Note: This is a total work of fiction and a product of my own imagination. Any resemblance to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental. All characters are over the age of eighteen.
Background
My name is Josh. My Dad was in the military and so consequently we moved around a lot. As an only child our family was extremely close. All our moving resulted in my attending all kinds of school systems all over the world. Somehow, at some point, I seemed to have lost a grade which resulted in my turning eighteen in my junior year of high school. During my senior year, my father was deployed overseas on an unaccompanied year long tour. My mother and I moved into a very nice house in a quiet neighborhood while Dad was away.
My mother was a very caring and loving woman who, no matter where we happened to be stationed, strived to make our home as comfortable as possible. She was a prim and proper, attractive 5'5" woman with a shapely hour-glass figure. She had wavy brown hair with bright hazel eyes. I never really knew her measurements, but I knew from reading a tag on one of her brassieres that she was a 36D. One time my dad had even commented that a model in one of his 'Playboy' magazines had a figure just like mom's and yeah, we could all see the resemblance.
Soon after my dad deployed, things slowly, but surely, began to change. We had always been extremely relaxed in what we wore around the house and it wasn't unusual for us to lounge around in just our underwear. I would generally just wear either a pair of jockey shorts or boxers and a tee shirt. Mom rarely wore a bra in the house, and usually wore loose fitting shirts, pullovers or more times than not, just one of my dad's old tee shirts, along with a pair of panties. Her swaying, jiggling boobs were a constant distraction for me.
One night while asleep in my bedroom, I usually slept in the nude, I was shocked to find my mother curled up next to me in my bed! I nudged her awake asking "Mom, what's going on?!? Are you okay?!?"
She woke up a little groggy "Aaah, oooh baby, I'm sorry...it's just that I miss your dad so much and I've been feeling so lonesome in that big bed. I just wanted to be next to you so that I wouldn't feel so alone. I thought I could wake up earlier than you and sneak back into my room before you woke up. I'll go back now," she said.
"Mom, I don't mind at all, in fact, I'm glad I can help you feel better. It's just that my bed is kinda narrow for two people. If you're feeling lonely, all you need to do is let me know. I can just as easily sleep in your bed as well as my own. Would you like me to join you now?"
"I think I'd like that," she said.
"Okay, just give me a minute to find something to put on."
"Hmmmm," she seemed to ponder the issue for a moment "yeah, I guess so, go ahead if you'll feel more comfortable."
I was a little puzzled by that, but went ahead and pulled on some undershorts. We crawled into bed together, and with the exception of my ever present erection, all we ever did was occasionally cuddle. At first I just slept in her bed once or twice a week, then it was three to four times a week, and before I knew it, it had grown into a regular every night occurrence. Mom usually just went to bed wearing one of my dad's undershirts and a pair of panties, however I couldn't help but notice that on occasion, she didn't wear any panties at all. I thought that maybe she liked the way my hand would always seem to linger on her smooth bum on those nights. I do know that whether it was intentional or not, it was the ultimate tease and I would go half crazy wanting to explore her body! On more than one occasion I'd have to get up to go back into my own bedroom or the bathroom to jack off.
One of those times, around three o'clock in the morning, I was so worked up that I snuck back into my own bed to beating off. I was laying on my back fantasizing about my mom. As I stroked myself, I sensed that I wasn't alone. I glanced over and I saw my mom peeking at me from around the door. I instinctively covered my self up while sitting up, "MOM!" I croaked, "What are you doing?!?"
"I felt you get up, and wanted to make sure you're alright," she whispered as she slowly entered my room and sat down next to me. "It wasn't my intention to embarrass you and I don't want you to feel ashamed. Masturbating is a perfectly natural thing to do...everybody does it."
"Yeah, but they usually do it in private," I added.
"Yes, I'll admit, that is the norm, but it doesn't have to be that way, it's just that when most people masturbate, it's because they get the urge to have sex when they don't have a partner to participate with them. But you know, masturbation is a wonderful and acceptable form of sexual relief, also, there's no reason why someone can't masturbate with another person. That's called 'mutual masturbation.'" She explained.
"Would you masturbate with me." I asked.
"I don't think that that's an appropriate question to ask your mother!" She scolded.
"You're the one who came in here while I was jacking off and brought up the subject!" I countered, "So I think that was only a natural assumption."
"Well, mister, don't get smart with me, and I'm sorry if I've mislead you, that certainly wasn't my intention.
"So, Mom, Have you ever done that...I mean masturbated with someone else?" I asked.
"Josh, again, I don't know if that's a question you should be asking your mother," she said blushing and turning away.
"I only ask because you seemed to know an awful lot about it, that's all..." I muttered.
"Well, those are tales for another time," then in an attempt to change the subject she asked, "So, are we good? Are you feeling better?"
"Well, I guess...but I could still use some privacy. I'm still feeling the need to finish what I was doing...if you know what I mean."
"Oh, sure son, I'm sorry," she said as she jumped up and closed my bedroom door behind her on way out. I couldn't help but feel a little pissed off and confused as I finished jacking off. What the heck was that all about I thought; interrupting me, giving me this talk about masturbation and then just leaving me literally sitting here holding my dick. I stayed in my room that night, and went back to sleeping in my own bed every night thereafter.
Finally, about a week or so later, I was sitting on the sofa watching television when Mom came in carrying an ice cold six pack of beer. She handed me one and grabbed one for herself as she sat down right next to me. She was wearing an old, worn flannel shirt and her cotton panties.
"Thanks mom, this is unexpected," I said. Although I was nearly nineteen, I'd been drinking at home for several years. We occasionally lived places where the drinking water's safety was often questionable, and so I'd sometimes drink beer, because it was safer. Now it was just something I just did.
