It Happened Lie That

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All characters in the story are over 18.

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My name is Anthony, and this is my entry of an event that happened years ago. I have not talked about it with anyone and will probably never do so, but, I needed to get it out of my head, the complication - my mother's involvement. The recollection of my past might not be arranged perfectly, as these random thoughts are striking me as I write.

My mother got married when she was 19, but her marriage had not worked out. My parents separated even before I was born, and so I never saw my father. She hated him quite a bit. I guess that made her lose faith in the theory of marriage, she never got married again. I remember she had a few male friends. At one point she even came close to a wedding again, she had asked me if I objected to her marrying one of her colleagues. I was too young to understand or even have an opinion about it at that point. By the way it did not work out, and if it had, I guess this would never have happened. For the money she worked various jobs; sometimes, my grandparents supported us financially. We lived in a 2 room flat, which was a small one but in a decent locality. We managed to get along, but anyone who has had a similar situation will understand that the real trouble is with the doubts people have, mostly about themselves. She always wondered if it were possible that she could fulfil the roles of both father and mother.

We have always been very close. I mean, the only family we had was each other. As a child I remember lying on my moms cot when we slept, and she'd draw lines on my back with her finger tips, I remember that is when I drifted closest to heaven. I'd go to sleep like a baby. Well, eventually, as I grew older I had trouble being a teenager. It was difficult phase, and when we got angry there was no one to correct either of us, when we had an argument there was no one to support her argument. I always thought I was correct and it was always one against the other, we would scream at each other and tire ourselves out. Of course, later on I realized I was bloody lucky to have someone like her. I loved her. I guess all this growing up business strengthened our relationship. There was no obligation for either of us to roleplay a 'lady' or a 'gentleman'. She even shared her love for alcohol with me as I got old enough. What was complicated to others was simple to us. No one trespassed into our world. In our close quarters (in our flat) she always dressed for work right in front of me like it was the most obvious thing to do and I did the same. She'd come out of her bath in her inner clothing and a towel wrapped around her. I remember her getting ready to go to work; for her it was always an emergency, finding the right things, getting ready... it was such a fuss. She would always come home with a thousand problems from work and tell me all about the people she liked and hated, the alcohol really helped her on such days. Until I was about 11 or so I ran around naked and after that, my next civilised standard for being decently clothed at home was wearing only my briefs. She never corrected me about it, and even after I realized this was a little non traditional, I realized we were not the average family. I realized she never had any company, at least not that I knew of. When I had started dating seriously(must have been 17) I realized she was alone. I had tried to imagine what if would be like to be 36 and not have any romantic companions. The thought would always make me feel very uneasy.

I once asked her "Mom, why don't you date someone now? I think you should, I want you to know, I will always remember that I have been the only guy in your life all these years, but, now, I realise how difficult it must have been without any company. Please mom, I really wish you would."

Then, looking away from me she had replied "I love you too Anthony ".

"But mom, why the hell not? Its not only about love. Isn't it about enjoying some one's company? That is what people do. I am sure lots of men must like you, and admire you, if only you allowed them a chance?"

She wouldn't argue any more, but what could I say? How the hell could I advice her about it? We were each others worlds. She would of course always enquire about how my dates went, she'd tell me to always treat a girl with courtesy and be affectionate. I was a very nice kid that way, but, I should have had my horses on leash.

I remember, it was December, on a chill night, a particular date had left me quite embarrassed, the girl and I had not gone all the way yet, but I had wanted to that day, and I found her very complicated, she'd walked away angry and left me very upset. I had wanted to have sex before the new year, but it wasn't exactly supposed to be so. Wrecked, I did beer with my friends and got back home late. Mom was awake; I was feeling very groggy, and without saying a word to her, I washed myself and fell into bed. I couldn't fall asleep, trying to was of no use, and when I felt her presence, she was sitting beside me.

Laying her hand on my back she asked "Pudding, you look awful, what is wrong?" Her concerned voice was trying to make me talk my mind out to her, trying to help me out in anyway she could.

