A Drink With Mom

I lost my job during Covid and once the stimulus checks ran out, I ended up moving in with my retired, widowed mother who is 67 years old. I'm 36 and divorced. With my current situation, I'm not the happiest guy, so I've been drinking more than I usually do. My mother enjoys her booze too, so the two of us have been drinking fairly heavily at times.

My mom is a little vain. She spends a lot of time trying to get her makeup just right. She dyes her hair -- nothing too brassy -- but a soft brown to hide her graying roots. And she likes to dress up, spending more than she should on dresses, nice slacks, coats and pretty blouses. At home, she wears elegant nightgowns and good quality robes -- nothing ratty or worn -- while we have our evening cocktails.

As her only son, we've always had an affectionate relationship, with lots of hugs and joking around when together. The atmosphere is always relaxed, a bit uninhibited. Whenever I'm taking a shower, she often comes in to use the toilet and will sit there chatting with me until I'm ready to come out. At times, when we watch TV together, and usually after a couple of drinks, she'll sit close to me, sometimes running her fingers through my hair.

One evening, after dinner, I made some cocktails for both of us while we watched TV on the couch. We ended up browsing through Netflix and found some foreign film that turned out to full of soft porn that was borderline graphic. It was not the greatest film, but it had a bit of everything -- bisexual, lesbian, oral, anal and even some BDSM. We had several drinks by the time it ended. I was feeling extremely horny and planning a quick getaway to my bedroom to masturbate. I looked over at my mom. She was looking flush.

"I've never seen a film like that. So many different kinds of sex," she said finally.

I chuckled. "Well, wait to you see proper porn. It's a lot more graphic than that."

This was plenty graphic for me," she said. "Makes you feel horny, doesn't it."

I saw my mom looking at my crotch with its visible bulge.

I blushed and nodded. My mother was sitting opposite from me on the couch. She was wearing a nightgown and a robe. I noticed her hand was absentmindedly touching her upper leg, almost as if she had an itch to scratch. The booze had loosened my inhibitions and at that moment, I felt that I wasn't looking at my mother but an attractive, older woman who was in heat. Just like any normal adult.

"It does make you think about it. Sex, I mean. It's been a long time since..." My mind drifted and I stopped talking.

"It's been a long time for me too," she replied.

I hadn't thought of that. I realized she probably hasn't had sex in years, while for me it's been several agonizing months. We stopped talking. My mother took another sip from her cocktail and leaned back on the couch. Her arms were open and her legs slightly parted. She continued to touch the top of her thigh. I could feel my heart beating faster and my face grow warm as my penis throbbed. I leaned towards her, loosened her robe, opening it up to reveal her nightgown. I slipped my hand underneath it and touched her upper leg where her hand had just been.

"What are you doing?"

I didn't reply, but I looked at my mother's eyes and she looked at me. She wasn't cross or disapproving, but just questioning. My heart was going like a jackhammer. But I continued to gently stroke her thigh, then I ran my hand up to her belly, which was warm, and continued up until it touched her breast. It was soft and saggy, but still a full-sized breast that gave her a nice shape despite her age. I cupped it and could feel her nipple begin to stiffen when I ran my fingers over it. I continued to caress her breasts. She continued to look at me, but made no effort to stop my fondling. Her eyes were glassy from drinking, but I sensed she was feeling the same as me. I lifted her gown and pulled it up so she was fully exposed now.

"Jimmy, no... I don't know..."

Everything happened fast. Somehow, I got my clothes off and was kneeling in front of her on the couch. I pulled her down so she was lying on the couch. My fingers went to her pussy, which was thick with wet pubic hair . Our eyes locked on each other, each of knowing what was happening, knowing our mutual primal lust and desire was at a fever pitch, and knowing what would remain unspoken.

I didn't hesitate any longer. In an instant, I was on top of her and inside, fucking her slowly at first, but firmly. I buried my head into her shoulder and she stroked my hair as I humped her. I could feel my mother's legs wrapped tightly around me and could hear her soft sighs of pleasure, like a soothing voice in my head.

Probably because of the booze, I managed to keep going, despite my heightened state of excitement. My mother let out a little grunt with each of my thrusts until her breathing became more ragged. The grunts turned into words whispered into my ear. "Oh God...Oh yes!" I sensed her growing passion, that wonderful moment when we start to lose control at the peak of pleasure. She shuddered as she had an orgasm, letting out a long soft groan as her body vibrated. It was my turn now. I breathed hard into her shoulder and felt her legs grip tightly around me as I gasped, shooting my sperm towards her warm, wet, velvety womb. Even though it only lasted less than 10 minutes, the sex and orgasm were the most intense I had experienced in years. I remember laying on top of her, physically wiped out, but my mind going off in a million directions.

***

The next morning, we both slept late. I had finished making coffee when she came into the kitchen wearing the nightgown she had on last night. She looked disheveled, as if she had a restless night. I knew she wanted to say something. I figured out what before she opened her mouth.

"Jimmy. Last night. It was nice. But we can't... you know..."

