A Mother's Lie: A Short Tale

I just turned 18. Yesterday was my birthday.

I just got a boner. Not for the first time or anything, but...

It was from my mom.

I was sitting on the couch watching TV. Well, I was laying sideways. Mom came in, playing on her phone, and casually sat down on my groin.

"Jesus!" she shouted, then laughed.

I was startled by the whole thing, but it was over quickly. I realized she had done it by mistake.

"Sorry kiddo," she sighed.

I didn't talk much lately. I was going through some shit. Girlfriend shit. I got dumped, and it sucked. I went into depression mode.

Still I couldn't NOT say something to my mom; It was a weird thing, and obviously an accident.

"No problem," I said, forcing a laugh. "Were you coming in to watch...?"

"No, you know what?...I came in to ask you something. I forget now. Well, I'm laundry room bound."

"Kay." I said.

She turned the corner, and as she did, I curiously looked at her back. Like...her butt. Yeah.

And I was like, why the fuck did you do that, Ray? It's your mom, you idiot.

I didn't know why I did it. But she had just sat on me. By mistake. And it all came back as I remembered the event from the minute earlier.

She was heavy, soft, and warm. And her jeans were like a soft shell to a softer center.

What the fuck was I thinking about? Stop! I tried thinking of other shit, but...

That night I lay in bed. Naked, as per usual. My room was down the hall from Mom.

Dad died when I was four. I don't even remember that far back.

Lately, I've started to feel that I was a replacement partner in a way for her. Not in any weird way, just a support system. And a friend.

The sitting thing was a "nothing" type thing. Like, it should have meant nothing to me.

Then why, for the love of God, did I have a boner in bed, while thinking about it?

What was wrong with me. I rolled over, trying to snuff it out like a cigarette butt. It didn't snuff out so easily.

I slept poorly.

The next day was my last day off until school on Monday. Saturday had gone quick, and now here I was, feeling like my weekend was slipping away.

I woke up, ate breakfast, and went to go watch TV. I walked past Mom's room.

Mom was still in bed, turned away. But her sheet had fallen down. Her thighs and her ass were on full display.

I almost froze, but instead I walked away.

What the fuck was my deal? Why was I thinking of her the way I was? Sort of... obsessively.

And worse, sexually.

I watched TV until Mom woke up. Once I heard her stirring, I went back into my room for some reason. I just...didn't want her to talk to me right now.

I thought being in there would be like having a barrier.

I was wrong.

Ten seconds after I sat down on my bed, my mom flung the door open without warning and said, "Hey kiddo! Morning!"

I looked over, and mom stood in my doorway, wearing her housecoat. The fluffy white one. Bare feet.

Before I could say anything she came and sat down next to me on the bed. Her thigh rested alongside mine as she plopped a big photo album on my lap.

"Found these, take a look!" she said with anticipation in her voice. Mom sounded young for her age. She had energy.

I flipped through the pages.

"I know Mom, I've seen these recently. Growing up, baseball games, all that."

"Flip to the end," she said, biting her lip.

"Okay, crazy lady," I said, obeying her.

The last pages were from more recent events. The last photo was me, taken yesterday, wearing a blue shirt which read "RAY'S 18th BIRTHDAY" in white letters. It was an inside joke my mom had started a year ago, and it's not worth explaining, honestly.

"Nice, Mom." I stared at her.

"No, look. You didn't see, look again," she said adamantly.

I looked at the photo more closely. In the photo, my smile was marred by a loose salad leaf or something, but from afar it looked like I had cracked a tooth. I looked goofy.

I laughed for real this time, as my mom chimed in.

"Dumb and Dumber." She giggled.

My "cracked" tooth did have a Lloyd Christmas vibe.

"This is why you barge in, unannounced, into my room?" I tried to sound annoyed, but I can't stand up to her, being my mom and all.

"You were awake." She raised her eyebrows at me.

"Okay, but..." I gave up. "What are we doing today?"

