Don't Go

Mum Incentives her son not to move out.

A special thanks to ChiefHal for helping to proofread and ensuring the story is in decent shape.

Don't Go

Chapter 1

"What's it going to take to make you stay? Do I have to show you a tit?" My mum said.

"It might be a start." I replied cheekily.

This was a long, ongoing argument with my mum. OK, the tit thing was new, but the argument wasn't. And I was sure she wasn't serious.

I was 20, working and wanted to move out. OK, I knew I'd struggle financially, but living at home with just my mum now, was hard. Dad had walked out ten years ago, and I don't think anyone really missed him. My sister, who is now 23, moved out at 18 to go to uni, and effectively never came back. Apart from a few visits.

I felt like mum was trying to keep me as her baby and refused to accept I was a grownup. Dad had been a drinker, but never a drunkard. Which is about the best thing I can think to say about him. And as a result, mum refused to have any alcohol in the house. Not that it stopped my sister, but that's another story. I could cope with that, or work around it, but the real reason was girls.

My mum refused to let me bring any girl into the house. Let alone stay the night. It's one thing if you're 18 and can't bring a girl back, but as you get older saying your mum won't let you. Makes you look like a mummy's boy. My friends were saving to get a deposit on a house and we'd all pile in together. It would be basic, but sometimes the need for sex overrides the other creature comforts of home.

I was standing at the kitchen sink rinsing out a glass with my back to mum, when she said 'Fine!' in an exasperated tone.

I turned and goggled at what I saw. She was wearing an ankle length towelling robe, but most importantly, she'd pulled one side open and was exposing her left breast to me. I blinked and tore my eyes away. Mum was staring at the ceiling.

"How long?" escaped my mouth, and I was shocked I'd said that.

"30 seconds."

"2 minutes, surely," I countered automatically, without thinking about it.

And she glanced at me. It was something of a family trait, negotiating like that. Although never for such a prize.

"1 minute and not a second longer."

I suppose I should describe mum first. She's 43, curvy without being fat. Short, and as it turned out with amazing tits. OK, I'm assuming the other one was just as good. The breast was easily a full C cup, perhaps even a D. As I watched her nipple rise to a stiff little gum drop, it made my mouth water.

"Time's up." She said and covered up before hurrying off.

"That was never a minute," I called after her.

Well, that was a turn up for the books. I don't think I'd ever seriously thought about mum like that before. She was just mum. She'd worked in the same accounting company since before I was born. Taking a few years off when I was a baby. She dressed smartly for work, but usually changed into something baggy and comfortable as soon as she got home.

I shook my head and tried to reassure myself that she'd actually done that! It seemed almost too alien to wrap my head around. And by the time we sat down to watch some Saturday night TV together, I'd pushed it to the back of my mind.

However, mum came in from the kitchen with a glass of wine. Which was new.

"I suppose you're going to expect something like that as payment for you not moving out every Saturday from now on?"

My mouth opened, but nothing came out. I was going to say, of course not, or many other denials. Instead, I muttered it hadn't been a full minute. She laughed and flipped a spot of wine at me. I pretended to catch it in my mouth, and we sat back to watch the TV.

From time to time, I found my eyes wandering over, to see her next to me. My gaze dropped to look at her chest and remembered the impressive breast from that morning. I was sure mum saw that, as her cheeks coloured a little, but she didn't comment.

About halfway through the night, she went into the kitchen and returned with another glass of wine. She sat and I couldn't help but notice the bounce of her boobs as she did. But I swear, there was a look of satisfaction on her face, that I'd looked.

We watched the next show, and she stood and said she was going to bed. Then asked if I was going to join her. I smirked, and she blushed, hastily correcting herself about our own beds. I said I'd be up a little longer, and she nodded. Then surprised me and bent, touched my shoulder to steady herself, and kissed the top of my head.

It was something she did when I was a kid, but these days she could only do it when I sat as I towered over her. Of course, when I was a kid, I'd not just seen her naked boob, and having them just in front of my face, reinforced what I'd seen.

As she walked off, I swear she had a suppressed smirk on her face. OK, that was a weird day. But it seemed only to be the first.

