Mom at the Roxy

My shirt? What the hell was she thinking? I hesitated.

"NOW!"

I obediently unbuttoned the shirt, and removed it slowly.

For some reason, she stared for a moment at my upper arm. I glanced down, and saw there, emblazoned on my upper arm, my butterfly tattoo. My heart sank, and I lifted my eyes toward hers. They had widened with shock and recognition, and she took two quick, if unsteady, steps toward me. "You bastard!" she screamed in my face. Her lip quivered, and then she broke into tears, holding her hands to her face.

I was stunned by her anger, and I could feel my face flush with sadness and shame. Yes, she knew. The tattoo had given me away. She knew that I was the stranger at the Roxy that night.

I didn't know what to do. I tried to reach out to her, but she pulled away angrily. Tears welled in my eyes as I watched her. I just stood there, helpless, cursing myself for my lunacy. What had I done? I've ruined my relationship with my Mother, the Mother that I loved, probably irreparably.

Her sobs were slowly subsiding. "Why, Troy? Why did you do it?" she asked with a trembling voice.

"I'm so sorry Mom."

I wanted to explain, but I didn't know what more to say.

Once again, I reached for her. I wanted to hug her to help her understand how sorry I was. But once again, she pulled away. "No Troy. Don't touch me!" she exclaimed. "I'm leaving now."

She walked unsteadily toward the front door. I ran to stop her.

"Mom, please!" I pleaded. "I can't let you drive like this. You've been drinking."

She paused and exhaled deeply. "Troy, I'm exhausted, and I need to go home," she said wearily.

"Then you can sleep on the couch. Please." I looked into her eyes imploringly, and she nodded. I grabbed her lightly by the shoulders. This time she didn't turn me away. Encouraged, I led her to the couch. She lay down and closed her eyes while I removed her shoes. In her drunken immodesty, her legs were splayed open slightly, and despite myself I found myself looking up her skirt. I could see sheer light blue cotton panties tightly covering her private area. With an angry shake of my head, I turned away. Don't ever do that again, I chided myself. You mustn't! This is your Mother!

I sat next to her for a moment, and wiped the tearstains from her cheeks. I bent down to kiss her forehead, but she wouldn't acknowledge me. She turned her head away, her eyes tightly shut.

I needed to leave her alone. That was obvious. I tiptoed to my bedroom, stripped to my underwear and threw myself onto the uncomfortably warm sheets. I lay in bed for a long time, immobile, my head spinning as I tried to sort things out. With my dark thoughts and the uncomfortable heat, I thought sleep would never come. But finally, I drifted off into a restless sleep of evil dreams.

I came awake a short time later at the sensation of the mattress sinking next to me. With a start, I opened my sleepy eyes, and saw the shadow of my Mother sitting next to me in the moonlit semi-darkness.

She tentatively reached out and placed her hand on mine. "Troy, please hold me. I need someone to love me. Hank has left me, and I don't know what to do." She shuddered, and began to cry softly.

I reached my arms out to her, and she lay down on her side next to me, her head resting on my shoulder.

We lay there for a long time, she on her side next to me, my arm encircling her protectively. Her quiet sobs slowly subsided. The body warmth emanating through her skirt and blouse would normally have been uncomfortable given the oppressive heat, but I didn't care. I was overjoyed that she had come to me. Now we could begin the slow process of healing and forgiveness for what I had done.

Finally, I spoke. "Mom, I just want to - I want to apologize. I'm so sorry it happened."

She didn't respond. She nestled her face into my chest, her hair brushing my cheek and chin. Her soft hand was resting on my shoulder.

"Do you forgive me?"

"Hush," she whispered.

We continued to lie comfortably in each other's arms, and I closed my eyes and exhaled a satisfied sigh. I felt I could stay here like this forever, arm in arm with my Mother.

Her hand moved from my shoulder to my flat stomach, and she nestled her head ever more deeply into my chest.

But her soft hand did not rest idly on my stomach - it began caressing me in slow, circular motions. I became conscious of my near nudity.

"Uh, Mom?" I asked uncertainly.

But she shushed me, and continued the gentle stroking. The sensation was part ticklish, part erotic. Despite myself, I felt my prick stirring in my underwear. Did she realize what she was doing?

Any doubt I had left my mind when I felt her begin to softly kiss my chest, next to my right nipple. I felt my cock stirring. NO! This couldn't happen!

