Anna's Journal - a Drunen Son

I am writing you because I want to tell someone. Things happen.

Now, I had been drinking, but do not think that is even a bit of an excuse. I had not been drinking that much.

Next thing I want you to know, and this is important to me. It was not supposed to happen.

I am not that much different than when you knew me years ago. Oh, I am older, but I have always been a bit too concerned about my appearance so even as I hit my thirties I kept in shape. I was careful. I needed no surgery, a careful diet and some exercise kept me as attractive as you remember.

Now, what I want to tell you. There was a party at a neighbor's and the whole street was there. Food was everywhere and there was even more drink. Alcohol flowed freely and even some of the younger crowd was openly drinking and it was ignored. My son was one.

We had to leave the party earlier than we planned as Mark, my husband, had been called in to work. We said our goodbyes and headed home. I slipped into bed - even just a few drinks exhausts me. If I fell asleep or just was in that fog that comes right before it I cannot tell, but a noise told me my son had come home.

Cody was a nice boy, though at 18 I sure hate to call him a boy, but to say anything else makes me feel even older. I sat up in bed, suddenly feeling guilt I did not search around for him before Mark and I had left the party earlier. He had a rough week, well, a rough time all around and I should not have left him at the party. Alcohol and a case of the blues are not a good combination.

I could hear him shuffling around and figured he was fine, but a moment later I sensed there were tears and some moping. I went to check on him... why did I let him drink?

"Hey honey. You ok?" What else do I say? He didn't answer. He sat there on the couch with obvious tears dripping down his face he did not even try to hide.

His high school sweetheart had suddenly ended it, chasing after another boy after several years of what seemed to be a solid relationship. Unkind words were said, and some things posted online that shamed Cody to the core. I had tried to talk with him, but a mother is not always the desired voice in these situations. Our support is too unconditional I guess. The few chats we had ended with him storming off to his room.

"Cody?" Still nothing. Alcohol was not kind to sadness. I moved over and sat beside him. His eyes were fastened to some invisible spot on the wall and I was not sure he even noticed when I sat down.

What do I say? I mumbled words of support, but he just stared at that wall. I put my arm around him and just sat there rubbing his shoulder. I wished at that moment I could say something wise to help him, but I was tired and alcohol had dulled my thoughts a bit.

Finally he turned to me. I won't tell you exactly what he said, this is my story. But it was heartbreaking to hear it. He was humiliated and ashamed and with the alcohol in his system every hurt was magnified a dozen times over. His manhood was questioned, his self esteem was shattered, and as a mother I hated to hear my son had been knocked down so low.

We sat there in silence for a while, his head buried in my shoulder. I felt myself beginning to doze off. Again, I was not drunk but I had a few drinks. I moved a bit and he clutched me closer as if willing me to stay. I rubbed his shoulder, soothing him as I would have years ago when he was a child. The silence continued, and in the dim light of the room I worried suddenly about falling asleep there. I ran through in my mind how awkward it would be for Mark to come home and see me their sleeping with our son in my arms.

As I thought about my husband, my son's breathing slowed for a bit, and I looked down. Problem. Huge problem. My pajamas had come open and my breasts were exposed more than I found comfortable. I hate to say breasts, it sounds so awkward, but not as awkward as I felt. Cody was intently staring at them, as focused as he was on the wall moments before.

I felt a flash of something. Not arousal. Do not think that at all. Anger, shame, extreme discomfort if nothing else. I froze for a moment, and I am ashamed to admit, this is why the alcohol played a factor. My brain was slow. I was drowsy. And I should have pulled together my pajamas immediately, but again, I froze.

Now, before I tell you the next part, please understand, Cody was drunk, depressed, and in a fragile state. I think that is why things happened the way they did.

As I sat there frozen, I repeat that because I want you to know I had not a thought of what to do going through my mind. Just stunned and unable to think. And in that moment, right there in front of me, my drunken son slipped his hands to his jeans and unbuttoned them. As this is happening I wish I could tell you I thought something, but again, I sat there, deer in the headlights with my son's eyes on my chest and mine watching him undo his zipper and pull it out.

Sorry for my lack of words there. What do I say? His dick? His manhood? Call it what you want, it was there, erect and now being stroked. My frozen mind turned to panic. My son was jacking off! While he lay in my arms, staring at my exposed chest. Looking back, a dozen things come to mind about what I should have done. I am sure you are thinking me stupid - I guess I was. But I sat there, unable to process what was happening as he stroked himself. I felt no true sexual arousal at this moment, my mind perhaps had shut itself down from such things.

But truth be told, I could not take my eyes off of his hand as he stroked his... cock. Yes, his cock. As I write this now I visualize it, but at that moment it was not a sexual thing. He was my son. He lay there in my arms and furiously jacked himself and I only watched. I do remember thinking if he would come. I don't know if I hoped it would be over with quickly or if he would pass out before he finished.

He did not pass out. Precum began leaking and for the first time I felt a strange emotion. Not desire, at least not at that moment. Curiosity? Interest? I am watching my son masturbate. But now the sound of his strokes could be heard as the lubricant leaked out of him. His breathing suddenly burst out in gasps, and I stared as he reached his climax. Cum exploded out of his dick and splattered all over himself, some of it landing on my pajama pants.

I realized I had not taken a breath in a while and suddenly I gasped. Any last moments of ecstasy Cody may have felt suddenly disappeared with my gasp. He lifted his eyes to mine and swore. He jumped up and fled to his room, leaving me on the couch, my top open and semen not yet drying on my legs.