Morgan - a Love Story

I grew up like most boys in America. I wasn't particularly into studying and preferred to concentrate on sports.

I was the only child and my relationship with my parents was not unusual either. I guess...

My father worked until late afternoon in a printing shop, that was publishing material on line too. Most of the time he was tired when he came home.

My discussions with him were brief. He just wanted to know that I was doing OK in school and not getting into trouble.

Mom was warmer and had more time for me, even though she worked a lot with dad.

Sometimes she helped with homework, other times she drove me to courses and important games.

I knew that whenever I had 'issues', she was the one I was supposed to 'bother'...

Everything was fine until one day that my world turned upside down.

I was 18 at the time and senior in high school.

I came home and found my mother in tears.

"Mom, what happened?"

"...I didn't know how to tell you before... Dad and I get a divorce!..."

"Mom, are you sure? Before every divorce there are arguments and shouting. I never heard any of it!..."

"Morgan, did you hear me talk to dad much lately?"

"No, but I assumed that he was too tired. And then I went out to friends..."

"Darling, we tried to spare you... So all our fighting we did in your absence."

"Mom, I still do not get it. WHY you divorce each other?..."

"Look, you'll find out sooner or later anyway... The main cause is that your father wants to marry his mistress. She is a 20 years old blond with big boobs..."

"Mom, I don't understand. You are barely 40 and very attractive! Why does a 50 years old guy want a relationship with a bimbo who could be his daughter?"

"Morgan dear, you are young and naive... Read the gossip about the love life of Leonardo Di Caprio..."

"Mom, I'll talk to dad when he comes home, but remember that I'll always be here for you! And I am sure that soon you'll find another man, that will be much better for you than the jer... than dad..."

Mom smiled through her tears and hugged me, "You are and always be my first love..."

I embraced her and kissed her forehead.

'What an idiot dad is!... He has a treasure at home and he is about to ruin everything for a Lolita?!...'

I felt extremely sorry for mom...

She was the glue in our family. She organized every social gathering, cooked, cleaned, laundry... She took care of the bills and taxes. Dad was mostly a guest at home, while she was the ultimate homemaker...

If everything I mentioned before was not enough, there was something else too...

It's true that mom just celebrated her 40th birthday, but she was a knockout!...

On days that she didn't work, mom was exercising at LA fitness. In addition, she was doing yoga 3 times a week.

She was in great shape physically. On the rare occasions that we went on trips together, she was always ahead of dad and eventually had to wait for him to catch up.

And if that wasn't enough, twice lately I got glimpses of her body as she was getting out of the shower.

Both times she was covered with a large soft towel and nothing else.

What can I say... As a young guy with his hormones raging, my dick jumped up!

Initially I was ashamed of myself. God! this is my own mother...

But within few weeks my shame and embarrassment turned into obsession.

In her absence I checked her drawers, examining her panties, bras and few lingberries she had.

They were all supposedly clean, but they had distinct intoxicating smell... Was it HER faint smell that remained in spite of being laundered? Did the odor come from the drawer itself or something she put in it?...

My next step like many good old pervert boys, was to explore the laundry box for her used underwear, later using them as a subject for my fantasies and... masturbation.

To cut the story short, I was obsessed with mom's body. Her pretty face was another advantage, but my hormones concentrated on her under-the-neck areas...

However, I knew that all these imaginary visions were only fantasies of a growing up sick mind. She'd never go for it!

Dad didn't come home that evening or the next one...

"Mom, is dad never going to show up here?..."

"I do not know Morgan. He may be very busy with his new blondie and his lawyer... or work. We are finalizing the agreement about our properties. By the way, I insisted to have the printing business, because I thought that one day you might want to own it or at least work there."

"I don't know mom..."

The next evening dad showed up at home. His suitcases were neatly placed by the door. Mom was teary eyed again, even though she tried to hide the signs with heavy makeup.

Dad asked me one question, "Son, do you want to live with me or your mother?"

I stared at him with obvious contempt, "Dad, what do YOU think?... You never cared much about me anyway... And now I also understand that you care less about mom as well..."

He gazed at me, "Son, you are upset. I am not going to explain or discuss my choices I made with you now, but eventually, if you are still interested, I will. Remember one thing - At your age everything is either white or black. When you grow up, you'll learn that life has many unexpected turns with unpredictable results!... Take care now." And he left. I didn't hug or kiss him.

