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Mother strips naked in front of her son.
Continued from Chapter Three:
“You’d like to fuck me?” She stared at him while waiting for him to reply. When he stared at the carpet instead of looking at her, she continued in her motherly interrogation of him. “You’d like to fuck your mother? You want to have incestuous sex with me?” She laughed. “Is that it? Is that what a MILF is? I never knew what that acronym meant until now,” she said suddenly acting as if he had just complimented her instead of insulted her.
He looked at her looking at him. Other than staring down at the carpet, in the way she was looking at him, he knew there was nothing he could possibly say to hide his sexual attraction from her. Other than to cover the bulge in his pants with his hands, in the way she was looking at him, he’d only make his erection appear more obvious. Other than to turn around and face the other way, especially in the way she was looking at him, he knew there was nothing he could do to hide his growing erection that tented his pants from her.
So sexually obvious, too sexually obvious, with men getting hard, men were so sexually obvious. Totally opposite, women were more sexually, secretly discreet. With women getting wet and men getting hard, it was so much easier to read the horniness and/or sexual attraction of a man to a woman than it was to read the horniness and/or sexual attraction of a woman to a man. The biggest proof that he wanted to have sex with his mother was his growing erection that pushed against his pants. Feeling sick to his stomach that his mother now knows that not only is he sexually attracted to her but also that he wants to have sex with her and fuck her, he felt like the incestuous pervert that he is.
“Yes, I mean, no, Mom, it’s just an expression. I’m sorry. That came out all wrong,” he said.
Not letting him off the hook, she gave him a long look and an even longer pause before she continued speaking and before she continued her interrogation of him.
“Look at me,” she said.
Instead of looking at her, he stared at her bra clad breasts. Instead of looking at her, he stared at the hard impressions her big nipples made in her bra. Instead of looking at her, he stared at her panty clad ass and pussy. Instead of looking at his mother’s pretty face and her beautiful green eyes, he stared at his mother standing before him in her underwear.
“I am looking at you,” he said with a nervous laugh.
She laughed a melodious laugh that made him want to take her in his arms and kiss her. He loved her laugh. He loved the way she was looking at him now with love and understanding.
“Look at me, not at my bra and not at my panties,’ she said with a laugh. “Look me in my eyes,” she said. “Look up here and not down there,’ she said directing his stare to her beautiful green eyes instead of her big bra clad tits, her blonde trimmed, panty clad pussy, or her round, firm, panty clad ass.
* * * * *
He was ready to listen to her lecturing him as to how wrong it was for him to sexually and incestuously lust over her. He was ready to hear her tell him that she was his mother and he was her son. He was ready to hear her tell him that they couldn’t have sex, that they could never have sex, and that incest was wrong. He was ready to hear her tell him things that he already knew and didn’t need to hear again, especially from her and especially when he sexually wanted her so badly.
A big mistake when he blurted out his sexual feelings for his mother, he had made a fool of himself by calling his mother a MILF. He had made a fool of himself by allowing his mother to know that he wanted to fuck her. What the Hell was he thinking? Embarrassed, humiliated, and sexually frustrated, he felt bad enough as it for being so sexually attracted to his mother.
Only, not entirely his fault, he was a horny, sexually frustrated man and she was a sexy, sexual woman. With her so beautiful, so sexy, so sensual, and so sexual, he couldn’t help himself from being sexually attracted to her. He couldn’t help himself from lusting over her, wanting her, and wishing he could have sex with her. His own hardest critic and disciplinarian, he berated himself for being such a horny, incestuous pervert.
How dare he sexually desire his own mother? What’s wrong with him to want her sexually? He was embarrassed enough already lusting over his mother in the way that no son should ever have sexual thoughts for his mother. Embarrassed, humiliated, and ashamed, he wished he had never called his mother a MILF even though she definitely was. A mother he would love to fuck, if only he could fuck his mother, he would fuck his mother.
As if he was locked in a prison cell with his mother, he wished they hadn’t lost the house and he wasn’t confined to such a small space with her. Being with her in one small room for a prolonged period of time was not only sexually istanbul escort frustrating but incestuous torture. Wanting to feel her firm, shapely body in his arms, he wanted to hold her. Wanting to gaze in her big, beautiful, green eyes, he wanted to kiss her. Wishing she wasn’t his mother but his lover, he wanted to touch her, feel her, fondle her, and have sex with her.