She hummed. "Maybe...we could go to the pool?"

"Sure," I said.

Sunday, we usually did one thing together. Could be breakfast, could be a hike. Maybe a movie. It was a loose tradition, but we usually did something together.

The pool was one of the weirder hangs my mom liked to do with me. Last time I was there with her, some girl I knew had seen us. She waved, but had I felt really stupid.

Who went to the pool with their Mom?

I did, I guess.

I rode passenger on the way there. "You'll get your license soon," she told me.

"I hope." I said mindlessly.

We parked, paid, and went to our separate change rooms.

I emerged in my black and blue shorts. The pool was dead right now. Only a couple of seniors by the hot tub.

Mom came out in a orange bikini. It was modest but I still found myself staring. At my Mom, again. Perfect, Ray. Real perfect.

"Hey," I said, "let's do the cool pool?"

She nodded.

Cool pool was just the big one with lanes on half of it. It was cooler than the wave pool, and way more chilly than the hot tub.

We hopped in, and breathed sharply at the drop in temperature. It felt nice though.

We swam to the deep end, and she pointed to a pair of goggles resting by the diving board.

"Are those someone's?" she asked me.

"They say AC on them," I said.

"Aquatic Center," she said smiling.

"Or like, Andy...Chewman," I said, swimming in place.

"That's nobody's name," she giggled. She was fun to hang with, for a mom.

She was pretty for a mom, too.

Said Ray, the incestuous freak.

"Put 'em on," she said, "Swim down to the bottom."

"Fine." I accepted her challenge because I enjoyed holding my breath and sitting on the pool floor.

I put them on, surprised to find they weren't ragged, or old. They looked new.

I took a breath, and swam down. My ears popped.

I love pools. I like how everything is blue, and clear, and hypnotic. How the square tiles make everything look measured, and clean.

I let out a little air and sank to the floor. I looked up and my mom was swimming above me. Her thighs and calves kicked as I stared. Her bikini was riding up a bit.

Can you imagine if she knew? She'd be so disappointed if she knew what I was doing. Or just appalled. Horrified.

I swam up to the surface, careful to decompress my sinuses as I rose.

"Pwah," I gargled, spitting out water.

"Nice, you were down a while," she said.

"Yup," I said. In that moment, I missed my ex a little. I missed doing this kind of thing with someone I could be romantic with as well.

"Were you looking up at me?" she asked.

I didn't know why she was asking.

"Um, sure, why," I said. It sounded aloof, but it was calculated. I didn't have to lie and it seemed like I was pure of thought.

"I just remembered I sent you down there with goggles, and maybe I shouldn't have, given I was swimming directly above you."

I didn't know why she even mentioned it. What did she want me to say? She seemed off. I threw the goggles to the edge of the pool.

"All good," I said.

"Diving board?" she asked.

I never saw her once jump off the board, but now she was swimming to the ladder. I looked away as she exited the pool. I had a momentary look, and that was enough. I did in fact enjoy her ass in that bikini.

She walked to the end of the board, bounced, and transitioned into a graceful dive into the water.

"Nice," I said as she emerged at the surface.

"Do a flip?" she said.

"As if," I said, swimming to the ladder. I had the weirdest feeling that my mom was staring at me as I climbed. But I was probably projecting my own weird thoughts. I looked at her and she watched me walk the length of the diving board.

It wasn't high, but I felt nervous up there. Things were weird between us, and I hoped I didn't half a half-chub or anything. I was afraid to look.

I bounced, and dove into the water.

I emerged to find my mom way closer than expected. Our limbs touched.

"Hot tub?" she said, shivering a little. It was pretty nippy.

We got out and walked to the hot tub. There was a sauna and steam room too, but both were way too hot to be comfortable. I understood that was the point, but I didn't enjoy it.

We slipped into the jacuzzi-like hot tub, which was bean-shaped and long.

