IMPORTANT!
This story contains kinky fetishes with pee, and incest between older mother and son.
DO NOT READ further if those things offend you, or you find the categories disliking!
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My mom and I have had our ups and downs in our relationship, you might say. Sometimes it has been very turbulent and stormy, and sometimes it has been better than best, and we were closer than ever before.
I've been alone for quite some time now, and I really miss female company. It has made me sometimes look at my mother as more than just a mother, which of course I did back in college too. Almost every visit back home ended up in extra sticky wash in the hamper, when I smelled like a madman in her panties...and squirt my cum in bras, panties and dresses.
And now, here we were...30 years later. And I'd just shot my load in her dress she usually wears when she cleans...and just like before, I had been completely euphoric about the smell in her panties when I sprayed the dress.
Mom wore different dresses, of course. This was an "old rag", she did not want to throw away, but now used when cleaning the apartment. And she didn't wash it very often. Which suited me very well, because I really liked to see my old sinful spots in it. Dried sperm from my last visits to her.
Sometimes I seized the opportunity when she was in the laundry room, or in the store or just resting. When she was resting was the best. Because that was the highest risk of being caught, the tension increased a lot.
I remembered we talked about older women in college, and thought several of us had real MILF's.
And speaking of moms we'd love to fuck...was I now standing here, again. With her panties over my face, which smelled of both old cunt and pee... and with her cleaning dress tightly squeezed around the cock and ejaculated in it like old times. Just as mom came up from the laundry room and opened the front door.
"Stephen, can you help me carry, please."
"Sure, just a second...I'm just going to. I'm in the bathroom."
Put the dress on the hanger, pretend-flush in the toilet, and quickly out and help.
Mom was getting older but she was alert, mobile, and really fresh for her age. Really fresh.
Some things she couldn't do on her own, but still relatively much. I think she liked having me here. And I liked being here too. Was a very good fit for both of us.
When the laundry was tucked away, the coffee was made and mom came out of the bathroom...she sat down. Not across where she usually sits, but the chair next. Pretty close, and she was holding something in her hand, too.
I noticed she didn't use the toilet when she was inside...just fixed up a little, before she came out and sat down next to me. With her cleaning dress in her hand.
"It's been a long time for you now, Stephen, hasn't it? Long time since you were with a woman?"
"Mmm," I replied nervously, while my mother took my hand in hers.
"Do you feel such a longing for a woman that you've again done like when you were a young college-boy, and used my underwear to help yourself in your room and on the toilet? Or is there anything else that's made me have stains from you little here and there...now again, after so long?"
What, she knew? I thought I hid the evidence so well...then.
"Well?", she said, and woke me up from my daydream.
I'm older now, and I think you should stand up for what you do and feel. So I said a little quietly, "Hhrrm, I guess it's because I'm missing a woman........and....eh... I think you always were a woman who suited me in every way. Both back then and today."
"I see. In retrospect, and with my panties and cleaning dress in my hand, maybe I was wrong not to let you live out your dirty college-desires with me then... or at least some of them."
She was quiet. Sat and thought, probably for a minute. Then she said, "I'm old, but I also long for things...that hasn't happened for a very long time. And how do you feel about getting a chance with your old mom today? Maybe you don't want this so long after...even if the things here say otherwise. But clothes are one thing and reality another..."
...I just sat quietly, with a little hope in my eyes...and with nodding head.
Mom got up. Took off her blouse and pants. And now I noticed she wasn't wearing a bra. The panties showed a pair of light yellow spots on the front. And then, she put on the cleaning dress. So now she was standing there, without a bra and with the dress on that I had just come in, and it was getting really tight in my pants, really tight.
"Take off your shirt, my little boy. We can care for that. And then I want to feel your skin against mine, too. But first, I want you to do to me, like you usually do with my panties...if you smell and lick them because you like the way I smell and taste down there. So, now is your chance that you've been dreaming about for so long. Smell me...as much as you want. Do you want to? Come on, I'm going to go make the bed. Maybe you'll see something you like..."
When I hung up my shirt and came into the bedroom, my mother stood and "made the bed" at the back against the wall, so she stretched out. And the dress went up a long way.