Chapter 2

With mum drinking wine at the weekend, I risked bringing home some cans of beer. I got a disapproving look, but she said nothing, when I ensured she had wine in as well.

Normally I don't pay that much attention to mum in the evening. We rarely said more than a few words together, so it was Wednesday before I noticed the change. She wore conservative blouses and skirts to work, but always changed when she got home. Usually into a jumper or sweatshirt. But on Wednesday, I noticed she still wore her work clothes. But something was off about the way she moved.

"Mum, are you wearing a bra?" I asked and regretted blurting it out.

Mum's cheeks flushed, but she sat and continued to eat, as if I'd not said anything. However, as I watched, I saw the definite bulge of her nipples pushing at the material.

"Why?" I asked eventually.

"If I have to get your attention to stay, I figured I'd need more than just Saturday mornings."

Not knowing what else to say, I said, "Thanks!"

"Really?" She looked down. "But I'm an old..."

"Stop right there, mum." I said with a sternness I'd never used on her before. "You're not old. You are more mature. But from what I saw, you outclass any of my girlfriends."

"Really?"

"Yeah. You really should get another guy in your life."

It was something my sister had said for nearly a decade, and I'd come around to the idea, as I got older.

"But I have you." She said and squeezed my hand. Not for what I was thinking about for her; she didn't.

On Thursday, I was eager to see her walk into the kitchen braless, and offered to help prepare our meal. I know it makes me sound like a bad son, that I need unfettered boobs to help, but they're boobs!

On Friday I got a text to say she'd be a little late as she was having a drink after work for somebody's birthday. I was disappointed but prepared our meal, feeling a little guilty that I'd been freeloading around the house a while.

She was closer to two hours late when she walked in, and I watched as she carefully hung up her jacket with the precision of the drunk. As she turned to face me, I was astonished. She wasn't wearing a bra, and her blouse was a little sheer.

"Did you go to work like that?" I asked, nodding at her bust.

She flushed and shook her head.

"No, we were in the bar and the coaster under my G&T stuck to the glass. It fell into my lap, and I jumped and splashed my drink over my blouse. I rushed to the bathroom to take it off and my bra was soaked and stank of gin. I was able to dry my blouse under the hot air dryer, and Clair said I should tuck my bra into my handbag."

I grinned and nodded. Clair was the youngest and wildest of the women mum worked with, so it proved how drunk mum was, to go with what she said.

"I bet you were popular back in the bar?" I queried.

She blushed and then nodded with an embarrassed grin.

"Everyone was looking at me. I didn't know where to look."

"I bet they did," I muttered.

"Poor old Henry, he kept looking and then looking away. Obviously embarrassed for me, with my big old saggy boobs on display."

"They aren't saggy, mum." I replied, and before I could stop myself, I'd cupped them in my hands. Lifting them slightly to show her.

She froze and looked at me wide eyed. Oopsie. God! They felt good in my hands. But I removed my hands casually.

"Dinner's ready." I said and walked away as if nothing had happened.

"You made dinner? I expected to come home and have to start with you following me with your tongue out."

'I might have, but not for food,' I thought.

We ate, and I teased her a little about the men in the bar and Henry. He worked with her and was about her age, divorced, and somewhat shy. I hinted that after her performance he might ask her out now. She looked like she'd not object but was too set in her ways to ask him out herself.

It was a little surreal teasing mum while we both knew I was ogling her breasts, partially visible through the blouse. I knew mum's cheeks weren't just flushed from the booze. Her nipples appeared to have been hard from the moment she'd walked in. I was a little disappointed that she headed to bed after eating.

I was awake early on Saturday and not happy to be. I played football on and off for a local pub team and I'd received a text late at night asking me to play. It was always the last minute, which annoyed me the most. I was in the kitchen finishing my coffee, when mum walked in and seemed surprised to see me.

She was wearing a navy-blue robe I'd never seen before. Possibly satin or silk, with some black embroidery over the chest. But most notable, was how short it was. It probably ended 3 inches below her bum.

"I've not seen you wear that before." I said, and she looked down.

"Going through some stuff and found this packed away. I think I had this before I met your dad. It's a bit small."

"Compared to that thing you usually wear, yeah. Dye that old robe brown, and it's a good stand in for a monk's habit. That's far nicer. You look great and if you don't mind me adding. You have amazing legs."

