All characters are 18 or older.
*****
There isn't much build-up to this story, because there wasn't much build-up to what happened. At least from my point-of-view.
I had begun thinking about Mom in
that way
some time before, but never saw any indication that she might reciprocate. We had always been really close, but she was also always
Mom
. At first, that worked against all my deep dirty feelings, but it soon became indistinguishable from them, became what turned me on most, made it so I couldn't separate Mom-as-
Mom
in all her comfort and warmth from her beauty and body. Or how she had me playing with myself every single night.
When I was still in high school, my cousin Sandra, Mom's oldest niece, got engaged and asked my mother to be a bridesmaid. Mom was thrilled—she and Sandra were close, more like sisters, even though Mom was a good 10 years older. My parents had planned on having one boy and one girl before they got divorced, and I suspected Mom's friendship with Sandra made that a little easier to bear.
She knew Mom hadn't dated much, if at all, in the months leading up to the wedding—Sandra had no taboos about sex talk—so she offered to get the hotel to comp a second room for us in case Mom "took to" any of the single guests. I was there in the room when she said this to my mother, who couldn't help blushing, nor more than a couple snuck looks in my direction. Even though my romantic feelings for her were getting more intense by the day, I wasn't bothered at all by the thought of her sleeping with someone else. I just wanted her to be happy, satisfied,
loved
no matter who it might be with.
What
did
bug me was my cousin's equally unfiltered insistence that
I
find someone at the wedding, too. Mom seemed to quiet down when Sandra brought it up, and let her go on with her spiel about all the pretty little things that were apparently dying to know me. At one point I looked over at Mom—she was looking back at me with such intensity that all my faculties seemed to freeze up. We stayed lost in each other till Sandra cleared her throat and caught us up, a little annoyed.
We left for the wedding shortly after noon the next Friday. I had recently got my learner's permit, so Mom agreed to let me start driving. She also reluctantly agreed to let me control the music—I had pre-programmed a bunch of songs into the car stereo. Really, my goal was to show her how many of her favorite singers I had collected into one playlist, just for the trip.
"Oh, I love Emmylou Harris," Mom sighed as "Red Dirt Girl" rumbled through the speakers and we pulled onto the highway. "You got any Bonnie Raitt on here?"
"Sorry. No."
"I saw both of 'em at a festival, back when I was pregnant with you. Your father was away somewhere on business on the last minute, even though we'd had tickets for months. So I said 'screw it' and went alone. Used the money from the other ticket for beer," she smiled shyly, letting her head fall back. "It was wonderful."
I smiled back, marvelling silently at how her beauty at that moment seemed both so otherworldly and natural. Mom looked at the console screen, where the cover of the album was displayed. "Gosh, she's beautiful, isn't she?"
"Not like you," I answered honestly, momentarily disarmed.
She cocked an eye at me. "Oh, yeah?"
I cursed my impulsiveness, but continued. "Her beauty's a little glam-y for me. Worked-over, I guess. I prefer yours. How it seems inherent to you, effortless." She looked startled for a moment, and I added: "But you're both dead-on equal in one sense: more beautiful the older you get."
Mom's eyes looked as if they'd been set ablaze by the Montana sun, dark coppery hair like trees on fire and even in all that radiance I could still see her blush. "I wasn't fishing." She smacked my chest playfully. I reached up and grabbed her hand, not breaking our gaze, intertwining our fingers.
"This is real nice, sweetheart," Mom started as if reading my mind, and cupped my cheek. "But dying would kinda ruin that, wouldn't it?" Then that hot hand on my cheek turned my face back to the road.
She always seemed to get the last laugh.
. . .
We switched seats after the next rest stop. I woke up from a nap to the sublime sounds of Mom singing along to the stereo. I watched the intense movements of her mouth, her trilling tongue for a few moments before speaking.
"Sounds real nice, Mama."
She jumped a little, bringing a hand to her breast. "Oh! Hi, sweetie." She blushed again. "Thank you so much for putting this playlist together. So sweet of you."
"Aw, it was all just a plot to hear you singing to 'em."
She scrunched up her face and stuck her tongue out.
"I sang along to
this
one at that festival in Missouri."
"That sounds nice, too."
"You have no idea." Her voice softened, and she looked a little absent. "Or maybe you do, somehow..."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, when we started walking over to see Bonnie, it started raining. With still all pretty sunlight around everyone, looking so excited. Then by the time she went on, and that voice came out, it was this amazing falling mist, and all those happy people, and me, rubbing my belly under my half-shirt, standin' there in the sunny rain with my baby boy," she paused and took a breath, "...inside me."
I said nothing. What could I say? That I was both profoundly moved and sporting enough wood to put out the windshield?
Now it was Mom's turn to reach a hand out to mine. We rode mostly in silence the rest of the way, buffeted by our sing-a-longs.
. . .
The wedding was at an old but well-kept hotel a little off the main roads, set back amidst a beautiful nest of trees.
Fortunately, the rest of our extended family had something like Mom and Sandra's close relationship to varying degrees, so family get-togethers were never a drag. This meant Sandra and Ted, her husband-to-be, felt comfortable enough to let everyone pick their own seats. (I didn't know anything about weddings, but Mom as we chose our own Mom told me that wasn't usually a popular option with wedding guests.)
I had just started talking with my cousin Glenn and his date, seated across from us, when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned to see an incredibly pretty server holding a bottle of wine, neck tickled with her teased blonde curls.
