I'm still not sure how it happened. At eighteen, and having just broken up with my girlfriend, the world felt miserable. Of course, my mother tried to console me, giving me frequent cuddles, and telling me that there were plenty more fish in the sea. It didn't feel like that, it felt as though my life had suddenly come to an end.
Sitting on my bed with a memorable song playing on my record player, tears ran down my face. Perhaps she had heard me sob; perhaps she was just returning clean clothes to my room. I don't know which it was, but the next moment, she was there, holding me tight. Dad was at work, my siblings at school, and I should have been at college, but currently, I couldn't face it, or my ex. She allowed me to cry into her shoulder until I exhausted the tears and then lifted my head as she wiped them from my face and puffy eyes.
I am still at a loss as to why I leant forward and then kissed her. Perhaps it was the warmth of her body, or maybe the smell of her hair and perfume. I'm convinced it was her lips. I stared at them, and they reminded me so much of Alison, my now ex-girlfriend, that I just leaned in and kissed them. Momentarily, they tasted succulent as I ran my tongue across them, and then just as quickly, they were whisked away from me, as mum jerked her head back.
'Jack! What are you doing?'
I was back in reality, my face turning red as I stumbled over an apology.
'I'm so sorry mum. I don't know what came over me. Your lips just looked so appealing that I wanted to kiss them.'
I probably looked even more miserable now than I had previously. What was I thinking? I had just attempted to kiss my mother, in a completely unacceptable way.
Maybe she took pity on me, a mother showing her son some much-needed compassion. All I knew was that second's later, I was kissing her again. I suppose that wasn't completely true; she was kissing me this time; my passion quickly became inflamed. Our mouths twisted against each other, intimate, and frantic. I traced patterns across her lips with my tongue, and she countered, doing the same before it invaded my mouth.
I presumed it would have gone on for longer if it had not been for my hands. My desires were building, my hands, on the move as they began to explore her body. They were on their way to her chest when she broke away.
'You must not do that,' she whispered breathlessly.
She was breathing quickly, her bosom rising and falling rapidly. I don't know why we were whispering; there was no one else in the house to hear us.
Replacing my hands at her waist, I kissed her again as we rolled onto the bed and into a prone position. I never moved them, but down below, the inevitable had happened as I pressed my erection against her mound. Her leg went over my hip, and she pushed back, rubbing herself against it as arousal built in us both. I was tempted to move my hands; that was until she suddenly pulled her face away.
'Stop! Stop!..... Jack, we have to stop.'
She sat up, fluffed her hair, and smoothed her dress before disappearing from my room and leaving me astonished and frustrated.
It was hard to believe what both of us had just done. We had kissed. Not an affectionate kiss, but one of arousal and desire. She had given me an erection, one that I had rubbed against her, and she had responded, pressing herself against it as her body began to become excited. What really shocked me, was that I had been prepared to have sex with her. That had been the uppermost thought in my mind, to undress her, and then to fuck her.
Unsurprisingly, Alison was now the last thing on my mind. At college the following day, I found I could face her without showing any emotions, my thoughts currently centred on my mother.
It wasn't as though we could do anything, even if mum had been so inclined. I was still not sure whether she was or not. I arrived home from college just before my father got home and after my siblings had got in. There was no opportunity before tea and none afterwards. We settled down as a family to watch television, a couple of the older kids going out for an hour or so. Normally, I would have been out myself, or Alison would have been here. But with her now gone, I sat with the family for thirty minutes before disappearing up to my room.
There was an LP on my record player, a better choice this time, which lifted my mood. Trying to get immersed in a book I had to read for college, I didn't hear the door of my room open.
'Are you ok?' My mother asked, stepping inside, and closing the door behind her.
'Yeah, I'm fine.' I sat upright and then got off the bed and stood.
There followed a pregnant silence, both of us waiting for the other to say something.
'About the other day,' she started.
'I want to kiss you again.' I replied, interrupting her.
'Jack! You mustn't be thinking like that.'
'I can't help it, mum. I just want to kiss you again.'
I had moved closer, only inches between our bodies now. She looked at the door and then put her outstretched hand against it, holding it shut as she closed that small distance, and our mouths came together. It was a repeat of our first encounter. I had a boner and was pressing it against her, my hands resting on her buttocks as I squeezed them and pulled her hard against it. As we kissed, she slung her arms around my neck, pushing me backwards until I came up against the door.
I don't know how she managed it, but suddenly a hand was between us and began rubbing at my erection. 'Oh my God, Jack.' I heard her mumble.
Taking that as her consent, my own hand rose to her chest and cupped the small breast I encountered. Sensing the rumble of a moan in her throat as our mouths worked frantically against each other, I gave it a slight squeeze, feeling the flesh inside her bra move beneath my hand.
Thoughts were roaring in and out of my head. Christ! I know this sounds wrong, but I wanted to fuck her, to fuck my mother.
And then we were back to normality as she released me.
'We can't do this. It is so wrong.' She seemed flustered as she tried to get her breathing back under control. 'I only popped to the loo. Your dad will be wondering where I am.' And with that, she pulled me away from the door and disappeared.
Again, I was trying to come to terms with what had just happened. Feeling completely horny, the feel of her breast registered in my mind. The throbbing of my shaft reminded me of how fantastic it had felt as she rubbed me, and how much I had wanted to undress her and consume her body.
There were no future opportunities in the forthcoming days, leaving me feeling slightly frustrated. Why, when the object of my imagination was my mother, was I feeling these remorseless urges? It was Thursday of the following week. As usual, my father was at work and the kids were at school. I had a home study day and was in my bedroom sitting at my desk when mum entered with two coffees.
Placing one on my desk, she took her own and sat on the bed, her skirt riding up a little and giving me glimpses of her inner thighs. As I sipped at my brew, my brain was imagining what lay beyond the parts of her legs that I could see. The vision was erotic, to say the least, crossing my legs to hide the developing bulge. I had nearly finished my drink when she patted the bed next to her.
Taking her empty cup and placing it on my desk, I sat down beside her, so close that our shoulders and hips touched.
'You do realise that what I have let you do is wrong?' She asked.
'I don't care mum. I know it's wrong, but I can't stop thinking about doing more.'
Was that the hint of a smile or a smirk that I saw? I didn't have time to ponder before I was flat on my back, and she was straddling my hips. Her skirt had risen higher this time, and as I looked along the length of my body, I could see her panties pulled tightly against her crotch.
The throbbing of my shaft was painful; just the sight between her legs, and what was hidden by that thin slip of material had my imagination working overtime. I watched as she pulled her blouse from her skirt and began unbuttoning it. Time seemed to pass slowly before she shrugged it off her shoulders and reached behind her back. There was a gasp as her breasts were exposed, one which had escaped from my lips. Sitting upright for a second, my top was dragged over my head with the help of my mum as we looked at each other topless.
Immediately my hands went to her breasts. They were smallish, but perfectly formed and filled my hands; her nipples were erect and a lot darker than her pale skin. Taking each one between my fingers and thumb, I squeezed gently and heard her growl as her eyes closed momentarily.