It was Mother’s Day. I know it’s been almost a week since but I had been so busy that the time to tell you all about it just slipped into the activities of the week. These things happen and we never get to tell or, we delay it until we force ourselves to sit down and pencil it for the delight of our readers.

As per usual, the day started with the coffee in bed and the breakfast prepared by the kids. All of it as that special treat for the celebration of Mother’s Day. Elation was felt in the one corner of the king size bed in our master bedroom with various gifts being bragged with and every single one creating a smile of appreciation on Mom’s face.

Now, as it was, I had not had a bite to eat for more than a week; almost two weeks in fact. Though it was not really on my mind, I mean, dominating it, it was there, at the back of my mind. We have had a few ups and downs regulating the play schedule, amongst others, forever the bloody rag (excuse the pun), some problems between us and the tough schedule we both had during the week.

The party in the bedroom was concluded and moved to the porch for coffee and some snacks. There is a fair amount of creativity in our house. Sadly, though, these only come into play on birthdays and special days like Mother’s Day.

But this is not about the creativity of getting the deserved one some special treats on a day like this.

Well, perhaps yes. Because, as soon as I felt the events on the porch was drawing to a close, I announced it was time for me to get a shower. Not that I sat around idly and let two teenagers strut their stuff to impress Mommy. In the course of the morning that far, I had also prepared the roast. A big hunk of four pounds of juicy pork was already marinating in cherry and all sorts of herbs.

On top of a few things, I also have the ability to strut my own stuff with culinary delights my family relish on a regular basis.

As I walked inside, my wife mentioned that she was right behind me; she was going to shower with me. Now I know you’re probably guessing what would happen as soon as the water cascaded over our naked hungry bodies? Not really… (refer to various aspects limiting the activities in the sack?)

As it was, I was in the shower first. My wife soon joined me and we went about the normal routine. I washed and rinsed her hair and gave her a peck on her lips to indicate I was done. She did her normal things, drying her face and her ears before reaching for the soap.

But, she could see me waiting and she allowed me to pull her into me for a long and intimate kiss. This was usual for us and the kiss did not mean action was on its way… never.

This was different though. I started growing against her pussy and she tolerated this for a few moments before breaking the kiss. At that point, when she broke of, I was standing at forty-five degrees hard.

I looked at her, she looked at me and I asked her, “So, what do you suppose I do with this now?”

She smiled, looked down, smiled again and just shrugged before reaching for the soap. Before she could close her hand over her bar of beauty soap, she was against me again. She was a bit surprised but did not retreat from my cock poking her in her stomach.

We kissed again, deeper this time as she knew what was coming her way. With a bit of a wiggle here and a bit there, my cock nestled itself against her mound.

Still it was just pushed against her pussy. Then I did what I have never done before.

I moved my foot against the inside of her one ankle and tapped insistently. She got the message and as soon as her foot moved, I drove my cock deeper until my glans was snuggly fitted between her kegs and her inner folds.

I could feel her heat.

We resumed our kissing while I gently rocked my cock between her legs, rubbing her where it counts.

She soon removed me and gently rubbed me for a while, cupping my balls and gently massaging the two orbs. I had her two generous 34E’s filling my hands and I felt the effect of my ministrations in her kissing.

It did not take long for her to replace me between her pussy lips. She was now very wet but still she opened her pussy for me to drive inside her tightness. I am not a big guy. Average, with a good girth for some added effect. But, she had always been tight.

We settled into a Ballet Dancer style with me driving as deep into her as the position would allow. Soon she was relaxing around me, accepting my girth and lubricating as we went along. As I pumped into her, she brought her left leg up and around my hip. Grabbing the leg to hold it in place she moaned with the additional length entering her. I could feel her cervix kissing my cock head each time I bottomed out.

She was getting wetter with each deep stroke she accepted. Her grip on me was telling me she was well on her way to her first medal.

Suddenly she groaned, her nails dug into my shoulders and neck and she tumbled over the precipice of orgasmic release.

She kissed me again before she disconnected from my cock to turn her back to me.

Rubbing some pre-cum from my cock, I lubricated before moving against her. She allowed me to rub my wet, hard cock against her pussy from behind before parting her lips for my pleasure.

I settled into a slow, deep rhythm, cupping her breasts from behind. She pushed against me and held unto my upper leg for stability.

Once again I took one foot and tapped the inside of her ankle. She spread her legs a bit and I slipped much deeper into her. She only groaned with the added inch or so filling her. Afterward I wondered why I had never thought of just getting her to spread it a bit. Call me stupid? You’re more than welcome to it.

Au Contraire my friend, at that stage any comment from you would have washed away with the tepid water splashing over our naked, super charged bodies. Soon her grip was noticeably tighter on the outside of my thigh. She was going for another trophy if her groaning was anything to go by. As for me, I was going to give her a run for it. If she beat me to it, it would be good. As long as I was there a close second ahead of her, or there at the same time.

With a race that was becoming a fest of wet skin slapping wet skin, grips becoming desperate and hard to maintain, we set of down the last stretch.

She was there first. In my almost oblivion, ears ringing with exertion, I realised her grip was piercing the skin on my leg and her groans more guttural.

With a sharp groan, her whole body went rigid. Her orgasm set me off and I spurted everything I had inside her.

We remained like that for a minute or so, coming down and catching our breaths before I pulled from her.

Several blobs of cum fell from her pussy and twirled with the water into the outlet.

She looked at the cum washing away thoughtfully before adding, “That is one Mother’s Day present I cannot post on Facebook.”

I just laughed.