I managed to get in a few hours, which is nothing new to me. Like most drivers, I tend to split my sleep. It's an old habit that hasn't gone away. The powers back on and much of last night is little more than a blur. There's just one thing that I do remember and that's the one thing I wish I could forget.
I should feel something wrong after doing something like that with mom, but there's nothing negative that I can find within me. There should be guilt, shame, something. What the fuck's wrong with me? She's my mom and what we did was wrong in so many ways, but I can't find any sense of wrongness with our actions.
I groan as I get out of bed and I know she's still asleep. Coffee first, then put everything back that was stored outside. My knee is bothering me, but nowhere near as bad as it usually does. Perhaps I'm still a little buzzed, but I can't help to think it has to do with mom's handjob. Random thoughts can be a real bitch.
I start the coffee and make it a little stronger, since I can use the jolt. There are several beer cans that will be tossed later. Her bottle is mostly gone and I don't know if she opened a new one yesterday. Mom may have only had three glasses, but she's a lightweight and chances are she won't remember shit when she wakes.
The coffee tastes like shit, but it's strong and that's what I need right now. I finish the cup and throw on what I need to. I can see the paw prints from the raccoons that got curious, but they're long gone by now. The snow must have stopped shortly after we put everything out, since there's only about an inch sitting on the metal.
I brush it off and make quick work of bringing everything back inside. The snow's going to return and I don't want to be out there when it does. As the door closes behind me, I'm torn between another cup or putting things away. Either way, my knee feels like shit right now and won't be getting any better.
I decide to put everything away and make a quick job of it. Mom will organize later, unless the power goes out again. With a fresh cup, I stare out the sliding glass door and watch the snow start to fall. Glad I didn't wait, since I don't want to be out in that shit.
Mom comes out as I sit at the table and my jaw drops a little. She's wearing a robe that I've never seen. Her back is turned to me as she pours herself a cup and shouldn't be seeing so much of her slender legs. What she normally wears is something much longer and much less revealing. This one barely covers her ass and wonder if she's still drunk from last night.
Mom turns and smiles as she takes a sip, which shows just how strong it is. "Morning, Chris."
The robe is loosely tied and I can see her nipples peaking out. It's too early for me to say anything about it. If mom wants to dress like that, fuck it. All that matters is getting the rest of the cup into me and waiting for the pain in my knee to pass.
I take a sip and manage to bring my eyes up to her face. "Morning, mom."
She sits across from me and grimaces at the strong coffee, but doesn't go back to add anything to it. Her eyes are searching mine for something and I wonder if she's on the verge of apologizing for what happened between us. It was just a fucking handjob. No big deal.
She sets the cup down and her lips part as she speaks. "Listen, Chris, I need to say something and I need you not to interrupt me."
Her eyes show she's quite serious and I'm a little worried. Maybe she's been diagnosed with something and is about to tell me she's dying. Mom's only fifty, it isn't like she doesn't have a lot of time left. People get bad news from doctors all the time and age doesn't mean shit.
Rather than let my mind continue to wonder down some dark road, I nod and say, "Go ahead, mom."
She looks down a little sheepishly. "Good. About last night, I wasn't drunk. It takes more than a few glasses to get me shitfaced. I know you think I'm a lightweight, but far from it. I could probably drink you under the table."
I laugh, but keep quiet about the thoughts running through my mind. There's no way she can pretend to slur and stumble like that. If mom pulled that off, she should be in the fucking movies.
Her eyes move up to mine. "Fuck, this is hard."
Shitfaced I can ignore, but not fuck. What the fuck has gotten into mom. Maybe she really does have cancer and it's making her say shit she normally wouldn't say.
She takes a deep breath as she says, "Fuck it. Here it goes, Chris. I'm lonely. I'm tired of sleeping alone. I've been getting buzzed, not drunk, buzzed for a little liquid courage. Last night, I finally did it and I don't regret shit. You look a lot like your father and maybe that's why. You even have his dick."
I can't hold my tongue any longer. "What's this all about, mom."
