Quarantined With My Mother

I was less than thrilled when the university announced they were closing the dorms and that we would be finishing the semester online. I got it. COVID-19 is dangerous, and no one wants to be at unnecessary risk. Still, I was having a great time living on campus and didn't want to trade my cramped dorm room for my room at my father's house. He has a great house—it even has a pool—but I wanted to be with my friends and my girlfriend, not my dad, his new wife, and their new baby. I get along with Kayleigh okay—probably because she's closer to my age than my dad's—but that's not the point. The state was under a stay-at-home order and I'd be trapped there with them. Dad's house isn't that big.

Not gonna lie. Missing my girlfriend was a huge part of my disappointment. I saw Amber every day, and spent most nights with her, too. God, I was going to miss those nights. And not just the nights. There were the afternoon quickies between classes, the blowjobs in the stacks at the library, sliding my hand up her skirt in the bar just off campus. Okay, I'm a pretty kinky guy, and Amber has a body that just won't quit. She's tall, with a thick, athletic build and long brown hair. I swear, I think about her all the time, and so I'm horny all the time. Amber promised me that Facetime sex would be fun, but my hand was no replacement for that body of hers.

The second blow came when my dad told me Amber tested positive for COVID-19 and I wouldn't be able to come stay with them. He wasn't showing symptoms, but it meant I would have to go stay at my mother's. Her townhouse is substantially smaller than Dad's place. My room there is almost as cramped as my dorm room. I hadn't lived with my mother since I graduated high school. My summers between semesters were spent at my father's. I felt bad about abandoning my mother sometimes, but Dad's place was just nicer. Besides, Dad lets me pretty much do what I want, while Mom is kind of uptight. Mom took the slight well, but she constantly asked me to visit. I felt weird calling Mom and asking if I could stay with her. We both knew it wasn't my first choice, but because Dad's was off limits, but she was thrilled. I only had 3 days to be out of the dorm and she jumped right in the car to make the 4-hour drive to my campus.

Mom arrived on campus full of surprises. The first was that the old, reliable minivan was gone, replaced by a sleek convertible Mustang. I had a lot of good times in that minivan, from packing in there with my little league team to Friday nights hooking up with dates in the back once I got my license. I was wistful that it was gone. The other surprise was that Mom had a new look. She was always very pretty, and I know a couple of my friends had crushes. That never bothered me. To each his own. But Mom was always very mom-like. Lots of khakis and sweater sets that camouflaged the extra few pounds she'd picked up over the years. A sensible, I-want-to-see-your-manager hairdo. The Mom who jumped out of the Mustang was fit and showed it off with a tight t-shirt and jeans that hugged her butt. Mom still had curves, but they were tighter than I remembered—not that I looked at my mother that way. I mostly noticed because the guys milling around the dorm—also moving out—were looking at my mother like a piece of meat. They weren't guys with harmless schoolboy crushes like my friends back home, they were looking at Mom like she was a MILF. It was strange, and I don't know what to make of it. Mom had no shortage of offers to help her carry my boxes, and it annoyed me. Finally, the suburban mom haircut was replaced by longer, loose blonde curls. Mom used to hate her curls and always blew her hair straight.

"Thanks, Wyatt," Mom said, taking the last box from the arms of a big, buff member of the basketball team who'd never said 2 words to me before.

"No problem, Mrs. McClusky," he said, grinning like an idiot. He couldn't quite keep his eyes off Mom's tits while he stood in front of her. She didn't seem to notice, but I did. It was like I wasn't even standing there.

"I told you, call me Carol. My mother is Mrs. McClusky."

"Okay, Carol. It was great meeting you. Hope to see you around campus again when everything gets back to normal."

"Yeah, Mom doesn't get up here too often, but thanks, dude," I said, moving between my mother and the athlete.

"See you later, Wyatt," she said. If I didn't know better, I'd have sworn she was checking out his butt as he left. "I think this everything. I hope it is, anyway."

The Mustang was packed to the gills and I have no idea how Mom crammed that last box into the backseat. She was a logistical genius. While Mom was pushing the box into the car, a passing freshman slowed down to admire her round ass and I shot him a dirty look that said, Move it along.

"I think we're ready to hit the road, honey," Mom said.

"Yeah, let's get out of here," I said, suddenly relieved to be off campus. Amber had left the day before. I had nothing keeping me there.

