Mommy's Rules
Chapter 01
There is no doubt that my mother spoiled me rotten. As a young lad my father was unbearably tough on me emotionally and physically. His expectations of me were impossibly high, and no matter that I was an exceptionally good student, a gifted athlete, an altar boy at church, exemplary in every way it was never enough for him, and he never let me forget it. Punishment for any infraction of his insanely strict rules or any disappointment in a test or performance on the field often led to beatings and belt-whippings. He constantly assaulted me verbally with disparaging comments as well.
My mother provided a sanctuary from my father. She was kind and loving with soft hands and a nurturing spirit, offering words of comfort and encouragement. A sort of dichotomy developed between my father's harsh discipline and my mother's caring and indulgence in me. This dichotomy grew over time as I pushed harder to achieve what my father expected and at the same time reveled in being a Mommy's boy, getting whatever I wanted from her. Mother and I were co-conspirators in our secret relationship of her indulging my every wish. As I went through my teen years, I learned that all I had to do was complain about my father, then ask my mother for something and she would always provide it. I became conditioned to get whatever I wanted from my mother. I called her mom most of the time, but when I wanted something from her, I always called her Mommy. And it always worked.
The day after I graduated from high school my mother announced that she was divorcing my father. They went through a bitter contest and, being a Mommy's boy, I stuck by my mother's side as she navigated it and won. I signed up for Community College and lived with her in the family home after my dad moved out. We both basically cut him out of our lives.
The dichotomy also grew inside me. The side of me that my father developed was a strong student, a good athlete, and well known, if not popular, at school. But inside I was a mass of insecurity, lacking in maturity, angry when I didn't get my way, yet feeling like I deserved nothing because I was worth nothing. My father had trained me well.
As I went through school, rather than make lots of close friends and date like the other kids, I liked to stay home with my mother, where I felt safe, loved, and understood. By the time I was in high school, my parents' relationship was so bad my father would be gone for days at a time, doing God only knows what. Those were special times for Mom and me. We would shop and she would buy me all the clothes or tech gear I wanted, or go to a movie, or just hang out at the house together. If I had a game, we'd go out for dinner afterwards and celebrate my victory, or comfort me in my loss.
I remember an afternoon when I was about 13 or 14 years old. My mother came into my room and sat on the side of my bed and asked me to turn off the music that I was listening to while doing my homework. I noticed she was wringing her hands, something she did when she was upset with my dad. She started with, "Most boys have this conversation with their father." She held my rapt attention as she went over the birds and the bees, starting with how varied species procreate. Then she came to mammals and made a quick leap to humans. She explained that for a human couple to make a baby the Daddy put his penis into the Mommy's vagina and after a certain amount of rubbing, sperm came out of the penis. I knew a lot of this already, but there were gaps in my knowledge. I knew the basics, but I didn't really know how it worked. Being close to my mother and getting anything I wanted from her I had no pause about asking specific questions. And she, wanting to indulge me, had no qualms about answering questions in detail.
I asked her how did the penis get into the vagina? The details are sketchy now in my mind, but she gave me a full account of a couple kissing, then touching each other in intimate places, the man's penis getting hard and the woman's vagina getting wet and lubricated so the penis would slide in easily. She described the in and out movements, then said the man would get a very good feeling and ejaculate the sperm deep into the woman where the sperm would swim up and race each other to the woman's egg in order to fertilize it. Then from the fertilized egg, the baby would begin to form. I remember this because I had never heard the word ejaculate before, and I had to look it up afterwards.
This answered a big question I had been having. I had been masturbating for a few years to orgasm, but only recently something had begun shooting out of my penis at the end when I got that good feeling. Suddenly I could put it all together, but something had formed in my mind. The fear of failure, hammered into me by my father, made it very risky to ever try that with an outsider. As my mother had been describing what happened between the man and woman, the only breasts and vagina I had pictured in my mind were hers.
Thus began a new era for me. Prior to that when I masturbated, I just did it because it felt good. After that conversation, I began to fantasize about touching my mother's breasts and wet, lubricated vagina. I often thought about what it might feel like to slide my own hard penis in there.
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Five years later, after my parents' divorce, I was still fantasizing about my mother on a constant basis. Fearing that I was being damaged by the divorce, my mother ramped up her indulgence of me. Rather than waiting for me to ask for something she would come home with a new computer for me, an X-Box, an iPhone. She even surprised me with a car. She also began showering me with affection, which of course I loved.
