Swimmerboy Pt. 07

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A week later my freshman year began at ASU in Tempe on a full athletic scholarship. Almost an hour’s drive from my parents’ house in the burbs it was far enough for me to feel away from home without leaving the blue skies and palm lined streets of the Valley of the Sun I liked so well. I moved into a sprawling ranch a few miles from campus with three other male students but soon learned I would spend very little time there.

Between athletic training and classes I had little time for anything in my new digs except study, eat and sleep. And piano practice. I brought the electric piano from my bedroom at home—the one my folks bought me in middle school when they got tired of hearing me play the upright in the living room all the time. Whenever they requested it and during certain hours I could only play the electric in my room with headphones on. Now it was set up in my bedroom meeting my daily need to play. A pianist and his piano should never be separated.

My major? Music. Musical performance to be exact. Sad thing was I had only one music class first semester and it was piano theory. Boring. Still I haunted the practice rooms as much as I could listening to upper classmates play, meeting everyone and checking out the talent. It was quite good. Core requirements filled the rest of my class schedule. Of those only math interested me. Despite my C average I had developed good study habits in high school and college didn’t feel any different except I was finally away from home.

The other reason I spent little time in my new digs was my girlfriend. Naomi moved into a house with two other roomies just a few blocks from me. After the first two nights in our new homes we began spending the night with each other, alternating between her place and mine. She thought my futon on the floor was too firm but it didn’t stop her from straddling me and dancing on my dick. A nursing major she loved nursing my big cock inside her wet pink love, her long fragrant hair in my mouth, her face always frowning in passion, her body moving out of control. Her high bed was too soft for me but allowed me to stand while I fucked her lying at the edge with her warm smooth legs against my belly and chest. After a couple of weeks of this we had to stop because it distracted too much from our schoolwork. More than anything our fuck fest got it out of our systems.

The third weekend in September I drove out to stay with mom. Dad had asked me to come home that weekend and stay with mom while he was away hunting with his buddies. Still stuck with her tragically uncool minivan, I drove out right after classes Friday afternoon to beat rush hour traffic. To my surprise dad’s SUV still sat in the driveway. As I approached the front door they popped out and greeted me. Mom kissed my cheek. Dad shook my hand.

“Well I’m sorry son,” dad said, “but your mother needs her car back.”

“What?” I said. “What am I supposed to drive?”

“Now, now,” he said, putting an arm around me, guiding me along the walk towards the driveway and handing me what looked like a credit card, “we got you a bus pass.”

“Yes hun,” mom chipped in. “You live close to campus so you can use public transit.”

“And you have your bicycle,” dad said.

Stunned, I stopped in front of the garage door, unhappy with this drastic turn of events. No car? No way!

Mom lifted her hand and pushed the button on the remote which I had not noticed in her hand. The garage door churned slowly upwards. Inside sat a brand new silver Corvette pointed nose out. My jaw dropped.

“Surprise!!!” they both cried.

Mom reached up, put fingers under my jaw and closed my mouth, giggling. Dad dangled key fob in front of me. Wide-eyed and speechless, I reached out and took it.

“You didn’t really think we’d let you keep driving around in that old thing, did you?” he smiled, pounding my back.

“Congratulations dear,” mom said, kissing me on the cheek. “We’re so proud of you.”

I just stood there between my parents–my tall, barrel chested, barrel bellied ex-college offensive lineman father on one side, my tall slender, ex-college swimmer mother on the other, one of her long arms around my waist. Dad slung an arm over my shoulders.

“Say something, hun,” mom said.

“I can’t believe it. I just can’t believe this!” I said. “You guys are the BEST!”

“You’re the best, son,” dad said. “All your discipline and hard work have paid off. I can’t tell you how proud we are.”

Mom turned a bit and pressed against me from the side, resting her chin on her free hand over my shoulder, her other hand squeezing my waist, hugging my side, her breasts pressing to me.

“Thank you,” I said. “Thank you so much. Both of you.”

“Did we surprise you, sweetheart?” mom asked, squeezing me again.

“Totally,” I said. “Completely.”

“Take her for a spin,” dad said.

“Okay,” I said. “Come with me?”

“I have to get on the road,” he said looking at his watch, “or I’ll be struck in rush hour. You go ahead. The guys are already waiting for me at the cabin.”

“Mom?” escort ataşehir I said.

“You go first,” she said. “Go on.”

