Home Again: New Year's Acquiescence

Note:

This story is

not

a continuation of my previous story,

Home Again: Coffee Confidential

. My intention is for '

Home Again'

to serve as a series of vignettes about adult children living with their parent(s) again after separation and the culmination of long held desires.

****

Home Again: New Year's Acquiescence

"I'm not sure that's a good idea, we've been drinking and, given your... fascinations... with me... we probably shouldn't," my mother responds, looking up at me, her arms around my neck, her body pressed into mine as we swayed to the music.

"God, Mom, it's not like that, it's just... nice... having you in my arms. I thought it would be nice to share a kiss," I tell her, honestly. Well, okay, mostly honest. It is nice having my mother in my arms and I do want to share a tender kiss with her to mark the occasion. But also, it is, at least partially, 'like that.'

We left her neighbor's New Year's Eve party not long after the ball dropped and began our short trip up a few floors when Mom surprised me in the elevator, taking a swig from the bottle of champagne her friend insisted we take with us and telling me she wasn't really tired yet and thought maybe we could share a dance before going to bed. So here we are slowly dancing around her living room, holding each other, bodies pressed together. The wall-to-wall windows of her waterfront high rise condo frame fireworks exploding over the moonlit bay. Kaleidoscopic swatches of color bathe the living room in increasingly random intervals as midnight grows more distant and the celebratory blasts begin to slow. It would be a nice memory and an innocent enough moment for most mothers and sons to share a kiss, but most sons haven't lusted after their own mother for a decade, and most mothers aren't aware of their son's feelings. But I do. And she is.

My mother smiles, looking up at me, and the flecks in her eyes catch in the explosive bursts of color. Not exactly tipsy, more very relaxed, the champagne obviously having its intended effect. "It would be 'nice,' wouldn't it, are you sure that's all it is, just a nice kiss? I don't want you to take it as a sign that... I've changed my mind..." she explains, one hand casually brushing my hair out of my face. She feels so good in my arms. Petite and only chest high. So cute. So pretty. So sexy. Still.

College had given us a wide buffer after Mom confronted me about my feelings towards her that fateful day during my senior year of high school. I never knew which she discovered, my browsing history and collection of bookmarked mother/son incest stories, my stash of her used panties, or had she caught me peeking on her in the bathroom we shared? She never said and I didn't have the nerve to ask that day she sat me down and told me she knew I had sexual thoughts about her. A hormonal 18 year old, I had been incautious, not realizing I wasn't as good at hiding things as I thought, especially my feelings.

Perhaps because Mom is a nurse, she wasn't overly emotional about her discovery, she plainly and patiently explained that she was aware this happens and she expected it was a phase that I would soon grow out of. I knew better, my infatuation with her was older and deeper than she obviously suspected, but I was in no position to argue. I accepted her explanation, her reinforcement of boundaries, and her declaration that nothing would, or could, ever happen between us. I was beyond relieved that was the extent of it, no yelling, no tears, no condemnation, and no damage. Just love and understanding which I was truly grateful for, but also felt unworthy of, after all it was 'on me,' my fault for having those feelings, so I readily accepted the blame, thankful Mom wasn't hurt. But also, of course, I was ultimately disappointed that Mom didn't share my feelings and immediately hop into my arms and invite me to join her in bed.

"I know, Mom. I'm not expecting anything. I was just hoping for a kiss," I tell her. This part is honest. I wasn't expecting anything. I had long ago packed away my hopes of anything actually happening between us. But the taboo excitement of possibility still runs deep and I feel my cock stir.

"So long as you're sure, Honey, I guess it's okay. Just a quick kiss," Mom says, a relaxed, amused expression on her face. She stretches up as I lean down. Her eyes close, and then mine. Our lips meet in the darkness. Seconds, minutes, hours, millennia, all of existence is contained in my mother's willing kiss. Out lips press together, warm, wet, NICE. Our mouths part far too quickly. The warmth and wet lingers.

Smiling, Mom wipes her mouth, "Well, that was... nice... wasn't it," she says, staring up at me as we continue to dance. "It really was," I tell her, felling my cock begin to swell. We continue dancing, my hands on her hips, she still has one hand on the back of my neck, the other, now flat against my chest. I assume she can feel my heart pounding. I wonder if she can feel my cock growing. I tell myself to stay in the moment and enjoy having Mom in my arms.

