Marcelle and Charles Ch. 01

My breath caught. My back wanted to arch. My hips wanted to thrust. In my head it felt like my body was literally, internally, making a 'Ziiiiinnnnnnngggggg!' noise as my eyes rolled up and crossed as cum blasted down my pants leg!

"Oh my fucking god!" I gasped in a belated whispered sigh as soon as I came down from the half-gallon multi-orgasmic virgin climax that had just shot down my leg.

I was panting. I was so—SO!—embarrassed!

None of it seemed to phase mom at all. She was still in the throes of whatever dream she was dreaming. She was moaning and purring as she kissed me. Her hand never stopped pumping my dick, and indeed, it never went flaccid. Then, suddenly, she was moving like a wild cat!

She pushed herself up and supported herself on the hand that had been tangled in my hair. She looked down at me and for the first time, I saw her face. Her eyes were open. They were open! But, as it was, her mouth moved but made no sound and I realized that her usually intelligent brown eyes were dull and glazed. She was still asleep. Still dreaming.

Then, she pushed and pulled at my dick until at last, she had pushed my underwear down enough to pull out my dick. She threw her leg over me before I could make any sound of protest at what was about to happen, and straddled my hips. She made a purring sound, and then she pointed my dick up and sat down on it!

It happened so fast that I couldn't breathe. I couldn't speak. I couldn't do anything!

One second she was beside me. The next she was up above me. And the next my dick was sliding between the folds of her labia. The lips of her soft wet pussy. I hadn't even seen her pussy yet! And now, my dick was parting them and sliding into her most sacred of places. Up the sheath of her tight, undulating, vagina!

Mom moaned loudly as she sank down my length. She growled like a feral cat in heat. And then, she put both her hands down on my chest and started grinding her pussy on me. Pumping my dick back and forth inside her so fast and so hard that she left only the very tip inside on her upthrust and then slammed back down so that her ass slapped my balls. She went fast and furiously. She pivoted her hips this way and that so that I stretched out her walls and hit her every sensitive nerve. She meowed and howled. Hummed and purred. And moaned wantonly!

Despite cumming just seconds before, my body revved up with every pump of mom's pussy on my dick, and I think I might have lasted a minute before I started basting her womb with my batter all over again. It was like mom knew I was cumming inside her, and she loved it! She moaned with every shot but never slowed down. If anything she pounded my dick inside her even harder!

I came and I came and I came. My eyes rolled in my head. I wanted to stop mom. I wanted to scream that she should stop. What would she do if I got her pregnant? But, if she woke up then she would see what we, what she, was doing to me and she might think that it was me doing it to her. No! No, I could wake her up. If she slept through all of this, then I will never ever tell her what happened today!

That second time I came my hips did start thrusting up to meet mom's every copious collision. And, to my surprise, it enhanced the pleasure I felt in fucking, and being fucked by my mother.

I lasted five minutes before I came again inside mom. At this point, she was so full of my sperm that l could feel my cum dribbling out of her and onto me. We made wet, slurpy, slapping sounds as I continued to pump climax inside her, and then, I peaked, and all the euphoria washed away. My body relaxed and mom suddenly slowed her pounding pace and thrust my dick ultra-deep inside. She only rocked now, rotating this way and that as she mumbled to herself.

Reality came back to me, and what I had just done—what I was still doing—settled on me along with mom's weight. I could feel my dick hitting something both weirdly hard and soft at the very top of her vagina. Everytime I hit it, mom gasped. Then she was leaning forward, grinding her clit on my pelvis while my dick rubbed her vulva, and my head stretched her vaginal wall and rubbed against her opening and those nerves between her vagina and rectum. Mom howled as she orgasmed and I gasped as my dick bent with the weight of her body pressing me against all her most sensitive spots. I couldn't believe it. I had just cum, and yet, I came again!

I came and I came and I came!

Three massive orgasmic explosions. I had just inseminated my mother three times, dumping what felt like a pint—no a liter—NO!—a gallon of young virile cum directly inside my mother's womb!

I gasped for breath.

Mom, on the other hand, collapsed onto my chest. She nuzzled me, still mumbling incoherently, and laid there with her knees up just outside of her shoulders and hunched into me as my dick pulsed and spurted the last dregs of my cum inside her. Then, finally, my dick wilted—

a little bit.

