Mom Sleeps with Son on Christmas

This is a contest story, please vote.

All characters portrayed are over the age of 18. There are no underage characters in this story.

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Mother and son's innocent sleeping turns to something more than just cuddling and spooning.

"Mom?" Charlie looked at his mother with concern. Lost in thought on Christmas Eve, seemingly she looked so sad when she should have been so happy. "What's wrong?"

Ready to repeat his question when she didn't answer him, he stared at her while wondering what the matter was.

"Wrong? There's nothing wrong," said Susan forcing her son a sad smile.

Looking so miserably, obviously, she was lying. Obviously, there was something wrong.

"Suddenly you look so sad," said Charlie.

In the glow of the fireplace and basking in the soft glistening of the Christmas tree, looking so much like an airbrushed model in the soft lighting of a Hollywood studio, she was so beautiful. She was so sexy. She was so shapely. He wished she wasn't his mother but his lover.

Reminding him of Gillian Darmody played by Gretchen Mol in Boardwalk Empire, he didn't understand why someone who looked like her was alone. He didn't understand why someone who looked like her didn't have a steady boyfriend. If she wasn't his mother, he'd date her. For sure, if she wasn't his mother, he'd do her. Too bad that she was his mother, he could only imagine what it would be like to have sex with someone who looked like her.

"I do?" She sighed before giving him another sad smile. "Sorry, I was just thinking about past Christmases."

Now knowing what she was thinking about, he needed to acknowledge the elephant in the room to eradicate it.

"You were thinking about Dad again, weren't you?"

He wished she'd think of him in the way that she always thinks of his father.

"Yes," she said obviously trying to look happy instead of sad by giving him a little smile.

Her little smile wasn't fooling him one bit. He could see that she was hurting. At a time when she was the most vulnerable, he hoped that she'd consume enough wine for him to take sexual advantage of her, if only an inadvertent up skirt of her panties or a down blouse of her bra, he needed something to masturbate over later.

"C'mon, it's Christmas Eve. Cheer up. You should be happy and not sad," he said. "I won't allow the memory of my father to spoil our fun and ruin another holiday."

With her wearing one of his favorite short skirts, caught by the chair as if the chair was complicit in her flashing him and with her skirt raised higher than the middle of her thigh when she was seated, she was showing him a lot of shapely leg. He loved his mother's legs. Moreover, she wasn't wearing pantyhose, just panties. He could only imagine what it would feel like to run his hands up her short skirt while feeling her lovely legs. He wondered, if they were both drunk enough, if his mother would allow him to feel her legs from her shapely ankles all the way up to her sexy hips.

In the way that she was so comfortable around him and with him always looking to see what he shouldn't see of her, fortunately for him, she routinely albeit inadvertently flashed him up skirts and down blouses. Not the kind of son who was interested in having incestuous sex with his mother, what inspired him to think inappropriate, sexual thoughts about his mother is when his father, a real pig, left her for good for a woman half her age. Leaving him alone with her, he now had more opportunities to ogle his mother in all manners of undress. Exasperating the problem was when his girlfriend broke up with him. Horny now, with no other woman in his life but his MILF of a mother, his sexual thoughts turned more to her, especially whenever he needed fodder for masturbation.

"Sorry, I guess I am a little sad," she admitted taking a breath while staring in the fire and before returning her focus to him. "Even long ago, before we were married, I used to celebrate Christmas Eve with your father. The time when we exchanged gifts, Christmas Eve was our special evening to ourselves before we celebrated Christmas with the rest of our families," she confided in him as if he was her priest or her psychiatrist instead of her son. "I miss him," she said looking up at her son with sad eyes. She wrapped her hands around her wine glass as if it was a warm coffee mug and she was cold. "Don't you miss your father Charlie?"

If this woman was any woman other than his mother, making his move, this was the time that he'd take her in his arms to hold her, hug her, and comfort her before kissing her.

"Miss him? No, I don't miss my father," said Charlie looking down at the carpet while shaking his head. "I'm glad he's gone."

No doubt happy to have his mother all to himself, he was glad that the big rooster was evicted from the henhouse and the proud peacock was still here with her.