The barrage of fireworks slows to random one-offs, the living room glowing brightly now only occasionally, fleetingly. We can both feel the night drawing to an end. Looking out over the water, seemingly lost in thought before looking back to me, "I suppose one more wouldn't hurt," Mom announces, surprising me, her face neutral, as she cranes her head up towards mine again.

Four years of college did little to quench my desire for my mother. I wish I could explain it. I came to wish I understood it, because IT became a burden. MY relationships suffered because no one measured up to my mother, but OUR relationship was great, Mom and I texted daily, talked or video chatted weekly, and saw each other a few times each year. Time and distance did not work it's magic, and my taboo desires for my mother never waned through four years of physical separation.

Approaching graduation I knew there was no way I could afford to live on my own, given the current state of rental prices, and I dreaded having to have a roommate. What the fuck was the point of going to school for 17 years to get a job that didn't pay enough to live a decent life? I was beyond frustrated and for the first time dreading the future when I got a job offer in my hometown. The pay wasn't better but maybe having an old friend for a roommate would be better than a stranger.

I had resigned myself to this fate and accepted the hometown position and began reaching out to old high school buddies, seeing if anyone needed or wanted to split an apartment, when Mom suggested I move in with her in her new high-rise condo she bought the previous year. Much bigger than any of the small apartments we shared when I was growing up. The bedrooms were large and on opposite sides and I would have my own bathroom and sizable balcony. There was a residents only gym and two pools, as well as bars, restaurants, and shopping on the ground floor. The comfort and convenience were hard to refuse, but living with Mom again was not something I'd ever considered, and it gave me pause. I really had packed away any hope of anything happening between us, BUT that was largely because I never expected to spend a significant amount of time with her again. Certainly not more than a few days visiting or possibly a week vacationing together. Definitely not living together again. The pros and cons of her offer were decisive, 'I'm 23 now, I can compartmentalize, I can keep my feelings secret,' I told myself, accepting my mother's offer, resolved to not let history repeat itself.

My cock swelling and my heart pounding, I lower my head to my mother's expecting a repeat of the gentle kiss we just shared. Her mouth presses harder into mine, our lips move against each other, wetter, hungry now. She presses her body hard into me. My hands slide down from her waist, her ass cheeks fill my palms. Instinctively my tongue seeks my mother's mouth, wetly swiping across her lips, probing, pushing, seeking entry.

Suddenly breaking our kiss and embrace and stepping back, sucking a deep breath, and wiping her mouth, "This is what I was afraid of..." Mom announces.

After moving in with Mom, my continued infatuation with her did not, in fact, remain a secret for long. I was regularly putting in 12-hour days at my job, doing my best to prove my worth and make opportunities for myself. Mom now held a management position that allowed her to work a normal 8 to 5 shift and therefore we tended to be home together most nights. We quickly settled into a routine of eating dinner together and watching TV for an hour or so before retiring to our bedrooms.

Amongst the byproducts of being 23 years old and working 60 plus hours a week was I didn't have time for much socializing and even less time for a relationship. I usually masturbated before going to sleep and after waking up, everyday. Being so pressed for time, I sought potent stimulation, usually a combination of incest stories, pictures of Mom, and some type of extreme porn all at the same time. Often I'd have my phone, laptop and iPad all going simultaneously. And after initially resisting the temptation, I soon relented and began sneaking Mom's panties out of the laundry. I was more cautious than years ago, this time I was rotating them every couple of days to avoid any being noticed missing long term. Not that my efforts ended up mattering.

Another byproduct of my schedule was I prioritized my weekends for fun and neglected keeping my bedroom and bathroom clean and tidy. A lame excuse, I know, and no doubt my mother's intention had been generous in both time and spirit when I came home one evening to find my bedroom and bathroom spic and span, the type of all encompassing clean only mother's seem capable of achieving. However, not having ever expected any intrusion, I had grown accustomed to leaving my bed unmade with my laptop and iPad open to whatever I was perusing in the morning so as to quickly resume reading or watching when I returned to my bed exhausted, but horny, a mere 18 or so hours later each night. My heart sank finding my bed crisply made with new sheets, my laptop and iPad stacked neatly in the center with the current pair of Mom's panties I kept under my pillow, neatly folded on top. Shit.

