Home Schooling 2 by James Forrest

It was near the end of summer, and I’d been reluctantly counting down the days until I’d have to go back to school. On Saturday, I hopped out of bed as soon as I woke up. Barefoot, I padded down the hall. My mother’s bedroom door was usually open, but this morning it was closed. It wasn’t locked, and I quietly opened it, intending to sneak into bed beside her and wake her by caressing her breasts. I had the door only halfway open when I realized there was someone in bed beside her. I carefully closed the door.

My parents had divorced more than two years before that summer. She had started dating right away. I remembered that there had been a few men around on Saturday or Sunday morning, but until now, I hadn’t thought about what that meant.

I joined my brother at the TV but kept listening for sounds from the bedroom. I was eating a bowl of cereal when my mother and a tall blond man came into the kitchen. She said his name was Thomas. They chatted while she made coffee and scrambled some eggs. I went back to my bedroom and the book I’d been reading. My brother came in and dressed. He said he was going to go ride his bike.

Thomas left about an hour later. I heard her go to her bedroom. I followed her. She was making the bed as I came in. She looked up and smiled. She turned from the bed to face me when I walked to her. I put my hands on her blouse over her breasts.

She put her hands over mine. She might have been going to pull them away, but I pushed past her hands and began to unbutton her blouse. She kept her hands on her blouse for a minute before dropping them to her sides. I turned her around to undo her bra. I dropped it on the floor and unbuttoned her skirt. It fell to the floor. I pushed her panties down to her ankles, and she stepped out. She pulled the covers back and climbed onto the bed.

I went back to the door, closed it, and locked it. Next to the bed, I took my clothes off and crawled on the bed. I lay on her, slipped my penis down her crease, and entered her. She was very wet. I thought that might be because Thomas had been in her that morning. The idea of her with him excited me, and I quickly arched my back and thrust hard in her.

I lay on her for a minute before I asked her if she had done that with Thomas. She was quiet for a few seconds before she said that she had. That answer made me hard, and I slid down and into her again. Maybe she had done it so much with Thomas that morning that she wouldn’t be able to come with me, but soon she was pressing herself hard against me with every thrust. I sped up and pressed her harder. A few minutes later, she arched her back, moaned, and her insides gripped me tightly. That pushed me over the edge, and I pressed hard in her as the waves of pleasure passed through me.

She was dating regularly, and sometimes we’d have to skip one of our mornings, but she managed to take me to her bed at least once each weekend. If a man stayed the night, we’d catch up in the afternoon. If she stayed away overnight, I’d go into her bedroom when she got home.

We moved to a bigger apartment, and Mark and I each had a bedroom. That made it easier for me to slip into her bedroom at night. If I was still awake when she went to bed, sometimes I’d go watch her undress and spend a few minutes in her bed. She never refused me unless it was her period. A few times she came to my room.

When she had been with a man, it excited me. I’d ask her questions, but she didn’t want to give me any details. One Friday, she went out with Thomas. I expected that he would spend the night. After my brother went to bed, I turned down the TV, turned off the light, and moved my chair near an open window. As I expected, I heard his car pull into the driveway. I turned off the TV and went to her bedroom. I slipped into her closet and left the door open wide enough for me to see into the room. I was sure that hidden in the clothes and the shadows, they wouldn’t see me.

A few minutes later, they came into the room. Almost in front of the slit I was looking out of, Thomas took her in his arms. They kissed for what seemed like a long time. He reached behind her to unbutton her dress. She held him while he took her dress off and unfastened her bra. When it fell off, her cone shaped breasts with her thin nipples stood out. He held her breasts and fingered her nipples. She undressed him while he fingered her nipples. When she pulled his underpants down, his erect penis stood out. He unbuttoned her skirt, and, as it fell to the floor, I saw that she had no panties on. I wondered what they had been doing earlier that evening. He kissed her, held her bottom, and pressed his penis against her.

