Happy Valentine's Day, Mommy!

"Mom! What are you doing home?"

"It's Valentine's Day. I left early," she said staring at me from the front door.

Oh, my God. I couldn't help it. I couldn't stop it. My whole body shuddered, shook, and convulsed in spasms. I exploded cum everywhere. My cum shot itself across the room. If there was a Guinness record for the longest and highest cum shot, I'd be the world's new record holder. My cum flew everywhere. It just exploded and, as if a small bird with big wings, it flew across the room before diving bombing the carpet.

"Mom," was all I could say, again.

My mother saw me masturbating. My mother saw my cock. My mother just stood there with her mouth gaping open, while watching me explode cum everywhere. A nightmare worse than any I could imagine, I was embarrassed beyond tears.

I got up off the couch, pulled up my pants, ran to my room, and slammed shut the door. Oh, my God, I was so embarrassed. Mortified. I felt like such a pervert. I couldn't believe she caught me masturbating. She saw everything.

My mother saw my cock, my balls, and my pubic hair. She saw everything. She saw me masturbating. She saw me shoot cum across the room. Fuck, I didn't even clean it up.

Yet, what was I supposed to do? Was I supposed to get up off the couch, while trying to preserve whatever modesty I had left and get on my hands and knees with my pants down around my ankles to clean up my own cum? She's probably on her hands and knees now cleaning my cum out of the living room rug, before it stains and hardens and remains there in the deep plush pile of the carpet forever, as evidence of my perverted lust.

I'm such a damn retarded pervert. I'm so embarrassed. How can I ever face her?

I stripped off all my clothes but for my tee shirt and put on my pajama bottoms. I pulled back the covers, turned off the light, and went to bed with the covers pulled tightly over my head. I was tired, anyway, exhausted really. After cumming off like that, I was drained. I needed to nap. I needed to hide myself in my room and never come out. How could I face my mother ever again?

I couldn't believe I actually fell asleep. I didn't know what time it was when I heard a knock on my bedroom door.

"Stephen. I made supper. C'mon, Honey, don't be embarrassed. Let's forget about what happened and what I saw. I didn't see anything really. Okay? It's Valentine's Day. I made you your favorite meal. And I bought a bottle of champagne. Come celebrate with me. Don't leave me out here alone on Valentine's Day of all days."

"Okay," I said rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

She sounded so sad and I didn't want to disappoint her and ruin her evening. I couldn't believe it was 8:00. I had slept for 3 hours. Only, I was still tired. Then, I remembered my Mom coming home early just as I was cumming off. She never comes home on time forget about coming home early.

This is the worst day of my life. I'm so embarrassed. How can I face her? What do I say to her? She saw my cock. She saw me masturbating. She watched me cum.

I slipped on my slippers and threw a loose bathrobe over my pajama bottoms. There was no need to get dressed and undressed again, when I'd be going to bed again soon. When I went out in the kitchen to get my plate of food, my Mom looked like she had been crying.

"Mom, what's the matter?"

I figured she was crying because her son is a pervert.

"Nothing. It's just Valentine's Day is depressing when you don't have that special someone in your life."

Tell me about it, I thought, suddenly missing Amy.

"Yeah, I know what you mean. Only, I can't imagine how you must feel. It's been longer for you not having a special someone."

I suddenly felt so bad for my Mom. She's been alone and on her own for years. My feelings for her happiness eclipsed my feelings of loneliness, horniness, and embarrassment that she saw me shoot a load of my cum across the living room. I was just so glad that I had remembered my Mom with a card, flowers, and chocolates.

"Thank you for the card, the flowers, and the chocolates" she said. "C'mon, it's a special night. Let's sit in the living room while watching TV."

Once in the living room, I looked for the signs of my most embarrassing moment, but she must have already removed it. How embarrassing to have my Mom clean up my cum? Gees. Then, I spotted the champagne.

"Can we open the champagne?"

I looked at the bottle chilling in the ice bucket. I needed a drink to remove the thought from my mind that my Mom had seen my cock and watched me masturbating.

"Sure, that's a good idea to have it with our food. That way neither one of us will get tipsy."

Only, we both got more than a little tipsy. Something inherited from my Mom, no doubt, neither one of us has a tolerance for alcohol, especially for champagne. It goes right to our heads. After only the second glass of bubbly, we were both feeling the effects of it by talking more and laughing over nothing. With the third glass, well, it's a good thing that neither one of us were driving.

