"That's okay," Mom replied, continuing her relaxing bath.Nothing similar to that experience ever happened again. My mother's habits never changed, but...mine did. As I got older I didn't want Mom catching me ogle her with my eyes. And I ultimately knew it would be wrong to do so. But this all changed more than a dozen years later.Now at 53, my mother had put on some weight over the last several years. I wouldn't at all call her fat, but she was "thick". Her hips, breasts, thighs and stomach had. The painful part was over, now came the beautiful part, her moans continued, but they had a different tone.Now she was kissing me wildly and her hips were moving to the rhythm of mine, I started to speed up the rhythm just a little, her face had an expression of pain, but her moans were of joy, one of her hands went down to my butt and she pressed me towards her repeatedly, she wanted me to go faster and that's what I did, in a two by three she moaned, making me slow down thinking I was hurting. More

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