Authors note:
Here is my take on a scenario that I find hot. I hope you enjoy reading this. I have edited this as best I could, but please let me know if/what mistakes made it through.
I would like to give a special thanks to Literotica member HeyAll for the valuable input, any remaining errors are wholly mine.
As always, I welcome your thoughts and feedback.<3
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Please do not repost this story without the author's permission.
Also, all individuals engaged in sexual activities are of ages 18 and above.
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It all started where a lot of other bad ideas were conceived, at the bottom of a couple of beer bottles.
I was visiting my parents, needing a break from all the stress of running a startup with my best friend. We are finally at the stage where I could take an extended leave from the business without having to worry that it was going to combust spontaneously the minute I wasn't paying attention. Besides, it was in good hands with my friend and co-founder.
My parents always brag about their twenty-two-year-old successful son and business owner. I feel like I don't deserve the praise sometimes, and a lot of the times I feel overwhelmed by the things which needed to be done for my business to stay afloat. But I'm blessed with incredible, supportive parents. They frequently call and ask when I'm coming to visit, and since I broke up with my girlfriend a week ago, It thought it a good time to make the trip.
I parked in front of my childhood home. The house that my parents raised me in, the door opened, and a greying older version of me walked out to the porch to meet me in a bear hug with a dozen or so of those mandatory hard pats on the back men give each other to show that we are indeed men, not hormonal woman hugging.
"Heya sport, glad you made the drive out," my father said as we separated.
I said, sharing a look of long-suffering look with my dad, "Well you know old man, mom kept guilt-tripping me into coming, the last time she called me she made it sound like you guys have one foot in the grave already and that I needed to visit before you all passed away! And mom looks ten years younger than her forty-two," I took the luggage out of my car's trunk.
"Well, you know your mom son, she was never one to shy away from emotional manipulation," dad said with a rueful laugh.
I eyed my dad's impressive beer gut and the beginnings of double chin and jokingly remarked, "Although I can't say the same about you, pops."
"Let's see you how you look after twenty years and multiple back surgeries," my father retorted half laughing half grumbling.
When we made it into the house, my father said, "Go on ahead and greet your mother. I think she is finishing up dinner. I'll take your bags up to your old room, Darlene made sure it was cleaned and had new clean sheets. She has been excited ever since you called" dad was shaking his head with a rueful smile as he made his way up the stairs with my bag, and I followed my nose to the kitchen.
Inside the kitchen, I found my mother swaying to a song that was playing over the stereo, probably why she did not immediately rush to greet me. It looked like my mom stirring a saucepan while swaying her womanly hips to the tune, so I stood in the doorway for just a minute to admire my mother's beauty.
My mother has always been the woman I compared all the other girls to who I have dated in the past and all others I will date in the future as well. She was my golden standard. She was what I wanted in a woman, my fantasy. I probably have a bigger crush on my mother than what was healthy for a son to have, but I came to terms with it years ago, growing up.
My mother has long brown hair that was at the moment braided in a complicated fashion wich woman just knew how to pull off effortlessly. I know it probably took some time and effort, but to me, my mother seemed effortlessly beautiful. Mom stood a whole foot shorter than my six-foot frame and stayed fit and healthy jogging regularly with the other neighborhood mothers. My mother had the quintessential hourglass figure most women would envy after having kids. With massive natural breasts, a trim stomach and waistline, wide hips and a great bubble but, my mom was drop-dead gorgeous. Her breasts were starting to get weighed down a bit more with age, and her thighs were a bit thicker these days, but it only served to inflame my lust for her even more. Yea I had it in a hard way for my mom, that was one of the reasons I moved out of the house as soon as I was able.
"Hi sweety I did not hear you pull up," mom said and finally turned around and caught me gawking like a pervert in the doorway, well hopefully she thought I just got here. "And my face is up here mister" she admonished me playfully with a smile while pointing at her heart-shaped face and defined cheekbones. Her beautiful green eyes were dancing with mirth as she turned back around and winked at me through the reflection of the kitchen window.
"Hi mom," I stammered now embarrassed for no catching on how the afternoon light played on the kitchen windows. I went over and gave her back a hug taking in her warmth. Mom reached up and back with her free hand to caress my face that was next to hers. I admit to stealing a peek down my mom's sweater before letting go and stepping back.
"Food will be ready in ten minutes, why don't you go grab a couple of beers and go sit with your dad in the den. I will bring out dinner as soon as it's ready, and we can eat there tonight."
"Ok, mom great mom, good idea."
