As My Dad Sleeps It Off Pt. 01

Mother and Son. Who seduced who?

Disclaimer: All sexual activity is between characters over the age of 18. If you have a problem with mother/son incest, please find something else to read. Also, if you don't understand the effects of alcoholism on the family unit, this story may not be for you either. This is a mostly true story based on my life experience. Any similarity between it's characters and any other real people is entirely coincidental. I hope you enjoy.

This actually happened when I was in my late teens. My mother is gone now. So, I decided to share my story. The names were changed to protect the not so innocent. This happened back in the mid 70's. So, keep in mind that times were different back then. Some things that I'll share are common place now, but back then were not so much so.

I hope you like it. I'm not an English or writing major. So, give me a break on English and grammar. This is my first attempt at writing, and they say write what you know. So, here goes...

It was Saturday morning, and a typical mid 1970's Mississippi August. It was hot as hell, and so humid that it was almost unbearable. Except for the fact that we had lived there our whole lives here, we had become accustomed to the weather. I know many of you may think we're all inbred rednecks down here in the south, but that's not the case. However, I may find it hard to remove that "inbred" impression some of you may have after reading my story.

As I woke with a typical morning wood, I began thinking of one of my teachers, Mrs. Knight. Although I was white, I had a huge crush on this gorgeous ebony goddess. Now I don't consider myself as being racist, but in the 70's interracial relationships were just as taboo as the story I'm in the process of telling.

Mrs. Knight had huge breasts, probably at least a DD cup. They jiggled just perfectly in the tight dresses she wore with the somewhat plunging necklines. This guaranteed that every boy in her class would get a boner that would be torturous for the entire length of her one-hour class. She was a very curvaceous woman. She also had the most beautiful almond shaped eyes, and a large ass that swelled in just the right places. She always had her hair pulled back in a ponytail, and had nice thick thighs perfect for wrapping around a young boy's head, hips or both... if you're lucky. How could any male my age of 18 years resist a woman with such a stunning figure. I always thought it amazing that she dressed in such a manner considering her husband was a minister.

Too bad she was such a bitch as a teacher.

I held my morning wood while thinking of Mrs. Knight, and I began to slowly stroke my manhood. I imagined her undressing just for my singular pleasure. The more clothes she removed, in my mind, the faster my strokes became. Once her gorgeous globes were bare, with her nipples hard and ready for sucking, I couldn't take any more. My cock exploded with a massive gush of my sloppy sap into the wad of bath tissue I used to catch my load. Then three more spurts followed leaving me expended of all energy.

I lay there with my continued thoughts of Mrs. Knight bouncing around in my head, trying to catch my breath. I slowly returned to normal. Then I got up out of bed, dressed, and went into the kitchen for breakfast. We lived in a typical 3 bedroom ranch style home at the time.

This was a typical Saturday morning. My mother was in the kitchen preparing my breakfast. I didn't speak being the rebellious teen that I was, but my mother said "morning". I think I may have just grunted a "morning" back to her. We weren't particularly close. My whole life was mostly memories of my father passed out in his chair. He was an alcoholic which affected my whole family. It left me holding in all of my feelings and resentments about pretty much everything, but that's a different story.

As I sat there eating my breakfast, I didn't think much of my mother in her night gown which fairly frumpy and came down to mid-calf. It was a typical night gown for a woman of her years. It was more utilitarian than sexy. It showed no cleavage, and was in no way intended to be inviting. She wasn't particularly attractive in my eyes. She was just my mother, and she was 55 at the time.

I just finished my breakfast, left the house, and hooked up with my buds. We would smoke some weed, and enjoy the day high as a kite.

I guess I should give you a little more back story. As I mentioned, my father was an alcoholic, and passed out in his chair every night. I also have a sister 2 years my senior, but she had married and moved out of the house 2 years prior which left her bedroom unused. So, my mother took advantage of the situation, and moved into my sister's old bedroom.

Obviously, with my mother sleeping in a different bedroom than my father, and him being passed out every night, that didn't lead to much intimacy. I'm sure. However, I don't think she was looking for intimacy at the time. At least not from my father. It was not a comfortable environment in which to be raised... again a different story.