Then, she started crying again. She looked so very sad. No doubt, with the alcohol being a depressant, it added to her sadness.

"Mom. Don't. C'mon, you'll find someone. Don't worry," I said putting my arm around her.

She put her arm around my waist and we stayed like that, with her leaning in to me and with her head on my shoulder, while watching TV. I don't even remember what we were watching. All I knew was that between the champagne and my Mom holding me like that and me being so close to my Mom, I was beginning to get sexually aroused.

I was always getting sexually aroused. At twenty-years old, able to masturbate five times a day, I was a walking combination testosterone and cum factory. My Mom at only 39-years-old was hardly over the hill. If she was anything, she was a MILF, especially when compared to my friend's mothers who were all fat and married in unhappy marriages.

At my age, it doesn't take much for me to have an erection and I sure had one now. My cock had pitched a small pup tent beneath my pajamas and bathrobe. Knowing that my Mom surely noticed it, I was a little embarrassed and when she did, not wanting to encourage my lewd behavior, no doubt, she pulled her arm away and sat up straight.

I was embarrassed not only that I had an erection but also that my Mom saw that I had an erection. I felt like such a pervert. I can't believe I got an erection over my Mom and that my mom noticed that she had excited me in that way just by holding me and hugging me.

We each reached for our champagne and had more to drink. Then, I poured us a fourth glass. I didn't want to waste it. Besides, the bottle was nearly empty now, anyway. And those flutes looked so small. Surely, we weren't drunk, were we?

Hoping to cheer her up, it was then that I decided to give her the nightgown. Had it not been for the champagne, I never would have given my Mom a nightgown, especially one so sexy, as a Valentine's Day gift. I mean, if the nightgown had been a long flannel one, that would have been acceptable, but this one, well, oh boy, was outrageous. I couldn't believe I was going to give it to her.

"Where you going?" She looked up at me, as if I was leaving her to go to bed.

"I have a special surprise for you."

"You do? But, you already gave me a card, flowers, and chocolates."

"This is something special that I saw and I thought of you. You don't have anyone to buy you something as nice as this, so I did."

I couldn't believe it. I was just as excited now to give her the gift as I was when I bought it. Only, I couldn't believe I was going to give it to her.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Mommy," I said handing her the box and leaning down to give her a kiss on the lips.

I surprised her with my forwardness. I don't think she expected me to kiss her on the lips, but I did. She didn't pull back or turn away. Only, with her eyes wide open, she had a shocked look on her face that I kissed her and she surprised me by kissing me back.

As if unwrapping a bomb, my Mom had a way of unwrapping a gift without tearing the paper. She had a bag full of wrapping paper that she reused for special occasions. Excitedly, I watched her slide her fingernails beneath the edges loosening the tape and removing the paper in one piece without so much as a tear. I watched her set the box on her lap and shake it open. Then, when she opened the tissue paper, she looked up at me with a surprised expression.

"Stephen," she said removing the nightgown from the box. "It's so beautiful." She held it up. "It's so short." She put her hand behind the material. "It's so sheer. It's so revealing," she said with a laugh. She turned and smiled at me. "It's so sexy. I love it. Thank you, sweetie. I've never had anything as luxurious and as sexy as this. This is the best Valentine's gift anyone has given me. Thank you, honey."

She leaned into me and kissed me on the lips. This time it was her idea and it was a longer kiss than when I had kissed her, but it was a kiss without tongues.

"Go try it on. I want to see it on you," I said taking the last sip of my champagne.

"No, I can't do that," she said looking at the nightgown and then looking at me before looking back at the nightgown. "You'll see everything I own," she said staring down at the nightgown, before looking up at me with a blush on her face.

"Mom, I've seen you in a nightgown before. What's the big deal? I'm your son and your my mother. It isn't like I'm a stranger. It isn't like I'm lusting over you," I said knowing that I was.

"Yeah, well, okay. It would be rude of me not to try it on and show you, I guess," she said with a blush that told me she felt she was embarrassed about being wicked.

I couldn't believe my Mom agreed to model the nightgown for me. I haven't been this excited since the first time I had sex with Amy. Had she not been a little tipsy, she never would have done that, but the alcohol removed some of her inhibitions, no doubt. Who knows, maybe she has needs, too? Maybe, she's just as horny as I am. Maybe she wants to show me her body as much as I want to see her body. We both have the same genetic makeup, after all.

