My Mother My Lover
I moved out of the family home not long after I turned 18. I had found a good job in the city and to cut down on the commute, I had decided to rent a small apartment closer to my work. I managed to find a suitable place, but it took the combined incomes of my girlfriend and me to be able to afford living there.
About six months ago I felt my life was falling apart. In quick succession I lost my job (a forced redundancy) and my girlfriend (who cheated on me). I was facing a mini-crisis - it felt like a mid-life crisis, but I was only 20 years old! The only thing I could do with no immediate job offers and no savings was to ask my parents if I could move back in with them, at least until I found my feet again.
My father, Dave, was nonchalant about it all. His only comment was for me not to expect him to give him a job... something about nepotism not being a good look for his company.
My mother, Sami, was overjoyed that her 'baby boy' was coming home again. As far as she was concerned, I should never have left in the first place. I think that she was rapt to have someone to talk to and to keep her company around the house during the day.
She is, without a doubt, one of the most attractive women I know. She is a natural redhead with pale almost porcelain-like skin, a beautiful and bountiful pair of breasts (which I now know to measure 38") sit atop a slender waist, wide hips and long, slim legs. The whole package is kept in shape with regular visits to the gym and swimming laps in our backyard pool. Her most striking features though were on her face: piercing emerald-green eyes and luscious lips under an unremarkable, but still cute, nose. All my friends made comments about her such as being 'the sexiest MILF in the neighbourhood,' but to me she was just 'plain Mum.'
Maybe it was because I hadn't seen her in a while or I simply hadn't noticed before, but during the past two years in my absence her wardrobe has undergone a subtle change. Gone were the nondescript jeans, loose tops and shift dresses that she used to favour, replaced by a series of low-cut tops and t-shirts, and short skirts. The overall result accentuated her impressive bust and displayed a dark but inviting cleavage. If there was one thing to say about my mother is that she looked hot, especially when she went braless (which was more commonplace nowadays). She had become a hot cougar, and I began to agree with the comments my friends were making about her being one sexy MILF.
To my astonishment, I started getting hard-ons if I was in the vicinity of my mother with nasty thoughts crowding my mind.
"This is wrong,"
my brain told me,
"You're not supposed to have these thoughts about your mother."
But still the thoughts and images persisted.
I also began to have fantasies about making love to her, even though a small part of my brain said that it is somehow wrong; but my dick had other ideas and was thinking for itself.
My masturbation sessions took on a whole new strategy. While most men would fantasise about fucking celebrity women or their favourite porn stars, I would be imagining making love to none other than my beautiful mother! My favourite fantasy involves me stripping my mother naked and then her doing the same to me before we start having an enthusiastic 69 makeout session. We would then fuck like bunnies until finally I cum hard and I imagine spraying my mother's face and tits with my hot seed.
I feel too ashamed to tell my mother about the fantasies I have with her in the starring role as my lover because I am full of misgivings about the consequences if I did.
Should I tell my mother how I feel when I'm close to her? How will she react? Will she reciprocate my feelings? Or will she think of me as some sick perv? Or worse?
were just some of the unanswered questions running through my mind. With my mind so confused, I made one rational decision: my fantasies would have to remain just that... private fantasies.
To stop getting involuntary boners, I managed to avoid my mother for the next couple of days. One morning I was finishing my breakfast when my mother cornered me. To my relief, she was wearing the most unsexy clothes imaginable - her old nondescript dressing gown and fluffy slippers. There was no chance of me getting an unwanted boner.
"Chris, you've been avoiding me these last couple of days and I need to ask you a question. Do you think I'm attractive?" she asked bluntly.
"Mum, you are the most beautiful woman I know," I answered truthfully, even though I was thinking what a strange question to ask at the breakfast table.
"Are you saying that because I'm your mum, or do you truly think that I am a desirable woman? A MILF, I think you call it." She looked at me with those killer green eyes that seemed to pierce straight into my soul.