Quickly processing that hiding in my room was not an actual option, I decided to face the music. Finding Mom in the kitchen making dinner, I said hello and thanked her for cleaning. Showing no distress or unusual emotion, she simply told me 'You're welcome,' and continued on as usual, making dinner and asking about my day. After dinner, she popped the bubble, stating, 'I suppose we need to have a conversation.'

'I know you're 23 and have a libido to match and you don't have time for a social life and you know I'm not bothered by pornography or signs or... proof... of masturbation. So, I wasn't surprised to find the crusty t-shirt under your bed...' Mom dismissed, waving her hand, before continuing, '...but, I didn't expect to find my panties. Again. Or incest stories on you iPad. Or a bukkake video on you laptop. How worried should I be?' she asked directly.

Sighing, 'Um... well... I don't have time to date and really not even a lot of time to... um...masturbate, so... I... need something... quick,' I sputtered throwing my hands up, hoping for mercy.

'Well, I guess that explains the bukkake videos. I hadn't heard of 'Premium Bukkake' before. They're quite nasty aren't they?' she didn't really ask, looking off for a few seconds, lost in thought before she let out a deep breath, "So, what about Literotica... the incest stories... and my... panties? Is it... again... or still?' she questioned.

My heartbeat dangerously fast, I felt close to ill. My brain couldn't process a lie. 'Still.' I admitted, prepared to accept my fate.

Mom arched her eyebrows, 'I see. Well, there's a lot of... incest stuff isn't there; I suppose lots of people must find it... exciting. It is certainly naughty, so I guess I understand the appeal... Just so long as you understand it can't actually happen. I am your mother not a... girlfriend... or a roommate with... benefits...' Mom trailed off, seemingly lost in thought for a moment before continuing, 'Fantasy is fantasy I suppose, but WE can't have sex no matter how much you might think about it or... may actually... want to...' Mom trailed off again, almost seeming sorry for me, before giving me a reassuring smile and asking, 'Okay?'

'Yeah, Mom, I understand, thanks for being so cool. Sorry for being... weird,' I offered.

'Sweetie, you don't have to apologize. We all have fantasies. I'm just... surprised is all. I thought it was just a phase. I guess maybe I didn't handle it right before, but we're adults and I think we can make this work; we just need to respect each other's privacy. If you don't want me to clean your room, I won't,' Mom told me.

'Hey, you certainly don't have to, but I'd be stupid to refuse the help if you're offering,' I told her. She responded she'd be happy to do it while I'm working so much. I got up to leave, but then remembered she left her panties on my bed, hesitating before deciding it was best to avoid any misunderstanding, I inquired, 'Um... you left your... um... panties... on my bed?'

Seeming to have forgotten herself, Mom paused before stuttering, 'Oh, yeah... Well, um... I guess I won't worry about what happens after I put them... in the laundry... I guess I don't mind if they...um... help you... So long as they don't disappear like before, okay, Buster,' she finishes quickly, a forced smile and even more forced chuckle, obviously attempting to lighten the mood, using the childhood nickname I hadn't heard from her in years. I could only nod back, beyond shocked, before finally muttering... 'Thanks... Mom.'

Quickly stepping to Mom, closing the distance she just made, I put my hands on her waist again, gripping her hips more firmly than before, but I resist pulling her body into mine and tell her, "I think you were kissing me that time, Mom."

Biting her lip, "Oh god, baby. This is so confusing. I guess maybe it's easy for you because you've been thinking about it for so long, but... it's new to me... and wrong... so wrong. Oh my god, why are we even doing this? We should have just gone to bed. What was I thinking?" she rambles, looking off, out over the water, sporadic fireworks still going off.

"It's okay, Mom, we don't have to do anything," I assure her, my heart thundering. Unable to stop myself, I take her chin in hand, tilting her face towards me and tell her, "Unless you want to?"

Looking up at me, a frightened look on her face, biting her lip and shaking her head as if attempting to force herself not to speak. Finally letting out a big breath, tears in her eyes, Mom tells me, "That's just it, honey. Part... part of me does want to... do... more... part of me wants to... be your... woman...but.... Oh, god, we... we... I...I can't..." she trails off, looking out over the water again before looking back at me, "I can't bring myself to... I can't give myself to you... you're going to have to... take... what you want. Do... do you understand," Mom says, her shaking hand reaches to caress my cheek. Her eyes are wet pools. "You can have me... but you have to take me. Make me your woman. Make me yours. Make me yours and you can have me. What ever you want. Where ever you want. When ever you want," Mom tells me, tears running down her cheeks.

