Mom's Friend & Mom

The first awakenings of my sex drive happened when I was about 18. My first memories of experimentation’s with sex were over my Chachi (Aunt) Kalpana. This woman was my uncle’s ex wife, a woman I always recognized as an undeniably beautiful woman, in a plastic sort of way. I never seemed to recognize that her body was probably never as good as I’d imagined, at least not until later years, but it was over her that I had my first fantasy. I remember the very first time I blew my load. Kalpana had actually been in our house that day. I was home from college, for whatever reason, perhaps a holiday, maybe sick, maybe a Saturday, but Kalpana was there. I’d noticed over the days before that my cock became hard, and it felt good to stroke it whenever it got stiff. 

The house was small, tiny in fact, but whenever my Ma’s friends, of whom Kalpana was one, came to visit, they would spend most of their time in the tiny kitchen, talking and laughing and doing whatever stuff it was that adults did to keep themselves amused, so it seemed to me. It was easy for me to tell when the women in the house were moving about. It also happened that women were there quite frequently, as my Ma was a seamstress who did quite a lot of work for friends. So it was this day that Kalpana was over, and I’d found that rubbing my penis felt quite good. In fact, while sitting in the very room next to where my Kalpana Chachi and my Ma were talking, I felt the urge to caress myself. I slowly unbuttoned my pants, not at the Meant recognizing how dangerous that might be, and unveiled my erection, which had happened at the thought of Kalpana. I started to stroke myself, first slowly, then with more and more urgency, until within only a minute or so, I felt a release, and a tiny bubble of whiteness spewed from the tip of my dick. God, this felt wonderful! The sensation was the first of my life. 

And it had come over my Chachi! I had copies of Playboy under my bed. Now that I knew what the sensation was like, I knew what my cock was really for. I’d of course looked at the pictures before, but they took on new meaning then. It was even later that day, or perhaps night, that I slid the ‘dirty’ magazines out from under my bed, and looked at the centerfolds with new eyes. I was on my bed, on my stomach, looking at the gorgeous breasts, the mysterious hair that had always fascinated me (and still does) which looks like a triangle between these women’s legs. And I felt my cock stiffen again. It felt good to feel the pressure of my thickening dick against the mattress. I wondered what it would feel like to expose my throbbing cock to the light fur bedspread under me. 

I thought of my Kalpana Chachi, the strawberry blond hair that looked so wonderful, the triangle that I wished I could see that was probably the same color, and unzipped my pants, and pulled them down, allowing the shaft of my cock to meet the fur of the covers. Again, I started moving my hips, and thrusting and dreaming of my sweet Chachi, and started pumping more and faster and faster until I felt a sweet release, and a big load of white came out of my dick, and I was pleased…

I was happy with this, and found that the feelings I had were more wonderful when I thought of my Kalpana Chachi as I rubbed my dick against the covers, for days on end. In fact, I’d discovered an even better way to satisfy myself. Putting my stiff cock between a fur covered pillow and the bedspread, and sliding my aching cock in and out between them, until the release came. God, it felt unbelievable! Well, as I said, my Ma was a seamstress.

And she had many friends who needed work to be done. And in these days, the women who came to have their wares made became to regard me as just another piece of the furniture, so to speak. I think they often forgot in fact that I was a boy. So I got to see things that were more than I ought to have seen and still keep sexual thoughts away from my ever-horny mind. My favorite of my Ma’s friends was a woman of about her middle 40s, which described both her age and the size of her chest. Her name was Kamala, and she was impressive in my young mind. She was short, jet black hair, a tight, perhaps even flatfish bottom, but tits that were huge and so noticeable that I’m sure I had been aware of them even before my sexual interest. I’d had the pleasure of seeing her run around in a state that no red blooded boy should have to see and not be able to relieve himself, which, after my discovery, I was doing regularly. 

But there was one day that would live in my mind. Kamala was over, and getting some new top made. It was her custom, being something of a brazen and lowers middle class woman that she’d just take off her outerwear and be not the slightest bit conscious of her…appearance. I was sitting there, on the floor, looking up, and almost gasped as I noticed something I’d never seen before on this goddess- like woman in all the times I’d seen her in various states of undress. I looked up and saw a sheer bra that encased those lovely breasts ever so gently, and saw to my amazement that the sheerness exposed her aureoles, dark and half dollar sized, absolutely perfect to match the size and shape of those gorgeous melons. 