"Would that be one glass over here for dinner...or two?" She asked us with a smile.
Mom and I shared a look. "It's okay with me if it's okay with you," she said, eyes not leaving mine.
"Are you kidding? I've only been here for an hour, and you guys are already my favorite wedding group ever."
"That's an awful low bar to risk a liquor license for," Mom teased.
"Tell ya what." She looked at me and winked before turning to answer. "Let me know where I can find a strapping young cutie like this, and we'll call it even."
My mom chuckled. "Well, you
start
gettin' them all the same way, but at the end you better make sure you get to the hospital in time for an epidural. The pain ain't worth it." She winked at me. "No matter how cute they are."
It was the waitress's turn to blush as she laughed and touched Mom's arm. "See? Best wedding group
ever
."
. . .
After dinner, Sandra's younger sister Sophie came over to our table to say hello. Both she and Sandra were beautiful, but I had always been drawn to Sophie in particular. When we were younger, we'd sneak away during family get-togethers to make our own fun. I'd always had a crush on her.
Eventually, Mom insisted I stop "doting" on her and go off with some of the younger guests. Reluctantly, I stood. But right before I turned to leave, Mom suddenly reached up, grabbed me by the collar, and pulled my lips down to hers in a kiss. "But don't forget about your date." Her eyes held that same incendiary gaze they had in the car. "Okay?"
"Of course, Mom. I'm your man."
And it burned even brighter. I warmed myself by it before I left.
. . .
Sophie and I drifted around for a while, saying hi here and there, eventually gravitating to the patio where some friends and cousins were hanging out, drinking and passing a joint or two. The beaming bride looked over me and her sister and mock-scolded as we each took a hit. Christ, they're gorgeous, I thought to myself, eyes passing between them under the shifting network of magic lanterns. I couldn't help thinking about a photo set I had found online, of a set of triplets before a wedding, two sisters helping the third get dressed, and wondered if Sandra, Sophie, and maybe even my MILF of an aunt had shared a similar scene that afternoon. I then realized how horny the weed was already making me, and excused myself to clear my head.
Plus, I missed my mom.
. . .
Back inside, I put it in a request to the DJ and found Mom sitting with my Aunt Charlotte, her sister and the girls' mom. I asked Mom if she would like to dance, and she leapt up right away. My aunt said she couldn't blame her, but I doubt Mom heard her, zealously pulling me towards the dance floor like she was. I was transfixed by the sight of her from behind in her backless dress, the fine yet fleshy ridges of her back gliding down to her wide ass. It swayed from side-to-side and had me almost fully hard before we reached the spot Mom had chosen, a fair bit to the side, moonlit across the floor by a series of small windows above.
Bonnie Raitt began the first words of "I Feel the Same" and Mom gripped around the back of my neck where she'd laced her fingers. She looked at me intently. "Was this you? This song?"
Truthfully, I had only asked for Bonnie Raitt. I knew next to nothing about her, just that earlier wasn't the first time I had heard Mom singing along to her. But I just smiled knowingly, and told her I loved her.
"Please believe me, I feel the same" sang sweetly from the speakers and Mom looked at my dreamily, eyes glistening just a little. "I love you, too, Bradley."
I leaned in to peck her on the cheek, but she turned her head and met my lips with her own. I froze, stunned, and I think she was too, at first. I heard her inhale sharply and felt my lips being kneaded, like I was at a distance from myself. But then her tongue touched mine and I was rocketed into the moment, my virginal moves trying desperately to keep up with her expert ones. I was worried I went too far when I wrapped my lips around her tongue and she immediately pulled back and closed her eyes. She re-opened them and looked around quickly; no one had seen us.
"Everything okay, Mom?"
"I don't know, honestly." I couldn't read the expression on her face. "How are you feeling?"
"G-good," I sputtered, maybe too eagerly. She smiled and I tried to steady my nerves.
"Didn't have too much to drink?"
"Nope."
"Didn't smoke any of the wacky tobacky with Sophie and her friends?"
"No!" I lied.
"'Kay. Just checking."
"Why?"
Just then the chorus of the song came round again. Mom sighed and moved her face towards mine. Bonnie Raitt's "I feel the same" was joined in an instant by Mom's low breathy mimic right into my ear, ringing through my body like a shotgun blast.
"Bradley?" Mom jolted me awake. A song I didn't recognize was playing. "Listen to me, okay?" She giggled, smiled with complete understanding. "I'm going to go up to my room now." She pressed her extra key into my palm. "I want you to wait five minutes, then come up. Got it?"
I swallowed. "Five minutes. Then follow you up...to your room."
"Good boy." She kissed me on the cheek, then shifted her lips into the small hot space beside my ear. "This is going to be so good, Bradley. I love you more than anything, sweetheart."
And then she was gone, leaving me to kick off the longest five minutes of my life with a hard-on that was rapidly approaching full-strength.
What the hell do you do while waiting to fuck your mom?
I scanned the ballroom aimlessly, trying to quiet my nerves. There were still quite a few people dancing and mingling. I looked for Sophie but couldn't find her.
I'd decided to head to the washroom to wait out my sentence when I glanced past the bar and met a pair of eyes that had apparently been waiting for mine: the cute blonde server's. She waved me over, smiling mischievously, and I shuffled across to her with lead feet. The last thing I needed right now was
