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This is a teasing (and to some of you even boring) story that takes a while to get interesting… but despite this being fiction it might be hard to describe and explain the passage of events without writing all the things that preceded it, so please bear with me…
Also, don’t expect page after page of fucking; this is more of a saga than a fuck-fest!
I have to be honest and say that I’ve started off with a lie for which I apologise.
Moving Day sounds so much better than “Moving Week” or “Moving Day and the Weeks that Followed” — so that’s the title of how I’ve chosen to describe a whole string of events because it was Moving Day that was the catalyst for everything that followed.
The person most affected by the move was my dear mother; a sprightly female of some forty or so years. (You don’t go telling everyone a woman’s age, do you?) However, what I can say without actually stating her age is that she was 22 when I was born and since I’m now 24 you can do the calculations, can’t you?
My mother is Susan or Sue and I’m Chris, as you well know. Dad is now out of the picture because of his indiscretions and the divorce that followed so I won’t bother with him. I’m an only child; a fact that I’m happy enough about even though it might have been nice to have a brother or sister. However, with the way things have turned out, the lack of a sibling is all to the good… Sharing is fine, but sometimes it’s nice to keep things for yourself!
To me, Mum is gorgeous — well, aren’t a whole lot of mothers? Obviously from my mother comes me and I guess that I was just dead lucky to be born to a winner in the gene stakes because I’m not entirely a mess either. She’s a 5′ 4″ pack of dynamite; a real live-wire character full of fight, but equally full of love. Mum often used to remind me of Sally Field, especially when she was in her Smokey and the Bandit role — a pretty pixie-like face surrounded by loads of bouncy auburn wavy hair. Mum used to be very nicely stacked too — well, she still is, to be honest — topping out with a 36C bust; a trim waistline and, not that I’m an arse man, a cute curvy behind that would sway in such an eye-catching way.
Speaking of my preferences and being blunt, its generous tits that top my desires followed by a nice tidy vagina although of course, I don’t let my lack of interest in other attributes spoil my pleasures.
Anyway, getting down to the story, Dad used to be a successful man working in his government office up in London and as a result Mum and Dad had what seemed to me to be a massive house down here in the countryside that befitted his status I guess. Mum used to love working in the garden, turning it into a thing of beauty. It was full of decorative trees and shrubs; sweeping lawns and borders that in summer were a mass of blooms. Dad even hired a gardener to help Mum because although she did all the planning and much of the planting, it was too much to ask her to mow all the grass and keep everything trimmed as well — but she did well.
As I grew up I was the envy of many other kids but to me it was all just ‘normal’ and I was often pleased to get away from my fathers’ restrictions by mixing joyously with the other kids from the village. That irked Dad, of course, but Mum would side with me, insisting that I needed to see life from both sides. Perhaps it was that kind of difference that eventually split my parents apart — well, that and his ‘tarts’ — who knows. Whatever caused the split, Mum was left with the house and a load of stocks and shares which provided her with a fairly generous income along with the responsibility of bring me up and even if I have to blow my own trumpet I’ll say that Mum did a pretty decent job.
Oh me? Well, I’m just on six feet tall and weigh a whisker over 12 stone — that’s around 170 pounds so I’m relatively trim really. I have light brown hair, nice straight teeth and a well-formed slightly oval face. I love smiling — I’ve always been a happy kind of guy who lets the worries of the world slip by without letting them upset me.
Whatever, I finished my education with a little-above-average college degree and then quickly found myself a desk job with a local business. It wasn’t much but I worked hard, encouraged by Mum and before long I was able to climb the ladder so that by the time I was 23 I was already a Department Manager and was able to set up home on my own. Naturally the little place that I bought was a big climb-down from my parent’s house but it was ‘my’ home wherein I could do what I wanted to do. Of course, that included bringing the girls home and it wasn’t long before I was practicing the art of loving on a whole range of females and it didn’t take me long to realise was that every girl that I bedded resembled my mother to some small degree. It was about then that Dad was removed from the picture, by the way.
Of course, at that time I wasn’t ‘into’ incest and hardly knew anything about it to be honest but nevertheless I noticed that I’d begun to see my mother as my ideal woman. I guess as much as anything halkalı bdsm escort that was because she was the only ‘steady’ female in my life and of course, one looks up to their parents too but I really began to gently lust after her; to have masturbatory dreams of fucking her senseless. Nevertheless, they were merely that — just dreams — whereas in real life I never made any kind of advance on my darling mother nor ever expected anything in return.
