Mom's Not Mom
Summary: On 18
th
birthday, Halloween, son learns he is adopted and....
Note 1: This is a 2024 Halloween Contest Story so please vote.
Note 2: Thanks to
Small_Island
for editing and Shuj for a proofread.
Mom's Not Mom
Having your birthday fall on Halloween offers two possibilities. You whine about how 'your' day is overshadowed by everyone's excitement for something else, or you embrace it and still make it your day. My mom had taught me to go with the latter and so I always got into the spirit, for example, by wearing my costume to school, even as I moved into high school. Even today, when I was turning 18 and finally becoming an adult. Fortunately, enough other people did the same thing that it was more of a cool, than nerdy thing to do, since I already had a bit of a nerd rep.
This year I'd been inspired by my miserable failed attempt to grow a beard for my senior year to go as Shaggy from the old Scooby Doo series. The fact that I'd kept forgetting to visit a barber since school started meant I could also go without a wig. My costume, however, did not meet my usual standards. I'd thought I'd be able find some old bell bottoms in a thrift shop, but it didn't happen, and I had to settle for a last-minute purchase of a one-time-use, cheaply-made-in-China but overpriced get up at the seasonal Halloween store. Still, I got a fair number of compliments, especially when I did my Shaggy voice.
Of course, the real prize for keeping up the 'wear your Halloween costume to school' tradition came in being able to see so many girls in sexy, inappropriate costumes all day. From Catwomen to goth cheerleaders, the day was so excruciating with temptation that when I got home, I immediately jerked off imagining fucking any number of the hot girls I had seen. Of course, I was sure hoping that this year it would stop being only in my imagination.
On the platonic side of things, it was also a great day as my buddies took me out for lunch, and we agreed we would meet at Dave's house to have a marathon Dungeons and Dragons night at eight. I know what you're thinking, how nerdy and pathetic. Yet, it was what we all loved. We played it every Friday and today was Friday.
We were waiting until eight because Mom insisted I be home for a birthday supper. She was already gone to work before I even woke up and so hadn't been able to wish me happy birthday yet. She was a professor at college and had an 8:30 morning class. I, as a high school senior, had the first period off and didn't have class until 9:35 (I know, a dumb time, right?).
I took my time with my afterschool jerking off, finally imagining a threesome with my math teacher Mrs. Walker and cheerleader Cherese for my big finish. As I cleaned myself up, I heard Mom arriving home.
After putting my costume back on, I wondered if Mom was going to keep up her yearly tradition of also dressing up for Halloween and trying to match in some way what I had decided on that year (she was Mrs. Incredible when I was Dash, she was Batgirl when I was Batman, and last year she was the hottest Lois Lane ever to my Superman).
So, I headed downstairs to see if she was in a costume. When I saw Mom dressed as Velma to go with my Shaggy, I wasn't completely surprised, but I was totally shocked at how damned hot she looked... she was in a wig, a tight orange shirt, the short red skirt and orange pantyhose. This the biggest surprise, since Velma usually wore knee high socks.
She smiled and posed, looking so unbelievably hot. "Hey, Shaggy, happy birthday."
"Quite the outfit," I said, my cock instantly hard and likely not hidden too well by the thin fabric of the cheap costume. I feared that if it rained the thing might just melt right off of me.
"Thanks," she said, "I couldn't find orange socks like Velma's anywhere, but I could find orange pantyhose."
"Hmmm," was all I could articulate, but it was no complaint. This was without question the hottest costume she had worn so far. Her big tits were framed perfectly in the orange sweater that was likely a size, maybe even two, too small. Her legs looked amazing in the unorthodox colour and I was able to see so much of them as the skirt did not cover much of her long legs. When she twirled so I could see her back, I could almost see her firm ass cheeks. At thirty-six-years-old, she didn't look like the mother of an eighteen-year-old.
Now, there was no way she would know this, but the nylons were an amazing alteration, even if by coincidence, as I had a major nylon obsession. It made Halloween my Christmas, as many girls who never wear nylons do on this day of slutty forgiveness. At school, I saw at least twenty pairs of nylons or stockings, more than a few pairs of fishnets, and beautifully brainy Mrs. Walker was dressed in a cute Harry Potter outfit with black pantyhose that put a spell on my dick.
"You don't like?" Mom asked, with a slightly playful pout, as if my slack-jawed silence was a sign of disapproval, when she clearly knew better.
"I think you look amazing," I complimented, as I glanced down, like I always did, to see her pretty, painted toes and noticed her newly painted blue toenails... I knew they were freshly painted because they were green yesterday... she often did funky, out there colours. In truth, I loved seeing what colour she chose when she came home from her pedicure which she did every six weeks like clockwork... although today was definitely not six weeks.
For the next hour and a half, Mom worked on supper while I handed out candy to the little trick-or-treaters who came around early. I loved encouraging the future generations of kids with imaginations. When she had a moment, Mom would join me and we got lots of kudos for our costumes from the parents escorting the kids, I don't think the little ones actually got the whole Scooby Doo thing.