Now, being a red-blooded teenage male, you can imagine how much I masturbated in my room. I kept a roll of bath tissue in my room to catch my ejaculation, and for additional cleanup after the fact. Being that young, I also had no forethought of what my parents may think as they emptied my waste basket full of sperm-soaked tissue. I can only assume they knew what was going on in my room each night with my door closed. The evidence was right there in front of them.

One night I was going through my nightly masturbation rituals thinking of Mrs. Knight. However, sometimes I would also think of Miss. Jones. Now she was young, and in her early 20's. This was her first teaching job. She had blonde hair which curled some, and came down to her shoulders. She also had nice breasts. They weren't as large as Mrs. Knight's breasts, but I'm sure they were probably at least a C cup. She was also a curvaceous woman. Although I don't really consider myself having a foot fetish, I did really like Miss. Jones' nice chubby toes. She always wore sandals which showed off those plump toes nicely. They dampened many a wad of tissue as well. As you can see, my fantasies varied greatly.

These were obviously two classes in which I didn't do well due to my wondering thoughts. This left me leaving class daily with a throbbing hard-on, and no way to take matters in hand so to speak.

Again, back to the story, I was going through my nightly masturbation rituals, and stroking my hard cock. Then, all of a sudden, my door opened. It was my mother. She quickly asked "ARE YOU...?!" seeming a bit upset, I knew the rest of that question was "masturbating". Fortunately, she quickly closed my door, and left.

Nothing was ever said about it again. I think she preferred to act like nothing ever happened, and life went on just as always. Of course, that didn't slow down my masturbation schedule either. I continued my fantasies about Mrs. Knight and Miss. Jones. Sometimes my next door neighbor, Mrs. Day, would also slip into my fantasies. She was young. I'd say in her mid 30's, and she didn't really have much in the way of tits. Actually, I'm being a little generous. She had no tits at all. An A cup max. She didn't even really need a bra except for the fact that they were heavily padded bras. Don't ask how I know. However, she did have the most scrumptious ass I've ever seen. As they say, when God closes a door, he opens a window. Well, that ass was her window, and she knew it. Thankfully, she always dressed to properly display it.

Those fantasies really bring back some pleasant memories. Every now and again I still masturbate with these lovely women in mind. I've always fantasized about older, more curvy women. I can't even recall a girl my age that I fantasized about. There were some crushes, but I never really fantasized about them.

After being caught red-fisted so to speak, I started locking my door. This would eliminate that possibility from ever happening again. Of course, the evidence still remained in my waste basket. Ah, the stupidity of youth.

One day, my father was at work as usual. He didn't start drinking until he came home which he did privately outside. He had bottles of vodka hidden everywhere... Like we didn't know. We found them often. Of course, we didn't really need to find them. We saw the results.

I saw that my mother was home which was unusual as she worked an 8-5 job every weekday. I was just coming in from school. I was going to the local community college, and had different schedules based on the day of the week. So, at the time, I assumed my mother didn't realize I was coming home. I walked pass my room, and to my mother's room to let her know I was home.

When I got to her room, I got the surprise of my life. My mother stood on the other side of the room totally naked with her door open. I stood there for what seemed like forever looking at her surprisingly sexy body, but it was probably only a few seconds. She never said a word. She just looked at me without moving. I remember being embarrassed beyond belief as I stood there taking in her body with my lusting eyes. Then I quickly turned, and went back to my room almost sprinting. Again, nothing was ever said about this either. I think my mother just wanted to avoid these conversations all together which was fine by me.

Later I started thinking about it, and I realized my mother had made no attempt to cover herself. I thought that was odd. I've always thought covering up was almost a reflex action made by anyone when they were accidentally caught unclothed. However, she did nothing. So, as I thought more about it, she should have known there was a possibility I could come home. I also remembered that I wasn't particularly quiet when I came in the house. It's not like I was trying to sneak up on her. Why didn't she hear me moving around? Also, why didn't she just simply close her door regardless of the time of day. Most people close their doors when they are about to change clothes. That would have eliminated any possibility of being caught naked. Right?