Oh, my God. Be still my heart. I was so excited that I was about to see my Mom in that revealing nightgown. I couldn't believe it. Now, I was so glad I bought it.

She seemed to take a long time. What was only a few minutes felt like an hour. How long does it take to strip naked and put on a nightgown? I couldn't believe it when she appeared in the doorway. She had fixed her hair and makeup, too.

The soft light of the living room lit her up, as if she was a movie star. The light passed right through her. I saw more of my Mom in one second than I have in all the years I've been with her. I had to rub my eyes to realize that she wasn't naked. She may as well have been. Wow.

"Wow! Mom, you look fabulous. It's a perfect fit. It looks as if it was made for you. You look so beautiful, so sexy."

"Thank you, honey," she said twirling around.

When she twirled around like that, I got a glimpse of her ass cheeks. She wasn't wearing panties, which I knew already, as I could clearly see her pubic hair and when she turned around, I saw her ass crack. Then, she walked towards me, as if she was one of those Victoria's Secrets angels walking down the runway. All she needed were the wings.

I didn't dare tell her, but I wondered if she knew. Only, how could she not know? She must have known. Surely, she looked in her full length mirror before leaving her bedroom. I could see everything she owned, as if she was wearing tinted red cellophane.

Never have I seen so much of my mother's body. The nightgown left little to the imagination and whatever was left to imagine, I had already imagined it. A perfect match, it was then that I realized my Mom was as much of an exhibitionist as I was a voyeur.

"Come finish your champagne," I said.

She sat on the couch beside me and when she did, I got up to clear the coffee table of our dishes. I just wanted an excuse to walk back in the room from the kitchen. I just wanted to see her sitting there on the couch. I was hoping to see something of my Mom's that I've never seen before.

As soon as I walked in the room, I saw it. I saw my Mom's pussy. Even though she sat with her knees together, the open triangle above her slim and shapely thighs gave me a clear view of her pubic hair. Immediately, I had an erection.

"I'm cold," she said.

"Cold? I'm hot," I said removing my bathrobe and plopping myself beside her.

Was it not for my pajama bottoms, my penis would have been sticking straight up. I put my arm around her again, while rubbing her shoulder to warm her and she leaned into me and put her arm around my waist again. It felt so good holding my Mom in this way. Her skin was so soft, yet her body felt so firm. We've never held one another like this and had it not been for the champagne, I don't think we'd be this cozy now.

I don't know if she felt cold or if she felt naked, but she grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch and threw it over our laps. She had her hand resting on my thigh under the blanket. I was grateful for the blanket thrown across my lap because any second my cock was going to escape my pajama bottoms from my pee hole. Boy, that would have been really embarrassing. She would have thought I did that on purpose, no doubt. Then, I'd really feel like a pervert, exposing my cock to my Mom, yet again.

Then, my Mom started softly crying again.

"Mom, what's wrong?" I held her closer and kissed the top of her head.

"I'm just so happy," she said. "You're always so good to me."

When she looked up at me, I leaned down and kissed her again. It was a soft and loving kiss and not a sexual kiss. Only, this time, she kissed me back. When I pulled her close to kiss her, I felt her breast come in contact with my ribs and the side of her hand come in contact with my cock. My penis had freed itself of my pajamas and my Mom wasn't moving her hand away from my exposed prick. She left it there and every time my naked cock pulsated, it pulsated against my Mom's hand.

Knowing that my penis was rubbing against my Mom's hand made it pulsate even more. I couldn't believe it. I was so aroused. She didn't even have to touch me for me to want her. Just the rubbing sensation of my cock against the side of her hand was enough to drive me mad with desire for her.

Maybe it was because of the champagne, but I moved my hand from her back more to her side. Now, I could feel the side of my Mom's breast and it felt good. Then, I did it. I couldn't believe I did it, but I did. When I kissed her again, I slipped her my tongue.

Instead of pulling away, instead of slapping my face, she responded with her tongue. Once we were kissing, French kissing is when I felt my Mom's fingers touch my penis. It was surreal. My mom was ever so lightly touching my cock with her fingertips, more with her fingernails than with any other part of her hand.

"What do you think about when you masturbate?"

