Chapter 2

The next morning, Mom asked Dad if it was okay if I helped her pick berries instead of working on the barn for a few days.

“Do you need him? He’s doing so well and I have several people wanting to buy lumber.”

“I do,” Mom replied.

“For how long?”

“Two or three days.”

“Days?”

“Do you want blackberry jam this winter?”

Dad grumbled but gave his blessing.

That morning, I helped Mom pick a pile of blackberries. We had a picnic lunch on the small hilltop behind our house. Mom finished eating before me and lay back on the blanket, one armed crooked behind her for a pillow and the other bent on her forehead to cover her eyes. She looked beautiful, with strands of her thin, wispy hair straying across her freckled face and her legs outlined by the loose summer dress. I could even see the bumps that marked the location of her smallish breasts, pulled high and taut by her outstretched arms.

“How should a guy go about touching a girl’s breasts?” I blurted out.

Mom frowned and I immediately regretted what I’d said. I had ruined this pleasant time where we were acting like a normal mother and son.

“I shouldn’t have asked,” I said. “Forget it.”

Mom smiled. “It’s okay. I know you’re curious.”

Still, she didn’t say anything and I decided to let it drop.

“I can’t really tell you. I don’t have much experience in that line.”

“Why? Isn’t Dad a breast man?”

Mom laughed but not pleasantly. “Yes, but mine are too small to warrant his attention.”

“What about Jerry?” I ventured.

I had a sudden, enormous desire to see and fondle her breasts. They were small, I knew, but I bet they were sexy like the rest of her.

“He’s like your father in that regard, I’m afraid.”

I dropped the subject and sat in silence. I gazed down the hill, surveying our house, the barn and other outbuildings, the garden, and the field between us and them. I put my hand on Mom’s bare foot and idly began stroking her ankle. Soon, I was rubbing her leg from foot to above her knee. Something stirred in my loins and I turned to lie beside her, on my side. I leaned over to kiss her and we were soon necking. My hand lifted the hem of the dress onto her tummy and she opened her legs to welcome my hand on her panties.

As if it was expected I tried to slip my fingers inside Mom’s panties. She stopped me, of course, but without the firm reprimand. A simple, firm grip on my wrist was enough. I returned to her panties and soon tried to slip a finger through the legging. Mom chuckled but her hand gripped my wrist. I tried twice more and then pulled my hand away.

I sat up and looked at her. Her eyes were and closed she looked like she was waiting, confident I would return. I also knew I would but held off, admiring her face which was flush with excitement from our kissing and petting. The dress was piled on her tummy yet Mom made no effort to cover herself or to even close her legs. The panties where swollen and there were two sharp points pricking into the dress where her small breasts should be, as excited as the rest of her body.

The dress buttoned down the front. I started to unbutton the top one and Mom’s hands latched onto mine but gently, without the firmness used to prevent the invasion of her panties. My fingers persisted and Mom’s hands fell away. Excitement surged within me and I fumbled several times in my attempts to undo the remaining buttons but eventually they were all undone.

I hadn’t pulled the dress apart as the buttons were removed. Now, I gently put my fingers between the two halves and separated them, pulling them apart in one swoop to reveal my mother’s breasts.

They were divine. Small, yes, but the nipples stabbed upward, shamelessly. She had awesome little tits!

“They’re fools,” I announced.

Mom knew who I was talking about and smiled.

“Fools,” I repeated.

The hand across Mom’s forehead abandoned her eyes to the sun and joined the other to form a better pillow under her head. Her breasts awaited.

I leaned over and kissed her gently instead of going straight for her tits. I smiled because I knew I had surprised her and she smiled back. I kissed her several more times and then lowered my head, kissing her chin, then her throat and clavicle before pressing my lips onto the upper swells of her breasts. A minute later, I sucked a nipple into my mouth.

It took a while before I learned how she liked to have her tits suckled but I will never forget the reaction to that first suck. Mom arched her back and shoved her whole tit into my mouth. Her breasts were very sensitive. Like her mound, they loved to be touched. Not mauled, but touched, and kissed, definitely kissed.

I alternated between Mom’s mouth and her breasts. Her hands unwound from beneath her head and clutched mine, following but never leading it on its journey from one location to the other.

My hand returned to Mom’s panties and rubbed more vigorously than before. Her body writhed on the blanket and I sensed she was turned on more than she’d ever been before, at least with me. I felt I could do anything with her. When I look back, I realize that was a major part of why Mom was so exciting. She let me know how much I excited her and that really turned me on.

