A Firm Resolution

*****

My resolution lasted all of three days. I still stuck to the rituals I had put in place over the previous weeks, checking on Mom's outfits in the morning, and making sure she still put on a little effort when she 'dressed down' in the evenings. Every time a sensuous idea so much as entered my mind, I chastised myself -- and, in a gesture that in retrospect was rather ridiculous, I made a point to remain rather conservatively dressed when around her: I picked my baggiest trunks, put on running track pants and large t-shirts, and avoided anything that could be seen as any invitation on my part. I guess Mom did notice that something was a little off, asking me if I was okay, but I pretended I had caught some bug that was going around at the University.

Of course, I had also refrained from jerking off, and I guess that was my downfall. You can't fight hormones, and by the end of that third day, I was extremely horny and frustrated at the same time. Lying on my bed that night, I thought back on that Sunday afternoon. And of course, my conclusions on the matter ended up being much different than the one I had come to before. For sure, my behavior had been less than respectable, but I was now puzzling over Mom's. She could well have refused from the start, or maybe decided to change into something more appropriate right away. But no, she had played along with me, without shying away at any point. And if her outfits of these past days were any indication, she seemed to enjoy dressing up sexily for me. I slept badly that night.

The following day was very busy for me, and I didn't have much time to reflect on the situation. But that evening, I decided I had had a full recovery from the imaginary bug, and got back to my usual choice of underwear: the tight boxers were out again. Mom seemed to be smiling more than usual, but I couldn't decide if that had anything to do with me -- though my over-active imagination certainly loved the idea. I also put an end to my short-lived abstinence, finally accepting the intrusion of my mother in my fantasies.

Friday was lighter, especially since one of our professors was on sick leave, which meant that I had most of the afternoon free. On the way back from the University, I decided to stop by the mall and headed to the lingerie store where we had gotten the crotchless panties. The young clerk who had helped us recognized me, and enthusiastically guided me after listening to what I was looking for. Again, her suggestions were more daring than what I would have considered, but her argument was that my 'lady friend' had incredible breasts, and that she should better flaunt them than hide them. Considering the clerk herself was rather flat in the chest department, there must have been a hint of envy there...

I came out of the store with a little white bag, full of lacy things: two crotchless boxer shorts (one black, one red), one white G-string open in the front with a single teardrop pearl dangling, a black corset (which left most of the breasts uncovered) and a red see-through bodice with spaghetti straps that didn't cover the breasts at all. I felt strangely elated (and nervous) on the way back home. Mom hadn't come back yet, so I put the bag on the table of the living-room, and grabbed myself a soda.

I was checking the news on my tablet when I heard the front door open. Mom was surprised to see I was home already, and came to the living-room door.

"Hey baby, how come you're back so early?"

"One of our lectures got cancelled."

"Oh, okay..." She noticed the bag on the table and her eyes opened wide. "Wh- what's this?"

"That? Oh, I had a little time, so I did some shopping on the way back. Open it, it's for you..."

"For me? Baby, you shouldn't have..."

She picked up the bag, and looked inside. She blushed.

"That's from the store we went to the other time, remember?" I said, casually. She nodded. "I picked a few things for you, I hope you'll like them... Go ahead, try them on..." I smiled, encouragingly. Inside, my heart was beating like crazy, and part of me was nearly panicking at the enormity of what I was doing. But I was ready to take that chance.

Mom hesitated, then seemed to make up her mind. "Okay, give me a minute", she said softly, before going upstairs to change.

What followed were probably the longest ten minutes of my life. Finally, I heard her footsteps as she walked into the room. My heart skipped a beat. Mom had put on the black (crotchless) boxers and the black corset, and she was an incredible sight. Her breasts were nearly spilling out and there was a hint of nipple showing -- let's be honest, she was pure sex. I gathered my wits, and beamed at her.

"Wow, Mom, you look great!"

She blushed, looked at her feet, then graced me with a little smile and playfully spun before me. I clapped, and she giggled. Still pleasantly flushed, she sat down across me. I couldn't take my eyes off of her, and my cock was making a little tent in my own boxer shorts. I noticed her glancing at it, which was just fine by me. I guess I was now at peace with the strange urges and desires that were coursing through me, and I accepted them -- or better: I embraced them.

