Notes: This story is a fairly long story. It is about a mother and son, and it contains elements of bbw and hairy pussy. If those are turnoffs for you, then this is not your story. This is my first story on Literotica. My goal with this was to improve my writing skills and create a compelling love story between a mother and son. Please enjoy.
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The familiar sight of a faded blue garage door crept closer as I came to a stop in a driveway. I remembered getting screamed at for using it as target practice for hockey. Mom made me paint the whole thing over after I had chipped the paint in a few spots. That had been back when I was a 10-year-old cocky brat that thought he was going to rule the world. Only 12 years later at the ripe old age of 22, I realized that probably wasn't going to happen. I stepped out of my crappy Honda Civic with well over 100,000 miles on it that came default for every college student that ever lived. Everything I owned from my old apartment filled the car to the brim. Luckily, I didn't have any furniture, just the paltry amount of possessions I had built up over my 22 years.
I made my way to the front door and rang the bell. The jolly sound of footsteps echoed throughout the house. The door swung open and a large woman greeted me with a smile. I stepped forward and she pulled me in for a big hug.
"Hey, Mom. I'm back to live in your basement for the next 20 years."
She squeezed me harder and said, "If you're still here in 20 years, I'll kill you myself." A pair of lips laid a sloppy kiss on my cheek. She pushed me away. "Now, go move everything into your room while I get dinner ready."
I reluctantly began the laborious process of getting my car unpacked and moved to my room. I swung my bedroom door open and admired the barren room. Everything was exactly how I left it. It sort of felt like I was coming back after a long day of high school. I shivered and shook off the feeling. I went to work rearranging the room, determined to eliminate any sense of my high school days. This was a new beginning, and I was not going to be here for long, I told myself. After my masterpiece was finished, I took in the sight.
"Yeah, that didn't do shit." I said. Not much I could do with a bed, dresser, and two nightstands. Oh, well, better start getting everything out of the car and crammed in here again. As I was walking through the kitchen, I was hit by the wonderful aroma of sautéing onions and garlic.
"My God, that smells amazing. What is it?" I asked.
"I thought I'd make some homemade spaghetti and meatballs. Should be ready in a couple hours."
"Oh, that's so fuuu...rickin' awesome."
Mom laughed and turned back around to tend to the sauce. I looked her up and down, and I noticed she was considerably larger than she had been last year. Honestly, she was the definition of pear shaped right now. Her ass proportionally didn't make sense. I put my arms out in front of me and contemplated if I could even fit them around the circumference of her butt. She had always been a little chubby, or at least that's how I remembered her when I was growing up. The last few years she had gotten bigger and bigger, and this last year she really went overboard. I couldn't blame her though. Dad had left her a little over a year ago. Seems that he had an affinity for younger and thinner women. He had ended up eloping to Florida with this hot young grad school chick that had been his student. The timing made me question if that relationship had started before the divorce. She was only a few years older than me, and the whole thing made me uncomfortable. Dad tried to reach out a few times, but I just more or less brushed him off. It was always a sour subject with Mom. I tried to bring it up a couple times, but she made it clear she did not want to talk about it. I think she may have still been in love with him, but all I could do was guess. All my time for the past 9 months had been completely encompassed by trying to pass my classes, so I only saw Mom on the holidays. She had seemed okay the few times I saw her, and she certainly seemed upbeat today. Maybe she had left her feelings for Dad in the past.
After I grabbed the last box out of my car, I looked at my watch. After two hours of being teased with the aroma of simmering red sauce every time I walked through the kitchen, it was finally time to eat. I set the box at the base of the stairs and joined Mom in the kitchen. She was plating up a huge pile of spaghetti and meatballs. My mouth was watering at the sight. I looked at the giant pile of pasta and wondered if I could even finish it, but I guess I was up for the challenge. She walked over to me, and I held out my hands.
"There's another plate on the counter. You can take however much you want." She said as she walked past me.
'No way can she eat all that,' I thought. I grabbed the rest of the spaghetti and meatballs and joined her at the table.
"This looks amazing." I said.
"Yeah, it turned out pretty good, didn't it? I usually don't slice the garlic like I did this time. I usually just crush it. I think it added a different element to the dish." she said as she went to town on the spaghetti. I had to admit, this was pretty spectacular. I had never spent more than 20 minutes making spaghetti, let alone making my own sauce. All that extra time and effort shined through.
"So I'll probably just be sending out applications for the next however many weeks. Hopefully, I won't be here too long." I said.