My fingers slipped under the waistband of her panties. I hadn’t meant to try again; it was simply automatic. Mom’s hand gripped my wrist and I stopped. I was about to apologize when her grip loosened and her hand fell away. I remained still, breathing heavily, until her hand pressed on the back of my head, forcing my mouth onto her nipple. My fingers pushed lower and climbed onto her mound, splaying to either side of her slit to caress her lower lips. Mom moaned and after a few rubs my finger slipped into her cleft.

She arched her back, forcing her tit deep into my mouth. I sucked hard and pushed my finger into her cunt. Mom pulled me onto her and wrapped her legs around mine making it difficult to keep my finger inside her but I managed. Now that I was in there I wasn’t going to be easily dislodged.

Mom’s arms kept my head on her chest and her hips bumped and writhed against me as she fucked my finger. It was like I had let a caged panther loose. My bulge thrust and rubbed against the bony front of her left hip. She was moaning like crazy, or so I thought until I realized at least half of them, the louder ones, were mine. It was incredibly intense.

Mom became even more vocal and so did I. The writhing became frenetic and I knew we were both coming hard. I collapsed on her side, my chest heaving in time with hers. I fell off onto my back and listened to her gasping lungs, almost as desperate to be filled as my own. We recovered slowly until our breathing was regular, lying side by side on our backs.

Eventually, I sat up. Mom’s eyes were closed and her dress was still wide open, displaying her complete nakedness except for the panties. Her body looked relaxed but there was still a slight sheen on her skin from the sweat of our exertions. Her breasts were rosy and the nipples still distended. My gaze lowered to the white panties which were pulled halfway down, leaving her pussy partially exposed, a tuft of wispy brown hair and part of her cleft emerging above the waistband. I loved the way she didn’t try to cover up. She just lay there, wanton and gorgeous.

The sun’s heat felt divine. I pushed Mom’s legs further apart and she smiled. I picked up a blackberry and put it to her lips. They opened and she sucked it into her mouth. I offered another and it disappeared in the same way but a third was rejected by sealed lips.

I pushed the blackberry, bottom down, against Mom’s left nipple, as if trying to fit it with a juicy toque. It didn’t fit, of course, and disintegrated on her areole, staining it dark purple. Mom laughed and I adorned her right nipple with another blackberry. Two more followed for each one and then I scooped up a handful of berries. Mom’s eyes were open now and she watched but didn’t try to stop me.

Her eyes followed my hand as it moved from breast to breast, hovering, then broke away and stopped above her panties. I used my free hand to tug the panties down until her whole pussy was exposed. Mom lifted her head and craned her neck to watch. I squeezed my hand. Juice dribbled out and dripped onto her pussy. I moved, trailing the stream of freshly squeezed blackberry juice around her mound and then down through her cleft. I grabbed another handful and squeezed it until the cleft briefly filled, then mysteriously drained away.

Mom’s neck was straining with the effort to keep her head up and I cupped the back of her head with a hand to help. I lowered my own to examine the disappearing juice, got very close, then dropped the last few inches and kissed her mound.

“Ohhhhhhh, Jeez.”

I looked at her and kissed her pussy again.

“You shouldn’t do that,” she gasped.

“I know,” I said, and lowered my mouth, stretching out my tongue until it fit between her nether lips.

“Ohhhh, God.”

I wiggled my tongue, sliding it sideways up and down through Mom’s slit. She moaned when I tried to cover her whole pussy with my mouth. I sucked her lips and kissed them, licked all over, and pushed my tongue deep. My finger found her hole and pushed inside. For a long time, I finger fucked Mom and ate her at the same time. My free hand found my buckle and loosened my belt, then unsnapped my jeans.

“No,” Mom said.

“I won’t,” I responded.

“I mean it.”

“I know.”

I jacked my cock and fingered and licked Mom. Several minutes later Mom pulled my hand off my cock and put it on her left tit. My thumb and fingers encircled it and started tugging and pinching her long, stiff nipple. Her hand found my cock and her fingers wrapped around it. She stroked it slowly but when I moaned she jerked it faster and faster.

Our moans intermingled. Hunched over her, I fingered and sucked and humped my cock toward her body. Mom gasped and moaned and said something I couldn’t make out. I tried hard to listen but couldn’t until one phrase came through clear as a bell.

“Come on me,” she gasped.

And then I was. It was like her command released a huge load of sperm built up inside me. I blasted a jet of hot, white jism onto her side and across her stomach. The next rope landed on her tits and the next higher, almost up to her throat. I steered the last two roaps much lower, onto her pussy, and immediately felt that was a stupid thing to do.

“Oh baby, oh Jerry,” Mom moaned, her hips lifting off the blanket as her heels dug in and her legs and torso writhed frantically, thighs closing, then opening and snapping closed again and again.

