Mom at the Prom

WARNING: If you are not 18 or older, please leave this page immediately.

Incest—a word that has extreme negative connotations. The image that most often comes about when the word is mentioned is that of a father forcing himself on his daughter. Any forcible sex act, especially done by a parent to a child, should result in the parent being punished in legal and non-legal ways.

This is a fantasy of consensual incest between adults. It is intended for adults who are interested in reading about consensual sex between relatives. If this offends you, do not continue any further.

===

Edward Morelli heard the phone ringing. It was annoying the 18 year old, both because it was the fourth ring and also because it was interrupting his drinking. He took another swig from his 5 liter bottle of Jack Daniels and leaned across the living room sofa to the irritating telephone and answered it without looking at the caller ID.

"Hell-loooo," he slurred.

"Ed?"

"Yeahhhh. Who the fuck is this?"

"Your mother."

The blatant reply, mixed with a tinge of parental authority, offset his alcohol-induced stupor. He sat up right and started clearing his throat.

"Mom! Hi, are you?"

The parental tone now contained concern.

"Ed, what's wrong?"

The throat clearing went on while he blinked his eyes rapidly and desperately tried to shake the cobwebs from his head.

"Nnn, nnnnothing, Mom."

The high school senior altered his voice to sound chipper.

"How are YOU?"

Jacquelyn Morelli wasn't buying it.

"I'm fine. Ed, are you drinking?"

There was a pause.

"No, no. No! Mom! I'm not dddrrrrinking!" he declared and self-defended. "Why, why woulddddd you say that?!"

"Because I am your mother and I know you. You're slurring your words and you sound shit-faced. Where's my dearly divorced husband?"

"Dad?"

She responded with annoyance.

"No, the mailman."

Ed laughed like a drunk.

"He's out delivering packages," he snorted.

"Yeah, like the time I walked into his office and he was delivering his 'package' to his tramp secretary. EDWARD DAVID WHERE IS YOUR FATHER?!"

Her extremely pissed-off tone and use of his middle name jolted his daze.

"Dad is in Tampa on business."

"Another month away?"

"Two months."

"Tampa...Florida. America's wang. It's perfect for him," she sneered. "He thought with his dick—except with me, and

is

a dick."

The son busted out laughing at the incredible but justified insults.

Hearing him chortle loosened Jacquelyn's demeanor a bit. She smiled.

"Did Husband of the Century give you the money for your prom like he told me he would?"

Edward's chuckling stopped when he heard the words "your prom." He paused, feeling sullen.

"Yeah," he replied.

Give your Dad a gold star for at least keeping his word

to

you

, she silent mused to herself. She was about to inquiry about the tux and other items surrounding the annual dance when she heard, after his one-word answer, a pause and the faint sound of sniffling.

The 40 year-old knew immediately her son was on the verge of crying. Her natural motherly instinct kicked in.

"Eddy, baby, what's wrong?" she semi-begged, with a softer, worried timbre.

The lad broke down sobbing. It was several moments before he could speak.

"Barbara dumped me, mom. She dumped me!" he hollered into the receiver. Ed began to weep again, then finished his statement.

"A week right before the prom!"

A figurative dagger pierced her heart. She felt instant sadness for her son. At the same time she wanted to find Barbara and tear her 'a new one.'

"Oh, honey, I'm so sorry!"

"Right before the prom!" he repeated. "One FUCKING week before the prom!"

Normally Jacquelyn would admonish him for "language" but this wasn't the time and she wasn't in corrective mode.

"What happened? What did she say?" the mother gently pried.

Ed managed to speak after gathering himself together.

"Barbara called me a couple hours ago saying she wasn't going to the prom with me. Just like that, clear out of the blue!"

He paused to wipe his nose with the bottom of his T-shirt which was on the sofa beside him.

His break got Jacquelyn on pins and needles.

"What did she give as a reason for this sudden change?"

"Max Wellington, the captain of the football team. He had just broken up with his girl and Barbara said she always had the hots for him. Now that he was available, especially for the prom, she told me she couldn't let the opportunity slip away. She said she was sorry."

Edward pulled back on the oncoming tears so that he could sarcastically roar.

"SHE SAID SHE WAS SORRY!"

Jackie heard him take another swig of his 'liquid strength.'

"You believe that shit, Ma?! She said SHE WAS SORRY!"

Listening to him blubber made

her

want to cry. Jackie felt his pain, both as his mother and as knowing all too well the gut-wrenching, life-changing sting from your significant other's sudden, betraying reversal.

