Fireflies, Part Two

  • Posted on May 23, 2015 at 11:32 am

By JetBoy

Mom led me into her bedroom, switching on a small lamp on the nightstand.

Her soft arms twined round my waist, mine round hers. We gazed at one another for a long moment, both of us suddenly shy, unsure of what to do next.

“I love you, Mom,” I whispered.

“Oh… I adore you, my sweet, sweet child,” she replied, her eyes misty. Then, just like that, our mouths met in an angel-soft kiss. I felt the tip of her tongue graze my lover lip, fanning my lust into a roaring flame. My own tongue came to life, seeking hers as our kiss grew increasingly hungry.

I slid my hands down Mom’s back to cradle her ass through her skirt. She moaned into my mouth, then suddenly pulled away. “Let me,” she gasped, fumbling at the buttons on her blouse. “I… oh, God, I need to be naked for you.”

I stopped her. “No, Mom. You’re a gift, the nicest I’ve ever had… and I want to unwrap you myself.”

Calming herself, Mom gazed at me dreamily. “Such lovely things you say to me, baby.” She placed a soft kiss upon my mouth, then stood silently before me, waiting to be undressed.

I took up where my mother had left off, unfastening her top one button at a time. Sliding the blouse from her ivory shoulders, I reached around her back to undo the catch of her bra. She shrugged it off, baring her breasts for me. I dipped my head to lick at a nipple — she shivered with delight — then resumed my work.

Flicking open the clasp of her skirt, I let the navy blue garment fall carelessly to the floor, leaving my mother in French cut panties. My eyes widened in surprise; I’d not known Mom’s taste ran to such sexy underthings.

Kneeling at her feet, I pressed my face into Mom’s belly, breathing in the sweet scent of her skin, deliciously tinged with a hint of wet pussy. Seeking its source, I nuzzled my way down to the dampened front of her panties, kissing her vaginal cleft through the gauzy material.

“My God,” she moaned, “I can’t b-believe this is really happening. I — I’ve wanted you, dreamed of being with you f-for so long…!”

Grasping the waistband of my mother’s panties, I tugged them down to her ankles with a single fluid motion, baring the curly triangle of her pubes. She stepped from the filmy knickers, then stood before me, posing for a moment. Then she laid down on her bed, naked and open, one hand tucked beneath her head.

“Well, honey?” she murmured, shyly enough to send my lust soaring even higher. “Do you like what you see?”

“I do, Mom,” I crooned. “You are a beautiful blossom, and I’m going to love you like you’ve never been loved before.”

I quickly undid my dress, letting it fall to the floor, then pulled my panties down and off. Now nude, I crawled onto the bed with her, straddling my mother on all fours, then bent to touch her left nipple with my lips before taking it into my mouth. She moaned as my tongue flicked at the stiffening tip. Her hand brushed my hair from my forehead. “I adore you,” she whispered.

I let my hand wander over her body until it rested between Mom’s thighs, my finger tracing the opening to her cunt. She welcomed my intrusion, parting her legs even wider for me. She smiled dreamily. “Oh, my… you’re good at this, honey.”

I pressed a fingertip inside her. “Oooohhh,” she mewed as I went deeper, then began to slide in and out — and just like that, I was fucking my mother!

My thumb began to press against her clit, and Mom’s eyes widened in awe. “Oh Christ, Marcie–”

“Shhh,” I pressed my fingers to her lips. “Don’t say anything. Just let me please you.” I manipulated her clitoris for a bit longer, then leaned down and took it between my lips, flicking the inflamed nubbin with the tip of my tongue.

Surprised, she thrust her hips against my face, the bed shifting beneath us. I buried my face in my mother’s soft chestnut curls, lips pressing into the moist, tangy flesh of her cunt in a lover’s kiss. The taste was intoxicating. Her thighs framed my face as I penetrated my mother with an exploring tongue.

My head spun at the enormity of what we were doing. An hour ago, Mom and I were innocently passing the time of day, chatting and fixing dinner. Now, I was naked and so was she, and I was fucking her with my mouth, her essence coating my lips and chin. It was forbidden, it was crossing a dangerous line, it was probably even illegal — and at that moment, it felt like destiny. Believe it or not, what surprised me most of all was that we’d never made love before.

