Diary of a Motherfucker

3/11/2021

Spring is approaching. The weather has been warming up, flowers blooming, birds singing and love in the air.

But, sadly, there's been no loving for me. It was yet another lonely Valentine's Day.

Gotta say I'm getting fed up with being single.

Tonight, I was having drinks at my favorite hole-in-the-wall bar with my buddy Earl, who, like me, had been single awhile.

Or so I thought.

"Man, there's no babes in here tonight. Hardly any ladies to be found. This place is dead." I bemoaned, swigging my suds, panning around the wasteland of a bar.

"It was always a dump, this bar, but it used to have people in it, besides us, and them," I grumbled, nudging my bottle over to the bitchy princess triumvirate, opposite side of the dreary room.

"There used to be smoke-shows. 10s, 9s, at worse, 6s and 7s and, okay, yes, even 4s or 5s, which I'd still take home if I were shit-faced enough. Now look around...Place is a ghost town..."

Earl wasn't too stressed, peered up from his tablet with a sly grin, replied, "Everyone is on Tinder now. You should try it."

"I'm on Tinder. I had a few dates, but I've never been too into online dating. I got catfished by something awful the other week. Should have seen the choppers on this girl. Could put a dentist's kid through college with the work those things needed. Fucking Photoshop. I hate Tinder."

"Alright, then go over to that busty blonde in the cutoffs, with the thick thighs, over by the jukebox. I dare you."

Glass of gin in hand, Earl's pinky twitched at the saucy blonde who came to this bar weekly. The D-Cup Princess had shot both him and me down. Two or three times.

"You want her to file a restraining order on me. You fuck." I raged, swerving back his way. I was ready to punch him. For real.

Sick bastard was always breaking balls. He had a lot of nerve. He loved playing practical jokes. We had a joke war that went nuclear, cling-wrap on each other's toilets, fake personal ads on dating sites. Pretty much nothing was impossible or off-limits with Earl.

But what he told me next, now THAT, that blew my mind. That I never, in a trillion years, was expecting him to say.

"I'm seeing someone. We've been together for a long time, actually, but it got physical the last couple weeks." Earl told me, like a sinner in the confession booth, his face tomato red.

Not once had I seen him embarrassed, not this guy. This was new territory.

"She's, much older than me." Earl couldn't look me in the eyes as he spoke. His head pointed at the bar's grimy hardwood floor.

"This is why you wanted to have drinks tonight? Not to vent about work or chase tail, but because you wanted to confess. You're fucking a cougar, you bastard!" I began to laugh uproariously, nearly hyperventilating.

Sure, I had seen MILFs, sexy older ladies. Jennifer Aniston, that's a mature lady I'd bang, for sure, but Earl and me only really dated girls around our own age, mid to late 20s. Neither he nor I had been with an older lady. Until now.

Earl, usually a comedian, had a cold face when I laughed at him.

"Come on, bro. I'm not hating. I'm just saying. It is, you know, un-, unusual. Nothing wrong with it." I told him, catching my breath, and striking a more conciliatory tone, pursing my lips.

"Watch what you say and how you talk about her."

His tone was stern. His face was dour.

"Chill out. I'm sorry. I wasn't expecting it. That's all. If you're in love with her, or it's serious, I respect that."

"I definitely love her. But the whole thing is complicated."

He was rubbing his forehead. Then he slugged down the rest of his gin in a mighty gulp.

I'd known him since college, almost 10 years. He'd had girlfriends, dumped, been dumped, but we, other friends together would pound drinks, find other fish in the sea. It wasn't ever so serious as this.

"Why? Why is it so complicated?" I inquired, my eyebrows upcurved.

"Because..." He was struggling to speak. "Look, you tell nobody about this. NOT ONE of our friends."

Fucking hell, he was getting strangely solemn but also pissed.

"Swear to me. On your honor. As my friend. As a man. You don't tell a soul."

"We've known each other forever. You're one of my best friends. Seriously. Whatever it is, Earl, bro, you can tell me. You know your secret is safe. Fucking spit it out!"

His voice quieted, and he leaned in, scouting around to see no one nearby could hear. He didn't have to worry much, though, because the place was practically abandoned. Not to mention how loud it was, that snobby blonde and her snobby friends blasting Marshmello and Chainsmokers EDM tunes from the jukebox.

"I'm having sex with my Mom." He confessed to me. His eyes deadpan to mine.

After telling me, he exhaled, a huge breath, like it'd been on his mind and was a 50-pound weight on his shoulders he'd just thrown off.

