The Pinto Friend of Mommy

I remember very well when and how this whole crazy and unbelievable thing started between me and my mother. Yes, that's what I'm talking about, we started having sex "suddenly" and then regularly, as if we were two fuck buddies, as if I was a pinto friend of my own mother. I say it was crazy and unthinkable because we've never plotted anything like that, we're actually quite conservative people and in that aspect we're very similar. Theoretically, we were super-normal, or at least conventional, divorced woman and mother of a family approaching her fifties, a boy who was studying and already working, but it's true that we considered ourselves enlightened people, that kind of perception that you have when you trust each other a lot, family or friends who tend to close themselves off and value each other. The curious thing is that it started to happen or break down, just as we were confronted by the contradiction of what we saw in each other, I mean, at least I was initially. My older sister had been married for about a year or a year and a half, and since then my mother, Olga, had been attending some of her in-laws' family parties, and at those parties it was not uncommon for a cousin of his, Fred, to come home to pick her up or bring her back from the celebrations always late at night. I never questioned my mother's romantic or sexual life, even because in many moments it seemed that she had none, but in those last moments and with the constant company of that young man, I also found myself in a state of alertness or envy, wondering, yes, if something was going on in her life that I didn't know about. And I was. It was a week before the end of the year and the New Year holidays. My sister would travel with her husband to Minas Gerais, because his grandparents live there, and then she made a dinner at his house a few days before New Year's Eve, to celebrate with us and the other relatives from São Paulo. I was there early, greeted everyone and then left, had another party scheduled with the work staff, but I also spent only a few minutes there just to hug the colleagues. I was tired and a little insulted, by the way, during that year I had a troubled relationship with a co-worker, Aninha, but she changed jobs, she broke up with me and gossip spread throughout the office. So I preferred the silence of the apartment where I lived with my mother. The building was old, few floors and few residents, and practically all of them traveled at the end of the year to the beach, meaning that the building looked like a strange mix of spa and prison. It was hot and I was watching TV, when I heard the bang of the electric side gate being triggered, which was strange since that gate is only used by service providers, postmen, employees. I went to the balcony and there I could see my mother and Fred, the two of them crawling through the bushes in the garden and following in the direction of the leisure area, where the playground, the pool and some nice columns to play "spy-con". I felt a sting in my heart of anger and disappointment, nothing so dramatic or novel, but if I was already a bit depressed, to find out that my mother and that boy really had an affair or something like that, and that they were venturing into the social areas of our building like two teenagers, it was a bummer. But if I have a virtue, it's my ability to react...I kicked a sneaker and went down the stairs, I didn't use the elevator to stand on the girl, and without much difficulty I found the two drooped in the swing. My mother was swinging softly on the toy to not make noise in the gears, resting her head on Fred's waist, who was already kneeling to meet her face and letting herself get excited while caressing her back. It wasn't a vulgar sight, and her smile always seemed so innocent in front of the others, and that would be so innocent, wouldn't it? The boy would wrap his hands around her face and slide his fingers in front of her lips, which she would slowly open, pretending to bite them, and they would play like that until he couldn't contain himself and pulled her off balance, and then they would engage in kissing and grabbing. I felt anger, yes, jealousy and indignation as well, but what could I do? I was no longer a bully, I already had some experience with women and relationships, and my mother did not deserve to be the center of a sex scandal in front of the neighbors, I knew that she did not deserve to go through that, no matter how much my anger was at the time. And the anger that I felt was not a small one, because both of them were very excited, which led to a certain lack of control with modesty and tone of voice. Fred asked sharply and with an amalgamated accent - it's incredible and ridiculous how every paulista goes on to say that not even "carioca" when he wants to bank a cafajeste, we have to admit - that she threw out the "jumbón", the "headless" that he