Combing Mom's Hair

I came home late for dinner, very late, almost dark. As soon as I got home, Dad started scolding me.

"Where have you been?" Before I could answer, he continued, "You said you were going to help Mom comb her hair today."

"Dad, I'm sorry," I said.

"I was driving around and forgot the time. Is Mom angry?"

"When she heard you coming home, she rushed to heat up your dinner. Your mom never gets angry with you, you know that."

I went into the kitchen. Mom was standing in front of the microwave, waiting for it to finish. Mom's right hand and hip were resting on the counter, facing me. When Mom saw me, she glanced amusedly at the living room and Dad, then looked back at me. Mom's robe was tightly tied around her waist; seeing that she was already getting ready for bed, I realized how late I was. I admired Mom's body, my gaze passing over the robe, along her thighs to the fluffy slippers she was wearing, then back again. I wasn't shy, nor did I mind that my mother could read my thoughts from my expression and actions.

"I'm sorry, Mom," I said calmly.

"No need to apologize to me," Mom replied.

"Was the driving experience alright?"

"No problem."

"Have you figured everything out?"

"Yes."

"Driving or long walks are very helpful for thinking."

"Yes."

Just then, the microwave beeped, and Mom waited until the fifth beep before opening it. Mom never opened the microwave before the beeping stopped, and she always got angry when I opened it before the beeping ended. She said the residual radiation was bad for my health. Mom handed me the plate, saying it was hot and I should sit down quickly. She poured me a large glass of milk and sat down at the other end of the table opposite me. While I ate, Mom just smiled and watched me, not disturbing me, until I was almost finished before speaking. Having

Mom beside me made my chest tighten and my skin extremely sensitive.

"So," Mom asked, her voice a little hoarse, "will you still braid my hair tonight?" I nodded quickly, afraid to make a sound, worried that my voice would turn into a strange creaking noise from nervousness.

"Yes," Mom smiled. Before standing up, Mom gently rubbed my ankle with her foot.

"Put the plates down and then go upstairs."

Mom stopped at the door, half-turning to look at my face, and said, "You'd better change into your pajamas first, because combing hair takes a long time."

I vaguely heard Mom tell Dad that she was going upstairs because I was going to braid her hair. He should lock the door and turn off the lights when he came up. I was already looking forward to touching Mom's hair and feeling her soft back.

I had to pour very hot water on my hands to keep my mind from being so focused on Mom. Finally, the cold water brought me back from my daze, and I walked past Dad upstairs. I rushed into my room and changed into my pajamas at record speed. The only thing I could do was not run to Mom's room.

Mom was waiting for me on the bench in front of her dressing table, the very same bench where she had sat when I first caressed her. I slowly approached her, noticing her hair cascading evenly down her back outside her robe. Reaching her side, I could see her robe was open in the front, the two lapels about ten centimeters apart, so her breasts weren't exposed, but my penis was already hard as a flagpole.

Mom wore a seductive, understanding smile; she understood that it was she who made me so sensitive. Lingering behind her, my eyes couldn't stay fixed on hers, my gaze following the seams of her robe, between her concealed breasts, to her slightly protruding belly, to her sexy, inviting navel, to her flesh-colored panties.

"Do you like your pussy?" Mom asked, a slight smirk playing on her lips, clearly teasing me.

Her panties had a subtle floral design on the front, but Mom knew that wasn't what I was focusing on right now.

"In a way, I do," I replied, teasing her in return.

"Are you a connoisseur?"

"Yes, in a way, I am."

Mom laughed even more heartily, and amidst the teasing, I felt a tense joy wash over me.

"Would you like to come closer and take a look?"

Mom spread her knees a little wider, revealing more of her panties.

"Of course I want to admire it. I think Mom's vulva is very rare, a collector's dream." "Really?" Mom exclaimed.

She spread her legs even wider, wide enough for me to see the sexy way Mom sat on the bench with her thighs spread.

"How do you feel?"

"Mom's vulva has a subtle, lewd quality. I don't know how to explain it clearly, but Mom's vulva has an irrepressible vitality."

I felt this sounded awkward, but Mom seemed to like it. Mom spread her legs even wider, her panties bulging forward, so clearly and accurately depicting the shape of the full mons pubis below, that a permanent memory was etched onto my retina, the word "vulva" permanently linked to this memory.

“This is the most vivid interpretation of a willow branch I’ve ever seen… Of course, I need to get closer to confirm it.”

“I’m not sure,” Mom said, her voice hesitant.