This was so surreal that I hesitated before answering because I was unsure of where this conversation was heading, and I was scared of embarrassing myself.
"Uh, I think the latter; despite what you're wearing right now."
"I am only wearing this so you wouldn't get distracted," answered my mother. "I need a truthful answer now, have you ever fantasized about fucking me?"
"What the fuck?"
I thought.
"Did I hear my mother correctly?"
I could feel my cock instantly tenting my shorts from this conversation and one of my fantasies flashed through my mind. I said to my mother, "Mum, what did you say? I think that it is totally inappropriate for a mother to ask that sort of question of her child."
My mother was clearly annoyed with my answer. "We're only talking, and I'll decide what is or isn't appropriate here. So, I will ask you again... have you thought about fucking me?"
I swallowed hard as I decided to answer truthfully. "Mum, I know that it is morally wrong to think like that, but there is nothing else I think about these days. All my sex fantasies involve you; I can't help it. Like I've told you before, you are just so hot and sexy. I can't even stay in your vicinity without getting a boner."
"Oh, really?" she asked as she stood up and craned her neck to look at my crotch. I tried in vain to cover myself with my hands, but she had already seen the outline my cock was making in my shorts. "Well, it looks like my boy isn't a baby anymore," she commented.
I was glowing bright red with embarrassment and at a loss as to what was to happen next. Fortunately, my mother took charge of the situation.
"Take your hands away and let me see what you're packing," she said as she got up and moved behind me. Her scent filled my nostrils as I obeyed. "Am I causing that? I'm hardly dressed for the occasion."
"Mum, to me, you're sexy in whatever you wear," I said as I found my voice again.
"Thanks, I can always take compliments. Now, enough talking. How would you like to turn your fantasies into reality?" she asked before giving my ear a little nibble.
My cock instantly hardened. "Really, Mum? You'd let me fuck you?"
My mother stepped in front of me and grabbed the outline of my cock through my shorts.
"I've always said that actions speak louder than words," she said as she traced along the outline with her fingers. "Unless you're all talk," she added teasingly.
I reached up and dragged her face down to mine. Her scent was like an aphrodisiac as we French-kissed like lovers, our tongues intertwined and jostled each other furiously. It was the most passionate kiss I had ever experienced.
When eventually we broke the kiss, my mother straightened up and said, "Mmm, that's a great start. Now, can you give me what I really want... a good, hard fuck?" She gave my cock a light squeeze for emphasis.
"I'll try my best," I answered her.
"Good. Now give me five minutes and then meet me in my bedroom. Oh, and lose your clothes along the way," my mother instructed as she moved away.
I was momentarily stunned, so I just sat where I was and followed her departure with my eyes, trying to comprehend what was happening. Lust took over. I found it strangely exciting to hear my mother talk as bluntly as she had; and her brief seduction technique caused my cock to become ramrod stiff, ready for action. As soon as Mum disappeared up the stairs, I jumped up and virtually sprinted to my room. I stripped off my T-shirt and shorts, and then turned and surveyed myself in the mirror. My 61/2" cock stood out proudly and there's no doubt that I was excited; I was about to have sex with the woman of my lust-filled dreams. I took a deep breath and then with my cock leading the way, I headed down the corridor to my parents' bedroom.
I politely knocked on the door before entering, and any misgivings I had about sex with my mother were quickly dispelled when I saw the goddess-like form before me. To say I was gobsmacked would be an understatement. There was my mother reclining on the bed in all her naked glory; her red hair cascaded down over her wondrous breasts with her hard, pink nipples poking through, her slim waist tapered down to a glistening pussy that had just a hint of clipped ginger pubic hair above bald lips, and her long legs stretched further down the bed. She looked at me with those beautiful green eyes of hers and she smiled when she saw me. She tapped the bed beside her.
"Come over here with me, Chris," she said. "You like what you see?" she added while looking lustfully at my engorged cock which had started to leak precum in anticipation of what was to follow.
