Mom's Visit Makes It All Better

I had been through a rough divorce.

During my marriage, my now ex-wife had ensured that I had not been in touch with my family. Trying to talk to them was always good for a fight, and after a few years, I had given up trying. It was hard enough just to keep her from picking fights the rest of the time, let alone when she had an obvious provocation like me talking to my "evil" mother and father.

So now, after several years, my mother was flying into town to visit me.

She had urged me not to pick her up at the airport, and so it was with much nervousness that I waited alone in my small apartment. The minutes ticked by slowly, and I got up and paced the floor, sat, then paced again.

Just as I was preparing to call her on my cell phone, there was a knock at the door. I ran my fingers through my hair, walked to the door, and pulled it open.

There she stood. My mother. She had aged in the last seven years, and her hair had silver in it where there was none in my memory. Her breasts sagged lower than they used to, and her stomach had gotten bigger. She had always been full-bodied, but now she was even plumper.

But her eyes were the same. They sparkled with joy at seeing me, and I felt a hot stinging in my own. I stepped toward her as she stepped through the door and we hugged.

How nice it was to hug someone who didn't have anything to hide, who didn't have a plan for whether I would be allowed to have a real hug or an artificial one. No. This was just my mom. A warm, soft hug, and I buried my face in her neck and clung on for dear life. I buried myself in the pillowy softness of her comforting body.

She hugged me right back, her body pressing against mine, stomach to stomach, her chest squished against mine, and we stayed like that for a long time. Then she pulled her head back, and gave me a kiss. Right on my lips.

It was wierd. I had never kissed her on the lips before, and I started to pull back, but then somewhere inside myself I shrugged and instead kissed her back. It wasn't a sexual kiss, just a warm pressing of lips upon lips, and hers were soft and yielding and pliant. After a second we stopped.

She lifted her hands to cup my face, and then said, "Hello, baby." Tears formed at the corner of her eyes, but didn't fall. Instead she just smiled at me.

"Hi, mom," I replied. "Come in."

I stepped aside and she brushed past me. I leaned out of the door and picked up the two suitcases which had been sitting on the deck behind her.

"Damn, mom," I said over my shoulder. "What do you have in here, rocks?"

She laughed.

"How in the heck did you get them up here," I asked.

"Oh, the cab driver was kind enough to carry them up here for me for a ten-dollar tip."

I carried the suitcases into the apartment and headed to the bedroom.

"You were robbed," I said. "You should have called me."

She followed me into the bedroom, where I was placing the suitcases on the dresser. "I wanted to surprise you," she replied.

"Well, you did." I turned to face her. She was wearing casual traveling clothes, batikked sweatpants and a t-shirt.

She looked back at me, her eyes traveling down my body and then back up to my face. "You look great," she stated.

I looked self-consciously down at my body. "Yea, I lost a lot of weight in the last few months."

She smiled.

I paused, then said, "You look great, too." I meant it, too. She may have been round, but to me she was the essence of motherhood, and her lush body was perfect for her.

She laughed."Yea, right."

"Seriously."

She put her arms out, causing her breasts to lift up under her shirt, and then she brought her hands toward her chest, then outlined an exaggerated hourglass shape down her body. "You really think this old lady is okay?"

"Mom," I said with mock exasperation in my voice, "Yes. You look fantastic."

She laughed again. "Well, thanks, kiddo."

"I'm not so much of a kiddo myself, mom. Look." I pointed to my temple where the first few silver hairs were showing.

She squinted her eyes and leaned closer and made a big show of inspecting my hair, gently pulling tufts away from my scalp. For some reason her touch sent a shiver down my spine, and I swayed a little, and ended up leaning against her a little, my elbow pushing against her breast and my chin against her forehead.

She didn't move away, just stopped touching my head, and said, "What am I looking for?"

I laughed and stood straight. "My gray hairs."

"Oh, my baby has become a man," she teased.

"I'm glad you're here," I confessed after a short silence.

"Me too," she confided.

I turned her around and gently pushed her out of the door of the bedroom and into the hall. "Do you want anything after your trip?" I asked. "Some tea or water? Or something to eat?"

"I'd just like to freshen up a bit and change my clothes. And then I'd like to take you out to dinner."

"Sure mom, that would be nice."

She pushed past me into the bedroom and then I heard her say, "I'll be out in a few minutes."