“My husband’s upstairs.”

“He certainly won’t mind,” I protested, “after all, we’re doing art.”

Mom laughed heartily. I was certain I’d struck gold and was about to bend down to collect my prize when a creak in the living room froze me—not what you think—I was completely terrified.

Mom’s knees snapped shut, and her robe was quickly pulled together and tied tightly. Before Dad went into the bathroom, I had a sudden inspiration and grabbed a handful of hair, starting to braid it into small strands.

“Bragging?” Dad asked, glancing at us on his way to the bathroom.

“Just getting started,” Mom said. “Are we bothering you?” I thought we probably were; let’s go downstairs.

“No need,” Dad dismissed my idea, disappearing into the bathroom and closing the door tightly, followed by the sound of urinating.

I nestled close to my mother's hair, my large penis teasingly pressed against her back.

"Let's go downstairs, Mom, that way Dad can sleep," I suggested.

"Dad can sleep anytime," Mom said calmly, stroking her hair.

Hearing Dad brushing his teeth, I actually started braiding Mom's hair. While I was working, Mom didn't say a word, not even looking at me. Only when the braid was almost finished did she glance at me, but just then Dad walked into the room, and Mom looked in his direction. Dad didn't care if I was there; he took off his clothes and put on his pajamas.

As I started braiding another small braid, Dad crawled under the covers, picked up a book, and started reading.

"Aren't you tired?" Mom asked.

"I'm alright," Dad replied without looking up.

Apart from the slight sounds of me twisting Mom's hair and Dad turning the pages of the book, there was no other sound.

"Did you take your medicine?"

A long pause.

"No."

"Cliff, you'd better take your medicine."

Dad didn't answer.

"Cliff?"

"I feel like I can fall asleep without medicine."

"But you'll keep waking me up by tossing and turning," Mom complained.

"No, I won't, if... well, I'll take one anyway." "You promise?"

"I promise."

Time passed in silence. Dad was reading, I was braiding my hair, and Mom sat calmly on the bench, not looking at us. I had already braided four long braids, and I thought I was finished, but Mom gestured to the shorter sections of hair on the sides of her head, so I started braiding some shorter braids on both sides of her head.

I moved closer to Mom, leaning against her head and shoulders, and I couldn't help but press my big cock against her back again, feeling her warm skin through her robe. Now Mom's hair was all braided.

Looking at Mom's side, I could see that the front of her robe was slightly torn, but not too much, not enough to fully reveal her charm. I glanced in the mirror and saw Mom looking at me.

She kept her eyes fixed on mine. Her left hand, the one furthest from Dad's, appeared in front of her robe, pulling it open just enough for the light to illuminate her bare left breast.

I pressed my penis harder against her back, and she arched her back, rubbing against me. I finished braiding the two braids on that side and moved them to the other. Her hand followed, pulling open her robe again, and I quickly saw her right breast. I saw her other nipple harden, and now I saw this one too. Dad turned another page, and I continued to press my penis against her back. I don't know how I managed not to moan loudly.

When I finished braiding the last braid, Mom stood up, because all the braids were done. Why didn't she come downstairs? She walked around the bench, past the bed, and went to the bathroom. I went out, but I turned and walked out of the bedroom.

"Goodnight," I said to Mom and Dad.

"Goodnight, son," Dad replied.

"Where are you going?" Mom asked. "You haven't finished your work yet." "Not finished?" I asked hesitantly.

"No," Mom said, holding out her hand to me. "You need to put some oil on my hair so it will be soft and shiny." Mom waved her hand impatiently. "Go on." Mom led me into the bathroom, leaving the door open so I could see Dad in the mirror. Mom handed me a squeeze bottle.

"Here," Mom said, "put some oil on my hair."

I squeezed a little clear oil into my palm.

"Don't squeeze out too much," Mom said.

I ran my hand over Mom's braids, looking at the door nervously. The sound of turning pages calmed me down. I leaned forward, pressing my hard penis against Mom's crotch.

"Like this," Mom said loudly, "Apply it properly."

I obediently applied the oil to Mom's hair, while simultaneously rubbing my penis up and down against Mom's soft back. I was engrossed in braiding Mom's third braid when I realized I hadn't heard Dad turn pages in a book for a while. I immediately started to panic.

Defying the laws of physics, my heart was already shrouded in darkness before the lights went out.

"Did you take your medicine?" Mom asked loudly, her calm voice masking the impending danger.

"No," came the voice that seemed to come from under the pillow, or at least under the covers.