Anyway, after I’d moved out I began to get phone calls — and then more phone calls — from my mother who’d quickly begun to feel lonely. Yes, we chatted normally but she also began complaining of the house being cold and empty without other people in it; that the massive gardens were a lot of work and that she had no-one to chatter with. I could entirely understand her feelings but the truth from my side was that I was now having too much fun bedding a whole assortment of girls from around town to worry unduly about her. Instead I simply suggested that she sell up and buy something smaller — and that’s exactly what she did.
It wasn’t more than perhaps six months after I’d moved out that Mum phoned me one evening and she sounded different somehow; perhaps more determined than usual.
“I’ve decided to take your advice,” she said firmly, “Much as I love this place it really is too big for me so I’ve put it on the market.”
“Well done Mum,” I agreed, “Makes sense to be honest — I always felt that one day that place would become a burden rather than a pleasure.”
“I know, this garden really is huge,” she answered, her voice sounding a bit sad, “It already takes over my life to be honest.”
“You don’t need to be tied to your garden; you need to be able to relax and enjoy yourself sometimes,” I added, “Oh, it’s nice to have a big garden, but sometimes — anyway, what are your plans?”
“I’m going to start looking on Monday,” she said, “I know whereabouts I’d like to move to so it’ll just depend on finding something I like.”
“Wish you luck Mum,” I commented, “Will you be ok searching on your own?”
“Oh, I should think so!” she laughed back, “I’ll keep you informed.”
Less than a week later Mum phoned again. Well, she’d already phoned with a flow of updates but this time I could hear that she was extra excited.
“I’ve found it!” she yelled happily, “It’s gorgeous — it’s just where I wanted to be — the views are stupendous — the…”
“Hang on, you don’t own it yet and you haven’t found a buyer for yours yet,” I advised her, “Don’t take it for granted that you’ll end up living there.”
“Ohhh, I’m not darling,” she continued, “But I do really want that place — it looks so lovely.”
“So what’s it like then?” I asked, possibly looking for flaws that Mum hadn’t spotted.
“Ohhh, it’s nice — big picture windows; patio doors; south facing; three bedrooms,” she began, “And the garden is nowhere near so huge.”
“Well, that’s something,” I answered, “Otherwise you’re not downsizing a lot though.”
“Why should I?” said Mum determinedly, “I don’t want to get rid of all my lovely furniture. But don’t be so downhearted! Everything will work out fine, you wait and see!”
And it did — a few days later she phoned again to say that she’d had lots of interest in her home; that several families had already looked round and that the Estate Agent was very hopeful. A couple of days later came another call and this time I knew the story even before Mum told me. Her voice was so bright and bubbly and I felt thrilled for her.
“They’ve accepted my price!” she said, her words tumbling from her in her happiness, “And I’ve agreed to buy the new place and it’s all go! It’s all happening so quickly!”
“Brilliant stuff!” I answered, delighted for her, “I’ll come on over for the weekend and we’ll have a nice chat then.”
“Yes please!” she said happily, “I’ve got so much to tell you!”
The next weekend I went and spent the whole weekend with her and we shared meals, drinks and good chatter just like old times. Mum was obviously absolutely full of exciting news and thoughts and since my life was utterly without thrills at the time, I let her rattle on and on to unload her mind. There were two big armchairs in the lounge but Mum and I sat side by side on the soft comfy sofa instead, our arms leaning gently together; our legs occasionally touching and it was cosy and nice.
Gradually the wine disappeared; then we started on a second bottle and even that was at least half empty before Mum hiccupped and laughed.
“Ooops, that’s a bit too much, I think!” she said, her words slightly blurred, “I think I ought to stop.”
Despite that she then drained her glass before putting it down. I didn’t feel too bad at all so perhaps Mum had been drinking more than me.
“Look at the time anyway Mum,” I said, “It’s after midnight — where’s it all gone?”
“Goodness me, so it is,” slurred Mum, “And now I think my bed is calling.”
She stood up somewhat unsteadily so I rose too and grasped halkalı elit escort her arm to steady her. Mum obviously appreciated my help and company because she turned towards me and as she leaned against me she aimed a kiss at me. Now normally such kisses would be on my cheek but just at the moment that she stretched up so I turned my head and our lips met wetly and firmly.