"You didn't know him in the way that I did Charlie. To you, he was just your father. To me, he was my friend, my lover, my husband, my companion, and my life," she said looking as if she was about to cry. "He was a wonderful man back then when I first met him, before he started drinking and cheating on me," she said. "Sometimes I wonder if it was all my fault."

"I don't know how you can blame yourself for Dad's drinking and infidelity being that he was an adult and the one in control of his own life," said Charlie acting like the adult by accepting his role as the head of the household.

"Actually it's comforting to hear you say that when my only sounding board left me for another woman," she said, "a younger woman at that. Not very good for my ego and self-confidence, there was no way that I could compete with a woman fifteen years my junior."

"Well I'm here for you now mother," said Charlie. "I'm not going anywhere, that is, unless there's a choir of Playboy Bunnies singing Christmas carols out our front door and asking me to join them," he said with a laugh.

"Yes you are here for me now and I wouldn't hold you back from joining the choir of Playboy Bunnies," she said beaming. "Alas, even though I still have you with me now," she reached out her hand to squeeze his knee, "I won't have you for long when some woman makes you her man," she said pausing before speaking again as if talking to herself. "Christmas isn't the same without your father in my life and without a man in my bed, but you're my man now," she said smiling widely.

He's her man now? He wondered what she meant by that remark. He couldn't help but imagine being in bed with his mother. He couldn't help but imagine himself being in bed naked with his mother. He couldn't help but imagine his mother naked and in bed with him. He couldn't help but imagine having sex with his mother. Not knowing what else to say to comfort her, unable to shake the incestuous feelings he had, if she was any other woman than his mother, wishing he could, he would have taken this as his cue to kiss her. Instead, he looked at his mother while sipping his wine before getting angry by what she said about missing his father.

He remembered all the fighting and the arguing. A continuation of the same argument every damn day, they argued in the morning before his father went to work and again that evening when he came home from work. Weekends were a blessing as his father was never around. Hunting, fishing, bowling, and golfing, so he said, with Charlie away at college, invitations to go places with his father were never extended. For sure, no doubt the reason why he takes her side, spending more alone time with her, he was much closer to his mother than he ever was with his father.

"Honestly mother, I don't know how you can miss the man. He was a bastard for taking up with that young whore from his office and leaving you for her," said Charlie. "He's nothing more than a pig for taking up with a woman nearly my age."

She looked at him acknowledging what he said about his father with some insight.

"I know and you're right. For him to treat me like that, after all these years, was wrong," she said with sadness.

He looked at her wondering why she was here with him instead of attending some Christmas party at a nightclub. Imagining dancing with her and having a good time, he was tempted to ask her out on a night on the town. Only until he found a good paying job, he didn't have any money to go anywhere and to do anything.

"You need to go out more Mother. You need to meet someone. You need to forget about him and move on with your life," he said pausing while looking to see what reaction his words had on her.

"I know you're right Charlie but sometimes, especially when I'm feeling sad and lonely, my head and my heart go in opposite directions. "Too preoccupied thinking about him, where he is and what he's doing, I'm not ready to have a relationship with another man, not just yet," she said slowly shaking her head while looking out the window to watch the snow silently fall. "At least we're going to have a white Christmas," she said changing the subject with a smile.

As if seeing her for the first time and in a new light of sadness and vulnerability, he looked at her as if seeing her more as a potential love match for some man instead of looking at her as his mother. Suddenly feeling jealous, he didn't want another man kissing and pawing his mother.

"Maybe you should try online dating," he said. "I can help you make your profile. I'll even take some sexy pictures of you to post."

As soon as he offered to take some sexy photos of his mother for her online dating profile, dizzy with incestuous desire for his mother, he couldn't help but think of her wearing one of her short, low cut, sexy nightgowns with nothing else underneath. Lighting up her nearly transparent nightgown with his camera flash to make it virtually see-through, he'd love to have a photograph of his nearly naked mother for fodder when he masturbated over the thoughts of having sex with her. Continuing his sexual fantasy, he imagined her standing before his camera wearing only her panty and bra. Wow! How hot would that be to photograph her in her underwear?