"You've seen them before."

'Not that much,' I thought. But I said, "Not often, and I'd say the sun hasn't seen them in a quintillion years."

"They aren't that pale, are they?"

I mimed being blinded and groping about.

"Football?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Yeah, I'd better go."

"So, you want your payment now or later?" She tried to sound casual.

I frowned until I realised what she meant. I wanted to say it was a joke that got out of hand. Then I remembered how she seemed to get some kick out of it. If she was digging out clothes she'd not worn in years. Perhaps she was reconsidering dating, and if so, I should encourage her. Which sounds better in my head than asking to see her tits again.

"Now, I assume. You never were patient."

"Neither are you," I countered.

She stepped close and pulled the robe open, exposing the right breast fully to me. I let out a moan of pleasure and she sniggered.

"Men!" She chuckled, and the slight wobble did wonderful things to her smooth flesh.

She tried to act like it was an unpleasant task, but if she was so against this, then why was her nipple rapidly hardening?

"What are you thinking right now?" she asked suddenly.

"That I hate I have to go to football."

"Seriously, if I'm doing this, I deserve a truthful answer."

Fuck!

"I'm thinking of a rapidly expanding list of things I'd like to do, but you'd kill me if I did."

"Like what?"

Oh hell! "Starting with something like this and getting worse from there."

I leant in and placed a light kiss on the upper slope of her exposed breast. Forgetting that my beard hair would brush over her nipple and areola. Mum gasped but didn't pull back. So, I sat back, then she moved back a little.

I glanced down and nearly groaned again. In pulling the robe open to expose her breast, it had freed the belt slightly. Allowing a gap to form and allowed me to make out her pubic hair region. She was trimmed, but quite hairy.

I quickly stood, and she backed off another step. I headed to the door.

"If you go, you lose your time." She said,

"That's not fair! You did kinda sprung it on me." I turned back to see she'd not covered up, and the gap below was wide enough to make out the hint of her slit through the hair.

I stepped back toward her hurriedly. A hint of worry gathered in her eyes.

"You are beautiful, mum." I reached out and pulled the cloth over her exposed breast. OK, I might have slightly copped a feel, slightly.

Then I leant in and kissed her lightly on the lips. It wasn't all passion and stuff, but we'd never kissed on the lips before.

I sucked at football, as I was too distracted, but the other side was a player short, so it evened out.

The next week passed fairly uneventfully. Yes, mum would be braless, and sometimes she wore sheer blouses I'd never seen her in without a camisole. But we chatted and talked far more freely than ever before. Grown up stuff about life, rather than family and the house.

Chapter 3

I'd been awake for a few minutes on Saturday morning. Trying to decide if I should head to the bathroom or make use of my erection for my favourite pastime. I'd gone for option 2 when the door swung open. Causing my hand to shoot out from under the covers at about the speed of sound. Mum came in, carrying a tray.

"Have you heard of knocking?" I said.

"How?" She gestured to the tray in her hands. "You haven't forgotten you promised to help me in the garden today?"

I groaned and nodded.

She came closer and paused as she saw the bulge under my covers. I snatched the tray to hide it.

"I wanted to feed you up for today." She nodded to the toasted bacon sandwich and coffee.

She came around the other side of the bed and slipped in next to me, making me nervous. I was naked and hard, and she was wearing the short blue robe.

"Unfortunately, I need the toilet and I'm naked," I said. Moving the tray onto the bed between us.

"I won't look." She replied and turned her face away and covered her eyes with her hand.

It's mum, right? She won't look, surely. I jumped from the bed, but as I pulled open the door, I looked back to see she was looking in my direction. Her fingers over an eye, wide open. Crap! I was naked and extremely hard. Her eyes widened seeing that, and I fled to the bathroom.

Returning afterwards wrapped in a towel.

"That was naughty of you. Peeking like that."

"I figured if you were seeing me, I should see you."

"I'm seeing you in instalments, not everything."

"Oh right." She said, seeming to remember her strange deal.

I pulled the tray onto my lap again, while she pulled her robe open and exposed both breasts at once.

She did it so easily. I couldn't imagine this was my mum from a few weeks ago. Mum reached out and nibbled a little bacon from the edge of my sandwich.

