Date: Sun, 14 Oct 2012 11:37:05 -0400
From: Jacob Schwann <cobschwann@gmail.com>
Subject: 'Cob 'n Pen #24'(bi inc BF cons)[24!28]

'Cob 'n Pen #24'(bi inc BF cons)[24!28]

This is a work of slow erotic fiction (bisexual, incest), adapted without
attribution from personal, family, public, and other sources. It is a
pastiche of original material as well as revised versions of a number of
story fragments borrowed liberally from elsewhere. All of the characters in
this story are portrayed by adults 18 years of age or older. If reading
erotic fiction is illegal where you live, or if you are under age for
reading this type of material, or this is not what you wish to read, please
leave this page now.

Comments welcome: Contact cobschwann@gmail.com.  The personal reminiscences
are much appreciated.

A reminder, Nifty needs our donations to post the stories from all the
authors. <http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html>

********************

Cob `n Pen #24

Summary: A brother and sister, Jacob (Cobby) and Penelope (Penny), recall
their first times in the 1930's by a patchwork of letters to a kind doctor
who helped them out of a jam.

Vignettes in this episode:  Cobby With Mom, first part

*
*
*
**********
Dear Uncle Doctor
From JACOB
Re:  Shotgun shack,  Pike Lake Crossroads,  Friday June 5, 1936

COBBY WITH MOM, FIRST PART
[Part A;  Part B to follow in Episode #25]

"Shit!"

I slugged the doorjamb, bloodying my knuckles.  My kid sister Penny was
gone.  Her green bed across from my bunk was empty. She was really gone. It
felt like I'd been kicked in the gut; the tears stung my eyes. I staggered
back into the kitchen and ended up with my head on the wobbly table, not
saying anything just silently bawling inside. My mom was in a sort of bath
robe and she turned from the stove to fuss at me, her hand on my shoulder.

"There, there.  There, there, honey.  I know you're hurting inside."

Mom ran her hand through the red tangles of my hair and caressed my
cheek. She talked of the past, about my dad's predilections and
indiscretions [Episodes #1, #3, #21] , and of when he was put away in the
asylum that last time, and how she and my sister and I fled the old
parsonage in Shallow Lake. We had moved all the way across Grey County to
Pike Lake Crossroads and our little chicken-coop shack on Great Aunt Elsa's
and Cousin Max's farm. My mind wandered to how Penny and I'd had to share
the itty bitty bedroom, with the old Schwann family quilt strung between
our beds to keep us from tormenting each other [Episode #10]. How I had
hated having to share – at first. Then one Indian Summer day down at the
swimming hole I `saw' Penelope, really saw my budding then 10 year old
sister for the first time, her rounded butt and pre-teen tits and her grin
with just her tongue tip held between her teeth [Episode #11]. After that I
watched her in the bathroom and the mirrors at home, and at her swim
practice at the Forest Mountain Old Drill Hall where I did rope climbs in
gymnastics. I could not get her out of my mind whenever I jerked off. I
later learned she was checking me out at the same time. A few months later
when she turned 11 we started canoodling around for real [Episodes #13,
#14, #15]. That Schwann family quilt tumbled down like the walls of Jericho
as the old Cainan Community curse of consanguinity came to pass, and she
touched me and held me and soon took me inside of her for the very first
time [Episodes #18, #19]. So sweet! Then we shagged together idyllically
for a year and that made my sister my girl! [Episodes #21, #22, #23]

But when her bloody monthlies started, she said she cared for me too much
for me to get her in a family way and have our local morally pure incest
vigilantes, the Black Coats, take me out to be castrated and hung up on the
Hanging Tree. That was real enough. It had happened to our grandfather
Josiah when he was 15, my age [Episode #4]. So my own mom and old Cousin
Max drove my 13 year old baby sister to the station, and put her on the
train to the Hamilton Inebriate Asylum to lie with our fool of a
father. Penny was going to him to get pregnant, the fate of all young
Cainan girls. I gave that long, lingering look over my shoulder at a way of
life that was quickly disappearing. It hurt.

"Oh shit!  Oh shit!  Oh shit!"

A warm, wet sensation on my right ear dragged me out of my sad abyss.  I
blinked, trying to come around.  Again, the warmth, the wetness circled my
ear. What was going on?  The tip of a tongue slid into my ear and sent
tickling sensation down my whole body.  Then it retreated and I felt lips
pressed up against my ear and I heard her voice.