I didn't have his new address (although I had his cellphone number).

I hugged mom, "It's only you and me now!"

"Yes Morgan. During the weekend I want to show you all our private documents and then take you to our printing shop. If something happens to me, you'll need to know where everything is!"

Saturday morning mom and I drove to the printing facility.

Funny, I never visited the place where my parents worked for so many years...

The size of the place was like an average 1 story building. It had a larger area for the printing machines, a smaller area with 5 computers and a small office.

"Mom, I've seen at home some brochures, pamphlets, greeting cards and even short stories that you've printed. But what do use these computers for?"

"Son, we have few on-line ventures too. One day, when we have more time, I'll give you all the details..."

Both what she said and the vague way she said it sounded unusual to me. If there was one area that I excelled in at school, computer sciences was it.

Instead of proudly showing me the files on the computer, she avoided it all together! That was weird...

"Mom, you have 2 computers at home, so one of them is a work computer, right?"

"Yes. Every now and then I have to work from home."

"Thanks for showing me the place. Let's go home. Actually, it's a weekend... Do you want to go to a restaurant and a movie?"

"Morgan, I'd like to... But it reminds me of something I wanted to ask you for quite sometime. You often go visit friends, play sports, or on your computer, but I haven't seen or heard anything about a girl... You are tall, handsome and attractive. Is there anything I should know?..."

I smirked, "Mom, if you are trying to find out if I am gay, the answer is NO. I have no problem with gays, lesbians or others in the LGBTQ movement, but in my case the explanation is simple. I have Oedipus complex..."

Mom chuckled, "Morgan, I also love you, but I was serious..."

I faked a whine, "If my mother doesn't believe me, who will?!..."

She laughed loudly, "You are so naughty! I know that you are trying to avoid my question, but it's all right. I am not going to infringe on your private matters."

"Mom, will you do me a favor, please?"

"Of course. What is it?"

"If we are going to a restaurant and a movie, it's like a date. Can you dress up for a date then?..."

"Geez! Morgan, last time I was on a date with a man was before you were born... But OK. We'll be home soon. If you take care of the restaurant reservation and buy on line movie tickets, I'll dress up for you. Deal?!..."

"Mom, I love you and it's a deal! What are you in the mood to eat and later watch on the big screen?"

"My favorites are seafood and a romantic comedy, but you can choose whatever you like."

Later that evening I put on nice clean jeans and an ironed shirt, that mom bought me for my 18th birthday.

I waited for her in the living room.

Ten minutes before our reservation time at the restaurant mom came out of her bedroom. She looked gorgeous!

As I recalled, her hair was always arranged in a bun. That evening she let it free. It framed nicely her pretty face.

There were little touches of makeup and mascara. And a glossy red lipstick.

"Morgan, is it true that all men love to see their women have red lipstick on?"

"I don't know about ALL men, but I think that you look amazing with it!..."

She had a gray, midi style dress that hugged her body nicely.

A 3" high heels were perfect. With them she was shorter than me by about 3 - 4 inches...

She saw me ogle her body... I meant her dress... She chortled, "Does it mean that my date approves?..."

"OH, YES!!! If you weren't my mother... Never mind..."

She kissed my cheek, "You are a true gentleman. Let's eat."

I was lucky to find available table at a good local seafood restaurant. The food was very tasty. The white wine too.

Then we went to see Silver Lining Playbook with Bradley Cooper and Jennifer Lawrence.

I preferred action movies, but mom loved it. She gave me her hand saying it was a good choice.

We returned home happy.

She kissed my cheek again, "Thank you for being so nice to an old lady..."

"Mom, if I were 5 years older and not your son..."

She smiled, "You are such a flatterer... I am going to sleep now. Tomorrow morning I drive early to my friend Cheryl. I promised to help her pack some stuff for her next trip. I'll be back around noon or slightly later."

The next morning I woke up at 9. Mom left earlier.

I grabbed cereals and went to mom's room.

I recognized her private laptop.

I approached the other computer and tried to guess the password.

I was right the third time. It was my birthdate...

It's ridiculous how many mothers use their children's birthdate as passwords...