"You're what?" I exclaimed. I curled my upper lip and raised an eyebrow. Not even Earl had joked about such taboo subjects. But I wouldn't put it past him.

"Bro, if you're recording this. If this is another of your jokes. Then, you know, it might be- "

I was about to burst out laughing again but caught myself. He wasn't that good an actor. I'd played Poker with him. No, he was serious.

"You're serious, aren't you? You had sex with your- your Mom?"

I probably said that too loud. Earl's eyes darted about, and he placed his pointer finger to his lips and shushed me.

"Fuck! What? Why? How? I have no idea what to say. You two are grown, so, whatever, but it's not something I would think about. Okay, alright, don't deck me, but your Mom is, you know, a nice-looking lady. I know she was a B-movie actress or something, right? But, like, wow, how did, uh, that, happen?"

Earl's mood lightened up. I could see that talking about it was beneficial, therapeutic for him. Poor dude. Not many people he could talk with about this. Made me like him more, that he'd told me, I gotta say. This is bro talk of the highest magnitude.

Earl leaned in, his voice hushed, his eyes on fire and he began to recount his scandalous admission.

"She is hot. My Mom. Like, I always sorta thought that, but I had girlfriends, was chasing plenty of skirt, I didn't have too many thoughts of her, like that, until last month.

"She'd lost a fair deal of weight. She really was looking hot in this swimsuit, in my parents' backyard. I'd come home, and she was by herself, by the pool. My Dad was playing golf or some shit.

"She was all pissed off at my Dad, fucking boiling pissed, because he hadn't been paying much attention to her. She thinks he's having an affair. He'd also forgotten her birthday."

"So I tell her we should have a drink, I'll sit out by the pool with her, we can talk. Then we're drinking, hard, slamming shots of Japanese whisky, sake. My Mom is Japanese, you know, and I mean, she looks younger than her age.

"We're under this sun umbrella, and she starts crying. I go over to her lawn chair, to comfort her. She's crying on my shoulder, hugging me, quivering, and her bikini top, which I guess wasn't tied tight enough, falls off.

"Totally blitzed, she didn't realize it, but I did, even though I'm fucked up, I wasn't that fucked up, not as fucked up as her.

"She stops crying, lifts off me and she's topless, in front of me. She, in that moment, I can't explain. It was like nothing, no feeling comparable. She was so beautiful, so vulnerable."

"She looks down at herself. Then she looks back up, at me, asks me if she's 'beautiful.'"

"Bro, in that moment, no woman could have been more beautiful. I mean, I'm part Japanese, but since my Dad is a dark-skinned Sicilian, most people never know I'm mixed, Japanese. Shit, I never even dated a Japanese or Asian girl."

"And here's my Mom, this amazing Japanese lady. These high cheekbones. This flawless slim figure and creamy light-yellow skin. These incredible, mesmerizing big crescent-shaped opal eyes. And she's in my arms, just staring at me."

"I start running my hand on her thigh."

"I then lift her towards me. Next thing I know, it's sort of blurry, so I'm not sure who went in first, but we're suddenly kissing. Frenching. I'm feeling her up, touching her tits. Pinching her petite nipples.

"Part of me is thinking, 'What the fuck? It's your MOM!' But she's too sexy, too hot. We're both too intoxicated.

"Off go my swim trunks and I went for her bikini bottom.

"But, staring at my dick, which is hard as a rock, she stops me, for a second, shakes her head, says 'no.'

"I stop, because, no means no, and all that. But I mean, fuck, I'm hornier than anything.

"For a second I froze. I wasn't sure what to do. My mind went blank. Everything started spinning, I'm so tipsy off the drink. The potion's effects intensifying. Without even thinking, I say to her, meekly, 'please.'

"Her head points down at the ground, and she's staring, blankly, like in a trance, doesn't say a word for what seemed like, ever, but probably only like 10 seconds, and then she looks up, looks me right in the eyes, nods and said 'okay.'

"Her bikini bottom was like the wrapping of my Christmas present, the way I did away with it. She was neatly trimmed, down there, a landing strip, and I dove in, stuffed my dick straight into her, no condom.

"Inside her, the way I stuck it in her, how it felt, up in her, the way it went in, in her raw. The wettest and warmest I had in my life.

"I mean, I fucking raw-dogged her, and nearly broke that lawn chair, amazed it held up, the way we went it at, me on top, hammering away, our skins slapping, our bodies as one.

