Mom, Prom and Me

My senior year of high school was similar to most people's. In other words, it sucked. Classes were harder, my girlfriend broke up with me, and I stressed over what to do once I graduated. College didn't appeal to me, but neither did learning a trade. The thought of working at a fast food place demoralized me.

Rock bottom came with my senior prom. I went out a couple times with other girls since my breakup, but it seemed either I liked them but they didn't like me, or they liked me but I wasn't interested.

Out of desperation, I asked a couple girls to Prom who weren't really my type, but they already had dates. The only girls left, I didn't feel interested in. I didn't want to ask a girl who was likely to latch on and think we were going together, but I didn't want to go stag, either.

My mother understood and was a big help. "You don't have to go," she said. "If you're not going to have fun, Tommy, then why put yourself through it?" Mom hadn't gone out much since my father left and she came up with a better idea. "The two of us can go out to dinner that night," she said. "Somewhere nice. We'll have drinks at home, then go out. We'll make an event of it."

It was such a relief knowing I didn't have to worry about Prom or what anyone else thought. I gave my mom a big hug and thanked her.

Dating my mother seemed like a weird notion, but actually, she was a lot of fun to be around. She had a great sense of humor and I'd rather spend an evening with her than someone who bored me.

As the day got closer, I actually looked forward to spending the evening out with my mother. She looked young for forty and could easily pass for early thirties. Beyond that, I never thought much about her looks. After all, she was my mother. But now that she was my Prom date, I did start noticing. She had a nice figure with long slender legs and C cups, and her smile always lit up a room. What girl at school could top that?

A couple nights before our "date," Mom modeled a new outfit she got for the occasion. It was a red dress with a plunging neckline to show off her awesome cleavage. She wore red stockings and spun around to give me the full effect. I felt a slight tingling in my pants and for the first time, I saw her as a sexy, attractive woman rather than just my mother.

I gave her a big hug, then without thinking, I kissed her on the lips. She pressed her lips to mine and our tongues met before it sunk on what I was doing.

"Oh my god, I'm sorry," I said. I spun away and sat on the sofa. "I don't know where that came from." I felt a bulge in my pants and folded my hands in my lap in a vain attempt to cover it up.

Mom tried not to look at me, the same way I tried not to gawk at her cleavage. "Relax, Tommy," she said. "It's okay. It was a kiss, that's all. It's been a long time since either of us have had a good kiss. So it happened."

Once my hardon subsided, I leaned back on the sofa. I wondered if my mother would join me there and who knows, kiss some more? Or let me explore her tantalizing breasts?

But of course that was just my imagination running wild and taking over my thinking for a moment. Mom left to her bedroom and five minutes later she was back wearing sweats.

That night in bed, I jerked off thinking about my mother. It occurred to me that if she was a neighbor, or even a teacher, rather than my mom, I would have fantasized about her a long time ago.

I know she had been struggling after my father left us, feeling lonely and doubting herself, even though they had drifted apart for years before the divorce. There was always tension around the house when he was around. With him gone, things were so much better. The more distance Mom put from the divorce, the more relaxed and spontaneous she became.

One night the week before Prom, Mom slipped into my bed without a word and snuggled up behind me. There was nothing sexual. No kissing. No lewd touching, just a growing hardon in my shorts I couldn't control. I felt Mom breathing on my neck, with an arm draped over me.

It wasn't the first time she climbed into bed with me, but always with some distance. With Mom in bed with me, it was the most peaceful, serene moment we had in a long time. I took the arm she had draped over me and savored the moment. "I love you," I heard her whisper to me. I turned over and draped my arm around her. She took my arm like I had taken hers. "I love you too, Mom."

When I woke up that morning, I heard Mom in her shower. I was so tempted to join her, but I feared her pushing me away and I would lose the kissing and snuggling I enjoyed lately. And I thought about love -- not the emotions running rampant but seeing this from her side, the risk she faced if people found out she slept in her son's bed, that we went on dates together, that even though we kept our lust under control, at least for now, our desires were ever present.

