The Seduction of My Maja

Josip, back from school in Croatia, finds his mom divorced from her abusive husband, owning a successful business, and nearly unrecognizable. How else could a loving son do to show how much he appreciates his beautiful majka?

Hope you enjoy my story! As always, communication welcome! xo DG

The Seduction of My Majka

"Alright, what have you done with my majka and can you make sure she doesn't come back?" I said, with some amount of humor but mostly shock when I met my mother waiting for me at the airport.

Croatian women usually weren't petite, and she was no exception.

"Ha," her quiet, but gravelly voice was near my ear. "Zdravo sine, I've missed you so much."

I held her to me, missing her more than I could say. It had been three years since I left for Zagreb to stay with my grandparents while I went to school. It was only supposed to be a year, but the US government had tapped me for a job and paid for the schooling I'd need.

We finally parted and I held her at arm's length. She was not the beaten-down majka I left during a divorce from my father. He had not treated her well and I was unable to get her to leave him. Only when she knew I would no longer be around to step in.

Her eyes crinkled at the corners of the memorable large warm brown eyes. A streak of silver began at her front hairline and traveled through dark brown-black hair to well below her shoulders. I had never seen my mom with hair that long.

"You're staring, Josip," she laughed, embarrassed. "Let's get your cases. I have a room local, and we will start home in the morning." I smiled to myself when I heard her stilted English.

She cut through the crowd in front of me and I was shocked as I watched her from behind. Because I could see she no longer looked like my mama, but a beautiful woman, who I almost didn't recognize.

She had lost many pounds and now had shapely hips but remained large on top. Her small waist set off her large dojke. As we waited for the luggage carousel, she caught the attention of many men, but she only had eyes for me, her son.

She was nearly my five foot nine, which was attention-getting itself. But her beauty, broad smile, and velvet brown eyes would suck many a man in. She seemed to be unaware of it all.

She smiled up at me. "What? You're still staring."

"I just can't believe how beautiful you are," I said sincerely. She elbowed me and I got there just in time to pull my cases off.

"The hotel is attached to the terminal, so we walk," she said, leading the way, which was a pleasure.

The room's wall window looked out over a runway and taxiway. Two queen beds centered the room, with the normal hotel accouterments.

She had a small case on one bed that was open, and I noticed a few toiletries on the bath counter. She looked the in-room menu over while I unpacked a few things for the night.

I kicked my shoes off, propped on a pile of pillows, and watched her wander around the room. Her Balkan olive skin made her appear to have a perpetual tan.

She didn't even look my way but said, "You're staring again Josip."

"I can't help it. It's like a metamorphosis. You're like a beautiful butterfly now. You're just so different." I didn't add that I was having a tough time thinking of her as just my mom, as did my cock which formed a sizable lump in my pants.

She leaned against the dresser. "It has been three years since we've seen each other." She waved her hand. "You have to, moja ljubav," she said fondly. "After your father. It was very difficult for me. You were gone. A neighbor made me go to the gym with her."

My mother still struggled with the English language at times because Croatian was her native language. Although it's much easier to learn English than to learn Croatian. It was easier for me because I was immersed in it. I read it, wrote it, and spoke it. After all, I did live there. I no longer have an English accent, which was just what the government ordered.

"So that's how you lost weight?" She nodded.

She wore a loose blouse and pants, not dressed at all provocatively, but she may as well have been standing there in a sexy negligee. My libido was on fire. My dick didn't care that it was my mom it was hard for.

I sat on the edge of the bed, and she walked over with the menu. I pulled her between my legs and put my head on her breasts, hugging her. She hugged me close, having no idea how much I wanted her right now.

"I've missed you too. I think you are happy for me, and I am glad. I hoped you would be surprised."

I held her close, my arms wrapped around her small waist. The heat of her body, the pounding of her heart, the soft firmness of her breasts. I looked up at her and she brushed a lock from my forehead. I placed my lips against her breast and felt her reaction even through her bra and blouse.

"Jo, no, it's not right," she said, calling me by my nickname. Instead of it working as she wanted, it just proved to me how different she was now.

"Mama," I murmured, my lips moving against her breast.