I couldn’t stand it, and slipped off to my bedroom, where I immediately pulled off my pants, listening intently for any telltale footsteps signaling trouble, and proceeded to take my cock, now stiff and trembling from the sight of those massive orbs that I now wanted to suck more than anything in my life, and started to stroke myself harder and harder until the come splattered from my dick in an explosion of ecstasy. Oh God, oh God, Kamala, how I’d love to feel my love pole inside your sweet pussy… I’d never forgotten the mystery of the dark triangle, either. It had not escaped my notice that the utter blackness of Kamala’s hair had extended itself to the hair between her legs. 

Every chance I got, which were not nearly as many as I would have liked, I stole glances at her pubic area when she was in panties, the large, womanly kind, not the bikinis I’d experience in later life. I’d look for those stray wisps of blackness coming out from under those white sheer panties, and become excited. I’d found my new fantasy. Every day, I’d dream of undressing Kamala, looking at that incredible body, touching it, feeling it, licking it kissing it, and fucking it. And every chance I got, whenever I was home and she was over at the house, I’d close my bedroom door, and listen through the reverberating of the house for the voices of Kamala and my Ma, and pull down my pants and stroke my cock while I listened to the voice I wished I would hear in my ear, urging me to fuck her harder… I was always careful to listen as closely as I could to the sounds of the footsteps, which came and went often, as the full length mirror with which the women always looked at themselves as they tried on the new clothes was inside the closet door which was right outside my room. So, nervously, I always listened, worried that one day there would be a knock on my door and that I’d embarrass myself. One day, it happened. Kamala was over and she was trying on a new hot pants outfit, which I knew from experience made her look incredibly fuckable. 

I heard them in the kitchen, Kamala and my Ma, then heard very little. A Maent later, there was knock on my door. I had, of course, my stiff cock out of my pants, this time, as circumstances would have it, beating away without the pillow using the friction of my hand, pulling at the skin, and as I tried in vain to stuff it back in, the door knob twisted, and the door opened. There, in the door way, was Kamala, black hot pants on and her sheer bra. God, what now? I stopped, looked up in embarrassment. Kamala looked down at my shrinking cock, just stood there looking for a Maent, no expression on her face, perhaps the trace of a smile on her lips. As I turned to try to hide my penis, she said, “I was just coming in to ask you what you thought of this new outfit.” To which I replied in a mumbled voice something about it looking good. 

What was I going to do? My Ma was going to find out now, and how would I stand the humiliation? I buttoned my pants, and sat down, numbed. Figuring the worst, I was waiting for another inevitable knock on the door expecting to have to explain himself. Maents later, I heard voices in the kitchen, too embarrassed to even try to listen. The voices seemed to go on for a very long time, and I couldn’t imagine what the two women could possibly be discussing for so long a time. I was beating it, and that was all. Presently, I heard the back door open, and someone go out, a car start, and pull out of the drive. Now I’d had it, I was thinking, Kamala’s gone, and my Ma is going to let me have it.

There was that knock on the door. God, I thought. “Yeah, come on in,” I said in resignation. The door opened, and I was in shock. There stood Kamala, still in her black hot pants, but that was all. Those gorgeous tits, that I’d dreamed of for months now, were unholstered from their sheer bra, hanging free, the nipples dark against her pale skin, the beginnings of erectness at the tip. I was speechless. Despite my shock, the desire for this woman took over my surprise. She stood there in the doorway like the sultry bitches I’d see in later life, pornographic movies. Her voice, a bit gravelly as always, said “Well, what do you think?” I didn’t know what to say. “You’re Ma and I talked over what I found you doing. It’s not a secret to her, you know. She hears your bed creaking as you play with yourself. I told her what a beautiful cock you have, and we talked about it, and I convinced her that it was about time you had the chance to use it. I’ve see you looking at me when I’m undressed. I know you want to fuck me. 