"How did you sleep last night," Mom asked over breakfast?

"I enjoyed snuggling with you. I felt safe and relaxed."

I thought one day about the three types of kisses and how Mom and I seemed to be progressing through them. There was the mother kiss on the forehead, the sloppy lust kiss with lots of tongue, and the romantic, tender love kiss. I was enjoying them all because even a kiss on the forehead from Mom was a reminder of our love. As for the sloppy lust kisses, those were the best -- and the worst. When Mom came to bed with me and we kissed sloppy and deep, my cock would get rock hard. Mom would brush her hands around it while we kissed, and she would let me caress her breast without stopping me.

That was great. What sucked was that after a few minutes of deep kissing and minor groping, she would bolt from the room leaving me with a hard cock and my right hand. It felt tenuous, that Mom would come to her senses at any time and pull back. Maybe she'd meet someone her own age to go out with. But I could tell she thought the same way about me, wondering if I would start dating again with girls my age. I savored every touch, every kiss, every caress, and every "accidental" touch where her breasts would rub against my arm, or my cock got too hard to hide.

One Saturday morning, when I had no school and Mom had no work, I woke up with her still in my bed.

"Good morning," she said, rubbing my chest and smiling lustfully at me. I wanted to pull her on top of me and I suspected she wouldn't have put up a fight if I did. But then what? Was I really ready to make love with my mother? Was she ready to make love with her son? We were spending more time together, going out to dinner, taking day trips, or just staying in watching television and snuggling.

The night of Prom was fun, more fun than if I had taken a date from school. Mom was so sexy in her dress and stockings and she looked so much hotter than any school girl. We had a great dinner, and we went to a movie, holding hands like schoolkids.

That night we laid in bed and talked late into the morning. At one point, my head ended up between her breasts. I felt the fleshy softness and smelled a hint of the perfume she wore that night. I took my hand and pulled back her top and started sucking on her tits. It felt natural, and Mom allowed it to happen, rubbing her hand through my hair while I sucked on one tit, and I caressed the other. Hearing Mom moan softly made my cock rock hard. Mom groaned louder and spread her legs. I maneuvered between her and started dry humping her.

After a minute, she said "No," and put her hands on my shoulders, gently pushing me back. "I'm sorry, but we can't. I want you so badly, but we can't. I hope you understand."

I did understand that we couldn't go any further, but it was difficult watching her walk away. I woke up alone the next morning. Mom came back, showered and dressed.

"About what happened last night," she said. "I love you so much. Every day I'm realizing more and more what love is, how I never had that with your father, what I feel for you. You're only eighteen, but you're already more of a man than your father was. But you are also my son. There is such a beautiful connection between mother and child, yet there are certain lines that cannot be crossed."

Those few moments of bliss would stay with me, what her tits felt like, how she moaned. For the next several days, I jerked off remembering what my mother felt like, sounded like, tasted like.

I didn't have any desire to go to college, but since I had no better ideas, I decided to enroll at the state university and start in the fall. I would miss my mother terribly, but I would have to adjust.

"In the fall you will be off to college, and that physical distance will be easier to navigate," Mom said. "But first we need to get through the summer, living together, caring for each other, and feeling love for each other, without crossing boundaries."

But then it came to me.

"We know -- and respectable society knows -- that when a mother and father love each other, they have sex," I said. "So why would it be different for a mother and son? We love each other, I'll bet more than Dad loved you. So why would it be wrong for a mother and son who love each other to express our love?"

Mom leaned back and took a deep breath, like she actually considered it. But then she shook her head no. "It's still considered incest," she said.

"But that's just a label, probably put out there by someone who doesn't have love in their life," I said. It seems normal regardless of whatever label anyone puts on it. If it feels right for us to make love because we would truly be making love, then it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks."

I put my hand on her cheek and gently caressed her. I turned her toward me and gazed into my mother's eyes. Then I planted the longest, wettest kiss on her inviting lips. As we kissed, I lowered my hand to her breasts and caressed her. Then she lowered her hand and started caressing my cock through my shorts.

