[Β©2011 BY CLINTON09; ALL CHARACTERS ARE OVER THE AGE OF 18 WITH IDENTITIES DISGUISED; FOR AGES 21 OR ABOVE]
[A young man returns home to find a neglected hot MILF mom and a rapidly withering father. He tries not to take advantage of the situation...no, really...]
I'm going to tell you right up front: it wasn't my fault. It wasn't like I planned on being kicked out of the house at eighteen, and then allowed back, only to do my supersexy mom. If that's the way it turned out, well, it wasn't my fault.
I remember my senior year in high school. Every weekend, my parents would go to friends' cocktail parties. When they left, my parents were all formal, button-down, and conservative. My father would always drive the Lincoln Town Car. He wore the exact same three piece suit, the one he inherited from his pop.
My mother, on the other hand, would wear the latest fashion from Macy's. Whereas I was 18, my mom was 37, he was 48, going on 68. Bald and pasty, he looked just like Uncle Fester (from 'Addams' Family' fame.)
My mother, on the other hand, looked like a Hollywood starlet who'd been poured into her dress. No, actually, it looked like she had on nothing, the 'dress' just spray-painted on. Mom was a petite Clairol blonde, almost five foot two, with big tits and fantastic legs.
I'm ashamed to admit that when I left home at eighteen, I stole some old pictures of her in her Catalina swimsuit and at a few weddings. To be honest, those pictures helped me on those nights that I didn't, ahem, have any dates...
So just to get you caught up, I was forced by the old man to move out of the house at 18, though they had no grand designs for my room and I had nowhere to go. My 'old man' laughed when he heard I had to 'crash' at the men's mission for a while. Things looked grim.
Then fortunes changed. Leaving yet another one of those cocktail parties, the 'old man' insisted on driving. My mom struggled with the keys but in his drunken rage, he slapped her really hard. She had to let him drive. One tree later, mom was only shaken up, but he was much worse off. He had to walk with a cane and was far too weak to take care of the big home. At that point, I was asked to temporarily move back home. I did, with no questions asked.
From that moment on, you could literally feel the balance of power in that home shift. I admitted to myself that I wanted mom, badly. I would do what I could to achieve that goal of bedding my gorgeous mother. There was just something primal of wanting to possess her and breed her. My dream of having my MILF mom bouncing into things in our house with a swollen belly, carrying my child, was about to become reality.
It was the 20th anniversary of my mom's high school graduation. She didn't want to go there with her real husband, but had to ask. He waved her off, brandishing his cane, saying that she should take her 'worthless, no account, son' instead. So, she asked me. I had no intention of being bored to death at some high school 'fake prom' and said no.
Mom: "Jim, is there ANYTHING I can do to talk you into it?"
Me: "Yes, show me what you were planning to wear and I'll tell you."
Well, you never saw someone rush like she did. As her 'old man' was stretched out on the bed, as always, watching PBS re-runs of 'Lawrence Welk', she frantically tore thru her dresser and laid out an outfit.
When she was finished, she re-considered. Knowing where my mind might be headed, she lovingly put the undies away. The bra stayed in the drawer; then she reached in the back for some open front thong bottoms from a gag party she attended.
While her 'old man' lay glassy-eyed on the bed, mom wiggled into the small size undies, then the dress. The dress was tiny too, the same one she wore at the actual high school prom. It was short, about mid-thigh, and tight. Mom was a lot 'bigger' up top now. The material was stretched to the limits. If she so much as coughed, two big Playboy-foldout quality boobs would be in her cocktail.
From that same party where her friends sold each other gag sexual toys, mom had a pair of slutty stripper platform shows in Lucite. Talk about clear, they were 100% see-thru so that you could see the fire-engine red toes and slender ankles of my mom's gorgeous feet top AND bottom thru the clear soles.
Taking a deep breath so that nothing tore a seam, my hot mom wiggled out to let her son review her outfit. As she walked, her heavy breasts bounced and bounced. She stood before me, posing front, side and back. That dress hugged mom's still pert bum, accentuated her slim waist, and thus emphasized her oversized jugs. When she'd worn it out with the 'old man' he made her wear a bra but also band-aids over her large pouting nipples.
Well, here she was, braless and beautiful, and those angry nipples were about to poke right thru the material. God, she was a walking 'wet dream'. I hoped that she didn't see that I'd gotten rock hard. Somehow, I controlled myself and nodded blankly that the outfit was 'okay, I guess'.
Mom couldn't wait to see her old friends but was concerned about introducing her own son as her escort. She asked me if I would join her the night before we left for the re-union, so that she could tint my hair too. In my case, it would be a 'touch of grey'. For the chance to bed mom, you better believe I went along with her plan.
The drive to her old home town would take several hours. She curled up on the reclining passenger front seat. Wearing only shorts and a wispy thin T-top for the trip, I could see mom's beautiful face, jutting tits, tanned shapely legs, and soft, demure perfect feet. She slept for two hours and I spent two hours just taking her all in.
By the time we got to the hotel, I had a mental map of every square inch of her incredible figure. I warmed up my right hand against the hot car window, and then gingerly placed it on her slender ankle. To my relief, it worked and she didn't stir. Gently, oh-so-very-gently, I caressed her shapely legs and gorgeous smooth feet. Everything was so baby soft. I had to stop or I was going to lose it. As it was, there was an 'extra gear shift' in the car for the whole trip.
I was delighted that we had one room, albeit with two double beds. As we settled in for the night, I worked out with the light dumbbells I'd packed. Mom came out of the dressing area of the hotel room, just wearing a peignoir. It was conservative, as she'd worn it 1,000 times at home. However, as the bright bathroom light illuminated that nightgown in an otherwise darkened room, I could see right thru it like 'x-ray vision'.