The doorbell rings to my apartment. Strange, I'm not expecting anyone. I walk out of the doorway from my room, and into the small living room. I quickly walk towards the door, still pondering who's at my door. I unlock the top lock, and I turn the door knob. I open the door to find my mom standing there.
"Hey, mom. It's almost 9PM, is everything alright?" I ask, further opening the door, and swinging my arm to invite her in.
"Yes, everything's fine, sweetheart." She answers, quickly walking into the living room.
I observe what she's wearing. She got on blue jeans, that go just below her ankles. Her black flip-flops clack as she walks in. Her purple T-shirt ripples as the wind hits it while I shut the door. Her brown hair is up in a ponytail. As usual, she looks good. She was here yesterday for my 18th B-Day celebration.
"Oh." I say. She sits down in the only one-seater I have. I sit on the left side of the couch, catty corner to her.
"I just... wanted to say how proud I am of you." She says quietly. I get a whiff of alcohol on her breath, which surprised me, because she's never much of a drinker. She looks surprisingly good for being 36, having only had me when she was 18. My dad took off shortly after I was born, and left my mom with me. Somehow, we both got through it all. She works as the manager for the huge mall thats only about 5 miles from me.
"Well, thanks mom." I say back. She leans closer to me, and places her right hand on my knee. Her purse falls off the arm of her chair.
"You are the only good man I've known in my life." She says back.
"Thanks again." I answer. She is definitely drunk.
"Mom, have you been drinking?" I ask. She perks up a little.
"I had a few shots with couple of my friends." She answers. We sit in silence for a couple minutes. She gently squeezes my knee.
"I'm so proud of you." She tells me again.
"I know, thanks." I reach up and readjust my hat. Her fingers rub the black denim on my knee. I look at her face, her greenish-blue eyes.
In her drunken stupor, she quickly slides her hand up to my crotch, to which in response I quickly move her hand away.
"Mom, are you sure you're okay?" I ask, with my face turning red. She doesn't answer, she just slides down in front of me, between my open legs. A little smile grazes her face. I uncomfortably shift in my seat, not knowing what else to do. I've never really had that much of an attraction towards my mom. She is still incredibly sexy and and if I'm honest, kinda hot, now that I think about it.
Her eyes look into mine as she unzips my pants.
"When was the last time my baby came?" She asks, pulling my pants down along my legs.
"Uhm I don't... know." I say with a twinge as she grips my cock through my boxers.
"Oh come on, trust your mother." She says gently squeezing my cock as it becomes harder and harder with each passing second.
"Uh like, I don't know... a little over a week?" I say. Her eyes widen a little.
"A week?! Well my baby's gonna have a big load then, huh?" My moms words and sudden change of personality have stunned me. She's never shown any sort of attraction towards me, nor have I.
She yanks my boxers down, and my cock slaps her in the face. I'm not large downstairs, I'm only about 7 inches in length, but my girth is pretty damn impressive. I've had numerous girls tell me that.
Her eyes widen again, and her mouth opens wide in a drunken smile.
"Woooow. My son is so... BIG!" She exclaims. She softly wraps her right hand around my girth, but her hand can't get completely around it. Told ya it was impressive.