My Mother Is the One That I Love

My Mother is the One that I Love

Forsaking all others, my mother is the one that I love.

I love my mother and she loves me.

"I love you, mother," said James hugging his mother and kissing her on the lips.

Caroline smiled at her son.

"I love you, too, James," said Caroline returning her son's hug with her hug and his kiss with her kiss.

# # #

Author's Note:

James asked me to write this true story about the sexually, incestuous relationship that he had with his mother, Caroline, thirty-years ago, when he was twenty-four-years-old and his mother was forty-eight-years-old. His mother was the one who suggested that he move back home and stay as long as he wanted. Ashamed to admit that he had a sexual relationship with his mother that lasted several years, because of the possible blowback that would result from family and friends, with her now dead and buried, he's admitting to all that sexually happened between them now.

# # #

Having recently broken up with my girlfriend, Aurora, until I could afford a place of my own or find a roommate, having to take a step backwards, I'm temporarily living at home with my forty-eight-year-old mother, Caroline. With my father no longer in the picture, no longer having to struggle to move furniture, my mother welcomed the extra help around the house that only a man with a strong back could bring. Still, at twenty-four-years-old, it was weird living with my mother. Women don't usually date men who still live at home with their mothers.

'I beg your pardon? You what? You live with your mother? How old are you,' I imagined a woman that I was trying to pick up asking me?

Unless she invited me to her place, or we had sex in the car, I had no place to take her for sex. For sure, unless I had sex with my mother, something that I'd love to do, living with my mother curtailed me from having any sex other than the sex that I had with my hand when masturbating myself over my mother. Suffice to write, after breaking up with my girlfriend, a gross understatement, I was horny.

Alas and unfortunately, something that she found grossly disturbing, my mother would never have sex with me. A real lady with a professional occupation, an editor for a big publishing company, she's not the incestuous pervert that I am. She viewed sex between a mother and son as forbidden, nasty, and even illegal. Morally modest, closer to a nun in her religious beliefs, she's the furthest woman from being an incestuous whore.

Yet, not all bad having to return home to live with my mother, we had a good relationship. To occupy our time together, we played board games and cards. We watched movies while cuddling on the couch together. We're able discuss anything without fear of being misunderstood.

Something she didn't know; I had always been sexually attracted to my mother. She had no idea that every morning and every night, I masturbated over imagining her naked and her having sex with me. If only she would have sex with me, I would do anything, anything at all, to have sex with my mother.

At the very least, hoping beyond hope that she'd flash me, I'd love to see upskirt peeks of my mother's white, bikini panties. I'd love to see down-blouse views of her long, sexy line of cleavage, the tops of her big breasts, and her low-cut sexy bra. No surprise, I'd love to have hot and heavy, rolling around sex with her.

I'd love to do every sexual thing that a son should never do with his mother and a mother should never do with her son. Yet, sadly and sexually frustratingly, the closest thing that I had to having sex with my mother was holding a pair of her soiled panties while masturbating myself. There's something about the scent of her pussy is a big turn-on when I'm stroking my cock while imagining having sex with my mother.

'I wish I could fuck my mother. I do. I really do,' I thought while stroking my cock in my bedroom. 'I'd wish she'd take me in her hand to stroke me before taking me in her mouth to suck me. My long-time sexual fantasy, I'd love to put a gentle hand behind my mother's blonde, pretty head and cum in her mouth. What's wrong with that when I love my mother and she loves me?'

# # #

An understatement, my MILF of a mother is a good-looking woman with a sexy and shapely body. With me living at home, this time around, more of my mother's beautiful body. I was hoping to see my mother in her low-cut bra and white, bikini panties. I was hoping to see her topless. I was hoping to see her naked. A sexual fantasy of mine to see more of my mother than her bra strap, I hoped that she'd expose herself to me in the way that I wanted to expose myself to her.

Yet, again, living with my mother wasn't all bad. Instead of eating TV dinners and takeout food, she's a great cook. Fatting me up, she'll take pleasure in spoiling me by cooking me all of my favorite meals. Moreover, with us having a history of watching movies together, it was fun to watch the movies that we love over again.

