Election Day Ch. 02

Being under the table and fingering Mom as she sat at the Election Monitoring table seemed harmless enough. Hidden by the table skirt, no one could see us and it was just our little secret. I would not recommend it to anyone, though, unless he has set the stage. So, I guess a little back story is appropriate.

John and I had been friends forever, both deciding to attend the local university instead of going away. We were no different from any other guys, and that meant that once we went off to college and had our first taste of college pussy, we became fixated on our Moms. That may sound a bit on the edge of "right," but I don't think our fantasies were any different from the fantasies of any son. You see, every son wants to fuck his Mother. Once he becomes a man and knows what real sex, rather than imaginary sex, is like, he wonders how his Mother fucks. Every son masturbates to the thought of his Mother. Every son makes attempts to see how far he can get. It's just the ten to twenty percent, more or less, who progress along the road to heaven. Every Mother has experienced a sexual moment with her son. Every son has made an overt sexual move on his Mother. Maybe it was just a touch on her arm, a playful rub on her fanny, or maybe even more. It's all in the intent of the actor, isn't it? If the recipient is in a receptive mood, a playful rub against her butt might be interpreted as just what it is intended, and lead to more. If she's not in on the game, then it may not lead to more. But it's there.

I can remember, as distinctly as if it happened yesterday, when I decided to really make my first move on Mom. John and I were in my room, playing a video game and talking smack. When Mom stuck her head in the door and asked if we wanted a snack, we were so engrossed in the game that we said no, we'd get something later. When she left, John missed an easy shot and I punched him on the arm.

"Dude. How could you miss that?"

"Jeez. Your Mom is beautiful. Don't you ever notice that?"

I didn't know what to say. John and I talked about sex a lot, but our Mothers had always been off-limits. It's not that we had an understood rule about it, but talking about our Mothers was just something we didn't do. We talked about our friends' Mothers all the time, but never our own. We each had our favorite among our friends' Moms. John liked Tommy's Mom, Beth, and I liked Joe's Mom, Marianna. But our own Moms were off-limits, so I didn't know how to respond.

"Uh. Yeah. She's okay."

"She's more than okay, Dude. I'd put her above Beth. Any day."

Now that was saying something. John had described to me many a time the fantasies he had about Tommy's Mom and if he put my Mom above her, then that meant he had some pretty hot images in his head.

The game was paused and I whispered to him, "Would you?"

"Oh, hell, yes," he replied fervently. "Wouldn't you?"

Of course I would. I thought of little else. She was the star in practically all my jerk off sessions. But I didn't know where this conversation was going. Maybe John, with his quirky sense of humor, was trying to trick me into a confession he could use to taunt me endlessly. But what the hell? John was my best friend, and we had few secrets. So what was one more?

"In a New York minute," I whispered back to him. "She drives me crazy." But I wasn't going to put that out there without something from him, so I continued. "Don't you want it with Meghan?"

"Oh, fuck, yes!" John was grinning from ear to ear. He repeated it. "Oh, fuck, yes."

It was like a dam had burst. All those years of talking around the subject and now, at last, we could let it all out.

John took the lead. "Can you imagine that red haired bush in your face while you did 69 with her?"

I laughed out loud. "Are you kidding me? I doubt she's ever done that, or even knows what it means." As far as I knew, that was the truth. I had never seen Mom do anything overtly sexual with Dad. As far as I knew, she only had sex three times, and that had produced me and my sisters.

But John had set me to thinking, and the more I thought, the more reckless I felt. I have always had an analytical bent, so I got a notebook and started scribbling. I established a sort of continuum, with "Do Nothing" at one pole, and "Mom, Would You Like To Give Me a Blowjob" at the other. Clearly, both would produce the same result, which would be no progress, and the more effective response would be somewhere in the middle. Now I just had to figure out what that response should be.

The next time John and I got together, I pitched the idea to him so we could war-game some courses of action. He loved it.

"Bill, my man. I love how you think. So you're saying we go into this with a plan? You think that could work? I mean, really?"

"I think it could. It's at least worth a try. Look, in any interaction, if one person has a plan and the other does not, which do you think has the more likely chance of success?"

