Eddie and His Mom Ch. 01

The following story is true. I have changed names to protect the innocent, but everything else really happened. All people involved in sexual activities are at least 18 years old.

*

Lot of people are probably wondering how I came to view my mom sexually. Did I catch her masturbating, like in so many stories? Or did she catch me masturbating? My answer is that there was no one event that triggered my attraction to her. I simply never differentiated between females inside and outside my family and no one ever told me I should. I doubt most parents give their kids the birds-and-bees talk and end by saying "But you can't do it with relatives."

I think I have a more diverse taste in women than most men. I of course have a strong appreciation for the young, big-boobed, slender women that the advertising industry loves but I can get off just as easily thinking of women of all sorts of age groups and body types. My Mom, while not one of the absurd supermodel MILFs you'll find in so many fictional stories, has aged better than most women her age and once even got carded for buying alcohol. She's a short woman (I was taller than her by my freshman year of high school) with chin-length black hair and pale skin. She's round but not fat and has small B-cup breasts. But her best part is her ass, whose bulging roundness is obvious even in the loosest skirts and pants.

It's hard to pinpoint the moment I realized that I loved my mother as more than just a mother. It was in my teen years when my desire for her became physical as well as emotional but I feel like I loved her for my entire life. When I left for college, I missed her so much that my love for her grew tenfold. When I came home for holidays, I started sharing her bed again because being with her just felt so comfortable and right. Sometimes I would snuggle up to her as she slept, letting go only when I got an embarrassing erection. I'd wake up early and go to the bathroom or shower just so that I could have the chance to jack off. Sometimes, if it was real early and my willpower was especially weak, I'd hold up the comforter with my left hand and masturbate with my right while watching my mother sleeping beside me. Afterwards, I'd lay in bed blushing, praying that I hadn't woken her.

My love for my mother had but one obstacle: my father. I hated him. He wasn't abusive or neglectful, just cold and stern to both me and my mom. He simply didn't love us. On the rare occasions he showed emotion, it was to throw a temper tantrum over the silliest little things. Even on things he should have been angry about, like a bad grade, he completely overreacted. He'd lock himself up in his study and Mom would lock herself up in her room. When I was young and stupid, I would try to go into my father's study and try to calm him down, only to be shouted at and thrown out. I soon realized that my time was better spent comforting my mother. I wouldn't say much but the clichéd "It's all right." My mother would lie down with my and hug me for hours.

As I got older, Mom was more willing to discuss her feelings with me. We'd lay down together and stay up for hours, with her confiding in me her frustration and unhappiness with her husband. As I held her, she whispered, "If he didn't have the better job, I think I would divorce him."

"Would you look for a new husband?" I asked.

"I don't know. He'd have to be a decent, loving man," she whispered back.

"Like me?" I asked jokingly.

"You? You'd want to be your old mom's husband?"

My heart skipped a beat. I had almost revealed my secret incestuous fantasies! In a tone that I hoped was still light and joking, I answered, "Sure, why not? Would you like to be my wife?"

She snuggled me tighter and, in a tone that seemed almost serious, she said, "Yes."

My "marriage proposal" had taken place just before I left for my second year of college. When I finally went to college, I had a single room in the dorms, giving me the privacy to masturbate much more than I did at home. Her "yes" answer had filled my head with fantasies that had seemed crazy at the time. And they weren't just sexual fantasies. Fantasies of a life and a home with just her and me, together as husband and wife, became my obsession.

I remember very clearly the moment I got the phone call. I had just gotten back from an hour and twenty minute class. I hadn't been able to concentrate since my mother had been on my mind and I was horny. I had just laid down in my bed and reached under my pants when my phone rang. I sighed in frustration as I threw off my blanket and answered.

"Eddie?" It was my mom. Her voice was calm yet soft and breathless.

"Hi Mom. What's going on?"

"It's your father. He's dead. He had a heart attack." Her voice held no detectable sadness. Only confusion and a sense of being lost.

"I'll book a flight home. I'll be there as soon as possible."

"Okay, son," she said. "I love you."

"I love you too. Bye."

Many of you will think I'm terrible, and maybe I am, but my lust increased tenfold. The very next thing I did was whip off my pants and start jerking off. I beat my shaft mercilessly as images of my mother flashed in front of me. My mother bent down in front of me, her round pale ass in my face as I kissed her buttocks. My mother kneeling before me with my cock in her hand, my white cum splattered onto her pretty face. My mother as my girlfriend, making out with me in the backseat of the family car. My mother as my wife, her belly swelling with my unborn child. That last image made me hit my orgasm and several ropes of my seed shot out of my erect dick, arched through the air and splattered down on my bed, some of it landing on me.