Something as simple as dining together, I love eating with my mother better than I enjoyed eating with my girlfriend. Instead of having strained conversations with my girlfriend, careful what I say to her, I never had strained conversations with my mother. I never had to be careful with what I said to my mother.

Sometimes, I wouldn't even have to finish the sentence. She knew my meaning and what I was going to say next without even saying it. With us both on the same wavelength, we were not only mother and son but we were friends, best friends.

Like me, my mother worked from home and with us now always together, she seemed happy for my company. Moreover, now she had someone to shop for groceries and run errands for her. She hated shopping for groceries and running errands. With people still contracting COVID, even after they've had all of their shots, even though we both had our vaccinations, she was content to stay safe by sheltering at home. Rather than unnecessarily going out, she had whatever she needed delivered. Who could blame her? With there so much gun violence and mass shootings, leaving the house could be dangerous.

She confessed that her excuse not to go out was that men were always hitting on her at the grocery store. For sure, if I saw my mother in a grocery store wearing a short skirt and a low-cut blouse, while bending at the waist to reach something in the back of a display case, I'd be hitting on her, too. With her, no doubt, giving men upskirt peeks of her white, bikini panties and down-blouse views of her low-cut bra and her long, sexy line of cleavage, who could blame any man for hitting on my MILF of a mother?

# # #

After back home living with my mother for a few months, the one, probing question that I always troubled me was something that I had wanted and needed to ask her but never had the courage to ask her. Afraid to ask her the question years ago, I thought about asking her this specific question now. I still wondered what her reaction would be to me asking her such a sexually, inappropriate question. Yet, determined to ask her the question, biding my time while waiting for the right moment, I needed to wait for a time when she'd be more receptive to my question.

While pretending that I was looking at my phone, I stared at my mother while watching her working. With her long, blonde hair and big blue eyes, I couldn't stop looking at her. With my mother having such big tits, the buttons of her blouse never fully closed and I could clearly see the side of her white brassiere. Then, being the disgusting son that I am, giving me something to masturbate over later, I pretended to drop my pen so that I could look beneath the table and peer between her legs at her white panties.

Something that I had always wondered about since I turned eighteen-years-old, I wondered what she looked like in her sexy, low-cut bra and in her sheer and revealing, bikini panties. With me a breast man, I always wanted to see my mother's naked breasts. I wondered what she looked like topless. Extrapolating my sexual thoughts from there, I wondered what my mother looked naked. Now, that I was back home living with her, I hoped to not only see her in her bra and panties and topless but also, I hoped to see her naked, too.

Who knows? Something that she never did before, but I hoped that she'd do this time around, maybe my mother would dress and undress with her bedroom door open enough for me to see her undressing. Hoping beyond hope, maybe, my mother would show me what she looked like in her bra and panties, topless, and/or naked. In the way that I'd love my mother to flash me and expose herself to me, if only for her reaction to her seeing my naked, erect prick, I'd love to flash her and expose myself to her.

Not wanting to ruin things between us by rushing things, and not wanting her to fear me, even though I really wanted to know her answer to my question, I waited to ask her my question until the time was right. Yet, a troubling thought, how dare I sexually solicit my mother? What's wrong with me to hit on my mother?

I felt as guilty and perversely perverted as I felt sexually excited by the thought of asking my mother such an inappropriate, sexual question. Nevertheless, now that I was back living at home, I was determined to ask her my question. I needed to know how she'd respond. Would she say yes or would she say no?

Instead of delaying asking her my question any longer, instead of playing games, and instead of regretting my decision for not asking my question again, I was ready to ask her what I needed to know. I always regretted that I hadn't asked her my question before I left home to move in with Aurora. Now that I was living back home with my mother, with this time right, I decided to finally ask her the question that I had always wanted to know her answer.

Curious what she'd say and how she'd react to me asking her such a sexually loaded question, maybe she'd surprise me and say yes. Having nothing to lose and everything to gain, it wasn't as if she was going to kick me out of her house for asking her such a sexually, inappropriate question. The worst that would happen is that she'd say no.