I went into the living room and sat down at the computer to check my email.

***

Mom sure was taking a while. I was browsing a dating website when I felt a presence behind me. I breathed in, and I could smell my mother's scent, and for a moment I felt utterly safe and loved. I felt her hands on my shoulder, and she asked, "What's this?"

"It's a dating website, mom," I explained. "It's like personal ads except you can put a lot more information about yourself, add photos, and then email back and forth before you meet."

She looked at the list of girls I had searched up, and then she said, "Well, it's good to see you're back on the horse."

"Haven't found anyone yet, though," I said.

"You will, honey. Don't worry."

I closed the browser and then stood up and turned around. My mother had brushed her hair and clipped it behind her, leaving her thick black and silver curls cascading down her back. She had applied a soft dusky lipstick, and was wearing a one-piece shapeless dress printed with primitive woodcut designs. It somehow de-emphasized her roundness.

"Nice job. You clean up pretty good," I said.

"Thanks. Now where would you like to eat?"

"There's a great place up the street."

"Can we walk?"

"Absolutely."

We left the apartment and I locked the door. As we walked toward the landing, my mother stopped me and gave me a unselfconscious sideways hug, her body turned perpendicular to mine so that as she hugged me, my right arm was enveloped in the deep valley between her breasts. "It's so nice," she said fervently, "to have my baby boy back in my arms again." She pulled harder pulling me deep against her so that her breasts pushed around my arm and against my chest and back.

"That's odd," I thought to myself. "She's not wearing a bra."

She sobbed once, and continued to hug me, pressing herself tightly against me.

"Aw, ma," I said. "It'll be okay. I'm not going anywhere now." I turned in the circle of her arms, my right arm pushing one big soft boob up and toward her side as I did. As I faced her, my arm moved far enough that her breast fell back against her again, and the feel of it flopping against my chest made me feel- I don't know- wierd. "It's nice to have you back, mom," I continued, and I put my arms around her, my hands falling to the small of her back.

It did feel good to be there with my mom again, and so I pulled her against me, not really feeling how her tits were mushed against my chest, or how the curve of her chubby waist was just perfect for my arms to rest against her. Instead I was just feeling a great love for this woman, who I didn't know as an adult, but who raised me and fed me and took care of me when I was young. We stood there for a long time, just hugging each other, pressing our bodies more and more firmly together, until with a sudden horror I realized that the long-forgotten feel of a woman in my arms was stimulating me. I could feel the blood pooling at the base of my penis, and the slow but urgent beginning of a swelling erection.

I tried to pull out of the embrace, but my mom was reluctant to let go, and so I continued to hug her with mounting unease, yet still oddly comfortable. I had read in one of the relationship books with which I post-mortemed my marriage that when someone wants a hug, you should let them be the one to break it. So I kept hugging my mom, and she kept hugging me, and all that time I could feel the slow stirrings of my cock. I could feel it filling with blood, and as it lengthened and hardened, I felt it inch down my pants. With the way that my mother and I were pressed together, there was no way she couldn't be feeling it, yet she said nothing, made no reaction at all as my betraying cock hardened between us.

I was uncomfortably aware of my mother's body in a way that I hadn't been moments ago. Her heavy tits were pushed up against my chest and I could feel her big nipples pressing into me. My arms were resting on her waist, and my hands were right above her ass cheeks at the base of her back. Her breath was warm and soft on my neck, and I felt the tiny hairs there rise up in an atavistic response.

This was crazy. My mom was getting me hot. "God, how desperate I must be," I thought to myself, "that my own mother can excite me."

An image flashed into my head. A night when a twelve-year-old boy had been awakened by strange sounds in the living room and gone padding on silent feet to see what was there. Another flash. My mother, years younger, head thrown back as a bearded man, her boyfriend, suckled on her swollen breast. His fingers. Flash. Touching her thing. Pushing into her thing, my mom making those stange moans which had woken me. Her eyes opening. Widening. Looking at mine. Frozen moment. My mom smiling, mouthing the words, "go back to bed." Her boob bouncing, the massive brown circle around the dark brown nipple-tip. Flash. Turn. Flash.

As I remembered that long ago night, I remembered how that image had fueled my very first masturbatory fantasies, and helplessly, my cock throbbed once. I knew my mom had to have felt that, but she just pulled me tighter against her.