This is why I made it a point to behave as normally as was possible. We got dinner ready, we ate dinner, we cleaned the kitchen table then went to the living room to watch the news... all with Mom in her sexy outfit, and me sporting a raging hard-on. I eventually called it a night and went upstairs to my room -- taking the opportunity to relieve the pent-up tension of the day. And this time, I didn't have any problem finding sleep.

*****

I didn't see much of Mom on Saturday. I woke up rather late, and had a few errands to run before I was to meet with a group of friends early evening. Mom went out to do some shopping of her own, which means we just bumped into each other around noon, as I was making myself a sandwich in the kitchen. She seemed to be in a good mood, and was nicely dressed (with just the right touch of make-up) -- the days of her lumbering around the house in sweatpants were something of the past. I left her with a kiss on the cheek, and headed out.

I certainly wasn't expecting my evening to go so wrong. A friend was celebrating his birthday with a party at his place (inviting only his closest pals), and we were all looking forward to having a good time. It had started on a high note, thanks to a few bottles of tequila someone had brought back from a trip across the border, until (probably because of said tequila) the birthday boy had managed to smash a glass against the corner of the kitchen table, cutting himself so deeply that he had to be rushed to the ER by one of his (sober) neighbors. Now devoid of its main attraction, the party soon deflated and we all scattered back to our respective places. Luckily enough, it was only a short walk for me -- I was in no condition to drive.

All in all, it was only slightly after nine that I got back home. I closed the front door a little forcefully, and Mom came hurriedly from the living room to enquire.

"Oh, it's you? What happened, I wasn't expecting you this early..."

I shook my head, annoyed, and quickly summed up the events of the evening. She looked genuinely sorry for me, but for some reason, that didn't help. I was still feeling the buzz of the alcohol, and that only exacerbated my frustration with the way things had turned out. Noticing that Mom was wearing some old, shapeless pajamas, I suddenly changed the subject.

"What is up with that, Mom? I go out for one evening, and here you are, slipping back into your old habits? I'm disappointed..." I said, shaking my head.

Mom tried to explain: "Well, baby, you weren't there, so I thought..."

"No, Mom, you didn't think. You're not doing this for me, remember, you're doing this for yourself. There shouldn't be an evening off for that. You hear me?"

Sheepishly, she let out a "yes" that was close to a whisper.

"So what are you waiting for?"

She looked at me, blinking.

"Go change right away!" I snapped, and she nodded and hurriedly went upstairs.

I went to the kitchen and grabbed a beer, and headed back to the living room. A few minutes later, Mom appeared in the doorway. I looked up and motioned for her to come closer. She had on a black tank top which was half-lace (the straps and the topmost part) and half-silky material; a pair of rather plain black panties; and black thigh high stockings. I carefully inspected her outfit, and then gave my verdict in a stern voice.

"That's better. I like the stockings -- did you have those before? I don't remember them..."

She blushed. "No, I... I bought them today. I thought you might like that, and..."

"Yeah, they are nice. Don't like those panties, though. They should have gone with the others, when we cleaned out your closet. (I shook my head) Mom, they have to go."

She nodded. "Okay, baby, I will..."

"Mom -- now."

She started, then nodded and turned towards the stairs. I stopped her.

"No Mom -- I said now."

"Wh- what do you mean? I can't..."

I looked at her sternly, and she quickly dropped her eyes.

"Do I have to repeat myself?" I asked, and she shook her head. Then slowly, she pulled down her panties, and took them off.

"Give them to me", I asked, and timidly, she did. I gave her the once over again -- finding this sight definitely to my taste. I noticed with curiosity that her nipples were pointing through the thin fabric of her tank top, and (combined with my rather drunken state) that probably played a part in what happened next.

"That's much better, Mom... Much better..." I nodded enthusiastically, and she blushed again. I saw her eyes dart to my crotch, and realized that since I was still fully dressed, there was no way for her to actually see my... 'appreciation'. To be honest, I was definitely past my usual alcohol limit, and that line of reasoning felt just right at the time. And, encouraged by the alcohol, I decided to act on it.