"Mom we shouldn't do this..." I protested weakly.

But she just shook her head and continued to kiss my chest. Her lips danced across to my nipple. She kissed me lightly there, as her hand caressed my stomach, and I shuddered in response. She slid from my navel area, lower, then lower still. Her fingertips brushed against the waistband of my underwear.

Her tongue circled around my nipple until it was wet with her saliva. Her fingers dipped beneath the waistband, and brushed against my wiry pubic hair. My cock grew rapidly, tenting my underwear. This left a gap between the waistband and my bare skin, through which her fingers could now gain clear access to my private parts. She brushed through the hair at the base of my cock, then dipped lower, lightly stroking my balls. They contracted in response, pulling tightly against my sweaty groin.

She lifted her head from my chest and looked deeply into my eyes. I could discern her bright eyes shining in the moonlight.

"I need you Troy - we need each other. I don't care what happened the other night. Maybe it was meant to be."

And she kissed me on the lips, softly at first, but then she pressed her mouth against mine with urgency. I felt her wet tongue pressing against my dry lips, trying to force it's way into my mouth.

I opened my mouth to her insistent tongue. Immediately, it darted into my willing mouth. Simultaneously, her hand grasped my now throbbing cock and squeezed it gently. I gasped, and pulled her head to mine. We kissed with passion, our tongues intertwining. I could fight my feelings no longer.

She climbed on top of me and we stretched our bodies together, urgently grinding against each other in our passion, as we sucked each other tongues. I was keenly aware of the feel of my Mother against every part of my body, her warm moist breath as she panted into my mouth, her soft breasts mashed against my chest. I felt her warm crotch through her panties as she rubbed against my pelvis. I slipped my hands up under her blouse and stroked her warm back as she ground against me. Then I worked my hands down over her ass, and pulled her skirt up. I tugged at her panties and pulled them into the crack of her ass, thong-style, then began to greedily grope her bare ass cheeks.

I pulled her into my crotch as she bucked against me. I dipped the tip of my finger inside her panties, and tentatively probed against her puckered asshole, just at the limit of my reach. I applied a bit of pressure and waited for a sign from her to continue my probing.

"Mmm hmm," she purred into my ear. I slipped the finger into her sweaty asshole up to the first knuckle, then began to slide it slowly in and out as she writhed against me.

Mom groaned into my mouth at the sensation. I began to thrust my cock, still tented in my underwear, against her wet panties. She returned my eager thrusts, and her breathing quickened with desire.

Suddenly, she pulled away and got off of the bed. I whimpered slightly with frustration, but I had nothing to fear. She quickly stripped off her clothes. I watched as she then reached down to peel off my underwear, sliding them down my legs and over my feet. Her body glowed in the darkness like an erotic goddess.

I expected her to lie back down on top of me - in fact, I lusted for the feel of her bare skin against mine. But she had other ideas. She carefully placed her knees on either side of my head, and knelt there for a moment, looking down at me. Her pussy was suspended about a foot above my face, and the scent of her womanhood was strong in my nostrils.

I couldn't stand it. "Let me lick you Mom." I implored.

She smiled down at me - I could see the flash of white teeth in the semi-darkness, and she slowly, enticingly, began to lower her hairy pussy toward my eager, waiting mouth.

My tongue lapped at her swollen, juicy cunt. "Oh God!" She gasped with the sensation and I felt a tremor run through her body. She ground her pussy hard against my mouth. Her sweaty thighs squeezed against the side of my face in a vice-like grip.

Her smell was indescribable, a mixture of musky sweat and her aromatic cunt juices. I licked from her puckered asshole, up her swollen pussy lips, and finally circled around her erect clit, then worked my way back down again.

I looked up, past her stomach and watched as her tits swayed seductively above me. She was plucking at the erect nipples with her fingertips, further adding to her stimulation.

My Mother cried out with passion. "Oh, God Troy. You suck me so good! You're gonna make me come!" She clutched at my hair, pulling my mouth up into her cunt, while at the same time applying her full weight to my face. I was nearly suffocating in the erotic grip.

Her sensuous grinding increased in tempo. "Suck my clit!" she commanded.

I happily obliged. I pulled at her erect clitoris with my lips, and applied a gentle suction. "Ahhh, fuck!" she screamed in pleasure. Instantly, I felt her legs clench tightly against my sweaty face as her body began spasming with her orgasm.

