My paternal grandfather gave my dad a job in his company once he'd finished high school, a job where my dad was at least able to make a decent wage and provide for his young family. I know now that my dad harbored a life-long grudge against my mother; blaming her through constant passive-aggressive behavior for what to him was his lost youth.
During my birth, my mother experienced some unforeseen complications. The doctors decided on the spot that her tubes needed to be tied for safety's sake; resulting in my mother being unable to have any more children. Close to depression in the months that followed this, she turned to her church for solace. And to my father, that was fine, a place where he could trust her not to make his life any worse than he felt it already was. And so, our life went on like that for many years as I grew up.
I knew my parents didn't have an ideal relationship by any means. I grew closer to my mother as the years went by. As a teenager, I started to see her in a different light, not just as my mother, but as a beautiful desirable woman. Having given birth to me at such a young age, I started to notice how much younger and better looking she was compared to most of my friends' mothers; except Connor, whose mother, Victoria, was absolutely gorgeous.
My mother always dressed very conservatively, something I'm sure my dickhead father had something to do with. But I could tell that beneath those plain colors and boring styles lurked an absolute killer body just waiting to get out. My mother wasn't skinny by any means, but she wasn't fat either. Her lush body just looked......I don't know.... 'touchable'; almost as if she'd grown up but never lost her baby fat. She looked cute and desirable, and her tremendously large tits always set my young mind to lascivious thoughts at a moment's notice. She is not a tall woman, being only 5'-3" and I'd guess her weight to be about 120 lbs. Her hair is a rich chestnut brown and comes just past her shoulders. She's got the sweetest, most tender blue eyes I have ever seen, and I often seemed to just lose myself in daydreams when I looked into them. She has a beautiful mouth, nice and wide with full soft lips; a perfect mouth for cocksucking, I had always thought. But like I said earlier, her most defining attribute are those tremendously large tits of hers. No matter how conservatively she dressed, she couldn't hide the size of those babies. My friend Connor had told me once that my mom reminded him of a slightly older September Carrino, the busty model. I was familiar with her from many of my internet jackoff sessions, and I have to agree with my friend on that point. I've often looked at pictures and video clips of the voluptuous Ms. Carrino and jacked off imagining it was my own mother in her place. Yes, my stacked mother is quite the woman to inhabit the dreams and fantasies of a growing young man.
I clearly remember the first time I snuck into my parents' room one Saturday when they went to visit friends. I nervously went to her dresser drawers and found the one containing her bras. I lifted a number of them out and scurried with them to the privacy of my room. Closing the door, I pulled back my covers and laid the bras out in a tantalizing display on my bed. I ran my fingers over the sensuous forbidden garments, my fingers loving the feel of the cool silky fabric as I started to stroke my brick-hard cock with my other hand. I found a tag on one of the straps and turned it upwards: 32G. Oh fuck, within seconds I blew a huge load all over my sheets, being careful not to get any cum on her bras. After I pumped myself dry, I was still hard.
Knowing they were going to be away for a few hours yet, I ran back to their room and went into their closet. Aaaahh, there it was, the object I had come for; the laundry basket. I pulled it out into the light of the room and quickly found what I wanted; a pair of my mom's used panties. I hurriedly shoved the basket back into the closet and raced back to my room, her white panties clutched in my grasp. As I stood looking at the display of bras on my bed and resumed jerking my tumescent pecker, I brought her panties up to my face. The cool sexy material felt exquisitely wicked against my skin as I rubbed her panties all over my face. Her warm earthy smell entered my nostrils and fired my surging libido even more. I pulled them away and turned them inside out.
"Ohhhggnnn," I let out a low moan as I looked at the remnants of a damp stain remaining on the lining of the gusset. I pressed it to my nose and breathed deeply.
"Mmmmm," I gave a soft moan of delight as I inhaled her delicious womanly scent. The illicit delightful odor of my mother's snatch sent a scintillating wave of pleasure right to my groin. I breathed deeply again, and then let my tongue run out from between my lips and press against the inviting stain. I ran my tongue upwards and my warming saliva seemed to bring the taste of her alive in my mouth. I licked up and down as I savored the illicit taste of my mother's delicious pussy. I sucked hard on the fabric, trying to gather as much of her seeping nectar into my mouth as I could. Again, it didn't take long for those tingling sensations to start shooting through my midsection. I came; another huge load of cum splattering my sheets. Being a horny teenager, I came four more times that day before stealthily returning my stolen treasures to their room.
That was the first time of many as dreams of my bewitchingly beautiful mother continued to inhabit my fantasies daily. Yes, I did have a number of girlfriends as I grew up, both in high school and college; but none of them had ever come close to being the woman of my dreams that my mother was. It was like something was holding me back.....at least prior to the beginning of the events that take place in this tale.
I pictured many times how things would be if I could be with her as a man, and not just as her son. How perfect life would be if I could convince her to let me do to her all the nasty things I wanted, and to have her eagerly do to me the things that I wanted her to do. I dreamed of being able to educate her to please me, to be the perfect lover that I knew she could be; something I knew that lay hidden within her troubled soul, just aching to be released. But as time went by, I thought that day would never come....until things started to change......
My mother's parents died in a car accident when I was just finishing high school; leaving my mother a little inheritance money of her own. My dad's parents died just over two years ago, both of them losing battles with cancer within months of each other. I was shocked by my dad's behavior following the death of his parents. While most people would be mourning, he seemed to be almost ecstatic with happiness as he seemed to feel he was finally out from beneath his parents' control. He was in for a big surprise when it came time for the will to be read though.
I think his parents knew what their son was like deep down, and they ended up leaving a substantial amount of their estate to my mother, and also directly to me, their only grandson. My Dad was furious, figuring all that money should have gone to him. The lawyers told him the will was iron-clad and he had no recourse.
Well, he found his own recourse; within days of the inheritance money being allotted, he quit his job and skipped town. At first I was shocked, but as the days went by a tremendous feeling of relief started to come over me. Although she was initially crushed, I felt especially happy for my mother, knowing she was no longer under my father's control.
When my dad left she found comfort at her church, spending a lot of time helping out there. She also worked part-time at our local library branch, which I was happy to see. The church people seemed to be just as controlling as my father had been. I would often talk to her about it and try to get her to distance herself from those people, but it had been part of her life for so long, I was constantly fighting an uphill battle.
I think shortly after my dad left is when things started to change between my mother and me. When I was growing up she was always so protective of me. Once my dad took off, things changed; it was my turn to be protective of her.
Sometimes I just hate him for never letting her be the woman she was capable of being. He never really mistreated her or abused her; that's not what I mean. It was just the lifestyle the two of them led; I can see now that he'd been stifling her and basically suffocating her. She never really got to go out and do a lot of the things women her age do; you know, go for lunch with their girlfriends, go shoe shopping, stuff like that. Yeah, he kept her on a pretty short leash. You could tell by those boring clothes that she wore. I never saw her bring home any clothes more interesting, and I'm sure he had his hand in that decision somewhere. Remember, she had me when she was just a teenager and now at 42, she's still a beautiful young woman; and she deserves to dress like it. With the way he basically controlled her, I think that's why she turned to that church group of hers. It was a place where she was able to do something on her own and feel wanted, without antagonizing her husband or either of their parents. And then those assholes at the church were the first ones to shun her after my dad left; as if it was her fault that he was such a dick.