Your Ma told me your dad is out of town, and she said she’d go out for a few hours and leave us alone. Now, do you want to let me see that sweet penis, darling?” Almost literally, my jaw dropped. I saw this vision slowly moving toward me, those luscious mammaries bouncing together as she moved to me. “Pull you pants off,” she said, almost demanding. I did what she told me, now showing her my naked cock, now standing stiffly again. She came over to me, and knelt down. She took the shaft of my dick, actually now harder than it had ever been before, and started to stroke it. I lasted all of about a minute before spewing into her face and hair, as she’d kept herself that close.

She loved it. Being as young as I was, my dick stayed hard. She obviously wanted more. With some of my come still on her face, she leaned closed, and started to lick the head of my still swollen dick. Her tongue went all over, then up and down the shaft, until I came again, in her mouth. I wanted her badly. She stood up, and gently pushed me into a seated position on my bed. She moved her big pretty tits into my face, and urged me to suck those huge dark nipples which were harder than I would have imagined. Then, she slipped off the hot pants, along with the panties I’d wanted to see her out of, and let me stare into that thick black bush that I’d dreamed of for months. She told me she wanted me to lick her. I didn’t know exactly what she meant. But she showed me. 

She lay back on my bed, and spread her legs. It was glorious, looking a that cunt, which was glistening with wetness. “Be careful, and put your finger in me.” I did. “Go in and out.” And I did, faster, as she started breathing harder. “Oh God, take out your finger and lick where you were fingering,” she panted, and I did, tasting my first musk, which I then didn’t want to stop. She bucked and swayed, and then, right when I couldn’t stand it any more, she said “Get on me and fuck me, you little fucker.” And I fucked her wildly, while she lay back and moaned and came. I fucked her about 4 times in the little bit of time we had that day. After the experience I’d had, I was sexually in love with Kamala. I was sure I’d always want to fuck her. I’d finally gotten to see every inch of that delightful wench that I’d always dreamed of. 

She was far from perfect, of course. I saw the bulge of fat around her belly, which I in fact found sexy. Those tits I’d seen as perfect were heavier and had some stretch marks, her legs had cellulite, but none of that mattered. I’d eaten, sucked, fucked her, did everything a man can do to a woman. I wondered how I’d be able to face my Ma, though, even though it sounded certain that she’d given her ‘blessing’. The phone rang, and I picked it up. My Ma, oh God. But she was short with me, wanted to talk to Kamala. I handed her the phone, heard some words, and she hung up. 

“Your Ma will be home in 10 minutes. She’s tired, wanted to know how things went. I’m going to get dressed and meet her outside.”

“Can’t you stay and be with me when she comes home?,” I asked, not wanting to face that alone. “No, it will be okay. We’ll be doing a lot more of this. I need to talk to your Ma about that, alone.” Great. She dressed, stood there in front of me, made exaggerated movements designed to show me more of her tits and that delicious cunt, let my run my hands through her pussy hair before she put her panties on. I didn’t want her to leave. But I heard my Ma’s car pull in, and she was gone. I stayed in my room, not wanting to face Ma. Later on that evening, I had to venture out. I didn’t know what my first encounter with Ma would be like; I was very nervous. But it wasn’t any problem. She was sitting on the sofa, and when I walked out, all she said was “I was wondering when you were going to come out of there.”

And she smiled a bit. I knew my Ma had known about my masturbation. At least once, she’d knocked on my door when I was shaking my bed, and I’d heard an admonition beyond the door to stop doing that. She knew, all right. But it wasn’t like I lived in a particularly prudish family. Nudity wasn’t unheard of in my house. I’d walked in on my Ma in the bathroom many times, and she’d not made any particularly big deal about my looking at her breasts or the rest of her body, although she would not be obvious, and covered herself relatively shyly. But I was naturally curious about the female body, and she wasn’t about to let her hang-ups get in the way of normal healthy development. I’d heard things in the past years about my Ma, offhand comments by my father, words that as I grew older led him to the conclusion that my Ma was not a very sexual being, didn’t like sex much, wasn’t much interested. But I’d seen enough, of my Ma’s body, often enough, to know that she was built rather nicely for sex. She was in decent shape, mid 40s, like Kamala, big breasts, though not nearly as big as hers, brown hair that darkened in the pubic patch. I’d always wanted to stare more between her legs, but I could never do it, as I could never have been that obvious. 

