Matched with Mom? Ch. 01

"Hey bud, long time no see!" Dad greeted me, reaching out to give me an awkward fist bump.

"Sup, Dad," I said, bumping him back.

"You get bigger every time I see you, Zach," he grinned, shaking his head.

"Thanks," I smiled. "How's work?"

"Fine, fine," he waved dismissively, his pleasant expression fading. "Same old, same old." He'd been working in the pharmacy in Kroger for years after he got tired of the daily commute to Detroit Medical Center. Mom never minded it and still made the trip to Detroit almost every day to work at Children's.

Eyes wandering, I glanced over at the newest feature of the backyard, a bin a few yards away near the fence that was half-filled with rotting organic garbage and absolutely swarming with flies. The fuck was that? I gave my father a quizzical look with a curl of my lip.

"Dad, what's --"

"I'm a composter now!" Dad laughed boisterously, lifting the bill of his cap to wipe the sweat from his brow. "Trying to go greener."

"Isn't that kind of gross, though? I mean, should there be that many bugs?" I frowned.

Dad seemed slightly offended that I wasn't totally on board or praising him for being more of an environmentalist. "Well, someone has to break it down, right? Soon it'll be the best soil you've ever seen, better than in a store."

Yeah, for what, though? It seemed Dad hadn't thought this out very well, like a lot of things in his life. I shook my head and checked out the burgers on the grill, trying to distract myself from the disgusting compost with the appetizing scent of juicy, sizzling meat. Dad's signature all-American.

"These look pretty good," I commented, trying to keep things upbeat.

"They'll taste even better," Dad assured me. "I've improved on the Cohen family recipe. Sour cream along with the ol' chuck and sirloin. Saw it on YouTube."

"Huh. Uh...nice...Can't...wait." I grimaced internally.

"So, how's your mom doing?" Dad asked, a strange, distant expression crossing his face. Shouldn't he know?

"She seems, uh, good, happy," I said, glancing towards the kitchen window where I could see her working on her part of the meal. Awkward question.

"Good. That's good."

"What's wrong?" I asked with a frown, standing there with my arms crossed.

"Oh, you know," Dad gestured with his spatula. "She's lonely. She misses you and Chloe. It's hard having an empty nest."

"Yeah," I sighed.

"Well, you're back now," Dad said, putting an arm around my shoulders. "We'll have a great summer, the three of us. Just like old times."

"I'm looking forward to it," I nodded.

"Go check on your mom," Dad urged. "She's planning a real welcome home feast for you."

I went inside, lingering at the doorway to the kitchen to check my phone. My fingers flashed as I shot Siren a quick text.

[Aaron: Hey babe. Finally back home. missing u]

My mom was facing away from me, hard at work on multiple dishes. The smell was incredible. I could see the ingredients on the counter: a bowl of fresh tomatoes, a bunch of cilantro, a package of chicken breasts, a block of white cheese, a bag of rice, and a couple of onions. Mom's famous healthy chicken tacos. Oh, and apple pie. Along with Dad's burgers, they were really going all out for me.

I was about to ask Mom if she needed a hand when her phone buzzed on the island. Mom turned and quickly picked it up, looking frazzled. A little crease appeared between her brows as she glanced at the screen and typed something before putting it down. My phone vibrated.

[SensualSiren: Can't talk now, sweetie. Busy.]

[Aaron: OK. Miss you, beautiful]

My mom's phone immediately buzzed again.

Huh. Weird...

"Hey, Mom," I said, stepping further into the kitchen. "Do you need any help?"

"Yes, please, sweetheart," Mom said, putting her phone in her pocket with a flustered expression. "Wash your hands and then could you start dicing the onions and tomatoes for the salsa?"

"Sure," I smiled, walking over to the sink and washing up. As we worked side-by-side, I couldn't help but feel a strange, creeping sensation about what'd just happened with our phones.

Mom was humming happily as she sliced the onions, her face serene and calm. I watched her out of the corner of my eye, wondering.

It had to be a coincidence...right?

My mind started going to strange, dark places. I glanced at Mom's body, at her neck and face much more carefully, looking for signs of Siren. There were a lot of similarities.

Their builds were similar, their skin the same shade, their hair comparable in color and style. Maybe I was imagining it, but from what I'd seen, their faces were close too -- their eyes, the shape of their noses and their mouths. But, it wasn't conclusive proof. I couldn't make a direct comparison with her clothes on, but the way Mom filled out her jeans and top made me wonder.

