Home Again: Coffee Confidential

Home Again: Coffee Confidential

"Did you ever have sexual thoughts about me when you were growing up?" The words shatter the relative silence, pierce my ears, and ricochet like a pinball off the insides of my skull. Painful.

Setting my nearly spilled coffee on the end table, I slowly look up at my mother, sitting across from me in her living room, "Huh?" I mutter simply.

"I'm just curious, I read that most boys have sexual thoughts about their mothers at some point. I'm curious if you did?" she asks calmly.

My mouth hangs open. How does she know? When did she find out? How did she find out? Wait, does she know? What? Why? How? When? My mind frantically processing while also trying to formulate a response that doesn't incriminate me. Nothing comes, the gears quickly bog down, grinding to a near halt, 'Tilt' flashes behind my forehead. My mouth open, words tumble out, "Yeah, I did," I hear myself confess impulsively. Oh, fuck me, what did I just do? I grimace, unsure what to expect.

"I see," my mother says, showing no emotion, taking a sip from her mug. "When was this, or rather, when did it start?"

I sit rigid, stunned by her lack of condemnation. My brain crashes like a CPU in race condition, reverting to it's base programing: Truth. "Um... I mean... I couldn't help notice you were an attractive woman growing up obviously, but... um... but after I turned 18, I started imagining... doing... stuff... with you," I stammer. Kill me now, I think, sighing.

"Hmm, interesting," Mom says sipping her coffee, unperturbed. "Did something start you thinking like that or did I do something that made you think about me like that?" she asks, eyebrows arched.

When I moved in with Mom a month ago, after splitting with my soon-to-be ex-wife, I had expected some amount of awkwardness, but nothing could have prepared me for this. What possibly brought this on? Did she catch me checking her out while she made breakfast? In my defense, Mom is still beautiful, and the blue, barely opaque babydoll nightie she is wearing both accentuates, and barely hides, her many physical charms. Sitting here on her couch, looking over at her in her large easy chair, awash in natural light from the tall windows, I can't help but appreciate her beauty while acknowledging my lifelong infatuation with her. Realizing I've been carrying this secret since I was a teenager; however awkward this is, I do feel a strange relief in finally admitting it.

I exhale, accepting my fate is in her hands, and answer, "I mean... other than being hot... no, it wasn't anything you did, not really. You were just always the prettiest woman I knew growing up and being around you all the time... you know... I'd see you in stuff... like bra and panties. Or bikinis. And, um... after I turned 18... I, um... tried to see... more of you..."

Mom actually seems amused, "Huh, I had no idea. So, you'd peek on me, to try and see me naked?" she questions.

"Yeah... um... yeah, a lot... actually... especially when you showered." Mom arches her eyebrows, clearly questioning, clearly expecting an answer. "I would kneel at the foot your bed and I could see you in the shower through the mirror over your sink...I really couldn't help... myself. Sorry." I shrug, still feeling a little guilty after all these years.

"Wow. I guess you were a pretty good little spy," Mom half grins, seemingly still more amused than offended. She seems lost in contemplation for several seconds before asking, "So... one day you were horny and you just... imagined me... doing things... for you or with you? It started like that?"

"Pretty much. I mean, I was so horny then... I couldn't control it... it... just kind of happened. I'd imagine you offering to help me or teach me... at first..." I cringe, hearing my own words, fuck!

"At first?" Mom smirks, turning in her chair to face me, pulling her legs up under her. "This IS getting interesting," she smiles, holding her mug with both hands.

Sighing, "You're really going to make me do this? You really want to hear this?" I ask, bewildered, shaking my head. This was always Mom's super power. Getting me to confess stuff by simply calmly asking, no anger, no judgement. Damnit, I guess she'll always have this power over me.

"Uh huh," she simply nods in response.

"Fuck, okay. Well, at first... for a while, it was just an every once in a while thing, like when... nothing else would... get me off. But I would feel really guilty afterwards. You know, I thought there was something wrong with me, thinking those things, about my own... you... you know? So I'd try not to do it again but... I couldn't stop... Then I found... stuff about it and knowing I wasn't the only one, kinda... made it seem okay. I guess it made me feel less bad about doing it anyway. If that makes sense? And so I kind of stopped trying not to think about you... and the more I learned about sex, the more I imagined... doing stuff to... I mean us... doing stuff," I admit to my mother.

Leaning forward, Mom says, "It does make sense, I'm sorry you went through that, feeling like something was wrong with you. I certainly understand why you didn't come to me with your feelings, but I want you to know you could have."