She floored me with her question.

"What?"

Suddenly, I felt like Brett in Pulp Fiction when Jules asks him a question and all he could say is, what? I was so nervous. I was so excited. My Mom was touching my penis while asking me what thoughts I have when I masturbate.

"Tell me. What do you think about when you masturbate?"

"Mom, I'm not going to tell you that. I can't tell you that. It's embarrassing."

"C'mon, tell me. I want to know." She looked up at me waiting for me to answer and when I didn't she asked me another even more revealing question. "Do you think about me when you're playing with yourself?"

Oh, my God, I wanted to say fuck yeah. I think about touching your body, while you fondle my cock. I think about you stroking my cock, while I finger your nipple and finger your pussy. I think about you sucking my cock before cumming in your mouth. I think about making love to you, fucking you and cumming inside of you. Only, I didn't say any of that. I couldn't. How could I? This was my mother.

"No," I said looking down at her. I could never lie to my Mom. She always knows when I'm lying. "Well, sometimes I have. Yes."

I couldn't help but feel like such a pervert. My Mom knows I masturbate over the thoughts of her.

"Were you thinking about me when I caught you masturbating?"

I could feel my face turning a bright red.

"Yes."

"Were you thinking about me wearing this nightgown?"

I've been thinking about you wearing this nightgown as soon as I saw it, which is why I bought it, I wanted to say, but didn't dare. I didn't have the courage. I was afraid to confess my feelings of lustful desire for my mother.

"Yes," I said instead.

"What were you thinking about? Tell me. I want to know."

"Mom, no, I'm embarrassed to tell you that. I feel like a pervert as it is."

I couldn't believe my Mom was asking me these questions while touching my cock. She was ever so lightly touching the side of my stiff cock with the tips of her fingers. It felt so good for her to touch me like that. It wasn't so much as a sexual touch as it was a sensual touch. I mean, while masturbating, I imagined my mom touching my cock and I imagined my Mom giving me a hand job, but I never imagined she really would and I never imagined it would feel this good just to have her touch me ever so lightly with her fingertips.

"You're not a pervert, Stephen. You're just a healthy young man. So, tell me. Were you thinking about me touching your penis?"

"Yes, Mom, I was."

"Were you thinking about me giving you a hand job?"

She looked up at me and when she did, I wanted to kiss her.

"Yes. I'm sorry, Mom, but I was thinking that."

"Don't be sorry."

Then, she took my cock in her hand. Her fingers surrounded the width of my cock. My mother was holding my cock. She was holding my cock, not stroking it, not fondling it, just holding it.

"Mom, what are you doing?"

She held it in place, as if it was a stick shift of a car. She was just holding onto my penis. That was when I moved my hand more to the front of her and cupped more of the side of her breast through her thin nightgown. It felt so good to feel my Mom's breast.

She looked at me in the way that Amy looked at me the first time she allowed me to feel her breast. It was as if she was giving me the green light.

"Go ahead, you can feel my breast," she said looking down at my hand that touched part of her breast. I moved my hand and cupped her entire breast. I was feeling my Mom's tit. "Is this what you were thinking about, me holding your penis, while you felt my breast?"

"Oh, God, yes, Mom."

"Do you like it when I hold your penis?"

"Like it? I love it, Mom."

"Do you like it when I stroke you like this," she said slowly stroking me.

"Yes, of course."

"Tell me."

"I love it when you stroke my cock, Mom. It feels incredible."

On thin ice, we were threading uncharted grounds. We were walking through a mine field. Any second something she or I did could blow-up in our faces. The more she touched me, is the more that I dared touch her. Any second either one of us could have second thoughts and stop, just stop, and then all of this would be over and I'd be so sexually frustrated.

Afraid to move my fingers, it felt so good to hold my Mom's breast in my hand. Immediately, her nipple became erect and hard and I could feel it pressing against my palm. Just as she didn't move her hand on my cock or from my cock before, I didn't move my hand on her tit or from her tit. I waited for her to give me a sign and then she did.

She started touching the head of my cock with her fingertips. It felt so good to have my Mom fondling my cock like that and in that way and in the same way that I wanted to fondle her nipples. When she did that, touched my penis, I leaned down and kissed her again. Only, this time, it wasn't the tender kiss that I had given her, it was more of a sexual kiss and she surprised me when she returned my kiss with even more passion.