kept between his legs. And she threw out, and the hand even had a knight, a finding that almost made me lose control and start screaming, like a gladiator, but I was even more surprised when I saw my mother blowing up that galactic pyre in the middle of the act of adoration, without changing her appearance and revealing that her voice was taken by a lover that she adored? She knew that it would be a rock in the second place, and she knew that it was a form of betrayal, and I was obviously confused by my own experience, because I had nothing to do with that subconscious act of holding the stick, and I knew that it was a betrayal. Fred put his hand inside the white blouse she was wearing, and facilitated by the generous cut of her cut, before long he was taking turns sucking and sucking on those big, purple nipples, and throwing firecrackers on her well-preserved butt, for she in turn had already thrown off her red Indian-style skirt, which made her look more like a Spanish dancer, who, by the way, was the ancestor of our family. I must have decided ten or fifteen times to abandon that scene and that humiliation in the eyes of a son, and return resigned to the apartment, trying to sleep who knows with the help of a bottle of whiskey that I keep hidden, but each piece of clothing is broken and her new Olga is naked, so every naked mother who revealed herself to me simply remained there, despite the teeth being squeezed. What most mesmerized me was her seductive posture, I had never even imagined her seeking that kind of relationship, much less practicing almost outdoors! When she was practically naked, just wearing her red heels and a transparent 5/8 sock, she then grabbed one of the columns of the building as if it were a pole-dance, joined her legs and grabbed her good ass in the most sordid and tight way a man can dream. And invited her guy: "Come on Fred... knock that freak out of me once and for all, I'm coughing so much... drooling here, dear!" How could she be so discreet and exude all that elegance and even humility to so many people, including me, and yet still know how to do and enjoy a classic mischief, snatching the fish caught in her net and then herself reveling in the banquet? And for Fred that vision was also literally a banquet, already out of control of so much desire, he unbuttoned his remaining clothes and gave a blow to the skirt and blouse spread on the floor that were firmly placed right in the middle of the way between his torso and Olga's offered butt. And with a few folds the owner was already lost buried deep inside my mother's beloved vulva, and he clung to her like a privileged puppy, even if it was worth the price of the madonna's size for that dirty ass, and then I could bombard it with a very generous view of her, even with a more privileged position. Mom loved that fornication, and as time went on, she made a spring out of Fred's thighs, taking advantage of it to gain momentum and roll deliciously on that guy's dick, she also moaned indecently and rolled her eyes, and enjoyed the violence of the punches and the slaps she got in the back of her throat. Surprised, but already overwhelmed by the sensations that my mother's sexual exhilaration aroused in me, a mixture of anger and anguish at seeing her possessed and wanting more sex in the hands of another guy, a "any" guy, a young man of my age that I hardly knew personally, and impressed... belatedly perhaps, by the fiery manner and the hidden sensuality of my own mother. I don't know if I was stunned at the time, even because I was completely tense with nerves, but it was at that moment, after all the past adolescence, that I eroticized my mother as a woman, as a tremendous and desired woman. I was raving in my thoughts, but I remained alert, astute enough to follow the unfolding of that cowardice and to watch for the imminent danger of someone catching us...yes, if any resident approached, I would find not only my mother and Fred, but also me, who was watching them on the lookout. And I even had to bench the guard dog, a horned guard dog, but still on guard, because the two were fucking more and more packed with pleasure. My mother made her left arm and leg exchange the column of the building for the trunk of Fred as support, which somehow fortunately for both of them, had enough weight to withstand the effort. The sight of the crowned goat with its eyes, whimpering and whistling sounds from its near neck, still displaying its beautiful sweaty and firm fingers, I knew that it was lurking in the lurch. And I even had to bench the guard dog, a horned guard dog, but still on guard, because the two were fucking more and more packed with pleasure. My mother made her left arm and leg exchange the column of the building for the trunk of Fred as support, which, fortunately for both of them, had as much weight as possible to withstand the effort of the trap. The sight of the crowned goat