I jumped into the passenger seat, pillows and bedding piled on my lap, while Mom slid into the other side. The sleek blue sports car rumbled to life and Mom eased it away from the curbside. She may have bought a sportscar, but she still drove it like the same old Mom I knew.

"You haven't said anything about the car, Zack," Mom said, as we left the campus behind.

"It's nice. I'm shocked, I guess. It's hard to picture you in anything but our minivan."

"You would have known the minivan was gone if you came home more. It wasn't our minivan anymore. It was mine with you grown and away at college and your father gone. I didn't have any need for that big old thing anymore. No more baseball teams to haul around anymore, right?"

"I guess. I just didn't picture you as a sportscar type."

"I wanted something fun. Is there something wrong with that? I'm not just your mother, you know, honey."

"I know," I replied, although that was pretty much exactly how I thought of her. "Is this your midlife crisis car?"

"Haha. Very funny, young man. You still have the smart mouth, I see. I am not having a midlife crisis. Besides, I'm far too young for that."

My mother was 46, exactly the right age for a midlife crisis, although I honestly didn't know if that was a woman thing or not. Not that she looked it. I bet she could pass for 10 years younger with her new look. Dad certainly had a midlife crisis. He left his family for a much younger physical therapist from work. My stepmom Kayleigh is like 30 or something, a couple decades younger than my mother. I know that stung when it all went down. If Mom was having a midlife crisis, it was understandable.

"It's a shame I missed Amber," Mom said.

"Her parents got her yesterday. Her mom is pretty freaked out about this coronavirus thing."

"Rightly so. I was happy to get you out of there. You should see all the new protocols we're putting in place at work."

"Are you still going in, Mom?"

"For now, but I think I'm going to start working from home soon. It doesn't make sense to go in if I don't have to. At least we'll have plenty of time to catch up."

"Great," I replied, rolling my eyes.

Mom only allowed her hurt feelings to show for a second. "You don't always have to be so rotten, Zach."

"Sorry, Mom. It really is good to see you. Honestly."

"Thanks, honey. I'm glad you're finally coming home." She patted my hand and gunned it onto the highway.

It was nice to see my mother. I realized now how much I missed her. I just wondered if I would still feel the same after a couple weeks of being quarantined with her.

*

Six weeks later, I was over missing my mother. What I missed at that point was my freedom. And Amber. God, did I miss Amber. I beat off in the shower almost every day, but Amber's promise of regular Facetime sex proved...problematic.

The problem was that my mother was always home. As she predicted, she started working from home about a week after I arrived. It was great, at first. Mom and I had a chance to really catch up and I began to see a different side of her. I liked this new, independent, single Mom. She had a great, positive energy. I also remembered how great her home cooking was. Mom was so happy I was home, she even did my laundry, something she forced me to do myself the last couple years of high school. We fell into a routine where Mom would spend the day working at the kitchen table, while I played video games or watched TV in the other room. We had dinner together and then often watched something on Netflix or Hulu before retiring to our bedrooms. Bedrooms that were right next to each other.

I snuck upstairs for some Facetime sex with Amber during the day a couple times early on, and it was amazing. That girl really knew how to get my motor going. She propped up her phone and did a sexy striptease for me, peeling away her tank top and little shorts. She thrust her cute, toned ass at the camera, split by the line of her thong. I was hard before I even touched myself. And then came the good stuff.

"I miss you so much, baby. I almost forget what your hands feel like on me," she cooed at the phone, holding it out with one hand while she groped her big tits with the other. She was on her back on her bed, holding the camera up above her. She pulled on her nipples and moaned.

"You know I miss those titties," I groaned, pulling my cock out of my shorts.

"Yeah? What would you do with them, baby?"

"I, uh, I'd suck on them. I'd rub them," I stammered. Even I knew my answer was kind of lame. Amber was doing it so well, slipping into a low, sexy voice, but I just felt like a dork. I knew how to fuck, not do this.

"Mmm, I wish you were here to suck them, baby. I'm sooo lonely without you. Do you miss me too?"

"Oh yeah, Amb. I fucking need you!"

"Show me, baby. Show me how much you miss me."

I'm not stranger to dick pix, so I was fine flashing my dick to the camera. I stroked it as I showed it off to Amber, wanting to give the best possible showing.

"Mmm, I miss that. I need to feel you inside me. Get it good and hard for me, baby. Show me what you would give me if I was there."

I stroked my cock faster, trying to crane my neck at an angle where I could keep the phone pointed at my dick, but still see Amber on the phone. Her phone was still pointed at her tits and face, but her hand was gone. I wanted to see where it went.