John thought a bit. "Well, yeah, I get what you're saying, but this is different. In my case, Mom may not have a plan she's thought about, but I'm guessing there is an established line she won't cross. What Mother has thought about fucking her Son?"

I laughed. "Show me one, and we'll know who to fuck next. Maybe Beth?"

That got a laugh out of John, because Beth was, apart from Meghan, the Mom he most wanted to fuck. "Oh, yeah," he moaned.

I continued. "I'm not sure you're right about that, though, Johnny."

"Right about what?"

"That Mothers never think about fucking their Sons."

"You think?" John furrowed his brow. "You really think?"

"Well, I've read that Mothers do think, sometimes, about their Sons as sexual creatures, especially once the Sons are finally men and have what the Mothers think might be a sex life. They can't help it. They have to think about whether he's a good lover and what his package may be like. From there, it's a short step for the brain to make the connection - what would he be like to fuck? They can't help it."

"But doesn't that leave us out? If there are exceptions to any rule, then our Mothers are the exception to that one."

"John, John, John, John. Don't overthink this. Let's just make a plan and see where it goes. We're going to ease into this gently, so we can stop at any time, but as long as we make progress, we'll keep going."

"So, what's our plan?" John was clearly looking at me to be the leader, and I had no more idea about how to progress than he had.

"Hmmm." I thought. "You may be on to something. Maybe we have to first get that idea that we are sexual in their heads."

"And?," John replied.

"Well, we've been working out, so we're not muscle men yet, but we're looking better than we did two summers ago. You ever catch her looking at you when you have your shirt off? Mom told me the other day that I was looking pretty good. I'd say that's a start."

"Yeah, Mom has told me the same thing, but I think it was pretty innocent."

"Okay," I said. "So we're looking pretty good in their eyes, but doesn't every Mother think her Son is handsome? We have to get to the next step. We have to let them know that we see them as women, and not just Moms. We're going to have to make an overt move at some point. That will be the risky part."

"Risky?" John laughed. "As in getting your head knocked off and thrown out of the house?"

I laughed, too. "We'll do it in a way that minimizes the risk. Tiny steps, so she can shut it down at any time, with no harm, no foul." We thought about it.

John piped up. "Okay. Look, you think Linda's pretty hot, right? You think she's beautiful?"

"Of course I do. Hell, she is."

"Then tell her," John said. "Don't say it in those exact words, but what if you said something like, 'God, you're a beautiful woman,' when it's just you and her? Say it with passion, but don't do anything else. Just lay it out there and see how she responds."

So, that became our plan. We figured there was no use in planning out the whole campaign until we knew whether step one had worked, so we agreed that we'd give it a shot that night and see where it took us.

The next morning, my phone rang early and it was John. "I'm in," he chortled. "You chicken out?"

"Didn't chicken out, but I don't know how it worked," I said. "Why don't you come over and we'll compare notes?"

I jumped in the shower and, I have to admit, spent a pretty long time washing my dick. It was still hard when I walked out of the shower to find Mom bent over my bed, making it for me. Her butt looked so good, I couldn't help it. I slapped it playfully and quickly said, "Mom, I can make my own bed. You don't have to do that."

She straightened up and looked at me. "What's up with you? Last night you tell me I'm beautiful and now you're rubbing my butt?"

This was getting way out front. I was not ready for this conversation, but there it was. I could either play it off, or address it. I had my shorts on, but no shirt, and rubbed the towel over my chest. She watched me do it, but I couldn't read her face.

"I can't help it, Mom. You are beautiful. I can't help it. You're the most beautiful and exciting woman I've ever seen."

She laughed. "Oh, those teenaged hormones are raging, aren't they? Well, try to control yourself, Mister Casanova, and don't ever let anyone see you doing something like that. Understand?"

My heart was in my throat. Now I understood that phrase. I could hardly speak. "I understand. I'll be careful."

"You'd better be," she said, and then came over and kissed me on the cheek. "What am I going to do with you?," she whispered.

In for a penny, in for a pound. I laughed and said, "Well, I've got some suggestions."

