The Gentlest Mother - Sex Stories

The Gentlest Mother

-- ALL CHARACTERS DEPICTED IN THIS STORY ARE 18+ YEARS OLD --

I knew I was a very lucky boy.

I could just gently hug my mother's head close as it rocked on my lap. I felt sad for my friends who had to jack off alone at night, instead of shooting their sperm safely into their mothers' warm mouths like I could do.

Mom always swallowed, because she knew it gave me the comfort I needed when my body was uncontrollably shivering and twitching in a huge orgasm, even though she hated the taste so much it always made her cough and gag afterwards.

I was eager every day to wait for the moment when we were alone for the while the act took; my mother's blowjobs weren't over in minutes. She always took her time, starting slowly and gently as only her own kid deserved. Blowjobs like that could not even be given except by a mother to her own son. I lasted through the days by cherishing the feelings and thoughts of my mother I knew so well; the softness of her full, crimson lips; the quivering and tightening of her throat when she took me deep; the way her cheeks bulged from the weight of semen when there had been a longer pause and the night's first load was bigger than usual.

It wasn't always at night, of course. Mom had even given me head in the kitchen the when no-one else was home. She just sank onto her knees on the cold white tiles in her apron and flowered dress, and looked up at me lovingly the whole time her lips slowly puckered and retracted around my shaft as she ...

... slowly worked. That had been the gentlest time of them all, I had felt really sorry for my mother after all the loving care she had given, when I had to listen the desperate choking and retching sounds she made as I came in her mouth. Each spurt shooting from my tightened balls made mom flinch and her head jump back violently, but her throat was pulsating steadily. I could only brush her silky hair and let her swallow all the precious warmth my sacks had to offer, softly whispering: "Mother, you must be an angel from Heaven..."

Sometimes I was stirred from my dreams by mom's soft lips, and in the dim darkness lit only by the shining light of the moon I would see a shape moving under my sheets. This was nor nightmare neither a dream, though, but my mother's head moving under there as she sat beside my bed. With a wet splatter and a gurgling gulp she soon caught the first mouthful for the night, and I knew I could soon fall safely asleep because my mother was watching over me...

***

Meeting girls was never a problem for me; they liked me because I never pushed them for sex. Mom would be waiting home with her mouth open whenever I came back from a date. Right now I had just came back from my fifth one with Kerry, and I was comfortably seated in the nice couch of our family's living room. Mom was on her knees in front of me. She was wearing a baggy wool sweater and her red hair was bound in a braid which would swish and bounce around when her head moved like it did now. ...