My Love Affair with My Mum Pt. 03 - Sex Stories

My Love Affair with My Mum Pt. 03

A few words from Jayne.

I told you before the first two parts of this story that I wasn't sure whether I would go any further. That was because I wasn't sure whether I could pull off writing as my son Peter. So, I asked for your opinions. The comments and scores for parts 1 and 2 suggest that it worked and that you'd like to read more about how our affair, if that's what it was developed. Here goes.

Love,

Jayne x

Obviously, what had happened at the pool kept crashing around my brain all that night and the next day. I could hardly get the sight of my mum in the skimpy bikini and the feel of my hand on her hip out of my mind. And as for the kiss, the sensation of her great tits against my bare chest and my rigid cock pressed into her stomach well, they were almost too much to take. It had only lasted a short while, five minutes, maybe ten, fifteen at the most including the touches in the pool. But what a fifteen fucking minutes? They went beyond almost anything I had realistically imagined could or would ever happen between us. Okay, when I was wanking about her, which I did so often recently, like sometimes three times a day, we did most things two people can do together. But those fantasy thoughts, as arousing and climax inducing as they were for me, were nothing like the real thing.

Without any doubt what had happened in and by the pool had been the real thing. As our mouths met and our bodies moulded together, I was sure she'd weakened and that she was about ...

... to let me fuck her. She was acting just like the other birds I'd pulled, hard to get at first but then easy in the end; get them worked up a bit and they can hardly wait to get their knickers off and your cock inside them. I saw then, that my mum was just like any other woman.

But I was wrong and fuck it she wasn't like the other slags I'd had. Something suddenly broke the spell and she pulled away from me. One second, I was holding her gorgeous, mature body in my arms and the next they were empty and she was turning away from me telling me it was all due to the wine we'd drunk at lunch. In the end, I'd got nowhere other than back in my room alone, my cock in my hand jerking off thinking of what might have been and realising that she was vastly different to my other conquests..

But surely, my sexually and relationship immature mind thought, what had happened between us as meant something. Wasn't her slightly bloated mumtum, as she, not I, called it, welcoming my erection against it a sign? Wasn't her pressing those gorgeously full tits against my chest, telling me something? And the kiss? Oh my God that fucking kiss as we sucked each other's lips and tongued each other's mouth, wasn't that a sign, a signal and an invitation?

In short, the answer was no for almost as soon as our bodies were pressed together, she pulled back and stopped me. She blamed the drink at lunch that had caused her to act as she he had. Or so she said. But I knew, as I'd read it somewhere, that ...