I wanted all of her, hungered and thirsted for this incomparable woman who had given me life. She had always been there for me — now it was my turn to bestow a precious gift upon her. The gift of sexual ecstasy, freely given out of love.

My hand covered a breast, the other fondled her opening, my lips nursed her clit, and they all made love to my mother; loved her body and soul until she cried out; bucking wildly in the throes of orgasm.

Even after Mom’s climax had peaked and waned, I continued to lightly kiss her vulva, keeping her pleasure simmering while she recovered. She enjoyed it, too, crooning contentedly as I nuzzled her now matted pubes, savoring the thick, luscious taste and aroma of cunt.

Finally she touched my shoulder. “Come here, sweetheart,” she gasped. “I… I need a kiss.”

Lifting my head from between her thighs, I rose to my knees, gazing down in awe at my nude mother. Her hair was delightfully askew, her face flushed, body glistening with a fine sheen of perspiration — yet, somehow, she was even more lovely than ever. Grasping her extended hand, I allowed Mom to draw me down into her arms.

I lay atop my mother’s luscious body, between her thighs, loving the warmth and softness of this woman from whose vagina I had emerged so very long ago. Our mouths met, and I moaned out loud when Mom’s tongue emerged to trace a circle around my sticky lips, sampling her own sex.

We kissed for a long, lovely while, then Mom gently broke away. “I want to taste you now, baby,” she whispered. “Let me lick your pussy.”

Giving her a smile and a light kiss on the tip of her nose, I extricated myself from my mother’s embrace and rose to my knees, then moved to straddle her face. Her expression was one of wonder as she studied my cunt up close for the first time since my infancy. “So beautiful,” she sighed, brushing my sex with her fingertips. Closing her eyes, she takes a deep, luxurious breath, placing her hands on my hips. “Mmmm… you smell divine, darling — a libation to the gods.”

I was practically shivering with desire and my need for release… but the college student in me had to ask. “Um… isn’t a libation a drink, Mom?”

My mother looked at me with twinkling eyes. “Yes,” she murmured. “Yes, it is.” And she drew my cunt down to her waiting mouth, penetrating me with a sharp thrust of the tongue.

A strangled cry broke from my throat as my mother feasted on me, her mouth making wet sounds as she greedily drank deep of my womanly essence. I swayed back and forth atop Mom’s face, hugging myself, my body throbbing with the pleasure that only lesbian sweethearts can know.

I basked in the moment, nearly sobbing in joy as my mother’s tongue circled the opening of my cunt, her lips buried in the moist, warm flesh. Oh, she had a wicked, wicked mouth, and knew how to use it to drive me wild. But as I lurched headlong toward the blessed oblivion of orgasm, she suddenly drew away to nuzzle my inner thighs.

I moaned, cheated of the release I craved. Damn... Mom was teasing me! I felt the warmth of her breath caress my pubis as she slowly licked her way back to my sexual center; then once again, the rollercoaster began its slow ascent.

Mom pleasured me every which way for the longest while — taking me to within a millimeter of release, then shifting her attention just enough to deny the climax I craved. There are many ways to love a woman’s sex with your mouth, and my mother had clearly learned more than a few of these from her previous bedmates.

She pressed open-mouthed kisses into my cunt, occasionally punctuated by quick darting flashes of tongue… bathed the surface of my vulva with long, slow licks that always ended with a brief flick at the clitoris… nibbled playfully at my labia, tugging at the sensitive flesh.

Then, just when I was on the verge of frustrated tears, Mom’s lips enveloped my clit, sucking delicately at the inflamed tip. My entire body arched up from the bed as an enormous orgasm hit me like a fist, cartoon stars cascading behind my eyes.

I’d never come so explosively. Rivulets of fire seemed to course through every inch of me as I bucked and rocked in a mad frenzy, tightly clutching my breasts. I wanted to scream, but was incapable of sound.

To this day, I wonder: was my pleasure so intense because of Mom’s skill as a lover? Or was it because the forbidden aspect of our fucking added to my excitement? Actually, I like to think of a third possibility — that the blood bond between my mother and I meant that she knew my body as well as her own, sensing instinctively what her baby girl needed.

