Scent Of A Mommy

The Usual Disclaimer: This is a work of fantasy. All characters featured in sexual situations are over 18. The characters in these stories are fictional. Any resemblance to actual persons living, dead or undead is purely coincidental. Do not try this at home.

I served on board the

USS Independence

in the early 1990's. We spent several long months in the Gulf of Oman and the Persian Gulf. At the time, the entire crew was male, as was the case for all warships. However, we served as the flagship for Admiral for a time. He had a Petty Officer Second Class on his staff that was female. I became aware of this fact one day when I was walking aft on the second deck toward my berthing, when an odd scent caught my attention.

I stopped and sniffed the air, trying to figure out what that was. Only then did I notice the distinctly female curves filling out the dungarees of the passing crew member. I looked up and down the length of that passageway, and there were dozens of guys looking confused and sniffing the air as I had been. That memory formed the basis for this story.

*****

I was finally on my way home from my third and final deployment to Afghanistan when I got the news that my father had passed away. I had waited until we landed in Germany, and I had my flight information, before I contacted my mom via Skype to let her know when to expect me.

"Did you get my latest letter?" she asked.

I grinned and held up the packet of mail I had just received the day before. "They just gave me all my mail from the past four months," I replied. "I haven't had a chance to read any of it yet."

Her face dropped, and I could see her gulp. I was immediately alarmed. "Why?" I asked. "What happened?"

"Your father died last month," she said softly. "The funeral was two days later, on the fifth."

I collapsed back into the chair at the communications center. My dad was in his early fifties. I had planned to contact him or his new wife next. I was pretty sure how he had died, but I asked anyway out of reflex. Dad had been a long-haul trucker as long as I could remember. The prolonged absences were a fact of life for me and my sister growing up. Eventually, my parents got divorced. They had waited until Theresa graduated high school before splitting up, and by then I was in the service and overseas.

"His truck jackknifed and got nailed by two other semis," Mom said sadly, shaking her head. "The doctors said he was killed instantly, when the spare fuel tank exploded."

Dad had been in a couple of bad accidents before, but he had come out unscathed. I was exhausted and was really struggling to process it. My mother's face teared up on the screen.

"I'm so sorry, Paul," she said, "I could have waited to tell you..."

I waved at the screen. "It's okay, Mom, really," I said. "I was going to call Dad or Barbara as soon as I finished talking to you. I'm glad you were the one to tell me. I just haven't slept much in the past week, so I'm a little slow right now."

I was a little surprised that no one had notified me while we were still out in the field, but we had been in the middle of nowhere. I was still adjusting to being back in the civilized world. Much of what my unit did was highly classified, and we were always on high alert. I wasn't used to talking, and realized with a start that my mother had continued talking to me. I had missed most of it. I shook my head in annoyance.

"Sorry, Mom," I said softly, "I lost track of that. What were you saying about Theresa?"

She smiled sadly out of the screen. This was not the first time she had seen me this out of sorts following a deployment. "It can wait until you get home," she said. "Try to get some sleep."

"Yes, ma'am," I replied. "I love you, Mom. I can't wait to see you."

"I love you too," she said. "Be safe, son."

"I will."

I decided to wait until I was home to call Barbara—my dad's new wife of three years, and now his widow. There was no sense of urgency with Dad gone, and I was too exhausted to deal with what would no doubt be an emotional exchange. I managed to get some sleep before my MAC flight to the states. The cargo plane was uncomfortable, but we all zonked out anyway. By the time we arrived at Fort Bragg, the guys in my unit were at least somewhat rested.

It took two days to complete the paperwork ending my enlistment. As usual, there was the mandatory day spent in an Army hospital, with a dozen blood samples taken and another handful of shots. I had been through it enough that I barely paid attention anymore. I was given a clean bill of health, a separation check, and an official-looking certificate suitable for framing saying that I was honorably discharged.

It felt strange to put on my civilian clothes to board the flight home. After four months in the hinterlands of Afghanistan, my nose practically twitched whenever a woman came within range. Even faint feminine smells like shampoo, deodorant, and light perfume hit me like a hammer. I had to fight for control so that I wouldn't be sporting a boner like some adolescent school kid.