The underwater jets were spaced along the whole thing, and created an opaque mass of bubbles which concealed our lower torsos. And, if you sat with one of those jets in your back, it felt great.

We sat oddly close to each other, given how empty it was. A couple of old people on the opposite end talked amongst themselves.

Mom's thigh grazed mine. She sort of leaned it against me, and softly laughed, clearly acknowledging that she knew, and wasn't pulling away.

I started to develop an erection at a startling pace. I looked at my mom's cleavage, and it maxed out. I was rock hard. I looked away.

We talked about her job for a bit, and I talked about school. It took a full ten minutes of staring at a life preserver mounted on a wall to bring my erection down.

Perfect timing, as Mom suggested we get going.

I emerged from the change room before her, and bought a Fresca from an old looking vending machine.

She came out, hair wet and smelling of chlorine. Or maybe that was me. Or the entire lobby.

We drove home, and I resumed watching TV once I had some lunch.

Mom joined me on the couch. She turned off the TV.

"I have something to say," she said, looking strangely solemn.

I dry-swallowed. "Okay." Was she going to have a talk? Something to do with how I've been? Acting weird?

"This will be hard to hear."

She took a deep breath.

"I'm not your mom."

"What." I said dryly.

"Your real mom died with your dad. She passed away a few days after the accident. I was her best friend, and she asked me to look out for you."

I didn't say anything. I don't think I was breathing.

"So," she continued, "I did. I took you, and adopted you, and raised you myself. Your real mom told me to. As my own. She asked me to raise you that way. Then she died."

I looked at her, unsure how to react. It was a simple enough story, objectively. But I was too much at the center of it, that I couldn't perceive it properly.

"No, you...you're my mom. We look alike." My voice sounded far away.

"A bit, yeah. But we're not related. But you're my son, Ray. I would never want you to think you're anyone other than that to me. I feel like a mother, and you feel like my son.

"I waited until you were 18, because it seemed like a mature enough age to handle this. I thought if I told you that I adopted you, and you were too young to hear that both your parents were dead, I thought you'd feel alone. Maybe forever. I thought I might never be able to tell you, it was so hard not telling you.

"I'm sorry for keeping a secret this big, for your whole life. But...I don't want this to change anything. I still want you to call me Mom, and hang with me on Sundays-- but only if you want to.

"If this is too much, you can handle this however you want. I just need you to know I'll always be your mom, and I'm always here for you."

She started to tear up. She was on the verge of crying. I pulled her towards me, and hugged her tight.

"I love you," I said, as her tears ran down my shoulder.

"I love you too, Ray," she said, composing herself. "Sorry."

She pulled back, and looked at me. Her sparkling eyes were glossy from tears. She looked flushed, but beautiful.

She went to kiss my cheek, but I turned to the left instead of the right.

Now, I think a huge part of what happened next was instigated by an accidental kiss on the lips.

She froze after she kissed me. We were still halfway through a hug. Getting kissed by your mom, even on the lips isn't that weird for a one-off. Some families might do that, but we never did. But were we even a family?

Mom kissed me again.

I stared at her, bug-eyed.

"I think I'm...confused," she said, eyes locked on mine.

She kissed me again, this time not a peck, but a full, passionate kiss that lovers would share. I remained still, even my mouth. The kiss was just...happening to me.

Until it wasn't. I moved my lips, and kissed her back. The sensation was so wonderful, and simultaneously, so shameful. She was the instigator, and she technically wasn't related to me-- more like a guardian. But not even half an hour ago, I didn't know that. It still felt wrong.

But also, quite right. She pivoted, and started to straddle me on the couch as we kissed. Her jeans were tight on her.

She sat on my lap, and her warmth and weight rested on my hardening member.

We kissed so we didn't have to speak, or explain what we were doing. We were just doing it.

Fuck, were we going to do it?

I wasn't a virgin, but this felt like a whole other kind of milestone.

Her breasts pressed against me. Her kisses tasted like cherries. She moaned softly into my mouth.