But I was restless and I was feeling that defeat in me. I was wanting to go boxing, I just wanted to punch something real bad, or swimming perhaps, physical activity always drew my energies out, I loved the strain. (I swim and love the Atlantic). I felt like digging myself hole in the earth, I wanted to exhaust myself.

I was just in no mood to talk. Not fully aware of what I was trying to say I blurted out " Mom.. I'm okay, I really don't have anything to say right now."

After a moment she still pursued "But you are looking very upset Anthony, wont you even tell your mother what is happened? You'll feel better, just say it out."

I tried not to yell, I calmed myself down, holding her hand in mine, I closed my eyes and snuggled close to her, feeling her against me. In a minute I was feeling better, she just felt so soft, I could feel her warmth permeate through her clothing. Getting up, I brought us a bottle of rum and coke and sat beside her. We usually drank rum after an argument, but now I felt like talking, I wanted to relax.

"I think there must be some kind of a problem with me mom, I just don't understand what went wrong. Jessy and I went out today but...." Expressing my argument against that girl I took my own time, staring into my emptying glass, filling it again. She had stopped looking at me halfway through our talk and turned her head away, emptying rum into herself, looking into nothing. By the time I was done explaining we must have been quite liquored up. Putting our glasses aside we lay down and still holding her hand to my chest; I felt exhausted.I didn't know if she had been listening to me up till now.

Chuckling rudely in a vulgar way she said "Don't you realise you are actually angry because that girl didn't go to bed with you?" She was laughing to herself now. That was the greatest insult any man could face; blamed for being unsuccessful at sleeping with a girl. I was growling in distaste.

She continued "I never realized you've grown to become your dad Anthony, you are acting just like he used to."

I was very upset, first, because I had expected her to take my side in this matter, and second because she was comparing me to my father. I knew she hated him. I was very unsure now - if she was angry with me for what I had done, or if she was angry with me because she felt I was behaving like my father. She was not 'just drunk', she was talking rubbish.

"Anthony, you know, your dad used to tell me that his dick got long and hard every time he looked at women. Is that now happening to you too?"

OK. STOP. NOW - here is reality, mom and I have always been able to discuss everything. From the point when she told me I was supposed to clean inside that skin over my penis head, to the day when she had noticed my hard-on when I woke up in the morning. We had even discussed about nocturnal emissions. For that matter, she even told me everything I knew about female physiology, pregnancy and what not. It was always information which I grasped and it was never taboo. It never become an embarrassment. She had a direct and simple approach. I was used to that.

But now, the way in which she was using words was way too vulgar. Telling me about my dad.

She went on "Your dad actually tried the same thing on me, the only difference being that he succeeded."

She had a wild look on her now. "I got pregnant because he did it, I never even knew I was going to... What he did to me was rape and now that man's son wants to become like his father." She was not sounding angry, she was not yelling. She was speaking matter-of-factly.

Looking into my eyes she said "Does your penis also get long and hard when you look at girls? You think of having sex with them all, don't you?" I had no idea what to say. She sounded so cruel to me. Still continuing that stare she started the unthinkable, she freed her hand from mine (I had not let it go, I must have been stunned) and slid it down my stomach into my briefs.

That finger burnt a trail over my stomach, those fingers slipped past my navel down into the strap of the boxer brief I was wearing. I was looking down, her forefinger slipping into my boxer, and then I saw another finger follow it, and then felt her whole hand slip inside, I felt the tips of her finger nails comb over the hair and then at last I felt her fingers grasping my cock that was resting on my balls, obedient and unaware so far.

That was the one second of my life when I felt the most helpless and immobile. I just felt like I was just a boy who looked too tall and too young for his age. Her warm fingers grasped my penis drawing it away from its resting place into her hand...