Expecting she was going to lambast him to discourage him from having incestuous thoughts for her, he was surprised when she didn’t reprimand him. Expecting her to scold him and give him a ration of shit followed by a lecture, Michael turned to face his mother as Jennifer reached around herself, unhooked her bra, and removed it. As if he was sexually fantasizing it and as if she was someone else, a total shock, he couldn’t believe his eyes when mother was suddenly and shamelessly standing in front of him topless. He couldn’t believe his mother was topless. He couldn’t believe he was finally seeing his mother’s tits.
‘Oh my God! I don’t fucking believe this,’ he thought while staring at her naked breasts.
He couldn’t believe his eyes. As if his life had suddenly stopped before resuming in slow motion, he watched his mother remove one bra strap before removing the other. Then, while holding her bra cups in place with her hands, as if she was a sexy stripper onstage preparing to strip herself topless, she gave him a sexy smile and a naughty look before she exposed her naked breasts to him. Only, with his mother unlike any stripper he had seen before, a real seductive temptress, totally topless, she wasn’t wearing pasties over her areolas and nipples.
When she removed her bra, there were her pink areolas and her big, erect nipples. Her naked breasts were right there in front of him to see. Something he had sexually fantasized over and imagined seeing for years, he couldn’t believe he was seeing his mother’s tits. He was seeing his mother’s big tits. His mother’s breasts filled his horny eyes in the way of twin full moons. He will never forget this day for the rest of his life.
* * * * *
As if he was seeing someone else’s tits, the breasts of another woman other than his mother, he couldn’t believe his eyes. He stared at her breasts as if he had never seen tits before. He stared at her breasts as if he was a 12-year-old boy seeing his first set of boobs instead of a 22-year-old man having seen thousands of naked breasts. Something he had always wanted to see, something he had always imagined seeing and fantasized seeing, he was seeing his mother’s tits, her areolas, and her nipples.
He couldn’t believe he was seeing his mother’s breasts. Her naked breasts were right there in front of his horny eyes for him to ogle and for his horny hands to touch, feel, fondle, finger, and suck, if only he so dared. With the fun-bag playground open, he could feel his cock swelling, hardening, and pulsating with his sexual excitement.
Something he always did when seeing naked breasts, he compared her breasts to all of the other breasts he had seen in movies, in men’s magazines, and on the Internet. Jumping her higher up on the best, natural breast list, he compared his mother’s naked breasts to the naked breasts of other woman, celebrity women who had natural breasts. With dozens of images zooming through his head at lightning speed, the images of topless women fast forwarded through his head.
Filtering through his library of topless women, he omitted those women who had surgical enhanced breasts. Rather than enjoying a plastic surgeon’s idea of what a woman’s breasts should look like, he preferred what God gave some lucky women. Even though he liked their big tits and always stared at their cleavage and the tops of their exposed boobs, he removed Pamela Anderson, Christina Aguilera, Mariah Carey, Nicki Minaj, and Coco from his comparison list of topless women. Staying with Mother Nature’s naturally endowed gifts, his criteria was not apples and oranges but instead and in this case real cantaloupes as opposed to genetically enhanced melons.
He compared his mother’s naked, natural breasts to Jennifer Love Hewitt’s gorgeous, natural tits. He compared his mother’s naked, natural breasts to Selma Hyatt’s beautiful, natural breasts. He compared his mother’s naked, natural breasts to Scarlett Johansson huge, natural knockers. He compared his mother’s naked, natural breasts to Jessica Simpson’s perfect, natural jugs. Finally and lastly, he compared his mother’s naked, natural breasts to Katy Perry’s big, natural boobs.
‘Wow! Better than all of those breasts, my mother has fabulous tits. Her breasts are so shapely,’ he thought without voicing what he was thinking.
Indeed, she had better tits than the breasts of those women who seek out a plastic surgeon for breast implants. She had better breasts than the fake breasts of Pamela Anderson. She had better breasts than the fake breasts of Christina Aguilera. She had better breasts kadıköy escort than the fake breasts of Mariah Carey. She had better breasts than the fake breasts of Nicki Minaj. She had better breasts than the fake breasts of Coco. The real deal, better than all the rest, his mother had the best tits.
