PART I
My mother and I always had a good relationship. When I was a kid, she protected me from the "boogeyman," read night time stories to me, taught me right from wrong, and made sure I did my homework,
My dad left us when I was six and mom took on his duties, too. She taught me how to play baseball, took me to see games in person and even took me fishing. She remarried when I was ten. Her new husband Sam, was a nice guy and he treated me well but my mother remained the main figure in my life.
She was, outwardly at least, an average soccer mom right down to driving a mini-van. She got me involved with little league baseball, pee wee footfall and soccer, driving me to all the games and cheering from the stands..
There was nothing fancy or pretentious about her. She liked meatloaf with ketchup, hamburgers with mustard and pizza with sausage and mushrooms. Her favorite drink was diet coke. She liked to wear tight tops, snug levis, short skirts and high heels, as well as running suits and athletic shoes.
When I was in high school, mom allowed me a certain amount of independence but still kept me on the straight and narrow. We argued a lot about my curfew, things I did and did not do and who I hung out with. I loved her but she could be a royal pain in the ass.
As I got older, our relationship changed. When I was in grade school, we were mother/son. During high school, our relationship was more like brother and bossy sister. After I graduated from high school, we became friends. Close friends. When I got home after my first year of college, our relationship moved up to a new level.
For as long as I could remember, my mother was my favorite sexual fantasy. I spent many hours jerking off as I thought about her body and wondered what it would be like to have sex with her. Even after I got a regular girlfriend I continued to dream about my mother. But I never seriously expected anything to happen between us...until...
PART II
I came downstairs for breakfast at a little past ten. Sam had already left for work. My mother was sitting at the breakfast counter, reading a book.
She was wearing a lemon yellow halter with spaghetti straps, hunter green shorts, very tight, very short shorts, and four inch high, wedgie soled sandals. "Morning, mom," I said as I took a box of cereal, and a bowl, from the cabinet.
"Morning, honey," she responded, "How did you sleep?"
"Great," I told her as I grabbed a pitcher of milk from the fridge. I carried my breakfast to the nook and set everything down. I leaned toward my mother to kiss her cheek and was suddenly turned on by the fresh citrus odor of her perfume.
"Wow!" I said, "you smell wonderful."
"Thank you, sweetheart," she said as I sat down, hoping my mother did not notice my sudden erection.
I poured cereal into a bowl, then milk, and began eating.
"This book I'm reading," my mother said, "is about a woman named Fiona. Her best friend, Rebecca, is sexually involved with her son. Not Fiona's son—her own son." I looked up surprised. I wondered if she had any idea how often I thought about fucking her.. "Do you think that really happens?"
"Uh, well-I don't know," I said.
"Don't tell me you and your buddies never talk about sex." mom said.
I got up and got the coffee. I filled her cup then my own. "If you really want to know," I said, "there are three guys at school who claim to have screwed the mothers. There's also a girl who says she sleeps with both her parents. Sometimes with her mother, sometimes with her father and sometimes both together. I think it goes on a lot."
"Did you know that your cousin, Jeremy, is fucking your Aunt Jessica?" my mom asked. There was no shock or surprise in my mother's voice. She might have been asking what the time was.
"He's one of the guys who talks about screwing his mother," I told her, "How do you know about it?"
"Jessica is my sister," my mother reminded me, "She told me."
III
I spent the afternoon at a buddy's house, watching the baseball game on television. It was a little past five when I got home.
As I passed my mother's bedroom, on the way to my own room, I saw that her door was open. The master bedroom was large and airy. Sunlight poured into the room through the glass door that opened onto the balcony. Three walls were painted gold. The king sized bed, covered by a dark blue spread, was set against the fourth wall which was painted purple. The carpet was beige and the furniture, a dresser and matching chest of drawers, was mahogany. A small, white, two cushion couch stood in front of the french door.
The door to the master bathroom was also open and I could hear my mother voice, singing to herself. "Hey, mom," I called from the bedroom door, "I'm home."
"Hi, honey," she called back, "How was your day?"
"Great," I told her, "how about you?"
"It was fine," my mother said, "I sunbathe for a while and did some gardening." As she spoke, I tried to imagine how she was dressed. I wondered if she was wearing her black, string bikini or the halter and shorts she had been wearing that morning. "Why don't you come in here so I can talk to you?"
I crossed the bedroom to the bathroom door. The sight that greeted me stopped me cold and made my knees weak.
The bathroom was a large room, as large as most bedrooms. At one end stood a massage table, under a sun lamp. My mother was sitting on the edge of the table, her arms at her sides, her legs dangling in front of her. She sat there, completely relaxed and completely naked.
I was both embarrassed and aroused. My eyes were wide, my mouth was open and my cock was pushing out the front of my pants. I knew I shouldn't be staring at her but I could not help myself. Fully dressed she was hot. Naked she was unbelievable.
My mother was not quite forty. She was five feet, four inches tall and weighed a hundred and twelve pounds. Her hair was dark and it hung down to her shoulder blades, framing the large, gray eyes, small nose and sensual lips of her beautiful face.
Her body was small and slender but her breasts were large and full. They hung on her chest like silken sacks filled with honey. Her complexion was dark olive and her quarter sized brown nipples were a little darker. She had flared hips, a heart shaped ass and muscular, shapely legs. Her skin was tight and smooth.
"Hi, sweetheart," she said, smiling widely. "Come in and talk to me."
I wanted to say something but nothing came out.
"What's wrong?" my mother asked.
"You don't have any clothes on," I told her.
"I know," she said, flashing her unshaven pussy at me as she slipped off the table, "I'm not the first naked woman you've ever seen, am I?"
"No, but..."
"I'm really glad you're here," she said, "I've been thinking about you."
"You have?" I asked, "About me?"
"Actually, it's more like I've been fantasizing about you," my mother said, "You know...about your dick." As she spoke, she moved one hand down between her legs and slid the middle finger between the hairy lips of her pussy. "The story I'm reading got me thinking about incest."
I felt on fire. My cock was so hard it hurt. My mind was spinning and my mouth was dry. My eyes were fixed on my mother's fingers touching herself.
"What!" my mother said, " Haven't you ever played with yourself?"
"No," I said, "I mean yes but..."
As I stammered, my mother moved closer to me. She raised up on her tip toes and pressing her body against me, kissed me on the lips. As we kissed, her hands went to work opening my pants. "I talked to Aunt Jessica and I told her I could not stop thinking about having sex with you," she told me, "Jessica said I should try it."
"What do you mean?" I asked, nervously.
"I'm going to give you a hand-job." she said, pushing my pants down around my knees.
"But you're my mother." I reminded her.
"I know," she said, kissing me again. The fresh citrus odor of her perfume made the small of my back tingle. "That makes it even better." The tip of her tongue brushed over my lips as she thrust her hand into the front of my shorts and closed her fingers around my already very hard cock.
Any other objections or questions flew out of my head as my mother's small, warm hand slid up and down the length of my erection. "Do you like what I'm doing " she asked, looking up at me with a smile.
