This is a reworked version. If you have already read this story there is no need to re-read it. There isn't really much changed, just what the moderators thought was inappropriate.
The plausibility of some of the events in this story are iffy, but before you crucify me, I want to say that I wrote it as pure fantasy. So saying that, please enjoy it for what it is. As always I look forward to your comments and feedback.
Working from home has its advantages. I don't have to commute back and worth from the office, and can clock in when I felt like it. Sounds ideal doesn't it? Well, without trying to sound like I'm gloating, it is.
My name is Tom Cooper, actually Tom Jr, since I was named after my father Tom senior. I work as a program specialist for a major computer firm, which means that I take new programs and try to find any flaws or weakness in them before they go to market. The firm had set me up with a state of the art computer, and as long as I logged in each day for eight hours I was golden. Of course I had to show results in a timely manner, but it wasn't hard to meet their deadlines. Another plus about my job was the pay. It allowed me to afford the rent on the small two-bedroom bungalow one block from the beach I now lived in. For this twenty-two year old life was good.
It was just about 2pm when the ringing of the phone interrupted my daydreaming, something I seemed to do a lot of when trying to sort out a program glitch. Looking at the caller ID, I saw that it was my parent's number.
"Hello."
"Hi, Tom." It was my Dad. "Got a minute to talk?"
"Sure Dad, what's up," I inquired.
"We had a little wind storm a couple days ago that blew down the big oak alongside the house."
"Oh crap. Are you and mom okay?"
"Yeah, we're fine, but that damn tree took out part of our bedroom and kitchen. Its got your Mom all riled up though," he answered.
"What can I do," I asked.
"I was hoping, if it's not too much trouble, if she could come and stay with you for a spell," he hesitantly asked, before adding, "Shouldn't take more than two weeks to repair."
"Love to have her Dad, for as long as she wants to stay," I told him.
We talked a few more minutes; my Dad isn't much of a conversationalist. When I asked if he wanted to come too, he said he was going to oversee the repairs on the house, plus being harvest time there was no way he could get away. Before we hung up he let me know that Mom would drive over sometime tomorrow. I found myself looking forward to seeing her. Being only a three-hour drive from their walnut farm in California's central valley, and knowing how early they got up in the mornings, I figured my mother, Doris, would get here around noon tomorrow.
My Mom is kind of a clean freak so I took the time to tidy up. The house has two bedrooms that are separated by the only bathroom, an airy kitchen-dining room combination and a cozy living room made up the rest of the place. I had converted one of the bedrooms into my office complete with a comfortable sofa and mini fridge. Sometimes I have trouble sleeping so I would come into the office and work late into the night. Instead of going to the master bedroom I often times just crashed on the sofa when I got tired enough. I made sure to put fresh linen on the big bed in the room she would be using and a pillow and blanket in the office.
Trying to get back to work proved difficult. My mind kept slipping back in time to fondly remember that big oak tree. In my early teens it had become an obsession with me to climb to the top of it. I had vowed to conquer it at any cost, and after many failed attempts I finally did. From that time on I spent countless hours up in that tree admiring the great view it gave of our place.
I sat there at my work desk and let those faded memories flood my mind until they were as clear as they were back then. For some reason my mind pictured my mother. She is a petite woman, no more than five-two in her stocking feet, weighing around a hundred and ten pounds. Without realizing I was doing it, my hand found its way into my sweatpants and began to absently stroke my inflating tool. With a mental picture of my mother in my head it wasn't long before my cock reached its full seven inches. Deftly pulling it out of my pants, I increased the speed of my strokes until without warning jets of hot cum blasted out over the floor in front of me. I was unable to stop stroking until there was nothing left to come out. Disgusted with myself, I tucked my cock back in and got some paper towels to clean up the mess.
"What's wrong with you," I admonished myself out loud.
The rest of the day went smoothly. By the time I finished working I was way ahead of schedule, which meant that I could slack off some tomorrow. Friday being the next day was perfect, I could finish up this assignment and have a long weekend with Mom.
The next morning I got up, stumbled half asleep and turned the coffee maker on before heading to the bathroom and taking a long piss. After finishing I grabbed my bathrobe off the hook on the door and waited in the kitchen for the coffee to brew. Once I drank a few cups and was fully awake, I got dressed and started my day.
