This is my first time publishing a story based loosely on my own experience with my mother almost 30 years ago.
Hope you enjoy.
___________________________________________________________
In a quiet suburban neighborhood, Joanne and her son Chuck shared a bond that was closer than most. Chucks father was aloof and usually at work so Joanne had lots of time to dote on Chuck. They adored spending time together and played and joked like brother and sister.
At 57, Joanne was a vibrant woman with long brown hair and a petite frame that accentuated her large, 32DD breasts, exuding a warmth that filled their home. Chuck, now 19, had grown into a strong young man of average height, with muscles defined from years of sports and weight training. Their relationship was open and comfortable, perhaps too comfortable for some, but it worked for them--until recently.
An unspoken tension had begun to simmer between them, ever since Chuck turned 18 and graduated high school he started having girls sleep over. The knowledge that her son was up at late at night fucking just on the other side of the house shifted something and Joanne found herself admiring his physique more openly, her compliments lingering in the air a little longer than usual. Chuck, in turn, couldn't help but notice his mother's body, a familiar sight from years of shared showers and casual nudity but now fuel for his fantasies. He caught himself undressing her in his mind, wondering about the one area he had never properly seen. Joanne did the same, wondering how time had changed him. Their comfort with each other had blurred the lines, and neither knew how to address the shifting dynamics.
One sunny afternoon, Joanne was kneeling under the stairs, feeding their pet rabbits. Her skirt rode up slightly as she leaned forward, revealing more than she intended. Yet she was home alone and enjoyed the feeling of the cool AC's breeze blowing over her large round ass and slightly swollen cunt lips. She had just finished touching herself and was still hot and aroused, so she had not put on underwear. She disdained wearing underwear, something Chuck knew well from growing up with her.
When Chuck walked in from school, he froze in the doorway as his eyes fell upon her. Her voluptuous form was fully on display, and for the first time, he saw her intimately--her dark, soft curls still damp from her orgasm, matted down and parted to reveal her large dangling dark brown labia. Still engorged, they parted to show a strikingly contrasting bright pink inner pussy. The sight sent a jolt through Chuck's body, searing into his mind.
"Mom? I'm home," Chuck finally managed, his voice quiet yet throaty. Joanne startled, quickly smoothing down her skirt, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment and something more. She realized what he must have seen and knew the state she was in. The air between them was charged with excitement.
Days turned into weeks, and the tension only grew. Chuck found himself noticing the musky scent that lingered in the house, a scent distinctly Joanne's and associated with how she smelled that day when he arrived home. He sought out opportunities to catch glimpses of her, his heart racing each time. He was sitting across from her more often, bending down to pick things up and standing up slowly, his gaze lingering.
Joanne, too, was aware of his gaze, feeling a thrill whenever she caught him looking. She acted as if she was oblivious but would casually watch his hungry searching out of the corner of her eyes, inadvertently--or perhaps intentionally--parting her legs a bit more often. The instances of wearing underwear plummeted to absolute zero. She noticed other small things--her lube disappearing faster than usual, and pairs of panties going missing, only to reappear crusty in the laundry.
