All summer, Lisa had dreaded the thought of this week. Her only child was leaving for college and she faced endless days and nights virtually alone. Lisa's husband, when he was even home, either paid her no attention or was forcing himself upon her in whatever room they happened to be in with the smell of alcohol permeating the air.
Only her eighteen year old son, Michael, seemed to care and now he was packing up for freshman year at school. Michael was not blind to what was happening at home. He saw the pain his mother tried to hide from him and he had sympathy for her, despite not having the knowledge of how to solve the problem.
Lisa had mixed feelings about his future. Michael was a good-looking guy and would have no difficulty attracting female friends at a big school. She was happy for him. There was also jealousy in her heart. Michael was, in fact, the type of man she had always dreamed of having-handsome, smart, funny and caring.
When Lisa was his age, she had been all of those things, too. A petite blonde with a body to kill for, she fell in love too quickly with a high-spirited man five years older than herself and, at twenty, she had Michael. Her husband would have no part in raising the child and began his descent into a mere physical existence in the household. Lisa would not leave him for Michael's sake, although she now knew it would have been in both of their best interests if she had.
Now, Michael's adult life was about to begin and it depressed Lisa greatly. Little did she know it would shortly provide her with a new reason to live and love again.
The evening before Michael was to leave, Lisa was attempting to find anything at all to do to keep her mind off the next day or the fact he was in his room finishing his packing. The only good thing she could think of was the fact her husband wasn't around to exacerbate her despair.
After half an hour of aimless roaming from family room to kitchen to basement, Lisa finally headed up the steps and down the hallway to Michael's bedroom. She stood in the doorway looking at him for a moment before he even noticed.
"Oh, hi Mom. Almost done," he said over his shoulder.
"Make sure you forget a bunch of stuff so you need to come back," she replied.
"You know I will. And I expect you to visit as much as you can."
Lisa gazed at his bare chest and back. Michael's tanned skin accentuated his youthful muscles and his jogging shorts highlighted his long, powerfully built legs. She had always been glad he didn't inherit her small frame.
"You might have to seek a restraining order to keep me away," Lisa told him as she entered the room.
She threw herself into an old, overstuffed chair Michael used more as a clothes hamper than a seat. He looked at her with compassion...and something else. Something approaching appeal. Michael could not deny that for a couple years he had noticed the beauty of his mother. As she did now, Lisa always wore casual shirts and shorts during the summer that emphasized her full breasts, slim waist and smooth legs.
He felt guilty about the attraction and never once seriously considered actually acting upon it. He just allowed himself to admire her and convince himself the girl he married would look like her.
Michael looked at his mother now, slouched in the chair with her shirt hugging her obviously braless breasts and her shorts inching up her silky thighs.
"I would never do that. If I did, how could I show you off to the guys in the dorm?" he asked with a grin.
"Is Brian going to be there tomorrow?" she said, referring to the future roommate Michael had been communicating with for several weeks.
"Yes. I can't wait to start hanging out with him. It sounds like he definitely will make the swim team, so that's cool."
Lisa was hearing him speak, but wasn't paying much attention. She was feeling herself slowly going insane from desperation. The only constant in her life—Michaels' mere presence in the house of gloom—was about to vanish. She sensed her own stability ready to go with him in just one day.
Lisa felt as if she was pulled out of the chair by a force; a force that drew her to Michael. She walked over to him as he zipped up the suitcase and set it on the floor at the end of the bed. He was saying something about the classes he was registered for.
As he turned, his mother was directly in front of him.
"Don't leave me, Michael," Lisa said with wide, tearful eyes and a voice he had never heard before. "Don't leave me all alone."
Michael was speechless, frozen in place as he looked down into her face. Simultaneously, they reached out for each other. They hugged and Lisa placed her face against her son's neck. He held her tighter.
"I'm not leaving you, Mom," he offered. "We'll still see a lot of each other. All the time."
She wouldn't cry. Not until he was gone. Lisa kissed the side of Michael's face and he turned to her. Their lips met briefly and innocently. But their hands were anything but innocent as they began to wander over each other's back. The awareness of having Michael's body touching her own and the feeling of his bare skin and muscles resulted in Lisa starting a new, more adoring kiss.
Their tongues met and Lisa pressed her body tighter against her son's. Her hands were at his waist, working their way down to his ass on the outside of his shorts. Michael was slipping both hands inside Lisa's shirt, working back up toward her shoulders as the kiss intensified.
Within seconds, Lisa felt the hardening of his cock as it was squeezed between them. One of her hands reached for it and her palm rubbed the material of his shorts against it. The kiss was ending and Lisa wrapped her fingers around her son's cock.
"Mom, no," Michael protested.
"Shhhh. Let me do this. Just this once, Michael."
His cock spoke for him as it grew thicker, longer, and harder. Lisa stroked it faster and, soon, it was rock hard.
"Touch me, Michael," she said quietly. "Wherever you want."
His hands were inside her shirt. Without taking them out, Michael brought them around to the front, just below her tits. She could sense his hesitation and squeezed his cock a little tighter as if to offer encouragement. He let his fingers touch the bottom of her breasts. Then more. And, finally, his palms were on her nipples.
His large hands nearly engulfed the breasts he had often had hints at when Lisa wore bathing suits or low-cut dresses. They were smaller than those of many of the girls he knew in school, but they were Lisa's and they were in his hands. He felt his cock throb with desire.
"Take my shirt off," Lisa told him.
She gazed into his face as Michael lifted the shirt over her head and tossed it onto the bed. His hands immediately returned to her tits and Lisa reached inside his shorts. The warm cock pulsed in her palm. Her nipples tingled with excitement as her son pulled on them and rolled them between his fingers.
He let go as she kneeled in front of him. Lisa pulled down Michael's shorts and took them off, staring in awe at the erection that was exposed. Slowly, she leaned in and kissed her son's cock and balls for a moment. Then her tongue and lips caressed them, but only lightly and only for a second. It was impossible for him to get any harder, she decided. It was time.