Yes, she was okay, as a woman, though I’d never thought of her in that way. But my experiences with Kamala kept going. Kamala would come over when my Ma knew my father would be away, and there were times when Kamala would come to get me to take me back to her house where we would fuck and suck until I couldn’t get it up any more. She was the world’s best fuck, I thought, and I loved her, or at least my cock did. So it was even more amazing when something new and different happened in my life. One night, when I was reading in my room, I’d heard my Ma running her nightly bath water. Quite ordinary. I heard her slip into the tub, heard the splashing of the water, thinking nothing of it, maybe thinking of my sweet Kamala. Again, my father was away, and I felt I should have done something about getting Kamala over, but I knew she was working this night. Maybe I’d get to fuck her later on in the week, I thought. And again, I heard the slip and slide of my Ma getting out of the tub, heard the sounds of her preparing herself after her bath, and kept on reading. A few minutes later, there was a knock on my door. “Can I come in?”

“Sure,” I said. My Ma was wearing the usual bathrobe, the one she always wore in the evenings after her bath, the one she wore as she sat on the couch and watched TV. I wasn’t worried about some embarrassing talk about Kamala coming from her anymore. I felt that the three of us had come to a common understanding. So I was a bit surprised when she sat down on my bed across from me, and started asking questions. “I know we haven’t spoken about this before, but I was wondering how things with Kamala are?” I wasn’t sure what she meant, and I was getting very nervous all of a sudden. God, what if she’s decided it’s wrong and I can’t fuck her anymore?, I thought. “Well, what exactly do you mean, Ma? I mean, she’s great. You know what we’re doing, right? I mean you guys talked about it the first night she was here, and I thought everything was cool, and…”

“You must really think she’s something, though, to want to be with her all the time. I would have thought a girl your own age would interest you more, wouldn’t have thought a 43 year old woman would get you that hot…”

“Ma, it’s kind of embarrassing to hear you say a woman gets me hot, ya know…”

“It’s true, isn’t it? I mean, if she didn’t, why would you want to spend so much time with her? She’s told me everything, you know. It’s not like we don’t talk…” I was beginning to feel something. I heard some subtle, maybe not so subtle things in my ears that were going right to my dick, and I was wondering how I could be having these twinges in my crank with my own Ma in the room. “Well, what is it that you talk about?”

“Kamala likes to get into it. You know that she’s like a truck driver sometimes with her mouth. Maybe you like that, too. But she says how much you like to…suck her boobs…”

“Aww Ma, I don’t want to hear you talk like that…”

“No, no no, it’s okay. In fact, it’s more than okay. I want…I need…” She stumbled over her words “Something from you. When you come in the bathroom with me when I’ve been undressed…” I protested, “No, I’ve never…”

“Let me finish. I know you look at me…”

“No, ma, I haven’t…” Her tone became just a bit more firm. “Now listen… It’s okay, really.” Then she dropped her tone to soothing. “In fact, I like it. Now if you’ll let me finish, I want to tell you what I want… I know you think Kamala’s boobs are beautiful, she tells me you tell her that all the time.” Ma looked up, and gazed intently into my eyes. “But I think mine are just as nice. What do you think…?” Ma slowly stood up, sliding off the edge of the bed. She still had on her old robe, but after she came to her full 5’4″ height in front of me, about 3 feet away, she opened the robe, and let it slowly fall to the floor as she pulled it back off her shoulders, revealing those tits I’d seen only in passing. She still wore the same kind of white panties that Kamala wore, and that I knew she, my Ma, always wore, but I was too utterly blown away to even notice them. I sucked in my breath. I couldn’t say anything. “Well, what do you think? Are they as pretty as Kamala’s? I know they aren’t quite as big, but they’re probably firmer…” she said in a low voice, as seductive as I’d ever heard her. I looked up, and saw those suckable nipples, almost as big as Kamala’s, on the end of a pair of tits, not like those I would see in Playboy or Penthouse or Hustler, but ones I would call in later life ‘real tits’, full and not perfect for a magazine but perfect for fondling and kissing and licking and sucking… “But…I don’t understand…” I gulped, “what do you want…? What about Dad?” 