I decided to play it casual. "Mom, we're two grown adults. We both have desires, urges. What happened, happened. It was natural. It has been so long for both of us. It makes perfect sense it happened."

She started to protest, but I detected a lack of conviction on her part. I got up from my chair, walked over and gave her a hug. I held her close. It was a maternal and warm hug between son and mother. But then, I slid my hand down below her backside and cupped her soft cheek. I let it rest there as I continued hugging and then moved it around front and caressed her through the gown.

"No, Jimmy. We shouldn't..."

I kept my hand where it was as I hugged her, stroking her softly. I could feel everything through the light material of her gown, her hair, her puffy lips, a wetness. I caressed her more firmly. She let out a sigh and any resistance melted away. It was all I needed to hear. I knelt down and lifted her gown. My tongue pressed between her lips, now engorged and so, so wet. She opened her legs and let me in.

My hands moved up her legs, and I placed them on her rear, pulling her body to my face, pressing my mouth, tongue and nose into her. I smelled her soft aroma and found myself quickly wet to the chin as her lubrication ran into my mouth and down my face. I found her clitoris, bigger than expected, and gently sucked on it. My mother placed her hands on my head, holding me, caressing me, as she moaned deeply; eventually those moans turned into cries as I felt her legs buckle and her pelvis thrust back and forth repeatedly. Finally, she tried to push my face away, her legs giving way, and almost falling to the floor.

"Oh my God! I've never had that. With your mouth...sucking me like that!"

I stood up and held her in my arms, letting her catch her breath as I embraced her. "I love you mom... Have some coffee."

I went upstairs, took a shower, got dressed and the headed outdoors. As I passed the kitchen, I could see my mother sipping coffee and reading the paper. She was humming a tune.

***

My mother has been living in the same small house for over 30 years. It's on a quiet side street in a seaside town, where tourists and beachgoers throng in the summer, but goes quiet in the off season. I headed down to the wharf, where I lit up a cigarette and had a smoke while watching the fishing boats unload their catch.

Standing there in the damp air, with the smell of rain coming, my mind was far away as I watched the gulls circle the incoming boats, looking for something to eat. I felt a murmur of guilt. I couldn't help it. Modern morality says what happened last night was wrong. And yet, when it happened, it felt so natural. Two lonely people, seeking some companionship that has become intimate. So what if it was between mother and son. I felt a physical attraction for her that, looking back, had been there for so long, as her only son. And she didn't say no. And she seemed to have come round to the idea that it was okay, despite her initial misgivings.

I headed down to the docks and checked out the cod and flounder. But instead, bought some scallops, my mother's favorite seafood.

***

Dinner seemed normal , my mom cooked the scallops with some sides and I poured the wine, but there was sexual tension underneath the surface. The conversation seemed a little forced at times, the same with the laughs. I cleared the dishes and washed up.

"Why don't you mix up a couple of cocktails while I get into something more comfortable," said my mother, who quickly turned to hide a blush and went upstairs. I mixed up some vodka martinis in a shaker, pulled down the shades in the living room, dimmed the lights a bit and put on some quiet jazz -- that smooth, soft kind. About 15 minutes later, just when I was beginning to wonder if something was wrong, I heard my mother come down the stairs and I turned her way.

"Oh wow! You look awesome!"

She stood at the entrance to the living room, blushing like a school girl, wearing a purple negligee. It had a V neck line that plunged down to her navel; the cups were lace and the rest of it was sheer, allowing me to see the G-string she was wearing.

"Haven't worn it years. I...I've put on a few pounds, so it's a bit tight..." She quickly came in, sat down on the couch and asked me to pour a drink. It was one of those lacy, frilly negligees, borderline Fredericks of Hollywood. I could see the full swell of her pendulous breasts; the sheerness showed off her body. When she turned to sit down I could see her rear end easily. It suddenly crossed my mind that she had worn this for dad many years ago. Now, she was wearing it for me. Once again, that unspoken taboo thought darkened my mind for just a moment, but then dissolved as I felt my lust beginning to build.

As much as I wanted to pounce on her, I could tell my mom wanted the moment to linger. I poured her a drink and one for myself. We sat at opposite ends of the couch, looking at each other. I could see my mother had put on some makeup, including lipstick. She looked incredibly sexy. She crossed her legs and began to flirt with me, asking questions regarding the movie we had watched the other night.

"No, mom, I've not had a bisexual experience," I sighed. "But yes, I've done anal sex with my ex and other women."

My mother blushed a little, but her eyes sparkled and she uncrossed her legs, opening them a little, as I described a bit what that kinky experience was like. Clearly, she had never done anything like that. Meanwhile, I couldn't get over how seductive and sexy my mother looked in the negligee she was wearing. The lace cups accentuated her buxom and pendulous breasts, and the plunging neckline down to her belly button just seemed to be teasing me to explore what lay below. Unlike last night's quick and drunken romp, mostly in the dark, I found myself taking in everything that made this moment so arousing and taboo at the same time.

