Memories of Mother

I always thought of myself as a normal kid when I was growing up. I knew other families sometimes had more than one child but I had friends who were also only children. And other fathers had jobs that involved traveling. I was in my mid-teens when my dad began spending time on the road, as he put it. That always seemed like a strange idea since he flew whenever he traveled for work. He was a big shot in the company and visited plants around the country. I never understood exactly what he was doing during those days or weeks he was gone, but I was happy with the luxurious life style his success at work provided for us. My mother seemed to enjoy living the good life as well, though it wasn't too long after my father began traveling that I began to sense her unhappiness. My mom and I were close, even before my dad started traveling. I guess that's not unusual when there's only one child. It was all I knew, of course, so I didn't think about it.

My parents were quite young when I was born. My mom was nineteen and my dad twenty-two. I think he'd just finished college when they got married. They started their family right away. I don't know why they stopped with just one kid, but I was certainly happy with the attention I got, especially from my mom. It was only as I got older that I came to understand that she was beautiful. She was just my mom and I loved her. But as my body began maturing and I started sharing emerging feelings with boy friends who occasionally visited our home, I learned my mother was not your ordinary woman. She was not only beautiful, she was sexy. I'd get angry when friends started talking dirty about my mother, but in truth I was proud of her. Guys would show me pictures from magazines, comparing the voluptuous, naked women on those glossy pages with my mother and I could hardly argue with them. They were right, my mom was a knockout! I began looking at her with different eyes.

I'd learned to masturbate by then, using magazines a friend stole from his father's stash. As juices continued to flow through my young body and my perception of my mother changed, it simply happened that I'd get turned on when she was wearing something particularly provocative, or when she hugged me close against her wonderfully firm breasts and kissed me on the cheek.

One afternoon she walked into my room unannounced and found me beating off. I turned toward her, my face flushed with embarrassment, my aching erection clutched in my fingers which instantly stopped moving. Her eyes were fixed on my throbbing penis for a moment before she mumbled an apology and turned to leave, the door closing silently behind her. I immediately resumed stroking myself, shocked to find images of my mother passing through my mind as I finally ejaculated.

Nothing was ever said about the incident, but things clearly were changing between the two of us. By that time my father's trips occurred more often, as did the intensity of the arguments between my parents. I'd hear them shouting at each other late into the night when they thought I was asleep. My father would storm out the front door, slamming it behind him. I'd hear his car leaving with a roar, then as quiet returned to the house, hear my mother sobbing in her room. I felt so helpless during those fights. Sometimes my father would be gone for a couple of days, other times he'd disappear longer, ostensibly on a business trip that apparently coincided with one of their fights. And my mother had begun drinking quite a bit more. I was concerned for her...

I leaned against the doorframe, eyes adjusting to the dim light in my parent's bedroom. It was the middle of the afternoon and my mother had been drinking again. I suggested she might want to lie down for a while and to my surprise she agreed, pushing herself out of her chair and staggering down the hall. I followed to make certain she didn't fall. Of course, that was only half the reason if I were really honest with myself. My eyes followed her swinging hips, mesmerized as always by the round perfection of her bottom in the clinging skirt that twirled around her legs with each step. Now I was watching wide-eyed as she removed her clothes before lying down. Her fingers struggled with the button at the side of her skirt but eventually it slipped free and she pulled the zipper down.

The garment fell to the floor in a pool around her ankles but my eyes were fixed to the bikini panties that covered little of her round bottom. She leaned over to pick up the skirt, turning slightly, giving me an unhindered view of her curves. Then she rose, placing the skirt on the back of the chair next to her bed before slowly undoing the buttons that ran down the front of her blouse. I was already hard as I stared at her fingers opening the blouse and shrugging it off her shoulders. She turned in profile and I saw her breasts cradled in one of the lowcut brassieres she always wore. She lay the blouse atop the skirt before turning away from the chair.

She faced me for a moment, before her eyes lowered and she climbed onto the rumpled bed. She rolled over onto her back, stretching her long legs. The fingers of her right hand moved across the top of her thigh, then eased between them, where she began touching herself through the silk of her panties. My eyes followed the light caress, noting with appreciation her legs spreading, one knee lifting as her hip shifted off the bed covers. Then I noticed her other hand covering her breast, the fingers drawing together to tease her nipple through the nylon brassiere cup.

No matter how many times I watched my mother pleasure herself, it never ceased to turn me on. I knew I'd retire to my room in a couple of minutes and beat off, the images I was collecting at the moment, ones I'd use as I stroked myself to completion. Even now my fingers were lightly caressing the bulge in the front of my shorts.

My mother's fingers eased into the brassiere cup, gently lifting the naked mound free. Her other hand had eased into her panties, fingers quickening their caress. Her head turned on the pillow as her hips shifted to follow the fingers offering such magical sensations. Her eyes met mine for a moment, sharing the growing secret at the heart of our relationship. She wanted me to watch her like this! It turned her on to excite me. Her eyes lowered for an instant and I knew she was looking at the bulge in my shorts, at my fingers touching myself as she masturbated.

