Mom's Perfect Peach

"Trust me, I wish I were," I answered solemnly.

I heard nothing back from her for a short time, as if Sarah was desperately trying to process what she had just learned. Finally, my speaker hissed with a long, drawn out, "Holy shit. I was not expecting that!"

I had assumed that much, and answered, "You're telling me, but neither was Mom, I'm sure."

"Oh god, how is she anyway?" she asked with great concern. Of course, I couldn't tell her about the way things ended, but I basically filled her in on the rest of the evening's details. She sounded stunned when I mentioned Mark. "You mean, Mark the roommate, is Mark the, umm, other man?"

"Apparently so," I responded, and then left it at that. We spoke for another few minutes, and I could tell from her voice that Sarah was still somewhat in shock. When I pulled in front of my building, we finally said goodbye so I headed in and got ready for bed.

As I lay there that evening, I couldn't get my mother off my mind. She was torn apart by what had happened between her and my dad and I felt terrible for her. Of course, before I left her, I had to make things worse by putting my foot in my mouth. I wasn't sure how I was going to be able to face her again.

Yet in spite of everything, I couldn't help but ponder Mom's words about actively trying to entice my dad in the bedroom. Obviously she was not just some frigid housewife avoiding physical contact, but a woman of strong desires openly instigating sex with an unwilling partner. In my mind's eye, I could almost see her dressed in a sexy nightie, and wondered how on earth even a gay man could say no to her. I felt myself grow hard at the image, but fought to clear my head out of concern and finally drifted off to sleep.

I intentionally did not call her for a couple days, which I knew was wrong. Mom needed support, so I felt like a complete loser. The more I thought about my comment, the more innocent it sounded. Sure, I did want to see her in something super sexy, but Mom really had no way of knowing that. She had talked about Dad shattering her confidence, so I figured it was appropriate to pump her up a bit. I hoped she would see it that way anyway.

On Tuesday I finally rang her at work, and she sounded tired but otherwise pretty decent. Getting past that initial barrier, I went back to phoning her daily, and if Mom had concerns about my comment she certainly didn't bring them up.

Sarah called me the next day to let me know she was going to be at our mom's place Thursday evening. I was still a bit uneasy with the way I had left things with Mom, so I tried to come up with an excuse not to attend. Unfortunately, under pressure I couldn't come up with anything on the spot and said I'd see her there.

Even though I had been to the house thousands of times before, I was filled with a bit of anxiety as I drove the familiar streets. I saw Sarah's car in the driveway, which relaxed my nerves greatly. I was somewhat surprised to find mom dressed in a rather short skirt and silky button down top, something much sexier than anything I had seen her wear to work previously. She also seemed to be wearing a touch of makeup, and I could detect a hint of perfume when she hugged me, which sent a shiver down my spine.

Sarah had left the boys with a neighbor, so the three of us chatted casually as they worked on dinner. Try as I may, I found in nearly impossible to keep my eyes off of my mom. She really looked lovely, and at times almost seemed to be posing for me as she walked around the kitchen. I did my best to focus my attention on my sister, but at times my eyes were just pulled back to Mom. Visions of her had filled my head of late, and I found myself soaking in her beauty.

After dinner we chatted for an hour or so, before Sarah said she needed to get home to the kids. I said I should be running as well, and noticed a look of disappointment on Mom's face. She said, "Jonathan, I was hoping you could take some boxes down from the attic for me before you left."

"Sure, Mom," I replied, before we said our goodbyes to Sarah.

Mom pointed out three large boxes she needed carried downstairs, which I handled easily. When the task was done, we stood together in the living room, but I could tell something was on her mind. She looked fidgety, as if she wanted to tell or ask me something, but couldn't find the words. Finally, she moved to me and gave me a big hug, and said, "Well, you should be on your way. Drive safe."

It felt amazing holding her in my arms, and I didn't want to let go, but somehow reluctantly did so. I gave her a quick peck on the cheek and said, "Love you, Ma."

Mom gave me a soft smile and replied, "I love you too, sweetie."

