Mom’s Queen Sized Bed

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1969 was a year of free love according to the newspapers. I was a late bloomer and did not get my first piece of pussy until I was 19 years old of that year.

Her name was Pat and she had had a crush on me since high school. I had avoided her like the plague, wanting to have nothing to do with her. Not that she was an ugly! She was kind of cute really! A bit heavy with a bit of a belly and thighs, but a nice ass, but I get ahead of myself.

I had my eye on a redhead named Gerry Smith. Unfortunately, Gerry had the same feelings towards me as I had for Pat.

The nail in the coffin came when a friend and fellow employee at the local family YMCA summer camp played a recording of him and Gerry on his couch making out. Her moans, as he performed oral sex on her, according to him, was like the sky falling on my world.

I was deeply depressed when I happened to leave the Y the same time Pat did. As we lived in the same direction we began a conversation as we walked together. I discovered that Pat was not all that bad a girl. When I invited her up to my apartment, my mom hours from returning home, she accepted and we spent a good hour listening to my records. We were getting along so well that we were soon stretched out on the sofa kissing, talking and laughing. We began poking and tickling each other and I was much more ticklish and she was.

“If you don’t stop it, I’m going to unsnapped your bra!” I threatened, running my hand up the back of her black cotton shirt.

She continued to tickle me and I unsnapped her bra, moving my hand to the front up under her shirt palming her left breast. I remember her eyes glazing over and we were off to the races. Kissing and fondling each other, she soon had my cock in her grasp. We were soon naked, and I maneuvered her to her back and got between her legs. A newbie at the game of sex, I was poking at her pussy until she got her hand on me again and placed the head of my cock, quite natural like, where it needed to be.

A newbie, but an educated newbie, I knew not to rush but to enjoy my first sexual intercourse with a girl. I began what I figured was a slow passionate rhythm, pushing deep occasionally. It was having the desired effect and she was participating with a bit of thrusting herself. We continued to kiss, seemingly, for me anyway, not to acknowledge the adult behavior we were engaged in, and hence have to stop. During this intercourse, it occurred to be that Pat had not exhibited any of the symptoms of being a virgin that I had read about.

Her orgasmic moan actually frightened of me a bit for a second or two. Then I remembered my magazine education and desired to help her do it again, so I continued fucking her with a moderate rhythm. She never wavered or gave any indication that she wanted to stop. To hold off my own orgasm, I concentrated on the warm feeling of being inside of her pussy, it gripping my length. Sometime later, the second orgasm gripped her. I stayed in my stance of cradling her upper body and began a very quick paced rhythm with intent to come myself.

“Yes! Yes! Do it! Come in me!” I remember hearing her chant as I lost myself.

I lost myself indeed as I pumped into her with abandonment, but not to the extent that I was not prepared to do the intelligent thing. A moment before my cock erupted I pulled out of her. A good amount of semen shot onto her abdomen, with a drop of two finishing up in her lavish, dark brown bush.

She pushed me off of her with more effort than I thought necessary. She went to the bathroom and was there for quite a while.

“Don’t you ever do that again!” Were her first words on returning to the living room. “What do you want to do with this?” She asked, referring to the wash rag in her hand.

“Do what again?” I asked, with puzzlement in my tone.

“Don’t you ever pull out of me again!” She exclaimed, throwing the wash rag at me.

We dressed in silence. I stole glances in her direction, knowing she was still pretty upset as her face was still beet red. Again, it struck me that she was not acting like a virgin.

“Are you going to walk me home?” She asked sternly.

“Of course!”

We were halfway into the mile, and halfway up a 100 yard long steep hill, before she spoke and appeared to have calmed down. We talked about summer camp, swimming and the upcoming school year at the community college. It was going to be my second year, her first.

Thus began what would be a six-month spree of fucking at every opportunity. It mostly occurred at my apartment because my mother worked and rode the bus to and from her place of employment, but it also occurred in the 11 acre woods of the YMCA, against a tree or fence not 25 yards from her front door and often outside her bedroom window on the tin roof of her house.