As if she was a Playboy model, he imagined her removing her bra to cup her breasts with her hands while he took dozens of photos of her nearly topless body. He wondered if she'd allow him to photograph her in the nude, face down on the couch or the rug, strictly for artistic purposes, of course. Falling for that line, he imagined her posting naked. Who's he kidding? He'd love to see his mother naked. If he saw his mother naked, he didn't know if he could control himself from touching her and feeling her where no son should ever touch and feel his mother.

"Online dating?" She looked at him as if he was nuts, drunk, or both. "I'd never post my profile online and with all creepy and pervy men out there who'd contact me for sex. Then, with all the invasive practices our government does with reading people's private e-mails, I'd never post my photos online either."

He imagined e-mailing his mother as if he was a man interested in dating her. He imagined his mother falling in love with his anonymous self. Writing erotic correspondence back and forth, he wondered if he could persuade her to send him topless and/or naked photos of herself.

"Not every man out there is creepy and/or pervy," he said with a laugh while knowing that he was creepy and pervy when it came to wanting to see his mother naked, especially when it came to wanting to see his mother naked.

"What about you?"

"What about me what?"

"Why don't you post an online profile looking to date someone? You write the profile and I'll take some sexy, beefcake photos of you in your underwear," she said with a sexy look and a sexy laugh.

"Mom? Eww! Gross, that's so gross," he said feigning his disgust.

He'd love to pose for his mother in his underwear. No doubt, as soon as he removed his pants, he'd have an erection. Wondering if she'd ask him to pose naked, tit for cock, he'd pose naked for her if she'd pose naked for him too.

"Oh, don't be so modest. You don't have anything that I haven't seen before," she said.

Not believing that their dialogue was going anywhere but to sexually frustrate him, he changed the subject.

"After I'm gone to live with or marry a woman, you can't stay here alone and wither away Mom. Everyone needs someone in their life. You're still young. You still have lots of life to live," he said. "You need to live your life Mom."

As crazy as the thought was, he wished he could live with his mother forever as man and woman instead of as mother and son. Not ever needing another woman to sexually satisfy him, how hot would that be to have his mother sexually in his life?

"Your father leaving me and rejecting me for someone younger has opened my eyes. Never taking the time to consider my feelings, my life was always about him and if all men are like him in that regard, then I'm not eager to live my life with another man. I'd rather be alone," she said. "It's not so bad. So long as I still have you in my life, I'm happy being alone and not having to cook, clean, and cater to a man's whims and needs."

Damn, playing right into his thoughts, he wondered if she'd live forever with him in the way that he wished he could live forever with her.

"He's gone now Mom. He's not returning. He's never coming back," said Charlie obviously happy by that thought. "Not all men are insensitive and selfish pigs. There are a lot of good men out there who aren't married, lying, cheating bastards," he said.

Only, in the way that he was sexually thinking about his mother, he was as much of a pig as was his father.

"I know," she said with sadness while staring in her wine glass as if reading her fortune in a cup of tea. "Yet, now that I'm older, I'm grateful for the small things in my life. I don't need a man to make me happy, really I don't. Been there and done that, so long as I still have you in my life, even for just short visits, I'm happy alone."

Such a waste of a good woman, he couldn't imagine his mother without a man in her life. Only, if she found someone else, no doubt always wishing it was him intimately with her, he'd be jealous of her lover.

"Everyone should have someone in their life, Mom."

It pained him to imagine his mother kissing, masturbating, sucking, and fucking another man.

"I'm grateful for the fire," she said looking at the fireplace. "I'm grateful for this house," she said looking around the living room. "I'm grateful for you returning home after graduating college to live with me albeit temporarily until you find your own place," she said giving him a warm smile. "I got everything and he got nothing but his freedom and yet, admittedly, now that you mention it, I'm still sad and I don't know why, other than I'm lonely."

Hoping that it was confused in the translation, perhaps her definition of lonely was horny. He wondered if his mother was horny in the way that he was always horny. He wondered if she sexually fantasized about having sex with him in the way that he always fantasied having sex with her. He wondered if his mother masturbated. He wondered if his mother masturbated over the thoughts of having sex with her son in the way that he masturbated over the thoughts of having sex with his mother.