The next few days she was all I could think about. Every idle moment I found myself pondering just what may have been on her mind before we parted. I also kept seeing visions of her in her short skirt and sexy top, wondering what other revealing outfits she may have buried in her closet. As sick as it may sound, every time I thought about her I felt a stirring in my groin. She was slowing becoming my obsession.

After watching football with the guys the next Sunday afternoon, I called Mom to check in on her. Apparently she had spent much of the weekend going through some of dad's old stuff and wanted to get it all out of the house as soon as possible. She hoped I'd look it over in case I wanted anything before she donated the lot to charity and asked, "Can you come over now? You can stay for dinner, I made a stew." I had no other plans, so I said yes and after a quick shower was on my way.

I was a bit antsy when I knocked on the door, knowing I was going to be all alone with my mother, but she ushered me in with a bright smile and a warm hug, easing my fears. Minutes later I was going through boxes of old clothes and random keepsakes, little of which I really desired. I picked out a few things and set them aside, and Mom asked if I wouldn't mind taking a load in my car to the Goodwill before they closed for the day. While I packed up and drove downtown, Mom was going to shower and get dinner ready.

When I arrived back home I found Mom in the kitchen doling out a large bowl of stew which smelled amazing. I froze in place upon seeing her though as after her shower she had put on the same terry robe that she was wearing the last time I saw her. A feeling of dread passed over me as I wondered if this was some type of signal for me to tread lightly. Mom welcomed me to the table without the slightest look of trepidation on her face, so I hoped it was just a coincidence.

Dinner was awesome. The stew was warm and hearty, just the type of meal I love on a cool fall day. Mom sipped wine as we ate, and our conversation was as casual as ever. There certainly appeared to be no tension between us, to my great relief.

After eating we adjourned to the living room, where Mom wanted to show me something she'd found earlier that day. We sat aside one another on the couch as she broke out an old photo album with pictures from when Sarah and I were little. There were numerous pictures of my dad in there as well, but we glossed over them and instead focused on the three of us.

Mom's face seemed to have certain glow, as if the memories had warmed her heart. She truly was a lovely woman, and I found myself staring at her. She caught me and blushed slightly, but directed to conversation back to the photos, minimizing my embarrassment.

Following the last page of the album, Mom and I made small talk for a short time, but I had grown fidgety again and couldn't sit still. Seated so close to my mom was difficult as a big part of me wanted to just pull her into my arms and keep her safe from all the troubles she had recently been through. But there was another part of me too that wanted to pull her into my arms, but not to shield her from cares. No, the part of me that desired her was growing each day, and I just couldn't stop it. I decided it was time to leave and told her I had to be on my way.

As I attempted to get up, she grasped my wrist and asked something that stunned me, "Don't you want to see my new nightgown before you go?"

I had heard similar words from her in my darkest fantasies, but never imagined they would be uttered in anything other than a dream. Was this really happening? I stared at her in wonder for a moment, and could see a certain vulnerability in her eyes. It was almost as if she needed my validation that she really was an attractive woman. Somehow I muttered, "Um, yea, sure I do."

Slowly Mom rose from the sofa and stood before me. She looked really nervous, as she grasped the lapels of her flowing robe. Her cheeks went red as she said, "This isn't one of the really sexy ones, but I hoped you might like it on me." Very slowly, she pulled the robe off her shoulders and let it drop to the floor at her feet.

Mom was left standing in a pretty, but not very racy burgundy nightgown. The gown was cut with a bit of a V around the neckline, which gave just a touch of cleavage. It was surrounded by lace trim as was the bottom hem which stopped about two inches above the knee. There was also some type of stitching below the breasts, which drew the fabric in a bit more snuggly, but allowed the portion covering her boobs to remain somewhat loose. Overall I'd say she looked super cute, more so than super sexy.

"Well, what do you think?" she asked as she nervously shuffled her feet.

I could feel my face twist into a grin, as I responded, "Like I said before, adorable."

"You're not just saying that, are you?" she replied, her cheeks glowing a bit more crimson.

I felt terrible for mentioning his name afterwards, but uttered, "Dad must be gay if you couldn't excite him wearing that."

Mom just stared back at me with a warm smile and softly whispered, "Thank you, honey."