"I'm sorry, Ed." she softly consoled. "Honey, I am so, so sorry."

The parent wanted to say more, do something. At the moment, she was stunned at hearing about this sudden heartache. All she was able to do was listen to her only child wail like a wounded animal.

After a few somber moments, Jacquelyn got an idea, and made a decision.

"What are you drinking?"

Ed gave up the weak pretense.

"JD," he replied.

"Save me some. I'm coming over."

The high school senior was immediately a combination surprised, relieved, and reluctant.

"Mom, I appreciate that but I am ok. Really."

"You REALLY sound drunk. You're also REALLY down."

"Mom, I'm not going to do anything stupid."

Jackie knew this, but wasn't going to take no for an answer.

"I know, sweetie. I just want to be with you, to take care of you. You know I

know

about betrayal."

Her tone had been caring and very motherly, until she brought up to him what his father did to her. Then

she

started to cry.

Now it was his turn to feel bad for her. Ed considered his dad to be the equivalent of pond scum. Hearing her bawling changed his mind about her coming to the apartment.

"Mom, mom. Stop crying. Ok. Come on over."

Though Jackie had genuinely sobbed at the remembrance of her husband's serial infidelity, she added more to the waterworks so Edward couldn't insist on her not coming over.

"Ok," she commented, repressing a triumphant grin.

The lad sat back and sighed.

"Mom, thank you."

"You're welcome."

"I love you."

"I love you, too," she retorted.

There was a pause, and then he spoke with a snicker.

"I'm sorry."

Lost at the comment, Jackie inquired.

"What do you mean?"

"I finished all the Jack Daniels."

"Really?"

She was slightly disappointed. Jackie truly did enjoy the famous whiskey.

Ed belched then hiccupped.

"Yep."

"Fucking alchie," she joshed.

He laughed.

"Thanks, Mom. I love you."

"You're welcome, and I love you, Ed."

After the call disconnected, Jacquelyn sprung off her recliner and into action, steaming into her bedroom to pack.

Nobody does that to my son and gets away it!

Whimsically she then pondered.

I wonder what the prison term for aggravated assault is. I am aggravated—at Barbara, and I want to assault her.

Forty minutes later, two packed suitcases were in her Nissan Maxima as she headed down the interstate for the ninety minute drive to her ex-husband's apartment.

*

It was 12:43 AM when the incessant door buzzer finally woke Ed. After hanging up from his mother, he simply passed out on his sofa.

"Shit!" he cursed to himself.

As he grudgingly picked himself off the couch, the sound of his doorbell seemed to grow in loudness and persistence.

"Alright! Alright! I'm coming!"

The drunken young man almost stumbled as he took his first step in walking.

"Fuck!"

He was relived that his announcement that he was approaching the door ended the ringing. Padding his way to the front door, he squinted. Ed reached for the doorknob then realized it was generally necessary to undo the two locks first. He opened the door.

Standing outside was Jacquelyn, a suitcase on the ground next to her and a wheeled, carry-on bag in her opposite hand. She smiled heartily.

"Edwaaaaaard!"

The mother's extended pronouncement of his name was due to another type of extension, one very unexpected and very pronounced.

Her son had answered the door, sleepy drunk, clad only in a pair of jockey underwear, and sporting a sizeable erection.

In a nanosecond Jacquelyn's face went from happiness to shock as her eyes dropped like a bad stock from his eyes to his boner. Then her pupils widened as they looked at, then looked over, almost hypnotically, the penis she was never meant to see in an aroused state.

The phallus stretched forth like an obscene tree limb through the navy, Fruit-of-the-Loom material. The divorcee had no choice but to realize her son's hard cock was impressively long. The protruding fabric also relayed to her that this hidden, forbidden, slab of young male beef was topped with a fat cockhead.

Edward, still within the remaining vapors of inebriation, just stood there. He knew the woman before him was his mom. It didn't faze him, though, that he greeted his mother, clad in skimpy shorts, with a hard-on, or that she was peering at it in a most unmotherly fashion.

Jackie's initial—and eagerly continuous—view of Ed's tented loins was based on a provocative elixir. It was a blend of (1) not having seen a live cock, preferably as the current specimen was—hard and ready—in two years since her last date and almost five years since her divorce, and (2) the unrestrained yet realized knowledge of salaciously enjoying a taboo scenario.

They say a penis has a mind of its own. Ed's was a shining example of this. It had uncurled, unfurled to its full length just a short time ago thanks to a very naughty dream its owner was having involving the Spice Girls.

