mom has a bad back. Sometimes the pain's so bad she can hardly
walk around. She has to take muscle relaxants and pain pills.
gave her massages for a while, though, and that helped. First
I'd just rub her neck and shoulders while she sat in a chair.
This would usually be before she was going to bed, to help her
sleep. She'd pin her hair up to get it out of the way and then
pull her robe and nightgown down over the shoulders. I'd dig into
those tense muscles with my fingers and thumbs, sometimes even
use my knuckles. Her skin was tender, so we used cream.
liked it, said it helped, and I liked making her feel better.
It always pained me to see her in pain. I volunteered to do her
first she was reluctant and embarrassed but finally agreed --
anything for relief. She changed clothes in the bathroom and came
out in her robe. "Don't look," she said. "Close
did, and after a few seconds she said, "OK." She was
lying face down on the couch wearing pajama bottoms and a bra.
She gave me a flustered smile that said this is a bit daring and
unusual but we're being proper about it.
tried massaging her around the bra, but that just didn't work.
The straps totally interfered with the strokes and got soaked
with cream in the process. I told her the bra would have to go.
After a pause she said, "Close your eyes again."
got exasperated and said, "Mom, you're lying on your front.
I can't see anything."
have to sit up to unhook it."
can unhook it."
did you learn to do that?"
if that's so old." With a long-suffering sigh she pressed
down onto the couch to prevent anything from showing, then said,
"OK ... just undo it ... let the straps lie on the side."
her whole back free I could really massage her, get into those
long strokes that loosen the tension. She was groaning with contentment.
I was getting turned on by touching her and seeing her skin ripple
under my hands. I told myself, You're a weirdo, getting a hard-on
for your mom. That's not what's supposed to happen. But whether
it was supposed to happen or not, it was definitely happening
... and I liked it. As she relaxed, I could see the sides of her
breasts. I wanted to see more. After the massage, though, she
sent me away so she could sit up and "get decent."
night I dreamed mom and I were on a boat that was gradually filling
up with water. It was a rubber boat ... or maybe a water bed.
I asked her what I should do and she said, "Have a drink."
Her breasts were hanging over the edge. When I touched them, I
morning mom said she'd slept better, with less pain, so we decided
to have another massage that night. We agreed the couch wasn't
ideal. It was too short, and the slope was awkward. When I said
a bed would be better, she gave me a look that said don't get
fresh with your mother.
evening, though, she turned down her bed and said we'd give it
a try. She made me wait in the hall until she was ready and called
me in. She was lying face down on the sheet wearing only pajama
pants with her robe folded neatly beside her along with an open
jar of skin cream. She had her head turned away from me.
she's making such a big deal of it, she must be thinking about
it, I thought. That made me think about it all the more, wondering
what was on the other side of that bad back as I massaged it.
I'd got a couple of peeks at her boobs before -- stepping out
of the shower and changing to go swimming. She'd been embarrassed
and covered them up right away. They were big and nice, and I
wanted to see more. I'd been just a kid then -- now I'd be able
to appreciate them better. I also wondered what was on the other
side of her pajama bottoms. Those parts I'd never seen.
dad had moved out about a year ago. Their fights had been terrible
at the end. Once he yelled at her, "Uptight frigid bitch!"
and she cried. I wanted to hit him for saying that, but I wondered
what was behind it. She wasn't exactly Ms. Free & Easy.
now as I was rubbing her back, she seemed very sensual. She was
breathing deeply, almost purring. I could tell which strokes she
liked by the different sounds she made, then I'd do more of those.
"Do it there," she'd say, or, "Deeper in there
... harder." I liked pleasing her.
massages got to be a routine with us. She'd have a few drinks
after dinner while we watched TV, then about ten o'clock we'd
go into her room together.
got a book out of the library to learn to do it better. I had
a hard-on almost the whole time I was massaging her. Afterwards,
I had lover's nuts -- my balls would ache and there'd be a cramp
at the base of my cock, the whole thing sore from being hard for
so long. I'd jerk off thinking about mom, what her hidden parts
looked like, what it would be like to be in her. I'd had lots
of girls, was what the counselors and magazines call a "sexually
active teen," but I wanted mom more than any of them.
liked it when I'd do powerful strokes from her shoulders all the
way down to her buns. This slid her around on the bed, so to keep
her steady, I'd brace my knee between her legs. She objected to
this at first, but I told her there was no other way to do it,
this was how they said to do it in the book, so she let me. Whenever
I tried to nudge my knee into her, though, she told me to stop
of her pain was in the lower back, and I spent a lot of time working
on those tense muscles, trying to get them to relax. I'd edge
her PJs and panties down a bit, and when she objected I'd say
something like, according to the book, the pain comes from blockages
in the deep musculature and this is the only way to get at them.
She'd mutter something but let me.
time I went a little farther down. Her bottom looked great, so
soft and round.
got to where I could put my knee higher up into the softness of
her thighs. If she'd move around, I'd grind it into her a little
bit and tell her to hold still.
I massaged her buns, I'd tell her the tension and pain was coming
from there and I could feel it breaking up. I'm not sure she believed
any of the reasons I gave. I think it was more that she needed
to say no, but once she'd protested and I'd given some sort of
explanation, then she could relax and enjoy what I was doing to
I got to the point where I could massage her whole "gluteus
maximus," as the book called it. Mom liked that a lot, murmuring
deep in her throat, her mouth open and smiling, eyes shut tight.
