A Mother's FrustrationbyOedipus_Dreams©
**** All characters in this story are 18 years of age or older. An original work of fiction by Oedipus_Dream © 2012 ****
My name is John White, I'm 19, and I live at home with my parents. I decided not to go to school after high school, and not surprisingly, to my father's dismay. At the end of the day though, he's not paying any tuition bills, so he doesn't really care. Robert White, my father, is an accountant for a multi-billion dollar company, and his work is his only love. My mother, Allison White, doesn't work, even though she has a BA in literature. My father always believed she had no need to work; he was the provider.
So from the outside looking in, I'm an average 19 year old male, living in an average American household in generic suburbia USA. Perfectly average and standard and boring...
Except not everything is as it seems, and when you look deep enough, no family is average. They all have their own share of dark secrets and twisted realities.
This is the story of the secrets behind our "average" American family. It's a story of love and lust and uncertainty... a story about the pursuit of forbidden fruit. Just another one of the countless tales that remind us, that everything... is not always as it appears.
It was a cold and rainy fall night. The kind of night where the wind just cuts right through you and everything's turned a different shade of gray. I was sitting at the kitchen table eating dinner with my parents and it was an unusually quiet night. I sat there looking out the window, watching dead leaves swirl and trees sway as the wind blew. Nothing looked alive. Even the dreariness of such a lifeless day didn't explain the tension that had filled the air though.
It hadn't been the first time, but that night was the most noticeably tense. My parents were never really happy together. They were night and day and always had been, but for the past few weeks, they seemed more distant from each other than ever. They'd never seemed quite right for each other but always seemed to make it work, until recently at least.
My father was an accountant for a Fortune 500 company and engulfed himself with his work. He traveled frequently as a result. He was a reserved, dry man with no sense of humor. To him the world was black or white. Even as a kid I can remember asking my mom why dad never liked to play. "He's just busy with work sweetie." was the standard response she gave me. Needless to say I was never close with my father, and any closeness there was, dissolved as I grew older.
My mother on the other hand though, was much different. She was an outgoing, friendly, kind, open-minded woman who wanted to make everyone happy. She was an intelligent woman too, and had a degree in communications. She worked for a little while before she met my father. She always chose to be a stay at home mom once I came around. She was literally the polar opposite of my father, and I never understood how they came to marry in the first place.
The past few weeks though, something seemed to be driving a wedge between them. Actually, it'd be more accurate to say something had been bothering my mother, and she grew more upset the longer my dad failed notice. I asked her several times about what was wrong, but she wouldn't let on to anything.
We sat and ate dinner in silence, a silence that had filled the air and was debilitating. It was deafening, and the longer we all sat there eating and pretending not to hear it, the louder it got. I watched the wind blow the trees around outside and thought about the tension building in my household. I knew I had to talk to my mother about it. I waited until dinner was over and decided to get to the point.
"Just leave them on the counter babe, I'll take care of them." My mother said as I took my plate towards the sink. She was putting the salt and pepper back in the cabinet.
"No, I'll help with the dishes tonight mom." I said
"Thanks John, but you don't have to; I know it's your least favorite chore." My mother spoke with weariness in her voice. It was a tone that sounded like frustration giving way to acceptance, the sound of woman becoming too tired to fight.
"No, I want to help." I said. "...seriously."
My mother paused for a second and looked sideways over in my direction. A sad smile came across her face and for a second I thought she was going to start crying. "Thank you sweetie, you're so helpful."
I didn't want to beat around the bush though, so I put the plate down on the counter and turned towards my mother.
"Mom... what's wrong? And please don't say 'nothing' again, because clearly you're upset and have been for a while now. You've been really quiet and you and dad are hardly talking. So seriously, what's up?" I asked. I expected her to try and persuade me again that she was fine, but it seemed that she couldn't hide it anymore. She looked down towards the floor as a single tear fell down her cheek.
"It's just... your father and I... I don't know John." She started. I could tell she was trying to keep herself under control. "We seem so far apart at times. I've felt so lonely recently, and he doesn't seem to pay my any notice no matter how upset I am." I watched her wipe her teary eyes, and I was suddenly quite sad seeing her like this.
