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Surprises at the wedding.

I probed her mouth with my tongue and she yielded. I ground my cock against her and let my hands roam all over her body. She broke the kiss when I tried to cup her small, perky tits.

"I haven't been kissed like that in a long time," she said. "Kiss me again."

This time I found the zipper to her skirt, startling her. It slid slowly down her hips and legs to the floor, and I shoved my burning cock against her again.

Mom reached between us and gave it a cautious squeeze. "It's so hard, Charles." Mom surprised me by dropping to her knees and unbuckling my belt. She slowly opened my zipper and my pants fell to the floor. She ran her fingernail along the outline in my underwear, fascinated with it, watching it twitch with desire, desire for her. She squeezed my balls, and I began to wonder if she was going to change her mind.

I was too far gone to let that happen. I yanked my briefs down and there it was, eight inches of florid, torrid incestuous lust bobbing just under Mom's nose. I dug my fingers into her hair and maneuvered my cockhead just under her lips.

"I'm not sure I'm ready for that," she whispered.

"Play with it, Mom," I said in a hoarse whisper. "Get to know it, because it wants more than anything to know you."

"Do they still call this a hand job?" she asked as her fingers slid up and down my throbbing meat. As she stroked me with one hand, she was opening her white blouse with the other. I could feel my balls getting tighter when she suddenly stopped.

"Don't worry, Charles," she said, shirking the garment to the floor, and was now down to her lacy black bra and panties. She started masturbating me again, only now with a more intense effort.

Mom's world had now shrunk to her hand and the pulsating fiery cock in it. Her eyes shone with concentration as, she told me later, the erotic skills she'd acquired as a young girl, long in disuse, came back fresh and new. Her strokes slowed, her free hand came up to tickle and tease my balls, which were getting tighter by the stroke.

"Mom," I rasped, "I'm getting pretty close."

She just looked up at me, gave me a tight, conspiratorial smile, and went back to the job at hand. How I wanted to thrust my hips forward and get my dick between those thin, elegant lips!

I could wait no longer. My balls exploded, sending gobs and gobs of white, hot spunk into the air, raining on Mom's nose, cheekbones, hair, shoulders, cleavage. She laughed and playfully caught a drop on the tip of her tongue, which gave me an extra erotic thrill. Yet her hand never slowed as she milked my prong for every spurt it was worth. When I stopped spewing, she rubbed some of my jism into the skin above her chest, and then went into the small bathroom on the other side of Dad's desk.

As I heard the water running, I took the opportunity to remove the rest of my clothing. So did Mom. I stood there and stared, watching my mother reveal more and more of the slender, delicate body she had done so much to keep youthful. I hadn't seen her breasts since I was an infant. They were small, about the size of grapefruits, but her nipples were standing out like cherry pits, and that's when I knew she was sincere about this, that it wasn't just the Scotch making her behave this way. Soon Mom and I were standing naked before one another, hot and ready.

My cock was back at attention when we kissed now, our naked bodies writhing together with raw sexual hunger. I pushed Mom back onto the sofa and buried my face in her dark blonde bush.

"Charles!" she cried when my tongue slithered into her pussy. "No one's ever-- Uh! Uh!"

I replaced my tongue with two fingers and began to lick at her fully distended clit, which poked at me like a little red penis. My finger action and my tongue were having the desired effect: Mom cried out and mashed her thighs together, trapping my head and making it hard to breathe, but I continued licking away.

"Coming! Oh, God! Coming!"

Mom's thrashing slowed down after the third o

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