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A Bride, chapter 4

""God i love you, fuck me Tommy, fuck me"

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"I could just go to sleep like this" she sighed happily and reached for a cigarette.

"Light me one too mum will you please?"

"I didn't know you smoked," she said but lit me one anyway.

"I like a joint occasionally, but only when I'm with a girlfriend and I haven't got one of those at the moment."

She passed me the cigarette and watched as I inhaled the smoke.

"They say that's as good as a kiss," she said smiling at me.

"What is?"

"Taking a cigarette that's been in someone else's mouth."

"No." I shook my head.

"No?"

"Definitely not mum." I smiled at her. "Not as nice as one of your kisses anyway."

I realised that it was the booze talking, even as I said it, but I didn't care.

"Put the cigarette down Tommy," she said softly.

I stubbed the cigarette out in the ashtray and when I turned back again her mouth was on mine, her lips apart, her breath warm in my mouth.

"Mum!"

I was shocked, but her tongue was in my mouth, she was warm and soft and curvy.

Slowly and lovingly we kissed and tasted each other, I sucked the wetness from her tongue and savoured it, she whimpered and pressed herself against me, her nipples, hard little pebble-like points of desire. I ran my hands over her naked back, beneath her armpits, down to her hips while her own hands caressed my back.

It didn't end suddenly, but gradually we seemed to regain our self-control, God I wanted her so much, she had become more than my mother, much, much more. She'd become a beautiful, desirable woman who'd frightened us both with the sheer depth of the emotions she'd hidden for four years.

We touched lips again and looked at each other.

"Wow," I said softly and she laid her head against my chest.

"That shouldn't have happened Tommy," she said quietly. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what mum?" I stroked her back gently and she shivered. "Sorry for kissing me? I'm not, it was beautiful mum, the most beautiful experience of my life."

"I lost control Tommy, we nearly, well you know."

"No you didn't mum, you didn't lose control, you responded to your emotions, your feelings and so did I."

"Can I have a cigarette please?"

I lit one for her, using one hand, she was clinging to me and I didn't want it to end.

"There you go, a kiss by way of a cigarette."

"The real thing's a lot nicer."

"The real thing's beautiful, just like the lady who showed me the real thing."

"Oh Tommy, I've not shown you the real thing," she looked up into my eyes. "Yet."

"Mum, if we'd have carried on we'd have both regretted it."

I felt the movement as she nodded in agreement, then she gasped as I continued.

"I'd have fucked you, mum, I nearly did too, I wanted to."

"But?"

"But, I'm glad I didn't."

"Why Tommy?"

"Because really mum, I don't want to fuck you."

"Oh, I feel silly now."

"Well don't mum, I really don't want to fuck you." I took the cigarette away from her and stubbed it out when I held her again there were tears in her eyes.

"I don't want to fuck you mum, because I want to make love to you, I want to be stone cold sober as well as you when we do it."

I slipped a hand round to her breasts and cupped one in the palm of my hand,

"I want to feel every inch of me against you, inside you, I want to be in full control of my senses, I want to know that it's me you want and not a booze induced thrill that'll make us both ashamed the next morning."

I felt the nipple rising in my hand and I teased it gently between my fingers.

"He fucked you mum, he never made love to you, do you think I didn't hear you crying? He used you like he'd use his fucking hand when you weren't there, well I'm not him mum, I'm me, Tommy and I love you, and I'm pissed now and tired and it's my turn to feel silly."

"Tommy, no-one, but no-one has ever said anything like that to me before, no-one has ever spoken like that to me before, but I'm pissed too and tired as well."

She hooked an arm around my neck and touched her lips to mine in the gentlest of kisses.

"Take me to bed Tommy and just hold me, just be there darling for me, be there next to me when I wake up."

I think we were both asleep almost as soon as our heads hit the pillow, I know I was. I don't think we moved very much in the night either, I woke up in the morning, still with mum's face next to mine and our arms round each other.

"Hi." she said softly, "I thought you were never going to wake up."