"He doesn't even notice anymore" she continued. "He seems bored with me. There was a time where he made me feel pretty and loved and now..." she stammered off. She wiped her eyes again and collected herself. "O, I'm sorry John, you don't want to hear this." she said as she reached up and closed the cabinet above her.
I put my hand on the small of her back and simply said, "Mom..." She turned and looked at me with eyes wide, like a woman who hadn't been touched like that for a long time. "I love you. I notice you. I think you're not just pretty, but gorgeous. In fact mom, you're the most beautiful woman I know." I said this to her not to make her feel better, but because I truly thought it.
"Ooo sweetie" she said as she wrapped her arms around me in a tight hug. I wrapped my arms around her waist in return. "...thank you so much. You really know how to flatter your mother." she said, and kissed my cheek as she pulled back. For some reason I didn't pull away my arms still around her waist, and I held her close to me. She didn't seem to mind very much though.
I spoke with a clarity I didn't know I had. "I didn't say that because you're my mother, or to flatter you. I said it because it's the truth. You really are gorgeous. You're perfect in fact, Mom. I'm serious when I say you're the most beautiful, attractive woman I know."
"Are you serious John, do you really think I'm beautiful?" she asked with a new tone in her voice, like that of someone starting to realize something. "You think your boring old mother is attractive?"
I didn't know what I was doing, or why, but I knew it felt like something I'd been planning on forever. I tightened and arms around her waist and her pulled against me. Her face was only a few inches from mine now, and our lower bodies were pressed against each other. I seemed to have forgotten where I was or with whom, and my mother looked as if she didn't much care either. Some inexplicable attraction was pulling us together and neither of us wanted to resist it.
"I don't think you're boring or old Mom. I think you breathtaking and beautiful and unappreciated. Dad doesn't deserve you Mom. You're stunning..." I said with all the sincerity in the world. Part of me couldn't believe what I was doing, but most of me didn't worry about it. This moment was instantaneous and potent and irresistible. It felt too right to be wrong.
I leaned forward and pressed my lips against my mother's. Immediately her arms wrapped around my neck, welcoming me. In an instant everything in the world seemed nonexistent. We didn't worry about my father in the other room or anyone else for that matter. Our kiss grew more passionate by the second, and soon our lips were parting rhythmically. When I felt my mother's tongue press into my mouth I became aware of the enormity of this moment. I pulled away for a brief moment and we stared at each other with similar intensity. We looked at each other both asking the same unspoken question. Our answers were clear and unwavering.
We dove forward for each other simultaneously, and our lips moved feverishly across one and other. Our tongues massaged each other. I could feel my mother's hand against the back of my neck, trying to pull me close and closer. My arms unwrapped around my mother's waist. Instead I reached back and grabbed her ass cheeks with my hands. I pulled her groin into mine, and for the first time I'd become aware of my erection. It wasn't until I felt it pressed against my mother's stomach that I noticed it. At the feel of it, a soft moaned escaped her mouth and through our kiss. She bit my bottom lip and pulled it.
I had no idea how we had gotten here, and so fast, but I didn't need to argue with the reality of the situation. I pulled away unenthusiastically, interrupting our kiss. Even though I was drunk on the moment, part of me couldn't completely ignore the possibility that we could get caught. We stared at each other again both breathing heavily. "You're amazing Mom, and dad doesn't deserve you, so don't worry about him. I'll show you that you're still beautiful...that I notice everything about you. I'll show you that you're still loved... if you'll let me..."
My mother looked at me and smiled. She put her lips close to my ear and whispered, "I'd love that John." The sound of this sent shivers down my spine. She went back to looking at me for a moment, before she smiled and turned towards the kitchen table. Just before she got back to cleaning the kitchen, in a final crescendo that summed up the indescribable moment we just shared, she did one last thing. She stopped, looked back over her shoulder at me, and bit her bottom lip in one of the most seductive sexual poses I'd ever seen. She finished it with a wink, and began clearing off the table like nothing had happened.
