I was a pretty normal kid growing up as the youngest son of four children, all boys. I played 3 sports very well in high school: football, hockey, and baseball, in a small town in New England. I had lots of girls interested in me, but I only had sexual relations with one girl in high school. She was my girlfriend from the middle of my junior year through all of my senior year. While attending different colleges, she dumped me in October of our freshman year for a rich kid she met while attending her Ivy League college.
Getting dumped was emotionally devastating. It shook my confidence to the core. I became very self-centered focusing only trying to fuck a girl every weekend. I needed validation. I didn't give a shit about anything else. Achieving sexual conquests became my top personal priority...I needed to fuck pretty girls to feel good about myself. I realized quickly I had something that a lot of girls wanted. I was good looking and I delivered sexual satisfaction.
As time wore on, I realized I needed sex but companionship too. I began to date one girl at a time, but I had no patience to stay with any girl for very long. They would eventually disappoint me. Thus, I'd end one relationship as nice as possible and soon begin another.
I came to the self-realization that I never really dealt with the deep emotional hurt from being dumped by a girl I truly loved. I came home from school one weekend totally depressed. I moped around until my mother demanded to know what was bothering me. I opened the floodgates of emotion confiding in her that when I got dumped, I have been hurting ever since. My Mom was very supportive. She told me she knew how hurt I was and she worried constantly about me. She knew I was hurting badly.
Thus began an open and trusting relationship with my Mom. She became a close confidant. In follow up talks, I boldly told her how I over compensated for the rejection with promiscuous behavior. My mother listened, consoled, but didn't judge. She made a concerted effort to build up my confidence. She told me how proud she was of me with my academic achievements, my athletic abilities, and how maturely I conducted myself around her adult friends and relatives. She told me she was selfishly proud that of her four sons, I was the one who most resembled her features and family traits, and that how handsome I was. Whenever we had our confidential chats, she always hugged me, and told me she loved me.
My mother, Nora, was in great physical shape. She would often say she had good Scots Irish genes to thank for her youthful appearance. She was 46 years old, 5 feet 4 inches tall and weighed about 130 pounds. She was very a pretty woman with dark brown hair, bluish green eyes, 34C-sized breasts, a thin waist, and a nice full shapely ass.
Up until that summer when I was 20 years old, we enjoyed a pretty "normal" mother-son relationship. She was a good mother when I was growing up, doting at times, a friend at others, but strong willed and always willing to give good worldly advice.
I always thought in my mind that my mother was pretty. She wore sexy clothes and bathing suits that other mothers of my friends didn't or couldn't wear...she had a very nice body. I recall friends coming to my house and being smitten by my Mom. She had a way of making guys feel like he was her sole attention.
One night I was getting ready to go out. I had just taken a shower and had a towel wrapped around my waist when a girl I was dating called me. My mother yelled up, "It's Cheryl". The closest phone was in my parent's bedroom so I took the call there. I sat on their bed facing my mother's bureau, which had a mirror on top.
While chatting with Cheryl, a pretty and voluptuous girl I was going to meet that night, I got a semi hard-on thinking about her body. I unwrapped my towel to admire my chubby. As I was talking to Cheryl on the phone, I didn't hear my mother coming up the stairs. My mother walked in unaware, but immediately saw my reflection in her mirror of my naked body with my fat cock lying on my thigh.
My mother let out a gasp saying, "Oh Brent" as she stared at my cock in the mirror for a long time before she left the room. I did not intend for her to see me like that. I didn't react fast enough to cover myself because I was focused on my conversation with Cheryl. It wasn't until after I finished the telephone call that it sunk in completely. My mother had just seen me naked with a semi erection.
Within days after that episode, my mother changed. Whenever we were home alone, she began an increasing pattern of subtly exposing herself to me. All of a sudden she began wearing very shear and clingy nightgowns around me, which barely hid her naked body underneath.
When she came home from work, she would frequently call out me to "help" her unzip her dress. As soon as I pulled the zipper down, she would let her dress fall to the floor and step out of it in front of me while wearing her high-heeled shoes, pantyhose, and bra. She looked very sexy. Then she would turn to me with a smile and say, "thanks honey", and give me a peck on the lips.
The sexual tension increased unabated because my father worked nights and weekends. My older brothers had long since moved away after college. So when I came on weekends, which was often on Thursday nights, we were alone in the house for long stretches of time.
A devilish routine had developed between us. Often when I came home from my part time job, out with my friends, or from a date, my mother would call me to the stairs leading to her bedroom to talk to me about how my night went. She would stand at the top of the stairs with me looking up at her wearing a very shear nightgown. The light from her bedroom would shine through her gown and give me wonderful silhouette views of her ass, tits, and pussy. She could for all intents and purposes have been naked. I enjoyed it immensely from the very first time. I looked forward in hopes of seeing her every time I came home.
I would babble on just to keep her there flashing me. It was a mutually gratifying sexual tease. When we ended the titillating conversation, I always waited for my mother to retreat first so I could get one last view of her ass when she turned away. I always ended those nights masturbating about her...whether I fucked a girl earlier or not.
One evening, just after dinner, I walked upstairs to change clothes for the night. Walking down the hall, my mother came out of the bathroom naked. She was holding a towel against her chest with her right tit flopping out and her bare hips fully exposed. She stopped in front of me for a few seconds and said, "Oops, sorry honey, I thought you were down stairs", she smiled looking right in my eyes feigning embarrassment, but she made no effort whatsoever to cover herself as she walked to her bedroom. I turned as she passed me getting a heart stopping view of her bare ass when she passed.
Another time, my parents had company over the house. The older adults were having a good time consuming lots of alcohol. After their guests left, my father fell asleep on the couch watching television. I remember my mother had quite a buzz as she slurred her words when she said good night while giving me a wet sloppy kiss on the lips.
A few minutes later I went up stairs to go to bed. When I got to the top of the stairs, I looked in my mother's room. She was sitting on the end of her bed in her just her loose fitting panties and her form-fitting bra. Her panties were a thin material with a lacey like window in front, which showed her dark haired pubic mound underneath. The crotch of her panties was off to one side with pubes sticking out.
She looked at me obviously drunk and said while slurring, "Can you unhook this for me honey...I'm having a little trouble" So without saying anything, I walked in and stood behind her. I used two hands to gently unclasp her bra, being careful not to let it snap open. My mother stood up and turned to face me. Her bra now was just sort of hanging on her 34C breasts. She then wiggled her shoulders with her tits wagging making her bra fall to the floor. My very tipsy mother then said, "Ah that's feels better, I couldn't wait to take that damn thing off".
My topless mother stood in front of me while unstably swaying in her intoxicated state. Her bare tits were stunning. As I took in the view of my beautiful mother, I drew up mental images of all the girl's tits I had seen, felt, and played with since I was 13.
My mother's breasts were quite beautiful. For a 46-year-old woman who had given birth to four children, her tits were amazingly youthful looking. Her right tit tilted a bit to the right, and her left tit hung straight. There was a slight sag to both, but still very perky.
She had very full and shapely 34C's. Her breasts sloped upward, with half dollar sized light brown areola. Her nipples were slightly darker and about one half inch thick...and at the moment she had half-inch long erect nipples sticking out.
My mother with slurred speech asked me, "So do I look as good as all the girlfriends you've had...or am I old looking?" as she cupped her breasts with her hands as if to display them to me. "Mom", I said, "You know you are beautiful, and you are better looking than most women half your age. You are also very buzzed".