When I thought about my words, I became embarrassed once more. Did she assume that my seeing her in it excited me? It did, of course, but she didn't need to know that. Given everything that had happened of late, I figured it was best to just leave. I stood from the sofa and gave her a warm hug, and told her I had to be going. She walked me to the door, gave me a soft kiss on the lips and then sent me on my way.

As I drove I couldn't get the previous few minutes out of my head. I could still smell her subtle perfume from when I hugged her, and feel the silky fabric of her gown on my hands as I gently stroked her back. Her breasts pressed into my chest when we embraced, and I could sense the warmth between us. She looked so cute in the nightie, but even more so knowing how vulnerable she appeared standing before me, needing some type of positive feedback. I then realized my cock was as hard as a steel spike, thinking of my loving mother.

Unlike the last time I left her, she seemed so much more at peace with both herself and her situation. In fact, her impromptu fashion show appeared to pick her up a bit, which was wonderful to see. I really hoped that my visit had somehow made a positive impact or her, if only a minor one. It certainly made me feel better anyway.

As I lay in bed, Mom was all I could think about. My cock grew hard once more as I imaged her dancing around her bedroom in her nightie as she claimed she had done for my father. I could almost see her full chest bouncing as she shook to some unnamed song, her hips rocking side to side to the beat. Before I even knew what I was doing, my cock was in my hand and I stroked myself to visions of my lovely mother.

I then remembered her comment about doing something for my dad sexually that was not something she really enjoyed, and I pondered what it was. In my mind I just knew it had to be one of two things, either oral or anal. From the way she had brought it up, I assumed it was the latter. Suddenly I had a vision of Mom bent over as I moved in close behind her, slowly taking her ass in long, smooth strokes. I came with a shudder seconds later.

I desperately wanted to go by and see her the next evening, but my roommate Aaron and I had plans to host friends for Monday Night Football, and I just couldn't bail at that point. When I spoke with her on the phone Monday afternoon, she sounded more chipper than I had heard in weeks which made me feel much better. My work schedule was crazy, but I told her I wanted to see her again soon. She asked if Thursday would work, which was fine with me, so she said I was welcome for dinner. I didn't really want to wait that long to see her, but tried not to appear too over eager either.

That week was one of the longest in my life, as I couldn't stop thinking about my mother. I wondered what was going through her head when she stood before me in her nightgown, and what she may have thought since. I hoped she didn't think I was a pervert anyway.

When I arrived at her home Thursday as planned, I had a nervous energy I could barely contain. Mom answered the door for me and instantly gave me a big hug. She was dressed in a nice dark skirt, with a white button down shirt, and modest dark heels. Her face looked very cheery, certainly better than at any point that I had seen her since the news about her and my dad first broke, which pleased me to no end.

Dinner was great as usual, and Mom kept the conversation light. There was no mention of Dad, but she asked a lot of questions about me, how I was doing, etc. When I tried to ask the same about her, she quickly dodged the question with a, "Oh, don't you worry about me," and changed the subject. She did seem to bat an eye at me occasionally, but I figured it must just be wishful thinking on my part.

We both enjoyed a couple glasses of wine with our pasta, and I was feeling much more relaxed when we retired to the living room to rest after our meal. We sat in the same spots as during my previous visit, but I just couldn't take my eyes off her. Mom's skirt seemed to perfectly hug her hips, and tapered down slightly to really highlight her curves. Her blouse was open a couple buttons, drawing my eyes into the dark chasm between her lovely bosoms. I think she may have caught me checking out her chest at one point, but pretended not to notice.

We chatted for a couple hours, and I honestly could have stayed all night. I was about to call it an evening when she said, "I need to run to the restroom. I'll be back in one minute." Before I could just say goodnight, she was down the hall like a flash.

I waited for her for over five minutes, and began to wonder if she fell in or something. Just as I was about ready to check on her, I saw her round the corner, clad in her white terry robe. Instantly my pulse began to pound, wondering if I was in for another show.

Once again she stood before me, but this time looking far more confident in herself. A soft smile broke out across her face, and she said, "I know you need to get going, but I wanted to show you a recent purchase."

There was no way in hell I was leaving then, but tried to sound casual, "I'd love to see it, um, whatever it is."

