All day at work, Eric's mom tried to banish images of her son's penis from her mind. The more she fought it, the more clearly she could see his long, hard shaft with the shiny purple mushroom tip and the tight balls perfectly in place. After breakfast, she had gone into the bathroom without knocking and seen Eric jerking off in the shower stall. "Mom!" he shouted, but it was too late; she had already seen him. All of him.
Jane had no idea Eric, 18 and a senior, was as hung as he was. He was as big if not bigger than most men she brought home at night.
What scared her most was that each time she thought of it, she could feel a tingle in her loins and her pussy moisten. When she got home late that day, she was surprised to find that her panties were drenched. She threw them in the hamper and slid on a new pair.
Eric couldn't stop thinking of his mother. Everything she did around him was sexualized now. She could be cleaning the toilet or baking and still it made him hard. The outfits she wore made him hard; the way she chastely kissed his cheek or forehead made him hard; the scent of her in the bathroom after she had used it made him hard; the sight of her folded undies on her bed made him hard.
It was torture living in that house with her, having a semi permanent hard on around her. Finally Eric confided in a friend about the feelings he was having about his mother.
"Is that all?" the friend said.
"You don't think that's weird?" Eric said.
"Please," the kid said. "If you think that's hot, listen to this. My mom lets me use her underwear to jerk off in. Once she even helped me, so long as I promised not to tell my dad."
"What do you mean 'helped you'?"
"I mean, she jerked me off with her own hand!"
Eric pretended to be shocked but he secretly envious. "How was it?"
"How was it? Are you kidding me, it was amazing. I don't know where my mom learned it, but she knows how jerked me off better than I do myself."
"And she doesn't mind?"
"Hell no. She even said that she'd rather I be doing this stuff at home with her, then god knows where with god knows who, catching some horrible disease."
"Gee, that makes sense," Eric said. "I had never though of it that way before. It's safer."
"Yeah," the kid grinned. "It's safer and it sure as hell is hotter. I don't have to waste my time dating girls and taking them out to dinner. All I have to do is knock on my mom's door, butter her up and let things happen."
"How do you butter her up?" Eric asked.
"You know. All I have to do is tell her how much I love her and hug her and give her kisses and tell her how beautiful she is. It never fails."
"It's that easy?"
"Yup, once you find out she wants it as much as you do, it is."
When his mom got home that day, he met her at the door and hugged and kissed her. She was overwhelmed. "Wow, what do I owe this for?" she said.
Eric shrugged. "I don't know. Just for being such a great mom."
"Ahhh," his mother cooed and she hugged him back. "If you keep this up, you'll get that Playstation you always wanted for Christmas."
But Eric didn't want a Playstation anymore; he wanted her, his own mother.
Dinner was a quiet affair, candle lit with a lot of shy glances shot across the table. Eric's mother couldn't shake the feeling that she was on a date of sorts.
"Listen," she said. "I'm sorry I barged in on you this morning."
Eric shrugged it off. "It's fine. I mean, it's not like it isn't anything you haven't seen before, right?"
"Right," she said, although it was something she hadn't seen before. Her son was hung like a horse.
She hesitated, then said (she couldn't hold back anymore), she said, "How long has it been like that? I mean," she said, "how long have you been," she gulped, "mature?"
Eric was matter of fact. "I guess since last year. I grew a lot that year."
"I can see that," she said, regretting it immediately. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."
"It's fine mom. Chill out. I wasn't going to be a baby forever. Now why don't you draw yourself a bath and relax, while I clean up here."
"That's very nice of you," she said, getting up. "I raised a real gentleman."
You raised a real horny toad is what Eric thought.
As Eric cleared off the table, his mom went upstairs to the bathroom. She plugged the drain in the tub, ran some hot water, lit some candles and started to undress. She threw her dirty clothes into the hamper slid herself into the hot bath. She let herself soak and soon her hand found her clit and pussy and she started to think of Eric's cock.
In the morning, his mother was still wearing her bathrobe. Eric went to her and hugged her. "Easy there, mister," she said, pushing him away. He hadn't realized he had morning wood was pressing it up against his mother. She pretended to be shocked but deep down she liked how hard and big it felt against her tummy.
"Now," she said, "what do you want for breakfast?"
Later that day, when his mom came home from work, Eric put his plan into action. He told her how beautiful she was and how much he loved her.
"Awwwe, why thank you honey."