"There, there son.  Come to momma."

My mother pulled my head between her big bosoms, wrapping her arms around
my gangly frame. I felt cared for and protected, and also on high
alert. Mom had been positively cheerful for the last week or so, laughing
and outgoing, living in fleeting joy. She was so warm and cuddly at those
rare times; I wanted to be around and near to her then. This happened once
in a blue moon when she was lifted out of her usual dark and sour place,
where of course I kept a certain distance. So I wanted to be close now, and
yet I was cautious.

That night I had just washed up and pulled on shorts and a torn but clean
undershirt after getting home late from lugging canned goods at Cousin
Max's store. I glanced around our hot dreary kitchen with its peeling paint
and torn wallpaper, and I looked at our mom. My mother was the most
beautiful woman there ever was, just out of her 30's, short and round, with
the black hair and reddish brown skin of her native Norovum Indian
ancestors, and those striking ox-eyes that we all shared.

"Oh mom," I sighed like I did every time my mother got with me in that
certain way, "I love you, mom."

She purred with understanding and pawed at my neck and upper back, poking
through the hole in the undershirt to rub her fingers over my skin, again
and again. Her touch smoothed and soothed, melting my taut muscles to let
loose. These were old games we had played long ago, but not in the last
couple of years [Episode #2]. My mom peeked at me regularly to see how I
was doing.

"You are my good boy."

All the blood rushed to my dick making it jump in my shorts. And when she
came closer to hug and kiss me, I felt such a stir in my balls, I swear, I
almost came in my pants right then and there. At the same time I was so
scared mom would notice my swelling bone. It was quite an awkward
situation. And it got worse. My cock had stiffened up a lot and began to
poke its way through the fly. Embarrassed and blushing brightly, I quickly
fumbled it back inside my underwear. Mom glanced at me, but I was gazing at
her breasts. I finally lifted my eyes and caught her smiling.

Then she turned to mess about the old wood cook stove, and fed me the
`animelles' she'd cooked up for me. The day before, I had gone with immense
old Cousin Max to castrate the bull calves. They really did not like it;
they squirmed a lot. Max threw the testicles into a bucket of iced salt
water. I looked down into the bucket and saw them floating around in there
and all of the blood created when the calves were castrated. I thought they
could have been mine and Steven's if the Black Coat incest vigilantes had
had their way out at the Hanging Tree [Episode #23]. My mom fried them up
fresh just like chicken, dipped in a mixture of egg and milk, then battered
with flour and deep fried with plenty of onions. I slipped them in my
mouth, feeling the roundness and bounciness on my tongue. They gave the
slightest resistance to the teeth and were the consistency of the thickest
rich creamy custard, coating the tongue, tasting like mild chicken liver
and onion. They might have turned my stomach, but as they went down they
seemed to give even more heft to my lap. Mom got me to laughing when she
made a show of cocking her head toward my crotch to see if the `oysters'
made my bulge larger.

"Ooh, I see inches in your pants," she recited the old county fair joke.

I was supposed to deliver the worn out tag line, `I just can't keep myself
in,' but I only burned red instead. I went to give her the usual goodnight
peck on the cheek, putting my hand on the back of her chair at the kitchen
table and leaned down for the kiss.  She was wrapped in her loose robe and
smelled of lavender and a hint of sweat.  She turned her head and our lips
met briefly.

"As a cute little kid you'd look at me and I'd laugh," she said
coloring. "Now you're bigger, and you look at me in a way that makes me
blush!"

Mom smiled with a twinkle in her eye as her hand caressed my narrow
shoulder and sinewy upper arm, freckled-tan by the sun.

"Jacob, I know you deserve an early night, having worked today and heading
off soon for summer camp and all, but would you mind doing me a favor
first?  Your hands and forearms are getting so strong that I'd love it if
you'd rub my shoulders and neck."

Mom was looking into my eyes and I couldn't speak, my mouth being
completely dry, but I did manage to nod willingly. She smiled, tugging her
robe down her back a bit, and handed me the Bag Balm. I opened the tin,
scooped out a small gob into my hands to warm it, and began to massage her
sloping shoulders. Her skin was smooth over her upper back, so abundant
compared to the thin, almost fragile body of her daughter, my sister.
Penelope was so small that I could fold her in one arm, and I feared I
might crush her between my hands and beneath my body when we went at it,
screwing like sibling acrobats. My mother was so substantial that I felt I
was currying a lioness, calming a power that might claw and eat me up. Mom
leaned back in her chair and let me rub her, gently at first but firmer and
firmer as we went on.

