Mother's Day

Hindsight is always twenty-twenty, I know. But in this case, I could have easily avoided this whole mess, if I had just been a little more careful – not to mention a tad less arrogant. Then again, if that were the case, I would not be telling you guys – and girls – this story.

So, for anyone interested in making a disaster, here's my recipe. First, get yourself a girlfriend with a birthday in early or half May, as close to Mother's Day as possible. In my case, Laura's birthday was the 14th, which last year happened to be the second Sunday of May; bingo!

Next, buy all your presents online and way in advance, and then make sure you put them in cardboard boxes of equal size and wrap all of them using the same wrapping paper – it helps if you only have just the one kind, as I do. Bonus points for not labelling each present, because in your infinite arrogance you, falsely, believe you'll be able to tell two almost identical presents apart, just because you tied the – same colored – ribbon in a different way. Now finally, make sure that the birthday present for your girlfriend is naughty and kinky, and extremely inappropriate.

Et voilà, all that's left to do now is to give your mom her – wrong – present first.

So, on Mother's day, my girlfriend and I went over to my mom's house. The plan was to stay there for a few hours, then head off to a fancy restaurant where we would have a nice, romantic dinner, and then head back to my place, and try out the present I had bought her. It all seemed so simple.

Mom's present should have been a formality. She was used to getting scarfs. I had been buying them for every birthday, Christmas and Mother's Day for as long as I can remember. After making us all a cup of coffee and opening up a box of chocolate chip cookies, mom sat down on the couch across from Laura and me. Completely unaware of the mistake I was about to make, I got up and handed mom her present while giving her a peck on the cheek, then sat back down.

"Oh my," she whispered as she looked down at the present she'd just opened – the wrapping paper and cardboard box unluckily obscuring what was inside, from both me and Laura. Mom, clearly puzzled and shocked, glanced up at me. Right then Laura's phone rang, prompting her to take it out of her purse and get up to answer it, walking away from the living room.

"Well, go and try it on, mom," I said, not understanding what the problem was.

"I... uh... I wouldn't know... I guess... I could... try it on!" she said, clearly distraught.

"Off course, that's why I bought it for you," I replied.

Mom got up, slowly and hesitantly, and paused several times on her way to the door, looking back at me each time. I had trouble identifying the look on her face; she was clearly nervous for some reason, but there was also another emotion in play here. One I couldn't quite put my finger on.

Anyway, when mom eventually did walk out, she closed the door behind her, which I thought was kind of strange, considering the hallway mirror was only a few steps away from the living room door. While Laura was still in the kitchen, yapping away on her phone, I waited, figuring mom would be back any moment.

But after several minutes, I began to realize that something was wrong.

"What the hell is taking so long?" I thought to myself, as I got up and walked into the hallway. To my surprise, she was nowhere to be seen. I closed the living door behind me and went to look for her. After knocking on the door of the downstairs toilet – and then peeking inside just to be safe – I headed upstairs. I called out to her several times as I passed by each room. After checking my old room, the bathroom and the guest room, there was only one room left: mom's bedroom.

Still not having the faintest idea what was going on, I knocked and walked in, not realizing my life was about to change forever. The sight before me nearly blew my mind... There was mom, sitting on her knees, on the floor, dressed in the naughty schoolgirl's outfit I had bought my girlfriend for her birthday. Because mom was more endowed on top than Laura, her tits nearly burst out of the top, which made the whole ensemble even lewder to look at.

As my eyes scanned the floor, I suddenly noticed white panties and a white bra amongst the clothes she'd taken off. Because the uniform I had bought consisted of just a white top and a red-blue checkered skirt, I realized mom was no longer wearing any underwear. Besides, the way her fat tits were stretching that white top left nothing to the imagination.

As my cock grew to a full erection in just a few moments, I couldn't believe how stupid and arrogant I had been in regard to her present. Still, what surprised me even more was the fact that mom was actually wearing this, and apparently didn't feel any shame or embarrassment! Needless to say, I was shocked and speechless, as my brain was trying to make sense of what my eyes were seeing.