As if we were suddenly adhered together we kissed for what seemed like ages before Mum suddenly pulled away and looked up at me.
“Ohh, I’m so sorry darling,” she murmured, “I think I got a bit carried away — I only meant to kiss your cheek but that was lovely, wasn’t it?”
“Mmmm, yes, it was,” I agreed, “Unexpected but definitely lovely and anyway it made a nice change from our usual kisses.”
Mum giggled then stretched up and kissed my lips again, but briefly this time but by now I’d become turned on and was appreciating the warmth from this delicious woman so that when she leaned somewhat unsteadily against me I pulled her closer to enjoy the feel of her substantial breasts pressing against me. We kissed again and this time I could swear that I felt Mum’s body squirming slightly against me and in seconds I felt my penis starting to stiffen. I pushed her away a bit, frightened that she might realise my condition but Mum was decidedly inebriated and apart from a last pleasurable hum she didn’t seem to notice.
Mum turned around in my arms and then kind of leaned towards the doorway but as I released her and wished her a good sleep she staggered and I just managed to catch her before she fell over.
“Ohhh ooops darling — I’m all squiffy!” she laughed, “Come and help me please.”
With my arm around her waist I guided her through the door and down the hall towards her bedroom and at that moment I appreciated that she was now using the downstairs guest bedroom as her own because I really hadn’t fancied manoeuvring her up the stairs. We made it to her room but Mum pulled me in with her.
“I think I might need a bit of help,” she slurred as she tried unsuccessfully to reach behind her neck, “Help me get this dress undone will you darling.”
I stepped behind her and began sliding the zip down, an action that revealed, much to my surprise, that she didn’t appear to be wearing a bra. The dress had cups sewn in and as the zip came undone Mum shrugged her shoulders and the dress fell to her waist.
“Oh ooops!” she giggled as she tried to hold her dress up and cover her boobs, “Oh Chris help — I’m stuck!”
She wasn’t so much stuck as caught between two problems but as I stepped in front of her the dilemma solved itself as her hand lost its grip on her dress — an action that made her grab for it with the other hand too — which in turn left her boobs totally exposed.
“Ohhhh Chris — what have I done!” she gasped as she stood there looking shocked.
Her dress had now slithered down to pool at her feet; her arms had lost their intent altogether and now hung by her sides and her amazing breasts pointed right at me! I froze as I gazed at her — totally captivated by the sight of her breasts — and also of the skimpiness of her knickers and the display of pubes beneath them. I’d never seen so much of my mother’s body in such a revealed state, even if the display was unintentional! I could feel my blood pressure, my pulse, my temperature and my cock all rising as I absorbed the sight until Mum coughed lightly.
“I thought you were helping?” she enquired with a silly lopsided grin.
“Ohhh sorry, of course,” I answered as I bent to pick up her dress, but as I did so my face came within a foot or so of her pussy and her heated scent filled my nose.
I inhaled deeply if unintentionally and felt my cock jerk as the erotic aroma stirred my soul but then, gathering my senses I lifted her dress upwards for her to slide into.
“That’s a bit of a waste of time, isn’t it Chris?” Mum said, “I wanted to get out of that thing and into my nightie dear — put it down again.”
I let go of the dress and this time, with her hand on my shoulder Mum stepped out of it and then, after a brief word of thanks she
strode unsteadily over to her chair. She picked up another flimsy garment and dropped it neatly over her head, then stood before me in her nightie — that revealed almost as much as she’d done in the nude!
“Don’t know why you bother!” I commented lightly, “Doesn’t hide much, does it?”
“No darling, but I like to look appealing,” said Mum as she rather crookedly spun around, “You never know who I might meet at night!”
She laughed at her own joke and then, exhausted or drunk she tottered to her bed, threw back the duvet and flopped into bed, quickly covering herself up.
“I wanna go to sleep,” she slurred, “Come and kiss me goodnight then you can shut the door on the way out please.”
Bemused somewhat, I did indeed lean over and kiss her on the lips again then I left the room with one last look back at her. Mum looked as if she was already sleeping — whereas halkalı escort I knew damn well that I’d have to spend time rubbing one out before I slept.