"Gee mom, you're all tense here," I said. "There are knots in your
shoulders."

"Oh Jacob, I must admit your hands feel very good."

After a few minutes I felt the tension disappearing from her. I slowly
changed from massaging her shoulders to rubbing and petting her neck and
throat, softly and gently stroking her. I was pleased to relax her so
completely. I moved from her throat and began to run my fingers over her
face and she just sat there with her eyes closed, obviously reveling in my
attentions. After a very short time she unfastened the robe, and let it
drape aside, uncovering a bit of her breasts for my notice. She reached to
fondle the length of my arm, feeling the new, stronger twists of my forearm
and the flex of my biceps as I massaged her.  Eventually she drew my hand
down to press on her chest and the top of her breasts. I was a kid that
happened to feel first, and think second. It took me a while to get the
significance of this, with both my excitement and my caution, and then I
was so nervous my hands were trembling and I almost dropped the tin. She
again took my hand, slowly sliding it beneath her bath robe, my fingers on
her big tit, frozen where she had placed them, like so very long
ago. Something of me wanted to be taken in by her.

"Slow, soft touches, Jacob baby," she whispered to me. "Please..."

My hand began to cup her breasts, little by little, gently squeezing as I
remembered doing after her bath when I was small. They swayed generously
below my eyes in the space where her housecoat was pulled apart. The
nipples were hard and sticking out. My lips pursed as though ready to
nurse. I was as helpless as a babe, and terrified. It was obvious that she
loved me rubbing and playing with them. For the first time I fully realized
the forbidden aspect of our actions, and I became aware that mom was
participating in this wickedness. I was strangely excited to see her legs
fall apart as she sat there. Her thighs slowly spread even further and I
watched, intrigued, as her hand dropped down, cupping and then pressing
herself hard through the dressing gown. I did not think she was aware that
she was doing this, but suddenly she sighed and sort of shuddered for a
moment and then reached up to push my hands away from her.

She pulled the robe about her and said somewhat shakily, "That felt good,
Jacob.  Very good.  A good rubdown always makes me feel better.  You just
took months of stress away and I'll sleep great tonight.  I think it's time
we both got off to bed.  Give me a goodnight kiss, Jacob, and away you go."

Her hand slid up behind my head and pulled me to her mouth.  I bent to her
and was fairly shocked to feel her tongue run across my lips. Mom actually
wrapped her arms around me and pressed her face firmly against mine,
probing and thrusting with her tongue until I opened my lips a little and
allowed the tip of her tongue to brush against my teeth. Despite myself, my
mouth opened to receive her tongue.  Then all on its own my tongue was in
her mouth and she was drawing on it, sucking on it, hard. Pulling back she
locked eyes with me.

"Mommy loves you so much, sweetie."

There was sweat on my upper lip and my cock drooled in my boxers.

I do not know where I got the nerve, but my voice quavered, "I like this,
mommy." And then I whispered boldly, "Maybe sometime...?"

I daringly allowed my hands to drop down and momentarily squeeze my
mother's bounteous breasts before pulling away in a highly excited state
and heading off to my bunk. Here I was about to go off to join Stone Crew
at Cainan Lake Camp; also my bed-buddy of a sister had abandoned me; and
now my mom had pulled me out of my funk by feeding me and playing forbidden
games.  Wow!  Did I dare to allow myself to imagine where all this might be
leading? I lay in my bunk for a long time thinking, the light of the full
moon bringing the forests of the night into the bedroom, and then fell
asleep.

******
******

Very early the next morning I had a dream of being hunted in the tall
savannah grass by a fearsome she-lion. I was swatted onto my back. The
lioness stood over me, huge, tawny, magnificent; gazing down at me
triumphant. Her long tail flicked. Her tongue licked. I could not move. I
was naked, immobilized, spread-eagled in the tall grass, the air dry and
hot, the sound of cicadas, the sun intense. The great head of the she-lion
nuzzled my face, trailing the tip of her tongue over my forehead, down the
length of my nose, her hot breath smelling of animelles. She pushed her
tongue over my parted, panting lips. She pushed the tip into my mouth, so I
could taste the smooth, rich organ.

"Suck," she commanded, her voice soft.

My mouth closed over the tip as I obeyed.

"Enough," the she-lion snapped.

