Eye of the Appreciator

Unreal. Just thirty minutes ago I was being shot down in the kitchen and now I was on the verge of firing a load down Mom's throat. Something about Dad showing up really put her into a frenzy. She must really resent him.

Mom grabbed my shaft with her right hand and began jacking me off while swirling her tongue around my head. I couldn't make this last any longer and, with a heavy grunt, nutted hard. Again, Mom swallowed it down, wiping a drop from the corner of her mouth before sucking it off her finger. Fuck...

Standing, Mom straightened her dress and made for the door. "Dinner will be at six o'clock," she said over her shoulder as she left me collapsed on my bed, head spinning.

---

I knew better than to try something again the next day, or the one after that. At this point, I was learning how Mom worked. Give her some recharge time, let some tension build, then when she's ready, she'll let me know. I kept up the flirting, but didn't go beyond a few light touches here and there.

The following week, there were two separate nights when I heard through the vent that my parents were fighting again.

On Thursday morning, after the second fight, I decided to do an experiment. I needed to see what would happen in order to figure out what made Mom tick.

Mom and Dad were sitting together in silence having coffee and breakfast when I came upstairs.

"Morning," I said, before leaning over to kiss Mom on the corner of her mouth. "You look beautiful today." I smiled widely at her as I rubbed her back for a few moments.

Mom initially appeared surprised that I'd be so brazen in front of Dad, but a moment later a big grin broke out on her face and she beamed with pride. "Thank you, honey," she said.

"Something weird is going on with you lately, boy." Dad said mockingly.

I didn't look at him while I poured my coffee and spread some jam on a piece of toast. "Just giving Mom a compliment, Dad. Don't you think she deserves it?" Then I did look at him, keeping my face neutral and cocking my head to the side.

Mom held her breath, sitting up and suddenly becoming very attentive as Dad and I exchanged glares.

"When did you become such a Momma's boy?" He asked me.

"Is there something wrong with a guy appreciating his Mom?" I managed to keep my voice calm, despite the fear I felt inside. I had never stood up to Dad.

Mom's eyes darted back and forth between the two of us.

Dad appeared genuinely dumbfounded by the situation and let it go, shaking his head. "I've got to get to work. See you two later." He robotically kissed Mom's cheek and stood up.

"Goodbye, Dear," Mom said as he left the kitchen.

Mom casually sipped her coffee, not saying anything to me, while Dad gathered up a few things from around the house and went out the door.

I finished my toast and brought my dishes to the sink. As I watched Dad in the driveway, I felt Mom behind me.

"That was very bold of you." She wrapped her arms around me, groping my package. My cock quickly came to life.

She massaged my hard rod for thirty seconds as, together, we observed Dad get into his truck and start the engine.

Turning, I watched Mom slide to her knees, sliding her hands down my torso and thighs and continuing to look up at me. She hugged my waist, letting the side of her face mash against my cock.

I watched in amazement as she started to mouth me over top of my pajama pants, working her lips around my fabric-covered cylinder. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Dad pull out and drive away as Mom finally flipped my waistband down and inhaled my length.

I came less than a minute later. With Mom's prowess, she could make a blowjob go quick when she wanted to. She hungrily drank everything I gave her before standing up and kissing me full on the mouth. "Thank you for being so good to your Mother," she whispered in my ear before leaving me standing alone in the kitchen.

I ended up being late for work, but I couldn't have cared less.

---

Over the next few weeks, I continued to discreetly flirt with and touch Mom, becoming more brazen with time. She ended up sucking me off a few more times, too. That usually happened when she was mad at Dad for something or after I had gotten her really worked up by touching her while he was in the other room.

One Saturday, after we had done another drawing session in the living room, Mom came and sat beside me. While looking at my drawings, her hand had journeyed to my crotch and found my hardness. After playing with it for a minute, she unclasped my pants and fished it out, her hand continuing to slide up and down my shaft. When she saw me squirming and knew that I was about to shoot my spunk, she said in a scolding tone, "you better not make a mess on this couch, Mister." Then she opened her mouth and covered my head a moment before I detonated. There was something about doing it in her living room that got me extra excited.             