Once in my own room I stripped off and lay down, my erection standing proud of my body as it awaited some action. I grasped it and closed my eyes and there before me were my dear mother’s bulging breasts and lightly-clad pussy. They seemed to expand before my eyes, drawing closer to my face and lips as my arousal grew. I jerked my cock faster and harder as my lips found my mother’s substantial but imaginary nipple and as I began to suck on it in my mind so too I imagined my fingers sliding into her panties, through her pubes and into her wet, warm and welcoming slit.
Such was the reality of my imagination that I felt my climax rising quickly and well before I expected to blow off I erupted powerfully, blasting cum right up onto the pillow beside me. More spurts followed that covered my belly and chest and then it was over and I released my cock which flopped onto my belly.
“Fuck — what the hell?” I grunted to myself as I viewed my splattered body, “That was staggering!”
I sat up and grabbed the towel from the bedside chair — one that Mum put out for her guests — and wiped myself clean before mopping up the small splash of cum on my pillow, then sat up. I couldn’t believe that I’d cum inside perhaps a couple of minutes, driven there by the sight of my mother’s almost naked body.
“Phew,” I sighed as I put the towel down, turned the pillow over and made myself comfy, “What’s the betting I need to do that again.”
Jerking myself off twice in a row was nothing unusual but tonight it turned out that the one orgasm was enough and probably aided by the alcohol I fell asleep even before I knew it.
In the morning I awoke to the sound of the toilet being flushed but somewhat wary of a repeat of last night’s exposure I stayed in bed until I heard Mum’s feet on the stairs. I was downstairs too inside twenty minutes to find Mum eating some breakfast cereals and with her mug of coffee steaming beside her. She didn’t mention the debacle of the night before so I avoided the subject and merely commented on the weather instead — a subject we both enjoyed discussing. We finished our discussion and our breakfasts and then spent much of the day working in her garden just doing all the usual maintenance work that a garden needs — occupational therapy, as we call it. It was relaxing and totally without reference to sex, nudity, alcohol or anything even vaguely controversial.
The following twenty-four hours also passed ‘normally’ despite us both enjoying more wine that evening and then it was time for me to return home. Mum was happy to have had my company and I’d enjoyed our chatter, even without the sexual entertainment!
Eventually Mum and I hugged and kissed — our kisses once again lip to lip but seemingly without any sexual connection — and then I was off and back home before I knew it.
Over the following weeks Mum and I kept in touch as her house sale progressed because in Britain there’s a month-long period between purchase and ‘completion’ of the sale. We therefore knew the date of completion already, with the completion of Mum’s purchase due to take place the week before — it was all very well organised but there was still the worst part — the move.
The plan was that it would be a two-part move and when the day arrived we were all ready. Today I’d hired a van and together we’d move Mum’s more prized possessions; then tomorrow the removal men would come and clear the house and then the following day I’d arranged for a man and van to collect and move her substantial array of potted plants and garden ornaments. To assist, I’d given Mum some sticky labels to stick onto everything that she wanted us to move. I arranged to take a week off work to help her and on the Monday morning I backed the van into her driveway to where Mum was already waiting.
“Ohhh Chris, this is the bit I hate,” said Mum, pulling an unhappy face as she gave me a welcoming kiss.
“Now how can you say that when you haven’t moved for over thirty years!” I said with a laugh, “Come on, let’s get busy and enjoy the work.”
I gave Mum an extra hug to encourage her and eventually got a small smile from her before she led me indoors.
“I’ve put those little labels on everything I want us to take,” she said, “You make sure you’re extra careful with all my special stuff — they’re all my best bits.”
I smirked inwardly — Mum’s ‘best bits’ weren’t her antiques — they were her delicious boobs!
“I know — I will. We’ll also take anything else we can fit in the van — we might as well,” I added as I stretched myself in preparation for the day’s work ahead, “Ok, where do we start?”
In the days prior to ‘removal day’ the forecasters had warned us of something of a heatwave arriving so I was in shorts and a t-shirt and Mum too was dressed accordingly in shorts and a loose-fitting blouse but even so we were sweating before we even started. Before long it became exceptionally hot which was a considerable distraction and it wasn’t helped that Mum’s body was an additional distraction to me too — her legs were slim and nicely shaped despite her age; her arse was beautifully tight inside her shorts and from the way the material of her top moved it was obvious to me that she wasn’t wearing a bra.
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