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As I said, my seduction of my mother took six months. I didn’t know it would take that long when I began, but I was aware that I needed to be careful because if I pushed too hard, I’d lose any chance I might ever have. So I proceeded slowly and cautiously, even though it was difficult, more difficult than anything I’ve ever done.
I started by giving her hugs and kisses – usually on the cheek – every chance I got. She got hugged and kissed whenever we were alone. When I first saw her in the morning, she got not only a hug, but also a “friendly” kiss on the lips. I did the same thing when I left for work every day. At first she seemed a bit tense about being kissed on the mouth, but after a few days, she was obviously looking forward to it. In addition to my morning and afternoon kisses and hugs, I began hugging her and kissing her other times during the day. I wanted her to get used to being hugged and kissed for no real reason.
As much as possible, I tried to add other ways of touching her to what I was already doing. I loved running my fingers through her hair and did that a lot. She seemed to like that almost as much as I liked doing it.
“You really like my hair, don’t you?” she murmured one day while I was combing my fingers through those silken tresses.
“You better believe I do,” I told her. “I’ve liked playing with your hair ever since you taught me to help you cut it.”
She giggled softly. “Most boys wouldn’t think that was so neat,” she said.
“If their mother was as gorgeous as you are and had pretty hair like yours they would have,” I replied. “If they didn’t, there was something wrong with them.” I bent, brushed her hair aside, and kissed her neck. I liked how the silky strands felt against my face. Mother shuddered when I did that.
“Did you like that?” I asked her.
She nodded her head. “When you do that, it makes me feel kinda tingly inside,” she said softly.
“It’s supposed to,” I told her.
She turned her head and looked at me. “But…should…should you…you know…be doin’ stuff…stuff like poker oyna that…to…to me?” she asked.
“I’m making you feel good, right?” I said.
My heart was starting to pound. Her comment told me I was getting to her in exactly the way I wanted to. “Why would it be wrong for me to make my mother feel good?” I asked.
She shrugged. “I…I dunno,” she murmured. “I…I was just wonderin’, you know?”
I nuzzled into her neck and kissed her there again. And again I felt the little shudder run through her. “Well, don’t worry about it,” I told her after I finished nuzzling her. “I’d never, ever, do anything to hurt you.”
She looked up at me, smiled, and took my hand. “I know you won’t,” she told me.
By the end of the first month, my mother had to be the most hugged, kissed, caressed, and tickled woman in the county. And I’d started to notice that she was actually leaning into me a little when I hugged her, and it was starting to feel as if she was returning my kisses with more and more forcefulness, too.
I was sitting at the breakfast table one morning, nearly a month after I’d begun my seduction efforts, when mother, who was standing at the stove, surprised me with a question. “What’s it supposed to feel like when…?”
I turned to look at her and was surprised to see that her face was bright red. “What’s it supposed to feel like when what?” I asked.
I didn’t think it was possible for her face to get redder, but it did. “When…when you…when somebody…when they do…um…sex?” she asked.
It wasn’t a question I expected to hear, but it certainly was a welcome one. I stood up, walked over to where she stood, and took her into my arms. “It is supposed to feel better than anything ever felt,” I told her. “It’s supposed to be the best feeling in the world.”
She pressed her face against my chest. “Did…when you…when you did sex with them girls at college…did…was it…was it…like that…with…with them?” she murmured.
“It felt really good,” I told her. “But I’ve never had canlı poker oyna a sexual experience that is as wonderful as I’ve heard described in things people have written.”
She leaned back in my arms and looked at me, wide-eyed. “You…you mean people write about doin’ sex?” she asked. “You’re puttin’ me on, right?”
I shook my head and smiled. “It’s called erotic literature,” I explained. “People write stories, sometimes books, about what it’s like to be in love and to make love.”
“Where do you find stuff like that?” she asked.
“There’s a lot of it on the internet,” I told her. “There are other sites about love-making, too. I saw one called ‘The Clitoris.com’ a while back. It has a lot of information about love-making and is written by and for women.”
She looked puzzled. “You mean it tells you how to do sex?” she asked.
“Sort of,” I told her. “But there’s more to it that that. It’s a guide women can use to learn about their bodies, and about love-making.”
“Are there a lot of dirty pictures and stuff?” Mother asked.
“There are some illustrations,” I said. “Things that can help women learn more about what pleases them and how to do it.”
“Do…do you…um…read…that…that stuff…a…a lot?” she stammered.
“I like some kinds of erotic literature,” I told her. “Stories that are well-written and believable. Some of it is junk.”
Mother had a very sad look on her face as she gazed into my eyes and shook her head. “There’s a whole lotta stuff I don’t know about, isn’t there?” she asked. “I mean, I’m just a dumb old country hick, right?”
“You’re not dumb,” I snapped. “Don’t ever let anybody tell you that. You’re a bright woman.”
“Then how come I don’t know much?”
“Because you haven’t had the chance to learn,” I said. “Remember what my teacher wrote on those papers you wrote and I let her grade back when I was in high school?”
She blushed a little and nodded.
“Miss Dixon said they were good, didn’t she?”
She nodded again. “She said they were ‘well written internet casino and insightful,'” she murmured.
I smiled, thrilled that she still remembered the compliment verbatim. And that it was a good memory I’d arranged for her to have. “See?” I said. “You’re not dumb, and it isn’t just me saying so. It’s just that there are things you haven’t had the chance to learn.”
“You mean like about doin’ sex?”
“I mean about making love,” I said. “Would you like to learn?”
“I guess,” she said. “But what good will it do me? Your father, he ain’t never gonna learn anything about that.”
“Let’s forget about him for now,” I said. “If you want to learn, I’ll help you.”
“OK,” she said.
“I can download and print information for you to read,” I said, “or you can use the computer and read it there.”
“Print it for me,” she said. “I…I still don’t feel right usin’ your computer.”
I can’t tell you how excited I was feeling. My plan was working, and things were moving forward…and Mother was setting the pace. “OK,” I said.
I printed out a lot of information from the web site I’d told Mother about and gave it to her. “There’s a lot of information here,” I said. “Take your time. And you can ask me if you have any questions.”
She took the sheaf of papers and held them gingerly, as if she wasn’t sure whether she wanted them or not. Then she smiled. “It’s a good thing your father can’t read, isn’t it?” she said.
“It sure is,” I said. “But there are some pictures in there. If he sees them he’s going to wonder what you’re up to.”
“Pictures…” She leafed through the pile of papers and turned bright red again when she saw some of the drawings of people making love. “Oh, Lord!” she exclaimed. “I don’t know ’bout this.”
“If you want, I can white the pictures out,” I said.
Mother, still blushing, looked at me and smiled. “Don’t do that,” she said. “If I’m trying to learn something, maybe the pictures will help.”
I grinned back at her. “Maybe,” I said. Thoughts of what she might learn from both the text and pictures were causing considerable turmoil in my groin.
I wondered what would happen when my mother read the information I’d given her. I knew what I hoped would happen, but wasn’t sure whether it would or not.
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