I feel a tremendous sense of relief unburdening myself to my mother. The same as when I was young. I'm in awe that she can still care and worry about me even when I'm admitting to having had perverted thoughts about her most of my life. "Thanks," I say, shaking my head, "but there was no way I was going to tell you I was thinking about you when I... you know," I laugh, feeling a sudden light heartedness about everything.

Mom shares my laugh, then says, "Well it seems like it's actually a rather common thing, if you believe what you read. Especially on the internet. I assume that's how you figured out you weren't the only one experiencing these types of feelings?"

"Yeah, it helped knowing, but I guess maybe it also made me a bigger pervert," I reply, shrugging.

"Well, there's a lot of that kind of stuff now, isn't there, incest porn? It's obviously popular. Kind of makes you wonder, maybe it's not perverted at all if that many people like it," my mother states perfectly calmly, sipping from her mug.

Did my mother just invoke incest porn in offering me absolution for my obsession with her? Holy shit. Unreal. Wait, why does Mom know about incest porn? I want to ask but can't bring myself to. I answer her, "Um, yeah, there's tons. Most of the videos are unwatchably fake though. You know?" I impulsively add the question on the end, my heart suddenly pounding, awaiting her reaction.

"Oh, yes, I have to agree. They're never quite as naughty as you want them to be. Is that your go-to for um... inspiration? Videos, I mean." Mom smirks, looking over her coffee mug.

Mom watches incest porn? So many questions... "If you're asking if I still watch porn, yeah I do. Not as much as I used to, but... videos have never really been my favorite thing, no." I divulge.

"So what is your favorite thing, then?" she inquires.

Fuck. Blowing out a breath, I answer, "Stories. I've always liked reading and imagining... more than watching... other people."

"You mean imagining you... and me.... having sex?" she asks casually, as if she was asking what I felt like having for dinner.

"Yeah." I reveal simply, not knowing what else to say.

"Still?" she questions, staring.

Briefly hesitating, I simply nod.

"Well, thank you for telling me, Honey," Mom smiles.

"Your welcome," I manage to croak.

We both sip our coffees. I'm lost in thought, pondering... everything. My mind a tornado of self-doubt and lewd imaginings. "Do you want a blowjob?" Wait, what? Did I just imagine hearing that? I look at Mom to find her looking at me inquisitively, "What?" I question.

Mom is sitting on the edge of her chair, leaning forward, feet on the ground, hands in her lap, staring at me, "Look, I'm really curious what it would be like... It seems like it's something you've always wanted. We're both adults. We're both single. We're living together, at least temporarily. We could try it and see what it's like. Maybe we'll like it, maybe we won't. It doesn't have to change things between us. After we can just go on like normal. What do you say?"

I sit slack jawed, staring at my mother. Smart. Funny. Kind. Curious. Caring. Forgiving. Cute feet. Long legs. Trim waist. Tight ass. Large bosom. Thin arms. Tiny hands. Luxurious hair. Pretty face. Pouty lips. Pretty. Cute. Sexy. Still my ideal woman. Still smoking hot.

And it is something I've always wanted.

Shaking my head to clear the fog, I tell her, "Mom, if your serious, I'm not going to say no."

Mom smiles, and sits up straight, shoulders back, excited, clapping like she just won a prize. "Oh, good!" she exclaims. I watch as she stands and picks up a throw pillow form her chair and crosses the few feet between us, laying the pillow on the floor and then kneeling between my legs.

"Here, scoot forward, lets get these off you," she says, moving her hands to my waist to pull down my shorts. I slide down to the edge of the cushion, pushing my crotch towards my mother and raise my hips when I feel her fingers grab the waistband and tug. Quickly discarding my t-shirt, I watch my mother's face as she yanks my shorts off, uncovering my rapidly swelling penis. She looks at me and smiles, "Mmm, look at that..." she says, one hand caressing my thigh as the other wraps around my erection, "...it's a lot bigger than the last time I saw it," Mom winks, then looking back to my cock, she begins to pump it slowly, her eyes narrow, watching her own hand travel up and down.

I shudder and tell her, "Mom, it's been awhile."

"I figured..." she replies, "... poor baby, don't worry, Mommy's going to take good care you," as she tilts her head and proceeds to lick my shaft from root to tip, several times. I moan. She moans. She lovingly bathes my cock with her tongue.

"Mom, fuck, that feels nice," I let her know.