"Ray," she whispered, "Is this wrong?"

I knew the correct answer, but I wasn't about to ruin this. I was about to enjoy the experience of having sex with my mom, without really having sex with my mom.

Like my preference of sitting on my hand to make it fall asleep before jerking off-- simulating someone else's hand-- this was similar: I knew the truth, but she still felt like my mom, and she might not feel like that for much longer. I was going to feel the slowly fading emulation of being inside my mom, before I never could again.

"It's not," I told her. "Let's go to bed."

We got up, and walked hand in hand to her bedroom. She told me to strip, and lay down.

My heart was racing, but I obeyed.

I was naked, hard, and laying on my back, staring at...

I guess I knew her first name. But I only ever called her Mom. Her last name must have been changed, or maybe mine was. God, this was not the time for questions like that.

The woman before me was a goddess, standing in her white bra and panties. Beautiful skin, curly, shoulder length hair, perfect curves, and that smile-- the smile that always cheered me up.

She slowly removed her undies as I watched. She said nothing. This was all so effortless. Her breasts were now bare, and same for her crotch. My mom shaves, I thought.

I also thought, shut up, brain: she's not your mom. But I liked the idea, all the same.

She stared at my cock, and didn't look at me as she approached. She crawled up and onto the bed. On top of me. She straddled me, and helped herself to my shaft.

She closed her eyes as she guided me. I felt warm wetness massage the tip of my dick as the sensation engulfed me as I was slowly taken inside.

I looked up at her, her breasts swaying as she bit her lip, with her eyes shut. Was she ashamed to see who she was fucking? No, don't think about, I thought.

Think about your dick inside a woman. A woman who's tight, and good at this shit. She slowly started riding up and down, as though I was being used as a stationary device.

Until I wasn't.

I thrust inside her, and she moaned, opening her eyes in surprise. She looked at me, smiled, and closed them again.

"Ray," she purred.

"Yeah," I said, almost adding 'Mom' out of habit.

"You're amazing," she said. It was something she would say after I got a good grade, or drew something for her. But the way she said it now was lustful. Passionate.

"You too," I said, "I love you."

She giggled a little. She sounded like a girl my age, even if she was older. But God, was she beautiful.

But I said I loved her. Something I've said hundreds of times before. But I never said it like that before.

Was that weird?

"I love you too honey," she said softly. "I'm sorry I had to lie to you."

"It's okay," I said, breathing heavy. I was in bliss.

"It was the only way you'd let me take care of you," she moaned.

I felt like I was getting close. Very close. Fuck, she felt good. Caring, loving. Motherly.

"But you needed me. I could tell. The look in your eyes."

"Yeah," I said, not feeling as talkative as her, but enjoying the sound of her voice.

"At the pool."

"Yeah." I panted. At the pool. The pool, like...today?

"Do you forgive your mom?" she asked, as I slid deep inside of her.

She must have been into the fantasy a little too. The difference being, she always knew I wasn't really her son.

"I forgive you," I said, kissing her neck as she whispered in my ear.

I was about to come. I guess she wanted me to finish inside of her. She knew I wouldn't last forever.

"It was the only way to get you..." she whimpered. Her own orgasm must have been approaching as well. Maybe we would both finish at the same--

"...to let me."

A short fuse had been lit. Nothing could stop me from coming within seconds. Especially knowing she was about to come too.

Not even the dawning realization of her confession, as the pieces assembled themselves.

She lied. She needed me. She saw that I needed her. At the pool. It was the only way I would let her.

Mom started to scream as she came, and like a good son, I followed the leader. Like mother, like son, I came.

The veil fell away as I closed my eyes tightly. My hand wasn't numb: it was never my hand. My mother was alive: she was always my mother.

I pulsed inside her as I filled her. I moaned, and shivered. As our bodies heaved. Melded. Fused. One.

"Good boy," said Mom. "Very good for our first time."

THE END.