Siren's location was Ann Arbor too, like 3 miles from UMich. I tried to check out Mom without directly looking at her face, like how I'd always seen Siren. Her fingers, her lips, her throat, the curve of her breasts, the shape of her ass. The way she moved. I had this growing feeling of eeriness the more I watched my mom.

"Zach, you're staring at me," Mom said, turning to me with an amused, quizzical smile.

"Sorry, Mom," I shook my head, laughing nervously, caught. "Was just zoning out, I guess."

"Honey, the tomatoes?"

"Sorry, Mom," I apologized again, trying to shake the suspicions from my mind.

The rest of the evening passed uneventfully. The food was delicious and the three of us sat on the deck, talking and laughing. Afterward, I played with Chance and helped dad with the Camero's replacement carburetor before going upstairs to my room to unpack. It was almost like the last few months hadn't happened, but I could tell some things had changed. Most of all was how my parents were acting towards each other. I could tell they were trying to make everything perfect for me, but the tension was there, just below the surface. Mom and Dad seemed so distant from each other, totally focused on me.

Now that I was alone, I couldn't stop thinking about the text thing in the kitchen. Was I so fucked in the head, so perverted and low and desperate that I was imagining that my own mother was my online lover?

I wanted to dismiss it, but I couldn't let it go.

I lay back on my bed, staring up at the ceiling, my mind churning, before I got out my phone again.

[Aaron: I need you]

Siren was probably busy, or she'd put her phone on silent, but, after a moment, I saw the dots that told me she was responding.

[SensualSiren: Tonight, okay honey? I'm busy with family stuff right now.]

[Aaron: When? I really miss you.. and my dick needs your attention]

[SensualSiren: We can play more tonight. I can't wait to see you. Be a good boy for me. I'll make it worth your while.]

I thought for a moment, swallowing, as I decided to try to confirm my suspicions. I felt sick down to my guts but I had to know.

[Aaron: Can you send me a pic of you real quick so I have something to think about? miss you so bad.]

The reply came a few minutes later, and I opened the image, staring. It was a selfie picture of her sitting on the toilet, her mom jeans and panties around her ankles, thighs spread wide with the soft, pale, inner flesh on display, revealing her hairy wet cunt.

White t-shirt. Mom's clothes. That same wedding band. I could even recognize the half bath in our basement now that I was looking for it. How had I not seen any of it before? How could I?

My head began to spin as the cold shock of confirmation gripped me.

"Oh fuck...oh fuck..." I whispered as I stared at the photo, eyes widening. Siren was Mom. Siren was my own mother.

I felt a rush of conflicting emotions. Shock, surprise, embarrassment, and horror. But there was also excitement, helpless arousal. My cock was hardening.

Oh god.

It was so wrong. So, so wrong. E102 came whispering back into my head, an insistent, accusatory recitation.

'Dark, horror of darkness, -my- darkness, drowning, swirling around me crashing wave on wave -- unspeakable, irresistible headwind, fatal harbor!'

"I can't believe this...I can't fucking believe this," I breathed, my head spinning, the sane, grounded world I thought I knew quickly slipping away from me.

It was so fucked up, so gross and strange and terrible, but as my mind reeled my body was responding differently. For weeks and weeks, I had known this woman and her body as my lover. Now that I was seeing her for who and what she really was, it was like my brain was playing catch-up with my dick.

I kept staring at the photo, the evidence, and my cock kept getting harder and harder. I couldn't stop thinking about Siren and all the things we had done together. What she had said. What we wanted to do once we finally met. I had told her so many of my darkest, deepest secrets. My innermost fantasies. I felt so sick inside.

I should have just deleted Tinder at that point. Forgave myself as a horny, lost little fuckhead who didn't know any better and got caught up in my mother's twisted, tangled web of a sexual midlife crisis. Gone on with my life.

But I couldn't. Mom was Siren. Siren was everything I'd ever wanted in a woman. I was obsessed with her and her body. I felt deep, wrenching nausea, but at the same time, such a dark, perverse thrill.

At that moment, I made the terrible choice not to give up on our adulterous tryst -- now an incestuous one too. So I fell back into the inexorable, familiar pattern of our sexual dance and allowed my overwhelming lusts to start rewiring my rational brain. I sent a picture of the outline of my covered dick, rock-hard and straining against my plaid boxers, a damp spot of precum already forming.

[SensualSiren: Good boy. Don't touch yourself until tonight, okay? I want to be the one who makes you cum.]