I panted more as she tugged her tongue out of my mouth, trailing it down
and under my chin, on down my neck to the hollow at the base of my
throat. She swirled it slowly there and then continued to drag the tip down
my body, along my chest, over my belly to my navel. I panted, squirming,
struggling but bound. The mother lion swirled her tongue around my outie
belly button then continued to trail the tip south, through my tangled red
pubic hair, slathering down around the heft of my balls, and slid slowly up
and up the shaft of my dick. She flicked her tongue and it hit the tip of
my glans with a sharp slap, and I cummed, tremendously, released with a
shout. To escape the awful wet-dream I threw everything off and fled. I
writhed face-down, all nude on my bottom bunk; my covers down about my
knees.

"Magdalena...!" I found myself calling out my mom's given name over and
over in my mind or maybe out loud, "Magdalena..., Magdalena...!"

Some long time later I blinked. The golden dawn light from the window now
lit up Penny's bed across the grubby room not four feet away. It was empty
for sure; she was gone. I glanced sideways and saw that the bedroom door
was wide open.  There in the dark hallway was mom wet from her morning
bath, with a great towel around her short, motherly form. She carried a big
glass of milk and a couple of fresh baked biscuits. Clearly she was being
drawn into my room, believing I was asleep. Like in an early morning dream,
I was unable to move. Then I was dimly aware of her sitting on my bunk, her
fingers ever so softly stroking my uncovered bare bottom, and then rubbing
harder, kneading my roundness there. Suddenly shy, I fought to roll over
and her smiling face stared at my bare front. I couldn't move, exposed all
naked by my mother.

"I'm just greeting our little friend," she stared at my crotch.  "And it is
not so little anymore." She sang softly from Canticles of Cainan, 6: 10, "
`Who is this that looks forth like the dawn, fair as the moon, bright as
the sun, terrible as an army with banners?'  My, my, you are a big boy,
son!"

I lay paralyzed. I felt the heat of her hand as she put it on my hairless
chest, right where my nocturnal emission had dried stiff and
flaking. Caught in the act; I did not know what I was supposed to do.

"Oooh mommy.  I'm still so sleepy.  I don't know what's happening."

There I was, legs flung apart, blatantly nude with my balls loose and
hanging out and my penis thrusting sluggishly from the coils of red pubic
hair. I grabbed around for the quilt to cover my groin. Red in the face, I
opened my eyes fully and smirked breathlessly at my mom.

"No, no, Jacob." Suddenly unsure of herself, she pretended she hadn't seen
me. "I haven't actually `seen' you, seen you naked that is since you were
little," my mom lied.

She fed me the milk and a biscuit, picking the crumbs and cum scabs off my
scrawny ribs and flicking them away with the side of her hand.

"So I don't really know how big you've gotten.  It was teensy back then,"
she laughed blushing, wiggling her little finger in my face.

Pleased in spite of my irritation, I grinned groggily, "Well, it is not
that size now!"

I wolfed down the other biscuit and finished off the milk.

Suddenly mom got to her feet and declared, "Oh Jacob, your dad Jesse was
truly big."

"What?  He was?" I cried out annoyed. "How big, mom?"

I grit my teeth as I thought of my dad at that very moment in Hamilton
possibly pushing it up inside my tiny sister Penny. My mom stood silent,
barely covered in the cool early morning. She seemed lost in thought for a
moment, perhaps picturing his full-size phallus, or maybe even recalling
what she had just seen of my long skinny one.

"Are you cold?" I asked, making clumsy conversation.

My mother stood and turned aside, "Jacob," she groaned in her faraway
voice, "Penelope has gone away to...."

She stopped midsentence. I did not answer her, not wanting to think about
Penny on her `secret' mission to be with dad, our `truly big' dad. All
exposed, I bounced out of bed, holding the quilt in front of me and skipped
toward my mother. She was shivering.

"She's away for the weekend," I grumbled.  "She'll be back when....  You
know....  Look mom, I brought you a cover."

As her towel dropped to the floor I wrapped my mother in the old Schwann
family quilt, engulfing her naked body from behind in my arms. I was easily
a head taller and so narrow along her broad, rounded figure. My hips
weren't half as wide as hers.

"Oh my boy, it's time to be with your momma," she sighed in that lost tone,
resting her head back on my chest. "All this year you've played nicely with
your sister, making her ever so satisfied, and not once did you think of
your mother."

"I'm sorry, mom," not knowing why I said that.