"My baby," she sighed. She squeezed me once tightly and then let go.

I was breathing heavily, and I knew my cheeks had to be flushed. I was embarrassed by my body's reaction and I couldn't understand why my mother had not reacted at all. When I finally looked I her, I saw her cheeks were red too. But she smiled brightly at me and took my hand and we walked on down the deck toward dinner.

***

When we got back from dinner, I suggested a movie. Mom seemed to like the idea, but wanted to change first to get comfortable. I agreed, and quickly grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt and went into the bathroom to change.

"You decent?" I called out when I finished changing.

"Sure am," she replied, and I came out of the bathroom to find my mother in a blue terrycloth robe. It was old, and faded, and even as I realized it must have been the same one she always used to wear when I was a teenager, I realized that she hadn't tied it up yet. She must have forgotten, because as she turned to face me, it swung open for just a second, and I got a momentary glimpse of one big sagging breast before it fell closed again. I felt my cheeks start to get hot again.

"Oops," she said cheerily. She picked up the ties dangling at her sides and tied the robe closed.

"Come on," I said, to cover the awkwardness, and I grabbed her hand and led her into the living room. "Do you care what we watch?"

"Pick something good, that's all," she replied.

"Oh brother. What a vague request."

She laughed.

I picked out a comedy I liked and put the DVD into the player. I turned off the lights, and then pulled a throw blanket from under the end table. We sat on the couch, our sides touching, and I lifted the blanket and spread it over our knees.

The movie was a good one, and we laughed for the next half hour.

Suddenly mom turned to me and said, "I just want you to know that this feels really good, being here with you. With my baby boy." She put her head on my shoulder.

I don't know what happened in my head, but I just blurted out, "I'd like a motherly hug, mom."

"Ohhhh," she cooed, and she lifted her right arm and put it behind me. "Come here, my baby boy."

It felt really wierd doing this, and yet every nerve in my body was on fire. It was gross, and yet it was beautiful. It felt so right as long as I didn't think about what I was doing. I leaned in toward her, and my mother put her arm over my shoulder and drew my head down to her chest.

"Oh Mommy," I sighed as my face was pressed against the terrycloth of her robe. I could feel the gentle swell of her boob underneath my chin, and I put my right arm around her stomach and slid my left arm behind her so that I was encircling her plump body. My right hand was on her side at her waist, and she lifted her left hand and stroked the back of my head.

"It's okay, baby," she said comfortingly. "It's okay, baby boy. Mommy's here. It's okay." She kept repeating those kinds of things as she ran her fingers through my hair and her right hand patted me gently on my back. I turned my head a little so that my left cheek was against her chest pushing into the pudding-like softness of her breast, and I began to rub my right hand back and forth on her waist, moving it in small circles over her stomach, and then pulling softly but firmly on her lower back with the other. Her breathing got heavier, and her fingers tightened on the back of my head, pulling it forward just a little. As she did, her robe gaped open a little in front, and I realized that I could see into her robe. That I could see the rounded top of her other breast. My fingers tightened on her back and I pulled against her, snuggling into her.

"Oh, Mom," I murmured. "Oh, Mom."

"Shhhhh," she urged, and she moved her right hand in circles on my back. She leaned down and kissed the top of my head, and then her left hand pulled my head more tightly against her. As she did, my head slid forward, until my mouth and nose were touching the vertical hem of her robe. She continued rubbing my head, and as she did, I pulled my right hand back until it was moving around over her stomach, and I began to make larger circles with it, moving my palm all the way down to where her stomach bent in toward her groin, and then back up until on one pass I felt a heavy pressure against my thumb, and I knew I had touched the base of her left breast.

This was crazy! What was I doing? My conscious mind reasserted itself suddenly and I wanted to pull away. This was so wrong. But I was getting turned on, and my hunger for a loving touch overrode that shamed part of myself, and I snuggled myself even more tightly up to my mother, smoothing my right hand up over her stomach until I could feel it pushing the robe itself up underneath her heavy tit. My mother gasped then.