[Aaron: OK see you tonight]

[SensualSiren: Bye honey.]

While Dad headed out to go bowl and hang with his drinking buddies, Mom and I binge-watched episodes of her favorite trash TLC reality show, 90 Day Fiancé. She wasn't happy about Dad ditching us my first day back, complaining that his nights out had become more and more frequent, and he kept coming back later and later. I didn't know what to say -- my mind was somewhere else entirely. We sat on the couch together and she put my feet into her lap to give them a rub. It was a long-standing ritual of ours that was easy to fall back into, as much as I wanted to try to avoid her and sort my insane shit out.

I was in a daze and had to consciously separate her and Siren to function. It was so, so hard as I looked at her body sitting there, knowing the delicious mature flesh beneath her clothes; the large, ripe pair of breasts and hairy pussy waiting for me. I buried myself in my phone to try and disconnect, to let the chaste, somatic memory of her massage keep my mind from wandering, even as I desperately wanted those same fingers around my stirring cock.

"So, honey, tell me all about college," Mom prodded, completely oblivious as she kneaded the arch of my foot. "How are your classes, your friends, and everything? I feel like we don't talk like we used to, you know?"

"Fine, Mom," I shrugged, distracted and still shaken as I scrolled through my social media feeds on my phone while the lame, manufactured drama blared on TV. I knew it came off as distant, but in that moment, the status quo was the only thing I could hold onto.

"I was worried, you know," she kept trying. "Your first year away. It's a big step after what you've been through," Mom said sympathetically.

"It was tough," I admitted, still unable to look at her. "Lots of work. But I got a 3.7 this year, so it's all good."

"You're a smart boy, Zach," Mom said, smiling, her voice warm with approval. "You've always been a smart boy. What about your girlfriend? Are you two still going out?"

God, she sounded so much like Siren, fuck.

I couldn't wait anymore. I went back into Tinder, flicking on silent mode to kill the vibration and notification sound. I mumbled something about us breaking up, and Mom tried to hide her delight.

"...Aww, honey...well, I think it's a good thing though..."

[Aaron: Now? My big teen dick's waiting for you]

Mom's phone immediately buzzed on her arm of the sofa.

"Oh, excuse me, sweetheart," Mom said, grabbing her phone and checking the message. She read it and smiled, her cheeks flushing a slight pink.

I stared, feeling the heat rush to my face, my heart racing.

"Who's that, Mom?" I asked, trying to keep my tone casual.

"Just...a friend," Mom said, looking away, a small, private smile on her face.

"Alright," I said, returning my attention to the TV and my phone. I marveled at how easily she could lie about this, how brazenly she could cheat on Dad. I wasn't much better, knowing what I knew, yet keeping it alive.

Mom was on her phone, tapping away.

[SensualSiren: Hey stud. Are you ready to be my dirty boy?]

[Aaron: Yes. Ready to fuck you. So hard. Missed you so much] I wrote back, glancing furtively over at her. I saw the hungry delight glint in her eyes as she read my message. I shifted some uncomfortably as I felt hot blood fully rushing into my cock.

"Okay, I'm off to bed," Mom announced, sliding my feet off her lap and standing up.

"Alright, Mom," I nodded, giving her a cursory smile but not looking up, moving to rest on my side so I could hide my growing hardon.

"Goodnight, honey."

"Night."

She disappeared up the stairs. After a few minutes, I followed. I stopped in my room, peeling off my button-up shirt so I was just in my shorts. I paced, stalking like a caged animal, pent-up sexual frustration driving me mad. I should have just tried to sleep, but I didn't. Couldn't. Instead, I went out again and stopped outside my parents' bedroom door.

I didn't know what the fuck I was doing, just following my depraved sexual instinct, my dick leading me on. I could still back out of this. There was still time. But I lingered there anyway.

[Aaron: You naked?] I texted, leaning with my back against the wall next to the door.

[SensualSiren: Yes. Wish you were here. I'm touching myself]

I bit my bottom lip, feeling a pang of surging arousal.

[Aaron: On your bed?]

[SensualSiren: Yes, thinking about you. Wishing you were fucking me.]

I was completely hard again, and not just for the distant attention of an online woman. I knew my mother was in there, fucking herself while thinking about me, not knowing I was her own son. I was getting tired of the conflicting feelings. I reacted to her messages with lust, and just buried the dread and guilt deeper down.

I quietly moved closer and put my ear up to the door. Nothing at first, but then, a faint, muffled feminine moan. I swallowed, hard, and reached for the doorknob. It was unlocked. I turned it silently and slowly, carefully pushed the door ajar to peer inside.