Mom, on the other hand, seemed to be struggling with the second part of the present, a red ball gag, which she'd just taken out of its packaging. She was holding the leather straps, while analyzing the picture on the instruction leaflet – which showed a young, gagged slut with a very submissive look on her pretty face.

"I am not sure how to... oh, wait, I think I got it," she said casually, as she quickly put the ball in her mouth and tied the leather straps around the back of her head. Then, she glanced up at me, apparently looking for my approval. By now, my cock was so fucking hard it was actually starting to hurt.

Instead of coming up with an excuse, or running out of the room, my brain just short-circuited and went with the easy – obvious – option. I undid my pants, pushed my boxers down and wrapped my hand around my dick. I didn't think, I just acted on instinct. Mom looked at me, as I wanked my ridiculously fat prick and just remained quiet. I came in under forty seconds, arched my back and frantically sprayed my thick, creamy cum – I had been saving up for my girlfriend's birthday – on the red bedroom carpet, in between us. I heard her gasp from behind her gag ball.

As soon as I had cum, I couldn't bear to be there any longer. I just pulled up my boxers and pants as I stumbled out of the room. In the hallway, I leaned against the wall and took a moment to gather my thoughts. What the fuck did I just do? What did mom do? And what exactly happened? Realizing mom probably wasn't going to stay in her room for much longer, I went down and told Laura – who was still on the phone – that mom had developed a sudden migraine and had gone to lie down.

Laura had no reason to distrust me and followed me to the car – her attention still more on her phone than on me, or mom. Needless to say, the rest of the evening was a bust. First of all, I kept replaying the incestuous incident in my head, all through dinner, which neither helped my concentration, nor my conversation skills. Secondly, when Laura found out I had no present to give her – I couldn't very well give her the scarf – she was pretty disappointed, not to mention pissed off.

She stormed out of the restaurant and took a cab home. Maybe that was a good thing, because with all the images of mom, dressed in that slutty outfit – not to mention the gag ball – running around in my mind, I was in no condition to be romantic with Laura. I was horny, fucking horny! I didn't want to make love. I just wanted to jack off and cum.

And so, I started tugging my dick as soon as I got in the car. It wasn't easy driving with just the one hand, but I managed. Luckily, by the time I got home, Laura was already upstairs sulking, which meant I could get behind the computer and jack off properly. Afterwards, figuring I'd better leave Laura alone for the time being, I decided to sleep on the couch in the living room. I spent the rest of the evening wondering how I could ever face mom again. I didn't want things to get awkward between us – which was a strange notion, considering what I had done to her, earlier that night.

The following day, Laura snuck out of the house bright and early and maintained radio silence on all frequencies. Knowing from experience that she was going to need a few days to cool off, I decided to try and fix my relationship with mom first. My plan was simple; apologize extensively, and, if need be, beg for forgiveness.

I walked in through the backdoor and found her watching tv in the living room.

"Oh hi honey," she said, as welcoming and as cheerful as ever, as she noticed me coming in.

"Uh... hi," I replied, paralyzed by shame and remorse over what I had done, but also confused by her unexpected warm greeting.

"Look mom, I uh..."

"Another present?" she asked as she saw me holding her original present, the scarf – the one I should have handed her the day before. I had brought it with me as an aid to explain myself, but I was nowhere near as articulate as I had hoped.

"Yes, uh..." I stammered as I found myself handing her the present, "I uh..."

She opened the present, took out the scarf and asked, "Shall I try it on?"

"Sure," I replied, relieved that she didn't hold yesterday's events against me, and obviously didn't even feel awkward around me. While she was in the hallway, I paced back and forth nervously around the coffee table, trying to wrap my head around the whole thing.

Then mom came back in, shocking me to my very core, again. She had tied the scarf around her head, wearing it as a mouth gag. She had also taken off her skirt and blouse, standing there in just her ruby red bra and black panties.

Why? Why did she do that? Why couldn't she just... I don't know, act normal? And why was I gawking at her beautiful legs, her voluptuous hips, and her big tits? Why was there a submissive look in her eyes – one which perfectly matched the scarf in her mouth? I wanted to ask her tons of questions, but, as she had gagged herself, there was no point.

