After four years, it was all over. Finals were taken, parties were thrown, and the graduation ceremony, while long, was over and done. Promises were made (probably in vain) to keep in touch with each other, and then it was all over. Just me and my mother Carol driving back home. After four years of college, I was finally headed back home. I mean I had been back home, since I was only one state and a four hour drive away. I usually visited around the holidays (or whenever I had a chance, like a long holiday weekend), and we talked at least twice a month. Now, however, I was headed home for good.
It was just my mother and I, and had been for a while. See, my parents were high school sweethearts, got married right out of high school, and not too long after that, I came along. My father had to get a job to support us, and luckily enough, his best friend's dad helped him get a decent job. My mother stayed home and took care of me as best she could. It was difficult for her to be a mother at 18, but she managed. She had to, as my grandparents on my father's side had died before I was born, so my father was raised by his aunt. My mother had a falling out with her parents because they didn't like my father (she never explained why, and wouldn't give me any further details), and because of that, they hadn't spoken in years. My dad's aunt had helped my parents get the small house we lived in. After a few years they were able to afford a slightly bigger place, because they knew they would need the space as I wasn't going to be a baby forever.
Things were pretty good for a while, at least I thought they were. However around the time I turned 15, I could see the cracks starting to form. It had actually started a couple of years before that, but I didn't really notice until I was 15. They started to argue more, especially when my mom wanted to start working now that I was a teenager and could basically take care of myself (mom now has a job as an assistant manager at a clothing store, having worked her way up from cashier), but it seemed like even the littlest thing set off a shouting match, my father started to drink more and spent most of his time either out with his friends drinking, or parked in front of the TV watching sports. It turned out that his nights out with the boys were more like his nights out with his girlfriend. He had started an affair with a woman he worked with, and when my mother found out she and my father had the argument to end all arguments. To make a long story short, within a year they were divorced with my mother getting to keep the house and full custody of me. We found out later that my father had gotten "that bitch" as my mother called her, pregnant. So somewhere out there I have a half sister, but since my parents stopped speaking after the divorce was final I've never met her. I also haven't seen or heard from my father since.
She kept up a brave face for a while after the divorce, but sometimes at night I could hear her crying in her bedroom. I promised myself I would do everything I could to take care of my mother after all the shit my father had put her through for a year and a half. Not to brag, but I've always been a pretty smart kid and I was able to get a full academic scholarship to college. I wanted to stay close to home, which is why I chose a college that was only one state over.
"It's gonna be weird to be back home for good instead of just a couple of weeks." I said as I watched the campus disappear in the rearview mirror.
"Yeah, but it will be nice to have you back home." Mom said, "That house seems so big without you there."
"Well once I get a job and save up enough money, I think I'll have to find my own place. I mean I'm 21 now, and I don't want to be a grown man still living with his mother."
"Why?" Mom said, glancing at me, "Ashamed of your old mother?"
I had to laugh "Old? You're only 18 years older than me!"
"Oh, that's sweet honey," Mom said, blushing "But I'm pushing 40."
"You don't look like it, you look like you're barely pushing 30."
Mom had kept herself in pretty good shape, and while she wouldn't give a fashion model a run for her money, she definitely wasn't ugly or homely, but she certainly didn't look old enough to have a 21 year old son.
"Don't be in such a rush to leave." She said, "You can relax for a couple of weeks before getting a job. I saved up my vacation time so I've got two weeks that I'm using to spend some quality time with my son."
"You didn't have to do that mom."
"I know. I wanted to. Besides, I'm making my famous lasagna for you tonight as a welcome home dinner." she said, changing the subject.
My mom made the best lasagna I ever tasted, and I'm not just saying that because she's my mother.
"You spoil me mom."
"Only the best for my boy."
We made small talk the rest of the way home, and finally we were back home. For good this time.
I headed to my room with the intent of unpacking but I flopped down on the bed intending to just rest for a moment and ended up falling asleep for a couple hours.
"Jimmy? Jimmy? Wake up sleepyhead."
"Wha...?" I mumbled, "Huh... oh, sorry mom. I must have nodded off."
"It's okay, sweetie," she said, smiling a smile that always made my day from the time I was a little kid, "Dinner will be ready in about 10 minutes."
I finally pulled off my sneakers and socks, changed out of my jeans into a pair of sweats and got some stuff unpacked before dinner was ready. After dinner we crashed on the couch and watched TV for a bit and I found myself nodding off again. I kept catching myself as my head started to sag, and mom laughed at me.
"Jimmy, just go to bed if you're tired."
"I'm not tired," I said, "I was just resting my eyes."
"Uh-huh, sure." she said, rolling her eyes and playfully nudging me with her foot.
A few minutes later I felt her nudge me again. "Still resting your eyes? Just go to bed honey, it's okay. I won't be offended."
"I'm not tired." I protested again.
Then I nodded off again.
Before I could snap my head up, I heard mom sigh in exasperation, and could feel her moving next to me. Then I felt her hand on my leg, but was it real or in my head?
"Jimmy?" she said, shaking me "Jimmy?"
My tired mind was making it difficult for me to differentiate between what was real and what was a dream. More moving around, and this time I felt her hand on my groin, my cock growing hard as soon as she put her hand on it. Was this real, or was I having a sexual fantasy about my mother?
The next thing I knew she was undoing the tie on my sweatpants, and pulling my cock free. I could feel her hand slowly moving up and down the shaft. The next thing I felt was her wet tongue circling the head of my cock, followed by my cock being covered in the warmth of her mouth as she swallowed it. I finally forced my eyes open and realized I wasn't dreaming! My mother was sucking my cock, and it was incredible! If by chance I was dreaming, I didn't want to wake up.
"Holy shit, mom, what are you...?"