Finally, Mom called me for dinner and I blew out the pumpkin candles and turned off the porch light to signal the candy story was closed. I took my seat at the kitchen table and Mom served up my favourite meal... Chicken Parmesan with spaghetti and homemade garlic bread.
It was as casual as dinner with Mom always was and as we ate, she asked about my day and plans for the night. When we had almost finished, she said, "Honey, I have something I need to tell you since you are now eighteen."
"My dad left me a massive inheritance," I joked, my dad never being in my life and it being the one thing Mom refused to talk about. Who was my father? I'd asked my grandma too and also gotten no answer.
She sighed, and I realized this was something serious. "What is it, Mom?"
"Honey, I...."
"Mom, you can tell me anything," I said, a little worried. "I'm an adult now."
"I guess I should just say it and get it over with," she said, looking into my eyes with vulnerable fear.
"What is it?"
"You're adopted," she said.
"What?" I said, having heard the words, yet couldn't fathom how they were true. Out of all the possible words that could have come out of my mother's mouth those two did not remotely come up.
"You're adopted," she repeated. "I'm so sorry I kept this from you for so long."
"You're not my biological mom?" I asked, even though that was obviously the case. As I processed the shocking revelation, I realized I had subconsciously suspected this for a long time since I look nothing like my mother, had even fantasized about it. I'd told myself that I took after my mystery sperm donor, but to look nothing like her...?
"No," she said, looking down at her feet as she stretched them out from under the table and into my peripheral.
So, I too looked down at her feet... a nice distraction from the sudden reality that I was adopted.
"Um, who is my mom?" I asked, the obvious question.
"My best friend from high school," she answered, not hiding it like she did the father.
"Hillary?" I asked, having heard stories about her, seen pictures and knew about her tragic death in a car crash at eighteen years old. The crash had also taken her parents, my grandparents.
"Yes."
"She died a month after you were born," Mom, or who I thought was Mom, explained. "So, with no father stepping up, and no other relatives, me and my mom took you in temporarily. Well, we both fell in love with you and temporarily became forever."
"Oh," I said, as I processed this shocking reality.
"I'm so sorry for keeping this from you for so long," she said, tears beginning to stream down her face. "I just didn't know how to tell you."
I sat silent for a few moments, stunned, but not as upset as one might expect. I guess it was a combination of having already thought through this scenario and finding out that while my birth mother's death had been tragic, I hadn't been abandoned because she didn't want me. There was some deep shit here I'd have to deal with over time, but for now, my life hadn't really changed. I was still in the home where I'd been raised, with the woman who'd raised me and never gave me a moment's doubt of her complete and total love for me. Biological or not, this was my mom.
"It's okay, Mom," I said, getting to my feet. I walked around the table and pulled her up and into a fierce hug.
"Oh, honey," she said, as she wrapped her arms around me and her large breasts pressed against my chest.
"It's, okay, Mom," I repeated, "in my eyes you are still and always will be my mom."
"I'm so happy to hear that," she said, looking me in the eyes.
I reassured her again, slowly and with no doubt. "I love you, Mom," I said. "And you will always be my mother in my eyes."
"I love you, too, Simon," she said, going to kiss me on the cheek, but her lips unexpectedly ended up on mine when I happened to turn at the wrong or perhaps the right time.
My body reacted automatically, pressing my mouth tighter against hers... I might have been a virgin, but I'd certainly kissed some girls. Surprised, she backed away and said, "Oops."
I joked, "Well, since we are not related by blood anymore that isn't so wrong."
"I guess," she laughed a little awkwardly.
"I'll get your cake," Mom said, breaking the awkwardness of the situation.
"Okay," I said, watching her walk away in the sexy Velma costume that was so fucking hot. Sure, most think Daphne is the hot one and her purple pantyhose are indeed hot, but there was something about the nerdy Velma that had always revved my engine... in my mind, behind her nerdy exterior was a kinky girl who would do the things Daphne wouldn't. Plus, in the world I lived in, a girl like Daphne would be out of my league and not give me the time of day, while Velma, smart and cute, just might.
I adjusted my dick that was somehow hard even after being told the shock of a lifetime. Suddenly, I recalled a cartoon I saw on Twitter or somewhere a little while back, as a wicked idea popped into my head. In the cartoon, panel one had a big-breasted mom in tight jeans putting a cake down on a table, saying, "Happy birthday, you're 18." The son responds, "Thanks, Mom, you're the best." In panel two, the mom says, "You're at the age that I should tell you the truth. You're adopted." The son says, "Then that means..." In the third and final panel the mom is on her back, her tits out, her legs spread and her adopted son pounding away in her pussy.
When I'd seen that cartoon, I'd thought it was kinky hot and perhaps it had spoken to my unconscious because I saved it to my phone.
She returned with the cake, one large "18" candle lit, and placed it in the table. "Make a wish."
I looked at her in the tight orange sweater, glanced down at her nylon-clad legs and feet and made a wish. My wish: To lose my virginity to my mom who wasn't my mom... tonight.
I blew out the candle and she declared, unaware of what she was technically saying, "Now your wish comes true."
"I doubt it," I said, as I glanced down again at her feet as she stood beside me. Then she sat back down at the table and the sexy nylon clad toes disappeared underneath.