Pat’s mother seemed thrilled that her oldest daughter had gotten the boy she had been seeking for almost 2 years. Once or twice she had come out on the front porch and yanked a blanket off of avcılar elit escort us, with intent, I suppose, to catch us fondling each other. Not that wrong a notion, considering it was summertime and quite hot, and we were fondling each other through our clothes.

We got caught fucking by my mother who came home unexpectedly. Quite embarrassed, my mother went to the kitchen and stayed there until we were dressed and I hollered that I was walking Pat home.

“You are being careful not to get that girl pregnant, aren’t you?” Was all my mother said about the incident.

“Sure.” I replied.

It was far from the truth. Pat would not hear of using a rubber and every time I shot off into her I remembered her warning not to pull out of her.

During this period of my smaller head leading the bigger head, I could only admit that I gave little thought to pregnancy.

There were times of romantic splendor. My mother working away from home for a week at a time. Having the apartment alone, Pat and I, lying to her mother about going to a movie, lay together on my mother’s bed in the semidarkness of the bedroom, fucking tenderly like lovers without a care in the world.

Then there were the crazy times! The missed menstrual cycles, five that scared the hell out of us, me anyway. Us, fucking like minks in every position and on anything except the bed in my apartment.

Then, the month her period was late and never arrived. We, gathering the mothers together to tell them that Pat was pregnant. Ohh! The crying, the hysteria and the accusations of which mother was to blame for letting this happen.

As the two mothers were having coffee in the not so far away kitchen, Pat, sitting at the foot of my mother’s bed, was dragging me between her legs, begging me to fuck her right then and there. I resisted until she pulled the crotch of her panties aside, exposing her irresistible furred treasure. We finished with seconds to spare before the mothers returned to the living room.

We were soon married and Pat refused to go to her parents home, with me tow, to await the birth of our child. It was decided we would stay with my mom.

That turned out to be a total disaster.

Pat would neither cook nor clean. But we fucked nightly in my mother’s bed which she had graciously given to us, she, sleeping in my dilapidated cot of a bed, in the adjacent, much smaller, bedroom/dressing room.

My mother soon ordered her out, telling me, hopefully, I suppose, I could stay with her.

Pat was beside herself with the thought of going back home, with or without me. I reminded her that we would soon have enough money saved up to get our own apartment. She resisted passionately, finally telling me that it was her father who had taken her virginity. I began to vocally question who’s baby she was carrying. She swore it was mine and that she had told her mother about her father shortly after we got together and her mother had protected her. Why she had not told her mother before, she never attempted to answer.

We ended up, having no other choice, at her parent’s home. We were allocated the couch, her sister refusing to give up the room they had shared for so many years.

I discovered that her father ate his dinner before anyone else in the house ate theirs. A German custom I was told. I hated him even more. I was still having trouble accepting that the baby was mine, I consoled myself in the knowledge I was trying to do the right thing. My mother was driving me nuts with her demands and pleads that I come back home.

Pregnancy is uncomfortable, I had read, but I demanded that we fuck nightly, to squelch my unhappiness with the situation and in defiance of her father, who was upstairs sleeping peacefully with the knowledge that he had laid with his daughter, now my wife.

Nearing the end of the first month in the small confining home of the Heffners, I had Pat on her knees being as gentle as I could but still determined to get by piece of ass – pussy. Yes, I blamed her for our predicament. She could have gotten a job – worked herself out of her home life, rather than get pregnant. She was far from enjoying the intercourse.

I caught a movement coming down the stairs and quickly determined it was Pat’s mother. I wanted it desperately to be her father. Still, I continued to pump gently into the wonderfully warm pussy of my wife. Her mother walked within 8 feet of us, trying to ignore us, but found it difficult not to glance at me looking at her. Pat was aware of the intrusion but kept her head turned away from whoever it was. Inside, I was boiling! I slapped her on the ass lightly, pulling out of her, telling her to go to sleep. I was hoping, but not really caring, whether she went to sleep or not.

I moved the short distance through the kitchen door, My rigid cock still sticking out of my briefs. Pat’s mother was standing to my right at the sink filling a glass with water. She glanced towards avcılar escort me and instantly took note of my cock.

“Is the bastard sleeping good?” I inquired, with distaste in my tone.