It was also becoming clear that my mother, seemingly reluctant and a bit guilty about had happened the night before, had gone full-in on the pleasures of our more intimate relationship. Moreover, it seemed to have reawakened the inner flirt in her. She was clearly enjoying the role of being seductive and the fact that she was controlling what was happening. I realized we were going to sit on that couch, with her dressed like the most desirable "cougar" in town for as long as she wanted. I looked and I talked. I had an aching erection. I was ready to move on.

The one thing holding me back was whether to kiss her. If she was another woman, I would have long ago moved closer and would be putting my tongue in her mouth. But for too many reasons, I hesitated. Instead, it was my mother who made the next significant move. She pulled herself next to me, and began to run her hands through my hair, a habit of hers since I was a young boy. It made me blush and feel a bit embarrassed, but then I put my arm around her waist and smelled her warm, maternal aroma. I slipped my hand up and cupped her breast. It full, swollen and soft. My fingers grazed her nipple and I could feel it stiffen almost immediately. She nuzzled my neck and murmured, "Oh Jimmy, you are my pride and joy."

We still didn't kiss, but I whispered that it was time to take things to the bedroom. We both stood up, drained our drinks and headed upstairs holding hands. We both undressed quickly, feeling a bit shy as we did so, and then lay side by side on the bed.

There we were. Mother and son. Naked. Together. Aroused. My head pounded with feelings of guilt and embarrassment along with excitement. It was weird and wonderful at the same time. Even though we had slept together the night before, it seemed distant and not so real, the experience clouded by too much alcohol. Tonight was very different.

"Oh my. You are big! I didn't see last night, though I did feel you," she laughed. I blushed deeply, but let her touch and hold me. She seemed fascinated by my cock, cradling it in one hand, petting it with the other. As she did, I reached out and caressed her breast. Suddenly, I felt myself shudder.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing, I just realized the last time I saw your breasts and touched them, I must have been a baby."

"A toddler, actually," she replied. "I enjoyed nursing you, so I let it continue until well after you were walking and eating solids. Your dad didn't like me doing that, but I didn't want to give it up."

Her words lingered in my mind and relaxed me. There was something maternal about it and it made me feel more at ease. I lay back on the bed, watching my mother fondler my erection. And then, she leaned over and began to suck on it. I had waited for this moment too long. I love oral sex -- giving and receiving. She did it gently, licking and slowly getting used to sliding my member in and out of her mouth. I closed my eyes and felt the room swirl as my body tingled. She began sucking more rhythmically and began to have a sensation that I knew should wait. I gently pulled myself away.

She smiled. "Too much?" I nodded.

Mom sat up and straddled me. Lifting her hips, she grasped my penis and let herself down. We were now connected. I looked up and saw a face full of desire that was beautiful. Once again, my mind struggled to take in what was about to happen. My mother, on top of me, my penis inside of her. Both of us naked, aroused, wanting desperately to copulate like lovers.

She slowly began to move her hips up and down, and as she did, she let out a sigh. I placed my hands lightly on her hips and then moved them up to her breasts. Touching them was magical. I imagined for a second myself as a child nursing. My mother seemed to sense what I wanted to do, so she leaned forward and I raised my head and placed a nipple in my mouth and began to suckle on it. I felt a wave of nostalgia, of maternal love and connection. But the connection went deep. My penis in her vagina, her nipple in my mouth. We were truly together in the most intimate way possible. Mother and son.

The sensual warmth of my mother on top of me was intoxicating. It was fascinating to watch her face as the passion grew from the thrusts of her hips, pushing herself deep into me. From time to time, she would murmur, "feels so good..." And then I watched her face redden, her eyes closely tightly and felt her fingers dig into my shoulders as she shuddered. Gasping for breath. She lay on top of me.

"Oh my god, Jimmy. Oh my god..." Her voice trailed off. We turned sideways. Her head lay on a pillow next to mine. My aching , throbbing penis still within her. She kissed my face, overcome with emotion and kept her legs wrapped tightly around me. I rocked a little back and forth, continuing to create friction with my hard penis in her. I sighed and reached out and held her breast in my hand and then brought her nipple to my mouth as I gently thrust into her.

"Cum, Jimmy. Shoot your sperm into mommy." I felt her fingers run through my hair and then her hand holding me tight. I reached around and pulled her close, my hand on her rear. We rocked back and forth, our bodies copulating and joined in heated passion.

"Give me your sperm, Jimmy. Shoot it, baby."

And I did. I heaved and let out a moan as I began ejaculating into her. My mother let out a sigh of satisfaction, as she felt my penis trigger its release of jism. I let go of her nipple, breathing hard, feeling each spasm like it was going to be the last. But they kept coming, and as they did I turned my head slightly and my lips brushed my mother's and I kissed her softly. And she replied with a more passionate kiss, as I continued to throb more slowly within her until finally there was no more.

We held each other like this. Our sweaty, breathing bodies pressed tightly together as if still locked in passion, unwilling to let go. Our lips touching with gentle kisses. I caressed my mother's breast, gently squeezing it, feeling the happiness of the moment. And slowly, I drifted off to sleep as did my mother.