"I know you didn't mean to hurt me.  Just don't forget your momma."

"I won't mom.  I'll warm you up," I whispered playfully in her ear.

"Mmm... It's warm now," she droned, as she pushed back against me.

I cannot explain what happened, but my hands moved to cup her full breasts
through the quilt. I wanted to say something to her about those days long
ago at the parsonage in Shallow Lake when dad would bring breakfast in bed,
and I as an 8 or 9 year old would be lying there in his still damp place,
petting mom's breasts [Episode #1]. Somehow all this was very old and very
familiar for the two of us.

Mom's singing from the Canticles reminded me of 8: 6, 7, " `For love is
strong as death, jealousy is cruel as the grave. The flashes are flashes of
fire, a most vehement flame. Many waters can not quench love, neither can
floods drown it.' "

No flood was going to quench what was in my loins.

"You're beautiful mom," I gulped.

My cock was hard as I stared from behind, over her shoulder and down at
her. What was I doing? My other hand squeezed her ass lightly and then
moved to massage her thighs and she moaned softly.

"Ooh....  That's nice," she cooed. "Your hands are so strong."

"I love you mom," I insisted in my new grown up lower register, as though I
was in some sick soap-opera on the radio.

My mother stretched her hand up to my bare shoulder, taking in her breath
perhaps at the surprising muscles there.

"But you're not capable...," she stammered child-like, making no sense.
"And you're too young, you're only 8, or maybe 9 now."  It was as if we
were back in her bedroom at the parsonage so long ago.  "Cobby you can't...
Wait!  You'll be bigger someday, then you can taste my...  You won't be
able to..."

I was not certain what she meant, but that did not stop me.

"Mom!  I am 15 years old for gosh sakes."  I was desperately defiant now,
"Believe me, I can!  I will!"

She protested, all the while pushing back against me. Even at age 41 or 42
she was the most dazzling and alluring force I could imagine.

"Oh-h-h, Jacob," she groaned.

We stood there; mother and son back to front in the doorway, dancing as it
were. We both glanced at the walls and ceiling of the small bedroom where
all the old mirrors reflected the cracked plaster, as well as mom's short
voluptuous shape wrapped in the quilt, with her round breasts and full
buttocks, her rich coppery skin, long black hair and wide ox-eyes. They
showed my tall lanky naked frame, the red hair at my head and groin crimson
against my stripped, pale skin and bare white butt. Then she wiggled her
bum and sensed my hardening prick captured through the quilt between her
ass cheeks.

"Honey, don't...," she moaned, pulling forward.

Something changed for her, and she decidedly shoved back at me.

"Then again....  You know, Jacob baby," mom said haltingly, "that last
night I could see your underwear was extremely tight.  I could see the bow
of..., of your..., you know, your penis, your cock, pressing against it.
You were gazing at my breasts.  My heart began to beat very quickly then,
so many thoughts rushing through my head.  I made up my mind at that point
to let things go wherever they would lead."

"Wha...?  Really?  Are you serious mom?"

I remembered the distant past in Shallow Lake when in one of her lightning
bright moods mom had cuddled up to me smiling and told me, "Lying with
young boys is like wrapping your arms and legs and body around a finely
sculpted lightning rod, supple and bendy, all lively and quick; slender and
narrow they are, full of unexpected quivers, jolts and shocks.  I'll take
them every time!"

I had understood from talks with Cousin Max that mom could only really do
it with boys. Ever since she was a little girl she could only climax, with
those intense muscle tightenings of the genitals and those pleasurable
waves of tingling sensations all over the body, when she had sex with young
boys like me. It just had been such a long time since I dared dream it
might actually be me. Now years later here we stood cuddling in the dim
hallway of our rickety little farm shack in Pike Lake.

I was pretty uncomfortable, "What about incest?"

Mom looked up at me, "Maybe I can help," she suggested.

"Huh?" I squirmed guiltily.  "How?" I asked, even as I caressed the mother
body that I so longingly desired.

Mom sang to me from the Cainan scriptures, Origins 38: 9, "And it came to
pass that all the times Onan knew his sister Tamar and went into her, that
he wasted his semen upon the ground, as the offspring must not be his."

What?  What'd she say?  Wasted his semen?  Oh, yeah!  So here was a way
out. There had been no taboo incest between Tamar and her brother Onan
because he spilled his seed on the ground. Why not mother and son? I
remembered I'd felt that if I didn't actually cum inside my sister Penny,
we weren't really fucking, were we? No seed, no incest, my mom had reminded
me. Nothing else needed to be spoken. If things ever got that far with mom,
which I did not believe could happen, I would simply withdraw.