"The whole time she's moaning, whining and yelling 'no' as we do it, but she's kissing me and running her hands over me, fingers in my hair, hands on my shoulders.

"I almost stopped a couple times, but she pulled me back into her. She whispered to me not to stop but kept muttering 'no' and whining as we did it.

"In the heat of everything, after maybe 5 minutes of wild, nasty hot sex, I came, fucking bucketloads, inside her. It sobered us both up. She's all like 'fuck,' and when I got off her, she was dripping, down there, and put on a towel and ran to the bathroom.

"And I thought she'd be pissed about it when she came back.

"But she wasn't. She returned, kissed me on the cheek, and thanked me.

"She said she doubts she'll be pregnant, but would take medicine, the next day, just in case.

"I helped her up to my parents' bedroom and tucked her drunk ass in.

"Then I passed out on the couch. When my Dad came home from golfing, he was pissed we'd been drinking and were both passed out. He was angry, too, she didn't make him dinner.

"She was so groggy from the drinks, and, you know what else, that she didn't even come down for dinner. My Dad and I ordered a pizza. Fuck if that wasn't the most awkward dinner, sitting there with my Dad, talking sports, knowing I'd just had sex with his wife. My own Mom!

"I thought things would be awkward with her too. But she's been totally cool. She texted me the next day, told me how much fun she had, said we should 'do it' again, and that I should know what she meant. Winking emoji.

"Since then, we've been hooking up, going hard, doing things, positions I've never done before. She's a nympho.

"I've been going home when Dad isn't there. I had sex with her in my parents' bed. How crazy is that? Right where they sleep! She made sure to change the sheets afterwards, too. She's been quite careful. Kinda made me wonder if she's done this before.

"But she said she hadn't and wouldn't. Said she's comfortable with me, and that she couldn't have an affair, be with a stranger.

"She said that she loves me. In a different way than before. I feel the same too. Like we have fun, every time we're together. She's chill. But she, she is, of course, my Mom.

"Bro, I have no idea what to do. I told you it was complicated."

From right behind, the snobby blonde walked by, and had obviously heard some of Earl's confession. She beamed us a revolted expression.

"It's from, it's from this movie!" Earl yelled at her, unconvincingly.

He was a terrible liar, so this definitely must have been a true tale. It was no joke.

The blonde rolled her eyes, stalked off, and went back to being a bitch with her friends.

"Listen, man, it is what it is. It's certainly, different. I have no experience with these matters. But I say, just, go with it. Have a good time. I want you to be happy. If you're happy with it, I'm happy for you. And your secret is safe with me. Eternally."

We shook hands, and our shake evolved into us standing and grappling into a bearhug.

"I knew I could tell you," said a relieved Earl, sitting back down in his seat. "You're a true friend. A brother from another mother. And seriously, the sex, with her, it's like nothing else. It's magical. Try it yourself."

"Try what?" For a split second I thought he meant having sex with HIS mother, but then his real meaning passed through my buzzed skull.

"Yessir. You're single. Aren't your parents divorced? Isn't your Mom single? Go for it. How cool would that be? Two bros, both with their Moms.

"And, come to think of it, you could tell her about me and my Mom, if you think it'd help you get laid. My Mom and her are friends and, shit, if my Mom has enough to drink, she might tell your Mom anyway. Wouldn't surprise me."

I didn't reply to that. I was still flabbergasted by his admission. I was titillated too by it, I must say. His story was pretty hot. Our conversation set my mind off running.

We both had work the next day, so we split after I finished my drink, and shared an Uber back to our apartments.

After I came back home, my mind was racing so fast I had to write this diary entry.

Earl and his Mom, their sordid, wild affair, and thinking of chasing after, trying for my own Mom, it's been about the only thing I'm thinking of.

3/12/2021

The whole day, at my boring job, I sat in my cubicle, using my spare time to surf the net on my phone and read up on Mon/Son incest stories, watched Mon/Son incest videos.

Of course, I'd seen MILF porn, but I had no idea there was a whole genre of incest videos and tons of stories to read online.

Fuck, there are amazingly beautiful mature women porn actresses, like Ashley Fires, Alexis Fawx.

One video I saw was of a Mom doing yoga with her son, and her son tugging down her tight yoga pants. The son banging her from behind while the Mom chastised him for being a sex addict. Hot damn! It was so erotic I had to duck into an upstairs, rarely used, unisex bathroom, spit in my hand, and jerk off while staring at my phone.