To truly picture me in this sexual predicament I must describe that woman who is responsible. My mother's name doesn't matter. She is about a 5' 8" tall. We're from the east coast, but she's got the the fairest skin I have ever touched so far(even up till now). She ties her hair in a pony tail covering her neck up to the shoulders. On her neck (years after that incident I still dream of it) she'd wear a cross(I remember it from that incident), that night her shoulders fit right between my shoulders, those 34c breasts not leaving any gap unfilled between us. Her fragile waist serves the only purpose of connecting her torso to her hips, and those hips spread underneath her figure when she sat. Even her legs are a distraction. She was also god fearing, a very strange quality that must be mentioned in this circumstance. Oh and her fingers, so delicate, they looked divine.. She is the most good looking woman whose image got printed into my memory, very vividly. She looks as good looking to me as a man finds his first lover. We were not making love. It wasn't spontaneous either. It just happened.

Coming back to my sin... I had frozen realising what was happening. I felt her hand squeezing my penis, I gasped, I could not push myself away from that sensation, nor could I control that massive surge passing through me. I could feel my own heart beat. On the other hand my penis was reacting even more violently, it was erect now in her hands, twitching uncontrollably inside my boxers. She had been holding the base of my penis and now as my penis had grown erect I felt my cock-head press into the cloth, which truly felt very rough. Her grip had pulled down the skin exposing my pee hole. She tried holding it all over as before but her fingers could only try and surround my penis.

All this happened so fast and now, I was looking at my mom who was looking back, and opened her mouth to say "You're even better than your father here, you bastards." She had a wicked smile on her face now. "I know how much your father liked this, but I want to hear YOU tell me - are you or are you not enjoying this?"

"It must feel good having your own mother holding your hard cock. It is alive in my hand."

Unable to understand how to reply I said " Moooom what are you doing? If you don't stop this I will leave this place right now (like as if I even could)." We were lying on our sides facing each other. Taking her other hand she rubbed it over my erect tent, teasing me, torturing me. She was killing me.

With her fingers she held my cock head and whispered to me "Just confess, Anthony, I can see it in your face, is this not what you wanted today with that girl? Isn't this what you want? I can make you feel things you'd never have felt if it were her. I want you to confess."

I was unable to move, overcome with madness and lust, my eyes shifted between her eyes and the prominent swell in her night dress. The skin over her breasts spread tightly over each mound and announced their presence from within the dress. It looked as if that piece of cloth could never fully hide their contents. She, fully aware of my state, held down my cock to my stomach with the hand that was inside my boxer and with the other pulled the strap of my boxer down until it was beneath my balls. My penis felt that chill cold outside the boxer and with both her hands she pulled down the foreskin until it hurt and it stretched no longer. My penis looked like a tower pointing in her direction. Still holding my cock with one hand, she put her other hand over my shoulder and pulled herself closer. My penis was now trapped between my stomach and hers.

Pressing herself hard to me she brought her mouth close to mine and whispered "You cannot deny this to yourself even if it is from your own mother, can you?". If I had any strength or will, they were dead, I gave up thinking, I could only feel my cock throbbing alive between us and her face was so close to mine.

If there was any control, it was her power over mine. My hands were frozen to my sides, it felt like they were stuck to me. Raising one hand I held her face and drew my lips to hers.. beyond my own control, I pressed into those soft lips. Drawing back for a moment she parted her lips and pressed back into mine. I was sucking at her lower lip when she pressed her tongue to me. I let it inside, where her tongue found mine, sucking on each other and tasting each other, her hands she was now tugging my boxer down to my thighs and I kicked them off. I was lying naked, holding my mother tightly and groping myself into her stomach, and with my hands I reached down to her waist and pulled her pelvis to me, while she clutched my hair with her fingers and continued kissing me furiously.

We were still lying on our sides when she stopped abruptly and lay on her back. She said "You are as shameless as your father was. Touching your own mother and getting pleasure out of it." Looking at my penis she said "You have got that from your father to do what you both do. " I had no answers.