with her eyes, whimpering and the noises of her near neck, showing her beautiful sweaters, still showing her beautiful sweat fingers, sweating and sweating and sweating, and sweating, and sweating, and sweating, and sweating, and sweating, and sweating, and sweating, and I knew that she wanted to get it, and I knew how to get that she wanted to get it, in her guarding, and I would get it, and I could not get it, and if she wanted to get it, and I could not get it, as much as fast as fast as fast as fast as fast as fast as fast as fast as fast as fast as fast as fast as fast as fast as fast as fast as I could, and as fast as fast as fast as fast as fast as fast as I could, as fast as fast as fast as fast as I could, as fast as fast as fast as fast as fast as fast as fast as I could get, and as fast as fast as fast as I could, and as fast as fast as fast as fast as fast as fast as fast as fast as I could, and as fast as fast as fast as fast as fast as I could as I could, and as, as fast as fast as fast as I could, and as fast as fast as fast as I could, and as fast as fast as fast as fast as fast as fast as I could, as fast as fast as I could, as fast as fast as fast as fast as fast as, and as, as fast as fast as fast as, and as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as fast as, as, as, as fast as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, as, "Come on, I'm going to sit on that swing...and you're going to fit your tasty radish on my spike, you bastard!" and he ran serelep to accommodate himself on the little piece of varnished wood, my mother took a few seconds to detach herself from the column of the building, and walked slowly towards her lover, who was punching the fist ferociously while holding the cigarette lights on and off, which in the end would not even be necessary because just the delicate, rolling walk that my mother described on the way to the swing was delicious enough to keep any engine running. It was good to follow his crossed footsteps, his wide waist and concave belly rolling maliciously, his legs naturally sweaty and drenched with pleasure, yes, at that moment I was walking more than I had ever walked before, and everything was going in a certain way, and to such an erotic mess. And she walked, or rather, Olga rode in "reverse" with her butt at the disposal of the tapas and afagos of her stallion, and with her breasts hovering deliciously in the air and in my sight. Mother demonstrated health and liking for the thing, for in that sprint it was she who did the up-and-down on her partner's big cock, climbing up and burying her butt on the stick with force and rhythm, stopping time and time to masterfully blow her butt into the boy's pelvis, twisting very tightly the tail, making circles with the waist and throwing her head back, making public the pleasure she felt in the bucket and bringing her partner closer and closer to a great pleasure. Occupying that, I could only conclude now that my mother still loved to fuck him in that area. The only problem with this was the loss of the whole treadmill, with the jealousy of the neighbors or the jealousy of the neighbors was in the air, and they were crying loudly and loudly, and I heard the whispering of my mother, and I was ready to hear the whisper of my mother, and then I heard the whisper of my mother, "Ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo "What is that boy??! Are you staggering?? What are you doing there, my young man?" "Mr. Pires...it's a good thing you're here! I was looking for my tennis shoes...I came to take a look at the playground and so on, but I ended up tripping on the swing, it's late and I didn't see straight!" I managed to get a rabbit hutch out of the hatch, and I had to lie, and lie fast. And I lied "shouting", hoping that the two idiots would get something as a warning. "So, boy, is your mother not home?" Quickly and fearfully wondering why he was asking about her, I cut back, "No, she's not! She's not back from a family party yet!" "Ahh...so the young man does not have his mother at home to make a bandage? Poor guy!! hahaha! Let's do the following, come up with me to my apartment, Silvinha, my wife, has a chest full of medicine to lend you, come with me!" And I did, but first I took the opportunity to knock again very hard on the door of access to the social areas, because that was the chance for both of you to disappear from there! I stayed for a few good minutes at Mr. Pires' house, got a random sham ointment on my leg, and even had a cup of coffee that the nice neighboring couple made to please me. It must have been the Christmas spirit infecting the hearts of the people. I thanked them and left, feeling satisfied that I had managed the situation, which in a way I did. I arrived at the apartment half an hour later, my mother was already there, dressed and sitting on the couch, she was clearly waiting for me and with a very serious