I've been smoking weed for a long time, since I was 13.
Amazingly, my parents never caught me. Guess that's because I've always been careful about it, hiding my bongs and pipes well, using Visine for my eyes and a dryer sheet filled tube for exhaling smoke, burning incense, really taking all the necessary precautions to avoid detection.
Contrary to what many might believe about stoners, I've gotten good grades in school and have stayed out of trouble.
While many of my peers are out drinking, going to football games, and getting into fights, most of my friends and I stay at whomever's house is parent-free, chill out and smoke up.
Though we don't get into much trouble, we don't often get too far with the ladies. Pretty much nobody in my clique of friends, a motley crew of nerds, artists and stoners, gets any. All the girls in our school are into the popular guys and jocks.
However, unlike most of my crew, I'm not a virgin, as the day after my eighteenth birthday I scored with this neighbor chick who wore too much makeup and had big tits and kind of a fat ass.
She was 21 and had just graduated from some boarding school for screwed up kids. We met over a cigarette at the bus stop and I had her over to my house a few times, where we got high and fucked.
Not long after we met, though, she disappeared, running off to California, and once she left most of my sexual desires have again been fulfilled by my hand.
Most of the time I jerk off it's to the thought of the popular, cheerleader type girls in my school, with their short jean skirts, black stockings and high heels, but every so often another female enters into my mind as I beat off, and it's not a girl, it's a woman. A real woman.
It's my Mom.
My Mom is a stone cold fox, standing about 5'6, with curly, dirty blond hair that falls below her shoulders. Her narrow facial structure and high cheekbones are typical of her Ukrainian heritage and her sparkly blue eyes hypnotize me every time I see them.
Aside from her beautiful face, she's got a smoking hot, hard body, especially her lower body, with that juicy, apple-shaped ass of hers and those succulent thighs.
Her upper body is pretty awesome, too. She's got a toned stomach and jiggly C-cup tits that still stand straight up, even at 40.
I've admired her beauty ever since I hit puberty, and she pops into my mind almost every time I jack off. I even thought of her the couple times I fucked the big-assed neighbor girl.
Sure, I feel a bit guilty and wrong about thinking of my Mom like that, but I think any teenage boy around a woman as beautiful as her would have the same thoughts.
Anyone who'd say differently would either be gay or a liar.
Never did I think things would move past mere fantasy and that I'd fuck her anywhere else but in my mind. However, certain circumstances presented themselves...
During my senior year of high school Dad got a promotion that required him to work in China part of the year.
As a result, Mom, who had recently lost her job, and I were home together a lot and started to spend much more time together, eating dinner and watching TV afterwards nearly every night.
I began to get to know Mom better during this time and found her to be far more easy-going and fun than I thought her to be.
We started to bond and become more like friends than mother and son and I thought of revealing my pot smoking secret to her.
I just couldn't bring myself to do it, though, fearing an angry reaction and her telling Dad about it.
However, late one drizzly Saturday night, I was pulling bong hits with my earphones on and Mom unexpectedly waltzed into my room, without knocking.
I was caught red-handed, or should I say green-handed, with a two foot bong full of smoke propped to my lips.
Mom's initial reaction was partly anger and partly shock.
"What are you doing?" She screamed, at witnessing my bong hit.
"Uh... Nothing..." I told her after exhaling a plume of smoke.
"Are you... Smoking pot?"
"Uh, I don't know..."
"You don't know?"
"Uh..."
"I know what pot smells like! And that smells like pot and looks like a bong you've got there!"
"Uh... Maybe..."
"How long has this been going on?"
"For a few years."
"Were you going to tell me?"
"No, probably not. Because you would probably freak out. Like you're doing now."
"Look, I'm not freaking out. I just wish you would have told me."
"You're not mad?"
"I am kind of, that you didn't tell me about it. I can understand not telling your Dad. But me? I thought we were closer than that. Especially after these last couple months. I'm not really as angry as I am disappointed."
You know when your parents tell you they're disappointed in you rather than angry and that hurts so much more?
Well, that's how I felt at that moment. I didn't know what to say and neither did Mom. She just stood in my doorway with a pouty expression for an awkward minute or so.
Then my buzz kicked in. I'd been smoking some skunk that creeps up on you and doesn't hit you until five or ten minutes after you smoke it. And when it did hit me, even with the buzz killing conversation, it hit me hard.
Spontaneously, an absurd idea entered my mind and, in my stoned state, I decided to share it with Mom.
"How about I make it right with you by smoking you up, Mom?"
"What?" Mom replied with a quizzical expression.
"Have you ever smoked?"
"I did back in high school, before I met your Dad. I had this boyfriend who did it sometimes."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah, but that was a long, long time ago."
"Smoke some with me, Mom. I bet this stuff I got is a lot more potent than what you smoked back in the day."
"Back in the day?! I'll have you know it wasn't that long ago I was a teenager!"
"Just like old times then, Mom."
"I don't know... I don't know if I want you doing that in my house."
"So is it better for me to do it at home or on the street?"
"I don't want you doing it anywhere and I don't want to do it, either!"
"Oh come on, Mom! It's not that bad for you. Try some. We can watch a funny movie afterward. Have you seen 'Half-Baked' or 'Chappelle's Show'?"
"I have seen 'Chappelle's Show.'"
"But you haven't seen it high. You have to see it high."
"I can't believe I'm having this conversation."
"Let me smoke you up, Mom. It'll be cool."
"Absolutely not!"
"Please? It'll be fun. You should have a little fun with Dad being out of town."
"You know he'd kill you if you found you doing that."
"So are you going to tell him?"
"No, because I want you to live."
"Then live with me, Mom. You're always hanging out at home, not doing anything. Live a little. Have a good time. Don't be so stuck up."
"I am not stuck up!"
"When was the last time you did anything crazy? Or fun?"
Mom didn't answer, sighed and looked over her shoulder, then looked back at me with a cautious expression.
"Alright. Fine. But only this once. Let me get ready for bed first."
And with that Mom ducked out of the room. I couldn't believe my luck. I went from possibly getting grounded forever to getting to smoke some herbs with my sexy Mom. How lucky was I?
I took out some more sticky, stinky crystal covered red skunk weed from my stash and cut it up on my smoking plate. I wanted it ready for when Mom came back.
It didn't take Mom too long to return, and when she did, she wore a white silk robe that was tied by a knot around the waist. Her cleavage and creamy thighs peeked out a bit from its parts.
Being as buzzed as I was, seeing such an attractive older woman come walking in through my door instantly got me horny. I didn't even really consider the fact that it was my Mom.
I started to play Cypress Hill's "Hits from the Bong" on my computer and moved from my desk where I'd been sitting, over to the foot of my bed, bringing the bong and weed plate with me.
"Come join me..." I suggested to Mom, who then hesitantly walked over and took a seat next to me on the bed.
"God, it's been so long since I've done this." Mom muttered as she slowly sat down.
I packed Mom a fat bowl full of skunk weed and passed the bong over to her. She didn't seem to know how to hit it.
"Ever smoke from a bong?" I asked.