She furiously bucked against my face as she screamed in her passion. She began to cry from the depth of her physical and emotional release.

Gradually, her breathing decreased in tempo, as I softly licked the remnants of her juices from her pussy lips.

She collapsed in a sweaty heap on to the sheets next to me, lying on her stomach. I held her in my loving arms as she cried into the pillow. The intensity of her climax had seized her female emotions. Gradually though, her tears subsided, and she sighed contently. "My god, that was fantastic," she purred into the sheet. I caressed her sweaty ass cheeks as she relaxed in the warm afterglow of her orgasm.

But my own desires were building. My cock was engorged with passion, and I needed my own release. I humped against her thigh.

"I can think of a better place for that," she murmured.

I got on top of her, doggy style, and guided my prick toward her swollen pussy. I began to press my velvety cockhead into her warm, sloppy cunt.

"I can think of an even better place," she whispered back to me.

I paused. I didn't understand what she meant. "Mom, I have to make love to you. I can't stand it anymore."

She giggled like a schoolgirl. "I know silly. I mean a better place to fuck me. Up my ass."

"Ah, I get it. But, um, I don't have any lubrication."

"My pussy has all the lubrication you need. Just stick your dick in there for a sec, and it'll be fine."

And so I did. I entered her inviting pussy, and felt her hot juices coat my throbbing prick. I pulled back out, and, holding it in my hand, guided the greasy cockhead between her slippery butt cheeks. I probed in the darkness for a few seconds, searching for the tightness of her puckered asshole. At last, I found my goal, and I wedged the tip against her anal opening. I gently pushed, feeling the slightest resistance as I slid my throbbing hardon past her spincter, then into her warm, inviting ass.

The first two or three inches of my prick were embedded in her warm rectum. It felt much looser than Angie's. I understood why Hank had been able to fuck her ass so easily, despite the impressive girth of his prick.

I paused and focused on the wonderful sensation for a moment. "Am I hurting you at all?" I whispered in her ear.

"No, it feels good..." she cooed. "Push it in." She wriggled her ass enticingly against me, almost sucking me in with no effort from me. At last, all 7 inches of my prick were lodged in her bumhole.

"I want to make you feel good Mom." I whispered. "Tell me what you want me to do."

She whimpered. "Just fuck me hard," she sighed. "I love it!"

What my Mom lacked in tightness, she more than made up for in experience. I marveled at the sensation of her spincter alternately tightening and loosening against my prick as I began thrusting my prick in and out of her ass. I knew that I wouldn't be able to hold out for very long. I was past caring, and I picked up the pace.

"Yeah, that's it! Fuck it, fuck it fuck it!" implored my Mother.

My thrusts became more furious, as I savagely fucked her asshole. She groaned with pleasure into the mattress, and tightly gripped the sheet with clenched hands. Her ass was like a vice around my prick, and with one last furious thrust and a sharp gasp, I plunged my cock as far as I could up her rectum, and began coming in massive spasms.

"I love you Mom!" I cried in my passion and ecstasy, as my cum spurted deep inside her ass, coating her clenching anal walls. All of my muscles strained against her as the orgasm wracked my body. The orgasm seemed endless, as spurt after spurt left my throbbing prick.

Panting and heaving, we rolled together onto our sides, my cock still buried up her rectum. We lay pressed together on the sweat-soaked sheets of the bed, nestled like spoons. My hand softly stroked her shapely hip. I noticed with surprise that the soft light of dawn was beginning to fill the room.

She was crying softly again in the passion of the moment. "I love you too Troy," she said. I nuzzled her ear lobe with happiness.

We said nothing more. I didn't know what to say. My emotions, and hers too I imagine, were churning. I tried to sort out what had happened over the last week. I had now had sex, not once but twice, with my Mother, the same Mother that I was learning how to love all over again.

We whispered our love for each other once again, and fell asleep in exhaustion, my shriveled prick still nestled in her warm, loving ass.

_______

The next several weeks of that summer were the most thrilling of my life. My Mom and I came to the realization that we could continue our mother/son relationship, while at the same time bring each to new heights of passion. We had sex with many more times.

But best of all, we talked. We talked about the past, we talked about the future, but mostly we lived in the moment, not caring about anything else.