There were about 20 different files with names like 'Home-cats', 'Security-z' and 'Party's galore'.

I continued exploring. The last file was called 'Read-erotica'. I opened it.

It was a mini version of Literotica...

There were about 5000 viewers and 3 editors. The chief editor was 'honey-bee-3'.

While I wasn't sure, my guess was that it was my mother. My hunch was based on the fact that she loved to read about bees and her lucky numbers were 3 and 8...

Mom used one of these numbers in all her passwords, e-mails and accounts.

I looked at the writers section. There were 75 authors. The first story was published 6 years ago.

Then I surveyed the authors names. Neither one rang a bell except for one: 'bee-hive-8'...

So my mother was not just editing, but also writing stories...

I put on my phone the link to this site as well as her member name and left the room.

I went directly to my laptop and searched for mom's author's file. There were 7 stories she published.

Her first story was very emotional, describing the 6 months of her relationship with dad before the wedding. It focused on the love they felt for each other and their escapades, trying to avoid being seen by the parents and neighbors.

The second one focused on the time she was pregnant with me. She and dad were really naughty...

One of the other stories was about a short lesbian relationship she had with a close friend. It ended up when the other woman moved to another state. They continued the contact by phone and e-mails, but without intimate encounters.

The last story was published just 10 days ago.

Mom wrote about her husband ignoring her and getting his sexual satisfaction with a young woman, whose only assets were her huge tits. She was lying in bed crying, while her husband was screwing this blond whore. But even when she realized that he was cheating on her, she couldn't think of retribution or having an affair with somebody else... The only love she had left in her life was her 18 years old son...

When I finished reading the last story, I had to hold tight. I was so close to sobbing...

I had to think of a plan that would help her... and me.

Then I had my 'eureka' moment.

I sat down and wrote a story about an 18 years old who was in love with his mother, but didn't know what to do about it. I edited it the best I could and called it 'My only love. Ch 1'.

However, writing assays was never my forte...

I sent it to 'Read-erotica' using the pseudonym 'desperatelyinlove'.

The response came back 2 days later. It was rejected... The official reasons were poor writing and lots of emotions without enough 'action'...

It became clear that I had to improve my writing!

Unfortunately, 'Read-erotica' was not very useful helping me find a good writing guide.

I went on literotica.com and over there I found the section 'guide for amateur writers'.

A week later the edited version of my story was sent to 'desperatelyinlove'.

And it was accepted this time!

Three days later I checked the site again.

My story got good reviews. But more importantly, there were some suggestions how to entice (seduce?) my mother.

I began writing the 2nd chapter, but stopped after 2 sentences. I had a better idea...

I went back to mom's last story and decided to comment on it through my new e-mail.

'Dear writer, your story sounded very genuine. In my opinion, you should talk about your feelings with your son. He is considered an adult now! He deserves to know. You may be surprised, but many young guys his age are less superficial than you think and help a lot!... An anonymous admirer.'

Twenty four hours later there was a response in my new e-mail, 'Dear 'desperatelyinlove', I appreciate your sincere suggestion, but I know my son better. He is a good boy, but he has his own life. I know that if I tell him about my emotional struggles, it will put him in an awkward situation of not knowing what to do about it, which will lead to a lot of tension. But thank you. bee-hive-8.'

Two hours have passed and my answer was ready, "Lady, I feel your pain. I come from a different perspective. If you read my story 'My only love. Ch 1', you'll see that boys my age may have strong feelings toward their mother... Now I am not saying that you should be looking for THAT kind of love, but not letting him know your suffering is not a good idea either. Sincerely, 'desperatelyinlove'.

Mom's response was in my e-mail a day later.

'Now I get where you are coming from. At the tender age of 18 boys are frequently obsessed with their mothers, but it's not serious. My son also steals a peek at my body when he thinks that I don't notice and occasionally I find that some of my panties are not where I left them. Again, I don't think that these actions hint at something deeper than simple going through puberty and curiosity... bee-hive-8.'

'You may be right. Why don't you test it in a simple way. Tell him that your legs hurt. If he offers you a Tylenol, you'd be right that he is just trying to be helpful, but if he offers to massage you legs, accept it and watch what happens...'

'OK, I'll try it.'

