Lana was forty, but her eyes were bright and youthful, and her skin free from wrinkles. She had medium long blonde hair which she usually kept up in some sort of bun. She had big, bouncing tits and a wide, meaty ass. Her waist wasn't perfect but stayed slim enough. She was a single mother to one son who was the apple of her eye.
She'd come from the bathroom and just stepped into living room when Derrick arrived home after school and extracurriculars. He called out, "Mom, where are you?"
She could hear him entering the kitchen. "Something smells good. What'd you make?" he asked excitedly.
Lana turned on the heels and joined him in the kitchen. "What? Nothing. Do you want me to make you something?"
Lana grinned proudly in the presence of her strapping, eighteen-year-old son. He was handsome and tall, with adorable apple pie All American type looks. She knew just looking at him with all the love a mother can that nothing about him could ever be wrong or abnormal.
Derrick sniffed the air enthusiastically. "Come on, Mom. Fess up. It smells great in here. What did you make?"
Lana smiled shyly to herself. She'd finally put two and two together. Oh gosh, she thought, what do I say? She hadn't made anything in the kitchen in hours. The smell he was talking about was from the giant shit she'd taken just before he'd gotten home. Lana felt instantly embarrassed for him and wanted desperately to save him the embarrassment of finding this out.
"Okay, I can't keep it from you. Before you got home I went out and bought myself a hamburger. Ate it here at the table. That must be what you smell."
Derrick took another longing sniff of the air that unbeknownst to him carried the odor of his mother's bowel movement on it. "You should have gotten me one. I'm starving and this smell isn't helping. My stomach started growling the second it hit me."
Lana giggled nervously. "I'm sorry, baby. How about a sandwich?"
"All right," Derrick said, dropping his bookbag and slumping into a chair at the table. His spirits lifted as he watched his mom busy herself around the kitchen preparing his sandwich, humming a tune softly as she worked. Looking at her gave him feelings of happiness and comfort. Most men would have just zeroed in on her big, doughy ass in those tight mom jeans. Derrick tried not to.
Lana made herself a sandwich along with his and sat down across from him at the table. She'd shot down his request for chips on the side and given them carrots and celery slices instead.
Derrick watched his mom work hungrily through her plate. She had a carrot stick poking between her pearly white teeth and full lips when he said, "I thought you had a burger earlier. Why are you so hungry?"
Lana froze. "I don't know. Just am, I guess," she answered guiltily.
Derrick gave him mom a look that said he didn't buy it. "Where'd you say you got the burger from?"
"I didn't," she said, choking down the rest of the carrot.
"You didn't have a burger or you didn't tell me where? What's going on here, Mom?"
"I, okay, I didn't have a burger."