70s Summer with Mom

(Part 1 from 1)

100% fiction!

In the early seventies, I was taking some time off from
high school. I was a member of the counterculture, 22, and
was living near my divorced mom’s house in the San
Fernando Valley. I was then about six feet tall, and
weighed about 190. A friend had taken off to the East
Coast, and had left me with some exceptionally powerful
marijuana. My girlfriend too had left me, and I was
feeling down, so I would go over to my moms quite a
lot.

My mom was still at 42 very attractive. She was about
5’5" dark haired, and thin with big boobs. She probably
weighed about 120. She had tried to get things going
with a couple of boyfriends, but things hadn’t panned
out. My dad had moved away. She and I would sit out on
the patio in front of her pool, and complain about how
shitty things had turned since the Vietnam war started
and so on.

She’d have a couple of drinks. I’d smoke a joint. Over
those few months, I discovered how lonely she was.
She’d been a successful young editor at a magazine, and
quit it all to marry my father, an engineer. Our
conversations covered everything politics, drugs, even
sex.

"You know, I never could come with your father," she
said. "I always had to masturbate." I was pretty non-
committal during these ramblings she got into. I found
myself simultaneously embarrassed, and very, very
turned on.

At home, I’d fantasize about how great it’d be to fuck
her. I’d gotten lots of experience with the two or
three long-term hippy girlfriends I’d had. We’d done
everything, and for long periods too. The fact that
there was such great grass around only helped. Everyone
of my age group was generally great in bed—the grass
taught us to screw slowly and in depth. Nothing was
foreign to us, sixty-nining, you name it.

I had the impression that my mother was sexually kind
of naïve, and I knew that I could give her a great time
in bed if only I had a chance. One day, as we settled
into our deck chairs at the back of the house, I had a
wild idea. "How about you try some of this?" I said.

"I don’t know—it’s still a drug to me," she said. She
never complained about my smoking it, a sign of her
liberalism, but she had never asked for any.

"Nonsense," I said. This stuff is extremely mild.
Nothing, in fact, could have been further from the
truth.

"Come on, I’ll show you," I said. My mom always wanted
to be perceived as liberal, so she went ahead and
toked. It took a few minutes to get her to hold it in
her lungs, but after a while, she was able to. We both
fell silent then. She and I were both dressed in
summer-wear. She had a T-shirt with a bra underneath,
and shorts with I presumed panties on under those. I
had a pair of swim trunks on only.

I moved my deck chair next to my mom’s. This was truly
psychotic grass, where you can’t think or speak, but
everything sensory seems to be underlined. I put my
hand on her shoulders and began to stroke her lightly
over the top of her back.

"Leaves fire trails..." she said slowly, referring no
doubt to the sensation. I continued this for a while,
then shifted to the tops of her arms. She seemed to
shift her weight toward me to give me greater access. I
was so stoned, that the last thing I could have done
was rush, but finally I shifted my weight to nuzzle her
neck (which she seemed to lean into, giving the
slightest hint of a moan.

With trepidation, I shifted my fingertips delicately to
my mother’s breasts. She shuddered, but did not move
away. My fingertips gently cupped these full and still
perky objects, occasionally trailing over her nipples.
I bent to kiss her, my tongue entering immediately. She
returned my kisses languidly, tongue playing against
mine. Still kissing, noting that her substantial
nipples had become rock hard, I lifted her top over her
head, interrupting the kiss only to get the t-shirt by.

I languidly reached for her bra fastener in front and
liberated her beautiful breasts. She softly moaned now.
I bent to her breasts and slowly licked each nipple in
endless circles, while my hands caressed her arms and
sides. Too stoned to be afraid she would stop me, I
knelt beside her deck chair, and lifted my mother’s
little butt up slightly and skinned down her pants and
panties as a unit. Here was my mother naked, on a hot
sunny day, and I was going to be fucking her in a few
minutes.


But first, hippie sex! Something I was sure she had no
experience with. Her eyes were shut, but she seemed
totally relaxed. I stood and removed all my clothes
slowly, then knelt in front of her chair. My hands
found her feet, and slowly gave her a deep foot massage
that went on for a minute or two, then they began to
work their way slowly up her legs.

She said, through slack lips, "Feels sooo good..." I
marveled at the beauty of her still-tight belly, only
slightly pooched from delivering us kids, and enjoyed
the hairy puffed out cunt I hadn’t seen since before
puberty when we all ran around naked in the house. My
mouth found her cunt, and she started slightly, but
settled right away.

