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Copyright: 2004 all rights reserved.
I sat holding her as she cried. "It's ok mom! It's not the end of the world!" Mom's face was buried in my chest. The sobs that wracked her body caused her chest to jiggle against my shirt. And this didn't do anything to help the raging hardon that was threatening to push thru my pajama pants.
The only light on was the moonlight coming thru the window. The cover that mom had pulled over herself had slipped down a bit from her crying and I could clearly see her big tits. Her nipples seemed huge. I wanted to bend my head and capture one in my mouth.
"Oh Sammy! I'm so embarrassed! What must you think of me?" I rubbed her back, marveling at how smooth her skin felt. "To walk in and see your own mother acting like some wanton slut!" This caused a new set of wracking sobs.
"Mom! You are not some wanton slut! And there is no need for you to be embarrassed. Hell! Remember when you walked in on me? I was standing in the middle of the bathroom, a pair of your dirty panties wrapped around my dick, jerking for all I was worth. Now that was embarrassing!"
Mom sniffled but I could hear a slight chuckle in her voice. "I thought you would kill me! Instead, you took me in the room and explained that it was normal for a young boy to want to masturbate. Hell, you told me more about sex that day then at any other time in my life."
I stopped talking and continued to rub her back. Mom snuggled a bit closer to me, working her head deeper into my chest. "Mom?" I could feel her skin against the open shirt. Her face felt hot and warm and I felt my dick throbbing. I'm sure that she felt it too."
She sniffed again. "Yes Sammy?" Her voice had gained some of its composure. "Do you remember what I told you when you asked me what I had been thinking about?" I felt her stiffen. I was afraid that she would push away from me and tell me to leave.
"Yes Sammy I do remember. You told me that you were thinking about me. I told you that it was normal for a young man to be in love with his mom, but that good boys didn't let that kind of thinking go on for too long. Besides, I was much younger then and a lot prettier."
I laughed. "Mom, you are still the prettiest, sexiest woman I know." She laughed and nudged me in the ribs. "No I'm not! I'm old! And this medicine has blown me up to look like a blimp!" I gave mom a harder hug. Then I began to laugh.
"Mom! If you look like a blimp! Then you are a blimp that I would love to make love to any day of the week. Hell! You look twice as hot as any woman I have ever gone out with."
Let me tell you a bit about us. Mom is 49. When she was pregnant with my sister Gwendolyn, my dad decided to split. Mom had a few boyfriends, but mostly it has been just the three of us. I am 28. I have my own business and live just outside the city.
Mom had gotten sick and was taking some medicine that seemed to have an adverse on her. She gained weight and was depressed most of the time. Gwendolyn, my sister, is 4 years younger than I am. She moved out west and has a good job as a business executive.
Mom got quiet as I held her. But she made no move to move away from me. "It must be hard for you with me here Sammy. I know that you have a lot of girlfriends and with me here, you can't have them over the way you would like to."
I began to laugh. "Mom! I don't have near as many girlfriends as you think I do." Which was the truth. Not too many girls like the kind of sex I truly enjoy. Mom gave a short laugh. "What?" I asked. This only caused her to laugh a bit more.
"Oh I was thinking about something, but I couldn't say it out loud." My hand slipped to just below her armpit. In a joking voice I said to her, "we have ways to make you talk". My fingers slipped in and she began to squirm.
This was a game that we used to play when I was smaller. Both mom and I are very ticklish. And we would tease each other to get them to talk by tickling. Mom gasped and tried to move away. But my arm just tightened further and held her in place.
"Sammy No! That's not fair!" She was laughing as she struggled to get loose. I held her as my fingers began to tickle. "Sammy please! You're gonna make me have an accident." Mom was squirming around now trying to get away, but I held her firm.
"Tell me and I'll stop. Or you will be making up this bed in a few minutes." I knew that too much laughing would make her have an accident. After a few minutes, she shouted. "Ok! I'll talk! Please don't torture me any more?" These were again words from our younger years, and we both laughed out loud.