"Hi." I kissed her nose and even that slightest of movements sent a spasm through my neck.

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"Oh God," I groaned. "I'm stiff mum."

She giggled and squirmed against me sexily.

"I know that."

I honestly hadn't realised that my usual morning erection was standing up proudly, pressed between us like a bloody flagpole.

"And we're both sober now."

Her lips parted slightly under the pressure of my own lips. I groaned again, this time not with the creaking of limbs that hadn't moved for hours, but with the pleasure of feeling a hand finding my penis. As I rolled on top of her, she guided it to the source of the warmth between her legs.

"Oh Tommy," she breathed into my mouth as she opened herself to me.

She was warm, wet and welcoming, I felt the back of her heels hooking themselves behind my shins as she accepted me and began to move rhythmically in time with my own tentative probing.

"Mum," I gasped. "This is beautiful."

She gripped my back tightly and nibbled my neck.

"Tommy, do it baby, do it to me, oh sweet Jesus, Tommy."

Without any conscious effort at all, my movements increased. I ran my hands beneath her and cupped the cheeks of her bottom, pulling her against me. Once or twice she sobbed and I felt her seeming to jerk in spasms. I thought I was hurting her in my ignorance, but when I hesitated, she whimpered and thrust herself back at me.

"I love you, Tommy, God I love you, now fuck me, baby, fuck me."

The delicious obscenity of the words whispered into my ear sent a thrill coursing through me. Suddenly I stiffened, and she gasped as she felt me go rigid, every muscle, every sinew was taut. The only movement at all between us both, for those brief moments, was the subtle squeezing of my penis by her vaginal muscles.

Then with an involuntary grunt, I lunged forward and let go of everything inside me, my hips jerked and sent a jet of my hot seed into her. She squealed as I grunted, again and again, each animalistic groan signalling another spurt of my sperm deep into her willingly receptive body.

At last my own body lay still, back under my control again and we lay panting in each other's arms, each one searching deep inside ourselves.

"Tommy?"

I looked at her in silence, not trusting myself to speak.

"You okay?"

I nodded and drew her into my embrace. "Mum, I'm more than all right, I'm fantastic." and she giggled. "You certainly are."

"No," I laughed. "That's not what I meant mum, I..."

"It's what I meant though, you know when you thought you were hurting me?"

"Yes."

She giggled again and hid her face under my neck.

"You weren't hurting me you fool, I was cumming."

"Yeah but..."

"Tommy, I came six bloody times."

I lay back and grinned, basking in her words.

"Six times?"

"Yup." she laughed.

"Want to make it seven?"

"Can't."

"Can't or won't?"

"Can't."

"Why not?" I said, feigning annoyance and she slipped out of bed.

"I'm the tomato lady now, remember?"

"Aw, shit mum."

"And it's Saturday too, payday from Mr. Patel."

I handed her the little book with all the week's transactions in it and watched as she studied my efforts at bookkeeping before she ran downstairs excitedly to the shop. While she was gone I toasted some bread and made a pot of tea for breakfast, hearing the side gate open, I peered out and watched her gathering the day's requirements of tomatoes.

It was such a simple thing that I'd started, more for the pleasure of watching the fruit grow than any monetary reward, but the pleasure I got from watching her study each tomato carefully before pulling it and placing it carefully in the bag, was almost painful.

She'd married my father just six months after her sixteenth birthday and gave birth to me three months later. He'd been unemployed when they married and he'd remained unemployed right up to the day he died. His only exercise had been when he'd blown his dole money on booze and came home to use her as a punching bag.

Throughout the whole of her married life with him she never knew what it was to have money in her purse that wasn't already accounted for, that's why to this day, the gold bracelet she bought for me that day, remains so special to me.

It probably cost roundabout the hundred and fifty-pound mark and I knew that without doubt, that was the largest amount of money she'd ever seen in her life before and she'd spent it without any thought on a present for me!

No wonder I had a tear in my eye as I watched her with the tomatoes.

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Written by davedax97
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