A definite breast man, and with natural breasts always scoring higher in his personal breast comparison, he gave as many points for a woman having big breasts as he did for women having shapely breasts. Too many large breasted women don’t have shapely breasts. Interestingly enough, making up for them having smaller breasts, many smaller breasted women have shapely breasts. An abnormality, not as common and rarer, his mother’s large and shapely breasts were perfect. He loved his mother’s breasts. With most women having saggy breast when they reached their forties, her breasts hardly sagged at all. She had the best breasts he had ever seen.
* * * * *
Not wanting to make the same mistake again, when he called his mother a MILF, he didn’t dare comment or compliment her on her great tits until she invited him to comment or compliment her perfect breasts. Who knows, maybe her removing her blouse, bra, and jeans was nothing sexual? Clueless, maybe her parading around him in her bra and panties was not incestuous. Maybe her standing before him topless wasn’t sexual. Maybe he was the one perversely perverted and incestuously twisted and not his mother. Maybe he needed to give her the motherly respect she deserved and not think that everything she did was incestuously sexual.
Just happy to see his mother’s naked breasts, maybe with her removing her bra and showing him her tits was something he’d be seeing on a daily basis now that they’re living in a small, motel room. Maybe after a while, he won’t even notice his mother’s naked breasts. Nah, he doubted that he’d ever tire of seeing his mother’s tits. Maybe he was the one who needed to screw his head on straight and stop looking at his mother and lusting over his mother as if she was his lover instead of his mother.
If only his Mom knew what he was thinking, with her so modest and moral, but for today with her standing before him topless, he’d be in deep shit. Yet, she was the one showing him her underwear clad body and now she was the one showing him her naked breasts. She was the one who was sexually teasing him and erotically enticing him by walking around him in her sexy underwear and now standing before him topless. Topless, his mother was topless. He couldn’t believe his mother was standing in front of him topless. Topless, his mother was topless. He couldn’t believe he was seeing his mother’s tits. He’d be masturbating over this sight for the rest of his life.
Obviously, it’s just breasts to his mother but it’s more than just tits to him. Only, he felt like such a pervert for staring and for lusting over her hot, topless body. Seemingly it didn’t sexually affect her to show him her tits in the way that it sexually affected him to see her tits. Seemingly it didn’t sexually excite her to show him her nearly naked body in the way that it sexually excited him to see her nearly naked body.
Obviously, in the way he was sexually and incestuously thinking about his mother and his mother’s topless body, she wasn’t sexually and incestuously thinking that way about him and his naked body. Obviously, with them living in one room instead of a big house, she was showing him her breasts and the rest of her nearly naked body so that she’d get the nudity out in the open and out of the way without all the shame, the awkwardness, the humiliation, and the embarrassment. Obviously, she did that more for him than for her. Obviously, he was the incestuous pervert and not her.
* * * * *
Then, not yet done with her striptease show, she continued shocking the shit out of him. Not stopping her striptease show there with removing her blouse, jeans, and bra, she looked up at him and gave him a sexy smile. As if she had just lost at playing strip poker, removing her last item of clothing, she put her thumbs on each side of her panties and slid her panties down and off. She kicked them off of her foot as if she was kicking a field goal.
‘Oh, my God. Are you kidding me? I don’t believe this,’ he thought to himself.
As if he was in the audience of a stage show with Madonna or Cher, he raised his hand and caught his mother’s worn, white, bikini panties in midair. Tempted to do so, he stopped himself from sniffing his mother’s underwear. Instead he held onto them as if he had just caught a prized homerun ball at Fenway Park. Maybe she’d autograph her panties for him.
‘To Michael, love Mom.’
She raised her arms and turned around to show her son her naked ass and what an ass it was. So round, so firm, and so shapely, he so wanted to feel her ass, squeeze her ass, and tap her ass. She did everything but bend over in front of him and wiggle her shapely, kağıthane escort naked ass while daring him to touch her and fuck her from behind. She did everything but danced and twerked in front of him.