"You can stay as long as you like. It's nice to have you back, so take your time, okay? It'll be a good change of pace to have someone to talk to at home. Usually, I just ramble on during a show without realizing I'm not talking to anybody. It could be real embarrassing if anyone was here, but I guess if someone was here then I wouldn't be talking to the tv."
"Thanks, Mom. But for real, with meals like this I may never leave." If there was one thing she could do, it was ramble on about whatever had crept into her head. Most of the time it was endearing, but occasionally I wanted to tell her to shut up. I took her in as she filled up on spaghetti. She had her long dark brown hair tied back in a ponytail. She had a slight double chin and her face looked a little chubby, which, despite her weight before, hadn't happened until now. Her skin had always been ghostly pale. I guess she didn't fancy going to the beach at her weight, which was a shame, because I always thought she was beautiful. She always had the most amazing eyes I'd ever seen. They were a gorgeous baby blue, and they seemed to make her smiles ten times more infectious. Her breasts had only gotten bigger this past year. Which I wouldn't have thought was possible, because they were already enormous. I honestly felt bad for her bras. I looked down at my half empty plate and then to Mom's plate. It was nearly empty. God, she wolfed that down quick. She was pouring herself a second glass of wine and tipped the bottle towards me. I graciously accepted a glass and finished off my meal. I figured I should probably do the dishes since Mom cooked, and boy did I hate dishes. I guess that's one of the reasons why I never cooked. I heard the tv turn on as Mom sat down pouring herself the rest of the bottle of wine.
Soon I was back in my room and browsing my laptop while laying on my newly positioned bed. I had no interest in looking into jobs tonight, so I decided to just watch some porn. I got a flashback of my nights in high school doing the same thing after putting off my homework for yet another day.
The next day I woke up at the crack of noon. The first five hours consisted of me browsing job listings and talking myself out of putting in the time to apply. Before I knew it, it was 5:00, and I was on the couch in the living room flipping through the channels. I heard the garage door and not long after Mom was walking through the front door.
"I think I'm having déjà vu," she said, "I can't even remember how many times I've walked in on this scene in the past."
"Ugh, don't remind me. I've been trying to shake that feeling since I got here."
"What's so bad about that? Didn't you enjoy those days?"
"I just don't want to get back in the same routine as I had in high school. Wasn't all that productive."
"Well, you spent all day applying to jobs, didn't you? How many did you apply for?"
Then it sank in that I didn't apply to any. "Ughhh, my God. Maybe I am falling back into my old ways."
She let out a hearty laugh, "How about we go grab some dinner? There's a nice place that opened up recently. They have a tasty chicken sandwich. It has a siracha maple sauce, pickles, and a side of waffle fries with seasoned sour cream."
I felt my mouth start watering, "Holy crap, that sounds good. Yeah, let's go." I rushed to take a shower while Mom got ready. We ended up getting a table on the patio outside. There was a swanky fireplace right next to us and young couples littered all the tables. This place was certainly happening. Mom ordered a fruity cocktail, and I got a craft ale.
"When did you find this place?" I asked.
"Oh, a few months ago Donna, you remember Donna, don't you? She's the one that would come over every once in a while for drinks. Blonde. She's Tom's wife."
"Sure," I said. I did not remember Sarah.
"Well, anywho, she wanted to have her birthday party here, so a bunch of us got together. She tried to drink the whole party size margarita herself. It didn't go well. That was about the time Carrie was getting a divorce and --"
"That sounds great!" I said, hoping to interrupt the impending monologue.
"So why didn't you apply to any jobs today? I thought you wanted to get out of the house as soon as possible."
"I mean, I wanted to. All I did was look at jobs for about five hours, but I kept talking myself out of each application."
"Why?"
"I don't know. Some of them I didn't think I'd have a shot at. Some I didn't think would want me because of my degree. Others I just thought I wouldn't like the area."
"Sweetie, you have to put yourself out there. You'd be surprised at how many openings get filled with people who think they don't have a shot. Plus, I know you'd do great in any interview you get. You just have to have a little more confidence. I know we have an opening in the sales department. I might be able to put a good word in for you."
"Thanks, but I think I'll try to find a job on my own."
"Oh, don't want your momma's help. My big man wants to do it on his own." Just then the waiter walked over with our food.
"Thank God." I said as a big juicy chicken sandwich stared me in the face. Mom had ordered an entire loaded baked potato in addition to her sandwich.