Now, with his mother—his attractive, buxom, and divorced mother—gazing at it with unorthodox interest, Ed's dick pulsated with shameless, daring excitement. The degree of carnal heat was raised when Jackie, willingly nonstop in her visual attraction to her son's manhood, instinctively licked her lips. It appeared to her that the luscious member throbbed even more under her lusty gaze.

Then a stain hastily appeared on the expansive front of the underwear cloth.

She licked her lips again.

Drunkenly oblivious to the very inappropriate way he answered the door, Ed greeted her.

"Hi, Mom."

The second word halted her lusty reverie and hit her like a Mack track. She felt instant guilt about her actions.

"Hi, Eddie!" she stammered back.

She declined her initial intention to make a joke about his erection. Instead she just ignored it and walked by him in with her luggage. Jackie turned around to him. He was still standing there with a dumb and wasted grin, erection ever present and now in a bawdy silhouette.

"Son, I'm inside your place now. It's almost 1 in the morning now. You might want to close the door and lock it."

Ed followed the instructions. He shut the door and rebolted the locks. He turned to her, resuming the display of his imbecilic smirk.

"Mom!" he welcomed, moving toward her with open arms, a genuine want to just greet her, and his solidified edifice bouncing to and fro.

Jackie's matching grin was half-hearted. She

did

want to embrace her son, but dreaded his manly projection touching her. Yet she didn't want to embarrass him. She realized, as his arms went around her neck in an almost bear-like embrace, that there was no way to avoid the genital contact.

"Son!" she weakly, submissively welcomed.

When it happened, when his barely-covered, upturned dick landed against her jean-encased vagina, Jackie's eyes flew open. As the tightness of his hug pushed his shaft further against her cunt, she seemed to short-circuit.

The dark-haired beauty grunted in feral appreciation. The hefty erection, albeit her son's, felt good against her sexually-barren crotch. She hoped he didn't hear the throaty exhale.

Worse yet, she almost immediately silently begged that he didn't feel her lewd push-back against his thick, meaty schlong.

"Mom! It's so good to see you!" he extolled, giving her a peck on the cheek.

Apparently he didn't hear or pay attention to her grunt or her counter-thrust. Ed's mind was too fogged in.

His stiffness, though, wasn't.

Neither was Jacquelyn's libido which, forbiddingly, was awakened at the initial penile contact. She instinctively rolled her hips again, pushing back against Ed's hard-on. In turn, his stiff prick countered with an intentional shove.

"Ugghhh!" she gasped again.

Alarm bells were blaring loudly in the divorcee's mind. Besides the actual, physical collision of his penis and her sex, there was the warm feeling that emanated from within her muff, and the beginnings of her nipples become hard.

She pushed him away, feeling just a bit disappointed as his solid manhood was separated from her pubic region.

He felt slighted.

"Mom, wha, wha, what's wrong?"

She knew his hurtful sounding inquiry had nothing to do with his erection and her eager gash. He was too toasted to realize that or anything else sexual. She doubted Ed even realized he had a hard-on.

Jacquelyn played it off.

"Nothing, baby. Nothing at all else, except you were hugging me so tightly I felt crushed."

As if scalded, the youngster jumped back even further. He really felt bad that his overzealous greeting physically hurt his mom.

"Shit! I'm sorry, Mom. I'm so sorry!" he apologized profusely, his eyes nervously darting around in evident self-condemnation.

Now Jackie felt bad. She moved toward him. He stepped back. Gently, she moved toward him again. A palm of hers went to the side of his worried face.

"Eddie, Eddie. It's ok. I'm ok. I know you didn't mean anything."

He still seemed worried.

The astute woman, seeing this and realizing the root source of this whole evening, lightened the mood.

"You were just squeezing me so hard because you were happy to see me. That's all. No harm, no foul."

She comfortingly smiled at him.

He finally looked relieved.

"I AM glad you're here."

"Me too."

They viewed each other.

Parental anguish returned to Jacquelyn. She gazed at him with the empathy, sympathy, and concern generations of mothers have experienced when their child is hurt.

"How long will you stay?" he mumbled softly.

"I'm on vacation for two weeks. I packed for one, because I was rushing. I can stay for the two."

"I'd like that."

"Anything for you, my Steady Eddie," she cooed his Little League nickname.

A feeble smile broke out on his face.

With a gentle thumb swipe, Mom removed a tear streaming down his cheek.