Who knows? Maybe, with us both on the same sexual page, she'd say yes. Surprising me, shocking me, and sexually exciting me, wouldn't that be something if my mother affirmatively responded to my question. If she responded yes to my question, I'd be the happiest son in the world.

# # #

"Mom," I asked ready to finally ask her my question?

She answered me while she was still working.

"What?"

She mindlessly responded without even looking up from her work. I could have been standing there naked for all that she knew. Yet, before asking her my question, I waited to have her full attention. I needed to see the reaction on her face to me asking her such a question. When I paused, she looked up at me.

"Yes, James, what is it? I'm busy. I'm working," she said looking annoyed that I interrupted her.

I took a big breath for courage before asking her my question. Suddenly, instead of being sexually excited about asking her such a question, I was afraid that she'd think less of me for asking her such a sexually charged question. Wondering what she'd think of me for asking such a sexually loaded question, I felt like the incestuous pervert that I am. Hoping not to ruin the close relationship that I had with my mother, up until now, with sex not on the table and not part of our relationship, we had a good and close mother and son relationship.

Yet, being hard on myself, I felt like any other typical, sexually twisted man who wanted to sexually use and abuse his mother. Nonetheless, I'd never rest until I asked her the question that I needed to know the answer to no matter how sexually inappropriate it was and no matter how she viewed me for asking. I knew my mother wouldn't be mad at me for asking. No doubt, not taking me seriously, she'd probably just make a joke of my question and laugh.

"Something that I've always wanted to ask you but have been afraid that you'd think less of me for asking you," I said suddenly feeling so nervously embarrassed.

'This was it. This was really it. I was finally going to ask my mother my question that I always wanted to ask her,' I thought. 'Oh, my God. I hope she'd say yes.'

She removed her reading glasses and looked up from her work to look at me. She was so very pretty and she looked sexy with her reading glasses. It was then that I wished I had a girlfriend who looked like my mother. I'd love to find a woman that not only looked like her but also, talked like her, laughed like her, and walked like her. I'd love to find my mother's clone.

"You know that you can ask me anything, James, and I'd never think less of you. I'm your mother and you're my son. I love you."

She smiled and if she wasn't beautiful enough before, whenever she smiled, she was even more beautiful.

"What is it, James? What would you like to ask me," she asked while pausing to rephrase her question? "What is it that you want to know?"

# # #

I stared at her while undressing her with my eyes. I imagined her sitting across from me in her bikini panties and in her sexy, low-cut, D cup bra. I imagined her sitting across from me topless. Imagining seeing the size and the shape of my mother's big, naked breasts, I imagined seeing her areolas and her erect nipples.

Then, if that wasn't enough, I imagined her sitting across from me naked. I imagined her exposing her blonde, trimmed pussy and her shapely, round ass to me. If she was sitting across from me naked, giving me plenty to masturbate over later, I imagined dropping my pen again and again to move to the floor to steal peeks between her legs of her naked, blonde, trimmed pussy.

Again, if that wasn't enough, something that I'd love to do, I imagined her with my big dick stretching her beautiful mouth. I imagined her stroking me and sucking me while staring up at me while I fondled her big, naked tits and fingered her erect nipples. Finally, something that I always imagined doing when masturbating over my mother and while imagining her naked and having sex with me, I imagined cumming in my mother's mouth.

'How hot would that be for my mother to blow me,' I thought? 'I'd love to cum in my mother's mouth.'

Not done cumming, when she withdrew my cock from her lips, I imagined shooting a second load of cum all over her pretty face and across her naked breasts. Not happy with just cumming in my mother's mouth, as if I owned her naked body, I imagined giving her a cum bath. With cum dripping from her hair, her nose, her lips, her chin, and her naked breasts, I'd love to see my mother dripping with my cum.

As if someone else had asked her the question, I finally blurted out what I wanted to ask her. Even after I asked her the question, I couldn't believe that I finally asked my mother what I've wanted to know for years but was afraid to ask her. She was my mother and not some barroom whore. How dare I insult her by asking her such a sexually, inappropriate question? Yet, there it was. It was out there. Now, it was up to her to say yes or no.