I stared long and hard at those nipples, and my cock began to grow in spite of myself. “Well,” she said, “Kamala and I talk, like I told you. She tells me that you absolutely love to suck her nipples. I…I’m not sure how to tell you this, but I absolutely love to have my nipples sucked. Your father,” she seemed to be unhappy with the word, “doesn’t like to do anything like that… And Kamala tells me how wonderful it feels…” As she spoke, she started to almost unconsciously place her hands under each breast and ever so slowly and gently lift them, ever so slightly, as if to offer them to my mouth, and I was by then beginning to shake with nerves and desire. “I know that want to be with Kamala every day if you could,” she said, “and you can’t be. I know you play with yourself all the time, that you want sex all the time, and I’d love to give you the chance to experience at least some of what you get with Kamala whenever you want it. I’d like to let you suck my nipples whenever you want to, and you can play with yourself when you do, and I won’t care… You don’t have to pretend to hide that from me anymore…”
I couldn’t stand it. I reached out my arms slowly, and my Ma came to me. I was in my chair, and I parted my knees so that she could come close enough for me to gently take her left nipple in my mouth. “Oh God…” I wanted to say, and my Ma said it for me… I kissed it gently, then my tongue lightly touched the very tip, and from there, I started to swirl my tongue ever so gently around more and more of the nipple and felt it grow against my tongue. In the back of my mind, I could not believe I was licking my own Ma’s tit, but it was good, better than good, better than fantastic. I started to go from licking to sucking, first very tenderly, then with increasing passion, until I was breathing heavily. Then I took my mouth away, and, being utterly carried away and not thinking what I was doing, said to her “Ma, I want you to sit down, let me get on my knees, and suck you”. 

She backed away, and I reached up my hands and took hers as I stood up with the biggest pole under my shorts I’d ever had in my life. She didn’t look at my cock under my pants, but just looked in my eyes, as she turned 180°, and I helped her sink into the chair. I instantly was on my knees, and sucking as if for my life. She took her hands and ran them through is hair, her neck arched a bit, not overly so, but in obvious pleasure. “Suck me, suck me, baby”. I sucked and sucked, and finally had to take my cock out, which I was starting to beat in a heavy rhythm, until I came with a sigh… Only then did I lean back on my haunches and take in the sight of my glorious Ma, leaned back a bit in my chair, nipples erect and hard and at attention, her face flushed, her breasts full. I’d noticed before, but really noticed now, the fullness of my Ma’s belly, never the flat board of the hard bodies, but it was beautiful. I knew I wanted to experience that navel which was below the panty line, the spot marked by a flat spot stretched taut… But I felt I already had gone as far as she would let me. 

“Ma, how was that?” I breathed. “Wonderful,” she sighed, “but I need a lot more sucking than that…,” and I went back to work and licked and sucked until my Ma’s back arched with pleasure and she cried and “hmmmm”ed after what may have been her coming… I never thought Kamala would be outdone, but just my Ma’s breasts were enough to convince me that she would be the best sex of my life, ever… I stopped suckling, and just laid there, my head lightly against one of her breasts. She held me against her. “You can have me like this every day,” she said. “Every day, after college, whenever your father isn’t home, anytime… I love you.” I wasn’t sure how I was going to sleep knowing my beautiful fucking Ma was in the room next to mine… Well, she was truly beautiful, my cock felt that for sure. 

Every day when I came home from college, I’d come in the door, look my Ma in the eye, take her hand, and lead her to my bedroom. We got to the point where it was almost as exciting for me to unbutton her blouse, turn her around, unhook her bra, and start fondling her tits, as it was to suck them. The anticipation was tremendous, every fucking day. I’d walk into the house with a huge hard on, and eventually, I’d even drop my pants so I was naked from the waist down while I stripped my Ma to her waist. There were days before I’d undress her that I’d come up from behind her, kiss her neck, tongue her ear, and feel her boobs through her top, and started the slightest pushing with my hips into her ass. She was always a little defensive then, wanted only her tits to receive attention. Bu that attention she loved more than anything, I think she was in love with my mouth. And I had the freedom that I never had before. I used to have to listen, hardly breathing, whenever I stroked himself or beat off between the pillows, afraid I’d get caught, but now, not only did I not have to be furtive and hide, I could do whatever I wanted to pleasure myself with my door wide open. 