I continued to be amazed at the effort and enthusiasm that she put into pleasuring me. Every blowjob felt absolutely amazing as she swirled her tongue around and around my head. She seemed to love having my thing in her mouth and would greedily engulf my entire shaft repeatedly until I ejaculated down her throat. Then she'd make eye contact with me while proudly swallowing my load. Those were the moments when I really knew that I had a Mother who loved and cared about me. Sometimes a guy needs that.

She snuck down to my bedroom once more, as well, about an hour after I had heard my parents fighting. She posed for me again, telling me to draw her. But this time, after I instructed her to remove her robe, she was topless underneath. I spent fifteen minutes on two studies of her wonderful boobs before she straddled me and pulled my face between them, grinding her snatch against my hardness.

Like the first time, I had desperately tried to slide back far enough to get my tip to probe her entrance. But just as she felt me threatening to penetrate her, she had released a frustrated moan before sliding her groove backward, returning my tip to the safe zone.

"I'm sorry baby, we- we can't do that!" She had reluctantly wailed. "We can't commit incest."

I'm not sure which one of us was more frustrated in that moment.

Instead, she had continued to expertly work her hips forward and back until we both came from the exquisite friction. Both of our stomachs as been thoroughly painted with my jizz as we mashed and slid our torsos together.

I didn't try to get into her again after that. She was being firm with her limits and, all things considered, I was in a pretty good position. Most guys could only dream of getting sucked off once by their Mom, and here I was sneaking around with and getting regular blowjobs from mine. I resolved to enjoy what I had.

For the moment, at least.

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Interlude 2

Sandra didn't like having to work the morning shift. Getting up early was tough for her, being a woman who much preferred the nights to the mornings. She loved staying up late with her thoughts and cigarettes. But lately she'd been staying up late for a different reason.

She shut off her alarm clock and rolled over to kiss her sleeping son. He briefly awoke at the feel of her mouth on his and returned the kiss before falling back into his slumber. Sandra smiled. He didn't have class that day, and, knowing him, he wouldn't stir for another few hours.

Spending the last month with Jace had been so special. The day after their first night together he had returned home from school to find her waiting for him on the couch. She had been bending over one of the arm rests, wearing nothing but a t-shirt which only covered the top half of her tush.

"What took you so long?" She'd asked him, her pussy peaking out and glistening with anticipation.

It hadn't taken him more than three seconds to drop both his book bag and his pants.

Since then they had scarcely missed a day of mating. Sandra smiled as she reminisced on those initial weeks of wild abandon.

She got in her car and left for work, arriving at the mall at 8:30 AM in order to get the store opened up for 9 o'clock.

Fashion wasn't actually a passion for her. Los Elegantes was really just a job, something to pay the bills. She knew today would be long. However, her anticipation for her weekend plans would get her through it.

She had recently gotten into contact with her father and they had made plans to see each other. She would be driving out Saturday morning to see him and she expected to be spending the night. Thinking about how she would wear one of those skimpy skirts got her all tingly. First she would waltz around in front of him, then she would catch him ogling her a few times just like he used to, and then...

The last month of her life had brought a lot of healing to her. It had been so therapeutic to set herself free. Free to do what she wanted. To reconnect with her son. To bond. To mate. She smiled as she pondered how quickly things could change. And how the path forward had always been right there in front of her.

As expected, the morning dragged on. At 1 PM she took her lunch break. And as she began walking to the food court she was met with a pleasant surprise.

"Maria!" she exclaimed, approaching the beautiful woman in the mall hallway. Wow, she's just as pretty as I remember her.

"Oh, Hi Sandra," Maria smiled at her, setting down her armload of shopping bags. The two women hugged lightly. Though they had only met once, there was a natural connection between them, as if they had known each other for years.

"Maria, I was just about to have lunch, please join me! I really want to talk with you."

"Of course, Sandra, I've just finished shopping and I was going to have something to eat, myself."

They each ordered a salad and sat down. Sandra had selected a table away from the crowd, wanting some privacy as she began their conversation.

"Maria, are you not with your son today?"

"No, Tyson normally has to work during the week."

"Oh, what a shame. He is such a sweet boy... and so handsome!" Sandra lightly teased, touching Maria's arm.