“You don’t understand, Tony.” She said. “If I had known what he was doing, I would have put a stop to it sooner. Pat never said a word. Do you have to leave that thing out like that?”

“Your daughter went to sleep on me.” I offered. “I was thinking, since this is a very close knit family, you might be willing to take care of this?”

Now, Mrs Heffner had little appeal to me. She was a large woman, wearing a heavy sleeping dress that looked soiled. Her face was always rosy red like she had a skin rash and dark brown hair pulled back in a short ponytail. Dark brown eyes. What did appeal to me at the moment was she was here in front of me and she wasn’t going to go anywhere until I got my cock wet inside of her.

“You can’t be serious!” She retorted, lifting the class to her mouth.

“Touch it.” I directed, moving to her side. “You were probably going without while your husband was fucking your daughter?”

With hesitation, she reached to rub her fingers over my cock.

“Now, we can fuck and enjoy ourselves or you can resist and wake up the house. I don’t care!”

Pat’s mother stood looking at me for long seconds, glancing between my eyes and my cock which she had unconsciously gripped.

I didn’t wait for her decision. I moved on her and lifted her sleeping dress up with intention of pulling it over her head. She did not resist and I found her naked underneath. Had I not been riled up by sexual intent, my cock would have surely deflated seeing the large multi- flapped body before me.

“My Lord, I hope she is asleep!” She exclaimed in a low volume, as I dropped the garment to the floor and attacked the huge breasts before me.

Joan, Mrs. Heffner, lost her grip on my cock. She lifted her heavy breasts offering each nipple alternately as I moved from one to the other.

My hand reached between her legs and she adjusted her stance to give me access. I scrubbed her pussy with the palm of my hand for a long moment before I began to probe her pussy with my middle finger. I could feel, rather than see, due to the overhang of her large

belly, hair on her mound, but it was not thick. I began to ponder how I was going to get my cock inside of her in this small kitchen setting.

There was little choice so I quickly moved from her and spread her heavy sleeping dress on the floor between the table and the sink.

Joan may had been heavy but she was a strong, limber woman and with the help of the sink counter she lowered herself down onto the material, maneuvering to her back.

She lifted her legs and spread them as I dropped between them. On my knees, I took hold of my cock and placed it to her, pushing into her slowly. I pushed her thighs back, spreading them, as I began to pump into her with a moderate rhythm. I had intended to get my orgasm quickly, but the woman seemed to be really enjoying our intercourse, moaning and groaning at the appropriate times, though a whisper in volume.

I put my orgasm on hold and began to fuck my mother-in-law like I gave a damn. Still, we were in a house full of people, so, after long, long minutes, I put my thumb to her clit. Her belly flab started flapping as her ass made an attempt to be proactive. Her orgasm shook her violently and refused to release her. She had barely relaxed when I lowered myself over her and grabbed her ass with both hands. I began talking her with abandonment until my cock jerked, filling her belly with little concerned for the consequences.

I finished the month and the next fucking Joan whenever the opportunity presented itself, which was often and often in a bed. I now had a steady job at the YMCA and often came home for lunch.

Fucking my mother-in-law gave Pat a bit of relief. I got the impression she knew what we were up to as me and her mother spent a lot of time upstairs, me, supposedly helping with a chore. We felt safe upstairs as Pat found the narrow staircase very difficult to negotiate and used a small toilet near the back door in a boot room.

We finally moved into a small apartment in the neighborhood and stayed there until the baby was born. After the baby was born, Pat proved to be a horrible mother, often leaving the baby for hours with a soiled diaper. Pat’s mother discovered this, and other things, like using me for target practice with various objects in the apartment, and went ballistic, demanding that we split up, with her daughter returning home where the baby could be taken care of properly. My mother got involved in this and soon it was agreed that our marriage was a disaster and should end. My wife and I went our separate ways. I paid support until my wife left the state, supposedly with an air man, to parts unknown. I saw my daughter for the last time when she was six months old. avcılar eve gelen escort I would see her again when she was 40.