I got her legs a fair distance apart, and began to
slowly lick her clitoris, which turned out to be quite
large and erect, in a slow circle. She started actually
gasping, and slowly raised a hand to cup behind my
head, to prevent it moving away, as though I had any
intention of moving it. This went on for minutes, my
slow licking of my mother’s clit never varying.

By this time my cock had swollen to enormous
proportions. I know that many believe that we have a
given cock size, but I am sure that the degree of
excitement has something to do with size. My normally
seven inch cock was at least an inch longer, and half
an inch wider than normal. A large bubble of pre-come
had collected at the tip. I continued to lick and lick.

By now her hand was lightly grabbing my hair. In
addition, my mother was lubricating obscenely, and
wetness was actually coming out onto my tongue when I
occasionally scooped it down to enter her vagina. The
salty taste was wonderful and sweet.

After minutes, I rose to my feet, and helped her sit
up, her eyes still closed. Tilting her head to one
side, and lowering myself slightly, I brought the tip
of my monstrously swollen penis to her lips. I was
curious to see what she would do with it.

Surprisingly, she began to lick the head in a circle,
and after a while began to dip down with increasingly
deep strokes to the base. She continued to moan during
this, and squatting slightly, I managed to get my
finger to her still wet clit to continue the circular
action.

I never would have believed that my Mom could give such
a wonderful slow blow-job, including pretty much a deep
throat. On the grass, it felt unbelievably good, and
shimmering waves of pleasure coursed through my whole
body. It was fortunate that I had trouble coming from
this technique, because I would have blown a gallon of
come into her throat. The fact that my mother was
sucking my cock added to the incredible feeling of
eroticism.

After eight or ten minutes of this, I pulled myself
reluctantly from her mouth, and helped her to her feet.
I wasn’t going to fuck her in a deck chair. Her eyes
remained closed to slits as I led her slowly to the bed
in the guest room on the first floor. I positioned her
on it on her back, and slowly knelt between her legs.

I knelt erect for a few seconds so she could see how
huge my penis was, then I put my head between her legs
and ate her by lapping the flat of my tongue over her
inner lips and clit over and over for a minute or two.
I then entered her by putting the head of my cock to
her opening and gently pushing until I was completely
unsheathed. I then began to slowly, slowly fuck and
fuck my mother, each stroke retracting all the way to
the tip of my penis.

She was idiotically lubricated, but at the same time
quite tight, and her vagina had long since achieved
pre-orgasmic clampdown. Using the slow, slow approach
in the missionary position, I fucked her for about an
hour, while she gasped and moaned. Her legs alternately
splayed out to the sides, cupped my ass, or pointed to
the top of the opposite wall. At one point one foot
gently paced my rump, while the other pointed out to
the side.

The pleasure was absolutely incredible, but I was
careful not to come. Instead I wanted her to. The grass
was so good I thought she might have a problem in this
position. So after an hour I changed. I pulled out, and
dropped to eat her clit for a minute or two, making
sure that her cunt was as moist as possible. I needn’t
have worried, her lubrication had generously moistened
everything.

I then positioned myself on one side and hoisted her
legs over my pelvis in the T position. I entered my
mother gently and began to fuck her using the same long
strokes as before as her body laid over me. I used my
left hand to gently masturbate her clitoris in a
circle, and used the right to brush her breasts and
stomach.

It wasn’t long before I felt her cunt absolutely
chewing my cock in pre-orgasmic spasms. When my mother
came, she screamed and screamed, while I continued to
slow fuck and masturbate her. This went on for three or
four minutes, and I could feel her vagina grab,
release—grab release. Finally, at long last, she pushed
my hand away, the sensations being I guess a little too
strong following her come. I continued to slowly fuck
her.

"I want you to come in me," she whispered. I got back
to the missionary position (actually one of my
favorites). Now I fucked to my orgasm, a little more
rapid and using a few more short strokes, although
there were plenty of long deep ones too. It wasn’t long
before I had the most incredible orgasm of my life with
pulse after pulse of heavy semen shot into my mother’s
vagina.

We slept. The next morning, as she made me breakfast,
now primly clothed, she said, "I think we’ll chalk that
one up to the grass. I don’t want it to happen again."
Sadly, it hasn’t.

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