She broke the ensuing quiet with her comical sarcasm.

"So, you get tanked and sleep on my bed?" she jested while pointing to his living room sofa.

Ed recoiled.

"No, no, no! Mom, you're not sleeping on the couch. You sleep in my room, in my bed."

The phrase

Mom... you sleep in my room, in my bed

struck her. Despite noticing that his erection had dwindled, the prior incident made the phrase illicitly sizzle in her overwrought brain.

"No, honey. It's ok. The couch is fine with me."

He refused, raising his voice just a bit.

"Mom, you're sleeping in my bed!"

For Jacquelyn, the unintentional taboo double-entendre increased the mental sizzle from just a moment ago. She acquiesced.

"Alright. I'll sleep in your bed."

"Good," he said, pointing toward the small hallway.

"My bedroom is across from the john."

She grinned warmly.

"Thanks, son."

Then, Ed's appearance dramatically changed. He didn't look so good.

"I hope you don't have to use the bathroom right now," he said, placing a hand on his stomach.

"No, baby. Why?"

"Cause I'm going to hurl."

His other hand covered his mouth and he took off like a gun shot down the hallway, hoping the toilet seat was up.

*

After he finished vomiting, Ed initially refused his mother's help to clean himself up.

"I can do it!" he insisted when she leant him a supporting arm after he rinsed out his mouth.

After that he tried to walk on his own back to the living room. It didn't happen, as he began to wobble and stumble. Jackie offered him the same arm again; this time Edward accepted the assistance. Once she got him close to the sofa he fell onto it. He slumped onto his back, and eventually got into a comfortable position.

A small gasp escaped from the MILF.

Ed's arms were up, elbows bent, on either side of his head. Each hand was resting on that side of his face. His legs spread open, the right one bent, with the bare foot being placed on the rug. It caused his crotch to become prominent, the underwear material seductively hugging and encasing his cock and balls, displaying to Jackie its breathtaking, wondrous girth.

For the sex-starved mom, the site of the baseball-like lump—and who it belonged to—made her palpate.

He looked like a Playgirl centerfold, except for the jockey shorts.

Grudgingly, Jacquelyn tore her eyes from Ed's 'package' to visually intake and devour the rest of the nearly nude specimen of prone, virile, and fine-looking masculinity.

Edward's face was a combination of youth and almost male-model looks. His shoulders and pecs were broad and well-defined. His abdomen was displaying signs of becoming a 6-pack. His legs, especially the brawny thighs, showed that while not a committed bodybuilder, Young Morelli enjoyed a good, frequent workout.

Descriptions adoring his male sexuality came to Jacquelyn's mind.

Mr. May.

Hermes... Mercury.

Perseus. (Ohhh, he could have access to my Kraken anytime!)

Jackie's breathing became worse. Also her nipples were swelling, bursting with excitement, yearning for attention.

Her eyes fluttered. Her hands rubbed the side of her alluring, curvaceous body. She was tempted to caresses her big, heavy breasts, lovingly tweak the hardening nubs, and then tend to the needy, inflated labia along with the hot cavern they guarded.

Somehow she was able to resist masturbating.

"Ugghhh!" she quietly moaned, wondering how the hell this incredible stud, with an apparent pussy-pleasing dick, could be discarded so callously.

Barbara needs psychiatric care. Really.

Her eyes now were laser-focused on Ed's flaccid penis.

It looks like a sleeping, sexy slug, hiding in some cheap pair of drawers, accompanied by a gargantuan pair of testicles which showcased beef and contained thick, sticky man-cream.

A dripping smudge of Jackie's pearly ambrosia smeared her inner thigh.

Her descriptions morphed into possessives.

My Mr. May.

My Hermes...My Mercury.

My Perseus.

My sleeping, sexy slug.

"Oh! Oh! Ohhhhh!," she asthmatically puffered.

Within her own erotically self-induced, Kay Parker-like haze, a small, dissenting voice soon clamored.

That's your son!

It was immediately countered by her simmering lust.

That's right, that's my son...my almost naked, studly son!

Jackie lasciviously moistened her lips; her eyes glued to Ed's beefcake form.

The dissenter was soon aided by immense waves of guilt. It halted her wanton thoughts. Then the whole illicit scene was completely offset by the center of attraction himself.

Edward began snoring.

Jacquelyn chuckled. She felt both defeated and relieved. Her taboo titillation was repulsed by an influx of massive regret, and the sound of Edward loudly sleeping off his drunkenness.