Ian Stuart: Home-Made Loving

“Mom,” he had said, “are we going to stay here all summer?”

She had flushed and was not paying too much attention to him, her eyes on the slowly growing cock, flaring, skinning back at the knob, the big balls swinging gently between his white thighs. “Huh?

What did you say, Tim?” Then she continued before he could tell her, “Please get some clothes on, someone… might come in.” “Okay, Mom. But are we going to stay here all summer?” He walked into the kitchen, his big cock swinging and bobbing before him. She stood watching him, a fire beginning to burn between her legs again.

“Yes, son. All summer, until it is time to get you in school again. I think it will be best for both of us to work out our problems here, rather than in the city among so many people.” “Oh, boy!

Then, we can have sex together… like we did on the float? And,” he pleaded, his hand now grasping his cock and slowly skinning the foreskin back over the swelling, purple-pinkish head, “maybe some other kind of sex, too?” She sat down abruptly in a chair and he came and stood before her, his cock fully erect now, the knob reaching up to his belly button. Her hand drifted out and her fingers curled around the stem. Slowly she began to masturbate him. Then, her eyes vacant and longing, she bent forward, forming her mouth into a beautiful O, and placing it directly over the slit that was leaking clear, slick lubricant. She kissed it tenderly, and then raised up, and the fluid, clinging to her red lips, looped out from his cock to her mouth, in a long, shining string. She shuddered and then wiped her mouth. “Tim, we must talk about this,” she told him, “talk about it in depth. I will cab you for the talk when I am ready. Now.”

She rose briskly and slapped his cock playfully, making it quiver and swing. “You go get your shower and get ready for bed.” He grimaced and then left, slowly allowing his cock to soften and lose its hardness. Later, in bed, he turned on his light, and taking a box of sex pictures from his side-table drawer, he read and looked at the pictures until he was hard again and then slowly jacked-off, letting the cum spurt up high on his body and cover his hand as it slowed in its flowing from his prick. The following day she spent on the mainland in a small town close by, shopping for groceries and other needed items. It was not much consolation to her to have men ogle her as she walked by, her neat ass tic-tocing in her tight slacks. Looks didn't make one twitch and scream with the joy of climax. But she did appreciate that she could still draw their attention. She returned in the middle of the afternoon and found Tim building his raft again, the first efforts having come to disaster when he tried to launch it. He waved to her and turned back to his work. She put the purchases away and, in her swimsuit, went down to the lake and swam for a half-hour, wondering all the time why they did not swim in the nude, since there was no one around to see them. The thought was pleasing and she decided that from now on they would try it.

Supper was rather late, after the darkness was nearly complete.

Tim talked about a TV show he had seen that afternoon, and a fish in a nearby brook which he was sure he could catch. Seeing that he was calm, and that his mind was not on sex at this time, she decided that it would be a good evening to talk to him about their sexual problem.

He went to his room about ten o'clock to listen to his records, and she bathed and, putting on a nightgown and a heavy robe over it that could not be seen through, she went to his door, pecked on the frame and opened it. “Anyone home?” she called and smiled at him. His music was blasting out and he sensed her presence rather than seeing her. Turning, he saw her then, and turned the music down. He was dressed in only the pants of a shortie pajama suit. “I thought this would be a nice time for us to have our talk,” she said and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Sure, Mom. I wondered when we'd have it.” He turned his music very low, and coming over, sat down, leaning back against the headboard of the bed. He sprawled on the bed and she saw the bulge, then, of his huge cock, pressing against the front of his pajama pants, and could see the ridge of the knob through the thin material. In fact, the pulsing of the blood through the veins of the large, thick rod could be discerned. He was slowly getting an erection just with her being close to him. “Timmy, I should not have… used my hand on you the other day. This is not the kind of relationship that a parent should have toward a growing son.”

“But, Mom, you helped me out, so much. I have been jerked off by a girl once in awhile at school, or on a quickie date, sitting in a car, but you did it the best I ever experienced. It must have been nearly like having a good fuck.” He rubbed his hand down across his cock and he bulged out further. She trembled at the urge to reach over and take it in her hand. “Son, I know you were relieved. That is only natural. And I know you wanted me to do it for you, which is also natural. But it just is not right. It may… make our relationship more difficult in the future.” “Aw, Mom. I will always love you.”

He twisted around and, reaching down, unbuttoned the fly to his shortie pants and slowly took his huge, erecting cock out, allowing it to swing free. It was red with the pressure of the cloth and, as it bobbed up, the foreskin jerked back down across the cockhead, clearing the pinkish-purple knob. The slit immediately began to emit a dribble of clear, slick liquid. He closed his fist about it and looked at her, a yearning deep in his eyes. “Tim… put it away, please.” She shuddered with desire and felt a thick gush of fuck-juice race down her tubes and bathe her cunt. “I need it again, Mother! Please.

Just one more time. In fact,” his face colored, “I read about how it feels so good to have someone suck your prick until you come. Do you know how to do that?” She stared at him. The thought of loving him by mouth had occurred to her, but the actuality of it had not struck her. She licked her lips and looked at the throbbing, swollen cockhead, almost tasting it in her imagination. “You mean… perform fellatio on you?' “Is that what it's called? All I know is giving head or sucking off,” he told her, his hand reaching out to tease her breast again. Her nipple strutted and he palmed it gently, rolling it, making it spike in its excitement. “Yes, I know how to do it,” she answered him softly, her eyes watching his hand curl about his cock and stroke it absently, his hips hunching into his fist, at the feel of his stroke. “Would you do it to me?” “Tim…” She drew a long, shuddering breath, then nodded.

“All right, so you can have the experience of it. But we must not continue to do these things,” she added. “Mom,” he whispered.

“What?” She reached out and began to caress him, running her hand up and down the full length. “How long is your cock, Timmy?” she asked him. “Jenny Harris measured it one day last month and it was just exactly eight and a half inches long. That's pretty long, huh, Mom? Was Dad as big as me?” She nodded. “That is very large, son. Your father was smaller. Yours is longer and at least an inch thicker around. It is very large. There are some women who cannot take that big a one.” “Can you, Mom?” His eyes were eager, as she pumped him slowly. She nodded. “Yes. I can take it, if I wanted to. Your father was big-not as big as you, but large.” “Did you suck him sometimes?” he asked. She nodded, her eyes not meeting his. She wanted to suck this massive cock of her son. Why not? Who would ever know? “Will you… will you do it for me?” She did not answer, but ran her hand into his shorts and brought out his large balls and caressed them, feeling them move and slither in the hairy sac. Without speaking, she gently pushed him down onto the bed.