I found myself curled upon my side, not quite knowing how I’d gotten there. Dazed, utterly spent, I felt the heat of Mom’s body against mine. My eyes slowly opened, then focused on her smiling face.

“Oh, Marcie,” she sighed, “that was — incredible. I’ve imagined b-being with you for a long time, you know… but my fantasies didn’t come close to the real thing.” She brushed my damp forehead with her lips. “That wasn’t sex, honey — it was poetry.”

I rolled my eyes. “Mom, please… shut up and kiss me.”

With a giggle, she closed the gap between us to do just that.

We lay together in blissful silence for a long while, our mouths playing sweet, childish games together. The lustful urgency that had claimed us earlier had waned, replaced by a warm, contented glow. Our tongues entwined languidly as Mom and I explored just about every possible way that two women could kiss.

It was so good, so perfect. Right then, I loved Mom more than anyone or anything. She was my parent, my friend, my teacher, my rock of stability in an uncertain world — and now, a sexual partner.

After awhile our loins began to throb with renewed desire, and Mom and I came together to make love once more. This time, I slid between her legs, positioning our bodies so that my wet cunt was resting against hers. Gripping my mother’s soft, creamy thigh, I began to move my hips, slowly grinding our sexes together. With a coo of delight, Mom responded in kind, pushing back into me.

Every other time I’d fucked a woman this way, it was fast and furious; an intense workout. But as for my mother and I, we took our sweet time at first, allowing the pleasure to build gradually. We couldn’t kiss, but I reached out to fondle her breasts, then caressed her flushed face. She took my fingers between her lips, sucking them.

The feeling of her hot, wet flesh sliding against mine was exquisite, the rich wine of our lust flowing in unison. I was brought up in a Christian household and have always been a believer… and though it might sound like blasphemy to some, making love to Mom in this wondrous way seemed like the nearest I’d ever come to being touched by the hand of God.

When we came, it was simultaneously — her ecstasy feeding my own, mine amplifying hers. The gentleness of our coupling quickly became frenzied, bodies rocking together in an increasingly crazed rhythm. We drove one another harder, faster; like wild beasts in heat. Finally, our mutual joy reached its unimaginable peak, and I simply let go, falling back into the damp sheets.

Somehow Mom and I moved into each other’s arms, and we lay entwined for a long while, our sweat-glazed bodies gradually cooling with the approach of night. The sounds of the neighborhood serenaded us through the open window as we rested, letting the world return in its own good time.

Finally, my mother’s body shifted against mine, and I opened my eyes to find her smiling at me.

“Love you, sweetheart,” she murmured, just the same as she always had.

“Love you too, Mom,” I replied.

Disentangling herself from me, she slowly rose, stretched herself with a contented yawn, then bent to pick up her dress. Draping it over her arm, she turned to me, that gentle smile still on her lips. “I’m going to take a quick shower, honey… then finish getting our supper ready. I suppose we’ll be dining later than usual tonight.” She paused. “You should wash up, too. I’ve put fresh towels in your bathroom.” And with that, she exited, still naked. I stared at Mom’s generous ass as she moved through the door, then disappeared down the hallway. Just like that.

Dazed, I shook my head to clear it, wondering what the hell just happened? My mother and I had come to bed, undressed and made passionate love — and suddenly she was Mom again, making small talk as if we’d only sorted the laundry together!

It confused me, but I decided to follow her lead for now. So off to the shower I scooted, to wash away the evidence of our loving.

As I scrubbed myself beneath the flowing water, I wondered if this would be a one-time thing; if Mom would ever want to be intimate again. A tendril of sadness touched me at the thought of never getting another chance to kiss my mother that way — to undress her, to touch her beautiful body, to taste her pussy. I licked at my lips, hoping that a trace of her still lingered there.

Jesus, this was crazy. Mom and I had made love mere minutes ago — and I was already hungering for more!

I felt an impulse to press a hand between my legs and masturbate, right there and then. Instead, I somehow managed to curb my lust long enough to finish washing myself, then climbed out and toweled my body dry.

Back in my bedroom, I selected some fresh clothes to wear. Wanting to look my sexiest, I chose a short blue dress that showed my figure off quite nicely, deciding to go nude underneath. A hint of lipstick, a touch of scent, some deft work with the hairbrush and I stood before the mirror, liking what I saw and hoping that Mom would too.