Afterwards she couldn't look at me.
once in a while on the following day, though, she'd give me looks
I'd never seen before -- pouty, embarrassed, upset, needy. She
wasn't in nearly as much pain, and she could move around easier.
wanted to be ready when the time finally came for me to put it
in, so I wore gym shorts that I could get out of quick. To not
upset her too much, I wore a sweatshirt that hung down far enough
to cover my hard-on and the damp spots from all the pre-come oozing
from the tip.
the book's help I convinced her most of her pain was radiating
up from spasmed posterior muscles that had to be loosened. Little
by little, she let me have free reign over her rear. I massaged
her butt with my whole forearm, making it ripple and slide. If
I touched her thighs or tried to get between her buns, she'd tense
up and say, "Don't! That tickles!" As I worked on her,
I could see the fringe of pussy hair and the edges of the lips
all glistening with moisture, her own pre-come. That meant she
wanted to do it too.
was fascinated to think I came out of there. Going back in seemed
the greatest thing that could ever happen.
spread her cheeks a bit and got a good look at it, red and wet,
open, ready, demanding, a powerful mama cunt. Give it to me ...
right now! it seemed to command me. You know what I want. She
doesn't, but you do. Do it!
couldn't hold back any longer. Without mom knowing, I worked my
way out of my gym shorts. I quickly pulled her PJ bottoms and
panties down to her ankles. She sat up startled, and I got a great
sight of her big tits, nipples hard. She saw my cock and gasped.
Before she could get up, I pushed her back down on the bed. "No,
don't!" she said and kicked with her legs. "Put your
pants back on!"
knew it was now or never. Unless I took her, she'd never let me
get this far again. I lay down on her back with my hard-on against
her. She screamed and tried to twist away.
was desperate, trembling with need of her. "I love you,"
I said, grabbing both her hands in mine and pressing down on her
to keep her there. Her wiggling and squirming helped me get between
her legs. I kept trying to get it in but I couldn't and didn't
want to risk letting go of her hands. She was crying now, but
as she felt me ramming there I guess her instincts took over because
she raised her hips to let me in. I could feel my tip pushing
her lips open, then the shaft entering. I slid into the best feeling
mom said again but it turned into long moan through her panting
mouth. I drove my rod into her harder, and she grunted with each
of my strokes. "This is wrong," she said.
is wonderful," I said, letting go of her hands and reaching
around to squeeze both breasts. They were soft and round and big
and beautiful, the nipples stiff and prickled. I wanted to suck
them like I'd done when I was little, but I couldn't get to them
with my mouth. Instead I kissed the back of her neck.
began moving with me, swiveling her hips around my cock. Now I
knew she really liked it. This excited me so much I couldn't hold
back any longer. I cried out in joy and started to come, flattening
her onto the bed with my frantic pumping thrusts. I could feel
my sperm jetting into her, streaming all the way into the womb
that had been my home.
a great lover," I told her as my orgasm finished. She seemed
in shock, eyes open but glassy and unfocused.
dropped one hand down from mom's tits to rub her pussy from the
front. I kept moving inside as I stroked her outside with my fingers.
She started crying again, tears squeezing from her closed eyes,
but she didn't seem unhappy. She began breathing faster and quivering
and making sounds. Finally mom's whole body tensed, her mouth
opened wide in scream of delight, and she thrashed around the
bed. Her excitement excited me, and I got rock hard again and
started coming, both of us going wild together, holding on to
each other for dear life, screaming, "Yes! Yes! Love you!"
and contented, we rolled facing and twined our arms and legs together
in an embrace. I could feel mom's breasts against me as we French
kissed, her sucking my tongue as if it were a cock deep in her
throat. Then I dropped down and kissed and sucked those soft,
round, big, beautiful tits to my heart's content. Her hands held
me close against her so tenderly, stroking my head and back.
fell asleep like that, totally blissed out.
next day, though, was a disaster. Mom had a stunned, frozen look
on her face. Her back pain was much worse, and she moved slowly
around the house, wincing and snuffling, suddenly old. "Shame
... you should be ashamed ... of what you did to me ... to your
mother," she said in a choked voice, staring at me like I
was Frankenstein. "That was rape. You raped your own mother.
I didn't want ... to do that. That's a crime against God."
tried to tell her how great it was, how much she'd liked it, but
she didn't want to hear it, could hardly look at me. She'd withdrawn
into a daze. I tried to get her to have a drink, to loosen up,
but instead she just took more pain pills.
thought after a few days it would wear off and we'd get back to
normal, but it didn't. She kept gimping around the place giving
me accusing looks to make me feel guilty. And it worked, I did.
I got bummed out about the whole thing, sorry I'd made her feel
worse. I'd really wanted to help her, to make her feel better.
I admit, sure, I wanted to do it to her, but I don't think sex
should make a person feel bad, especially when she liked it so
things got a little better between us. Mom told me in that quiet,
distant voice she used now that she'd forgiven me for raping her.
She hoped God would forgive me too.
got more hopeful that things would be OK again, but when I asked
her if she wanted another massage, she glared at me like I was
the devil and walked away.
months later I graduated from high school and left home. I enrolled
in college early for summer session, glad to get away. I miss
her and still feel bad that she feels bad, and I don't know how
to make it better for either of us, so it's just as good not to
been trying to forget about it, but last week I got a letter from
her saying she's praying to God to forgive me, not to send me
to hell. She said her back is even worse now and she's decided
to have surgery. The doctor will fuse the vertebrae together.
She won't be able to move as well, but the doc said she'll have
less pain. I hope so. I still think if she had loosened up and
accepted that her son was now her man and admited she liked it,
we could've kept on doing massages and making love and she wouldn't
have to have her back fused together.
Hathaway is the author of TABOO:
A MEMOIR, which is published by Dandelion Books and
serialized on Sliptongue (click HERE).
2008 by Tom Hathaway