Mom settled into a very deep sleep. She was no longer dreaming, or whatever had just happened. She smiled faintly, and her breathing seemed easier. Deeper somehow. More relaxed. Her complexion seemed better too, like she had just taken a luxuriant bath, or just gotten a massage. She almost seemed to glow.

I looked over at the alarm clock and it read 4:45 pm. My brain tried but couldn't compute. All of that. Everything that had just happened. It had only taken 15 minutes to turn my world upside down!

Mom slept on top of me for fifteen minutes and probably would have stayed that way until she woke up if I hadn't started feeling claustrophobic. I turned on my side and mom mumbled as she slid off my chest and curled up in front of me. My dick slid out of her, and slowly, oh so slowly, I pulled away from her and rolled away leaving her alone on the bed. I pulled my body pillow out and pushed it towards her. She accepted the surrogate and I turned and wobbled out of my room and made my way to the bathroom.

The first thing I did was pull off my clothes. All of them. Then, I sat on the toilet and started cleaning up. It took a while. I was also surprised that I smelled. I smelled of cum and lubrication. It wasn't offensive. It was actually kind of nice. It smelled like mom and me. Separate and mixed together. And, as I said, it wasn't offensive, but it was pungent.

I finished cleaning up, and then I thought about mom. If she woke up and found herself covered in sperm and smelling of sex, well, I imagine it wouldn't be good. There would definitely be a lot of questions, and most likely, no more cuddling. So, grabbing a roll of toilet paper, I went back to my room. Mom was sound asleep, thank god!

I moved to the bed and oh so gently rolled up a couple of my pillows and moved them under her uppermost thigh when I lifted it. Fuck, her leg was heavy when she was asleep!

Then, I positioned myself so that I could actually see mom's pussy. It was beautiful. She had thick, meaty outer labia and dainty inner labia. She had removed her pubes from around her pussy by some method, but it left her skin silky smooth, and she had had everything removed from her pubic mound as well except for a 1-inch wide by 3-inch long Brazilian landing strip. Of that small cultivated thatch of pubes, I saw that they were pure silver. As for mom's pussy, her fat outer pussy-lips were the same olive color as the rest of her skin, there was only a faint pinkishness along the edges of her labial slit. Finally, her vulva and dainty inner labia were a healthy, moist, deep rosy-pink color.

With gentle strokes, I cleaned my cum, and hers, from her inner thighs, her pussy, and from between her ass-cheeks. Then, I cleaned her pubic mound and her cum-matted pubes. Once I was done, I pulled my pillows from beneath her thigh and gently arranged her nightgown. Finally, I grabbed a throw blanket from the bottom of the bed and covered mom up.

Turning away, I went to my dresser and pulled out fresh jeans and underwear. I pulled them on and then I headed to the kitchen to make dinner. I was no cook, so I pulled out butter, sourdough bread, cheese, and a large can of tomato soup.

I made four tomato sandwiches and heated the tomato soup to a nice simmer. I made our dishes, set them on the table, and then went back to my room.

Mom was still asleep. Good!

Walking over, I sat on the bed and gently started shaking mom as I called her name. She slowly woke up and stretched like she had been sleeping for days. She smiled up at me and I returned it.

"Good evening sleepy head," I said in a warm purr.

"Mmm!" Mom moaned as she stretched so far that her breasts popped right out the top of her nightgown!

"Oh! Shoot!" She gasped as she whipped her arm down and covered herself as she righted her nightgown, "My goodness! These girls! They have a mind of their own sometimes. I'm sorry about that son. I know no boy wants to see his old mom's boobs just come bouncing out to say high."

"Mom!" I cried in an embarrassed voice, "Geez! Don't worry about it. I'll just pretend nothing happened, but you should know you have fantastic breasts!"

"Oh—Oh!" Marcelle said her tone understanding and then rising with shock as she realized her son thought she had fantastic tits.

Changing the subject, I said, "By the way, we fell asleep and slept most of the afternoon away. I woke up first so I made us dinner."

"Oh, Charles! Thank you so much for that," Marcelle purred as she let me help her out of his bed.

As she stood a shiver ran up her spine and she felt a little faint. She leaned into me until the wave of delirium passed. Then she stretched again and said, "Boy, Charles, I think I should sleep with you more often. I feel like I slept a week straight. I feel more rested than I ever have!"