Mom didn't answer, and I continued braiding her hair, motionless. Two minutes passed. My penis couldn't take it anymore and started thrusting forward between Mom's buttocks, quickly rubbing with all my might.

Mom was pushed forward by my thrusts, so she gripped the edge of the bar to steady herself.

I pulled her two long braids with one hand, pulling her head back so her face was up, her eyes fixed on me.

I made a face, pulled hard on Mom's braids, and thrust my penis into her buttocks. Mom smiled silently, her face flushed, her eyes burning with excitement. I excitedly grabbed her braid and thrust into her lower body with rapid, forceful strokes.

I stopped, catching my breath. I realized I was captivated. I glanced at the door and the dark bedroom opposite, desperately trying to control my thoughts, or pretending I could, but when I looked back into Mom's eyes in the mirror, I lost myself again.

Mom was loving me with her buttocks. Her buttocks softened, relaxed, open, welcoming me. My penis was enveloped by her buttocks, nestled between them. Mom's passion made my penis bigger and harder. I released Mom's hair, grabbed the collar of her robe, and ripped it open, revealing her naked breasts.

I knew that if I held Mom's breasts, I would lose myself, but Mom's eyes pleaded with me to do so. When my mother's nipple pricked my palm, I couldn't help but want to scream. I gripped her nipple tightly, biting into the crook of her neck, my body arching against her buttocks. I adjusted my hand position, letting her long nipple protrude from the circle between my thumb and forefinger.

I looked up and noticed the deep teeth marks I had made on her neck, and I was surprised that she hadn't cried out. I looked in the mirror; the way her nipple tried to escape my clutches was amazing. Her hand no longer gripped the bar counter, but instead grabbed mine, trying to pull it away. I complied, letting her pull my hand down and releasing her nipple, which immediately sprang back to her chest.

She didn't let go. Instead, she pulled my hand to the lapel of her robe, placing it near her neck, watching me in the mirror the whole time. Then she released my hand and gripped the bar counter again.

I was confused. What did my mother want me to do? She looked at me expectantly in the mirror. I finally realized what was happening. I pulled open my mother's robe, draped it over her shoulders, leaving her completely naked from the front, and then threw the robe on the floor. My mother stood naked in front of me, and I pressed myself against her back, my large penis pressed tightly against her through my robe.

My father was lying on the bed in the next room, and he hadn't taken his medication. This was just like that with my mother—it was insane. I tried desperately to hear my father's snoring, but I couldn't. Please, please, I thought, just go to sleep!

I listened again, but still no sound.

I looked down at my mother's flawless back, at her perfect skin, the graceful curve of her buttocks forming the hollow at the base of her spine. Only the cotton fabric of my robe marred this beautiful view. I stepped back, admiring my mother's beautiful bare buttocks and her long, shapely legs.

I stared blankly at my mother's legs, like a sleepwalker, pulling my robe over my hard penis, down to my feet, and then kicking it aside. I reached out and cupped my mother's adorable bottom in my hands, feeling its texture and weight, gently squeezing it, drawing maximum pleasure from her forbidden skin. Because I had applied oil to her braids, the residual grease on my hands allowed them to glide lightly across her bottom. I loved the curves of her body and the elasticity and resistance I felt as my palms slid across it, but I also enjoyed the way she parted her bottom wider to facilitate the exploration of my fingers—a sign of her submission.

I was completely oblivious to what was happening to Dad in the other room. I went over and pressed my huge cock between Mom's buttocks. Mom was smiling in the mirror. I started searching, poking and prodding wildly for her opening, each passing second driving me wilder.

I saw Mom's lips pursed in the mirror.

"Hiss hiss hiss..."

I calmed down. Mom's buttocks were wiggling, but I couldn't hear anything. I leaned closer to Mom, my face pressed against hers.

"Lick me."

I looked into Mom's eyes in the mirror. Mom nodded and smiled.

I slid my head down from Mom's back, licking all the way to her buttocks, then I knelt down. I gently pressed my knees against hers, and Mom obediently spread her legs. Mom stretched her buttocks towards me, yearning for my favor. I leaned forward, pressing my face against Mom's buttocks, sticking out my tongue, searching for the source of that musky scent filling my nostrils. I found it.

I started licking between my mother's buttocks, my tongue slipping into the cleft. I twisted my tongue in circles, sliding it between her anus and vagina, licking her anus with its distinctive scent. You should see how she wriggles her buttocks on my face; she loves it!