Once again, I fell asleep on an airplane. I was awakened by a stewardess gently shaking my shoulder. My eyes shot open at the unfamiliar contact, and my nostrils flared at the marvelous smell of this woman leaning over me. It took me only a second to realize where I was, and I softly thanked her for waking me. I retrieved my travel bag from beneath the seat in front of me, and held it in front of me as I walked off of the plane. By the time I reached baggage claim, I had regained control over the erection that I had been concealing behind that little backpack.

My mother caught me by surprise when she wrapped her arms around me from behind and to my left. I felt guilty, savoring the feel of her soft breasts pressed against my back and side. Her familiar shampoo and faint perfume stirred a deep emotional response in me. A tear formed in the corner of my eye when that smell confirmed that I was home.

I turned and hugged my mother tightly. She shook in my arms, unashamed as she cried in her son's embrace in that airport. A lump formed in my throat, and I rocked her gently from side to side as I held her there. I could not help but take notice of the people around us. Most of them saw my military haircut and nodded in understanding. One woman, though, had a very strange look on her face. It took me a while to figure out that she was turned on watching us embrace like that.

My duffel bags eventually made their way down the carousel and I collected them. I slung the backpack onto my shoulder and carried the large green bags as I followed my mother out to her car. It was a warm early summer evening. There was something familiar about the smells carried on the breeze, and the welcome humidity that reinforced that feeling of being home. I had to smile when I realized what I was feeling.

At eighteen, I could not get out of this town fast enough. After six years of playing the hero in the Army, I could scarcely believe I had survived to get back to this place. Once again a lump formed in my throat as I recalled some

real

heroes—good friends that had given up their lives in the service of our country. I knew that it wasn't healthy for me to dwell on it, but I gave my departed brothers a silent thank-you anyway.

The drive from the airport to the house reminded me just how long I had been gone. There were several new housing developments in what used to be farmland and open prairie. The airport used to be several miles from anything, but now there were restaurants and other businesses all along the highway. I shook my head and smiled as I looked at them.

"What are you thinking?" Mom asked from the driver's seat.

"Oh, I was just looking at all these new houses and restaurants and thinking how long I've been gone," I replied. I turned and looked at my mother, still smiling. "You look exactly the way I remember, though," I said.

It wasn't a lie. Mom still looked like the hot housewife that all my junior high buddies had fantasized about. She had been a few years younger than my dad, but she had always been attractive. She had also been attentive and caring when Dad had been gone for weeks at a time. She beamed at me, taking my statement as a compliment. That magnificent smile just melted me, the way it always had.

"It's so good to have you back, Paul," she said. She reached over and softly squeezed my knee. It was a fleeting touch, but I was embarrassed at my reaction to it.

Damn, dude,

I thought to myself,

you really need to get laid, and soon. You are getting way too turned on by your own mom.

When we pulled up at the house, it seemed smaller than I remembered. I snorted at the thought; I had been home on leave last Christmas, and again for two weeks before we had deployed. Compared to the little mountain shacks that constituted most of those remote Afghan villages, this house was a veritable mansion. Still, I had spent my life growing up in this house and it had always seemed larger in my mind than it was in real life anymore.

I grabbed my duffel bags out of the back seat and turned to follow my mom to the front door. Her ample bottom looked really good in the snug leggings she wore. When I realized that I could not see a panty line—and that I was staring hard at my mother's ass looking for a panty line—I snapped my eyes back up to her hair.

Mom has slightly curly dishwater-blonde hair. She always has that natural, slightly-mussed look that I have seen other women work for hours to attain. My mom just had it. She would get out of the shower and run a brush through her hair briefly, and then she had that look. She turned and smiled at me, then bent slightly in front of me to unlock the door.

I could not help it. My eyes wandered down to her ass again. There was not much light on her backside, but I was pretty sure on that second inspection that she was not wearing anything under the dark leggings. I caught a faint but unmistakable whiff of that distinctly feminine smell that had eluded me for months. My knees felt weak for a moment, and I carefully blew out a long breath.