Hurling reason away, I grabbed one of her arms pulled her closer. My strength felt alive and she didn't push me away. I had no plans, I had no intentions. I didn't know what I wanted to do. I got on top of her and started kissing her, she didn't resist. It was as if we were testing each other to see how far I was willing to go. I was kissing her jaw and under her ears, She bent her body, arching her back impossibly, allowing me access to her. I sucked at her collar bone, pecking at her skin. I buried my face in her neck, breathing her scent deeply inside. I felt drugged, my brain felt like it was suspended in anesthesia, she smelled like a lovely poison, it was intoxicating, I stayed buried in her neck like that for a minute, sprawled over her, feeling our hearts thumping. I could feel the repeating rhythm of her heart, her nipples poking into my chest through her night dress.

I must have been drifting in space where no laws exist, where there are no rules nor do other people, no one could hear us, no one could see us, no one in the world knew we even existed at that point. Nothing mattered.

She whispered in my ear "You are taking what you want from me, you bastard?" I slid my hand underneath her waist and she lifted her hips. I pulled her night dress up, above her knees, past her thighs, over her waist until it lay collected at her neck. She had no panties on, but she was wearing a bra. I pressed my mouth over her breasts hurriedly, shifting the cups away, I looked at her breasts, those nipples pointing up towards the ceiling, very erect and dark, in complete contrast to her skin. She looked at me as I drew a nipple into my mouth and sucked on it. This time it was her turn to gasp. She was breathing in through her teeth, her jaws closed, but her lips parted open, sucking air into her. Kneading each one alternately, I sucked hard at her nipple and held it between my teeth, biting it, and on her areola. She was thrashing furiously under me now, her breasts raised up in the air directly at my mouth, and her eyes shut tightly. I kept at it until she shivered and pushed me off. Sitting up and raising her hands she slipped her gown off of her, her bra was still hooked at her back although the shoulder straps had fallen to her sides, the bra cups under the breasts leaving them exposed. Rising up I sat facing her, our nakedness made no meaning, except that my stiff cock bent at a slight angle towards her stomach. I drew her legs over mine and reaching back, unhooked her bra.. it sipped and fell off her.

I drew her legs wide and pushed my fingers into her, which slipped past easily.. she kept her eyes closed all the time. I kept up the in-and-out motion, without pausing, only changing the pace, starting with deep long strokes and then inserting another finger inside, I rapidly scrubbed her inside. She was getting wetter every moment, I had never touched anything like it before. But it seemed like the obvious thing. Instinct guides us through a lot of things which we never even realise. She kept moaning as I fingered her, held her mouth open in a half scream while I looked at her face, her brows frowning in concentration, breathing heavily sometimes while I rubbed her clit with my thumb.

She spoke again, her voice sounding sore "Anthony, you really are killing me. What we are doing is very bad. We must not...". Forcing this out, she lay back on the pillow pinching her nipples with one hand and stroking my cock with another with a look of complete surrender on her face. I felt so powerful having a woman submitting so completely to my pleasure. My penis on the other hand was choking, its head had turned a dark shade, and the veins looked like roots supporting its erect structure. Her scent filled the air..

As I fingered her, I sat between her legs facing her but now I wanted to do things I had only seen on the Internet. Leaving her pussy drenched and gaping open I sat on her chest supporting myself on my knees and I pressed my penis between her breasts. She shrugged and pushed them together around my dick. It was like heaven, feeling her soft breasts surrounding my penis. I was probably showing off to her, pointing my penis towards her mouth, I was hoping she would, but she wouldn't take it inside. I rubbed my penis-head all around her nipple and areola in circles over her breast leaving a wet trail of my pre-cum, drying on her skin as I drew along. She looking at me now, not saying a word, I was gleaming, unable to withhold myself from this excitement.

I now know neither one of us had planned this, it was not a decision which was taken. It happened, like everything else, without a reason, it was meant to be, and if someone thinks of a reason for its happening I will disagree.

Getting back between her legs, I lay on top of her and we kissed. Our warm and sticky bodies brushing against one another, friction between us, our mouths glued to each other, sucking, biting, exploring, tongues twirling like snakes. At this point my penis was rubbing against her stomach and my balls lay on her pussy hair. Her hair tickled my balls and I could feel the warmth of those open lips. She had embraced me, her arms around my back and was now pushing my face down to her chest again.