Deeper Mysteries

Dinner was great. At first, it was hard to pay attention. Following her lead, however, I tried to pretend that the way her breasts jiggled beneath the blouse that she threw on wasn't the only thing that mattered.

Things had started with a fever pitch, and it seemed that now Mom was just trying to slow things down a little bit. She actually looked kind of cute in her Betty Crocker apron. It was as though she considered it important for us to be able to share time together without there being an edge to it.

My raging hormones were driving me one way, but she was clear that there was more to be found in our interaction, something that was rich and beautiful, other than the sexual dimension that she had just opened up for me.

"Mom," I started, "I'm having a little trouble getting my arms around all this. You know. I mean, there are so many missing pieces to the puzzle. I just don't know where to begin."

 All of a sudden, the old mom was back, wise beyond all telling and comfortably sober. "Well," she said, "let's start with what pieces you have clear; your turn…"

"Whew," I expressed from the top half of my lungs. I paused. I struggled. "Again, I'm not sure where to begin."

 After a moment, I asked, "I guess, why now, and why so suddenly? I mean, it seemed sudden at least, but then you said that you've been waiting for some time. It never showed, and then, wow! I, uh…"

"Okay," she cut me off laughing, "slow down a little. I also have to sort through my own feelings about all this . It is somewhat confusing."

"Aaahhh, sorry." I realized that there was an aspect to all this that was not so simple.

"It's all about love, honeybunch." She smiled reassuringly. "Sometimes when we ponder it, I think we're stuck about what 'clear' even means. I mean, really, what is love? It's so much more than what we feel while we are caught up in it. Sometimes I think that we are more painfully aware of where it falls short, or actually where we fall short in trying to show it, trying to live it." "I know I can do better," I interjected.

"That was the furthest thing from my mind, sweetheart," she quickly came to my rescue. "I was thinking more about your father." 

"The only thing that I think you ever said about him was the unfortunate reference to your formerly," I emphasized, "underappreciated pussy?" 

She blushed so much that my heart just melted. 

"Wow," she said, "I'm not sure which leg to stand on." 

"Okay, now you're really going to have to explain." 

"I'll try," she replied in earnest, "but I will have to go way back—long before you were even born." She paused here, as if I was supposed to approve. 

"Go on, I can't wait to hear this." I was really on the edge of my seat. I had never heard any of this and never even asked. And now, this was the first time that I was in her presence since the episode at my physical, and I didn't have a hard-on. 

"Well, when I was in college, there was no shortage of both men and women to pick from." She paused here, appearing to assess my reaction. 

I gave none. I just wanted to listen. She just continued like nothing ever happened, but I sensed that she was rather pleased by my non-reaction. 

"Yes, I wasn't exactly a floozy, but I was a little frisky, and as far as time and my studies allowed…well, let's say I didn't have a lot of idle time. I was, I must admit, more obsessed with my participation in volleyball than with anything else. But that was life as an Opposite Hitter in Lincoln, Nebraska. Anyway, my senior year was a turning point. Everything stalled. I realized that I was a Midwest bundle of energy and had nowhere to go. That was when I met your father. I was, and still am, the type of girl who likes direction, and he had it in spades. 

He was completing his graduate work in business and economics and was headed to Penn with all sorts of promise, and I went right along with him. Two years after I met him, we married; he was a shooting star. For a little while, I was a valued ornament, but little by little, I was lost in the blaze. You were born shortly after, and as far as he was concerned, you were but another detail that needed management, but for me, well, you became the love of my life." 

"Nebraska!?! You were a Husker!? Wow!" I never knew. 

"I'm glad that you found that to be the most interesting thing out of everything I just said!" She sounded both relieved and delighted. 

"This is great," I said. "Keep going." 

"Okay, this is where it gets tricky." She paused. "Well, I'm not sure if 'tricky' is the right word, but even that speaks for itself." 

"I promise…" I paused for a moment and then started over, "I remember a very wise person once saying to me, ‘I'm not here to judge you, if that's what you are worried about.'" 

"Well now, you are still the love of my life!" she beamed. 

Now it was my turn to blush. 

"You would think that I would have been devastated, since I was seemingly neglected while my 'man' was off doing who knows what. But I wasn't. I was always kind of emotionally independent and knew from the start that he was really focused on his career, and that was okay with me. That was the deal. I was going places and seeing new things. I had free rein over what I wanted to pursue, and he always provided well, even as she does now. But out of all that I could have done, I picked you, and you were more than enough to keep my life full." 