And then he hugged her and kissed her, which was she was fine with until he tried to kiss her on the mouth.
"What's gotten into you, Eric? I'm your mother. Not some hussy you met at a bar."
"I'm sorry," Eric said.
"I'm really mad at you now. Go up to your room."
Eric did as he was told and sat in his room, hating himself for thinking his mother would love him the same way he loved her. It was foolish of him. Then he heard a knock at the door. It was his mother. She had come to apologize to him.
She said, "I'm sorry I blew up at you. I guess it's been hard on us both since your father left. Let's kiss and make up."
Eric this time wasn't taking any chances so he hugged and gave her just a peck on the cheek. Somehow this felt unsatisfying to both Eric and his mom.
She drew tiny circles on the back of his hand and said, "I guess it's O.K. if you kiss me on the mouth every now and then. But don't make it a habit, O.K.?"
"O.K.," Eric said.
"So what are you waiting for then?"
Eric closed his eyes and leaned in and kissed his mom on the lips. It was a dry and chaste kiss until his mother opened her mouth and kissed him back. instinctively, he opened his and soon they were sucking on each other's tongues. Eric felt his mind drift and forgot completely that the person he was kissing was his mother.
She stopped. "That was my fault," she said. "I got carried away." She bit down on her lower lip and walked away and shut herself in her bedroom. She couldn't believe she had just frenched her own son. It wasn't incest yet, but it wasn't far either. She went to bed, determined not to let her desires get the better of her.
The next morning she was standing in the kitchen when Eric came in. He kissed her good morning on the cheek. She kissed him back, then thought, what the hell, and pulled him close and planted one on his lips. Eric's mind was spinning and as he stood there in the kitchen French kissing his mother his hands, which were wrapped around her waist, fell to her buttocks and this he could hear made his mother moan. Nevertheless she pulled up his hands so they were back at her waist.
"You shouldn't do that to your mother," she said afterward. "Kissing me is one thing; groping me is another."
Again, Eric apologized and went to school. He told his friend about his make out session with his mom and his friend patted him on the shoulder. "She'll be yours in no time. Just make sure you don't cum too early."
Easier said than done, Eric thought, especially considering how hot his mother was.
At work, his mother thought about the scene in the kitchen with her son and how his hands had instinctively reached for her ass. His father was like that, always grabbing for her behind. This made her smile. Secretly, she had liked it and it had made her moan but she didn't want to give Eric the wrong idea. He was her son and he was her mother and that was as far as it went.
That night, when she came home from work, Eric offered to give her shoulder massage. It seemed harmless enough so she said yes and sat at the foot of the couch while Eric sat behind her on the couch and rubbed her shoulders. Her eyes rolled back into her head.
"Wow, you're good," she said. "Who taught you this?"
"No one," Eric said.
"Sure," she said. "Like no one told you how to French kiss."
The deeper Eric rubbed, the more she moaned and the more her shoulders went limp. "It would be a whole lot easier if you took her blouse off," Eric said, surprised by how bold he sounded.
Eric expected she'd scold him, but he was awestruck as he noticed her slowly unbutton her top.
"No peeking," she said, but Eric couldn't help himself. She was down to her bra and from his vantage point on the couch he could down her deep cleft cleavage.
She moaned louder and just when Eric thought she'd turn around and kiss him she put her blouse back on and ran upstairs. Eric was befuddled. What had he done wrong?
Upstairs, in her room, leaning against the door, his mother sighed. Another minute alone with Eric downstairs and who knows what would have happened. She didn't trust herself around him anymore. There was a knock at the door.
"Is everything all right," Eric said through the door.
She opened. "Eric, you're not a little boy anymore and you can't go around kissing and massaging me. There need to be rules."
"Fine. What kind of rules?"
"First no more kissing on the mouth."
"Ok? Anything else?"
"And no more peeking at me."
Eric grinned. "I can't make any promises."
"You will and you will keep to them. Otherwise, I won't let you do this," she said and she put his hand against her breast. Eric couldn't believe what was happening. "Do you like how it feels?"
Eric nodded.
"Good, so does mom. You can use both hands if you want."
Without hesitation, Eric started in with both hands fondling and groping his mother's heavy tits. She'd be lying if she said she didn't like too, but she never let on that she did. She closed her eyes and tried to pretend it wasn't her son touching her breasts.
"OK that's enough," she said.
"Thanks," Eric said.
"You're welcome," she said.