"Yeah, it's very nice, Mom... and let me show you how nice..." I said, standing up and quickly undoing the buttons of my pants, and then pulling them down along with my trunks... letting my hard cock pop out. I think I caught Mom by surprise, and for a moment it seemed that she didn't really know how to react. There was a long pause, us both standing, and Mom staring at my cock, transfixed. I was the one who broke the spell, sitting back on the sofa, and telling her to come sit next to me. When she did, I put my arm around her and got her to come closer and put her head on my shoulder.

We stayed like that for a long time, pretending to be watching some stupid TV show that was playing. I know my head was buzzing with all those strange sensations -- Mom's body pressing against me, her smell, the contact of her bare skin on her hip (where my arm was)... and the thrill of being exposed and hard only exacerbated by the furtive looks she kept casting at it. But even all this wasn't enough to prevent me from dozing off soon. Mom woke me by shaking me softly, her hand on the top of my thigh -- oh-so-close to my still erect cock.

"Baby, you'd better go to bed...", she smiled kindly.

I shook my head, looked around, and reluctantly accepted her advice. I stood up and stretched, then hastily pulled up my pants with one hand. Mom stood up too and gave me a hug, which I mechanically returned. It's only when I got to my room that I realized how hot the scene might have looked.

*****

Coming as no surprise, I didn't get a good night's sleep, and yet it was rather late when I woke up, with my head pounding and a bad taste in my mouth. But today was Sunday, and I had a date I was definitely looking forward to. I took a shower and got ready for our brunch, and when I got downstairs slightly after 11:30, Mom was waiting for me, all dressed up with a long skirt and a rather tight-fitting blouse. I offered her my arm, and we were off.

There was something of a nice ritual to this shared moment -- and the fact that the staff recognized and greeted us only reinforced it. We had a quiet table away from the main dining area, which suited us just fine. Mom was in a great mood, and opened the conversation right after the waiter was gone with our orders.

"Do you know how Jake is doing?"

I nodded. "He's sort of okay. They put half a dozen stitches on his hand, and he was pretty out because of the painkillers they've given him, but from what I gather he was lucky."

"Oh, good."

"Yeah, I guess this wasn't much of a birthday to remember for him, though."

"He'll probably laugh about it in a few years, you'll see."

"You're probably right..."

"And I was glad we got to spend a part of the evening together too..."

I was startled -- I hadn't decided if I wanted to talk about what had happened the previous night, and here Mom was casually talking about it. I hesitated, then tried to reply with the same relaxed tone.

"Uh-huh. And well, I want to apologize if I was a little harsh with you yesterday. I had drunk a little too much, and..."

"No, baby, that's okay. You were right, and I deserved it. And I don't think I've told you before, but I really appreciate you helping me with those things. I know I still have a lot to learn..."

I took a deep breath. What I had just heard had sent my pulse racing, and even if I thought I had understood what Mom meant with that, there was still an inkling of a doubt... so I replied carefully.

"You've made a lot of progress already, you know. Especially over those past few days..."

She nodded enthusiastically. "I know, I know. It feels as if I'm finding my way now, and I'm really glad you're helping me, and encouraging me..."

"That's good. I was a little hesitant about some of the things I've gotten for you..."

"Oh baby, they're lovely! All of them... can't wait to be able to put them on for you..."

I smiled. "Me too. And well, I'll try and let you know how nice I think they are..."

She giggled. "Oh yes, I'd love that too..."

I was about to reply, when the waiter interrupted us by bringing our plates. We started eating, and the conversation moved to other topics. But that strange tension remained hanging between us, and contrary to what had been our habit until then, we didn't linger much. There was something of an urgency to get home, and I had to muster all the self-control I could to avoid speeding on the way back.

In the entrance, Mom hung her coat and looking playfully at me, telling me she was going to change into something more relaxed. I went up to my room and did the same, quickly coming downstairs wearing only a t-shirt and one of the boxer shorts that opened in the front. I poured myself a glass of wine (which I drained right away) and filled another. Then, to kill time, I prepared a little bowl of ice-cream -- since in our hurry to get back home, we had both skipped dessert. I was nearly done when Mom joined me in the kitchen. She was wearing the red one-piece I had chosen for her. It was a transparent thing with spaghetti straps that left the breasts uncovered -- and Mom's were just majestic.