"I hope there's more," I meekly requested. "There's still a lot I don't understand." 

"Sure," she said encouragingly. "I spoke a little, during our little 'Lady Bits Tutorial,' about how the emotional dimension of a woman is so different from a guy. I always knew the limits of what I was to expect from your father. For me, he was the best pick for what I needed at the time when we met. However, he never produced a deep response from me as a woman. Among the other men that I had met before him, some had touched me deeper, but this only led to me getting torn up inside. Now, the difference between you and every other guy that I ever came to know was that they all came from some unknown origin, with both baggage and an agenda that didn't really consider me too much. 

You, on the other hand, came out of me. That in itself didn't guarantee that you were going to be a day at the beach, but you turned out to be a terrific investment, and we both really lucked out. Right now, you are the only thing in my life, and I am whatever you need me to be, when you need it. Right now, how would you like another serving? We gotta keep your energy level going, you know." 

"Just dessert would be fine," I said, with just the trace of a smile, reflecting on the after-dinner menu she spoke about earlier today. 

"We can fill in the rest as we go—there is no rule book for what we're doing, you know. I'm on this backwoods journey just like you. We have to take care of each other." And then with an absolutely deadpan blank stare, she added, "Maybe we should take a trip to Appalachia to get some pointers?" 

My trace of a smile stretched to the limit. 

Shuffling the dishes quickly into the dishwasher as I still sat at the table, she suggested that perhaps we could watch a film. As she set the buttons on the machine, she turned away from me for the first time, revealing her perfect and totally naked ass beneath her apron. Betty Crocker never looked this good. Once she was sure that she had my attention, she just stopped with the dishes and bent over just a little more, slightly wiggling her ass. Her now-hairless pussy stared back at me. 

Over her shoulder, she said, "Sometimes, I just like the breeze. When I start thinking about what you're going to do to me, it can get awfully damp and musty down there." 

A glittering stream of light sparkled from the moist lips of her pussy, punctuating her electrifying taunt. She was such an actor and tease, and I just loved it. She rejoiced in my transparent and immediate excited response. She lived for that now. And taunt she did. She played me and my heartstrings like a virtuoso, just like she said she would. She had the ability to say something like that, as if she were placing an order at the drive-thru. Then she would pause, say nothing at all, but just give a look that whispered to you that she was actually picturing something in her mind that was nearly unimaginable. You knew that somehow you would be totally unglued in the process. 

I really had to exert myself emotionally to keep up with her. As challenging as this was, I will never get tired of this, I thought. 

Then, just like that, it was right back to business and said, "How ‘bout if you go pick a movie and I'll catch up with you in a minute?" 

I just barely got myself seated on the edge of the couch when she came in from the kitchen barefoot, wearing only her blouse and holding her apron draped over her arm in front of her. Standing before me, she turned around as she bent over to place the apron on the table directly in front of us. With her beautiful naked pussy squarely before me—again, the slight wiggle.  

"Oh, do take a whiff," she cooed. She ever so slowly backed right into my face. 

Her fragrance was unlike anything I had ever experienced before. She smelled sweet and pungent at the same time, both pure and lured, healthy, but oh so delightfully dirty. It didn't invite. It demanded your capitulation, and as you lost yourself under her, you couldn't imagine ever wanting to be any other place.  

As she continued to press into me, she reached back and held the sides of my face, firmly guiding me into her moist warmth. She moved softly backwards, and she didn't stop until my back and head were against the cushion behind me. I was so overwhelmed. For a moment, I floundered. But the combination of her not-so-subtle advice about the number one target, her clitoris, plus the way she responded to my licking, gradually called up instinctive abilities that were previously unknown to me. I simply let her guide me. It was only a matter of paying attention to her: when to swipe, how fast, where, and for how long; oh, and then a long, firm press would draw deep moans from her until they swelled to engulf me—this all became a unified entanglement of touching, smelling, tasting, hearing, and feeling—both mine and hers increasing in intensity as if there was no distinction between us. It gradually rose to an urgency, becoming our throbbing, convulsive orgasm. 

She collapsed on my lap like she no longer had any bones and melted into my embrace. After a few minutes like that, neither of us moving, almost purring, she finally said, "Oh, honey, you just don't know what you do to me!" 

"Well, if I didn't," I said with a newfound confidence, "at least a little bit anyway, I would never know how to do it." 

