All characters involved in sexual acts in this story are over 18. Mom-son incest, pee, oral.
***
My father died when I was twelve. My mother had a few boyfriends over the years, but she was really keen on the last one, Gerry. He called it off. A week later, still hurting, my mum got quite drunk and put 'that' dress on. Slinky ocean blue, tight, deep cleavage right to the top of her tummy so there was lots of titty-flesh on show, and it hugged her thighs and ass so well it was as if she'd painted it on.
She sashayed into my room, swaying a little, and demanded to know why it wasn't enough to win the man of her dreams.
"Jeez, mum. You sure you should be asking me?"
"Why not? At least I can rely on you to give me an honest answer."
"OK. You're as hot as chillies, mum. Alright?"
"Oh, so now you're just saying it. To humour me. Thought you'd be brave enough to tell me the truth."
"Are you kidding? Wow, mum. Look at yourself. Your...um boobs are spectacular! And your legs, and your thighs, hips, everything."
"I used to call this my 'man-trap'. I wore it the night Gerry dumped me."
"Then he's an idiot."
"Maybe, but I still don't have him. Tommy, it isn't my body, is it? I mean, you're right. I am pretty damn hot."
"It just wasn't meant to be, mum. Sorry, I know it hurts, but..."
"Yeah. Yeah I know. And I had that talk with you in this very room a little while ago, after Suzie..."
It still hurt a little. Suzie left me for some guy she met at work. Breaking up is one thing, being passed over for someone else is another.
"Yeah. I saw her today, too."
She saw the hurt in my eyes and, as always, she pushed her own issues aside to fix mine.
"Oh, baby. C'mere. You OK?"
I sat at my desk, playing on my computer, but suddenly I was clamped to her ample breasts, in 'that' dress, no less, and I couldn't help but breathe in her fragrance. If she hadn't been drunk, she might not have been pushing my nose quite so hard against the side of her tit. I tried to tell her I was OK, but it was muffled by her flesh. When I came out for air, she was looking down her chest at me with concern. "Really, mum, I'm OK."
"Good. She would never be good enough for my boy anyway. Nobody will."
I laughed: "So, who am I allowed to end up with?"
"Me. Only me." She was playing, of course, so I played along: "Oh really? And how do you and I deal with our... what was your phrase the other day? Right... How do we deal with our 'erotic needs'?"
She laughed. "Well, you could do worse than me, right?"
"Yeah mum. A lot worse."
"C'mere, on the bed, sit with me." I did. "You always know how to make me feel better. Thanks baby. And I know I'm drunk and I wouldn't say this if I wasn't, but you, my fine son, would be a great catch for a milf like me."
"Milf, is it?"
"Yes. Or is it cougar? I forget."
"Mum?"
"Yeah?"
"Er, you're almost falling out of that dress." The breast furthest from me was millimeters from popping out a nipple. I knew, because the shape of it was just past the fabric. She looked at it and just said: "Oh." But she just went on with her ramble without fixing it. "I know some women my age take young lovers, but why do you suppose young men want milfs? Or cougars, or whatever?"
"I dunno, to take advantage of their experience maybe."
"Yeah, maybe. So, you know any young bucks that might be interested? No, scratch that. I can't be arsed with messing about 'getting to know' someone."
"Mum, you're a bit... um..."
"Plastered. I know." She laughed and that nipple was now being cut in half by her dress. Dark pink, full, as round as a carrot slice. "Am I bothering you, son?"
She wasn't, especially since I was about to get a nipple-shaped surprise.
"No, mum."
"Thanks honey." She pulled me to her, clasped me to her chest again, and there it was. That nipple, out in the open, literally under my nose. I decided to tease her in case she was embarrassed: "By the way, mum, if I knew a milf with tits like these, I wouldn't be able to resist."
"Hahaha. Oh. I see what you mean. It just popped out. Do you like them, Tommy? My tits?"
Her hands slid down her breasts from above, cupping them inside the dress, then simply pushing them up and out.
"Oh mum. Jesus. What are you doing?"
"Well I just thought, you said you'd like a milf, I want a young lover without the hassle, so..."
"But I'm your son."
She sighed: "Yes, I know. Tommy, do you want to?"
I gazed at those fine, round heavy tits. I hoped I knew what she meant, but I needed to be sure. "What?"
She almost whispered: "Do you want to have sex with me?"
"Mum, I... hell. You're drunk, mum."
"I had to get tipsy to ask you. But I'm not wearing this dress by accident. I put it on before I had anything to drink."
I must have blushed brightly. "Oh, son! It's OK. Why don't I show you what you'll get?"
Mum stood, dropped the straps to the side and stepped out of the dress. She was completely naked in front of me. I drank her in. Her tits barely sagged even without the support of the dress. They were large, pendulous, but firm. Her tummy had a very slight bulge, like in those classic portraits of nudes. It curved downwards into a v that dragged my eyes to her sex. There she stood with her thighs slightly apart. I saw smooth lips beside a pink slit, and above them a little strip of dark pubic hair.