I had really missed the smell of pussy. It was a shame that the first one I got a whiff of here was my mom's. By the time I got my bags stowed in the guest bedroom, I realized I had been salivating. The other three senior NCOs in my unit were all married. I had to imagine they had their faces buried in pussy by now. Well, except for Kyle. He had always protested that he couldn't stand the idea of licking a woman's juicy sex. He was probably balls-deep in his wife before I even got on my plane.

I shook my head and snorted to clear those thoughts from my head.

"What's wrong?" my mother asked from the doorway.

I turned and gave her a grin. I couldn't very well tell her that the smell of her pussy had me aroused and thinking about sex, but I did my best to tell her the truth.

"I was just thinking about something one of my buddies said before we left Bragg," I said. "It was pretty crude. Let's just say his wife probably has her hands full dealing with him right now."

That was probably not the best choice of words. I could see from my mother's expression and the way that she blushed that she could visualize a woman with her hands full of a man's eager boner. I don't know why, but I felt the need to make it worse.

"Well, maybe not her hands, exactly..." I said.

"Paul!" she gasped, "that's enough." Her blush deepened. Clearly her head was as full of sexual imagery as mine had been.

"Sorry," I said softly. I realized that I was probably not the only one who had been without sex for a while. As far as I knew, Mom hadn't been dating recently.

I sorted through my bags and put my civilian clothes into the dresser or hung them in the closet. That left a full bag of uniforms that I plopped onto the floor of the closet. It was warm, so I selected shorts and a shirt. I took a long, hot shower that helped to clear my mind and calm my arousal. As I got dressed, I couldn't help but look around the guest room once again. When we had been younger, this had been Theresa's room.

After I had left, my old room got turned into a home office, and my dad moved a weight bench in there as well. Theresa's bedroom got a lighter makeover after she went away to college, and now served as the guest room when either of us visited. I think my Aunt Tammy—Mom's sister—had stayed in this room a couple of times.

Back when we were kids, though, I remember my sister calling me into her room to hold her after a bad dream, or when a fierce thunderstorm had her shaking. Even then, I had been strong for her when she needed me to be.

I finished getting dressed and emerged feeling refreshed. Mom had apparently taken the opportunity to shower at the same time. Her hair was still damp, and she was dressed in a sexy little outfit that made me gulp. I had never seen her so scantily clad in my life. She wore a very thin gown that only came to mid-thigh. That wispy garment made it obvious that she wore skimpy bikini panties and no bra.

"I thought we might go out for dinner," I said, looking her over, "but I guess we're staying in."

"Sorry," she said with a shrug. "I didn't really want to go out again, and I was looking forward to having you home to share dinner with me. I can change if you really want to go out."

I could tell she didn't really want to do that. As I thought about it, I realized that I really didn't feel the need to go out either. I gave her another smile.

"Staying in for dinner with you sounds perfect," I said. I tried not to think about it as her nipples hardened visibly.

Over the course of the evening, though, they were impossible to ignore. My mother does not have huge breasts, but they are just perfect and they were practically on display beneath that gown. My dick did not care that it was my mother. I had a rampant erection the entire time I was around her until it was time to turn in. Oh, we had some nice conversations over dinner and afterward over a bottle of wine. I just couldn't tell you what we discussed when I slid into bed that night.

Well, there were two things that I did recall. One was that Theresa and her boyfriend were thinking about getting engaged. That wasn't really surprising; they had been living together for over a year. The other was that Mom had called Barbara to let her know that we would probably come to visit and pay our respects to Dad. I seized on that to distract my thoughts as I lay in bed.

I thought about memories of my father through the years. He was a big, rugged guy my whole life. I smiled when I thought about him stepping out of his rig with a massive grin splitting that gnarly beard of his. Theresa and I would shriek and try to get away before he kissed us on our cheeks with that scratchy beard. He always caught us, though. Dad was really fun when he was around. He had a gift for telling stories and making us feel like we had been there.