They went to the bed and pulled the covers down. He pushed her onto the bed, and she crawled forward. She turned toward the head of the bed. He knee walked up behind her and ran his hands over her bottom. She wiggled her bottom back and forth. The table lamp put out just enough light that I could see that she was glistening wet when he parted her and paused to look. He leaned forward, and I watched his hard penis enter her. They rocked back and forth as he thrust in her. Slowly his tempo increased. She moaned. He pumped harder. She twitched. He pulled her hips and pressed deeper. She moaned. He kept a steady pace. She wiggled her bottom and panted. He pulled her hips harder and went faster. She cried out, arched her back, and her body shook. He pushed hard and held himself in her, grunting.

They lay together and appeared to be going to sleep. That is when I realized the flaw in my plan. I needed to stay in the closet until I was sure they were both asleep. If I ever did this again, I’d bring a stool so I could sit while I waited. My legs ached before long. It was over an hour before I slid the closet door open enough to slip out. I crept slowly to the door. It opened quietly, and I held the knob turned until I could release it slowly after closing the door.

They didn’t get to breakfast until late in the morning. I figured that meant they’d done it again when they woke up. She’d put on a blouse and skirt to fix breakfast. After they ate, she followed Thomas to the door where they had a long kiss, and he ran his hand along her side.

I waited for her to return to the bedroom. She cleaned up the dishes, read the newspaper, and, finally, left for her room. I hurried behind her. She turned as I entered her room. She was standing in almost exactly the spot they had stood in last night. I went to her and kissed her. I tongued her deep and held the kiss for the same time they had. I unbuttoned her blouse and began following the same script I had watched. I led her to the bed and pushed her toward it. She crawled forward, and I followed her as Thomas had. She was in almost the same position she’d been in last night. I crawled to her I rubbed her bottom just as he had and waited for her to wiggle her bottom. I had to wait longer than he did and was about to give up on that script item when her hips wiggled under my hands. I leaned forward and pulled her cheeks apart. She was very wet, and I wondered if some of it was from Thomas. I leaned forward and entered her. I recalled the image of Thomas thrusting into her and matched the tempo of his initial thrusts. She pushed back with her whole body. I slowly increased the tempo just as he had. She moaned. I pumped harder. She twitched. I pulled her hips and pressed deeper. She moaned. I kept a steady pace. She twisted her bottom and panted. I pulled her hips harder. She cried out, arched her back, and her body shook. I pushed hard and held myself in her.

I figured she probably wouldn’t remember what had happened last night because she and Thomas had had done it at least once this morning, but when she turned around and lay on the bed, she had a strange look on her face. I moved closer and held her breasts. I fingered her nipples until they got hard. We did it again. This time I lay on her. I figured that a different position would erase any odd feeling she might have. I went back to my room thinking on the idea that my mother had two different penises in her today and might have come three or four times. I knew that I’d always be able to recall seeing her breasts swaying as Thomas pounded on her bottom.

Through the school year and the next summer, we fell into a regular pattern. Saturday and Sunday mornings were mine unless she stayed the night with her date. It was on a Saturday about midsummer, when Mark came out of his room just as I was leaving her bedroom. He followed me into my room. He closed the door and stood for a minute before he asked me what was going on. He said that he’d seen me slip into her room several times, so I shouldn’t tell him some story about this morning.

I couldn’t think of what to say, so I took his hand and led him to her bedroom. She was still in bed with the covers pulled up to her neck. She looked up as I led Mark to the side of the bed. He gasped when I pulled the covers down exposing her nakedness. I reached over and cupped her breast. She stared at me. I think there was a question in her eyes. I answered that look when I took his hand and put it on her breast while I rubbed the other one. I fingered her nipple, and she pressed forward. I left him fingering her nipple and slipped out of my pajamas. I lay next to her. I covered her bush with my hand and pressed against her. Mark slid his pajamas off and crawled onto the bed. His penis was hard and sticking out. She reached out and took him in her hand. After she rubbed him for a minute, he started to thrust into her hand. She spread her legs, and I motioned for him to get between them. He knelt between her thighs. I pulled her knees up. Her bush opened, and she lay with her wet opening before him. I pushed him forward. He leaned over on his hands, lowered his hips, and I watched my brother’s hard penis slid into my mother’s wet opening. Like my first time, he pushed himself in and out for only a short time before he cried out and pushed hard into her.