Still holding my cock, she aimed it between her legs but I had nothing left to give. Man, that Jerry was a lucky guy. He must have taken Mom’s cherry and fucked her a lot; else why would she get so horny just thinking about him? I bet she would have done anything for him. I was jealous, really jealous.

Mom kept holding my cock afterward and that prevented it from softening. When her breathing returned to normal she let it go. She buttoned her dress and pulled it down without cleaning herself, then stood to gather the blanket. Grabbing a basket of blackberries, she set off down the hill toward the house. I grabbed the other three baskets and chased after her. I walked beside her for about thirty steps before speaking.

“How long did you go out with Jerry?”

Mom didn’t answer. I tried again.

“What happened to him? I mean, why did you break up?”

She looked down and then up at the sky and only then I realized how insensitive my questions were. They had had obviously been in love and something catastrophic must have happened to him or she would have married him instead of Dad.

“Mom, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s just not the right time to talk about him.”

“When should I...”

“You know when,” she said, and quickened her pace.

We picked more berries the next morning but Mom didn’t bring a blanket and we went straight back to the house. After lunch, Mom went upstairs and I selected a movie to watch but she didn’t come. I waited patiently, then not so patiently, and finally went upstairs. About halfway up I could see her bedroom door was closed and indecision gripped me. After several false starts, up and down, I found myself descending the stairs. Before I knew it I was outside and heading for the remains of the barn. Working feverishly, I soon built up a substantial pile of wood. Dad was pleased when he got home.

“Just in time,” he said. “I’ve sold a truck full so tomorrow you can help me make a few deliveries.”

I had lost track of time. It was Friday and a long weekend loomed ahead. Mom never allowed any funny business on the weekend or, for that matter, any time Dad was home whether from fear of being caught or out of respect for my father. Killing a morning delivering the fruits of my labor would be easier than hanging around the house so near to Mom but so far away.

We loaded up the old flatdeck and trundled off down the highway. The deliveries took longer than I thought because they were in all directions from our place. It was mid afternoon, between our third and fourth deliveries, when I broached the topic of Jerry with Dad.

“So how long did Mom go out with that guy before she met you?”

Dad shot a confused look at me while making the shift from second to third.

“What guy?”

“Jerry.”

“Jerry? I don’t know no Jerry.”

“Mom did. She when out with him before she met you.”

Dad slammed his arm back in a long arc punctuated with a brief rev of the engine as he shifted into fourth without using the clutch.

“Your mother and I started dating when we were fourteen.”

“Oh.”

The truck’s transmission whined as it gained speed.

“So, at some point you had a break?”

“A break?”

“You know, split up for a while.”

“Nope, never, though the idea occurred to us once or twice after we got married.”

Dad’s arm pushed the long gearshift up and over into fifth. This time he double-clutched.

“Who’s this Jerry anyway?”

“I don’t know. Shelley thought her mother said Mom went out with a guy named Jerry.”

“Nope, no Jerry. She went out with Jimmy McVey before me but only for a couple of weeks, then she lucked out.”

Dad looked at me with a big grin on his face. I laughed and looked out the window. We drove on in silence. What the fuck was going on?

Mom was wearing a nice dress when we got home and the smell of roast beef filled the house.

“What are we having tomorrow?” Dad asked. Normally we had roast beef on Sunday. Saturday was chicken night.

“Steak and kidney pie.”

“Woo hoo,” Dad said. “We made a bundle today, get roast beef for dinner, and steak tomorrow. How can you beat that?”

“There’s fresh blackberry pie, too.”

“And fresh blackberry pie.” Dad grinned. “Let’s get washed up, junior.”

I couldn’t help glancing at Mom with almost every bite of blackberry pie. When she noticed, she blushed and my cock swelled. Picturing her tits and pussy covered in blackberry juice, I actually groaned.

“What’s the matter,” Dad asked.

“Nothing.”

“Something wrong with the pie? Your mother probably spent hours baking it.”

“No, no. It’s perfect,” I assured him, then looked at Mom and said, meaningfully, “Perfect.”

Mom blushed, looked down, and said, “Eat your pie and stop being silly. Both of you.”

The next day Dad and I set off with an empty truck. He had made a deal on one of our deliveries for a lower price in exchange for the right to dismantle a couple of sheds. Given the price we were getting for the recycled lumber, we would make a bundle and he was happier than a pig in shit.

On the way back with a truck full of lumber Dad said, “I think you’ve earned a bonus, Jeremy.”

“A bonus?”

“Yeah, for all your hard work. You’ve done a good job.”

“That’s great.”

In reality, I felt bad given how little I actually worked and what I’d been doing with my time.