She guffawed at that. "Oh, I'll bet you do."

I hugged her to me. If she didn't feel my hard dick, it wasn't my fault. She hugged me back for a moment and then pushed me away. "Get dressed," she said. "I'll have your breakfast ready when you come down."

When John got there, his excitement was palpable. We rushed up to my room, shouting to Mom, "Gotta hot game going, Mom." She just shook her head.

John and I both started talking as soon as my door was shut. "No, you go first," I told him.

"You won't believe it." His face was red. "Last night I helped her with the dishes. She was standing at the sink as I was bringing the dishes from the table. I rubbed against her ass as I put them in the sink. When I did it, and I know she had to feel my cock on her butt, she stiffened up and turned around. I didn't know what she was going to say. Well, she didn't say anything, just turned back around and rinsed the dishes. I stood behind her, put my arms around her, and kissed the back of her neck."

"Yeah, yeah. What happened next? That was bold, my man. That wasn't our plan."

"But it worked, Bill. That's what I'm telling you. I kissed her neck and she just kind of hung her head down to let her hair fall away. I kissed up her neck to her ear. I told her how beautiful I thought she was."

"What did she say?"

"She said something like, 'Get control of yourself and remember I'm your Mother."

"Oh. That could be a show stopper. What did you say?"

"I said I knew she was my Mother and I knew she was a beautiful woman. We were whispering. I never knew whispers could be so sexy. I still had my arms around her, hugging her back into my cock. Finally she took my hands off her stomach and pushed them away. She said, 'I've forgotten what boys are like. Just try to control yourself. This will pass, you know. It's just a phase.' "

"I told her I wasn't sure it was going to pass. I told her I couldn't think of anything but her. Man, if you could have seen her face. Everything I told her was true, and she was eating it up. Then she said the most beautiful thing."

"What? What?"

"She said, 'I guess I'll just have to enjoy it while it lasts, then. But you'd better be careful that no one sees you doing things like that with me. What would your Father say if he saw that?"

"So what'd you do then? What did you say?"

"I didn't say anything. Just finished clearing the table. But you know she's thinking about it. You know she is. Now what about you? What did you do?"

I told him. "Last night I waited until Dad went upstairs for bed. I hugged her and told her goodnight, and held the hug longer than usual. She said, 'What's that for? You hardly ever hug me anymore.' I told her it's because she's so beautiful and I'm afraid of her, you know. She told me she missed my hugs, and I did it again. I know she had to feel my dick." Then I told him what happened this morning and how she told me to be careful that no one see me touch her ass.

We talked about what that meant - what they had said to us. We agreed that we had accomplished our goal, and that our Mothers knew we were hot for them. I guess that should be no surprise to anyone, what with Oedipus Complex and all, but we had our cards on the table. What was best, in both cases, was that they had not shut us down. They had told us, in so many words, that it was okay, but we had to be careful.

John blurted out. "Right! If we weren't their Sons and we did that to them, and they told us to be careful, they'd be saying as much as, 'Yeah, we're going to fuck, but no one can know.' I mean, if we were some guy at work and made that move, and got that response, it would tell us something. Right?"

"That's what I'm thinking," I told him. "But we have to be careful. We can't spook them. We have to take tiny steps, you know. Don't rush in, or we'll just scare them off. Remember, we have a plan and we know where we want it to lead, but they don't. We've thought about our next moves, but they just respond in the moment."

So we decided that we would hold what he had, so to speak, and consolidate our positions. What that translated into for me was that I became more affectionate around Mom when we were alone. When anyone else was around us, I was as standoffish with her as I had ever been. But the minute we were alone, I went in for a hug. I knew I was making progress one evening when Dad and my sisters left the kitchen to watch television, and Mom and I were left to clean up. As soon as they walked out, Mom turned to me and held her arms out, with a sweet smile on her face. It dawned on me - she expected me to hug her - so I did, and made it a long, tight one. I was as hard as a rock, and she had to feel it rubbing against her belly. After a bit, she pulled back and smiled up at me. I did what was natural, and that was to bend down and kiss her lips. No tongue, mind you, but I gave her a nice, gentle kiss. After I had done it she looked up at me and didn't say anything, just held eye contact.