They watched me climb in the ‘vette, adjust seat and mirrors, start her up and ease out of the garage. The tires squealed a bit when I turned out of the driveway onto the street, my right foot unused to being in charge of five-hundred horsepower. I tooled around neighborhood streets, raced down main drag past the high school then headed back. When I got home dad’s car was gone. I pulled into the garage then put mom’s minivan in the garage to get it out of the sun, too. My duffle bags were missing from her car.

“Those are dirty,” I said, coming in through the laundry room.

“I know, dear,” mom said throwing my dirty laundry in the washer. “I could tell when I opened the bag.”

“I can do my own laundry, mom,” I said, coming up behind her.

“I don’t mind, hun. You’re home now. Just relax.”

I held her shoulders in my hands from behind, bent down a little and kissed her cheek.

“Thanks, mom. For everything.”

“You’re welcome,” she smiled. “Do you like the car?”

“Are you kidding? It’s awesome. Drives like a race car,” I said, not ever having driven a race car.

“Good,” she said, her arms closing and starting the washer. “When do I get a ride?”

“Now if you want.”

“In a little bit. I have something in the oven.”

When she turned I hugged her lightly. She wrapped arms around me and pulled her body to mine in a full hug, her breasts flattening to my chest, her belly, pelvis and thighs pressed to mine. Her hair and body filled my nostrils with her familiar scent. Then she let go and gave me a little push.

“Go unpack. I put your other duffle and your backpack in your room.”

I walked away.

“Are you hungry?” she called after me.




* * *

I didn’t unpack. I sprawled on my back on my bed, crossed a forearm over my eyes and dozed off. When I woke I had a huge boner straining in my shorts. I wondered how long I’d been out. The smell of food and rain filled my nostrils. Had a monsoon thunderstorm popped up? It took me a moment to realize mom was sitting on the edge of the bed next to me.

“Hun?” she said softly. “Hun?”

I pretended to be asleep, embarrassed about the bone in my shorts. Images of rotting carcasses, starving children and atom bomb victims flew through my mind as I attempted to quell my erection. Nothing worked. It’s not like she hadn’t seen my bulging speedo or me hard in shorts on the couch before, but sitting on my bed was different. As I became fully awake I felt it: her hand was resting softly over the boner in my shorts. Mom too? Really? I couldn’t believe it. How long had it been there? My rod strained even harder.

“Only you could get a brand new car and fall asleep,” she whispered.

“Is it raining?” I said, stirring.

“You’re awake,” she said surprised, removing her hand.

“Just now,” I lied, lifting my arm off my eyes and squinting. “I smell rain. And food.”

Right on cue it thundered faintly in the distance.

“There’s a thunderstorm warning,” she said. “Dinner’s ready.”

“Good,” I said, getting up. “I’m starving. How long was I out?”

“An hour.”

She watched as I adjusted the bone in my shorts when I stood up. “Sorry mom.”

“It’s okay,” she smiled. “It’s natural. You’re big like your father.”

I followed her out of my room but turned left for the bathroom to empty by bladder.

* * *

Sheets of rain pounded against the windows as the monsoon storm broke over us while we ate dinner. Outside trees and palms rocked violently in the winds. The entire house shook from nearby lightning strikes. Whitecaps danced on the pool. The deluge roared on our steel roof and patio cover. We chatted over the din. Mom wanted to know every detail of my first month at university. I told her about everything except my nights with Naomi. Mom asked if we were still dating. I said yes and she didn’t press further. Then I had to ask about the Corvette.

“You guys know I can lose my athletic scholarship if you accept any money or cars or gifts that benefit us, right?”

“We know the rules, hun,” mom replied. “We bought the car using money we saved to put you through college.”

I blinked. “You saved money to send me to college?”

“Of course we did,” she said. “We started before you were born.”

“It’s just that a Corvette is going to attract the attention of the NCAA,” I said, thinking about my father’s business. He made good money but there were rumors of deals that weren’t quite on the up and up.

“Don’t worry about the car, hun,” my mother said, patting my hand. “We cleared it with our lawyer. It’s all above board.”

“Okay,” I said. “Don’t tell dad I asked.”

“I won’t hun,” she said, sipping wine.

“You never told me you were saving to send me to college,” I said.

“Didn’t we?” mom said. “It’s not like we’ve ever hurt for money. Your father has done kadıköy escort bayan very, very well.”

“You deserve a Corvette, mom.”