Mom was lying back on the bed naked, her legs spread, her eyes closed. She had this cheap little tripod thing that held her phone on the nightstand, pointed at her.

"Yes, Aaron, fuck, yes," Mom whimpered quietly, her hand moving between her legs, her furry, mature pussy glistening, fingers slipping inside. Her sexy, tight body was Siren's, only now the face was clear at last. Call it genetic sexual attraction or whatever -- something finally just clicked inside me and I started seeing my mother as the object of all my desires and sexual fantasies. I stood in the crack of the door watching her pleasure herself in silence, the sight sending a sickening, wicked delight through me.

"Mmmm," Mom moaned softly, her free hand squeezing her large breast, thumb and forefinger pinching her hardened nipple, tugging it. "Yes, oh, yes, Aaron, fuck, baby, yes, fuck me..."

I was so unbelievably hard, dying for relief. I couldn't resist anymore. I slid a hand down, cupping the bulge in my sweatpants, squeezing myself.

Mom's eyes were closed, her lips parted, her hips squirming as she fucked herself with her fingers, her other hand squeezing her breast and tugging her nipple, her dark pussy hair messy and wild. As the voyeur, my mind was in the strangest, most erotic place as I watched. She was at peak fertility, so desperate for a mate. It was like she was in estrus or something, her entire body crying out to be fucked and bred. To fulfill her role as a mother many times over, before it was too late and her ripe, fully blossomed flower began to fade.

Mom's body writhed as she came, her pussy gushing and squirting, fingers buried deep. She gasped, her eyes closed, voice hoarse as she took in ragged breaths, gently shuddering on the bed as her climax subsided.

I quietly closed the door and retreated back to my room.

I'd been so close, so close to the forbidden fruit. Now was the time. I knew it, and my heart began to pound even harder than it had watching my mom fuck herself. My world was completely untethered, spinning, an unreal, terrifying place. The sight of her body, so achingly, tantalizingly close, her wantonness...I wanted mother all the more.

I sat down on my bed with my phone, ready to end our old dance and begin a new one.

[Aaron: I need to show you something.]

[SensualSiren: Can't wait.]

Maybe I was fucking insane, but watching Mom in the flesh had blanked out every rational neuron in my brain. All I could think was getting into her pussy. I got on my bed and pulled down my shorts to grip my big, straining cock in my fist. I angled the camera so that Mom could finally see my face. I stared, eyes lidded into the pinhole as I slowly pumped my cock for her, lost in my lust for her.

[Aaron: Here I am, baby. This is me.]

After I sent it, there was only silence. I felt my entire being falling through space, lost. I might have just destroyed my life, but I couldn't live like this anymore. My depraved desires blunted the despair, the awful reality of the many possible consequences of what I'd just done, all in the hope that might be able to fuck my own mother.

'Oh again, the misery, all at once, over and over the stabbing dagger, stab of memory raking me insane.'

A few minutes later, there was a soft knock on my door. I could hear my mom outside, breath racing out in quiet, wracking sobs. The sound made me sick to my stomach.

"Zach..." Mom managed as she tried to compose herself, her voice quiet, shaky, muffled through the wood. "Please let me in. W-we need to talk."

I opened the door wordlessly, avoiding her gaze.

"It's...it's you??" Mom whispered, her voice barely a breath. She stared at me, so conflicted, so torn, lingering at the threshold. My mother had thrown back on her clothes, but she still looked like a mess, avoidant gaze teary and bloodshot, face flushed from the awful realization, embarrassment, and sexual completion. Her tortured expression was caught between shock, disbelief, and something else -- something in her eyes that simmered dark and lustful and quickly hidden when she looked at my half-naked body, my semi-hard bulge. Something I hadn't seen before.

Finally, Mom slowly entered the room and closed the door behind her.

I sat down on the bed, my hands vaguely shaking, overcome by surreal lust and a strange, out-of-body shame. I wet my lips and swallowed, my mind numb.

"Jesus, at least say something, Zach!" Mom choked out between her teeth.

I just handed her my phone with the Tinder app open on our message screen.

As Mom looked through our exchanges, horrifying confirmation constricted her pupils and twisted up her face. "Oh god, no, no, no, no, no..." she whispered, putting her hand over her mouth, a fresh round of tears beginning to stream. My mother let out this long, moaning sound that shook me real bad. "Noooo...oooooooooooooooo...!"