She nods and says, "You're right. Might as well just come out and say it. I'm fifty years old and not exactly looking to meet anyone new. I have never been with anyone other than your father. I want you to sleep with me."
My jaw drops when I hear mom tell me that so bluntly. "Are you drunk, mom."
She shakes her head. "No, Chris, I'm very sober and I mean what I said. You don't go out much and I know you haven't been laid in a while. I know the closest since moving back was that handjob I gave you. I wanted you to know just how good I am. I'm glad you wanted me on my knees, since that shows desire."
I shake my head in disbelief. "It shows I didn't want you to open a fucking window."
Could mom be right? Why else would I have asked her to do that? Could have just as easily told her no deal, but I didn't. I let her give me a handjob and watched her spread my cum on her tits. Doesn't mean shit. Of course it does and I know it was more than a fucking handjob.
She smiles warmly and her voice sounds more feminine than I thought was possible from mom. "No, Chris, it shows you desire me and you know it."
Fuck, mom's right and there isn't shit that I can do about it. There's nothing about her that I should find appealing, but my eyes won't stop drifting down. She really isn't playing fare with that robe.
I groan as I have to admit the truth. "Fine, mom, you're right. There's something. I don't know what the fuck it is, but can't deny it. You're right, I could have told you no, but I didn't and that's on me."
Her voice is driving me crazy. "No, Chris, that's on us and it's no big deal. We're both adults, right? Listen, I have another deal for you. Move into my bedroom and sleep in my bed every night. In exchange, I'll do whatever you want. I'll never say no. I know you won't ever get a deal like this from anyone else."
My erection is making things very uncomfortable as I try to comprehend what's happening. "I don't know, mom. It's incest."
She smiles a little wider. "I know and I don't care. Maybe, if you didn't look so much like your father, it would be different. I don't have a single regret about last night. Do you?"
I shake my head as her nipples continue to peak out at me. "No, mom, I don't."
It's true what she said, about never having another opportunity like this. I've never been with a woman that won't say no. It's a little exciting and I think my dick just got a little harder. If I don't feel any guilt about the handjob, then maybe I'm just screwed up enough to go along.
Her voice is seductive and I hate that about her. "While you think about it, just remember a few things. I haven't had sex in over a year. Everything is tight. I'm going through menopause and can't get pregnant, so no condoms needed. I knew your father had a wondering eye, but I managed to keep him by being willing to do anything for him. That includes anal, Chris."
I know dad was happy with mom and now I know why. She does make some good points in favor of accepting her offer. I've never experienced anal, but always wanted to try it. The idea of never wearing a damned condom again comes in a close second. Can I actually be considering this?
Yes, I am and leaning towards going further with mom. I should feel something wrong when I think of her that way, but I don't. There should be some guilt or shame from the handjob, but there isn't anything like that to be found. Maybe, just maybe, I've always desired her and lied to myself about it. After all, I went for the women that were the complete opposite of mom in every way and that has to mean something.
My brown eyes look into her blue eyes as I say, "It's a deal."
She steps back from the chair and smiles. "Thank you, Chris."
Her soft hands are pulling me up and I forget about my knee. She falls to her knees and my pants fall to the floor. I watch as her hands move to my shaft and this time I stay focused on her eyes. It jumps a little as her touch and her lips part.
Mom's soft lips engulf the head of my dick as her hands work my shaft. Her tongue is doing things I never thought possible. I sigh out for her as she takes a little more inside and her eyes look lovingly into mine. There's nothing sick about any of this as she works my dick and I find I do love her.
I guess I always have, at least since I turned eighteen and had my whole world turned upside down, and not in that expected way. All of those women were simply me trying to deny the truth to myself. My knee is an afterthought as I sigh out again and feel her gag on the head of my dick. The only thing that exists is us and my eyes show the love I've been hiding for far too long.
What the fuck happened to change how I saw her? I have just a vague memory of seeing something, but have lied to myself far too well to know the truth. It's like a giant wall has been built, but I can catch a glimpse of something on the other side.