My head buzzing with excitement and tipsy because of the hastily-drunk wine, I took a few steps back, resting around the kitchen counter, motioning her to turn around, and I carefully looked at her. I took my time, and she started fidgeting.

"You... you don't like it, baby?" she asked, worried.

To be honest, I don't know what led me to do what I did next -- I can only offer the alcohol as a reason, but maybe even I don't entirely buy it. Maybe there was some deeper motive at work there, but the result was the same. As my only answer, I undid the button in the front of my boxers, and I let my erect cock pop out of the opening. Mom immediately smiled, looking directly (and unashamedly) at it, biting her lower lip, her nipples suddenly hardening. I gave my cock a slow pull, and she giggled, blushing. I smiled at her.

"Well, Mom, I love it... as you sure can see", I winked.

"You don't think it's a little... slutty, maybe?"

"No... it would be, if you were to wear that out. But since it's for wearing at home, it's just the right amount of sexy that I like."

She smiled, again looking at my cock and licking her lips.

"What is it, Mom?" I asked.

She giggled. "I just think that you look... very yummy..." She blushed.

I chuckled. "Oh right, we didn't get you any dessert today." She looked up at me, hopeful -- but I continued. "Here's some ice-cream, Mom." I picked up the bowl from the table, and handed it to her. She accepted without much enthusiasm, and I added. "Oh, but what was I thinking? I forgot the topping..." I stepped closer, and started jerking off. Mom's eyes widened, and then she bit her lower lip again, staring at my hand on my cock. "Mom, careful where you're holding it..." She looked at me, confused. "The bowl!" I told her, and she hurriedly positioned it in front of me. I knew I wouldn't be long -- the accumulated tension of those past days, combined with that acknowledgment of what was happening between us, all that had me on edge in no time. And soon I was cumming all over the little bowl, with a few strands hitting Mom's hand in the process. I milked the last drops from my cock, and then nodded to indicate Mom I was done.

"That's better," I said, satisfied and anxious to see how she was going to react. She sat down on a chair, licked the cum off her hand, smiled at me, and taking a spoon, started eating her cum-covered ice-cream. She looked so incredibly hot at that time that I couldn't resist -- I took a few steps towards her and holding my softening cock, pushed it against her lips. She moaned and opened her mouth, her cold tongue flickering around the head. I stepped back, sitting on the edge of the table. She looked at me, biting her lower lip with a mischievous look on her face, then went back to eating her ice-cream, taking her time. I put a hand on one of her exposed breasts, enjoying its fullness and playing with the hard nipple. Mom moaned softly, closing her eyes.

We stayed like that a long time, enjoying this newfound closeness. Strangely enough, I didn't feel that there was anything openly sexual about it -- or not much. Sure, we were both nearly naked, and Mom was eating my cum with a spoon, but it was about being together, and sharing something of a very intimate moment. She finished her ice cream, making sure she didn't waste a single drop, and let out a satisfied sigh. I smiled at her, gave her a chaste kiss on the forehead, and stood up. I readjusted my soft cock in my boxers, fastened the button, and left.

*****

One would imagine that, from that point on, things became clear and obvious, and that now that we had taken that first step, Mom and I were having sex like crazy on a daily basis. But this is only the way it happens in porn stories -- reality is often a much messier affair. Things had changed between us, that's for sure. But I wasn't really sure how, and I certainly had no idea of what would happen next. After the moment of elation, brought on by that shared moment of sensuality, came the questions and the doubts.

Over the past three days, I had stumbled more or less blindly, progressing towards something I still didn't know whether I really wanted to come true. It was one thing to fantasize about your own mother, but it was another altogether to actually act on it. For me, it was a case of "too fast, too soon". I guess I still needed to find a way to wrap my head around the whole idea, as well as processing the signs that Mom had been giving me. Don't misunderstand me: I knew what the signs meant, it's just that I wasn't sure of their significance.

So I spent most of that Sunday afternoon in my room, sitting on my bed with my head in my hands, trying to make sense of all these conflicting ideas and emotions. Dinner was also very quiet -- I barely talked and much less looked at Mom, who was probably a bit confused by this change in my demeanor. Thankfully, as had been the case the previous weekend, Mom had taken a bath in the afternoon and was wrapped in her silky robe. I'm not sure how I could have handled her in a more revealing outfit.