"Are you touching it, Amb?"

"Mmmhmm," she moaned, nodding. "I'm pretending my fingers are your big dick. I need your big dick in me. If I was there, would you stick it in me, baby?"

"You know it, Amb! I'd fuck you so fucking hard!"

"Ahh...yeah... I need you to fuck me, baby. Fuck me hard!"

Amber's sexy moans went right through me. It felt like my whole body was tensing, focusing my energy in my balls. She wasn't going to have to do much more to get me to pop off. Amber finally tilted the phone down and showed me her pussy. She had three fingers pounding in and out of her smooth cunt. The phone picked up the sound of her pussy squishing around her fingers. My cock surged and I groaned.

"Fuck, Amb. That's hot. Oh fuck, Amb. That's fucking hot."

"Fuck me, baby. Fuck me with your big dick! Ahh...yeah! Yeah! I need you! Fuck me! Ahh...ahhh...yeah...yeah...YEAH!

I saw my girlfriend coming hundreds of miles away, and it was so hot I exploded. Cum arced up out of my dick and splattered down on my thighs. It was so intense I almost shouted. I nearly forgot my mother was downstairs. I remembered at the last second and turned my face into the pillow as I bellowed.

So yeah, Facetime sex with Amber was awesome. Not as good as fucking, but it was hot in a different way. Except for looking at porn on the internet, I'd never watched a girl do that before. And it was so much hotter when it was my girl. Funny, I'd never thought about Amber doing that, but I guess she's as horny as me and she can get herself off just like I can. I gradually became bolder over the next few sessions, and Amber excitedly did everything I asked. She was eager to take direction from me, and I found it hot to tell her what to do. I couldn't wait to see her again and try some of my new bossiness on her.

And then, about a month in, it suddenly wasn't so great. We were right in the middle of it one afternoon, me pumping my cock and Amber fucking herself with a hairbrush handle like I ordered her to do, when her father knocked and entered her bedroom with hardly a pause. Amber shrieked and twisted to face the wall, scrambling to pull the covers over her nude body. Her dad fumbled and withdrew. I have no idea what he saw or suspected, but the episode left Amber so paranoid that Facetime sex was off for at least a week. When she finally did want to try it again, it had to be at night when her parents were already in bed.

We started out okay, but then I could hear the TV in Mom's bedroom through wall. As I said, her townhouse is on the small side, and our bedrooms were smack up against each other on the second floor and the walls were thin. It sounded like Mom was watching the home shopping channel and she had it cranked really loud.

I tried to screen out the noise and continue on with Amber, but then it started getting into my head. I worried that if I could hear the TV so well, then Mom could hear me. I got quieter and quieter, until Amber complained she couldn't hear me. I tried to get her to do all the talking, but she kept prompting me to respond. I tried my damnedest, but I couldn't get out of my head I couldn't get over my mother being in the room right next to me. My dick began to slowly deflate.

Amber took it personally, even when I told her it wasn't her fault. I promised I'd make it up to her, but when we tried it again I had the same problem. Mom's TV wasn't turned up, but that just made me more paranoid. At least the TV might've hidden whatever sound I made. I just couldn't do it with my mother in the bedroom next to me. Amber wouldn't do it during the day. We were at an impasse. Just like that, I lost the one thing keeping me sane.

I blamed my mother, even though it wasn't really her fault. I desperately wanted her to get out of the house, even though there was nowhere for her to go. The walls started closing in on me. I took long walks during the day. I started snapping at Mom, even though it wasn't really her fault. We stopped hanging out together as much, even though we were trapped together in that small townhouse. And then everything changed again.

*

I was lying in bed feeling particularly guilty about how nasty I was to my mother that night. She was bright and cheerful during dinner, but I was sullen and withdrawn. She kept reaching out and I kept slapping her back. Mom hit the wine hard that night, probably because I was being such a dick. I realized I had to get over myself. It wasn't her fault I was going crazy from no sex. I owed Mom an apology.

I knew she was still up because I heard the TV blaring from her room. I rolled out of bed and walked the short distance to her bedroom door, but I paused before I knocked. Admitting I'm wrong has never been easy, and I had a sudden urge to retreat. I stood my ground and raised my hand to knock on her door, but a weird little sound stopped me dead. I swore that under the sound of the TV, I heard my mother moaning.