She bent and kissed the top of my head. "Stop. We have to order food now. There is no sarma on this menu, but I will take care of that when I get you home."

I released her, knowing that someday sooner or later, I would have my mother under me in bed while I filled her with my seed.

When she came out of the bathroom I was on the bed watching television. Shiny black strands escaped the knot of hair on her head. She wore a matching red pajama bottom and top, not the least bit sexy to most men. I saw the satin slide down the slope of her breasts to her nipples, then cling to the hard nubs to fall straight down. Under the sheet, my hand covered my cock and squeezed.

She glanced at me, smiled, then looked again. "What are you grinning at?" She looked down as though she'd find a splotch of tonight's dinner.

"You," I murmured.

She walked to the nightstand between the beds and set the alarm. I put my arm out and caught her around the hips. Her skin was warm and steamy from the shower, the pajamas silky. I slid my hand under her top to feel her skin. Her lips parted with a gasp.

"Jo!" she exclaimed but didn't step away.

"What?" I smiled. "You're just so soft and sexy."

"You shouldn't say things like that to your majka," she scolded.

She looked down at me, her eyes quickly scanning my chest.

"Do you have a man? Someone to take care of you?" I asked.

"I don't need anyone to take care. I do it myself!"

"I didn't mean it that way. I mean, do you have a lover? Someone that makes you moan and shudder?"

She stepped away and turned to flip the sheets back. The silky pants stretched across her shapely ass and hips. My arm was still outstretched, and my hand only inches away. But I didn't want to scare her away and I had time. Plenty of time to seduce my mother.

It was only a three-hour drive to our home in the mountains, but we woke early, had breakfast, and got on the road. Much to her consternation I insisted on driving. I suspect it was another ploy in showing me her independence. I got it and would allow her to remain so. But I would have my way otherwise. Sooner or later.

After the divorce, mom sold the house and moved. Something I very much approved of. The house was filled with ugly memories that would never be swept clean.

"I'm anxious to see where you live," I said as we were about thirty minutes out.

"We. We live. You have room. Always," she smiled. We held hands on the car console.

I made the turns as she directed, and we pulled up in front of an old retail building on the main street. The white sign out front over the windows said. YOGA STUDIO. The old storefront had windows on each side as you walked to the inset door. In the day, mannequins would have lined each side touting the fashionable wares of the store. Old tan and black mosaic tiles covered the floor from the sidewalk to the door in a creative design. She unlocked the door and locked it again behind us.

"There are stairs to our living space next to the store, but I thought you might want to see studio."

I looked around at the space which was the antithesis of the exterior. The walls were painted soothing blue-grey, and the short nap commercial carpet was shades of the same blue. The lighting was muted and soft. The air was lightly scented with spice. It was comforting and relaxing.

"You did all this?"

"I did," she said.

"Extraordinary," was all I could say. "Do you get men in your classes?"

"Yes, quite a number."

"I'm not surprised. This is very comfortable for me. I expected something more--girlie," I smiled.

"Let's go up."

I grabbed the cases and went up the creaky stairs, which reminded me I was in an old building.

"I didn't know you bought an old retail building?"

"They want to revive the downtown area and others were buying. The price was right. We help each other here. Painting, plumbing, electric, it was all on exchange between us."

I shook my head. So many surprises and things that I missed while away. I was momentarily sad when thinking about it.

"You look sad, Josip. Don't be. I am happier than I've ever been. This is a small town, but we look out for each other. In many ways, it reminds me of the town I was born in Croatia."

She flipped some lights on and I was treated to the same calm and relaxing atmosphere. It was minimalist but not bare. There was color, but it wasn't overwhelming. There were various textures everywhere. Smooth polished shiny colored stones, woolen weavings, and artwork on the walls.

She opened a door. "This is your room. I didn't do much with it. I wanted to leave it up to you. We can paint if you want, I will not mind."

I walked in. The walls were a creamy butter yellow. The thick carpeting was white, the bedclothes the same butter yellow but a shade darker. Blue pillows matched an overstuffed blue chair by the window. A whitewashed wood dresser, nightstands, and table were the only other accouterments in the room.