The knowledge that my father was finally out of the picture aroused me to new heights. I had one of THOSE days, where you do nothing but lie around and masturbate. My mother was available. Fantasy had become possibility!

As I sat on the plane, for the first time in my life, I felt guilty about masturbating to my mother. Not because of that silly incest taboo but because I hadn't given any thought to how I would console her or what I would say to her. I thought about it for the entire plane ride and the cab ride from the airport.

When I arrived home, my mother, her face somber, pulled me into a hug. She let me go and, with a sad smile, said, "Come on in."

Setting down the single backpack that I'd brought, I looked around the house, not quite believing that my father was really gone. A thrill shot through my body as I realized that my mother and I were here alone like in my fantasies but it died down when I remembered my top priority. Find out what she was feeling.

"Are you..." I paused, unsure if I should continue. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," my mom said. She chuckled sardonically. "And that's the problem. My husband's dead and I feel just fuckin' fine! There's something really wrong with that."

I had never heard my mother curse before.

To this day I don't know what possessed my mother to say the things she did. "When he died, I didn't feel grief. Regret, but not grief. Mostly all I felt was relief. I can get a new start. A new life." She looked at me with a rather un-motherly type of love. "With you."

I think it was my emotional turmoil and my mother's own lack of inhibition that made me do what I did next. I kissed her on the lips the way a lover would. And she reciprocated wholeheartedly. She started rubbing my crotch through my pants and, even though I had cum so much yesterday, my cock was brought to life instantly.

My mother pulled back suddenly. "I-I'm sorry. I shouldn't have..."

"No it's okay." I took her by the shoulders and pulled her closer. "Really."

"I shouldn't do this. I don't know how you're feeling."

"The same way you are." I kissed her again. This time, there was no resistance.

I ran my right hand over my mother's ass through the paper-thin cloth of her worn nightdress. I moved my left hand over her braless right breast and fondled it softly. All the while my erection strained painfully against the inside of my pants.

Mom broke off the kiss. "Let's go upstairs," she whispered. I nodded eagerly.

We returned to our room. The moment we were inside the door, Mom stripped off her nightdress and stood before me in just her panties. My hands shaking, I struggled with the fly of my pants.

"Let's get those out of the way. Lay down." I lay on my back as my mother undid my fly and pulled my pants down, undressing me the way she had when I was just a child. I pulled off my shirt as she removed my boxers, revealing the erect pole underneath, its tip wet. My mother lay on top of me for a moment, just gazing at it. For the first time since I'd arrived, she was smiling brilliantly.

Finally, she climbed on top of me and impaled herself on my cock. I pushed in smoothly, reaching up and playing with her beautiful tits as I entered her. She arched her back, sighing softly.

I began thrusting up into her, feeling her cunt grasping every inch of my cock, stroking it back and forth. My mother leaned forward and gave me another wet kiss.

I rolled over on top of her, grabbing her shapely buttocks as I did. I continued thrusting into her and she thrust back, our humping getting quicker and quicker. My mother isn't a screamer, but her soft gasps and sighs, quickening as I brought her toward her climax, were sexier than anything I could have imagined.

"Eddie, I...I'm gonna..."

"Cum?" I managed to get out that single word between moans.

"Yes, cum," she said, as if the dirty word were strange to her tongue. "I'm gonna cum! Oh! Uhhh! Ohhhh!" Her beautiful face scrunched up and she clenched her teeth as I felt her cunt contracting around my shaft. In short order, I hit my own orgasm.

"Oh goddamn!" I felt a surge of cum shoot through my shaft and blast full force into my mother's cunt and up into the womb I had come from. We continued humping together throughout our climax, my cock continuing to shoot spurt after spurt inside her.

As our orgasms subsided, I pulled out of my mother and slumped down on top of her. I wrapped my arms around her, kissing her bare breasts. She hugged me closer and we lay there together, basking in the afterglow of our union.

For a while, we lay together in silence. "Hey, Mom. Remember our last talk here? The one where I said I'd like to be your husband?"

She nodded.

"I meant it."

She grinned brilliantly. "I meant it when I said I'd like to be your wife."

I took her hand. "Michelle, will you marry me?"

"Yes."

And that was it. From then on out, we were secretly husband and wife. Our relationship took off and we never looked back.

We spent the rest of that day in bed.