After the confusing, and exciting moment in the kitchen, I decided to go upstairs to my room and think things over a little. On the way there, I stopped in the living to ask my father a brief question.
"Everything OK Dad?" I asked sounding casual. My father lowered the news paper he was holding in front of himself and looked at me blankly for a moment.
"Of course, why wouldn't it be?" He asked in return as if the idea of him being upset about anything at all was preposterous. His voice was the same cold and dry tone it always was.
"Just checking" I said, turning to head upstairs to my room. My father stared at me quizzically, as if I had recently gone insane. He raised the paper slowly again and continued reading.
I walked up the stairs quietly, not noticing the world fade away into a blur. The TV downstairs, the crinkle of my dad's newspaper, the creek in the steps beneath my feet; everything became distant. I walked down the hall, dizzied by the pace of my racing thoughts, until I reached my bedroom door. It was my hand on the doorknob turning it, but it felt like I watched it from 10 feet away. I took a seat on my bed and watched for a few minutes as the world flew around me.
I thought about how even though I hadn't planned on ever kissing my mother, I wasn't upset that I did. In fact I my mind started processing the whole situation differently. I should've been embarrassed and regretful, but for some reason, I wasn't. It was like every preconceived notion I had in my life, didn't make any sense. My sense of wrong and right seemed vague and superficial. I searched for any reason I could use to tell myself I was wrong, but I just didn't believe it. They only concern I had was that my mother might actually become upset with me when she thought everything over. Just in case she was, I figured I should let the waters cool for a little and apologize later that night. I wasted a few hours on the internet before deciding to head down stairs.
It was a little after 9 when I left my bedroom and headed down stairs. It was a bit cold in the house so I had on some sweat pants and a long sleeve t-shirt. When I got to the bottom of the steps, I saw my dad had fallen asleep in his chair. He seemed to have replaced his newspaper with a novel, which was closed on his lap. Usually my mother was in the living room as well in the evening, watching TV, so I was surprised when I didn't see her there like I expected to. At the sound of the bottom step creaking, my father jolted his head up and was awake.
"Well, guess it's time to turn in." he said, before yawning loudly. Set in his ways, his routine made him appear to be a man closer to 70 than 50 sometimes. He lowered the leg rest on the recliner, put his novel on the coffee table and stood up.
"You going to bed?" I asked indifferently as I took a seat on the couch. I didn't want to seem suspicious to him.
"Ya, long day tomorrow. Then Tuesday I leave for a weak to go to Chicago." he replied. He started heading up the stairs slowly.
"Mom go to bed too?" I asked causally while I flipped through the TV channels.
"I think she's in the family room. I'm not sure." he answered. He spoke in the tone of a man who couldn't care less if his answer was right or not. "Goodnight" he muttered from the top of the steps, and a second later I heard the bedroom door close behind him.
I didn't really have any interest in watching TV, so I turned it off and left the remote control on the couch. I was just anxious to see if my mom was still downstairs and awake. I made my way through the kitchen and dining room. On the back of our house we had a family room, where I expected her to be, but I was surprised to see the lights were dimmed and she wasn't there. I stood there perplexed for a moment before I realized the sunroom had the lights on. I walked through the dimly lit family room until I was close enough to see my mother. She was sitting on the wicker couch with a book in her lap reading. I opened the door to the sunroom and went in.
"Hey sweetie" my mother greeted me before I even had the door closed. If she was upset, she surely didn't sound it.
"Hey" I replied simply. I sat down next to her on the couch, where she was sitting Indian style with a book in her lap. She had fleece pants on and a hoodie and was wearing her hair in a pony tail. For a second I couldn't help but notice how youthful she looked. The sunroom was cooler than the rest of the house, but she looked comfortable none the less. "Aren't you cold in here?" I asked anyway.
She let the book close is her lap, looked up at me with a smile, and asked: "Nope, perfectly comfortable. Are you?"
"No, I'm fine." I admitted. I was a bit nervous about bringing up the topic of the kiss, but I decided to just get to it. "...but I wanted to say something." I cleared my throat.