He lay next to her and cupped her breast. I had already come twice that morning, but my member was hard and calling to me. I crawled between her legs and entered her. She was hot inside from Mark and pushed hard against my thrusts. Having her second son in her must have excited her because she came after only a few minutes. She tightened around me and cried out. I held out for a few minutes, but soon I too cried out and felt my cum shoot into her.

Mark had been watching us, and his penis was hard again. As soon as I rolled off, he took my place. Like what had happened with me, it took him longer the second time. He took long strokes and pressed himself deep. Soon her breaths came faster, and she pulled him to her. As she devoured his mouth, I remembered the first time she’d kissed me like that. He sped up pumping hard into her, pressing the base of his penis against her bush with each thrust. She arched her back and cried out. When her body thrust up, he held himself hard against her, and his hips twitched.

Both Mark and I gave up TV on weekend mornings. The one of us that got up earlier would go to her bedroom, but I don’t think either of us was able to get through our second time before the other one would be there waiting for his turn. I let him have some extra time alone because I knew that she had to teach him all things she’d taught me. We took turns during the week. When she went to bed, one of us would usually visit her for a session.

I’m not sure where she found the energy to date. With both of us having her on the weekends and one of us almost every evening, I would have thought she’d not be interested in dating, but most Friday nights, she went out. I had to explain the alternate program to Mark the first time the door was closed on Saturday morning.

Sometimes she didn’t go out on the weekend. Then we’d sleep the night beside her. When I was the first to have her and come in her, I’d be asleep before Mark finished. In the morning, I’d sometimes wake up to him thrusting into her. I particularly liked it when she was on her hands and knees, and he was taking her from behind. I could take one of her breasts in my mouth and feel it pull against me with each of his thrusts.

At the end of the second summer, she started dating James. He became a regular thing. Instead of spending the night on Friday or Saturday, James stayed the weekend. Often during the week, my brother and I would call for pizzas when she stayed late with James. James was putting a dent in my activities with my mother. I liked him, but I liked being with her. I took to going to her bedroom on Sunday afternoons when she came home.

Finally, one Saturday she met with my brother and me. James was going to move in with us. She thought it would be great for us to have a father again. Even though we both liked James and liked doing things like camping with him, I’m sure she knew why we weren’t enthusiastic about this arrangement.

James moved in. He kept his apartment for a while, but he slept every night with my mother. Fortunately, he traveled for business from time to time. When he was away, Mark and I spent the nights with her. When he was gone during the week, we had to wake up early to get in a session before she went into the shower and got ready for work.

Sometimes he left for a business trip on Sunday afternoon so he could be at work early Monday. As soon as his car left the driveway, Mark and I would lead her to the bedroom, help each other undress her, and race each other be the first one undressed and between her legs. If he’d ever come back for something he’d forgotten, he’d have walked in on my mother on her hands and knees with one of her sons pumping his penis in her from behind while the other son knelt in front of her as she sucked on his hard member.

After a week without a session, we’d be hoping for a business trip.

In my senior year, my mother planned a trip for us to visit colleges. We’d be visit colleges for a week and then spend the weekend in New York City. The hotel reservations included a roll-away bed for me, and I made sure we mussed it up, but I spent the week sleeping with my mother. We’d get up early, and I’d make her come at least twice before breakfast. We’d visit the colleges in the morning, travel in the late afternoon, and go to bed as soon as we checked in. We’d have dinner and spend the evening making love. With that break for dinner, we could get in at least two more times in the evening. After my first summer, that was the longest and best time I had with my mother.

When I went away to college, she’d visited for a day or two during the semester. I’d go to her room as soon as she checked in and spend the night with her, but three days was the longest trip she made alone.

At the end of my junior year, she came up to tell me that she was going to marry James. We spent most of that weekend in bed. On the last night, she told me that she planned to be faithful to James and that this was the last time we’d have sex. I’d been about to tell her that I had a fairly regular girlfriend and was thinking about being monogamous. We laughed to find that we had both struggled with the same thing, but we were both glad that the other one would accept the end of our sexual relationship gracefully.

We made long, slow love that night and were up early the next morning to pleasure each other one more time before she left for the airport.

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