“Thanks hun, but they’re not very practical are they?”

We lived in a swanky Phoenix suburb and my father drove a Benz SUV, but mom’s older minivan made we wonder how flush my parent’s financial situation really was. If they had that much money why wasn’t she driving a Benz convertible? Practicality. That’s mom. I dropped the subject.

The storm abated to light sprinkles. We heard thunder off in the distance as it moved away from us. I sat at the piano and practiced a Franz Liszt piece while mom cleaned up and loaded the dishwasher. Then we sat down to a long, vicious game of chess which I lost.

“You’re getting better every time,” she said. “Still too aggressive at first, but better.”

“Hmmph,” I grumped.

“I’ve been playing a lot longer than you,” she said trying to soothe me.

It didn’t work. Mom almost always won and I wondered if I would ever get much better at it. Her brain worked in ways mine didn’t, seeing many more moves ahead than I. More to the point she was a dedicated student of the game who belonged to a chess club. I wasn’t. I killed at piano, she killed at chess.

“Movie night?” she said, resetting the board and putting it aside.

“Raiders?” I replied.

“Queue it up,” she said. “I’ll pop some corn.”

Movie night with mom was a tradition when dad was away but there were only three movies we could agree to watch together. Raiders of the Lost Ark was our favorite.

I slipped the disc into the DVD player and watched the Diamondbacks play baseball while waiting for mom. The roof of Chase Field, closed all afternoon against the blazing desert heat, now protected against stormy weather. Play went on without missing a beat.

“Who’s winning?” mom said, turning off the lights, setting the bowl of popcorn between us and handing me a Coke.

“No score. Second inning,” I said, switching to the DVD.

Halfway though the film the popcorn bowl sat empty on the coffee table. We could hear the thunder of another approaching storm. Mom leaned against me with her feet up under her. We had done this many times before on movie nights when dad was away and like many of those times I got rock hard with her cuddling up to me. This time something new happened: she moved one hand from her lap to my thigh. A second later she rested it over the long hard lump in my shorts.

“Mom?” I said.

“Shhh,” she said.

Her fingers began tracing the outline of my erection through my thin nylon shorts.


“Don’t say anything,” she whispered, her eyes on the flatscreen.

I reached over and cupped her breast through her sleeveless cotton top, squeezing it lightly and moving it in small gentle circles, wishing her bra wasn’t in the way. Her nipple soon pushed through the lace of her bra. I rubbed a thumb softly back and forth over it. Mom’s breath caught and she hummed softly.

I moved my hand to her other breast, cupped it, squeezed it softly and moved it. Her hand left my cock, slid up under my shirt, traced my washboard abs then moved up to my pecs. She cupped and squeezed them. Her fingers ran over my hard nipples. I slid my hand down her front and back up under her top, my fingertips tracing her ribs and sternum then playing at the edges of her bra cups which strained with the fullness of her tits.

Indiana Jones dropped into the map room of Tanis right about the time my mother’s hand slid down over my washboard and into my shorts. I felt her fingers wrap around my cock and pull it up and out of it’s cramped circumstances. I sighed in relief.

“Better?” she whispered.

“Mhm. Take this off,” I said, fingers tugging at the edge of her bra.

She obliged me, letting go of my dick, pulling off her top and unhooking and removing her bra. I watched her breasts swing free and pulled off my shirt. She kissed my shoulder and returned her hand to hold my hard cock where it stuck up past my waistband. My hand caressed her breasts, nipples, shoulders and belly then pushed into her shorts and down into her panties. With her legs folded up under her to one side I had to push them open to get to her sex. She slid her long legs out from under her and down the couch, leaning more heavily against me but opening her legs obligingly to my hand. While her fingers explored my cock, mine explored her vulva.

We watched Indy and Marion escape from the pit of asps. My fingers caressed my mother’s large labia, pushed them open, caressed her small labia then pushed into her opening vagina. My mother’s hand cupped my heavy balls, her head resting heavily on my shoulder, her chest heaving.

I fingered her for a while, her little gasps and body responses telling me she was getting hotter and hotter. Finally I pushed her off me and spun her around until she fell flat on her back on the couch. She opened her shorts and started pushing them down. I grabbed them and pulled them off. Her panties soon followed. I escort bostancı pulled them off her feet and dropped them on the floor.

“I want you,” she said, propped up on her elbows, her nipples pointing at me, her eyes in mine as I stripped off shorts.

“I want you, too,” I said.