All of this really confused me. It just didn't make any sense, or was I just over-thinking it? The thing that was most confusing was the fact that I was thinking about her sexually all the time. I had never considered her particularly attractive before. Sometimes she would even creep into my masturbatory fantasies. That was a little freaky I thought. What I thought about most was the beauty of her breasts. They were sagging just a bit as would any woman of 55 years, but her nipples were perfect. The areolas were about a half dollar size with a perfect pencil eraser size nub in the center. Her skin was very pale like Snow White which set off the color of her beige nipples perfectly. Her figure was a very nice hour glass shape. She had a bit of a tummy as would be expected, and she had a perfect triangular shaped dark auburn bush which matched the color of her hair. Although, there didn't seem to be any of the gray in her bush. She had streaks of gray running through her auburn hair.

She had a very sexy torso, but her face, legs and arms showed her 55 years. Her face had the creases of a woman who'd had a worried life. She had vericose veins on her upper thighs. Since I had only ever seen her fully dressed before, who knew what a hot body lay beneath? She had a wonderful womanly figure. She never dressed to show her curves as was the style for a married mother of her age at the time.

Now my thoughts were making me feel a bit guilty. After all, this was my mother. She was entering my fantasies more and more. Not only that, but why was I able to see that mind blowing vision? Could she not hear me as I entered the house, or did she? Why had she left her door open? Did she want me to see? Was she frustrated from lack of intimacy with my drunkard father? Did she actually enjoy catching me masturbating? Was she purposely leading me down this path subtly making the first move herself, or was she just teasing me? Could she see this as a possible answer to both of our needs? No, that's just stupid. Right?

As these questions raced through my head, my mind began to wonder if I should try to fulfill both our fantasies, assuming this was also her fantasy. Is she waiting on me to make the first move? Do I have the guts to make the first move? Oh, MY HEAD WAS ABOUT TO EXPLODE! So, I thought... Is there a way I could subtly let her know that I was interested without too much embarrassment? That's when I decided to start "accidentally" brushing up against her from time to time to see her reactions.

One night while she was in her night gown, I "accidentally" brushed across her left tit in passing. SHE WASN'T WEARING A BRA! Oh, those tits were so soft and squeezable. However, there was no reaction on her part. She just kept walking. Was this her way of ignoring a situation as she had always done in the past, or was she receptive? She didn't even acknowledge it.

So, a few nights later, I tried it again, and, again, no reaction. Well, regardless of her intent, I loved brushing by her tits. So, I decided to continue doing this until I got a reaction one way or another. Needless to say, this became a nightly part of my masturbatory ritual. Once, I actually caught a glimpse of her face in passing. She seemed to have a small grin, but I wasn't sure.

Since she didn't seem to mind my brushing against her tits, I decided to brush up against her ass while we were in our tiny kitchen. This is easily explained, right? Again, no reaction. So, this too became a nightly ritual.

As time went on, my frustrations got the better of me. I decided to confront her. So, one night she was sitting on the right end of the couch with her legs underneath her. She was across the den from my comatose father, and doing her crossword puzzle. She loved those puzzles. So, with all my courage in tow, I sat down beside her. Not too close. She said "Hey", and I just sort of mumbled my response a bit out of fright from what I was about to do, and she said "What?". So, I said "Momma, I'm worried that I missed a once in a lifetime opportunity." Trying to be as ambiguous as possible, and leaving myself an escape route.

Momma said "Oh my, and what opportunity was that?"

I replied "I er ah... should not have turned away, and went to my room the day I saw you in your room." THERE, I said it, or so I thought. I had passed to the point of no return.

She asked "What are you talking about?", and I replied "The day I saw... You know..."

She said "No, I don't know. Saw what?" CRAP, she was going to make me spell it out. So much for my escape route. Now, I was wondering... Does she really not know, or is she just playing coy? So, I mustered up all the courage I had, and said "The day I saw you naked!"

She said "Oh, that." To which I replied "Yes, that." Now I was in way too deep. So, I was fast forward all steam ahead. So, I said "I wonder what might have happened if I had come into the room with you instead of going to my room."