"Was that okay?" I asked. "Are you mad?"

"No, Baby, I'm not mad. I'm just wondering where my little boy went, and where this man came from."

I laughed nervously and we went into the family room together, but inside I was rejoicing. Whether she realized it or not, she had made quite a statement. She acknowledged that I was now a man, albeit still a young man, but a man, nonetheless. And, more importantly, a man who desire her. We all settled down to watch television together and from time to time I would look at her. I don't know what she thought, but as far as I knew, my looks were smoldering. Hell, they had to be, because I was sitting there with a constant boner which I had to cover with a throw pillow to keep it from drawing the attention of my sisters. Once when my eyes were burning holes at Mom, she furrowed her brow and gave me "the look." She kind of hung back when everyone went upstairs, and I stayed to help her tidy up the family room.

"Bill, quit staring at me like that. Do you think the others don't notice? I saw Amanda watching you, you idiot. You can't be so obvious. Just cool it." She was mad.

"I can't help it. You're just so beautiful to me."

"Oh, Honey. This is just a phase. You'll grow out of it. You'll find someone nice and forget about all this."

Hmmm. So she knew what I wanted, and seemed to be willing to talk about it. I knew that John and I had made our plan to take it slow and easy, but this seemed too much of an opportunity. At least I could take a risk and see where it went. "I don't think I'll ever get over you. Don't you have any idea what you do to me? You are in every dream. All I'll ever want is you." I put my hand on her waist and gently pulled her toward me.

To my surprise, she kissed me. She came to me with her lips pursed and her mouth slightly open, and we kissed like we had never kissed before. I didn't know whether I should go for some tongue action or not, then her tongue gently touched my lower lip. That was it. One thing about being a horny teenager is that you learn to kiss, because that's likely all you'll get from the teenaged girls you date. I gave Mom everything I had. I reached up with my right hand and gently cupped her face, my fingers lightly caressing her cheek, and then smoothed her hair back and put my hand on the back of her head, pulling her into me. My God, was I surprised at how she got into it. My Mom was a sexy woman, and a great kisser!

We kissed like that for awhile - it seemed like ages to me - then she pulled back from me and looked in my eyes. "Baby," she said, "this is moving pretty fast. We'd better cool it. I don't want to scar you for life," and she giggled.

"Scar me for life? Hell, woman, you just made my life worth living," and I leaned in to kiss her again. "Just one more for the road?"

She sighed. "You young guys. That's all you think about." But she let me kiss her and there was no hesitancy this time in either of us. I put my arms around her waist, then slowly slid my right hand down to her ass. I thought she'd probably react angrily at that, but to my pleasant surprise, she didn't. Both hands cupping and massaging her ass now, I pulled her against my dick, while I hunched it against her. This time there was no wondering whether she could feel it or not - I was dry humping the hell out of her, and she was kissing me feverishly.

Funny how your mind works. All I could think was that a week ago I was making tiny baby steps at getting close to her, and now I was practically fucking her standing up. I started moving my left hand up her waist to cup her right breast, and that's when she stopped us. She pulled back from me, took my hand in hers and folded out hands in between us. Whether she knew it or not, she had the back of my hand pushing against her breast. "Billy, I just can't do this. I love you more than anything and there's nothing I won't give you, but I can't give you that. Just understand." She was pleading by this time. "I know what you want, but that's something you can't have. Promise me."

I leaned forward and kissed the tip of her nose. "I love you, Mom, more than you'll ever know. You've always been the best Mother, and nothing could ever change how I love you. I promise that I'll never do anything that anyone could see and embarrass you, but I promise that when we're alone I'm going to be kissing that beautiful face." I wanted to tell her that I couldn't wait to see that beautiful face on my dick, but I did have some discretion, so I didn't. Besides, I meant what I said.

She laughed as she turned away to head upstairs. "That's a deal," she said, and I looked at her butt as she watched me.

"Hubba hubba," I said. "God, Mom, you have a perfect ass."

"Oh, you," she sighed. "Go to bed before someone comes looking for us."