Classical Music

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I heard the strains of the violins as soon as I opened the front door and smiled. Mum was listening to HER music.

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Mum’s music was ‘classical’. She freely admitted that she knew little or nothing about it. She enjoyed it and, in her book, that was all the understanding she needed. She didn’t ‘subject’ Dad and I to it but listened when Dad was at work and I was at school. She’d go to her indoor beach, the conservatory, lay back on her sun-lounger and loose herself completely to the orchestral sounds.

The truth was that Dad and I actually enjoyed the music and Dad would often arrange for us to go to a concert. I was dragged along, at Dad’s insistence, to get some ‘culture rammed darn me lug ‘oles’. When it was usually myself that spotted the up-coming concert in the first place. Mum was delighted and pleased that we were able to put up with it for her sake.

### ### ###

I slipped my shoes off and my slippers on before removing my heavy outdoor coat. Despite the clear blue sky and brilliant sunshine it was still quite chilly. I recognised the piece, Dvorak, Symphony No. 9 ‘From the New World’ usually abbreviated to Dvorak’s New World, I thought it very appropriate for the current situation. wandering through to the conservatory to ask if Mum would like a cuppa I stopped dead in my tracks!

### ### ###

My parents married young and I arrived within the year. Times weren’t hard but could have been easier. Holidays were a rented caravan near a beach where we spent most of the holiday, because it was free. We played bat ‘n’ ball, flew kites and chucked Frisbees at each other. Great fun. I loved it and my Mum was the prettiest lady on the beach. Things improved over time and we started to go to the Continent, a mobile home near a sandy beach with warmer sunshine and warmer sea. Mum was still the prettiest woman on the beach and because it was warmer she wore a bikini instead of her usual one-piece.

Dad died six years ago. Fortunately I’d been working for a few years by then so was able to reduce the financial effect of our loss a little. I became the main bread winner and didn’t complain at all. Mum kept her part-time job and we jogged along very well.

### ### ###

I was just about to step into the conservatory when I saw my Mother. She was laying on the sun-lounger in full bright sunshine. She was wearing big, silly sunglasses and nothing else! Her arms were waving, her head rocking side to side and her feet keeping perfect time with the beat. She was conducting the orchestra, naked!

I stood shock still and didn’t say a word to disturb her. I looked, but looking doesn’t make much noise until the heavy breathing kicks in. Her movements Bycasino were strangely hypnotic. As she moved to bring in different parts of the orchestra or quieten down others her body twisted enticingly. Her full breasts swung left and right. When required her legs moved and, with perfect timing, she ‘played’ the required instrument. It was utterly mesmerising.

The final three minutes or so, with the lulling sounds of the woodwind section, slowed everything down, her hands caressed the air, moving to her naked body as the music flowed back and forth. Her breasts, flat stomach and thighs all received the flowing attention of her fingers and hands. As the music once again built towards the final few bars then her hands worked up her body once more, stroking tenderly across her pussy lips and up over her belly and glorious breasts until, again with perfect timing, she seemed to take up her baton and bring the orchestra back in.

My gaze returned unflinchingly to my Mother’s pussy. With her legs parted and feet gently swaying to the rhythm I could quite clearly see her swollen pussy lips glistening in the bright sunlight. I reached down, careful not to make any sudden movement, slipped my hand into my pocket and attempted to sort out my rapidly growing cock. With every moment it was getting harder to ignore the fact that the woman before me was my own Mother. My growing cock took cntrol of my brain and only saw a beautiful, naked woman, with a landing strip?? My Mother has a smooth pussy AND a landing strip?

That realisation blew my mind and very nearly my load. My Father dead these six years and my Mother has a smooth pussy and a landing strip. I wanted to lick it, taste it and run my fingers and mouth all over it! I wanted to make this beautiful woman mine.

She reached out an arm, languidly and paused the old CD player.

“Hello Darling, you’re home early. Is everything alright?”

She hadn’t turned her head towards me and suddenly realised I was present. She hadn’t made any move to cover herself, nothing. Just a simple question. Then she giggled delightfully.

“Cat got your tongue?”

I dragged my mind back to reality.

I wanted to say ‘no, just your beautiful body and your smooth pussy but instead;

“I’ve been sent home, protective isolation. Underlying medical issues. Working from home for a while, sorry.” I said lamely.

She sat up and swung around to face me, her feet on the tiled floor. She made no attempt to cover anything.

“You’re sorry? Why? Sorry you will be at home with me or sorry I’m naked?”

“Not sorry to be home with you but you’re err…, well… y’know… err…you are err…naked?” I eventually Bycasino giriş managed to get out.

“You’re sorry to see me naked?” said in a semi hurt tone.