She smiled deeper and almost whispered, "I think you'll like it." Her hands moved to her chest as she peeled back the robe, then let if fall to her feet just as she had done the previous time. My mom was now standing in a soft pink nightgown, which cascaded gently down from her shoulders to about mid-thigh. The top was a bit tighter than the last one, so I could just make out two small bumps atop her chest, clearly pointing out her nipples. The fabric rounded her hips nicely and left quite a bit of leg on display. While still cute, this number was certainly sexier than the last.

She must have seen the approval registered in my eyes, when she said, "I take it you like?"

"Wow, you look amazing!" I blurted out, unable to restrain myself.

She had a grin on her face so I knew she already knew the answer, but she asked, "You're not just being nice to your old mom, are you Jonathan?"

I felt like saying, "Come here and feel the throbbing in my groin and see for yourself," but instead said, "No way Mom, you look really beautiful."

Mom beamed and moved towards me, and plopped down onto the sofa beside me. We hugged again, and she whimpered in my ear, "I don't know what I'd do right now without you, sweetheart."

I almost felt like I was going to break out in tears at her words, but somehow managed to respond, "I'll always be here for you."

In almost a whisper, I heard, "I know you will, baby."

As we sat together, I gently let my hands wander to her back as I softly caressed her. She seemed content to sit with me all night, but I had to go. My body was on fire and I feared I might do something silly if I stayed too long. Once again Mom walked me to the door, and kissed me before I left. It lasted only a moment, but her lips were soft and wet on my own. I intentionally kept her a bit away from me as we hugged, fearing that she might feel my erection against her and possibly ruin an otherwise perfect evening. That night I stroked myself off to thoughts of our kiss, and what her pouty lips might feel like on other, more intimate parts of my body.

I spoke with Sarah from work the next day, and filled her in on the details I thought she needed to know. I told her Mom looked and acted much more positive, but I once again left out a few key items. There was no reason to let her know about the cleavage or the sexy pink nightie, not to mention Mom's subtly flirtatious behavior.

Sarah seemed to know a bit about my visit, and said, "I know, I spoke with Mom this morning. She said you've been really great to her."

I must admit I was curious about their conversation, but decided to downplay things. Very casually, I responded, "I haven't done anything special."

"You've been there for her and that's what she needs more than anything." After a pause, she added, "Just keep doing what you're doing." Clearly Sarah had no idea just what she was encouraging from me, but I was more than willing to keep doing exactly what I had been doing, and then some.

Later in the afternoon I called Mom as well, and she seemed truly excited to hear from me. Every now and then she would drop the tone of her voice into a sexy whisper. I didn't know if she was just trying to keep our conversation private from colleagues in her office or whether she was trying to tease me a bit. Either way, I loved it and shivers ran down my spine with almost every word.

I told her dinner was superb and thanked her thoroughly for a wonderful evening. She almost hissed, "It was my pleasure, sweetie," which made my cock throb. She then asked, "Do you want to come over for dinner on Sunday afternoon?"

Wild horses couldn't have dragged me away, so I eagerly accepted. As much as I love my sister and twin nephews, I was crushed when I heard, "Good, Sarah's bringing the boys as well. It'll be great to eat as a family again."

I tried to contain my disappointment when I responded, "Yea, sure will. So, I guess we'll see you Sunday."

When I was younger, Mom would make a big Sunday feast she'd serve around three in the afternoon. It was usually a roast or a ham, with plenty of fixings we could use as leftovers for a couple days. I assumed that was Mom's plan, so I arrived at her house at about 1:30, just in case. Honestly, I had hoped to beat my sister so I could spend some alone time with Mom, but she was already there.

It truly was a blast to play with the boys as I hadn't seen them in a while. We ran in the yard together for a long while as the ladies finished cooking, before we all settled down to an awesome meal. As I had expected, Mom prepared a roast which was perfectly cooked and melted in the mouth. After eating, we stayed at the table and chatted for a long time, enjoying one another's company.

Sarah finally left at about 6:00, while I tried to come up with a reason to stay. Mom solved that for me by saying, "Those kids must have worn you out, sweetie. You look exhausted. Why don't you go lie on the couch and watch football while I finish cleaning up in here."