"It's perfect. Absolutely perfect." I swung my eyes to her still looking at me anxiously. "You're remarkable. Certainly not the same woman I left. Not the mom that put up with beatings from her husband and barely flinched. You have become a strong and independent woman."

She smiled with a big breath. I hadn't realized she had been holding it and waiting. Not for the compliments, but for the abuse for anything he deemed she did wrong.

I quickly moved across the room and hugged her to me. She clung and I could feel her body shaking as she sobbed. I knew she had to let it out. I lifted her, walked over to the chair, and held her on my lap. She sobbed uncontrollably. All the years came out in one emotional moment.

I felt like a heel when my cock didn't detect the atmosphere and chose to rise and enjoy itself against her hip.

Her face was buried in my neck. Her hand was around my neck. Tits were pressed into my chest. her tighter against me. I felt like a lecher with my own mom, but there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it.

I woke up from my nap, and true to her promise smelled the wonderful scent of sarma in the air. I grew up on cabbage rolls, and my grandmother made them regularly when I was living with them.

She was busy at the sink and didn't see me, giving me time to watch her in her own environment. Long black hair streamed down to her lower back. She wore a white t-shirt tucked into jeans shorts and her feet were bare. Each tiny toenail was painted a shell pink to match her fingernails.

"Something smells good," I said, after finally getting my eyes filled with her.

She turned around and flushed. "I hoped you wanted some sarmas!"

My eyes locked on her breasts pushing through the stretchy knit of her shirt. I thought I could even see the dark shadow of her nipples or was that my imagination wanting it to be?

"Of course! I'd never pass them up. Baba made them very often."

"Then we will see who makes the best!" She walked into the living area. "I have to practice some new yoga moves. Do you mind?"

"No, not at all. I'll leave you alone," I said.

"Not necessary. You're welcome to stay. Maybe someday try yoga yourself!"

"Maybe," I said, grinning.

She unsnapped her shorts and pushed them down. I was momentarily shocked until I saw what I thought was a t-shirt, was a leotard. My heart pounded and my dick got hard so fast it ached. I quickly sat in a chair.

She proceeded to move into various positions that made my cock ache more as she did it. The fabric wedged in her gorgeous ass, and then when she turned, I noticed it was buried between her pussy lips. Her back arched which thrust her tits up pushing through the thin white fabric.

I began to imagine her naked doing this and my cock started leaking precum. My hand was over my cock squeezing. I thought, if this doesn't end soon, I can't be held responsible for the consequences.

Finally, she sat up. "Phew. Those were some new poses for me, and they were much tougher." She took a long drink of water out of her water bottle. Some dribbled out the corner, trailed down her neck, and stopped by her t-shirt which soaked it up. "Oh!" she said, looking down, at her shirt while she wiped the water with the back of her hand.

She looked at me, her eyes flared when she noticed the bulge in my pants, the look of want on my face.

"Oh Josip," she sighed. "You're my sina. How can I feel this way? To je pogresno."

"It's not wrong if we both want it," I said simply. "We're different now than we were. We barely recognize each other."

She nodded, agreeing to that. But I could tell not fully onboard. I was willing to wait. But that didn't mean I wouldn't keep trying. I was blinded to anything but her.

The next days were busy for us both. The government was allowing me to work from home until I got my first assignment, and my mom had yoga classes. I hadn't realized how many in this small town would participate. I wasn't surprised to see many men in her classes. Moreso for the women than the exercise. I dare say if the guys knew how hot the women were in their various forms of fitness wear, they would find that yoga was in fact very good for them.

I just closed the lid on the coffeemaker when she came into the kitchen. I rarely saw her in anything but yoga outfits. Until now, I didn't know that even was a thing. Now I was hyper-aware.

That the pants were thin and stretchy knit, making them skintight. That the tops were nearly sports bras that were made of the same thin knit. How the stretch held breasts tight, revealing every bump and dimple.

And after watching a few of her classes, I realized that mom's yoga attire wasn't nearly as revealing as many of the other women's. At the risk of sounding like a pervert, it was a voyeur's delight.