The next thing I knew, I was holding my big, fat, throbbing cock, again and was jacking off right in front of her, again. Neither of us spoke. She didn't even move for the next four minutes, just standing there, watching me pump my hard dick. I honestly couldn't remember the last time I had spurted standing up, but this time I did... and it was wonderful. I moaned and convulsed as I proudly shot my sperm up into the air. It rained down over the living room rug and the glass coffee table. Mom simply looked on, clearly not caring that I was making a mess.

As soon as I was empty and my orgasm had subsided, I zipped up and instinctively ran out the back door, feeling even more ashamed than when I came in. And to think that I had come here to fix things. What the hell was I thinking? What was I going to do now? Then it hit me... since I had just dumped a load, I figured this was the safest time to try and talk to her again. Determined to get to the bottom of whatever the fuck was going here, I turned back and marched back into the living room.

Mom had taken the scarf out of her mouth and was buttoning up her blouse when she noticed me. She hadn't gotten around to putting her skirt back on yet.

"Look, mom, I owe you an apology," I blurted out, "That first present wasn't..."

Not paying attention to what I was saying, she stopped buttoning up her blouse and, instead, started pulling her panties down. Unsurprisingly, I froze mid-sentence and couldn't utter another word. Once again, this was just about the last thing I had expected her to do.

She took advantage of my momentary lapse in focus – as I was gawking at her bare cunt – to sit down on the one-sitter and open her legs as wide as she could. This time, there was no misunderstanding, no chance she had misinterpreted my actions or words. As I stood there, still shocked, she quickly unbuttoned her blouse all the way down again and pushed her bra up, exposing her fat tits as well. I now had a prime view of mom's most intimate parts. As she used her right hand to lewdly grope and squeeze her left tit, she used the middle and index finger of her left hand to tap her pussy while looking me straight in the eye.

Flabbergasted by her forwardness, but too intrigued and perverted to pass up this opportunity, I walked up to her, kneeled down and bent my head down towards her twat, as I kept looking her in the eye. I slowly extended my tongue and began licking mom's salty twat. She kept playing with her one tit, using her free hand to caress my head. I passionately licked her, paying special attention to her clit, making her squirm and moan.

In a strange way, this was actually helping me, as I didn't have to talk to her. I didn't keep track of time, and simply enjoyed what I was doing. Judging from the moaning and groping she was doing, I could only assume she was too. I gave her clit a thorough workout and actually tongue fucked her intermittently. She moaned louder and louder, and started pushing my head in deeper between her legs, making me gasp for air. Although I couldn't be sure – heck, I couldn't even tell with Laura when I was going down on her – I assumed, that she'd had a pretty big orgasm.

After what must have been close to twenty minutes, I felt my cock coming back to life. I freed it from my pants and began tugging it, again, getting it fully hard and pulsating. In the heat of passion, I got up and pushed my fat tip against her soaking wet twat. Panting, she simply looked down at my cock, ready to penetrate her, and made no attempt to stop me.

I rammed it in, making her moan. I fucked her hard, deep and fast. She promptly had another orgasm and clawed her fingers into the arm rests of the one-sitter. I couldn't believe I was fucking my own mother, nor how good her twat felt around my dick. Right now, neither of us seemed to care about our blood relation. She wanted it; I wanted it, that was enough for now.

Being as horny as I was, I didn't last more than a couple of minutes. Not wanting to shoot my sperm in her womb, I pulled out just in time and jacked off all over her belly, her pussy and her thighs. I really made a mess. Mom just laid there, panting, looking my cock soiling her.

As soon as my climax was over, my lust was replaced by awkwardness and shame.

I stuffed my cock back in my pants as I got up, and whispered, "Okay, I think I am gonna go."

Mom didn't reply, didn't move and just laid there, in the same lewd position as she'd been in for almost half an hour now.

I nearly sprinted out of the house as I thought to myself, "What have I done... again?"

In the car, on my way home, I tried to explain mom's behavior; as if analyzing the situation was going to make what we had done less perverted. Feeling pretty guilty, I passed by the flower shop and bought the biggest bouquet of roses known to mankind, in an attempt to patch things up with Laura.