I couldn't contain my excitement... Before mom showed up, as soon as I arrived home I took a shower and put on my shorts with a tee shirt. Then I boiled water, knowing that mom loved to drink tea upon arriving.

I just connected the kettle and mom entered. "Hi Morgan. How was your day?"

"It was just fine. Look, I boil water, do you want some tea?"

"It sounds like a wonderful idea. The work was tougher than usual today. I am thirsty and my legs hurt from too much walking around."

"Mom, I am not busy now. Let me make you black tea with honey the way you like it. Afterwards, you can rest on your bed. I'll bring the oily stuff and massage your legs..."

"Morgan, I thought that this evening you planned to go play with your friends..."

"First of all, my mother comes first. And then, Jerry needed to complete a homework assignment, that he neglected to do yesterday..."

Mom glanced fondly at me, "I am not sure if the last part is true, but I love you too..."

We drank our tea with Ritz crackers.

We were silent, every now and then gazing at each other.

Then I went to the bathroom, fetched the Avocado oil I saw there before and brought it to the her bedroom.

I put a large towel on mom's bed and waited for her.

"Morgan, I need to shower first. I hate to see you faint because of my stinky feet..."

I laughed, "Mom, I doubt that your feet smell that badly, but if it makes you feel better, do it. I'll wait for you right here."

I didn't know much about massage... And now I realized that I did a mistake by not reading on-line in time...

Fifteen minutes later she was back, having on a blouse and short pants.

She lied on her back with her legs on the towel toward me.

Her bed had a slightly higher than usual frame. With the heavy mattress I needed to stand up for the massage.

I did one foot first. It wasn't done exactly perfect, but I tried to think how I wanted to be massaged if the roles were reversed... Mom didn't complain. I moved to the other calf and did it too.

Subsequently I moved forward and spread some oil on her left calf.

I massaged it applying some force, kneading the muscle, gradually moving upward.

She closed her eyes and moaned, "Morgan, it feels so good..."

My eyes wandered up along her body. Her ample tits were hidden by only a thin blouse and a soft bra... The nipples were protruding nicely! Were they hard?

These thoughts made my prick stir. It began engorging...

Lucky for me, mom's eyes were shut, as she enjoyed the massage.

Then I moved to the other leg.

I grabbed the oil but it started slipping from my fingers, so I bent forward.

As I was doing it, my groin touched mom's foot! My hard cock hit her heel!...

She gasped, opened her eyes for a second or so to look at my groin and then closed her eyes again.

I was terrified... She kept quiet.

I massaged the other leg, feeling that my hands were trembling.

When I was done with the other calf, I stopped.

I wasn't sure whether I should proceed to her thighs or not.

Mom looked at me. She smiled but stayed silent.

"Mom, are your thighs hurting too?"

She smirked, "What you really want to know is if you are allowed to play with my thighs... Yes, Morgan, go ahead..."

I couldn't think of a smartass rebuttal, so I poured more oil on my hands and massaged her lower right thigh.

Her smoothly shaved muscular legs felt great.

I alternated between kneading and rubbing.

The general direction was from distal to proximal and from the lateral aspect medially.

As my hand came close to the inner part of her upper thigh, mom spread her legs somewhat and moaned,

I reached within 1" of her groin and stopped there.

Then I moved to the other side and repeated the same sequence as before.

Again, when I came close to her mound, her legs moved further apart.

And then it was over.

"Mom, I hope I didn't do it too hard... Are you OK?"

"Morgan, you did beautifully. I feel so much better already. Actually, you did so well, that I was thinking ahead. You know that twice a week I Go both for yoga and my routine tiresome exercises. On these evenings I always end up with leg pains. Your exceptional massage led me to think that, if you agree of course, you'll massage my legs twice a week and in return you can ask me for whatever YOU want..."

I looked at her. She had a strange smile...

"Mom, I'll be happy to massage your legs 2 evenings a week. But I am not sure about the 'whatever YOU want'... What did you mean by that? What are the limits?..."

"Morgan dear, I cannot tell you what are the limits if I have no clue in what direction your mind is going. But I'll tell you what, on Thursday I'll have another super busy day. Let's agree on a massage starting after dinner. During the massage you can tell me what is your wish. I hope we can both agree on an acceptable reward."