I don't need to be told twice. I pull her body into mine, pressing my mouth to hers again, this time there is not reticence, no moral boundary, only physical need. Our lips mash together, heated, moist. I pry Mom's lips open with my tongue, forcing it deep into her mouth; our tongues join, then wrestle, wetly sliding together. We moan into each other's mouths, the sound competing with the saturated, sloppy squelch of our kissing.

Mom's hands rub up and down my back as we make out. My hands slide onto her ass, squeezing her cheeks through her dress. Our drenched mouths slide apart and I kiss and suckle down my mother's neck, "Ohhh," she moans in my ear as my hands pull her little black dress up and I palm her bare ass for the first time. My hands grasp and squeeze her nude globes as our mouths meet and devour again. My fingers slide into her crack and I feel the fabric of her thong. I take the string in both hands and pull in opposite directions, the fabric snaps easily. I do the same to her waistband and quickly toss the now useless clump of fabric aside.

"Oh god, baby," Mom gasps, breaking our kiss.

I lick along her jawline, "Undo my pants," I tell my mother, before sucking her ear lobe. I feel Mom's hands at my belt, then my button and zipper. All undone in swift motions; my pants fall to the floor. I feel Mom reach down and rub my erection through my boxers. "That's it, take it out," I pant, feeling her hand push the fly apart and brush against my cock before wrapping her fingers around it and pulling it from it's confines. We both look down and watch her hand pump my erection. I tilt my head and kiss her neck. Mom continues stroking me, as I push her backwards, my feet shuffling with my pants around my ankles the few feet until Mom's back is against the wall.

Our faces smashed together. Our mouths devouring each other. My hands under my mother's dress, her bare ass in my hands, her back pinned against her living room wall in front of her windows overlooking the water, her arm smashed between us, her hand stroking my erection, I pick Mom up, her legs instantly wrapping around my waist. Pulling my head back, a string of spit breaking and falling onto both ours chins, I tell my mother, "Put me in you," pressing my hard-on into her belly. I feel Mom push down on my erection, the head sliding down across her soft tummy, down through her barely-there stubble, and then into her warm, wet groove. We both moan.

"There," Mom pants, lining me up. "Ohhh.. fuckkk," she cries as I push into her. Wet and ready, I sink all the way in with the first push. Our mouths latch onto each other yet again as I slide out, then back into my mother. Her pussy is soaked and grasps at my length with each penetration. Pushing deep, feeling her stretch, "Oh, Mom, god!" I moan as I start to fuck her.

"Ohhhh, Jesus, honey!" Mom moans, feeling me deep inside her, "Oh, ohh, ohhhh, fuuucckkk..." she cries, head on my shoulder, I pump in and out of her, picking up speed.

"Ugh... fuck... Mom," I moan between pumps, quickly fucking into her with steady, deep, hard, needy strokes. Pressing her into the wall, her ass in my hands, her hands grip my shoulders, her legs now wide, wedged between my arms and the wall, her little black dress up around her waist. Our bodies joined, I penetrate my mother repeatedly with animalistic need, the living room fills with the sounds of our moans and our fused genitals wetly smacking.

I ponder the violence of our fucking, banging Mom into the wall, but my need and her moans overrides any concern for comfort. I need my mother to feel all the years of my pent up desire. "Ugh. Ugh. Ugh," we both groan as I slam into Mom's hot, wet pussy, over and over. Harder and harder. I feel her cunt grasp and cream. Her head on my shoulder, a steady moan emanates from her mouth, starting as a low growl, quickly turning into a high-pitched squeal. I feel her teeth bite through my shirt as I fuck her relentlessly.

I feel Mom's pussy spasm around my cock as she cries out. "Fuck yeah, Mom," I groan, feeling her clench and gush as she orgasms. Mom's body tenses and shakes, helpless in my arms as I fuck her brutally, pounding her with deep, cervix bumping strokes. Going limp in my arms, my mother grunts with each stab and her pussy squelches with each pump.