I had to be hallucinating. It couldn't be what I thought it was. I stopped breathing, straining to hear. The TV was very loud, and I couldn't be sure it was what I thought. I just about convinced myself I misheard it when there was a lull in the TV, and I heard it again. Heard it loud and clear this time. In that gap in the talking on the TV, I heard my mother moan loud and clear.

My head spun. I tried to tell myself she'd fallen asleep and she was dreaming, as unlikely as that was with the TV so loud. I kept straining, and I heard it again, and again. It was definitely my mother moaning, and they were moans of pleasure. I've been with enough girls to know what it sounds like when they're getting off. It was like heavy breathing, punctured by whimpers.

"Uhnn...uhnn...mmm...mmm...yeah...yeah...mmm...oooo...uhnn...uhnn..."

Yeah, that was my mother getting off right on the other side of that door. I should have run away and washed my ears out with bleach. I should have tried to think of baseball and flush it from my brain. But I didn't do any of those things. I stood there and listened. I stood there and listened to my mother getting off. I was mesmerized.

Mom didn't say many words, but her erotic utterances were intense. Whatever she was doing to herself, she was really enjoying it. It seemed like I stood there forever, but Mom must have been pretty close because it didn't take very long for her to finish. Mom let out one big, final cry. A musical laugh followed, and she was silent. I don't know why I kept standing there after that, maybe I thought she'd start up again. I heard another laugh, this one warm and earthy, and Mom told someone, "Goodnight." The TV went off.

Fear seized me when I realized I might get caught lurking outside Mom's door. What would I say? I scrambled back into my room, freezing on the other side of the door when I heard Mom's bedroom door open. I heard her go downstairs. My heart pounded in my chest and I was woozy. Clearly, I wasn't in my right mind, because rather than dive into bed and pretend I was asleep, I opened the door and dashed into the hallway.

Mom's bedroom door was open, and I scooted through it. The glow of a woman selling makeup on the TV was the only illumination in the room. It was enough light to see Mom's laptop sitting open on her bed and the long, thick, pink object beside it. I almost fell over when I realized I was staring at my mother's dildo. My mother had a huge sex toy! I stared at that thing like I could will it away. I was so entranced that I almost missed the sound of Mom coming back up the stairs. I dashed from the room and made it back to my own just in time. I hid just inside, with the door open just a crack and my eye pressed to the opening.

The hallway was dark, but Mom was positively glowing. She looked like she was floating down the hallway. She only wore a loose t-shirt, which almost covered her pussy. I couldn't make out any detail because it was dark, but I was sure my mother was not wearing panties. She also wasn't wearing a bra, based on how her tits bounced as she walked. Mom's tits aren't huge, but I bet they're a nice handful—not that I've thought about putting my hands on them. She turned into her bedroom and closed the door. I closed mine too and fell back onto my bed.

I finally had a moment to catch my breath and process what I'd witnessed, but that's not what I did. No, I pulled down my boxers and furiously wacked my dick. Somehow, I didn't realize that all that time my cock was rock hard. But I knew it now and I had to do something about it. The frustration of my failed Facetime sex with Amber crashed into the memory of the sexy sounds from my mother's room. I tried to focus on Amber, but Mom kept creeping in there. I didn't struggle long. I came in about 2 seconds. Afterward, I lay there, shell shocked.

*

I had a blissful moment when I first woke up and didn't remember anything about the night before. I stretched and blinked against the light pouring through the window and rolled over to see the time. And then it hit me. My mother was masturbating with a dildo last night and I hung outside the door and listened. It was too much, and I pulled the pillow over my head, trying to hide from the memory. It didn't work, of course. It was in my head, and I couldn't get it out.

I tried to sort thought it and figure which was more disturbing, my mother playing with herself, or me listening and then running back to my room to jerk off. Both things were out there, but I realized getting hard from listening to Mom like that was the weirdest part. Like I said about Amber, girls need to get off too. I didn't think of my own mother as a girl. She was a woman. She was my mother. But I guess the same rules applied to her. Why shouldn't Mom be like any other woman? I'd heard all about cougars and how women hit their sexual peak in their 40s. Ew, no. I did not want to think about my mother's sexual peak. But there it was again. Little Zack started to chub up again. No! I would not get hard thinking about my mother like that. I tried to think about baseball, but that only reminded me of my old friends who had a crush on Mom. I started wondering if they were right and I just couldn't see it. Was my mother hot? No, couldn't be. But then, Mom was not the same woman she was then. Objectively, Mom was hotter now than she was back then. No! My mom was not hot!