I wrapped my arms around her thighs, lifting her up so her buttocks were level with my face. Now she was almost lying flat on the bar, her head resting on her crossed arms, her breasts swaying back and forth on the edge. I buried my face deep in her buttocks again.

I licked and licked, shoving my tongue inside her body, wildly thrusting and bumping around in her vagina, then pulling my tongue back, sliding it to her anus, quickly licking it, then returning to lick her vagina. My fingers slipped inside my mother's thighs until the tips touched her labia. I gently parted them, allowing my tongue to penetrate deeper into her vagina.

I wiggled my penis until her juices flowed over my tongue and probing fingers.

Her clitoris began to tremble involuntarily, my tongue writhing like a snake. Her love juices flowed onto my tongue and the fingers that had parted her labia, and her buttocks began to tremble against my face.

As her orgasm subsided, I withdrew my tongue, dragging it one last time from her vagina to her buttocks, giving it a final lick as a farewell. But at the last second, I changed my mind, immediately licking the folds of flesh on her anus with the tip of my tongue and forcing my tongue through her sphincter.

And then, I climaxed. Her buttocks trembled violently, her thighs quivering in my arms, her legs tense, her toes jutting out as if trying to touch the ground. I could feel her vagina leaking fluid again, and she trembled as she reached another, even more intense orgasm, letting out a cry.

I was stunned. I relaxed my arms, letting Mom's feet touch the floor. As her orgasm subsided, only her toes supported her trembling legs as she leaned against the bathroom counter. I turned my face towards the door, waiting for Dad to burst in.

After a while, Dad didn't come in. I struggled to my feet and waited a little longer, but Dad still didn't come. Then I heard a familiar sound—his snoring. I listened intently to see if it was really snoring. Was I scaring myself?

Yes, it was Dad's snoring, even more steady and calm than usual.

Mom was still panting on the counter, trying her best to breathe steadily. I turned around, pulled the thick bath mat from the edge of the tub, laid it on the floor, and then grabbed Mom's waist, gently pulling her off the counter. Mom complied without hesitation. I had Mom lie on her side, her legs bent. I pushed against the back of her right thigh, opening her legs and slightly arching her abdomen.

I wrapped my arms around my mother's buttocks, reaching down to cup her wet vulva. Then I pulled her up, turning her around, and placed my knees between her legs, guiding my hard cock into her warm, moist cunt.

I slid into her body, partly thrusting forward and partly pulling her back, pressing her against my penis. I wasted no time, covering her buttocks and genitals with one hand and grabbing a long braid with the other to prevent her from slipping away, then began to fuck her. I was fucking my mother on the bathroom floor, my father sleeping in the bed not far from us. Fuck, it was fucking wild.

I pounded into my mother, my ass slapping against hers with a loud cracking sound. I wasn't worried about the noise; I was sure my father wouldn't wake up even without his medication. I wanted to fuck my mother, and I was fucking my mother right now.

I made her body tremble on the mat, thrusting in and out, each thrust making her tremble.

I thrust forcefully into my mother, feeling my long penis fully penetrate her vagina. Each deep thrust sent shivers through the folds of her vagina, and I savored the soft, wet sensation. Each time, I entered her deeply, gripping her tightly, making it impossible for her to escape my penetration. My mother was also thrusting into me, her vagina clenching and releasing, the inner walls tightly enveloping my deeply inserted penis. I slithered in like a snake, then turned, her vagina rejecting my intrusion, only to immediately draw my penis back into her.

My mother arched her back and turned her hips towards me, wanting me to thrust into her even harder. She turned her head to look at me, her wild eyes telling me she needed more.

Her intense passion and desire made me close to ejaculation. I wanted to fuck her harder, but I couldn't hold back; my semen sprayed inside her, filling her vagina. I collapsed weakly onto my mother.

"You're mine, Mom, you belong to me," I gasped, my hips trembling as I ejaculated. I lay on top of Mom until the last spurt of semen shot into her vagina.

Mom lay flat on the floor, legs spread, my large penis still deeply inserted into her vagina. As I finished ejaculating and my body spasmed, Mom pushed me back, turned to one side, and then pulled away… She stood facing the sink, running the water. I lay on my back, watching Mom soak a towel, wash her genitals, then grab a hand towel to dry herself. Mom bent down and kissed my cheek, caressing it with her hand, then stood up and went into the bedroom. I heard Mom slip under the covers, and then the room was silent except for Dad's soft snoring.

I stood up, put on my pajamas, turned off the bathroom light, and walked through the darkness back to my room.

[The End]

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