Maria blushed. "Yes... yes, he is."

"You two have a beautiful relationship. In fact, your advice was perfect for me. It turned out that all my son, Jace, needed was a bit of inspiration to start noticing me, too." Sandra beamed.

Maria's eyes opened. "You mean... you two have become closer? Oh, Sandra, that's wonderful!"

"Mhmmmm," Sandra hummed. "Much closer."

An awkward tension suddenly arrived, as if the two women were perched on the edge of a precipice. Would they continue forward?

Maria broke the silence. "...Much closer, you say?"

Sandra blushed, too nervous to speak. Until now, her new relationship with Jace had been a secret.

"How close?" Maria pressed.

Sandra took a deep breath. Then spoke, "Maria, can I trust you?"

"Of course," her response came quickly as she perked up. Maria also felt the unspoken bond that the two mothers shared.

Sandra spoke again, a bit reluctantly. "Maria, Jace and I... we've been... doing things. Do you understand?"

Maria looked uncertain, "What have you been doing? Going for walks together? Does he shop with you, too?"

"No, Maria," Sandra chuckled. "We've been doing... naughty things."

Maria's eyes suddenly opened wide as she shyly gazed downward. "Oh, my..."

Sandra voice took a slightly more serious tone, "Do you and your son... do naughty things?"

Maria couldn't meet Sandra's eyes. Her cheeks went strawberry red. "Yes... Yes, we do." Her admission came reluctantly but seemed to take a weight off of her chest.

"I knew it!" Sandra exclaimed, the tension gone. "I could tell by the way he looked at you and touched you. Oh, Maria, isn't it wonderful, feeling him inside of you? Your own son!"

"Inside? Oh, Sandra, we haven't gone that far. But, yes, being... intimate with him has been wonderful. It makes me feel so youthful and sexy."

Sandra looked surprised. "You mean... you haven't actually... done it? He hasn't tried?"

"No, we haven't. I mean... I think about it. I know he wants it. He's been trying. But... I just can't cross that line."

Sandra listened empathetically and took Maria's hand in hers before responding. "You're right. It is a big decision. But, believe me, I am so happy that I took that step with Jace. You musn't deny him, Maria, a sweet boy like Tyson, he deserves it. Don't you think?"

Maria thought for a moment, then spoke. "It's not that I don't think he deserves it. He does. It's just that I don't know if I can bring myself to do it. What would the world think of me? What kind of Mother would I be if I let... incest happen between us?"

"Our world is cruel, Maria. It is quick to judge and slow to understand," Sandra waxed philosophical. "There are a lot of ways to show love, but the truth that I've grown to understand, Darling, is that incest is a pathway to the purest connection that two people can share. It's a beautiful thing. But, unfortunately, our world... our society... it isn't ready to accept that. And that's okay."

Maria listened, her eyes wide.

Sandra continued, driving the nail deeper. "Maria, let me guess, you're having problems with your husband?"

"I... yes. Yes, I am," Maria confessed, emotion in her voice. "How did you know?"

Sandra smirked. "Trust me, I know women. I meet lots of them each week. They come to the store for an escape, looking to feel pretty and appreciated. I can see when the pressures of home life are getting to them, when the pressure of pleasing their husbands is wearing them down. When they've given so much and received so little. All they want is to be noticed."

Maria nodded, listening intently.

"I can read a situation like yours," Sandra continued. "Haven't you lived for your husband long enough? Lived for society long enough? Oh, sweetheart, it's time for you to make yourself happy. Take control of your life, Darling. You deserve it." She finally released Maria's hand.

After a long pause, Maria spoke. "Thank you, Sandra. I think I really needed to hear that."

Sandra had to return to the store then and stood from the table, leaning down to kiss Maria's cheek and thank her once more for joining her for lunch. Before she left, she slipped Maria a card with her number on it. "Don't hesitate to reach out," she said.

Looking back, Sandra saw Maria sitting for several more minutes at their table, peacefully alone with her thoughts.