I knelt between her legs on the couch. She lifted and opened them, her eyes on my cock. I rubbed its head over her clit and lips several times then pushed it into her wet pussy. Mom’s mouth and big blue eyes went wide and she gasped. I got more than halfway in when stopped by tightness. To stop me pushing further mom’s long arm reached down and wrapped fingers around my cock.

“You are rock hard,” she gasped, holding me there, looking at her son’s erection halfway in her.

My thighs were butterflied against the backs of hers. I backed off a bit, my big hands caressing her thighs, belly and tits. Mom’s hand let go of my cock and pressed flat against my lower abdomen. I pushed in a little further, loving the feeling of her sexflesh tight against mine. I gave her a dozen small thrusts, pushed in deeper, another dozen small ones, then pushed in deeper, then another dozen and deeper until I was all the way in her.

“Oh my God you are big!” she gasped.

I could not believe it: I was all the way inside my own mother! My beautiful, tall, slender, narrow-waisted, ample-breasted mom with her perfect apple butt and big blue eyes.

I began full thrusts, slowly at first then picking up the pace. She rested her warm hands on my muscled swimmer thighs while I pumped her long deep pussy, her tits bouncing in circles. I could feel my load building too quickly and slowed down.

“Ooo… oooo… don’t slow down… fuck me!” she gasped.

I stretched my legs straight out behind me, planted hands above her shoulders, arched my back deeply and fucked my mother as hard as I could. She moaned in pleasure when I began swinging my hips in circles screwing her powerfully.

Suddenly my load let go blasting deep into her. I cried out and collapsed to her panting, loving her hands running down my back to my butt. When she squeezed my ass my cock pulsed a few more times inside her. We rested belly to belly, my eighteen year old butt in her thirty-nine year old hands, my eighteen year old cock in her thirty-nine year old pussy.

“That’s my handsome young man,” she whispered in my ear, her hands slowly caressing my back from broad shoulders to narrow hips and back again.

When our breathing returned to normal I propped up on elbows and looked deep in her eyes. Mom blinked. I blinked. I lowered my lips to hers but she turned her head away. Was it possible that a kiss was too intimate for her but my come and cock inside her wasn’t? She kept turning her head side to side avoiding my kiss until I clamped her head in place. When I invaded her mouth she squirmed under me, her palms on my chest trying to push me off but I pressed down hard, moving her tongue with mine. Her squirms quickly became thrusts, her hips grinding wildly underneath me while I kept my lips clamped to hers sucking all the air out of her. Several little squeaky hums issued from her throat when she came, her sex tightening and pulsing against my hard rod. Her hips stopped moving and she went limp. When I broke our kiss she inhaled and sighed contentedly.

“Did that make you come mommy?” I whispered in her ear.

“Yes,” she whispered back, reaching for the box of tissue on the coffee table. She pulled several and handed them to me. “Don’t let it get on the couch.”

I gave her a little kiss, pushed up, slid out of her and stuffed tissue into her vagina. She reached down and adjusted the tissue the way she liked it. I grabbed more tissue and dabbed at the wet spot on the cushion where we had overflowed a bit.

“Don’t worry about it, hun,” she sighed, her hand on my side pushing me away so she could get up.

Side by side my mother and I walked naked through the house. Down the hall I ducked into the main bath to pee. She disappeared into the master suite. Outside the storm rumbled louder as it approached. The bathroom window lit up with each flash of lightning.

When I returned to the living room mom was spreading sheets on the couch. I stopped. From across the room and let my eyes sweep down the long curving lines of her back to her narrow waist, over her sharply curved butt and down her smooth legs. She looked at me and smiled.

“What?” she said.

“You’re so beautiful,” I said.

Her smile broadened. “Thanks hun.”

“Look at me,” I said.

“I am,” she said, her eyes on mine.

“No I mean really look at me,” I said.

Her eyes ran haltingly down my body stopping at my chest, my belly and my sex before going down my legs and returning to my eyes.

“Come closer,” she said.

I stopped a few feet from her. Her large blue eyes moved all over my body at point blank range. Her nipples hardened. She bit her lip.

“Turn around,” she said.

I did, my head turned to one side half watching her. She stood admiring my form for a few minutes then reached out. I felt her warm hand touch my shoulder then run slowly down my latissimus dorsi to the small of my back where it stopped for a moment before moving over my butt. Her other hand joined in, holding and squeezing my buns.

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