Then she said "Why would you do that?" I thought, CRAP! Was she trying to make me come out and say "I WANT TO FUCK YOU!"? Now, I knew she was playing coy because my mother is not stupid. So, I had to bull through this, and just do what I needed. So, I said "To be with you!". That was a good way to say it. Right?

She then said "What do you mean 'BE' with me?!!", and I replied "I would've liked to have been with you in a... uh... uh... more... intimate way." I thought, oh my gosh. What did I just say? Oh crap, and I looked down embarrassed that I had actually said this to my mother. What the fuck was I doing? Obviously, my prick was doing all the thinking here.

When I realized she wasn't yelling at me, I finally slowly looked up into her eyes. There was no anger or reluctance that I could detect. Was this a green light? What's going on here? That's when I slowly started to lean in a bit to see what she'd do, nut she didn't do anything. She didn't lean in, and she didn't lean back. So, I just went for it. I took her into my arms, and lightly kissed her in a not so son like manner. When I pulled back, she just looked at me for a moment confused I think, and then I leaned in again. This time, I kissed her more passionately, and she started to kiss me back. It was a nice romantic type of kiss with no tongues. We just pressed our lips together for a while as we let our lips move about and feel each other. It was wet, and moving like you might see on a Hallmark romance movie... Clean, but romantic.

Then she pushed me away, and I thought 'Oh, well. I guess that's that. I really fucked up.'

She said "I don't know if she could do something like that, and certainly not in front of your father." So, I said "He's dead to the world right now. He won't wake up from his drunken stupor for hours!" I thought "Well that was stupid because I said it with all the anger that I felt towards my dad for his alcoholism." She said "Still, that's incest, and It's wrong." She seemed to ignore the anger in my statement.

So, I asked her the questions I needed answered in my mind. Why did she leave her door open? Why didn't she hear me coming in? Why didn't she cover up, and why hasn't she complained about my brushing up against her?

She then said "I'm sorry. I don't know why I did any of that." She didn't give me the answers I needed, but she didn't deny doing it either. So, it seemed to me that she was aware she was doing those things even though she wouldn't admit it. That seemed to be one in my favor.

Then she left the room crying a bit, and that's when I decided to do something to make her want me the way I wanted her. I hoped it wouldn't take too much pushing because she seemed to enjoy the attention. My plan was to call her name, leave my door unlocked and cracked every time I masturbated with her as my fantasy which, of course, was every time now. Because I knew that she would do what she always did. She would never mention it again, and life would go on as it always had. Of course, I was hoping for a different response. Like, maybe she'd rush through my door, and take my cock in her mouth. I've really got to laugh at that because I really thought it. Of course, now I know that would never happen. That's a totally unrealistic expectation.

So, when I implemented my plan, I would think of her naked body while I vocally called to her "Oh Momma, I want you so much. Fuck me hard, Momma. How do you like making love to your son. Momma, you make me so hard."

The first few times I did this, nothing happened, but, one night, I saw her shadow in my doorway as I masturbated. So, I got really loud. "Momma feel me inside you. Oh, you make me so hard. I love sucking my Momma's tits. They're so beautiful. You're so beautiful. Feel me inside you. Feel me filling you up. How does it feel to have a hard cock in your pussy again?". Then the shadow disappeared, but I knew she knew exactly what I wanted. I wasn't exactly being subtle about it.

So, I decided to masturbate every night at the same time every night. So, she'd know when to expect me masturbating to her, and I'd leave my door about a quarter of the way open. Enough so she could see, and hear the show I was putting on for her. I wanted it to be obvious. From that point on, nearly every time I jacked off, I could see my mother's shadow in my doorway. Man, that was so exciting knowing that my mother was watching me jerk off

Then, one night, I saw some movement from the shadow in the doorway, and heard what I thought was some whimpering and grunts. IT WAS MOANING I HEARD!! My mother was masturbating while watching me!! It was such a turn on. I lay there masturbating, calling her by name, "Momma", and talking dirty all while watching through the cracks in my eyes the shadow movement outside, and listening to the small whimpers, grunts, and moaning.