My mom stood before me in a tight, short, thigh-high, pink bathrobe. The fleece material clung to her body as if it was two sizes too small, showing me the curves at her waist, the bump of her fat ass and the heft of her big tits. She was thick and beautiful.
It was late, 1 a.m., and only the back hall light was on. The house was quiet. I was an hour late of making curfew.
She crossed her arms, perking up her tits. I knew then that she wasn't wearing a bra. Her body had always seemed to force me to sneak glances at her. Her short skirts, tight pants, slim v-necks, thin slips and snug dresses all gave me glimpses of her in ways a son shouldn't see his mother.
"Why the fuck are you an hour late?" she asked. "We said midnight."
I stared at her. She was fired up, aggressive and pissed. Why was she so adorable when she was pissed?
"Kacy broke up with me." Embarrassingly, the words came out far more broken than I'd intended.
Her shoulders sank. "Oh my God." Her tone had changed, just like that she was in mom-mode. Comfort-mode. "Are you okay? What happened?"
It had been a devastating night and my emotions were shot. A single tear ran down my face. I turned away to hide it but it was too late. She'd noticed. My mom rushed to me and wrapped me up in her arms, her subtle perfume hit me as I gave in and embraced the hug.
"Did she give you a reason?" she whispered.
"She cheated."
I felt her entire upper body drop with an exhale, a, sort of, sigh of disappointment. My mother had done a lot for Kacy over the year we'd been together, so, this betrayal didn't just hit me.
She inhaled and I felt her chest rise against mine. She was almost petite in my grasp; twice my age and half the height, I'd used to joke.
Her right hand caressed through the back of my hair, while the other pushed at my back, keeping us together.
I thought of Kacy, imagined her with that other guy, naked in his arms, her, never again in my own. Did she suck him off? Did he go down on her? Did he bend her over, fuck her ass, cum inside? My racing mind was in a free fall, spiraling into a pit of despair. I was angry, embarrassed and hurt. But this comfort that I held felt good, felt right. I had a beautiful woman embracing me, and her intoxicating scent, subtle cute breaths and tight form got my blood flowing.
I moved my hands to her waist, something she usually never allowed me to do. But this time, she didn't pull away. I squeezed my grip, trying to invoke the usual response, the one that always made her give me that disapproving look. But no, she let me, and now, the fact that I'd crossed this barrier and held her the same way I know she'd seen me hold Kacy ... it made my dick rise, which made my heart jump. I breathed her in, focused on her body pressing against mine and let my dick fill, grow and push against her stomach.
I moved my hands to her upper back as I felt my cock, literally, pulsing, throbbing against her. I knew she knew. How could she not? The fact that she still hadn't pulled away, broke from her visibly turned-on son, made my cock rock hard, harder than morning wood. I pulled my chin from her shoulder and looked into her eyes. God she was cute, so pretty and elegant. I was tired of denying it, of fighting how sexy she was. I kissed her forehead. She let me. I kissed her cheek. She actually let me.
As my cock nearly erupted, I gripped her ass cheeks and pulled her feet from the floor. I put her back against the nearby wall as my dick sunk between her legs; she instinctively wrapped them around me. Then I heard it. Her voice came out soft as she breathed through her words.
"You need to stop."
My heart sank. My head dropped to her shoulder. "Put me down, honey," she said. "This can't happen."
I kissed her neck, kissed her chest at the break in her robe and kissed her chin.
As she started to speak, my lips met hers and we kissed. My hands slid up her robe and it was then I realized she wasn't wearing any underwear. The kiss was long, a bit wet and her lips felt fuller than I ever remembered them seeming. When we pulled away our lips separated loudly.
I was lost in her eyes and that, nearly, pouty look on her face. She didn't make a move, nor did she give me another command. We just stared at each other until I leaned in. She pushed forward and ... we kissed again.
The kisses now were short, quick bursts, somehow aggressive, yet loving. I wondered how long it'd been since she was fucked, since she'd cum.
I rubbed the bulge in my jeans against her bare pussy, but I rubbed too hard and she jumped and pulled her lips from mine. "Careful, baby," she whispered. "I don't have anything on under this."
I kissed her again. "Sorry," I whispered. "Let me make you feel better."
I lowered her body, setting her feet back on the floor. I dropped to my knees, spread her thighs and pushed my face into her soft dark bush; I breathed it in; its scent ... luscious, inviting lavender. I put my mouth into mommy's warm, comforting pussy lips, her beautiful labia, like folds and strips of delicate satin. I sucked her entire vulva as if I wanted to swallow it; i lapped at those lips and power-flicked her clit with my tongue. This was the same pussy I was birthed from; the thought made my dick swell tighter and I gripped at her plump, perky asscheeks, squeezing them and pulling them apart. I used my entire mouth to work at mommy's cunt, listening to her whispered moans and loud breaths. When my tongue slipped inside her and I forced it deep, my upper lip pressing on her clit, she tilted back her head, held her breath, then released it, exhaling through a surprisingly loud shuttering orgasm, her fingers grabbing and pulling at my hair.
Her chest heaved and her legs and hands trembled. She pulled me to my feet, then pressed her face against mine and, inadvertently, intimately breathed into my mouth. "What are we doing?" she asked through deep breaths. "What the fuck am I doing?"
I kissed her lips. I didn't stop kissing her. My hands untied her robe and I opened it. Her body was tight, fit and beautifully pale. I ran my fingers from her hips to her stomach, then cupped her big, soft breasts, breasts I'd secretly dreamt of seeing for years.
Her lips tasted like faded peppermint, working against mine, falling between them, their subtle wetness pulling me in until, finally, our tongues met.