"I'm sorry about earlier Mom. I didn't mean to do that and I hope it didn't upset you. I just went out on a whim and didn't think it over and I know it was inappropriate, so I'm..." That was all I said before my mother interrupted me.
"No, no John... don't apologize," she said. I looked up at her curiously. "I'm not upset at all sweetie... you didn't upset me. In fact, kind of the contrary." The last sentence rolled off her tongue with a newfound playful tone. "I was thinking about everything you said earlier. John, those were some of the nicest, loving things anyone has ever said to me. It didn't matter to me that you were my son. You made me feel so loved and wanted." Her voice had become growingly more sincere. "John... I'm glad you kissed me. That was the most passionate, sensual kiss I think I've ever had. Your father's never even kissed me like that."
Any mild doubts I had about my mother being upset seemed to float away. I said: "Mom, I meant those things, I really did." We were locked in the same intense stare we had found ourselves in earlier that night. "I really do think you're beautiful" I said.
"John... kiss me again baby." my mother said to me. It seemed to ring throughout my entire body like a shockwave. I leaned over quickly, put my hand behind her neck, and pulled my mother to me. We kissed with as much fire and passion as the first time, except this one was different. I could feel gears moving inside me. I could feel the change happening. Something... somewhere deep in my psychology, was being shaken loose. I knew that it was wrong and we shouldn't be doing it, but I liked it. As I kissed my mother more and more sensually, I realized I liked being wrong, being taboo. I pulled away to look at mother, and everything clicked. I lusted for her. I wanted to do everything to every part of her. I suppose she might have been thinking the same thing... because she paused as long as she could.
My mother flung her lips back against mine, and our arms wrapped around each other. "Ooo mom..." I moaned through our kiss although I hadn't meant to.
"Yes baby," she was quick to reply.
I was operating off pure instinct at that point, with no time for reason or judgment. Slowly I moved my hand down to my mother's right thigh. As we kissed I moved it slowly back and forth, climbing more and more each time. When I reached the bottom of her shirt, I slide my hand under it instead of over. Slowly still, in rhythm with our kissing, I slid my hand up my mother's side. I paused kept it below her right tit for a few minutes without going any further. When she didn't protest, I slid it slowly until I felt her bra, and eventually I had her whole boob in my hand.
Suddenly she slowed down the kiss pulled away from me. "Wait baby," she said reluctantly. She pulled my hand off her boob. She looked like she was unsure. "Kissing is one thing... but we can't get out of control John. We have to keep in mind that I'm your mother and you're my son. Even though kissing is great, and I don't want to stop, we can't go any further. I was devastated by the sound of this for two reasons. One being that I wanted to do much more than kiss and two, I felt terrible and guilty. I had to struggle to keep from crying actually.
"Shit... I'm sorry mom. I can't believe I did that. I'm so sorry." I pleaded, feeling fully embarrassed.
"No John, don't apologize. You didn't do anything wrong sweetie." She put her hand under my chin and raised my face up to see hers. "I just want us to make sure we don't go too far," she said. "Kissing is fine, as long as it's our little secret, OK? Your dad can never hear about it."
"Of course mom, I wouldn't tell anyone, especially not dad. I promise," I told her sincerely.
"Ok baby, I believe you. I'm going to go bed sweetie; long day," she said. Before she got up though, she leaned in and put her lips back on mine. Her tongue slipped in soon after. "We got the whole day to ourselves tomorrow babe, and plenty more of this unless you're opposed?"
"No, not at all Mom," I said excitedly.
"Good. See you then sweetheart." and with that she picked up her book and headed out of the sunroom.
I struggled to sleep that night. After I masturbated twice to mental image of my mother, I still couldn't relax. All I should see was her face and mine coming together. All I could feel was how her firm breast felt in my hand. My mind reeled all night with thoughts and images of her. I hadn't fallen asleep by the time I heard my dad get into the shower, or even by the time I heard the front door close as he left for work. I figured my mother would be up soon anyway, so I mind as well just wait.