For the next six months, even though I had sex almost every night, I could not stop thinking about my mother. Her last words to me repeated, over and over, in my mind. She had enjoyed what we had done but it could never happen again, ever. She could not forget that she was my mother.
I wanted to respect her wishes but I could not stop thinking about her. We had fucked three times in less than twelve hours, including once just a few feet away from my sleeping father, but I had not seen her naked or touched her bare breasts. What I wanted most was to eat her pussy and feel my cock sliding in and out of her mouth.
She was my first thought in the morning and my last thought at night. I masturbated at least once a day as I thought about what I wanted to do to her, what I wanted her to do to me.
Finally, my third year of college ended. I shipped my personal belongings home and got on an airplane.
My flight got in at twelve forty-five. When I got off the plane, my mother was waiting for me at the gate. She smiled and waved as I walked down the ramp. When we got close, we hugged lightly and kissed each other on the cheek. My mother was a third grade school teacher, very conservative and proper, outwardly at least I was tempted to pull her body against mine and kiss her on the mouth, hard and deep.
She looked even prettier than I remembered. Slim and petite, she had a beautiful face, thick, straight, honey blond hair that hung down below her shoulders, and large, deep, brown eyes. She was wearing a green blouse and a white skirt, sheer, black nylons and white shoes with three inch heels.
It was hard to believe that this gorgeous woman who had gotten married young and had two children by the time she was twenty, still managed to get a degree and become a teacher.
As we walked to the baggage area, my mother and I made small talk about the past six months. I asked about Zoe, my eighteen year old sister. Mom told me Zoe would have come with her to meet me but she had a job interview that morning. I was glad Zoe had not come because I wanted to be alone with my mother.
I knew that most people who saw us thought we were brother and sister or girlfriend/boyfriend, maybe even husband and wife. Brenda looked much too young to be my mother.
I was almost twenty-one, six feet tall and weighed two hundred pounds. Four years of high school sports plus three more years playing at college made my body hard and muscular.
I carried my suitcase as we walked to the garage. The crowd thinned out until, as we approached the car, parked on the top level, mom and I were alone. She beeped the trunk open and we went to the back of the car to put my suitcase in the trunk.
I pulled the lid down and took my mother's hand. "Before we get in the car," I said, "I want to ask you something."
"What is it?" she asked.
"I have to know," I said, nervously, "if what happened the last time I was home could happen again? I know what you said but I can't stop thinking about what we did. I want you much I can't stand it."
"I've been thinking about it, too," she told me, looking directly at my eyes, "I've been thinking about it, a lot. If it happens, your father, nor anyone else, can ever find out."
"Is that all you're worried about?" I asked.
"If anyone does finds out," she said, "my marriage and my career are both over. I'm not sure how much I care about my marriage but I plan on teaching for a long time."
"I'll never tell," I assured her, smiling as I cupped her breasts, "I thought about doing this every night I was at school." I lowered my head and mom stretched upwards to kiss me. I groaned with relief as our lips pressed together and our tongues slid into each other's mouth.
She groaned, too, softly, as we kissed and my hands massaged her breasts through her blouse and bra. I moved one hand behind her and slowly lowered it to her ass. She groaned again, louder, and moved her hips forward, pressing my erection against her as I massaged the firm cheeks of her ass.
"I think—we should—stop," she said, gasping as she pulled away from me, "I'm getting really turned on."
"So am I," I told her, pushing against her so she could feel my erection.
"We'd better go," mom said, "before we lose control."
"I think I already have." I said as I pulled her tighter against me and began kissing her neck.
"Stop," mom said as she leaned her head towards mine, "You know that makes me crazy."
"I want to fuck you," I told her.
Now?" mom asked, "Here? What if someone sees us?"
"We can go between the cars," I said, pulling her hand to follow me, "No one will see. There is no one around. Please, I want you so fucking much."
She followed me, reluctantly, but once we were in the space between our car and the one next to it, my mother quickly unzipped my pants and pulled my hard cock free.
"Pull your pantyhose down," I told her, as I hiked up her skirt.
"I'm not wearing pantyhose," she told me, rubbing my tool with both hands, "or panties, either. I thought you might like the garter belt and stockings when I took my skirt off."
"You were planning to take off your skirt for me?" I asked.
"Well," she said with a crooked smile, putting her arms around my neck, "I thought it might happen,--at home—in bed. Not in the airport parking garage."
"I can't wait," I said. I reached behind her and gripped the bare cheeks of her ass. "How long ago did you change your mind?" I asked, rubbing and squeezing the firm, smooth, pliant flesh.