“How’s five hundred dollars sound?”

“Five hundred! Dad, that’s too much.”

I felt like a real cad.

“No it’s not. But don’t tell your mother about it or she’ll be wanting to buy new clothes with the rest.”

I felt a little less the cad and his next remark relieved me even more.

“That Shelley’s a real little looker isn’t she? Like her mother.”

“Uh, I guess.”

“You ever get anywhere with that?”

I looked out the window.

“No.”

We had blackberries and French Vanilla ice cream for dessert. I separated the berries and ice cream on each spoonful, savoring the blackberries to the point of licking the spoon after each bite. I had the audacity to glance at Mom’s chest on one occasion and was exhilarated when she snapped a look at Dad and then cast her eyes down, blushing. After dinner, Dad went upstairs to have a shower. He wasn’t as used to physical work as I was and was feeling a little sore. I helped clear the dishes and started to dry.

“I can do them myself. Why don’t you relax and watch a movie?”

“A movie?” I repeated.

Mom blushed again and started scrubbing a plate. I passed behind her to put a glass in the cupboard and leaned down to kiss the nape of her neck.

“Jeremy!” Mom gasped, twisting her neck to look at the kitchen doorway.

“He’s in the shower,” I said.

“That doesn’t matter,” she snapped, implicitly referencing the unwritten rule: no Jerry-related behavior when Dad was home.

I dried another glass and put it away without bothering Mom but kissed her neck again on the way back, catching her by surprise.

“Jeremy.”

“What?”

“You know what?”

“Did you want to talk about Jerry?” I asked.

“Not now.”

I put a plate away and stopped behind Mom. I put my hands on her shoulders and kneaded her neck.

“That’s probably a good idea since there’s nothing to talk about.”

Mom didn’t say anything but her body tensed. I worked my hands out to the edge of her shoulders and then onto her upper arms. My fingers stretched inward until the tips scraped the blouse covering the side of her breasts.

“Jeremy.”

I leaned close and folded my arms around her front.

“There is no Jerry, is there?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, he isn’t real.”

I withdrew my arms but only enough so I could grasp a breast in each hand. I kneaded them instead of her shoulders.

“Jeremy, stop it.”

“Why?”

“Your father...”

“ ... is upstairs.”

Mom didn’t answer and I stopped my kneading but kept hold of her tits.

“You started dating Dad when you were fourteen, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“And you’ve never dated anyone else, right.”

“Not really.”

“You’ve never been with another man.”

“That’s right.”

My hands slipped down to grasp her hips.

“Jerry is a figment of your imagination, isn’t he?”

“I invented him to help you. I thought you’d take advice about how to deal with women if it came from an accomplished man.”

“Why didn’t you use Dad?”

Mom laughed, short and bitter.

“You guys are bored with each other, aren’t you?”

“Partly. We’ve been bored with each other for a long time.”

“There’s something else?”

Mom didn’t answer. I pulled her hips back against me in an attempt to seem firm but something else became firmer as the softness of her butt pressed against it. I ran my hands up the outside of her blouse, following the contour of her waist. My fingers caught the edge of her bra and pushed it up and off her small tits. The thin cotton nylon blend did little to hide the exciting shape of her breasts which fit nicely into my hands, the points poking into my palms giving away her real feeling about Dad’s presence.

“He fooled around on you, didn’t he?”

Mom remained silent.

“You didn’t invent Jerry just for me. Isn’t that right?”

Silence.

“Dad’s disinterest and dishonesty killed him for you, didn’t it?”

“Yes.” Mom’s voice was hoarse.

I started kneading her tits.

“And you needed a companion to replace him, especially during the day when he wasn’t home, someone who was much, much better because you’re not a toy kind of girl, are you?”

“Yessss.”

I pinched her nipples and held them while I turned my mouth into the nape of her neck and nibbled on it. I pressed my bulge into the crack that her shapely buttocks made easy to find through the cotton skirt.

“He cheated on you and now he’s upstairs, unaware that now it’s you receiving the attention you need.”

“Yessss.”

“Poetic justice, don’t you think?”

“Yes!”

I ground my cock against her ass and kissed the side of her face. She turned toward me and I kissed her on the mouth. It was long and intense and I never let go of her nipples or stopped moving my cock against her ass.

“I can think of things Jerry never did.”

“What kind of things?”

“You’ll have to wait until tomorrow to see,” I said.

Her mouth sought mine. When our lips parted her skirt was up to her hip, resting on my right wrist as my hand cupped her pussy. She didn’t object.

“An independent mind isn’t so easily predictable, is it?”

“No,” Mom gasped as my finger slipped through the legging of her panties and inserted itself into her cunt.