Stupefied, she just gazed right through me. "What have I created?" She was stunned! "It's not even been two days, and already you're a sex guru!?" 

It was comical for her to say that, but nevertheless, at the same time, she was a little stunned in a good kind of way. 

"I owe it all to my teacher. You're the absolute best, and you shouldn't expect anything less," was my cocky reply. "Next lesson, please." 

She drew her head back and stared at me with her chin tucked in and her mouth aghast. "You're absolutely too much!" she exclaimed. "Enough of this nonsense! You need to carry me over your shoulder up to your bed right now and fuck me properly!" 

As I started to do just that, she began to squeal and howl, yelling out, "No! I didn't mean it! Put me down! Put me down!" She was flapping her arms and legs in the air in defiant resistance, but up the creaking stairs we went, with her wailing, screaming, and laughing all at the same time. It's been a long time since we have had such family fun.  

***** 

By the time I got us up to my room, she was a little worn out, which was good, because so was I. She was a tall drink of water for a girl at over 5'11", and even though she didn't wear much fat for a 39-year-old woman, she was full-figured and probably weighed over 150 pounds. I could easily picture her on the slide, punching out a non-stoppable kill in her red Nebraska uniform. 

"What a sack of potatoes!" I exclaimed as I dumped her onto my bed. 

"Take that back, you caveman!" she defiantly countered at the top of her lungs. 

She wasn't so shallow as to be fishing for a compliment. It was very easy for me to respond. 

Holding her pinned down at her shoulders, I said, "Fully clothed or completely naked, sudsy wet or bone dry, you are without a doubt the most beautiful sack of potatoes I've ever eaten from. And I'm going to do it again right now!" 

As I dropped to the bed, targeting the most beautiful pussy on earth, she again began to squirm and squeal with delight, but that only lasted until my face hit her vulva. 

I liked this position better than the way she had backed into me downstairs. Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining—it's just that now, as I have much better control, I'm able to easily make use of both my hands and a much better view. In no time, she was moaning deep and guttural pleas. I figured out right away that, "I can't take any more!" really means, "Don't quit now, I'm not there yet!" If she can still talk, you're not done. I never knew that growing up could be so enjoyable. 

After she climaxed the third time, she was so sensitive that her clitoris was, for a little while, untouchable. She was, however, in such a condition that it was easy to catch her off guard. I quickly brought my cock to her entrance, and without knocking, I went right through the door and steadily pressed right in to the hilt. She threw her arms straight out to the side and pressed down on the mattress, lifting us both up five inches from the bed, and then immediately collapsed. Suddenness, I discovered, works both ways. With her next breath, she wrapped her arms and legs so tightly around me that if she weren't so feminine, it would have hurt. I slowly started to move, and she undulated in sync beneath me. 

"Oh … my … god. Oh … my … god. Oh … my … god," she strained to slowly repeat these words; only these, nothing more. 

The way she compulsively clamped her vagina spasmodically around my pulsing cock was so intimately responsive to my equally urgent driving into her that, once again, I became lost in the dance of our togetherness. We melded into one. This finally culminated in a protracted moan, extended muscle contraction, and then a long, expired breath. We both collapsed without the thought of ever moving again. 

Lying together on our backs, we both stared at the ceiling. I glanced her way. Her face revealed a peace that was contagious. 

"You know," she softly said, still recovering her breath. "I did say to you that I've been waiting for some time, but I really never knew what it was that I was waiting for. In a way, I guess the deep feminine in me was called out of hiding at your physical exam the other day. It was a very big deal for me, too, you know. There's much more that I have to share with you. For starters, I'm really not accustomed to being so excited." 

She paused to savor the moment, gently squeezed my bicep with both hands, and then continued reflectively, "Your dad has like zero libido." She glanced toward me for just a moment, moving her hand to my chest as she did so, "and if it still surfaces now, it's probably at the hand of some high-end escort, and on his timing and schedule. I really wouldn't know, nor do I really care. I do greatly appreciate that he never gets in the way. More on him later. "Now, as for you, on the other hand," she perked right up, “I shouldn't have even been in there then during your exam to begin with. You're a pretty well-grown boy." She smiled knowingly, still staring at the ceiling. "It was just the odd circumstances on that day. And lucky for me—for both of us, I'd say."

She glanced my way again, just briefly to make eye contact, then returned to the ceiling. "I knew that you were tense with me being there, but when you got undressed for the doctor, and I saw that huge ramrod of a penis that you're wearing start to swell and...