Returning to my mother’s apartment under a great deal of stress for both of us, mom, for reasons never known, gave me her queen sized bed. I knew my bed was nothing more than a cot, though it was much closer to all of her clothes and she could dress in there without retrieving her items and moving back to her bedroom. We settled in and things seemed to return to normal but I was not comfortable in my huge comfortable bed. One evening while watching TV I made a suggestion.

“Mom, you cannot be comfortable on that old cot of a bed. The room is dark and claustrophobic. I want to either go back to that bed or we can to sleep together in the big bed. There is plenty of room.”

“We can share, I suppose.” She agreed after long minutes of me thinking she was ignoring me. “But I need the outside. I get up earlier than you do.”

That evening with little ado mom prepared for bed and retired as I sat watching TV as we had done before all of the crazy stuff started. The headboard was now situated against a 4 foot bookcase that cut off half of the entrance of the open concept apartment. I did not have to raise my voice when I asked her wasn’t it much better being back in her bed. She replied positively. Sometime later, I entered the bed from the foot taking my place against the wall, wearing only my briefs.

The weeks passed and all was content, except for my brief skirmishes with my soon-to-be ex-wife.

All was intent except that I had nowhere to expand my pent up sexual energy. I rarely went to sleep without getting some pussy or jerking off. It should be noted I suppose that I was jerking off two or three times a day, plus, whatever pussy I could get into. I would rush home at lunchtime to ensure enough time to get off, only to jerk off back at work in the pool filtration room. Now, the only option I had was to jerk off in the bathroom before climbing into bed next to mom.

I was in turmoil! I had gone weeks without any pussy. My suggestions to Pat or her mother were brushed away as nonsense. Then, early in the a.m. the and unthinkable happened. I awoke to find myself humping my mother’s posterior. It scared the hell out of me and I actually jumped back to my side of the bed. Surely, I must have awakened her, but lying there quivering in the semidarkness, I soon relaxed as she remained motionless. Nothing was ever said of it.

Two things happened during the next week that changed my way of thinking about the woman I was sharing a bed with. Mom always kissed me before leaving for work. It was not difficult as I usually replaced her on her side of the bed – hey! it smelled womanly. I had heard giggling as she kissed me and said goodbye. When I heard the door close and felt the rigidness at my crotch, I looked down. I saw my erection standing tall and uncovered. My mother had obviously seen it, finding it humorous.

The next event was mom telling me to shut my eyes as she ran from the bathroom into her bedroom. Being the naughty boy that I am, I peeked, got caught and was admonished appropriately. She had been nude at the top and I got a good glimpse of quite nice breasts. She, having on only underpants, was a minor plus.

Like I said, I had an attitude adjustment concerning mom as a sexual object. Having been estranged for so many years before my kidnapping, our relationship was not your average mother and son relationship. She knew I was a pussy hound and I began to question her decision to share a bed. I also began to think there was no way she could have remained asleep with me humping her posterior like I had been doing earlier. So, one Friday evening when we both retired rather late together;

“Mom, are you cold? I’m freezing to death.” I asked, after being in bed a few minutes.

“No. Not at all. You’re not getting sick, are you?” She replied and asked like loving mother.

“I feel a little funny.” I lied. “Do you mind if I snuggle a little bit?”

“Not at all, honey.” She replied, giving me the answer I had hoped for.

I maneuvered over, snuggling close up behind her, purposefully placing my right knee against the bottom of her butt and between her thighs. I held my hands together and placed them innocently against her back. I kept my erection from touching her.

“Ummm. That’s better. You’re good and warm.” I said, faking a shiver.

“Good. Now, go to sleep.” She said lovingly.

Sleep, of course, was an impossibility for me. I lay there listing to her breathing and finally determined that she was asleep. I waited a few minutes longer.

I slipped my right hand down and began to fumble with my briefs, finally releasing my rock-hard erection. Unknown to me, my knee had put more pressure on her. I felt her stir and remained motionless until I felt sure she was in deep slumber once more. I began to toy and lightly stroke my cock with my forefinger’s. Soon, I was trying desperately to control my breathing and movement. Again, unknown to me, my movement was causing my knee to gently push repeatedly against her ass.

“Tony, what you’re a doing is very inappropriate.” I heard her whisper without any anger in her tone. “Why don’t you go to the bathroom and take care of that.”

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