She was naked. His mother was naked. He couldn’t believe he was seeing his mother’s tits, ass, and pussy. In all the years he imagined his mother in her panty and bra, topless, and naked, as if giving him his own personal, private, striptease show, he forgot all about losing the house. As if she was his prize, he thought more about winning his mother.
‘Oh, my God,’ he thought. ‘Oh, my God. I don’t believe this. My mother is naked. I can’t believe my mother is naked. This is so surreal. I’ll remember this night for the rest of my life.’
As if he had never seen a naked woman before, he stared at her trimmed, dark, brown pussy and her round, firm, naked ass before staring at her big tits and erect nipples again. Certainly she wasn’t just any woman. She was more than just any woman. She was his mother and his mother was naked. Naked, naked, naked, his mother was naked.
Just as he had never seen his mother in her bra and panties before, he had seen his mother in her bra and panty now. Just as he had never seen his mother topless before, he had seen his mother topless now. Just as he had never seen his mother naked before, he was seeing his mother naked now. Only, somehow, as if this sudden and unexpected, striptease show was a bonus, it was more sexually exciting, much more sexually exciting, because, not just any woman, it was his mother who removed all of her clothes. It was his mother who was naked.
Naked, naked, naked, she was naked. His mother was naked. He couldn’t believe his mother was naked. She had such an unbelievable body. His mother was hot. As if taking inventory, he looked at his mother while trying to memorize ever mole and every freckle on her beautiful body.
More of a chestnut brown, her pubic hair was a shade darker than the hair on her head and it was neatly trimmed. She had pink, erect nipples with big, pink areolas. Her stomach was flat and toned and her legs were long and shapely. A sight to behold, an incestuous sight to see, she was such a beautiful woman, especially now that she was naked. Most women look better when wearing clothes. She was one of the few women who looked better naked than with her clothes. Leaving something to be desired, most women look better in there bra and panty. She was one of the few women who looked better naked than she even did in her bra and panty.
If he was a painter, he’d want to paint his mother in the nude. If he was a sculptor, he’d want to sculpt a naked statue of his mother. If he was a poet, he’d write a love sonnet for his mother naked. If he was a songwriter, he’d write a song in honor of his mother naked and in honor of his mother showing him her naked body.
* * * * *
“Well?” She looked at him as if she wanted his opinion on a new dress she just bought instead of wanting his opinion on her naked body. Be honest. Tell me the truth,” she said. “What do you think? Do you still think I have a good body?”
He was dying to comment and compliment her on her magnificent, naked body. He looked at her in the way that any horny, sexually frustrated, and incestuously and sexually attracted son would look at his MILF of a mother if she was standing in front of him naked.
‘What does he think? Is she serious? He should pull out his erection to show her what he really thinks of her naked body. He should fill her hand with his cock to show her how big and how hard her striptease show of her beautiful, naked body has made him.’
As if she was a model standing on a mechanical lazy Susan, leisurely showing her naked body to him, she slowly turned around in front of him. She did everything but invite him to touch her and feel her. In asking for his honest opinion of what he thought of her naked body, she gave him permission to ogle her naked body and he used every second of that opportunity to stare, leer, and ogle his naked mother. For the sake of his solicited opinion, she gave him an excuse to stare at her tits, her ass, and her pussy. Giving him an up close and personal look, she gave him the opportunity to enjoy the naked sight of his mother longer.
Too busy staring at his naked mother, while imagining touching, feeling, and fondling her breasts and fingering her nipples, he was speechless. He had no words to describe her naked beauty. She wasn’t just any naked woman that he picked up in a bar, at the club, or ogled on the Internet. She wasn’t a naked slut, a naked whore, a naked hooker, a naked call girl, a naked escort, or a naked prostitute. She was his naked mother.
Normally not shy about giving his opinion, especially when asked, he couldn’t immediately formulate words enough to answer her question of whether he thought she had a good body. He was still in shock that she removed her bra and panty. He was still in shock that his mother was standing before him naked. Too busy staring at his naked mother while imagining feeling and squeezing her naked ass, rubbing her clit, and fingering her pussy, he was too lost in his sexual fantasy of sucking her big, shapely tits to respond. He was immersed in the sexual fantasy of having deep, penetrating sex with his mother.