"You get to see them until you finish breakfast."

"You realise I could eat this so slow; the coffee would congeal."

She sniggered, and the effect was glorious to see the wobble.

"OK, three minutes. Otherwise, they go away forever."

I gulped some coffee and took a bite from my sandwich and stared. Mum looked around the room, but I could tell she was watching from the corner of her eyes. And the semi smirk on her face, told me I wasn't the only one enjoying this game.

When I finished, mum took the tray from me and slid from the bed. As she stood, I got a flash of her bum as the robe had pulled back, sliding across the bed. However, as she walked to the end of the bed and headed to the door, I saw the bottom had pulled open again. It gave me a full view of her pubes. This time, I could clearly see her slit.

She must have seen my gaze, but with the tray at her waist and her breasts still out, she looked confused. Until she opened the door, and the waft of moving air must have told her what happened. She stood in the doorway facing me and froze at the realisation. Then, a moment later, she turned and bounded down the stairs.

With the tray in front of her, I was worried she'd fall, so I jumped from the bed and wrestled on boxer shorts. My erection struggled to remain inside. I followed mum to see her rinsing the dishes in the sink, but her hands were trembling.

I wanted to reassure her and reached out to hold her shoulder. Planning on leaning over and pressing my cheek to mum's. However, the universe had other plans. In mum's haste, she'd splashed water or something on the floor, so as I stepped close my left leg shot out from under me.

I slammed into mum and pressed her hard against the edge of the sink. To stop myself from falling, I gripped the sink with white knuckles while mum gripped the far side of the sink. As the pain from stubbing my toes into the kick board subsided, I realised the situation was worse.

Before we get to that, I should remind you that mum was wearing a short and tight robe, and I was just in boxer shorts. I just wanted you to understand, before we slot the jigsaw pieces together, and I meant the pun.

With one leg off to one side and the other knee bent to stop myself from falling, not only was I pressed up against mum. I was pressing up against her ass from below. My erection was pressed between her thighs and up against her bum.

"Sorry," I muttered and managed to get my feet under myself. But not without seemingly pressing deeper, for a moment.

"It's OK. It was an accident, right?" She replied. Sounding a little flustered.

"Yeah, I slipped." But I was struggling with the mental image of fucking mum over the sink.

It was a shock, as until then I'd not really imagined mum and sex. She glanced around and saw my boxers.

"If you weren't wearing them, that might have been..." She shivered and then looked the other way. "You slipped on that?" She said, gesturing to the stuff on the floor. "Hand me some paper towels."

I stepped away and tore some off the roll on the fridge. But turned back to see her on her hands and knees. As she stretched her arm out to take it from me, the front of her robe hung open, exposing her right breast to me.

Then she started to rub to clean up the spill, only to find something sticky and rubbed harder. Causing both breasts to swing about and her left nipple popped out. I backed into a kitchen chair and sat, before I noticed it wasn't all about her boobs this time. Bent over as she was and with her knees parted for balance. The robe exposed the lower part of her ass and, more importantly, her pussy peeked through below.

While she was quite hairy, her lips were puffy and very inviting. In only a few moments, I was thinking about mounting mum. Fuck! Or perhaps I should say unfuck, or something. This was mum!

"More towels please." I jumped up guiltily and snatched more, but swore silently, as from directly behind, her arse and pussy looked even more inviting.

I moved around to her front end and squatted down, handing over the towels. She smiled and started working backwards to wipe up what she'd cleaned.

"You're hanging out a bit there, mum."

She looked down, then sat up. Giving me a free look at everything at once before she pulled the robe tight. Then I saw where she was looking and looked down with a sinking feeling. The head of my erection had escaped my boxers. I stood and forced it away, then moved to help her up.

She hugged me and I felt her trembling. "We've gone mad, haven't we?"

"Perhaps," I hugged her tighter and regretted it, as I felt my erection press into her stomach.

Chapter 4

We must have been in the garden from 10 until 4 in the afternoon. I was aching, and I suspected mum was as well. I suggested she shower first, but she asked if I minded her having a bath instead. I naturally agreed and washed my face and arms in the kitchen sink. Then went out to get beer and wine, and something easy for dinner.