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Part 3

After a full month of consistent warmth from Mom, she suddenly seemed to become colder and closed off. The oral sex stopped and so did the kissing. She didn't respond to any of my touches or flirtations and she even lightly pushed my hands away when I was too forward. I knew that she'd been a bit hot and cold before, and that sometimes she needed space, but this felt like she had chosen to put her walls back up permanently. I worried that my fears were coming true and that she'd had a change of heart around our new relationship. Maybe she even felt guilty. Damn, I had been so close!

After a week of getting nowhere with her, I accepted that the fun was probably over. It had been a great run and, honestly, I'd gotten farther in my journey than I thought I would. We had made some great memories that Mom and I would always share.

The next Friday night, Mom told Dad and I not to make any plans for the next day because we'd be having a special family dinner.

She spent all afternoon on Saturday cooking a roast, with steamed vegetables, mashed potatoes, gravy, cranberry sauce, and plenty of fixings. It wasn't rare for Mom to put extra effort into a meal, but this was a lot, even for her. Honestly, I was confused. Was she trying to mend her problems with Dad by doubling down on her role as a housewife? The truth was, I hadn't heard them fighting all week. Maybe they had started to fix things. That was bad news for me.

I tried lending a hand but she didn't let me help at all, shooing me out of the kitchen every time I tried to pick up a spoon or chop something.

After she finished preparing everything she went into her room to shower and change after sweating and slaving all day over the stove. Then she called Dad and I to the table.

My eyes almost bulged out of my face when I saw her. She had changed into the burgundy skirt that she'd worn for me before and her hips and butt looked even better than I'd remembered. Flashbacks of lifting it up and pressing my hand against her panty-covered crotch shot through my mind. It took everything I had to resist simply grabbing her. At this point, she was just rubbing it in. Up top, she wore a frilly, white blouse, modestly buttoned up to her neck. It fit her perfectly, hugging her form and really molding to her voluptuous chest. Mom had curled her hair and pinned it up in two tight buns, letting a few loose, wavy strands hang down to frame her lovely face. She wasn't wearing much makeup, but I think she'd dabbed on a touch of blush. Never losing her classiness, she truly looked pretty enough to be on the cover of one of her magazines. Nobody could deny that my Mother was an extremely elegant woman.

Dressed like that and standing in her kitchen over the feast she'd prepared for her men, Mom really looked the part of a classic 50s housewife. She absolutely must have been trying for that look. So that's why her and Dad have been getting along so well. I guess all the fighting got to her and now she's decided to give him what he wants. Damn, I thought as I continued to construct a working hypothesis to explain her behavior.

As we sat together at the table enjoying dinner, Dad did most of the talking. He loved what his wife had done and was gleeful. And to top it off, apparently he had out-shot all of his golf buddies that afternoon. Nothing could bring down his mood tonight.

Mom stood up to get him fresh beers a few times during the meal, kissing his cheek and rubbing his shoulders each time after setting his drink in front of him. He had come home from golf already a bit buzzed and, at this rate, he'd be drunk by the time we finished dinner.

As Dad spoke, Mom would affectionately rub his arm and encourage him to continue entertaining us with his glory stories. My hypothesis was only strengthened when she would then say to him, "of course, you're the best golfer in the club. You've got so much natural talent, and is there anyone there with more dedication than you?"

"Well, sweetheart, I must admit that it's nice for somebody to notice!" He responded. I cringed internally as Mom squeezed his hand and smiled warmly at him.

Dad was the last to finish eating and, after pushing his empty plate toward Mom, leaned back and belched loudly. "What a meal!" He loudly declared. "Mar, you've got to cook like this more often." To my disbelief, Mom simply took his dirty dishes to the sink and said not a word about his rudeness. I had never known her to tolerate such a display in her kitchen.

Even after all of this odd behavior, I was still surprised when Mom then poured him a glass of whiskey. Especially considering that she usually didn't even allow hard liquor in the house. It was official, Mom had either gone nuts or she had decided that she was willing to do anything to save her marriage. By the time she had finished tidying up the kitchen, Dad was slurring his words.

After pouring him yet another glass of whiskey, Mom told Dad to relax in the living room. It wasn't long after that that he was quietly dozing off in the chair. Mom gently woke him up, telling him to go to bed and leading him to their room. I bet he passed out like a rock when his head hit the pillow.