Then somehow the two of us were gliding down the shabby passage to the tiny
parlor where the huge down sofa from the old parsonage took up most of the
room. There she was, striding into the middle of the room, my own mom, with
her son gawking in utter bewilderment at her nudity. She tried to cover her
bosoms. That was hardly working as those large breasts could not be covered
so easily. There she was, naked and fine-looking.

"Mom, you are beautiful!"

She held and lifted her own breasts a bit in the morning sun that came in
the parlor windows. My mother stepped about like a primal goddess, her
breasts swinging free now from any confinement. Seeing my mom's tits in
detail, I knew I would be able to touch them soon, and that fact made me
excited and dizzy at the same time. They hung down just a little, but they
were nice and fat and swollen with broad pink areolas and generous
nipples. She turned and revealed her astonishing pudenda. The bristly black
thatch was divided by those large wiggly lips like a clamshell.

I was as raw as my mother, except I held the quilt before me for a
shield. Smiling, she reached out to lightly run her fingers across my chest
and neck and over my narrow shoulders, and I shivered and shuddered like a
scared rabbit. Staring dumbly at her tracing finger, I stubbed my toe and
hit my head on the parlor door frame. I lurched and leaped about, throwing
my arms out to steady myself. She tugged away my cover to eyeball her nude
teen baby boy up and down.

"Adorable!  You're so tall and long Jacob, with your big feet and all of
you!  You're just a puppy, always hungry and tripping over everything!"

There I was, stumbling around in the altogether. I tried to cover my dick
with my hand, but mom said I had nothing to be ashamed of. Can you believe
it?

Mom looked me over, "You're not yet bristley and angular like an older man,
but as hairless and smooth as the boy you are."  She sang from the
canticles of Cainan, 5: 10, " `My beloved is white and ruddy, the chiefest
among ten thousand.' "

She was breathing deeply, staring at my stringy legs and dangling arms and
then my prick. It bobbed with each beat of my heart, the long thin shaft
bearing the big bell-head. Pearls of pre-cum formed on the tip of my cock
and dripped in strands down to the floor. I shyly worked the slick juice
around my fat purple crown, then under the sensitive place just above the
foreskin as my mother stared.

She confided breathily, "I'm enthralled, astonished by your penis."

With a sly grin she slid onto the overstuffed couch and beckoned. Her arms
reached for me. There was my massive mother, entirely in the buff on her
back on the thick puffy cushions, the quilt cast aside, pulling meager me
along all naked to her bare breasts.  What?  NO! I thought.  You can't be
serious.  This is so wrong.  This can't be happening!

"Huh...?" was all I said out loud.

Shaking like a leaf and practically drooling, I was tugged in close beside
her. Here I was a randy teen, having just been jilted by my own sister, and
my own gorgeous mom was coming on to me, so what the hey!  The sensation of
feeling her full, fluctuant, familiar figure against my thin exposed chest
and belly and thighs overwhelmed me. Throwing caution to the wind, in spite
of myself, my hands moved across my mother's stomach and dangerously lower.

"But mom, we're not wearing any clothes...!"

She gave me a peck on the cheek and then suddenly tugged me down into a
kiss, our lips clashing. Mom seized me by the hair, pulled my head up, and
began kissing me furiously. I guess she was very excited and her greedy
tongue made me shiver. Our mouths opened and she pushed into me, our
tongues forced together. Her breasts seemed to spring forth and I quickly
squeezed them with my hands. Her sweet, warm kisses trailed down to my chin
and neck and she buried her face at my throat, just like in my wet-dream. I
wriggled upon her, feeling her all soft and firm, taking her in through
every inch of my tight skin, like when I was small.

"Oh, baby, yes...  You're young and so clean and alive and so quick."  Mom
moaned the first part of Canticles of Cainan, 2: 3, " `My beloved boy is as
a sapling bending over me, giving rapture with his shade...' "

She snuggled closer to me and kissed me again, her taut nipples standing up
from her, quivering. She guided my head down, then steered her breast to my
mouth, running a nipple across my lips as she repeated the instructions she
had given me so many years ago.

"Suck mommy's nipple, please honey."

STOP! NOW! my mind insisted, fighting against my body melting into hers.