I felt a chill when it hit me that he was gone. I let it wash over me then, as I lay in that bed, and let the emotion work its way out of my body. I wept, and my body was wracked by sobs as I recalled all those moments with my father over the years. I had looked forward to another visit with him and Barbara. Hell, I had expected to have many such visits over the years now that I was back in the world. It felt like something precious had been taken away from me that I was only beginning to appreciate.

A soft knock at the door snapped me out of the moment.

"Come in," I managed hoarsely.

"Are you okay?" my mother's soft voice came through the door. I was a little embarrassed to realize that she heard me.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said.

She pushed the bedroom door open. The light streaming in from the hallway backlit her body, and it was just a little too revealing the way that it cut right through her gown. It was as if she was only wearing those skimpy panties as she stood in the doorway. Her face was hidden in shadow, but her hair was lit like a halo and the curves of her body had my cock throbbing beneath the sheet.

She sashayed over to the bed and leaned over to plant a kiss on my forehead. I swear one of her hard nipples actually brushed my shoulder when she did that. I could scarcely breathe, but when I did my senses were assaulted by the scent of her no doubt juicy pussy.

"It's okay," she whispered. "I miss him too. I'm just glad I have you back now, Paul."

I scooted over, and she slid into the bed with me. I still wore my shorts, but I am sure she felt my erection when she cuddled up against me in the bed. Despite my horny state, the familiar smell of my mother's shampoo and her faint perfume once again lulled me into that feeling of security. I fell asleep with her in my arms within minutes.

She was gone when I woke up the next morning. I had to get up to relieve my bladder, and then I went right back to bed. I slept for another couple of hours before I once again woke up. This time, I knew that I had been having a very erotic, explicit dream. My erection demanded attention, and I pushed the sheet out of the way, pushed my shorts down my legs and began to stroke it. It only took a couple of minutes before I was at the point of no return.

I heard my mother gasp from the hallway, and whipped my head to look over at the open doorway as my cock erupted. I shot several ropes of cum up onto my chest and belly. My mother's eyes were locked onto my dick as it spewed its load. She looked incredible as she stood there, panting in obvious arousal. I finally managed to shield my spent cock from her gaze and then her eyes met mine.

"Sorry, Mom," I panted, "I should have closed the door."

She just shook her head, which of course made her hard nipples shimmy from side to side in that translucent gown. "It's okay," she said, swallowing before she went on, "I should have just...It's okay. Don't worry about it."

She didn't even bother to close the door as she walked unsteadily away down the hall. I snagged my discarded t-shirt from the previous day and wiped off my torso, cursing myself silently for being so careless. I stopped and held still for a moment when I heard her voice faintly float in from down the hall. I started to stand, and then realized she was moaning.

My mother was getting herself off, and I could only imagine she was picturing my erupting cock as she did it. I felt awfully dirty, but it turned me on. I shook my head once again. I needed to be much more careful around my mother. It wasn't fair for me to tease her, and it wasn't helping me either. Here I had just had a massive orgasm, and I was already rock hard once again. Worse, I was thinking about my mother and getting this hard. That just would not do.

We had a late brunch after we both had a chance to calm down. Neither of us mentioned what had happened earlier. I was content to act as if it had never happened, and it appeared she felt the same way. I tried to remember my table manners while eating. It wasn't something that we had time to worry about when I had been in Afghanistan. We all tended to wolf down our meals quickly, and spent more time carefully disposing of the packaging and cleaning up our campsite than we did eating.

We were supposed to be ghosts, and ghosts don't leave wrappers and stuff behind.

Now, I was focused on being a civilized man again. I carefully kept my elbows off the table and cut my food into small bites, but it took a fair amount of my attention to do it consistently. This was not the first time I had come back from overseas and had to work not to be a savage, and Mom smiled as she watched me. After swallowing a bite, I smiled back. That earned me another delectable whiff of her and I was hard instantly.

"I need to work on my car today," I said, grasping for a distraction. "Have you taken a look at it since I left?"