* * * * *

Charlie was forever horny, especially when alone with his mother in the way that he was now. As if she was a celebrity on stage, he watched her slowly cross her legs and, in the way that Sharon Stone did when flashing the police detectives interrogating her in Basic Instinct. Giving her legs his full attention, when she crossed her legs like that she flashed him a patch of her white panty. When she crossed her legs ever so slowly, he wondered if she knew she had flashed him. Wishing she did, a game of exhibitionism and voyeurism that he'd love to play with his mother, he wondered if she flashed him deliberately.

Nah, she's his mother, she'd never flash him her panties on purpose. Yet, wishing his mother would deliberately flash him, how hot would that be for her to play a game of exhibitionism and voyeurism with his MILF of a mother? Nonetheless, coming to his senses while hoping that the wine worked its magic on his mother to lull her lack of awareness that she was flashing him, he felt like such a pervert lusting over his mother.

Nothing new, he's lusted over her for so long that he couldn't remember when he didn't lust over her. She's always been a MILF and when his father decided to leave, good riddance, is when he decided to return home. Now hoping to see more of her than he's ever seen of her before, he no longer had his father in the way to ruin his sexy fun and to discourage or impede how his mother dresses in front of him.

"What can I do to cheer you up, Mom? Just tell me, you name it, and I'll do whatever you ask. This is your special day. You're the one who always so loved Christmas," he said. "My Christmas gift to you is to give you anything that I can to make you happy. I know. What if I drew you a bath and gave you a massage after your bath. Surely, that would help you to sleep."

He imagined her agreeing to have him run her a bubble bath. He imagined pulling up a stool to keep her company while she bathed. He imagined washing her back while watching all of those big bubbles popping and bursting to show him more and more of her big tits. Then, after her bath, he imagined her agreeing to have him give her a full body massage in the way that Mimi Rogers received a full body massage from Bryan Brown in the aptly named movie, Full Body Massage.

With his mother lying face down on her stomach naked, he imagined covering her ass with a small facecloth. Then turning to lay on her back, he imagined covering his mother's breast and pussy with two small towels that were barely large enough to cover anything. Giving his mother a full body massage while touching and feeling her naked body where no son should ever see, touch, and feel his naked mother, that Christmas gift would be more his Christmas gift than her Christmas gift.

She looked at him and smiled while leaning forward in her chair as if it was her turn to make a word when playing Scrabble. A daily event since he moved home, as if they were a retired couple, when they weren't watching movies together, they played Scrabble every day. Taking turns who'd win depending who got the better letters, the J, K, Q, X, Z, S's and blanks, every time she leaned forward to make her words, she'd inadvertently flash him her bra and her cleavage down her low cut blouse.

Having masturbated daily while recalling her flashes, he wondered if she knew she was flashing him. He wondered if she knew he was looking down her low cut top while enjoying the view. He wondered if he more enjoyed playing Scrabble with his mother or if he more enjoyed the down blouse view of her big breasts. With both equally as sexually enticing, he wondered if he more enjoyed seeing her panties in up skirts or her bra and cleavage in down blouses.

"There's nothing you can do for me that you haven't done already Charlie. You're a good son. Thanks for asking," she said not even trying to hide her sadness. "It's just another Christmas to me now. I'll feel better in the morning," she said with a shrug and a look of dejection. "It's just that—" leaning back in her chair, she paused while staring at her glass of wine as if she could see her beloved ex-husband in the reflection of the glass.

A good son? If only she knew the sexual thoughts he's always had of her naked while sucking and fucking him. What kind of son would she call him then if she knew that he wanted to have sex with her? If only she knew how he's lusted over her and masturbated over her while fantasizing having sex with her, he wondered what she'd think and what she'd say about him then. In the way she was so focused on her wine glass instead of on him, while he undressed her with his eyes to imagine her naked, he wondered if she was thinking about her ex-husband instead of thinking about him in the way that he was thinking about her.