But "Ah-h-h...," was all I said, as I gazed into her eyes, then at her
breast.

Free of any will of my own, my hand cupped the rounded flesh, my head fell
and a nipple was in my mouth, moist and succulent. My face instinctively
thrust against her, like a calf bucking the udder to sip, and I sucked it.

"That's right. A little gentler, yes, like that."

I hesitated, reason and caution faded away like a morning mist. I curled
onto her, holding her breast with my thumb below, my fingers kneading
softly. I took her other breast in my hand and lightly squeezed it. She
sighed low and stroked the skin of my shoulders and ass in that way only a
mother can with a suckling babe.

"My nipples are very sensitive, and yes, you may touch them, just like
that," she said softly, but soon grew impatient. "But now I want you to
tease them with your tongue and take them in your mouth and nurse, not too
hard."

Nodding into her, I worked her breast as though I would have her milk. My
lips puckered and drew her into me. I pulled back and her nipple popped
from my mouth with a sucking sound. The pursing of my lips, the drawing of
her flesh into me, the moaning of satisfaction long denied – all sealed
my fate.  I was very happy.

"Oh, Jacob baby, work at it gently, but not too gently.  Your warm tongue
fondling my nipple gives a tingling in my tummy," she murmured.  "Every
woman'll get excited and ready to make love with you when you suck and lick
their breasts and nipples and occasionally bite them very softly.  Women
love to have attention paid."

I followed her directions readily as her nipples grew long and firm. I
licked them, and then drew on them with my lips, over and over, my mouth
and hands massaging her firm breasts until she was moaning and writhing on
the sofa.

"Oh, sweetie, that feels so good.  Please don't stop."

And I didn't. I could not believe it; neither of us had on a stitch of
clothing yet there we were wiggling all over each other just like I was a
little kid again. Her hands pressed hard along my slim back and sides all
down to my slender butt until her arms fell by her sides. Mom closed her
eyes and laid her head back, seemingly lost in syrupy pleasure. Sticky
juices seeped from her vagina.

"I don't know....  There's nothing I can do," mom sighed. "I can only guess
why I am so aroused and excited.  Your tongue swirling around my breasts is
sending me over the edge."

Submerged in her own pleasure, she was moaning for all she was worth. I
took her other nipple in my mouth and bit on it. Calling out that she loved
me, mom's ample naked body thrashed around the sofa, jolting up and down
next to mine.

"Ah-h-h!  I'm on the brink, Jacob.  I feel it building deep inside.  Oh...!
Oh-h-h!"

To my surprise she stiffened and let out a loud low groan. I had made my
own mother cum. She groaned in sweet satisfaction, the clear woman-cum
oozing from her center faster and faster. Finally she calmed down, a smile
welling across her face.

"Oh my Jacob, the sensations you send through my body are amazing," mom
giggled, giving me a kiss as a reward.

***

"And now I want more. I need you to lie here and just relax baby. Mommy
wants to make you feel good."

Mom directed me onto my back as she slithered her hand up the goose bumps
on my lean, muscley leg, until she reached my ballsack, now tense and drawn
up hard. She slid her fingernails over my cobbles ever so gently. My breath
began to race. My cock bounced. Her hand came to rest on my long, thin
erection.

"What's this?" she asked in mock surprise, taking a hold on it.  "A boy
showing his all in front of his mother?  Like this!"

"Come on mom," I gasped nearly speechless. "It just happens all the time
now; part of growing up, I guess."

She did not loosen her grip on my erect penis. She was measuring me by
feel; maybe comparing me to the times long ago when we had been together
once upon a time.

"I remember washing this when you were little.  The head of it was smaller
than the tip of my pinkie."

She shamelessly loosened her grip and tightened it over and over, and then
with her two fists she clasped it along its length just for show.

"Something's begging for attention," she said in a naughty voice, lifting
her eyebrows. "It's larger than I expected; formidable to say the least!"

I sniggered at the joke. My cock actually was longer than most of my
classmates; but it was so skinny; it was like a thin carrot with a plum on
top next to their cucumbers. My breathing gave me away. I was as excited as
she was.

"Mom....  You sure this is what you want to do?"

Even as I spoke my arms went around her shoulders pulling her closer, and I
pressed my tense chest against the cushions of her breasts. We were losing
all control. In a flurry of activity mom got to her knees beside me, making
me lie flat on my back on the big down cushions. There was the dribble of
pre-cum shining from the broad helmet of my penis. My mother, my own
mother, leaned in and licked the tip of my cock, like that day in the bath
so long ago. I could not believe it. I thought I would die and go to heaven
- or hell.

