This story begins with the conclusion of another story -- A Drink With Dora -- so that readers could have an easier understanding and appreciation of what led to the unfolding events.
When I got home I met mom in the kitchen and handed her the few groceries I'd picked up for her.
"You two had fun together?" she asked smiling sweetly.
"Yeah, it was nice talking over old stories and stuff."
"That sister of yours didn't make you drink too much?" she asked, turning to face me squarely with accusing eyes.
"Not, really, I said," giggling.
Her eyes moved all over my face and it looked like she was suddenly struggling to breathe.
"You look tired ... you two must have talked way into the night ... before going to bed," she said, her eyes suddenly becoming glassy and a look of suspicion clouded her face.
"Sort of," I mumbled, taken aback by her sudden change in countenance.
"Sort of?" she asked, repeating my words.
She looked away swiftly then immediately returned her eyes to my face, the suspicious look seemingly changed to one of anxious concern or worry. It was then that I noticed that she was staring at the bottom of my neck and I suddenly remembered how Dora had bitten and chewed on it, and the emerging hickey mark I'd observed in the bathroom mirror after showering. My head went into overdrive and thinking quickly I held her steady gaze as I let loose a sweet and necessary lie.
"We were only alone during the afternoon and early evening ... some friends of Dora's dropped by ... a few ladies from her office and a couple of guys ... we had a little party that went past midnight ... one of the ladies got so drunk she had to sleep over."
Looking at me steadily, mom exhaled deeply and I could see the relief on her face. It was as if she had let go of a huge burden. She looked at me with a knowing smile and twinkle in her eyes. Her face bore a satisfied and relieved look as she turned away from me to continue with her chores.
My big sister Dora and I continued our relationship with me spending progressively more time at her place; I just couldn't have enough of her sweet body. Mom knew that I was visiting Dora frequently -- she had actually taken the time to question her about it, and Dora, rightfully, did not deny it, but cleverly hinted about her fictitious friend from my earlier lie -- I think mom bought it, but she never-the-less, looked me over searchingly whenever she knew for sure or suspected that I'd been to Dora's and would try to lead me into conversation about my visit, which I handled well, I thought.
Being with Dora so often meant that I had less time for my current girlfriend, Althea, and she started acting up. One day Althea dropped by while I was at home and we soon got into a heated exchange in which she accused me of cheating. Mom heard most or all of it.
A week later mom turned up unexpectedly at Dora's house while I was there. There was a function scheduled for afternoon at my work place which necessitated that staff only worked half day so as to allow for preparations. Dora took time off from her job and we spent the rest of the after-lunch period at her home fucking. Fortunately we had long finished and were all set to leave the house for a restaurant when mom knocked at the door. We took her along and had a nice evening together.
Shortly after, I noticed some changes in mom -- the way she began dressing less conservatively, the way she was now looking at me and going out of her way to be near me, using every opportunity to touch me, and generally, adopting a more lively attitude, like she was now actually living for something instead of just going through the everyday motion of being a housewife and mother.
She began skipping Sunday church and ladies group meetings, and most of all I discovered that she'd started having much more than the occasional glass of wine she previously indulged. I don't think the others noticed that aspect of her change, but I did. Because of her being up under me so frequently I sometimes detected the alcohol smell. I was also the person who secured the garbage bags for disposal every Friday, so I couldn't miss the bottles.
It was only after mom started being consistently careless with the buttons on her blouse and skirts and the draw strings on her wraps and robes, especially when around me and when we were alone at home that a thought crossed my mind. But every time that thought flashed my head, I'd toss it aside. I refused to believe that mommy was sending me sexual signals; not my staunch, church-going, conservative, decent mother. It had to be just part of the newfound lightening up in her attitude.
Then it hit me -- the clever vixen was seeking confirmation of what she suspected was going on between me and Dora. If I took her bait and made a sexual pass on her it would confirm that Dora and I were fucking.
Mom, as stated in the Dora story, was the same five feet, five, and smooth chocolate brown complexion as her daughter. The difference was in weight -- while Dora was slim with just a hint of thickness, due to the round inclination of her limbs, my mother was nicely plump, still maintaining some shape, despite being about one-eighty or one-ninety pounds. Her boobs were just as full as Dora's and her ass because of the extra pounds, was more massive. Also, unlike Dora's likeness for natural afro coils and puffs, mom wore her full head of natural hair, relaxed straight down to her shoulders and around her oval face.
I decided steadfastly not to fall for the bait she was dangling before me. I didn't even allow myself to look closely at the exposed flesh that kept popping up. It was easy because even though I'd been banging my sister I'd never once entertained the thought of getting it on with my mother. She was pretty and sexy alright, but I just didn't think I should allow even the imagining of such a possibility, so I ignored her efforts to hook me.
One Saturday morning, six months after it all started, I was awakened by the sounds of movement in my room. Through half-opened eyes I saw mom moving about picking up clothes and putting them into a laundry basket and then started fixing other things in place. The little silk wrap she was wearing was not tightly drawn, far from it, and I could see some of her dangling big bubbies when she leaned over. I even spied a nipple and navel. When she walked, a good deal of thighs was visible. She started coming toward my bed and I hastily closed my eyes. At that same moment I felt a pressure in my loins and realized I'd awakened with morning wood and it was now being further aggravated by what I'd just seen.
I'd spent most of the past night drinking and fucking Dora -- she'd gotten a little promotion and we celebrated -- I'd come home with a taxi around three AM, because Dora had a mid-morning job related function to be at and would need some rest. I had drunk more than usual, and was still slightly boozed up. The sudden awareness of my hardon as mom was approaching the bed didn't allow me time to turn over or pull a sheet over my boxers, without her realizing I was awake.
I felt her presence over me and I lay still for about two minutes as she stood there, probably eyeing my tented mid-section that refused to regress in the slightest. Instead, it jerked a couple of times. I felt the pressure on the bed as she sat down beside me and shortly after she was shaking my shoulder. I opened my eyes and smiled at her. She smiled back at me.
"Good morning," I heard her say.
"Good morning mommy," I answered.
I rose up onto an elbow. She was looking steadily into my eyes and was breathing deeply. I could smell the booze. Without thinking, I spoke.