Her fingers released the clasp at the front of her brassiere and her breasts were suddenly naked, two heavy mounds rising from her chest, nipples erect. I was getting so turned on, the thought crossed my mind that I might want to extract my penis right here. I could jack off while I watched her. She could see me cum! I pulled the side of my shorts away from my loins, fingers sliding beneath the fabric quickly finding my erection. I slid it free, the organ rising from my loins into my waiting hand.

My mother's eyes widened as they noticed what I'd done. Her fingers were moving faster now and I knew she wanted to see my naked cock. I slowly stroked myself, vividly aware of her eyes following my movements. She rolled on her side to face me. At the same time she reached down and pulled her panties off. For the first time I saw her completely naked, her body out of this world it was so beautiful! Her full breasts lay together creating a deep cleavage. Her top leg was bent to reveal the lushness of flesh where her thighs came together. Profuse curls of blonde hair marked the juncture.

For the first time I thought of joining her on the bed, of allowing myself to touch those luscious curves that I'd caressed so many times with my eyes. Of course, I'd felt her firm body when she'd "accidentally" brush against me as we moved about the house. My father never seemed to notice the sexual energy between the two of us. I was convinced that he and my mother lived more like brother and sister than like passionate lovers. I often wondered if my father wasn't secretly gay, finding his pleasure in the arms of other men or perhaps teens like me rather than his beautiful, sexy wife.

Whenever I felt her firm breasts against my back I'd suddenly become very still, completely giving myself to the contact. Perhaps we'd been talking about something. I'd act natural, continuing our conversation while holding my body still, focusing on the gentle nudging of her breasts, or the shifting of her hips against my thigh. My father could even be in the room as she played her little games with me. I'd inevitably get hard and have to keep my body turned from his. My mother always knew when I was aroused, often taking the opportunity to step around me and brush her hip against the bulge in my trousers. It was so wicked, yet we never did more than that until now.

I'd started following my mother into her room a couple of weeks ago, seriously concerned that she might fall in her state of inebriation. I fully intended to leave when she was safely there, but immediately she began undressing, her eyes swinging in my direction over and over again. I could hardly believe what was happening, but nothing could make me leave as she continued stripping down to her undergarments.

Now my cock was out and my mother was completely naked before me for the first time. She stared at my fingers stroking myself as she frantically shifted her fingers between her thighs. I could hardly contain myself it was so exciting. My fingers were moving with greater urgency. I was soo close! And then I was cumming, white juice arcing from my cock as I exploded. My mother was writhing on the bed and I knew instinctively that she was cumming as well.

My cock continued surging, spurts diminishing in volume but surging none the less. I grabbed the doorframe to steady myself, aware for the first time that my cum lay in gobs on the rug before me. I reached into my pocket and found my handkerchief before wiping the still oozing crown of my cock which had begun to relax a bit. I dropped to my knees and began cleaning the rug. I could hear my mother's ragged breathing and glanced up. She'd fallen back on the bed covers, her eyes closing. I knew she was falling asleep, the combination of alcohol and sexual release enough to put her to sleep. I slowly rose to my feet and turned to leave. I had no idea where this dance was leading, but clearly we had reached a new plateau today.

II

My mother had a cocktail in her hand as she entered the den where I was watching television. It was four in the afternoon and I knew this was already the middle of what would be a long day of drinking for her. I couldn't help notice that my mother's clothes were wrinkled, her blouse not fully tucked into her skirt, its buttons not closed down the length of its front, her legs bare rather than covered with nylons as was normal. Her hair was a bit disheveled as well, though her makeup was carefully applied. She settled on the sofa next to me, turning slightly toward me, a move that caused her short skirt to slide higher on her slender, well tanned thighs.

By that time I'd seen my mother's body completely naked, so nothing she did at the moment shocked me. I glanced in her direction and returned her smile, then resumed watching the television. She said something that I couldn't quite hear and turned to gaze at her again. My eyes fell to the open front of her blouse for an instant, noting the deep cleavage between the full curves of breasts I'd been fantasizing about since I saw my mother naked on her bed.

"Watchya watching?" Her words were slurred suggesting this was far from the first cocktail she'd had that day.

"Baywatch." I returned my eyes to the television show, that featured half a dozen hot babes who spent most of the hour in the skimpiest bathing suits. I heard my mother's chuckle when one of these women entered a room, her gorgeous body clearly on display for the audience as well as the male members of the cast.

"Hot stuff, huh?" I felt my mother shift on the sofa, out of the corner of my eye noting that she'd moved closer to me. I could see her skirt sliding higher and glanced down. A flash of color was certainly her panties. I was already a bit turned on by the television show, but my mother's presence really stirred my juices. It was hard to forget that two nights before I'd beaten off while she watched me. My organ was swelling in my trousers and I felt no need to hide my excitement. I lifted my gaze and met my mother's eyes again. As we held each other's eyes she lifted her free hand and began undoing the few buttons still closed at the front of her blouse. I hadn't known for certain what would happen next between us, but I had little doubt something would happen. It seemed to be now.