I opened my mouth to reply but found myself speechless, and so, I led her to the kitchen. She held my arm like we were on a date. I pulled out her chair for her, and then we sat down and ate.

We ate, and all the while mom made yummy sounds. It was almost comical.

"This is so scrumptious," She cooed with her mouth still half full of food.

"I'm glad you like it. It's just the same old grilled cheese sandwiches I always make when it is my turn to make dinner," I said, somewhat disbelieving she was really moved by the meager meal.

"I don't know," She said as she shook her head, "It's like I was in a haze, and now everything is bright and colorful. I feel so... energized!"

'Uh—oh' Was what I thought. What I said was, "Huh, well, maybe we should sleep together more often, then..."

As soon as I said it I wanted to slap my forehead.

Mom laughed at my anguished face and decided to tease me further, "Is the idea of sleeping with your old mom such a horrible idea?"

I nearly choked on my soup as what we had just done flashed through my memory. Then, I thought of all my possible answers, and they either seemed hurtful or perverse. To answer her question correctly I had to strike a perfect balance of realistic, humorous, and perverted.

First, I started by finishing my bowl of tomato soup. Then, I looked up and met mom's eyes. My gray-green meeting her brown. Then, I very ostentatiously leered at her, up and then down.

For sake of performance, mom feigned a gasp of outraged reproof.

Then, I met her eyes again and answered, "Mom, you are the most beautiful woman I know. You're everything this poor boy wants in the woman he hopes to marry one day. So, should we sleep together regularly? Well, mom, you are a woman first and foremost and I am only a young, inexperienced stallion. Who's to say what might happen in the dark lonely hours of the night when we are both asleep and all our bodies know is, that is a man in my bed and that is a woman in bed with me. Just saying, mom, I could be amazing!"

Marcelle looked me up and down. Her silver eyebrows had raised higher and higher with every word, and then, by the end, she couldn't help the great belly laugh that burst from her and hand her doubling over the table. She slapped the table in her gaiety. She laughed harder than she had in years, only...

When she finally looked up she saw real hurt flash across my eyes before I was able to smother it and return a sly smirk. She brought her mirth under control, and said, "That was the best comeback ever!"

She continued to chuckle as she continued, disparaging the idea, "Like we would ever have sex! My god, you're my son. I think I would know even in my sleep that much! No, I don't think that could ever happen. Certainly not on purpose, and not by accident!"

She got up then and gathered up the plates and bowls. She walked over and started washing them as she added, "No, I am too hard a sleeper. Once I'm asleep I don't move..."

There seemed to be a note of wistfulness to her voice this time. I just tried to control my expression as I thought, 'Oh mom, if you only knew that you've already attacked me and had sex with me, your son, and I came inside you three times!'

Lost in my thoughts, I didn't hear mom call my name until she took my hand.

"Charles," She said again.

"Yes, mom," I answered.

"Come on," She said as she pulled me out of my seat and led me to the living room.

She guided me to the couch and left me to sit while she put on some music. Soft and low before returning and sitting down next to me.

"So," She said, "Tell me what happened today that got you so upset that you skipped, what, three classes."

I knew she would relent until I told her. So, I sighed, and then, I began, "I confessed my feelings to Madison today. I asked her to go out with me. To be my girlfriend."

Mom was silent for a long time. So long that I looked up from playing with my fingers and saw, to my surprise, jealousy! She smothered it quickly, so quickly in fact that I was left wondering if I had really seen it.

Still, it was with a grim motherly voice that she said, "I take it she turned you down."

Upset by the memory, I failed to read her body language as I nodded.

Marcelle smirked, but kept her tone and temper grim as she asked, "What was her reason?"

"She said her dad won't allow her to date while she's in school," I said.

Mom was silent for a minute, then said, "Well, that is just good parenting. As a matter of fact, son, I don't want you to date either. Not in school, not in college, and not afterwards either. You're my man. You're all I need, and I am all you need. It's just you and me, son. If you leave, then I will have no one. So, you have to wait to date until I have found a husband!"

"Wait! What?" I gasped.

"You heard me," She purred, then enunciated and drew out every word slowly for me, "You... can... never... date... other... girls. I... am... all... the... woman... you... will... ever... need!"

It sounded so laughable. I even cough a single guffaw at the absurdity. But, as I searched mom's eyes I realized, she was only half joking. I fell silent.