Barely two hours later I put the final touches to my assignment and logged off. Looking at the clock on my computer screen I saw that it was only ten-twenty, so I figured there was enough time to throw something together for breakfast. Just as I poured the scrambled egg mix into the skillet on the stove I heard a faint knocking on the front door. Forgetting about the eggs I rushed over and swung the door open. Standing on the stoop was the wisp of a woman I lovingly called Mom. Her wide smile and twinkling brown eyes lit up her face. A smattering of freckles across the bridge of her small nose made me think of the phrase, "cute as a button."
At six foot one, I'm long and lanky like my dad, I had to chuckle when she threw her arms around my mid section and squeezed me tight. It was like hugging a child almost. Her head rested just under my chin and I could feel the softness of her tummy pushing against my crotch as she breathed.
"Hi baby," she whispered against my chest.
Before I could say anything both of us smelled the eggs starting to burn on the stove.
"Oh crap, forgot about those," I stated as we separated.
"Don't worry, I'll take care of that. You can take my stuff to my room," already heading to the kitchen as she spoke.
I was amused at how fast she had gotten into Mom mode as I lugged her large suitcase to the bedroom and placed it on the bed. Thinking there might be some things that needed to be hung up I opened the suitcase. My eyes were immediately attracted to a purple and clear colored object nestled between the articles of clothing. Reaching in and lifting it enough to see, I was shocked to discover that it was a power vibrator. It was one of those rabbit ones that had an extension designed to stimulate the clitoris, complete with little ears and a separate battery pack attached by a wire. Judging by the length of it I guessed the size to be around six or seven inches long.
"Whoa, that's one powerful looking tool you got there Mom," I silently thought to myself, before quickly replacing it and closing the lid on the suitcase.
The smell of frying bacon hit my nostrils as soon as I reached the kitchen, causing my stomach to rumble with anticipation. I hadn't realized how hungry I was until now.
Hearing my approach she glanced over her shoulder and said, "I couldn't save the eggs, so I'm making you a proper breakfast. Sit down, it will be ready soon."
I sat at the small dining table; hands propped under my chin, and silently watched her. She was wearing a sleeveless pink floral print dress that ended just above her knees, with a row of buttons running down the full length of the front. Even though the dress fit her frame loosely I could still make out the round globes of her ass when she moved. It was just like being back at the farm during my pervert stage; a stage I apparently haven't fully outgrown.
Right as she was placing the food on two plates I told her that I thought about hanging her clothes up. Her hands stopped moving and I could see her tense up.
Without turning around she asked, "You didn't open my suitcase did you?"
"No," I lied. "I figured you would want to do that."
"Yes. Besides, I can't have my son looking at this old Mother's delicates, now can I."
"You're only forty-six Mom, far from being old," I complimented her.
Relaxed, she picked the plates up and carried them to the table. She had to lean over slightly to hand me mine, the loose neckline on her dress dipped down giving me a look at her freckle covered cleavage. It was just enough to tell she wasn't wearing a bra. I wasn't able to see her nipples but did find out she had on a white lace-topped slip under her dress. My cock began to tingle as we ate.
It was while we put the washed plates away in the cupboard that mom complained how high the shelves were. For me that was no problem, although I had to admit that the top ones were up there a ways. Going to a broom closet built into the wall I pulled out a three-step kitchen stool, opened it up and placed it directly in front of the counter by the cupboard.
"This was here when I moved in. I guess the owners knew my mother was a short shit," I told her with a smug grin on my face.
She slapped me on the ass and told me I was rotten. After laughing hysterically I gave her the guided tour, making sure she knew the tub had a shower also. When I showed her the office she noticed the couch and said she would fit better on it, so I should take the bed. After repeatedly telling her it was fine she gave up. We got to her room and I watched as she took in the sparseness of it. There was a queen bed, small dresser, a nightstand with a lamp on it by the bed and a cluttered closet. I don't think she was too impressed.
"What would you like to do today, Mom?"
"Oh honey, if it's okay with you I would like to just stay in. Maybe watch the idiot box and relax. It's been a hectic few days, I'm worn out," she replied.
"Sounds good to me, just glad you're here," giving her a hug before leaving.
My living room furniture consisted of a large plush fabric couch, with a coffee table in front of it and a fifty-inch flat panel television. I'm a man with simple tastes. About twenty minutes went by before Mom came out and said she was going to take a hot bath. That was fine with me since it gave me time to get some comfortable clothes from my closet. I changed into an old t-shirt and baggy sweats then made myself comfortable on the couch.