My thoughts have been increasingly turning to that of my own Mother. The weekend is coming up. I wonder if she's busy?

Is she as cool as Earl's Mother? Would she let me play?

My Mom and Earl's Mom were friends, super-close, like me and Earl, and I saw pictures of them together on Facebook recently, having espressos at a coffee shop.

I wondered if Earl's Mom had told my Mom about what she'd been doing with her son.

I wondered how that conversation went. I wondered how my conservative Mom would react.

How would she feel if she knew I was having these thoughts? If she knew I was looking at her pictures online. Looking at her sunflower dresses, thinking of what was underneath. Thinking about her body, its form. How her tits felt. What the curvature of her lower body, her legs, her butt is like.

Did she have a hairy pussy? Did she trim it? What about her clitoris? Her labia? How did they look? How did they taste?

Since I started having sex I've loved going down on women, licking pussy. Nothing as tasty as a well-kempt pussy. I've been having thoughts of coating my Mother's pussy in honey, slurping away at it.

These have been the thoughts in my head. My Mother's body. How mysterious it is to me. It was like I was discovering women all over again.

There was a phase I went through when I was coming of age, getting hair on my nuts, and any, I mean any, women's ass or tits I would look at.

Yes, I had looked at my Mom, but only a few times, and not thought a lot of it since she never showed much anyhow.

She wore then, and still does now, long dresses. She's religious. She goes to Church every Sunday, always has.

That's why I was surprised when she divorced my Dad. They weren't a picture-perfect or unhappy couple. They just sort of were there. They were together. Maybe that was the problem.

The divorce wasn't contentious. They both told me the same thing, that it was time to go their separate ways. That was a year ago. I know, from Facebook, that my Dad is seeing a divorced lady, around his age, but I've not heard anything about my Mom seeing someone.

I don't talk too much with my Mom. We aren't super close. We talk on Facebook, quick messages, saying hi, once per week. But not much more.

Maybe it's time to change that.

I've been looking through her pictures on Facebook and, having this incest, MILF interest, I've been seeing her in a different light.

She's never been overweight or slim. She isn't short or tall. Her face wouldn't stop traffic. Not that she's not pretty. I just never saw her dolled up.

Maybe it's time to change that too. I wonder what she could look like. How hot she could be.

I'm tired of online dating, being catfished. I'm tired of snobby girls in bars. I'm tired of girls my age.

It's time to try my luck with a new lady. A more mature lady. "Luck be a mature lady tonight," a naughty Mr. Sinatra might sing.

Yes.

It's time to go after my Mom.

Why not?

I'm going to see what she's up to this weekend. Maybe she needs company.

I know I do.

3/13/2021

This morning, I texted my Mom, asked her what she was up to this weekend.

She replied to my text, curious why I was inquiring.

So, I called her, and the conversation went something like this:

"Hey Mom"

"Hey, what's up?" she answered, not accustomed to receiving my surprise phone calls. Her tenor was slightly bewildered.

"What are you doing this weekend?"

"Nothing. Why?"

"Let's have dinner."

"Dinner? Together? Or do you have a girl you'd like me to meet? It's time for you to think about marriage."

"There's only one girl I want to meet this weekend. You."

Mom chuckled and tsk-tsked at me.

"What is the sudden interest in me?"

"I thought you might want company. I want company this weekend too. Earl and his Mom have been spending a lot more time together, and Earl said it's been great. I was sort of hoping we could too."

"You know," my Mom said, then pausing for a second or two, "I was going to have lunch with Earl's Mother this Saturday."

"Have you seen her recently? Earl said she's doing really well. She's very happy."

The line went quiet. I could hear her take a drawn-out breath.

"Yes, recently, we've been talking a lot more. She was going through a rough patch. But she is very happy these days."

The way my Mom spoke was different. Her voice was more staccato.

"Let's you and I get together for dinner Saturday night."

"Where? The new Portuguese restaurant downtown? I've been wanting to try that."

"No. Come over to my apartment."

"Your apartment? Why? It's too small. Do you even know how to cook?"

"I am, maybe, going to learn."

She had a point. Rents being what they were, anyone my age wanting to save, ones with decent office jobs included, either had to have roommates or rent a studio to live in the city.

Still, though, my place being so small gave her nowhere to run or hide. The bed would never be too far away. Advantage: Me.

However, another valid point was that I couldn't cook.

Bingo! I could order delivery from the Portuguese restaurant under the guise that it'd be too crowded for a table Saturday night.