The first time I ended up doing it with my own mother took place years ago. I was twenty two back then and she was forty six. I was studying at a university, she just had become the principal of the only school my home town had. But we didn't just do it, plenty of different things, events slowly led towards it.
When I left my home town roughly nine teen years old to move into a bigger city to study at an everything but unknown university my mother was more than proud of me. She did everything to support me, and I did everything to give back to her as much as anyhow possible.
It was her -- and my father, despite him leaving my mother's and my life a few years prior, but he still paid alimony for his studying son -- who made it possible that I could afford a room in a shared apartment and didn't need any permanent job on the side to somehow survive university.
Leaving my hometown was an awesome thing. Finally I was free, out of parental supervision -- not that my parents were very strict regarding those things -- and I could do whatever I wanted. I could date whomever I wanted. Without having to make sure to not become the talk of town.
It didn't took long and I found myself hooking up with women that were at least twice my age. It just was my thing to do. Those older women, they just did it for me. Not that I wasn't getting it up when being in bed with someone my age, but those women that were roughly the age my mother was, or even older, they were just my thing to do.
After roughly one year living in the big city I more or less had lost all interest into women my age, or less then a decade, better two older than me. At the university and in my knew friend circle I quickly became known as the granny and milf lover. I just lived with it. Accepted it, and went for those hot older women.
When I returned back home back then, it happened about once a month, to meet up with some old friends, to say hi to my mother, to empty her fridge, I mostly always dodged questions about me having a girlfriend. I told my friends that I was enjoying being single and fucking around, I told my mother -- and everyone else except my friends that asked -- that I just hadn't found the right one yet.
Most people accepted my answer, but my mother wasn't most people. She quickly saw through her only son: "It is okay son. Enjoy yourself. Gather some experience, but be careful to not knock up anyone and to don't get an STD."
Yeah, exactly what you don't want to hear from your mom ever. And you don't want to hear it when you are around twenty years old. But our conversation wasn't over back then. Because my mother is a nosy woman that deep down inside wanted to know everything. So she asked me a question: "And, what kind of women are you after?"
I tried to dodge her question, but she stayed at it. My mother went on my nerves until she got her answer. An answer that but a more than surprised expression on her face: "Women that are your age or older. Happy now?"
Silence. My mother didn't say a single word. I could see on her face that she was thinking. Then she quickly changed the topic and we went on with our lives, and the day after we had that at least for me more than awkward conversation I went back into the big city, back to university.
When I came back home from university the next time, at first glance, everything was the same. But at second glance, my mother had changed a little bit. Her clothing stile had gotten sexier, she was showing herself off a little bit more, and it was then that I realized that my mother actually was more than just my mother. That she was like the woman I had dating, hooking up with since I had left my hometown
So kinky me decided that it would be a good idea to jerk off while thinking about his own mother. It gave me that nice I am doing something forbidden and totally wrong but also more than hot feeling while I polished my hard wood. It always came more than good. But post nut clarity hit hard.
At least in the beginning, but it wore off and that nice I am doing something hot but totally wrong feeling stayed. It was also during that time that I actually began to look after my mother.
And nope, I wasn't installing hidden cameras, I wasn't drilling holes into walls, I wasn't looking through keyholes, I just checked her out when she came up with the great idea to run through the house in her underwear, or when she was taking a sunbath -- it was the warmer season, university would soon go into summer break -- in a very tiny bikini in the backyard.
Then on my last visit at home before the summer break that I was planning on spending mostly in my hometown, fixing up my mothers house a little bit, helping out a friend in his store, a drunk friend of mine told me something. He told me that my mother was hooking up with guys our age. And that he actually wished to end up in bed with her.
At first I dismissed his saying as some horny drunk talking. But while I was back in the city, learning for my exams, the thought of my mother being into guys in her son's age, it grew on my. It fulled my fantasies. I was jerking off while thinking about me doing my mother, or my mother doing me, her only son, a lot. I came to the point back then, were kinky perverted me actually wanted to do it. To do the unspeakable, to fuck his on mother.
Unfortunately I didn't knew back then that my mother shared the same fantasy. That she also became fond of the idea to do something totally forbidden. That she was turned on by it like me, and that she also was thinking about her own son when playing with herself, or when she had a two decades younger lover in her bed.
Then summer came around. I returned back home, I began to fix up the house while my mother still had to teach, because university breaks are longer than school breaks were I am from. But that didn't stopped us from spending a little bit more time together than in the past.
