My Mother’s Hot Cunt

For as long as I can remember, Mum and I have always lived on our farm. I do all the hard chores for her. I can’t even remember my Father, but I can still clearly remember the first time I ever had the chance to spy on my Mother. She was in the bathroom, sitting on the toilet, with her dress up around her waist. There was no pubic hair visible. I found out much later that she had always shaved.
I didn’t make a noise, I just stood there staring at my Mother there like any healthy pubescent fourteen year old boy would do, when he was spying on any grown woman, Mother or not. Mum, was and still is a very beautiful woman. She is a better mate than any of my friends. I can say or do almost anything to her.
It all started when I was in bed playing with my erect cock under the blankets, when Mum came into my room. I quickly stopped all the motions that I had been making with my cock. I wasn’t quite quick enough in stopping. “You shouldn’t have to do that, son,” She said, “We should be living closer to town, and then you’d have other friends around you.”
“Oh! It’s alright, Mum,” I said, “I can get by out here and besides I like it here.”
I have always loved my Mother, very dearly and I’d do anything for her, if she asked me. I had stolen a pair of her sheer knickers that I kept hidden in my room. I quite often either wore them or wrapped them around my cock when I was jacking off. Fantasizing about her being naked under me. Mum didn’t know about my fantasies and I wasn’t about to tell her about them, either.
Mum, had started to lavish small loving duties onto me, just after I turned fourteen and she had found out that I was getting erections. She didn’t know how well developed my cock and balls were. Whenever I jacked off I always stopped just short of ejaculation, so I didn’t know what coming was like. Mum started coming into my bedroom more often and her clothing began to get more skimpy every time. Then one morning when she came in. I could tell that she didn’t have much on under her housecoat, I couldn’t see any thing. These visits became more frequent, but they never really came to anything either.
Then one day the inevitable happened, I got to the stage where I needed sexual release. I couldn’t very well tell Mum that I wanted to fuck her, even though I really did want to. It was around that time that Mum started wearing shorts and low cut blouses more often; I soon noticed that she was sitting more carelessly when she was wearing shorts; that she bent over more often when she was near me to pick up things, revealing a lot of ass from the rear view or a view of her tits down her blouse from the front. They were all just the little things, but they added up to the fact that I was seeing a lot more of Mum than I should have been seeing. I was certainly enjoying it.
One day Mum was wearing a short golf skirt, a style of garment that she had never worn before that spring.