"Oh, baby boy. My baby boy," she said, and her arm tightened on my back and her fingers splayed themselves across the back of my head, and she pulled my head down even more. I turned my face to the left slightly as she did so, and my nose pushed inside the dark folds of her robe and then the hem slid over my cheek and I was in darkness. I could dimly and blurrily see my mother's tit just in front of my face, and then the other hem of her robe slid underneath my left cheek and the left side of my face was suddenly pressed against the bare flesh between her massive, sagging tits. My cock hardened instantly. "It's okay, baby," she burbled. "Mommy has you. Mommy's here, baby."

I pulled her against me with my left arm, and my face moved slightly forward until my lips and nose were just barely touching the soft skin of her boob. "Oh, Mommy," I moaned, "I love you."

"Oh baby, I love you too."

My right hand seemed to have a life of its own. This entire time it had been moving down over her stomach, and then down to her waist, then around out over her wide hip, then over her plump thigh, and back up the stomach until I was almost but not quite cupping the curve of her breast in my hand, and then down again. Over and over in one big circle of heat and love and touch.

I paused for a second, feeling the last cry of my worried mind fade, and then I slid my right hand down my mother's hip until it was cupped almost on her butt, and then I pulled her against me as I snuggled toward her, and then my lips touched her breast and a fire shot through me.

"Oh baby," my mother murmured, and she shivered. Her fingers tightened against the back of my head, and then, as we hugged each other tightly on the couch, both of us stopped all our movement. Her hand continued to exert pressure with her fingers on the back of my head, and my face slowly pushed harder and harder against the puddingy softness of her breast. She was breathing very heavily now, and as we stayed frozen in our mother-son cuddle, her hand continued to draw my lips and face inexorably across her heavy tit.

Slowly, slowly, millimeter by millimeter, my lips moved over her soft, motherly tit-flesh. I heard a loud laugh from the now-forgotten television set. Still more slowly. It was the most exquisitely tantalizing feeling I had ever felt in my life. My own lips pressed against the warm smooth satin of my mother's boob. I wanted this moment to progress. I wanted it to last forever. I wanted it to end. My cock was more rigid than it had ever been in my life, and it throbbed in time with my heartbeat.

My mother pulled again, and I could feel the smooth skin touching my lips slowly become more and more rough. Bumpy. Pebbly. I realized that my lips were now on her aureole. The hem of her robe fell away from my eyes as the robe was pushed off of her shoulder, but it still covered my cheek and mouth.

"Oh, my baby," my mom said in a voice so soft I could barely hear her. "Oh, my baby boy. Oh, yes. Oh, yes, my baby boy."

As she murmured comfortingly down at me, I felt something stiff pushing against my lips. With a shock I realized it was my mom's nipple. As she continued to pressure my head against her tit, I slowly felt the cherry-sized knob of flesh push against the corner of my mouth, and then between my lips, forcing them to open slightly, and then more widely as my mom pulled my head against her chest and the stiff nub moved into the center of my mouth.

"Oh, yes," she sighed softly. She began to rub the back of my head gently, in small circles. "Oh, yes, baby. Oh yes, my baby. Mommy has you."

Unbelievingly, I gave the barest suck at this strange lump of flesh in my mouth. My mind was doing backflips and as I consciously realized that my mother's tit was in my mouth, my left hand pulled urgently at the base of my mother's back, and my right hand pulled at her butt, and she moaned slightly as I pulled her against me. I sucked again, and my mom moaned very softly, then continued with her simple mantra.

"Oh, yes. Oh, yes. Oh, baby. Oh yes."

I sucked a little more firmly now, bringing my tongue forward to touch the rough nubbin of flesh I held between my lips. My mother shivered again, and then pushed her chest forward against me while pulling on the back of my head, and my mouth opened wide and I felt my lips touching the edge of her aureole, and I gently sucked in a massive mouthful of mother-tit while my tongue continued gently touching her large nipple. Mom's right hand began to move over my back, pulling and pushing at my shoulder, but her other hand just held me there lovingly against her breast, holding me to her sagging, meaty boob as I sucked and licked at her warm flesh. I was pulling her against me with both my left and right hands, and her legs opened a little as I lifted her left hip up with the force I was exerting.

I moaned into her hot tit-flesh, and Mom gasped. "Oh baby, oh baby, oh baby," she repeated over and over as her hand ran over my shoulders and her other hand pulled me rythmically against her. I sucked at her tit, an indescribable feeling sweeping me away, the love I felt for my mom mixing uneasily with the massive desire I felt building up inside me and the shame I still felt in the back of my mind for even being in this awkward position.