I continued my long-distance relationship with Angie, surreptitiously at first. I thought my Mother would be disapproving, or jealous at the very least. But that wasn't the case at all. In fact, she encouraged me to continue to do so. We both felt that our special relationship might not be sustainable - eventually we would both need to return to a normal life, and possibly break our physical bond.

I spoke to Angie every few days. Sometimes, we talked about our relationship. Mostly, though, we talked and fantasized about the hot sex we would have upon her return. Basically, it was nothing more than phone sex. She would describe her fantasies to me, and I would describe mine to her, and we would masturbate together over the phone.

No fantasy was left uncovered. Mostly though, I steered her back toward her admission of a lesbian relationship. She knew that made me hotter than anything, and she certainly did nothing to discourage me.

Of course, Angie had no idea about the heights that my sexual adventures had taken me during the summer. Surprisingly, my frequent sex with my Mother did nothing to dampen my sexual feelings toward Angie. The relationship with my Mother was different, somehow, and I still greatly desired my girlfriend.

My Mom prodded and cajoled me into talking about my sex life with Angie. I even admitted to the long distance mutual masturbation sessions. This was embarrassing at first, until I figured out that listening to my stories made her incredibly hot and horny. In fact, my tales frequently served as foreplay for torrid sex with my Mother.

And so it went that summer. Hot sex with my Mother, phone sex with my girlfriend.

My relationship between my Mother and I grew increasingly intimate. One Sunday morning, she and I lounged in bed after some wanton, sweaty wakeup sex. The sunlight streaming through the bedroom window bathed our body in glowing warmth. Our discussion turned to the past and her relationship with my father, which was a subject we had always carefully avoided.

"He was a good man, and I loved him," she was saying. Her eyes were distant as she transported herself back to those years. "It's just that our interests diverged."

"Why? What do you mean?"

She looked at me pointedly. "He told you that I had several affairs outside the relationship, didn't he?"

"Yes. He said that's why you divorced."

"Well that's true, at least partly." She rolled over onto her stomach and cupped her chin in her hands. She looked at me with sad eyes.

"Troy," she said slowly, "Your father and I were swingers early in our marriage, for the first few years after you were born. We had sex with other couples."

She paused, and I nodded for her to go on.

She swallowed. "But before long, that changed. I wanted to keep swinging, but your father was no longer interested. He just...he just seemed to think that fatherhood meant that he had to change our lifestyle. I guess I disagreed. I knew, I still know, that that didn't have to be the case."

I digested this information for a while, staring absently at the ceiling, basking in the morning sunlight. My curiosity was aroused.

I cleared my throat. "What's it like?"

"What's what like?"

"Swinging."

Mom bit her lower lip. "Well..." she paused, and I rolled on my side to look at her. "Well, that's a hard question to answer. Physically, it's incredible. Emotionally, it carries some baggage for some people. Not for me, but like I said, it became a problem with your father. It kind of depends on what kind of relationship you have with your partner. Myself, I loved it. Still do."

My eyebrows arched with surprise. "Still?"

"Sure. Still. How do you think I met Hank?"

I nodded. Sore subject, that one. Hank was there when Mom discovered my wallet. He knew all about what I had done.

She changed the direction of the conversation. She didn't want to talk about Hank any more than I did. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh, I don't know. I guess it's something I fantasize about with Angie."

"Does she know about it?"

"Sort of. I mean, I have this thing about being with Angie and another woman. We talk about it on the phone. And she's willing. To fantasize about it I mean. We do this thing where she pretends she's with a girl, having sex, and she describes it to me on the phone, while I jack off."

"Hmm. Do you think she'd ever want to do it for real?"

"I dunno. Maybe. She told me once she had sex with another girl a couple of years ago. And I've mentioned it once or twice. About actually doing it, I mean. Not just me fantasizing about it."

"And how does she respond?"

"She gets kind of coy. I mean, she'll say something like 'well, maybe someday.' But that's about it."

She sat up at the foot of the bed, arms around her knees. "Maybe you should try being more direct. Just come out and ask if her she would do it for real."

I shook my head. "I'm not sure if I can do that. Not yet anyway. Besides, I have no idea how to go about making it happen, even if Angie agreed to it."

"That's easy. Just run an ad."

I chuckled. "Like in the Observer?" I was referring to the local alternative weekly newspaper. It contained a section of personal advertisements in the back. "I can't see Angie going for that."