I jumped on my mother's suggestion to put some distance between me and the kitchen before I got caught staring again. Probably at how well that sweater molded to her chest or how those jeans seemed spray-painted on her tight ass, heck even at her cute bare feet.
Mom asked me, concern bleeding into her voice, "Oh, and Jimmy if you could figure out what has gotten into your dad these last few weeks that would be great, make sure to tell me as well ok?"
Mom called me Jimmy and my dad Jim even though we were both named Jim. Jim senior and Jim junior.
"Well, in that case, we need more than just one beer," I winked at mom and grabbed both unopened twelve-packs out of the fridge and made my way to the den where I could hear a game playing over the sound system.
In the back of my mind, I was starting to get concerned. I had noticed the last few months when my parents called they were arguing more, never over anything significant, but it's worse if my dad has stopped speaking to my mom about it. We always talk about what is bothering us with each other. It was one of our family rules. No matter how embracing or trivial we think something is, we do not keep it in and let it fester. So I was on a mission to get my dad drunk off his ass tonight and tell me what's up.
After dinner, most of the night was a blur. But, I could remember more of it than I wished I had. It was a rollercoaster of beer-fueled emotions as my father opened up about what was eating at him. My mother wanted another baby. Having me out of the house affected my mom more than she thought, and she missed not having someone to care for other than my father. My father tried his best to do his husbandly duties -if you could call trying to impregnate someone as hot as my mother a task- but no matter how many times they tried, they did not conceive. So my kind mother did what she always does, and took to blame herself for not being able to get pregnant. My dad feeling ashamed, got his sperm tested in secret. It turns out my father has a meager sperm count, and it was virtually a miracle that I was even here today. As my dad was spilling his heart, we got steadily drunker to mask our discomfort, as men usually do when it came to talks with too many feelings involved for our tastes.
I remember joking about almost getting my previous girlfriend pregnant after the first night together that I could probably impregnate mom by the first try as well and that the baby will even look like them. I know I'm one of those stupid drunks. My drop in my IQ tends to correlate with how much liters of beer I drink, directly. Luckily -or was that unluckily?- I got that from my dad, and he was not upset. In fact, he laughed and said that my mother would enjoy making babies with her son as she always loved that I checked her out. He said I made her feel young, and she thought my crush on her was cute, given that I tried to hide what was so apparent to everyone else. I remember a strange gleam in his eyes when he asked me if I would like to sleep with my mom, and if I wanted to give them another child to raise. He looked at me at that moment like I was the answer he was looking for as if a weight lifted from his shoulders.
Flustered, I said that mom would never agree to that because it would be incest! My father denied that my mother would object but said she did not have to know. Now it is a testament to how fucked up we were at that point to consider tricking my mom into thinking my dad knocked her up when it was, in fact, another man, her own son's seed that did the deed.
After a moment of drunken silence, my dad clapped a hand on his leg in a Eureka moment and said he had it all figured out. My dad was going to tell my mom that he had read online that tying up your wife and blindfolding her helps enhance the experience and will make him orgasm with more force inside her from the visual stimulation and give his swimmers an advantage in reaching a fertile egg. In the state we were in, we thought it was the best idea to have been thought out in the history of humanity. I remember dad said I should get to bed and rest up because my mother started ovulating tomorrow and I will have to be in peak condition.
I recalled all that as I lay here in bed and questioned my poor life choices over the pounding in my head. I got up and took my bag of toiletries, and a new shirt and jeans and headed for the adjoining bathroom. Luckily for my pounding head, I found a couple of aspirins in the medicine cabinet above the sink. After shiting, showering, and shaving - in that order- I went down and was greeted by the smell of bacon as well as my parents at the kitchen table, dad reading the newspaper as was his habit in the mornings, and my mother laying out fresh toast for me with crispy strips of bacon and one of her homemade hashbrowns. I grabbed a cup of steaming coffee from the machine while mumbling something that resembled a "good morning" and kissed my mom's temple taking in her womanly scent. I noticed she had on her comfy sleeping gown that unfortunately hid most of her delicious curves. I made my way to my seat. My father lowered his newspaper to give me a happy smile. Not at all looking like someone who got smashed with his son and concocted a plan to have his son impregnate her.
"Morning, sport, you look terrible this morning," he laughed at my hangover. "Don't tell me your old man can hold his drink better than a young man like you, eh?"
"Hardy har, old man. Laugh it up, I don't have all the years of drinking experience you have and neither the beer gut like yours to show for it," I retorted with a mock baleful scowl.
