Not a Word Spoken

Not a Word Spoken

This is the story of me and my mom it happened when I was fifteen. My mom and I lived alone in a little one bedroom apartment that we were forced by circumstance to move into nine months ago. My dad had abandoned us two years before to go live with a girl half his age. A year ago he had suddenly stopped sending money, changed his job and phone number and moved to another town, we later found out. So we had no choice but to move into a smaller place in keeping with mom’s earnings. But three months ago she had lost her job, and was down to just a few dollars in savings.
Mom let herself into the house using her key. This was unusual once I was home; she loved to have me open the door and greet her with a smile. I could guess by her slumped shoulder and loud sigh as she closed the door that things did not go well with her job hunt. My guess was confirmed when she looked at me with sad watery eyes and shook her head from side to side in the negative. She hurried past me and headed for the bedroom, without saying a word.
Mom is a beautiful, thirty-six year old light brown skin, black woman, with shoulder length wavy brown hair, evidence of the trace of Indian ancestry in her blood. She is five foot six, one hundred and fifty pounds of smooth, shapely woman flesh; a big firm ass and full, round breasts that stood up and out proudly on their own; she occasionally went bra less despite her age. After about ten minutes had elapsed and she hadn’t come out I got up and went to check on her.
She was sitting on the edge of her bed bent over, weeping into her hands. She was clad only in flesh color bra and pink nylon bikini panties. She had obviously started to change into lighter clothes or maybe preparing for a bath when she broke down. Seeing her like that I started to turn away, but the mournful weeping stopped me in my tracks and I stepped forward and stood in front of her. Because of the cramped conditions of our home, we had beds at opposite sides of the room, I had often got glimpses of her in various stages of undress, a few times bra less and in panties only, but never completely naked and although I’ve always been aware of and admired her beautiful body, it was never in a sexual way in spite of having on a couple of occasions had dreams of lying naked and kissing and fondling her all over her sexy body. Dreams that left me embarrassed and ashamed instead of titillated. In one of those dreams I’d started entering her pussy with my cock when I suddenly ejaculated. I woke up trembling and jerking from a mighty orgasm. But as I stood above her now looking down at the shaking fleshy woman and offered a clear view into the enticing crack of her plump ass, I felt a strange, unwanted glow take over my entire body and an even more unwanted stirring in my young virgin crotch. She felt my presence and rose up, resting her hands on her lush thighs as she looked up at me with trembling lips and overflowing eyes. She shook her head in a manner that I interpreted as an apology. At the sight of her sorrowful face my heart broke and I felt water gush out of my eyes. She stretched out her hands and pulled me to her, burying her face in my midsection just above my crotch. Her weeping, bobbing face in that region of my body started something that I knew could be dangerous. I knew fully well the force and rigidity my young six inch cock packed when at full mast; I couldn’t let that happen. I pulled away gently, and sat down next to her, our thighs touching. She leaned into me and I put one arm around her shoulder while I stroked her wet cheeks with the other hand.
We sat there crying together, mother and son, she weeping uncontrollably, me sniffling. Both of her hands were in my lap, one bracing against my cock which despite my reluctance had grown to a hardness that was intent on asking questions of the beautiful woman intruding into its territory. Every time it looked like she would stop, out would come a new outburst of tears. I stroked her cheeks, her neck and her back and run my hand through her hair giving her little kisses on her face every couple of minutes as she rubbed my back and squeezed my side as she wept, my now rampant cock trying to lift the elbow resting on it.
We remained like that for about fifteen minutes until she suddenly straightened up then leaned back onto the bed pulling me down on top of her soft shaking body. She brought both of her legs onto the bed and I stretched out on top of her, my hard cock pressing down into her mid-section. We were about the same height, and a perfect fit ensued. She rubbed my head and caressed my bare back; I was wearing only loose exercise trunks. She was by now only sobbing softly. As I lay on top of my mom’s soft sobbing body, my rigid cock pulsing against her, the thought occurred to me that I was going to become a man today; I wanted to become a man today, in that most important of ways: having my cock enter the pussy of a woman, and the feeling was good. It did not matter that the woman was my mother, that the pussy I wanted to enter was the pussy that I had come out of. I felt myself deliberately pressing down my cock onto the lovely woman lying under me. I lowered my face and kissed her forehead then her cheeks, then her nose, and finally softly on her lips.