“No! Well… that’s not…” I tried.

“That’s okay then,” she said getting to her feet. “I’ll make some tea and you can go and get out of your work clothes then come down and tell me all about it. By the way, that’s very flattering, thank you.”

She didn’t need to identify what was flattering. I could feel it throbbing. Stepping in close she pecked me on the cheek. Did she really brush her naked breast against my bare arm?

The images of my naked Mother walking away from me burned themselves into my brain alongside those of her laying on the lounger conducting her orchestra. At twenty three years of age I’d had lots of girlfriends. Fucked most of them as well. Not one as beautiful as my Mother and I just knew that I was going to make a mess of the bed sheet if I didn’t take some kitchen roll to bed with me.

That would be the first time for a very long time.

I changed and freshened up. When I got back downstairs she’d be dressed and acting as if nothing had happened. I’d be thinking it was all in my imagination. I held the images of my naked Mother at the forefront of my mind for as long as possible which had the doubtful benefit of keeping my cock as stiff and inflexible as a rod of steel.

### ### ###


“Is that Oh, as in Oh no, you’re still naked? Or Oh good, you haven’t dressed?” teased my Mother as I walked back into the conservatory.

She was seated on the long couch. I was standing with my rampant cock clearly erect behind the flimsy material of my jogging bottoms. She looked quite pointedly and directly at it.

“I’ll take that as a sign that it’s the latter, shall I?” she patted the couch beside her.

I sat obediently. I felt uncomfortable. Not because my Mother was naked but because I couldn’t keep my eyes off of her. I swallowed.

“Sorry Mum,” I apologised again, “I’m all of a tiz-was. You’re my Mum. I’m your son and …”

Mum chuckled again.

“…you’ve got a boner and you think I’ll be upset? Let’s try it a slightly different way,” she suggested, “let’s take the name tags off and think in terms of a handsome young man and a forty something woman. Does that make it feel better?” she teased.

Mum’s playing games, I told myself. Is she teasing or offering? What have I really got to loose? Lots! Is it worth it? Would she tease me then get mad at ME if I responded? Would she tease me and get mad if I didn’t?

“Better?” I asked, “is that better in that my cock isn’t so hard if I think of you as not being my Bycasino güncel giriş Mother or is better because my cock is harder when I think of you as being my Mother?” I teased back.

Mum grinned a dirty grin and reached for the teapot.

“I was naked when I met your wonderful Father. He was naked too. Love at first sight, y’know that?” she chuckled, “we spent the rest of that holiday together, both naked as naked could be. Family holiday for both of us. We just clicked,” she said, “and fucked,” she added socco voce. “We got married as soon as we got home. Special Licence. Registry Office. We didn’t want to hang around. Just as well really,” she grinned conspiratorially. “We were naked pretty much whenever we could be. We had an early holiday when I was carrying you. Your Dad said I looked beautiful, naked and heavily pregnant. We had holidays where we could be naked until you were big enough to notice. I was always naked around the house, if possible. When you were big enough to maybe notice I became ‘respectable’.

I’d take you to school, come home and strip off while I did the housework and cooking. I dressed to pick you up and undressed once you were in bed. The only time I’ve worn a nighty in bed is when we were on holidays and you might notice. When you were old enough to go on holiday with your friends we holidayed in places where we could get naked.

Now, even with your Dad gone, I’m naked around the house as much as possible. You coming home early was just, you coming home early. It didn’t and it doesn’t bother me. Does it really bother you?” she asked, looking pointed at my erection again, “well, actually, that’s not 100 percent true,” she admitted, “it doesn’t bother me but I have enjoyed you enjoying looking at me and the boner it gave you. I have also enjoyed the feeling of being enjoyed again. Gives you a boner and me a wet pussy again, d’you really mind?” she finished happily.

My turn to smile and I did, like a Cheshire cat in a children’s story.

“I can see a couple of very minor, possible problems, Mum. If you’re going to walk around naked all the time I’m most certainly going to be walking around with a boner, all the time. Can you handle that?”

Mum’s turn to smile.

“Darling, I’ll handle your boner any time you desire,” she smirked filthily, “second minor problem?”

“Can I walk around naked as well?”

“If you are walking around naked, like your Dad did, and sporting a boner, like your Dad did, you’re going to make my pussy wet, like your Dad did. Can you handle that? Like your Dad did?”

There was a pregnant pause. Like my Dad did?

“Do you think I’m a little over dressed, Mum?”…

### ### ###

Thank you for reading my story – I hope you enjoyed it.

Would you like an Opus 2?

All comments and votes very welcome.

I hope that the global pandemic, that is currently worrying us all, misses you and yours by a country mile.

Stay healthy.

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