Last month, someone said that all possible variations of the legendary story by GeorgeAnderson, February Sucks, have been covered. Uhhh... not so fast.
If you don't like those stories, don't read this. You've been warned.
***
Driving home, Jim's mind remained frozen, unable to process the callous, cold way Linda had tossed him aside. Did ten years of marriage and the future of growing old together as a family really mean less than a single night with an arrogant manwhore who would not even remember her name the next day?
The evidence was in--actions louder than words. On their special night. That sure told him where he and the kids stood. Wow.
Tonight, he did not want to be alone. He picked up his phone and called his mother. She probably was asleep already, but he knew she loved him and wouldn't mind. His dad had passed a few years earlier, and she'd moved closer to her only son. In fact, her house was closer to where was at that moment than his own.
He was right--she didn't mind. Once he explained what happened, and she got over her shock, her voice was clear. "Come home, son, you don't deserve to be alone." She knew him, he realized, and her love was true and unconditional.
"It's cold," she continued, "so I'll stay in bed. The door will be unlocked. Just come in. I'll be in my room."
Like Tom Bodette, she'd left the light on for him. He entered, locked up and turned off the lights downstairs. He took off his coat and shoes by the front door and, climbing the stairs, he saw the master bedroom's light.
"Is that you, Jim?" she called.
"No, Mrs. Carlisle, it's the bogeyman. I've finally woken up after twenty years to come and repay you for using me to scare your son." He had no idea where that came from, but the mood lift lightened his heart.
"Wheee, nooooo!" she cried, laughing.
When he entered her bedroom, she had pulled the blankets over her head, trying to hide, while the bed shook with her laughter.
Without warning, he lifted the blankets, dove into her bed, and drew her into a hug. While he reached for a kiss, the telegraph from his hands finally came through--his mother slept in the nude! Her warm arms encircled him and drew him in. "Welcome home, son. The home where you will always be loved."
Their lips met. Hers were warm and soft. It wasn't a sexual kiss, but the warmth and the length was not a pure mother's peck, either. It held comfort and unconditional affection. After the kiss, she held him. "My lovely son."
Without any thought, Jim's hands drifted down his mom's smooth back until they reached her soft, full ass. His cock sprang to attention. He kissed her ear and replied, "I love you too, my beautiful mother. Thank you for always being there for me."
He pulled back and saw the love in her eyes. Again, he leaned forward and gave her a soft, lingering kiss.
She pulled him down to her shoulder. "You're safe here with mommy. Come," and she surprised him by holding up an ample breast to him, her nipple to his mouth.
With no thought, he opened, took it in and began sucking. His mind whirred like a blender. This is weird. But good. His heart, though, settled into a deep, deep comfort. He didn't feel infantile or regressed in any way. The trauma of the evening was extreme, calling for an extreme gesture of comfort. Turning off his mind he sucked, sighing in peaceful contentment.
His hand gently squeezed her other breast and rubbed the stiffening nipple. The sucking must have produced a reaction in his mother, as she softly moaned and her lower body began moving in a humping motion.
Taking a chance, he got out, took off all his clothes, while her eyes lowered to his towering member. He got back in and kissed her again. This kiss turned primal in a hurry as their tongues met and urgently engaged, for what seemed like hours, as he lost track of time.
He slid his hand down her matronly stomach until it reached her secret place. She opened her legs and bent her knees in invitation. Her pubic hair was wet and her lower lips open in welcome. Slowly he rubbed her slit up and down, spreading the moisture to her hardening clit. This was so different to what he ever had with Linda. Impossible to describe, it combined forbidden and welcome.
Welcome won. While they kissed in feverish passion, he slid two fingers into her wet pussy. She groaned and within a few minutes of him fingering her, she came with a load wail.
When she came down, she said, "Come, my baby, come and take your place inside of me. Where you will always be welcome, and never rejected."
Without thinking, Jim rolled between her legs and sank his rockhard cock into her welcoming wetness. Her legs encircled his waist and her ankles locked behind his back. The feeling was off the charts. Totally unlike with Linda, her slick warmth engulfed him as he slid home all the way. This was love, not fucking.
With no words, they slowly savored the intimacy, the love, the restoration flowing from her, and appreciation and affection flowing from him. Because they moved so slowly savoring the moment, it took quite a while before nature took over. She pulled him down for another deep kiss, looked deep into his eyes and whispered, "I'm ready, my stud. Make your mother cum. It's been years."
Keeping eye contact, he sped up. Right before his eyes, his matronly mother turned into a rutting animal as she urged him on, using words he'd never heard from her, ever. "Yes, fuck me, take me, make me yours."
Then her body stiffened, and her eyes rolled back in her head. Her inner walls clenched and unclenched around him as she came. That pulled him over the edge and he blasted his essence into her. For a few moments they lay together, huffing, sweating, catching their breath.
He rolled off and, lying next to her, leaned over and kissed her again. "I love you so, so much, sexy mother of mine."
She grinned. "Bet you didn't know your old mom had that in her, did you?"