A moment of silence passed between us with our eyes locked, and then I said, "You're not joking, are you?"

She only smiled.

"Mom," I began, trying to find and use my most reasonable voice, "That is impossible. I have to leave at some point. Surely you want me to find a girl, get married, and give you some grandbabies at some point. Besides, what about you? Don't you want to get remarried?"

Marcelle waved the questions off with a hand and changed the subject back to me, "So, asking Madison to be your girlfriend was a big deal for you. I know you've liked her for a while now. Also, I can see that her turning you down hurt you a great deal. But, not dating you because of her dad is a good reason. It also means she's not dating anyone else. So, what got you so bent out of shape that you decided to ditch school?"

I was put off. I wanted her to answer my questions, but she obviously wasn't going to say anymore until I answered her first. So, I answered her, "She says there's another guy that she promised to go out with when she can finally date. Anyway, as great as she is, this guy would have to be a complete moron to mess it up with her. So, basically, she is as good as married to him. I—I was too late. And to top it all I'm sure everyone in school knows now that I asked Madison out and she rejected me..."

"Oh son," Mom sighed, her tone empathetic to my pain, "Listen, don't be embarrassed that you asked a girl out. Even if she is the most popular girl there. At least you gave it a shot. That is so courageous. And, so what, she turned you down. There are a billion more girls out there to meet and millions more being born everyday. High school only lasts four years, and then your whole life will change. What seems so important now will seem frivolous, childish even, in only a few more months. And besides, you already said I am the most beautiful woman you know, and you have my love. What else do you need?"

"Sex mom," I answered dryly, "I need sex. I want to feel a woman pressed up against my body. I want to come home and go to bed with her every night. I want to date, be boyfriend and girlfriend, and then I want to marry her. I want to take her out on dates. Go to restaurants and out to the movies. Go on a beach vacation, and see her in a micro-thong and g-string bikinis..."

I kind of ran out of steam after that. Mom was smiling at me. A weird 'I understand how you feel' 'I got your back' sort of smile. Then, she came over and hugged me again, crushing her breasts against me and laughing as I wiggled to break free of her.

Once I got free and stood up, it was only to have her follow me and hug me again as she purred, "Don't I give you all of that? I mean, except for the sex. That wouldn't be appropriate, but everything else, sure! Hell! I'll even try on one of those 'micro thongs and g-strings' and let you ogle your old, fat, out of shape, mom!"

"You can even say I'm your girlfriend," She added belatedly.

I laughed. Part of me wanted to say, 'You just had sex with me too, and it was awesome!' but I didn't. What I did say was, "Mom, I love you..."

"I love you too, son," She returned immediately.

"Mom," I said in a quieter, but firmer voice as I took her shoulders and held her away from me so that I could look into her eyes, "What's going on with you? You're acting strange. You've always been cuddly. Clingy even, at times, and I adore it, most of the time, but you seem especially cuddlesome lately, even suggestive and sensuous..."

Marcelle grew quiet. Very quiet.

The silence stretched as she stepped back, took my hands, and led me to the couch. We sat down again, and she heaved a heavy sigh as she shook her head and fiddled with her nails.

"I've been dating again, son," She said suddenly, then sighed again, "Brenda, from work, we were talking and she thinks it's high time I started dating again. I agreed. After all, you're growing up. Soon you'll be wanting to go to college. Date. Marry. Soon you'll be gone and only come back to visit on holidays. So, I agreed with Brenda. I should start dating again. After all, I did my job these last eighteen years. I raised a good boy that has turned into the best man I know..."

Marcelle's story fell away as she looked up and smiled at me. She leaned forward and caressed my cheek. The depths of her emotions, her love for me, her pride in me, was fathomless. She sniffled as she felt her emotions start to overwhelm her and sat back.

"Anyway," She continued, "Brenda set me up on a dating app. Sender. Bender. Something like that."

"Oh my god," I whispered.

Marcelle only nodded.

"Mom, I don't know about dating," I said, "But everyone knows that app is a hookup app."

"What?!" Mom gasped, "It is?"

She fumed for a moment as she grumbled something about Brenda, then she sighed and said, "Well, that certainly explains my dates!"

"I bet," I said, concern thick in my voice, "Please tell me you didn't fuck them."