After Dad moved out, Mom became freer with walking around the house in skimpy underwear or nightwear. I don't know the reason, but I guess she just felt that she was free now that Dad was gone. It drove me crazy. I was an 18-year-old male virgin who had never had a girlfriend, and my mother was driving me crazy. I began to find reasons to walk in on her when she had just got out of the shower or was dressing so I could catch a brief glimpse of her naked. If she scolded me, I would just say, "I'm sorry, Mommy" and she would instantly forgive me. One time I must have looked particularly repentant, and she came over and hugged me wearing only a bra and panties. I had to go to my room to masturbate.
My mother was still good looking. She was only 39 years old, having had me when she was 21. She was strawberry blonde, very slim and athletic, with large breasts and a tight ass. I worried that as good as she looked, she might start dating and I feared that I would become jealous. My obsession with her grew.
I came home from a late class at the Community College one day at about 5 o'clock. I had been particularly horny all day and was looking forward to getting to my room so I could relieve my achingly hard dick. Mom was just getting home as well, and we met in front of the house. She had the mail in her hand and opened an envelope as we stepped into the house. As we stepped in, she said, "Yes!" I asked her why she had said it, and she told me that the divorce was final, and showed me a very large check that my father had written.
"Now we are truly on our own!" she said. "Free of him forever." With that she pulled me towards her and gave me a deep full hug, pressing her entire body against mine. She kissed my cheek, and still in an embrace pulled her head away. I turned my head to look at her.
"We don't ever have to deal with that ugly, ugly man anymore. We are free of him now," she said. I looked at her and she was so beamingly happy, and she felt so good to me in our embrace, that I closed the gap between our lips and kissed her. She kissed me back thinking it was just a short, chaste kiss between a mother and son, but I didn't pull away. I could feel her surprise for just a brief moment when I kept my lips pressed against hers and tightened my embrace. Then, for another brief moment, I felt her fall into the kiss and return it. Then abruptly, she pulled away and moved away from me a couple of feet. I could see she was flustered a bit.
She put the check back into the envelope and announced that we were going out for dinner that night to celebrate. I went to my room and got myself off, thinking about that one moment when I felt her enjoying our kiss with her body pressed against mine. It was just a brief moment, but it was there.
She let me choose the restaurant, of course, and we had a great meal and a great conversation. There was no hint of any awkwardness over our brief kiss earlier in the evening. Her marriage fully dissolved, she opened up to me about what life had been like with my father. He tried to control her completely and was just as harsh with his criticism of her. She was afraid of him physically, although he never actually beat her. Life with him had been miserable and lonely but she had stayed with him for me, even though she could see the damage he was doing. She told me it broke her heart to see how he treated me because she loved me more than anything or anyone in the world.
I had never really considered what living with him might have been like for her, and I told her I was sorry she had to go through all that and that I loved her too, more than anything in the world. She smiled at me, then leaned over and gave me a short, chaste kiss on my lips. "I love you, honey," she said when she pulled away. "Love you too, Mommy," I replied.
We got home and went to our respective bedrooms to prepare ourselves for bed. Before we parted ways in the hallway, she came close to me and gave me another chaste kiss on the lips and told me goodnight and thanks for a great evening.
I brushed my teeth, put on my pajamas, and got into bed. I lay there, thinking about the three kisses with my mom that day. Usually, we might kiss once a week, but three times today! As I went over them in great detail, especially the extended one, I knew I wanted to kiss her again. I got out of bed, walked down the hallway to her bedroom, opened the door, and walked in on her. She was standing completely naked, looking at herself in the mirror. She jumped when I entered and quickly grabbed a robe, slipping into it in one fluid motion.
"Jason!" she cried out as she covered herself. "You have to knock before coming in!"
"Sorry, Mommy," I replied as she tied the belt on her robe.
"What is it, honey?" she asked, sitting down on the edge of her bed.
"Well, I've never kissed a girl before, Mommy. And when I kissed you today, I really liked it. I want to do it again but longer to see what it feels like."
She paused for a moment, then said "I really think you need to find a girl your own age to do that with, honey. I'm not sure that would be appropriate."
