My mother had me when she was 16 years old. At the time it was a local teen, someone she didn't know well, and she wasn't careful. Her parents, my grandparents, didn't want her to have an abortion so I was the result. But with me being there, she didn't pity or herself or even drop out. My mom was a superhero, or at least she's always been that for me, taking care of me and pursing her business career at the same time.
She had dated off and on over the years, but they weren't good guys (or at least that's how I thought). She was a tough cookie, but she sometimes picked guys who were abusive, and that made me all the more protective of her. I was brought up to believe (through TV shows and movies mostly) that a woman needs a man of the house. By the time I turned 18 that's how I felt especially.
Also by this time, I had kind of a crush on her. A big crush.
Amy (my mom) was 5 foot 6, 105 pounds, green eyes, curly brown hair, just naturally curvy and bouncy hair that I love, smooth freckly skin, and tight legs and a firm ass from working out. She has 36 DD breasts (I know, I've seen her bras), and a size 4 waist. When she would work out at home in the study, I would peek a glance at her any chance I could; she would wear the tightest spandex possible, a sports bra, and I knew she wouldn't wear underwear, so I could get glimpses of her camel toe. She clearly had a tight, hairy vagina.
All of these images and thoughts would flood into my head when I'd jerk off, and it disturbed me. At first. I shouldn't think about mom that way, it's gross, she's my mom. But the more I thought about it, the less inhibitions I had; I would fantasize about going into the workout room, kissing her deeply with my tongue and fingering her through her workout clothes. Whenever I gave myself over to these thoughts, my orgasms would be incredible, almost violently intense, with me shooting 10, 12, 15 ropes of sperm. But these were just thoughts, I told myself. No harm, no foul (even though, I sometimes suspected, when I had my eyes closed and was really going to town on myself, my mom had the door creaked open and was watching me too, but that was in my head too, right).
This all changed one incredibly stormy night over the summer, when I had graduated high school and was looking forward to college. Mom and I were watching TV together, and it was a scorcher of a day, like over 100 degrees, and as it slowly became night it didn't come down much more. I was in boxers and a t shirt, and mom just had on a nightie. I don't know if she knew how see-through it was but it didn't leave too much to the imagination. But I kept attention on the TV and not her and everything was fine. And then the wind picked up, out of nowhere a gust of 80 miles per hour, and it knocked the power out.
"Oh, shit," i said.
"Hey!" My mom said
"Sorry, meant *shoot*"
"No, this isn't good. Want to check the power?"
"Ok"' I said. I went downstairs to the circuit breaker, but no dice. The power wasn't coming on no matter how many times I tried to fix it.
"It's out. Probably all over the block."
"Damn," my mom said. She looked upset.
"What's the matter?"
"I just... this wind is really scaring me. I dont want to be alone tonight. Would you stay with me?"
"Well, i'm not about to go outside anywhere, if that's what you mean."
"No, no I mean," she had a slight hesitation, then said, "stay with me in bed, keep me company, like I did for you when you were younger."
I remember well her coming into bed and staying with me when I got worried as a kid during such storms, and would stay until I fell asleep. I figured I could do the same for her.
"Ok."
"Oh, thank you, sweetie," my mom said. She came over and gave me a hug. I could feel so much of her body as she pressed herself against me. I felt the slightest stirring in my cock, but she let go and it passed.
An hour or so later, I used my phone flashlight to lead myself to my moms room. It was dark of course so I couldn't see much, but when I opened the room I was met with a sight that I'll never forget: my mom was taking off her nightie, completely unaware I had opened the door. I couldn't see much but make out the contours of her breasts, which were completely perfectly shaped, and the outline of her very thick, untrimmed bush. As she turned around and leapt with a shock:
"Oh!"
I turned around. "Oh, i'm so, so sorry, mom."
"No, its ok,'' she said as she got under the sheet. "In the summer, I sleep in the nude. It's way too hot out anyway."
"Yeah, I understand."
"I'm sorry if this is at all strange for you-"
"No, no, it's okay, really." I got under the sheet. I still had on my shirt and boxers.
"Well, goodnight." She leaned over and gave me a peck on the cheek.
"Love you," i said, perfunctorily.
"Love you, too." She turned over on her side and I turned on my other side to not face her. I kept on trying to tell myself there was nothing really wrong with this. No problem whatsoever. Just... Sleeping in the same bed with my smoking hot mom, her naked, me in just a shirt and boxers barely covering my erection (and by then I was hard). But I tried to think about anything else - baseball, taxes, bullfrogs - and it finally subsided.
We both must have fallen asleep for an hour or so when we both woke up with a start: lightning crashed outside so loudly we both kind of leapt up out of bed. My mom tried to catch her breath.
"You alright?" I whispered
The thunder cracked again and she suddenly scurried over to me.
"Hold me, please," mom said, and she got close up against me.
"It's okay, everything's okay, shhh," i said, and I meant it. I felt like her protector, like nothing bad could happen to her while she was in my arms. I loved her more in that moment that I ever had, and it wasn't simply a son's love. I felt an incredible, deep and profound connection to her as a man does to a woman when he is passionately and madly in love.