"... `and his fruit is sweet to my taste'," she said finishing Canticle 2;
3.  "It's a salty droplet," she said. "It tastes so good!  I have missed
that."

"That nearly made me let loose all over you, mom," I said gasping for
breath.

"Don't ejaculate yet Jacob," she demanded.  "Tell me when you're going to
have an emission."

She seemed to do what came naturally. She said something about this not
being the first time she had been on bended knees in front of a man.

"You are my good-looking, teener boy," she whispered.

She first kissed me all over my tense chest, circling my nipples with her
tongue.

"Mom!  Please...," I breathed between half-parted lips.

Lower and lower she went, slobbering all over my taut stomach. Before I
could react, she maneuvered in front of me. My cock was so hard it poked
her in the throat, and then she was face to face with it. She twirled her
fingers in the curls of my red pubic hair and grinned. She came closer to
gently pull my foreskin down to expose the big moist mushroom head. I cried
out when she gave me a lick right across the top of my penis. As I leaned
back spellbound, propped on my elbows, she went to work. She took the whole
head of my dick in her mouth, sucking on it until I groaned with zeal. I
craved it.

"Mom!  Your mouth is so hot, and wet."

Her hand cupped my butt-cheeks and she pulled me to her. Her mouth created
a suction and she bobbed up and down. My mom rotated her fist and her mouth
around my slender cock.

"Oh, yes mom!  Haa..., that feels so good.  I love you," I said, flopping
from side to side, groaning.

She slipped her lips along the skinny length to slurp me into her maw,
until a good bit of it was within her soft, wet mouth. She was up and down,
bouncing in my groin. I gripped her hair, meeting her sucking with my
thrusts.

"Mommy!  I love it so much.  Oh mom, it's starting to feel good.  Yes, mom,
yeah..., yeah..., yeah!"

I could not believe it. I could not stand it. She was devouring me, and I
hoped she never stopped. Yet this was my mother! I was her kid! The
disconnect, the dissonance, was too great.

"Ah-h-h!  Oh mom!  Ungh..."

She slid me in and out of her mouth, while reaching down to run her
fingernails over my tight scrotum, her eyes studying the contortions of my
face and boy-body as I writhed like a harpooned fish. My breath came in
little gasps. My legs jumped and my toes and fingers stretched and curled
while my body made uncontrollable jerks and jigs. Every bit of me extended
out and my hair stood on end. As though a hot electric wire were threaded
through my cock into my very core, I began to moan.

"M...mom...  I can't hold on....  Gaahhh."

She tried to swallow my cock whole. Suddenly I made no movement, uttered no
words to warn her as I shot my sticky boy fluid into my mom's mouth.

"Ngh-ah!  Ngh-ah..., ngh-ah...  Oh mom!  Ah!"

She seemed surprised, but only sucked and pumped my cock harder with her
hand.

"Oooh, that was quick," she coughed.  "Mmm...  And thick!"

She tried to take it down her throat as though she wanted to draw the very
life out of me. Licking, yanking my cock and drawing up every drop, she
went kind of nuts while I floated about forty feet above the sofa.

She finally was able to speak, "You are so boy-fresh and sweet; to feel
your young muscles go hard and see them pop out.  I want to eat you up!"

I lay there like a busted carnival balloon. Eventually I took her in my
arms and kissed her.

"See, I knew you would like it, Jacob.  It's about time you smiled."

My tongue licked the drops of cum from her lips and lapped at what was left
in her mouth.

"Sorry to get you dirty, mom."

She giggled so hard she could not answer me, shaking her head, no, from
side to side.

"Your sperm is so young, bright, warm, salty and thick.  And so very much!
Jacob, I love it!"

We fell on our sides, locked in one another's arms, slippery with sweat and
semen. Her hand was still holding my limp cock, covered with the last of my
warm juices. She sucked the cum from her fingers, and I took her hand and
licked off some of my jism, then let her finish the job. It was madly
erotic and sensuous. It was beyond belief.

I was a skinny horn-dog of a kid who had just been blown by my own big,
round mother!

[Part B to follow in Episode #25]

Yours truly, JACOB
**********
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<To be continued.>

COBBY  WITH  MOM,  PART B comes next in Cob `N Pen #25