Mom smiles still stroking my now wet shaft. She lowers her head and takes one of my testicles in her mouth, whole. "Oh gooddd, Mom. Holy shit," I say, as she sucks on it hungrily, the suction and wetness unreal. She swaps one ball for the other. My scrotum is dripping when she finishes.

"Such big balls, baby," she says wiping her wet chin, "I hope they're full of yummy cum for your mother," she smiles, stroking me.

"Fuck, Mom, when did you get so naughty?" I ask.

"You're not the only one who likes reading dirty stories, sweetie," she says leaning back and lowering her nightie, exposing her awesome tits. She shakes them side to side, looking at me. Then holding them while pulling on her nipples, she asks, "Want to fuck them?"

"Fuck yes, Mom... wrap them around my dick," I tell her. She moans and I watch my cock disappear between her soft, fleshy globes. She arches her back, moving up and down. Like a magic trick, I watch my cock reappear again and again.

"I haven't done this in a long time," she tells me, her face beams.

"You're so hot Mom. So fucking sexy. I can't believe we're really doing this. Thank you. I love you so much," I tell her sincerely.

"I love you too baby..." she says stopping to let a big glob of spit fall from her mouth onto my the head of my cock, "...but don't thank me yet. I haven't made you empty those big balls yet," she smiles, taking my cock and slapping it against her hard nipple. One, then the other. She bites her lip and her eyes roll back in her head as she rubs my dick back and forth across her hard, swollen nubs.

Looking at me she giggles and moans, "Mmm, when you're ready to cum, do it where ever you want, okay honey? On my tits, in my mouth, on my face. Where ever you want," she informs me before lowering her head and wrapping her thick lips around the head of my cock. I watch her mouth stretch and slide down my length. Slow, steady and gentle at first. Her lips molded, sliding up and down, her tongue lapping. I think I've died and gone to heaven. For several minutes I watch my mother love me with her mouth. Mom pulls back, smiling, "Your cock is so hard, sweetie. God, I miss good dick."

Then Mom attacks my cock for real, her efforts intensifying quickly. She bobs purposefully, varying speed, angle and force. She goes all the way down. Once. Twice. Three times. Her lips sealed at the base, the head pressing against the back of her throat. She holds there and I feel her tongue lapping. Facing down, her hand reaches up blindly in mid air. I reach to take her hand, she takes mine and puts it on her head. Then she does the same with my other hand. With both hands on her head I hold her and gently lift my hips, my dick pushing into her throat. I watch to see how Mom responds, she moans and nods as much my cock allows. I hold her firmly and raise and lower my hips, then again, and again. My cock pushing in and out of Mom's throat. She gags but makes no motion to stop. I fuck mom's throat repeatedly, picking up speed. I moan feeling my edge approach. "Oh my god, Mom, you're so hot, fuck," I cry out. I release my grip and guide her head up my shaft. "I'm close, suck it and stroke me," I instruct her. She obediently nurses on my head as she strokes my shaft rapidly, looking up at me with red, tear streaked eyes. "You look so fucking sexy, Mom," I tell her. She smiles with her eyes, still sucking and stroking me.

"So close. You want my cum don't you?" I ask, she nods never taking her mouth off my cock or breaking rhythm. "I'm going to cum in your mouth, Mom. Here it comes," I warn her, feeling my orgasm explode. My cock fires repeatedly into Mom's mouth. Her lips wrapped around the head, one hand steadily stroking my spasming shaft, the other massaging my convulsing balls. I brace myself against the couch as I ejaculate into my mother's mouth. My whole body shudders and convulses as I empty myself into her. She handles my discharge with hungry gulps.

I slump breathless into the couch. Holy shit, does my mom knows how to suck a dick. I watch her gently kiss the head of my cock, her tongue flicking the underside. One hand gently going from root to head, coaxing out every last drop. Her other hand now lovingly caressing my thigh. My balls finally empty, Mom disengages. She leans back, wiping her eyes with the back of her hands. I watch as her tongue swipes her lips searching for any cum that got away. An escaping stray glob sliding down the corner of her mouth is quickly captured by her finger. She inspects the seminal blob momentarily before popping it in her mouth and sucking her finger clean. She swallows with a pleasurable moan. We share a smile. What an amazing woman.

Sitting back on her heels. Face flush. Hair messed. Eyes red. Mascara streaked. Lipstick smudged. Neck and chest spit slick. Still fucking beautiful. Mom smiles, exclaiming, "That was fun, wasn't it!"