Just then I heart her voice, wafting up the stairs. “Honey… supper’s ready.”

Taking a deep breath, my heart fluttering, I made my way downstairs.

I had no idea what to expect, so it was something of a surprise to enter the dining room and find my mother standing beside her chair like she usually was before we sat down to dine, waiting for me. Like always, we joined hands and Mom said a brief blessing, then with our whispered, “Amen,” we took our seats and began to fill our plates.

As we ate, we innocently chatted about Mom’s work and my classes. She filled me in on the latest doings in our neighborhood, and I talked about the books I’d read lately.

It was such a normal, pleasant evening that the hot sex my mother and I had shared earlier began to seem like a weird dream; the kind of thing my perverted mind might have conjured up after eating pepperoni pizza at three in the morning.

After a dessert of homemade peach cobbler, we cleared the table and washed up together like we always did — Mom washing, me drying. Despite the undercurrent of erotic tension I felt coursing through my belly, the mood was relaxed and mellow.

I placed the last clean dish in the cupboard, then turned to Mom, ready for anything. She gave me the sweetest smile. “Want to watch a movie? I rented one for us. It’s just a silly little romantic comedy, but…” She was blushing.

“Sure, Mom… I’d love to.”

We moved to the living room, where Mom put the DVD in the player and I switched off the lamp on the end table, leaving the room illuminated by the glow of the television screen. Side by side Mom and I sat on the couch, watching the opening credits as they scrolled past.

I tried to lose myself in the film, but was conscious of little else but my mother’s nearness; the warmth of her body next to mine. Mom had applied a fresh hint of the gardenia scent I’d always loved, and it had never seemed so enticing.

There was a nearly irresistible urge that burned inside me; telling me to slip a hand under Mom’s skirt, gliding between those soft thighs until I was touching the warm, womanly center of her.

Instead, I kept my hands to myself, like a frightened adolescent boy on his first date. What if I came on to Mom right then? What would she say? This was utterly absurd. We’d had our faces buried in each other’s cunts just a couple of hours ago, and now I was too nervous to put a hand on her leg!

Needless to say, I retained almost nothing of the movie. My mind was lost in a mad whirl of love, lust, sex and incest.

It seemed a small eternity before the swelling strings signaled the film’s end. Mom switched on the lamp, and once more I waited for something, anything to happen.

She stood, stretched, then murmured, “Oh, my, it’s been quite a day… time for bed, I think.”

A note of helpless melancholy sounded inside me at the thought of Mom departing for the night, leaving me alone — and that was when she reached out to take my hand.

“Marcie, honey,” she whispered, giving me a look I could have basked in forever, “will you sleep with me tonight?”

I brought her hand to my face, pressing a kiss into her palm. “Yes, Mom,” I replied, my voice quivering with emotion. “I… I’d love to.”

Once again we mounted the stairs together, our hands still lovingly entwined. Only this time, the fevered anticipation of that first climb to Mom’s bed had been replaced by a feeling of warmth and well-being.

Somehow at that moment my thoughts returned to the fireflies that illuminated our back yard on warm evenings like this; tiny, ever-moving smears of green and yellow. As a little girl who loved to capture those wondrous insects, then release them back into the Alabama evening, I’d imagined that the soft light they emitted was a sign of their happiness. Suddenly, I found myself wanting to believe that again; because I seemed to be filled with that same light, shining in me like God’s love.

We entered my mother’s bedroom together, quickly moving into a lover’s embrace. My mouth sought out hers, and we kissed. Her soft lips brushed enticingly against mine; then our tongues engaged, almost bashfully at first. Soon, though, our kissing was ardent and oh, so sensual.

Grasping the lower half of Mom’s dress, I hoisted it up, baring her legs. She lifted her arms, allowing me to undress her. Mom was nude underneath but for pink panties, and I knelt to tug them down to her feet. My heart leapt as I uncovered the thick furze of her bush, yearning to feel those dark red curls ticking my nose.

I moved closer, intending to bury my face between my mother’s thighs and drink from the fleshy chalice… but I was halted by her hand on my shoulder. “No need to rush, honeybunch,” Mom laughed. “It’s a long time until morning. Why don’t you let me undress you now?”

