War Time - Sex Stories

War Time

... At times I thought mother had gone a trifle crazy because she would go for long walks often at nights and even in the pouring rain, and if I happened to be home she would insist that I go with her. One night during the bitterly cold time as mother and I were lighting our candles to go to bed she said, "I don't seem to be able to get warm in bed, how about you?" I agreed that it was nigh on impossible to get warm. She seemed to hesitate for a moment before she went on, "If...if we...we were to sl**p in the same bed we could add your bed covers to mine and we could keep each other warm. The boys' annuals that I read when I was a k** often told stories of brave arctic explorers huddling together for warmth, but they did not have women arctic explorers in those days, and the idea of sl**ping in the same bed with mother seemed a bit strange. Of course I remembered that I'd been in bed with mother before joining her when I first woke up, but that had stopped when I was about three or four years of age. To spend the night in bed with mother now I was eighteen seemed a different matter. Mother must have noticed my hesitation because she said, "There's nothing wrong with us sl**ping together darling, it's a big bed and it's only so we can get warm and have a decent night's sl**p, and at your age it's important, especially as you have get up so early to go to work." It all seemed very sensible and so I agreed. During the cold spell mother had taken to putting our night clothes in ...

... front of the fire so that they would be warm when we changed into them. Our habit was to take the warm clothes to our bedrooms and change there. On this night mother suggested that we change in front of the fire. Stripping off in front of mother was something I had not done since I was quite young, and I was incredibly shy about her seeing me naked. I assumed that she would feel the same way as me about her nakedness. I began by turning my back to her as I undressed, believing that it would be better that way than if she saw my front, and therefore my penis. There was one flaw in my thinking, and that flaw can be labeled, "curiosity." Here was an opportunity to see what a woman looked like, and so I tried to take a surreptitious peek at mother. At this point I had better give you some idea of what mother looked like. I'd often thought there was something rather doll-like about her, with an almost round head poised on a long delicate neck, a snub nose with a splatter of freckles, a small mouth with a full upper lip beautifully curved, and curly blonde hair. When I took my peek she was down to her petticoat that was flattened against her pointed nipples and her upturned breasts. She glanced at me with her remarkable, slanted violet eyes, catching me looking at her. I thought she would berate me for looking, but she only smiled. It was then it started; my penis began to harden. When looking at mother I had partially turned towards her. For a few moments I could see her eyes focused ...