"Mom, you know that I love you, right," I said taking a long pause while looking at my mother as she was my lover instead my mother, before asking her what I really wanted to ask her? "Can we have sex?"

As if a bomb dropped, suddenly everything was so quiet. I even imagined that the grandfather clock stopped ticking. When I looked over at my mother, she sat perfectly still as if she was frozen in time. Unable to read her, I wondered what she was thinking.

# # #

"Sex?"

Seemingly never expecting me to ask her such a sexually inappropriate question, she looked up at me stunned. She looked at me embarrassed that I'd dare ask her such a question. She looked up at me with confusion before a flash of sexual arousal revealed what she was really thinking. Then, seemingly covering up her flash of sexual arousal, no doubt, thinking that I was joking with her, she laughed out loud.

From there, she looked at me as if I was pulling her leg. She looked at me as if I was kidding. She looked at me as if I wasn't serious. She looked at me as if I was trying to trick her into saying something that she didn't want to say. She looked at me as if I was trying to trick her into saying yes.

"Yes, of course we can have sex," she said with a laugh. "Right after I'm finished working, we can have sex," she said sarcastically with another laugh and a wink.

Not dissuaded from her not taking me seriously and/or my question serious, making a joke out of my question, no matter, I persevered in the sexual seduction of my mother. My golden opportunity served up on a silver platter, now that I asked her if we could have sex, this was my chance to have sex with my mother. With her not having a man in her life and with me not having a woman in my life, I suspected that she was just as sexually frustrated as I was horny.

'With us doing everything together, as if we were a married couple, boyfriend and girlfriend, and/or already lovers, what's wrong with asking my mother if we could have sex,' I thought?

Something that I didn't know but hoped that she was, I suspected that she was just as sexually attracted to me as I was sexually attracted to her. I suspected that she wanted to have sex with me as much as I wanted to have sex with her. I suspected that she wanted to see me naked while touching and feeling my naked body everywhere as much as I wanted to see her naked while touching and feeling her naked body everywhere.

My long-time sexual fantasy come true, there's nothing else that I wanted more than to have sex with my MILF of a mother. Always wanting her to blow me, and always wanting to cum in her mouth, there's no one else who'd I'd wanted to touch, feel, undress, make love to, and fuck than my mother. Curious to know how she'd answer my question, I needed to know how she'd seriously answer my question without making a joke out of it.

Would she say yes or would she say no? Going from there, I needed to know if I had the slightest chance of having incestuous sex with my mother. Even if she said no, I'd still be masturbating over my mother while imagining her naked and having sex with me. Even if she said know, I'd still try and steal peeks of my mother in her bra and panties, topless, and/or naked.

# # #

"I'm serious, mother," I said pausing while looking at her.

She was so beautiful. She was so sexy. None of my friends had a mother who looked like her. I was lucky to have her for my mother.

"To be honest, mother, I'd love to have sex with you," I said further debasing myself. "I think having a sexual relationship with you would be so hot. Furthermore, having a sexual relationship with one another would bond us together forever in the way that no other mother and son would be as close."

Giving me the eye while quietly continuing to stare at me, she looked at me as if she was thinking about having sex with me. Then, maintaining her moral distance between the sexual conformities of mother and son forbidden to have sex, she expanded on her answer. She told me everything that I wanted to know but nothing that I wanted to hear.

All that I wanted to hear her say was her to say, 'Yes. I'd love to have sex with you James,' I imagined her saying. 'I'd love to suck your cock and have you cum in my mouth. I'd love to make love to you and fuck you. I'd love you to give me multiple, sexual orgasms with your fingers, your tongue, and your cock.'

Only, she didn't say any of those things. Instead of giving me the answer that I wanted to hear, difficult to take, she rebuffed me. It was then that I felt embarrassed by asking her my sexually, inappropriate question and putting her on the spot. Knowing full well what her answer was already, I never should have asked her such a question. Feeling humiliated, I not only embarrassed myself but also, I embarrassed my mother, too. I just hoped that I hadn't damaged the close mother and son relationship that we had.