face, but without animosity in the eyes: "Son...good night. You were here in the building, in the playground, weren't you?" he asked without even looking at me. "Yes, I was a mother... and you, you went back to the apartment a long time ago, you went up the service staircase?" "Yeah, I just got back, I took the service elevator, but no one, not even Mr. Pires, saw me". At that moment she got up from the sofa and looked at me, with a half-ashamed look and with the most conciliatory tone of voice, even a little pleading: "No, son... he's gone! But he, he... or rather, he and I were both guilty for the risk we took in the building, and I ask you a thousand apologies and forgiveness for the exposure! You know Mommy was never one to expose herself and go through shame and... " I interrupted her: "How will I know, huh? That you have never exposed yourself? It seems that you have never done anything, and it seemed that your bouquet even had a spider web or lived mummified! It would be better if you had done a thousand things, with this one, with another or with everyone...but never in the social area of the building, where I live too!" I turned my face and tried to go to my room, but she wouldn't let me, she ran towards me and hugged me already a little emotional: "Dear son, you can be angry, kid with me, but now I only care to say one thing... thank you very much! Now I know that I raised a man with a capital H, responsible... and with a big heart! You have done what you did, helping me and the... the boy, warning us about the arrival of the neighbor, even seeing that we were both behaving badly, was a demonstration of maturity that I will never forget, dear son!" And already crying, she stood on the tip of her feet to give me a wet kiss on the forehead. I tried to remember and emphasize the fact that this was my mother, the woman who always did everything for me, and with that I was summing up strength - it took a lot of willpower! - to say an "All right" and that she didn't need to cry, but as the words were preparing to come out of my lips, I felt a warm and a wet feeling near my groin, Mom moved away and then I saw a fat and thick drop of pork escape from her skirt, hitting the floor, bursting on the wooden floor. She looked at me tied up, I looked at her red skirt now that it accused a sticky stain of gala, of the gala that her husband Fred should have ejaculated in her uterus a few minutes ago: "Ah, so you went all the way, didn't you? Great use you had of my warning, interrupting Pires!" "No, son, you saved us, yes, you were wonderful! But what did you want me to do with the boy, that after a whole night giving me attention, he would go away without enjoying, without having pleasure?" What made me mad, angered me and confused me at the same time! How could I leave the young man without having fun? He was a gas deliveryman by chance, who brings the bottle and takes the reward money? And another, what naturalness! For a woman who has always shown herself so restrained and so distant from involvement with men, and so conservative ... that it seemed to give her ass and win the gala of the "guys" in return, it was a common thing for her. And another, if I "saved" them as he would have enjoyed. "Peraí! If you have retreated, then how did the "boy" have fun in your bouquet there? Did he come up to finish eating you here? Is he still here?!" Mother was embarrassed, but spoke seriously, like someone who is accountable: "No Otávio, he is not here, I would not have brought him here right after all this...we did it in the elevator! Oh my father, now you break the house!" And I wanted to smash the house, and I confess I wanted to smash her face and that bastard's face, too, because they'd gotten back together in a public place, and the fucking guy was dripping on the floor of the house through my own mother's vulva, and my crotch was wet with the fucking screaming in her skirt, "And the lady's got no panties!" I followed her into the bedroom and slowly squeezed myself into the hat, she didn't notice that I was spying on her. She took off her blouse, pulled down her skirt, and almost got up on all fours to take off her shoes. I could see her well-trimmed, smooth-coated, cuddly pube even more heated by the recent fuck, completely licked by the viscosity of the "boy" sperm, she quickly took a few fingers up to the crack to measure the amount of fucking she still had, and I could hear her whispering: "Oh, what a waste! I should have sucked it quickly here in the hall... swallowed it all and there would be no trace! Oh... how stupid I was!" I felt a new wave of rage, voluptuousness and a great sense of non-conformity listening to that! No, the subject could not die like that, each going to his room, she just collecting her panties down there, no lady! I approached her, who even naked turned her eyes to me, I did not know what to say, but I started anyway: "Mom ... " (continued)