"You're looking sexy and sporty this morning," I commented, taking a sip of coffee. Her yoga pants this morning were light blue, and the tight midriff top was tie-dyed in blue, orange, and black.

She glanced at me, and I saw a flush across her cheeks. "Thank you, Jo. I made this one." She looked down. "I wanted something in bright colors. Happy."

"That it is. Happy. Sexy."

"Oh, behave yourself," she said, turning to pour her coffee.

The knit held her round ass like a lover's hands. She was just muscular enough from the yoga, but not overly so. Her thighs were shapely but muscular enough to make you imagine how they'd feel wrapped around you.

I watched her over the rim of my mug. I know I shouldn't be thinking that about my mom. But I was long past that. I couldn't look at her breasts without imagining what they looked like bare. Tight yoga pants crept into her slit and the crack of her ass, and I wished I could run the head of my cock in that same route.

I usually sported a hard-on when she was around. She was so used to it, that I noticed her looking more and taking a longer look. I figured from that, I was making progress, and I would play that for all it was worth.

"How's the coffee?" I asked, brushing against her while I poured another cup.

"I think I've finally trained you to make the good dobra kafa," she said, drifting into our Croatian language as she often did.

She leaned against the counter, and I placed my hand on her side, my thumb on the side of her breast. She quickly glanced at me and started to say something.

"Have you ever thought to start your own clothing line?" I asked rather innocently while rubbing my thumb on her breast and watching her nipple harden.

"Umm, not really." She swallowed hard. "I have some ask about it though."

I smiled, never taking my eyes off her breasts. "Maybe you should consider it then?" I knew she caught my double entendre and moved my thumb a fraction closer to that needy nipple.

"Yes," she said breathlessly.

I ran the pad of my thumb over her bullet-hard nipple before moving my hand away.

I rinsed my coffee cup and walked out of the kitchen without looking back.

Happy that my security clearance allowed me to stay right here for the next month, I began to set the laptop up for my new assignment. I heard a soft knock and looked up. I never closed my door since it was only us two that ever came into the living quarters on the second floor.

I had found a desk in the same whitewashed wood as the bedroom furniture, and an office chair from the local big box store. It was all I needed.

"Do you have time for me?" mom asked hesitantly.

I closed my laptop and waved her in. "Of course!"

She perched on the edge of my bed. Since she had multiple classes from morning until late evening, she often changed clothing during the day. From the bright tie dye of the morning to a beautiful shade of light purple. The top ended right below her breasts, leaving her toned midriff bare. Snug yoga pants in the same color hugged her curves.

"I was thinking about what you said this morning." I tore my eyes away from the nipples that threatened to poke through the stretchy fabric and nodded. "Someone asked me in class this morning. Because it can be very difficult to find what we wear," she waved her hand in front of her body, "because we are all such different shapes."

"You made this as well?" I asked, knowing full well she did, but wanting more time to ogle her breasts. This was a lower cut than normal and offered a wonderful view of her cleavage.

She nodded. "Yes. But I'm not sure how I would go about doing it. I don't have time to sew for them too," she shrugged.

"No, I can see that. You're tied up day and night with classes."

She stood up and went to look out the window which overlooked the main street of our little town.

"Yes. I cannot take on more." She crossed her arms under her breasts, oblivious that it only served to push them higher and overflow the neckline.

I stood behind her and put my hands on her shoulders. Instinctively she leaned back into me. Mental support. Closeness. It was all relative to us at this point. I really needed her as much as she needed me.

"I don't know either, but I can surely do some research to see what would be involved." I ran my hands up and down her arms. "If you'd like me to that is?"

I could feel the tension leave her body. I know after dealing with the abuse of my father, she valued her independence above all else. I could also see that she appreciated the encouragement, and I was happy to be there. I wrapped my arms around her bare midriff, and she put her arms over mine. We both looked out over the street activity for a moment.

"Yes, I think I would like that," she finally said.

I kissed the side of her neck and noticed her nipples poking through like bullets. Her skin was hot under my hands while I stroked her bare skin.

"I'll help you, majka. I'll always be here for you," I whispered in her ear. She shuddered in my arms.