A/N: This is my first work published here, so please let me know honestly what everyone thinks. There isn't a whole lot of sex, and it's very plot focused, so sorry if you're looking for a quick fix. All characters engaged in sexual activities are 18+.
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Ok, so this all started about a year ago. I'd just turned 18 and was starting my last year of high school. My name's Christian; I'm about 5'6" weigh about 190 and I'm on the fatter side of slim. I have black hair and brown eyes.
My dad died when I was ten, so my mom, Anne, practically raised me. She's an inch or two shorter than me with brown hair and the prettiest blue eyes I've ever seen. Being 38 and still having a body that looks like it's 25 is on the bottom of the list for why the few friends I have say she's a MILF. Her chest is a 36D and she has the tightest heart shaped ass that any pornstar would be jealous of. But aside from all this impossibility of me ever having her, she's also my teacher.
Back when my dad died, mom got really religious; she always was religious, but she dove way in that if I did anything without her permission, she'd haul me off to confession to confess every minuscule thing I did. Thankfully that stopped when, after a year of confession every 2-3 days, I snapped at her for telling me to go after having a peach as a snack one summer day. She still makes me go, but now it's every other month or so.
When I was starting high school, I was surprised she offered me a choice between the local public and catholic schools. I think she was even more shocked when I said I wanted to attend the school she taught at. She was speechless for like a minute, tears welling in her deep blue eyes, until she finally asked why. When I said so she could make sure I stayed out of trouble, the tears burst through her dam and my mumbled response about not taking the bus was lost. What I didn't say was that I'd love to check out the girls in the uniforms that forbade them from wearing pants. Hooray for catholic school girls! Not to mention that some of mom's co-workers were just as hot as she.
So nearly four years later, I'm now an english and drama nerd. (Un)Luckily, my mom only teaches the grade twelve english and the creative writing courses. I didn't get her for my 12 but I did get her for my creative writing. This was the class she always said was her favourite and had all the students she favoured above all others-even me. Thankfully this year's crowd didn't want to take the course, so there was only about 15 of us in the class which included my best friend-and secret crush-Hailey, her boyfriend Cory-who I was only friends with for Hailey-and the class asshole Chuck. Despite the huge difference in numbers, there was actually more girls than guys.
After about a month into the course is where the story really begins (Sorry for all this deposition). My mom had asked the class to write a piece that was based on one of our fantasies-nothing sexual-that involved someone in the class, herself included. Figuring that all my thoughts of beating Cory and Chuck up would not only get me in trouble at school but at home as well, and that everything I fantasied about Hailey was too sexual for the project, I settled for mom. Knowing this could easily turn sexual as well, I settled for getting some payback. I wrote I'd like to be able to tell her what to do and have her get my permission for everything she does for a month for forcing all that confession and extra church on me back after dad died.
A week or so later, I was sitting at my computer playing some solitaire and listening to music, when there was a knock at my door. Mom came in when I told her to and sat on my bed. "Can we talk, Christian?"
"Sure mom. What's up?" I was confused until I saw she was holding my fantasy piece.
"I want to talk about your assignment," she said, holding it up. "Do you really feel this way? Was I so horrible to be around?"
"What?! No, mom you weren't horrible; I just added embellishment so that my payback was justified." That was a lie, but if she knew the truth she'd just might let my fantasy come true. Thankfully, high school had taught me to be a better liar.
"I know I went a little crazy with the confessions, but was it really so over the top that I made you go for '...walking around shirtless in the middle of summer?"' She was really worried about this, like worried I was permanently scarred or something.
I got up from my desk chair and walked over to her on my bed. "Mom, I'm not scarred or anything, if that's what you're worried about. Remember that dad had just died-you were coping in your own way: by blaming me for the rain when you felt guilty for dad dying. Yes, some things were a bit questionable, like the infamous peach; but others were deserved. And you didn't catch as much as you thought as you had. That's why I stayed quiet for so long: because I understood what you were really feeling because I felt it too. I don't blame you mother; I forgave you almost immediately. But my paper was just a fantasy, never to be fulfilled." As I explained, her expression went from anxious to guilt to amusement and finally relief. I gave an internal sigh when I saw relief.
"Well, that's a relief; I am sorry about being so ridiculous, though." Glancing at my paper, she gave a curious scowl and asked the question I feared would come up. "So, mister Master," she teased with a coy smile, "what exactly would you have had me do?"
Realizing this was dangerous and uncharted territory, I decided to play the nonchalance card. "Oh, not much; the usual I guess: my homework and chores, let me have extra dessert. I might make you do something you find useless in doing so close together and make you do it continuously for days on end. I hadn't really given it much thought." I shrugged my shoulders to add, hopefully, the illusion of my not caring.
"Oh, was that it?" she asked with a smile. "How would I ever survive the tortures of letting my son boss me around into doing his homework and chores for a month? Not to mention, changing my sheets every other day? You're right in saying that this was never meant to be realized, I might just die from all the extra work," she said with heavy sarcasm. That was another great thing about mom: her ability to switch from seriousness to jokes at the drop of a hat.
After we finished laughing, mom gave me a hug and kissed my cheek. "Thank you, for being so understanding and letting everything go. I mean it when I say I'm truly sorry for acting that badly."
"Don't worry about it mom, all is well and forgiven," I reiterated, to which she just gave me another hug. I was starting to feel the effects of her body though; a tent was slowly pitching itself in my shorts. God, I hoped she wouldn't notice.
Thankfully, she got up and turned to leave, but stopped at the door. "You said you hadn't given this much thought, so why did you write about it?" Really, another impossible question; what is this, interrogate your son day?
"Cuz I didn't think you wanted to read about how I want to beat up Chuck." She didn't know about how I felt about Hailey...I think.
"You'd be surprised at how many people wrote about that sort of thing. I know everyone doesn't like Chuck but why, he seems so quiet."
"That's cuz you don't hear him in the halls; he makes advances at every girl and fondles their tits from behind. We all hate him because he's a scum bag."