Although she accepted the flowers with a smile, and claimed all was forgiven, her attitude towards me hardly improved. We only spoke when absolutely necessary, and ignored each other for the rest of the evening – which was not so unusual as you might think.

Our relationship was already under a lot of stress, due to her recent promotion, which had put her in charge of a whole division. As a result, she had started putting in some ridiculously long hours. And even when she eventually did make it home, she was always on that infernal phone of hers. I didn't want to stand in the way of her career, and so I did my best to support her. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and things only seemed to get worse. After a while, it became clear that we hardly had any relationship left to speak of.

As always, the sex was the first thing to go. Barely two weeks after her promotion, I was jacking off behind my computer again, while watching porn. I hadn't done that since I was in college. Intimacy was the next casualty. No more cuddling in front of the tv, no more going to the gym together, no more fooling around all over the house...

Pretty soon, we even stopped talking to each other, limiting our interactions to the absolute minimum. Although the love was still there, our relationship had lost all of its former glory. In an attempt to get our relationship back on the right track, we started seeing a therapist, doctor Carmichael, twice a week. In my humble opinion, the whole therapy thing was a waste of money, not to mention time – which ironically was the real problem to begin with. Still, it was one of the few things Laura was willing to make time for, and so I played along.

Truthfully, I think I had already given up on our relationship at that point, but was simply too stubborn, and still too much in love with Laura, to admit it. Maybe that's why it was so important for me not to ruin my relationship with mom – it was the only one I had left.

Deciding that a little time away from mom was just what I needed, I avoided all contact with her for the next four days. Although the incident(s) continued to haunt me, and provided me with the occasional, unexpected and inappropriate boner, I stayed true to my own advice. No phone calls, no texts, no visits.

But then, Sunday came, and since Laura had to work – big surprise – I decided to spend the afternoon over at mom's, instead of sitting around an empty house all by myself. Although I was nervous and worried, I also realized I was going to have to face her sooner or later. I quickly sent her a text, telling her I was on my way, so I wouldn't be able to chicken out.

Figuring that acting normal was the best course of action, I entered through the back door and called out, "Hey mom, sorry it took so long, but there was an accident on the I-65."

When I entered the living room, my cock got instantly hard – although I had jacked off two hours before – when I saw her sitting there, at the dinner table, reading a magazine. Unlike her, she was wearing a stretchy, white top, with a fiery, red bra on top of it!

"Hi... uh... I... uh, traffic..." I stuttered, gawking at – and probably drooling over – her fat tits, lewdly accentuated by her strange choice of outfit. Mom gave me a knowing and wicked smile, and got up – revealing that she wasn't wearing a skirt, nor pants, just black panties.

"Wanna fuck?" she asked bluntly, hooking her thumbs behind the waistband of the panties.

"What? Mom, no!" I replied, baffled at being asked that question, even after recent events.

"Want me to jack you off then?" she persisted, reaching out to cup the bulge in my pants.

"Mom!" I said, taking a step back, "We've got to stop doing this!"

"Why?" she said, taking a step towards me, nullifying my previous step back.

"What do you mean why? I replied, "This is fucked up!"

"I know," she grinned, "That's why it's so much fun, isn't it?"

"Mooom..." I whispered, confused and bewildered.

"Look, I'll be honest with you," mom whispered, "I had forgotten how much I enjoy sex, and how much I love being a slut... I never thought I'd feel this way again, after your father passed away."

"But... mom, surely you realize this is wrong," I said, trying to ignore how horny I was.

"It's just lust, no big deal," she replied casually.

"But... I can't even look at you after we're... you know..." I admitted.

"That's okay, you don't have to cuddle, or talk to me, or even look at me when you're done," mom whispered softly, "You just jack off... or fuck me, and then leave!"

"Mom! What? But that's just plain disrespectful!" I exclaimed.

"It is,' she whispered softly, with a wicked wide grin on her face.

"You... you like that?" I asked, confused.

"I guess I do," mom replied, smiling bashfully.

"Jesus Christ mom," I whispered, my cock suddenly so hard, it was almost bursting out of my jeans. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Although my brain still had plenty of arguments left as to why we should end the affaire – or whatever this was – my cock had begun using all blood flow, turning me into a babbling baboon.