My father divorced my mother when I was five years old. After their divorce, my mother dedicated herself to raising me, her only child. She never dated or at least to knowledge; she only worked and supported me as much as she could. After I graduated from high school about two years ago and began college I worried about her future health. She was in her mid-forties, overweight, and rather lonely. I was living at home while attending school, but knew that I would move out in a maybe about a year. What would become of her when I left I didn't know. Her whole adult life had been a servile existence to me and breaking that would be difficult for her.
I made a plan to get my mom a date. Unfortunately, she didn't have any friend to assist her in finding a man. Instead, I convinced her, one long night while we drank too much cheap wine, to open an online dating profile and search for older single men with whom she could begin a relationship with. She was quite resistant at first but with went after I convinced her.
"Dating is a young person's thing, honey. I can't do that anymore. I wouldn't even know how to behave on a date; it's been so long since I've had one," she pleaded at first.
"Mother," I argued, "you need to get out of this boring house. You spend all your time at work or in this house and I think that you are wasting your life. Go have some fun for once. You are still young enough to go out and enjoy yourself, aren't you? And I don't want you to be one of those parents that dies of depression and boredom after their kids move out and start their own life."
"But I'm not attractive. No man could ever find me attractive anymore ever since I lost my figure," she confessed tears forming. This was something I had worried about. After my father left she had gained weight and stopped taking such great care of herself. Eating a lot of fast food and not working out, her hips, tummy, and breasts had grown round and her face had begun to show age. It was a sensitive subject that she never brought up, but I had assumed it was motivating her self-imposed seclusion and depression.
"Mom, you are so totally beautiful," I said. "Your eyes and smile are as lovely as ever, your sense of style is sharp, and your curves are something men are going to crave for."
"You mean I'm fat don't you."
"No! You are not fat. You are shapely and in your prime and I think that you'll find many men will kill to get to know you." I wasn't lying either. While she was certainly not petite, she carried her weight well, as some women can. Her body seemed proportional and accented by her large soft breasts and bubble butt.
We kept drinking the cheap wine and arguing for a few more hours until she finally agreed. When she did I got out my laptop and we built her profile that night. Over the coming days many men would communicate and propose a date to her. We would talk about her online activity each day, but each new man that came along she would reject or ignore completely. Once again, I feared that she was protecting her loneliness and I pushed her to accept an offer to meet a man for casual drinks one Saturday night.
After dinner on that Saturday night my mother went to get ready for her first date in over a decade. I was excited for her. This would be her chance to become something other than just a mother and care for me. When she came out of her room I was astonished. She was wearing a black dress that complimented her body shape and gave a plenty of cleavage to view. She was beautiful! Her legs were thin and more athletic than one might assume. Her breasts seemed on the verge of falling out of her dress and her hips and ass swayed hypnotically as she walked out of the room.
"Wow! Mom! You've never looked so amazing before. He's get no shot; he'll fall for you in a millisecond and then you wont be so lonely with me gone."
"Thanks, sweetie," she said, giving me her lovely, motherly smile and kiss on the forehead. She wrapped her arms around my back. She held me tight and confessed, "I'm so scared. I hope that I just have some fun tonight instead being cooped up in this old house."
"I have complete faith in you, mom," I whispered. I was suddenly frightened. I felt a stirring in my crotch and knew where the source was coming from. For the first time in my life my mother had given me a hard on. Her new dress and her cleavage began the awakening, but when she held me and I felt her fleshy form in my arms and her big boobs crushed against my muscular frame, my dick went instantly hard. I feared that she would feel it and I tried to angle my crotch away from hers. Finally, after a long pause, she released me. And without much ceremony she kissed me quickly on the mouth, grabbed her purse, and left for her date.
I was stunned after she left. My dick was rock hard and straining to get out of my khaki pants. I was horny, but in a conflicted way. Along with the desire she had raised in me, I also felt a pang of jealousy and disgust with myself. Once I felt my body long for my mother's, I simultaneously desired her all for myself and suddenly was angry at myself for encouraging her to go meet some strange man she barely even knew. I was doubly frustrated now, dammit. The only thing that I could think to do was sneak into her room and fulfill my new-found fantasy through her panties and leave it at that. As a curious child I had snuck into my parent's bedroom, as most kids do I guess at the age of four. But I hadn't thought of peeking in her draws or going through her laundry in years. Now, however, with my dick rock hard, I needed release and if I couldn't get it from her then I would use her panties as a backup.
In my room I took off all of my clothes and saw myself in the mirror. I was rather good-looking I thought. My frame was lean and athletic and my fully erect penis, which still hadn't subsided since my mother touched me, stood out from my crotch in a glorious display of masculinity and dominance.
Still nude, I opened my mother's door and went inside her room. I stroked my cock slowly and stared at her wooden dresser. Her panties! Yes, I would go through her panties and use it to masturbate. Maybe I would even steal some of it to keep and use as I needed in the near future. But then my eyes caught something even more enticing. Her laundry basket! Her dirty panties even better! I ran to it and opened the basket. There, on top, was a dirty pair of large panties. I grabbed it and sat down on her bed. Its scent was potent - a mixture of stinky sweat and feminine juices. I brought it to my nose to breathe it in more closely, my hand yanking my cock more fast paced now. I did this until I finally felt the cum deep in my balls waken and I came violently like a water hose, there on my mother's bed, into her dirty panties. It was the most erotic thing I had ever felt and I felt like I was on cloud nine. I was cumming to a fantasy of my mom, to her scent, and among her private possessions.
After I cleaned up I put my mother's panties back into her laundry and took a cold shower. I felt partially embarrassed by my actions, but the horniness and lust for my mother lingered and outweighed what guilt I felt for invading her space fantasizing about her delicious, gorgeous body. After my shower I sat down to watch a movie in my white t-shirt and flannel PJs pants, waiting for her return.
I didn't have to wait long; not one hour after I showered, my mother came through the door. She didn't look at me at first. She seemed furious.
"Mom, what happened?" I asked.
She tried to walk past me, to her room, but I jumped up and wrapped my arms around her to stop her. "Why are you home so early, mom?" I asked again.
She turned and looked at me. It was obvious that she had been crying her eyes out. Her eyes were red ,puffy and her makeup had run down her face.
"He showed me up," she said in an I-told-you-so tone.
"He never showed up?"
"I don't know if he did or not. But he never came to me."
"huh?" I asked.
"I mean, what if he came, saw me in person, and left? What if he rejected me cause I'm fat?" She suddenly burst into tears. She felt rejected, lonely, and hurt. I pulled her down to the couch and wrapped her in my strong arms. She cried into my shoulder, her whole body shaking with her sobs. It was her worst fear realized, that nobody would love her.