Even better, there were days when I had to relieve himself even after sucking my Ma’s gorgeous lobes, and I would go out to her, tell I was going to play with myself, and she would most often come in my room to watch. I hoped for more, of course, even though I continued to fuck my ‘girlfriend’ Kamala. One day, after many weeks of suckling, and having always done nothing with my cock but stroke it myself, I thought I’d try something different. I knew my Ma enjoyed looking at my cock, but she’d never said anything about ever touching it herself. Well, I wanted her to do something for me. After a particularly intense sucking session, and having avoided touching himself, I stood up with my raging hard on and placed myself as close to my Ma as I could, she still slumped down in the chair in my room. Ma stared at my boner lovingly. I just stood there, come oozing out the tip of my throbbing penis, and started talking. “Ma, I know you haven’t said we’d ever do more than what we have been doing, but I’d give anything to at least rub my dick on your tits…” She knew what I wanted. “Let’s do something even better.” She stood up, and laid down on my bed, her tits swaying as she walked. “Come over here to the bed. Get on top of me and I’ll let you rub your cock between my tits…” Yes, even her language had gotten more intimate. It took me all of 5 seconds to be on top of my Ma, thrusting my stiff dick on my dear Ma’s chest as she grabbed her full, pretty melons and pushed them together so tightly that I thought it felt a lot like being inside Kamala’s sweet tight cunt. 

Faster and faster I pumped, until I came, gushing, “Ughhhhhh…” The splatter, not a very great deal as I’d been pumping my meat many times each day, was still enough to make a pool of liquid love on the spot just above where her cleavage would have been if she were sitting up. I lifted myself off of her, and set one cheek of my butt right near her hip, close, and started to lovingly massage my jism into her skin. “Now that was great,” I murmured, and started to take a drop of my come on the tip of my finger and work it into one of her nipples. She continued to lay there, her eyes open, probably not sure where this was going. I continued to love the attention my Ma allowed me to give her. There was no bound to our intimacy any longer. I would wander into the bathroom whenever she was bathing, sometimes to kneel over the edge of the tub and massage her tits, and sometimes to let my eyes drift to that dark hair on her mons that still fascinated me and couldn’t keep off my mind. Not only her pubic hair, but that slightly protuberant belly stimulated my imagination. Her navel, slightly closed from a bit of underlying padding, looked like a perfect place to put the tip of my cock, and rub until I came… 

What would that belly, rubbing against mine, during passionate fucking, feel like? She let me look. It wasn’t entirely me giving her pleasure, either. Several weeks into this relationship, she began to stroke my aching dick for me, as well. No longer, unless I chose to do so, did I have to relieve the aching pleasure in my nuts by pulling at my own cock. My Ma started doing that for me. One day, after our regular tit suck session, and after coming while stroking myself, I just backed up, and stood up. My cock was still hard, of course. I was bold then. “Ma, Kamala likes to play with it. I’d love to have you play with it, too”. She looked up at me, and then down at my raging hard on, then after minute of just looking, reached out and brushed the underside of my shaft with the tips of one hand, starting to slide up and down, then faster, giving her all, her hand fully in contact, until I shot off. “God, Ma, that was incredible,” I shuddered.

I’d finally experienced my Ma’s touch. Presently, my thoughts centered on intercourse. I thought about it all the time. God, what an experience it would be to fuck my Ma! A few short months into this love affair, it turned out my father, was going on a week long trip. I knew exactly what I wanted, but wasn’t sure how to approach my Ma. No point in being subtle. One afternoon after suckling her passionately, I simply told her “Ma, I think we need to screw.” I wasn’t yet comfortable with using the word fuck in front of her, though I hoped one day I would be. “Really? What are you talking about?,” she said. “Well, after all we’ve done, I think I’d like for us to pretend you’re my wife, and I’m your husband, while dad’s gone for that week trip he’s taking.” We were lovers in everything but fucking anyway, and taking my penis into her wetness wouldn’t make it any more wrong. But she put me off.
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