I sheepishly rise, and with a coo of delight, she tugs my dress up and off. Being Mom, she has to neatly fold my dress and place it on a nearby chair, her eyes drinking in my nudity. Somehow, that simple gesture makes me smile.

Mom reaches out to touch me, trailing the tips of her fingers between my breasts, over the belly and down to tangle in my neatly trimmed pubic strip. “You are a vision of loveliness, my child,” she whispers. “My precious, precious flower.”

“You’re the beautiful one, Mom,” I reply, allowing a hand to glide down her side until it rests on the curve of her hip. “I see girls at school who think they’re so sexy and desirable… but there’s nothing real about them.” My hand travels around her body as I move closer, caressing her ripe, round ass. “All they want is to be perfect little Barbie dolls.” I traced the cleft of my mother’s anus with a gently probing finger, and she whimpered. “What I want is a woman, Mom. That’s you. A real, imperfect, magnificent woman who I’m aching to fuck.”

Mom’s eyes twinkled as her arms entwine me. “Go right ahead, baby,” she breathed, her mouth covering mine, parting my lips with an inquisitive tongue.

As if dancing, we made our way to Mom’s bed with a few graceful steps — still in each other’s arms, unwilling to break our passionate kiss for even a second. We relaxed into the sheets, two nude bodies sliding silkily together.

There we were, my mother and I — naked, in bed and ready to experience lesbian incest once again — but we were too caught up in kissing to take things any further. We fed like hungry babies on one another’s mouths, our tongues darting, retreating, tangling as we kissed over and over again. Or was it a single kiss that lasted for a small, sweet eternity?

Of course, the sexual heat between Mom and I had to finally spill over, igniting the sheets with renewed passion. Our hands began to boldly wander, fingers creeping into intimate places.

Finally I broke away from my mother with a quick peck on her nose, raising up just far enough to twist around 180 degrees, reversing myself atop her body. A blissful sigh flowed from me as I came face to face — so to speak — with Mom’s pussy.

And what a glorious sight that was, dear readers… framed by soft auburn pubes, her labia were swollen with arousal and parted to reveal glistening pink flesh, crowned by the inflamed tip of Mom’s clitoris. I inhaled deeply, drinking in the rich, musky aroma of her cunt, letting the scent transport me. This was a moment in time that I wanted to keep and savor for always.

And that was when I felt Mom’s hands on my hips as she drew me down to delve between my thighs, covering my throbbing sex with her mouth — that long, lovely tongue penetrating me in a lewd variation on the French kiss.

I pressed my face deep into the musky swamp that was Mom’s cunt, wanting to baptize myself in her honey. And even though I’d only gone down on her once before, her pussy already seemed as familiar to me as my beloved teddy bear. But after all, I remind myself with a sticky smile, this was my home before I came into the world, wasn’t it?

Then my mother and I settled in to pleasure one another in earnest, and I more or less stopped thinking about anything for the next few minutes.

There’s a strange, beautiful energy in the sixty-nine position. It’s a closed circuit of sexual ecstasy; a circle where rapture feeds upon itself. And that energy was even stronger, I’d long believed, when it was shared by lovers of the same gender. And when those same lovers are linked by the blood knot of kinship that joined my mother and I, one created from the womb of the other? It’s like no sexual experience you can imagine.

Oh my stars, what an incredible coming together it was for us both. Our bodies fitted together flawlessly, her heart and mine beat in perfect unison and when we came, I was so caught up in this melding of souls that for a crazy instant, it seemed as if I actually was my mother!

Afterward, we lay side by side, her fingers entwined with mine, moonlight spilling through the blinds to paint milky stripes on the wall and ceiling.

“I adore you, baby,” my mother whispered, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. “If I could write the beauty of your eyes, and in fresh numbers number all your graces, the age to come would say ‘This poet lies, such heavenly touches ne’er touched earthy faces.”

I resisted the urge to giggle — God, Mom really was an English Lit professor to the core. Still, there is something thrilling about a lover paying tribute to you with words from Shakespeare, so I crawled on top of my mother and rewarded her with a kiss.

After a long, lovely while we allowed our mouths to part, exchanging whispered good-nights before settling down to a deep, dreamless slumber.

Continue on to Part Three


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