"I love you, Mom, with every part of me. I want to make love to you. Just you and me together, no clothes and no outsiders judging us. Just you and me expressing our love to each other in the most natural way there is."

"You're right," she said, caressing my cheeks now. "I feel your love, and I love you more than anyone on earth. It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks."

She stood and I stood and we kissed, our hands running over each other's body, then she took my hand and led me to her bedroom. She knelt in front of me, unbuckled my belt and unzipped my pants. My cock was rock solid now. Mom slid down my pants and underwear and took the tip of my cock in her mouth.

The way my mother looked up at me, my cock in her mouth, was amazing. She slowly licked the tip of my cock and gradually eased my cock into her mouth. We found a rhythm, me fucking my mother's mouth. The thought of this being so taboo, this incest, made me all the hotter and harder. "I've wanted this for so long, to taste my son's cock," she said.

Mom stood and undressed slowly, seductively in front of me, then laid back on the bed, her legs spread, touching herself. I knelt between her legs, kissed and licked her thighs, then ran my tongue up the slit of her pussy. I was tasting my mother, and it was amazing. I spread her pussy lips apart and slowly, gently licked her clit. After a few minutes of this, I felt her pushing on the back of my head into her cunt, wanting me to lick harder. I licked more and more all over her wet pussy, licking her juices and sliding a finger, and then two fingers deep inside her, licking her the whole time.

My cock was throbbing by then. I had to be inside her.

I bent down and gazed deep in her eyes, our noses touching and I maneuvered my hips to push my cock right up to her pussy lips. She reached down and rubbed the tip of my cock over her clit, then eased the tip of my cock inside her. I went in deeper and deeper until her juicy wet pussy was stuffed with my cock.

"Fuck me, Tommy. Fuck your mother."

"Oh, Mommy, I love you so much."

I slid my cock in and out faster and faster. "Pound my pussy, my son. Ram your cock inside me."

Her language was so raw and exciting that I lost all control and exploded inside of her, shooting my cum deep inside her pussy. "I'm sorry for cumming so fast," I said.

She put a finger to my lips and laid there gasping for breath. "You did wonderful. You made me feel loved. Just lay here a minute. Let me feel you inside me awhile longer."

I put my weight on my elbows to keep from smushing her, taking it all in, that I just fucked my mother.

After a minute, I rolled over, and Mom went down on me, licking me clean, my cum and her cum, and then she collapsed into my arms.

We laid there for a few minutes, exhausted and satisfied, yet still horny. Mom reached down and fondled my semi-hard cock. Soon I was ready for more, and Mom straddled me, guiding my cock back inside her pussy and riding me. I squeezed her perfect tits, then drew her mouth to mine. My tongue swirled around hers, and then she pulled back and lowered her mouth to my cock.

I want you to cum in my mouth," Mom said. "I want to taste my son's cum."

That was all the encouragement I needed and a minute later my cock was shooting cum down her throat.

"Good boy," she said. "I can't remember ever being this satisfied."

My mind was blown. I laid back on the bed and fell asleep. Some time around 2 a.m., I woke up. The room was dark but I felt my naked mother next to me. I kissed her neck and nibbled on her earlobe while rubbing her tits, then lowered my hand to her pussy. Mom woke up and smiled as I took a finger and rubbed her pussy lips. Within minutes her pussy was wet again, and I climbed on top of my mother and fucked her again. I was more in control this time and Mom and I were rocking in a slow, satisfying rhythm until we came together.

After that night, we spent more and more time together -- in bed and out of bed. We behaved like respectable mother and son when people were around, but when we were alone in the dark, in a movie theater balcony or in the car on a side street, Mom would blow me. Sometimes we would get in the back seat so I could lick her pussy, but usually we waiting until we got home and could spread out on the bed.

One day that summer, I had a surprise for Mom. "I went to the community college today and enrolled," I said. "I can't bear heading off to college. I'd miss you so much. This way, at least for two years, I wouldn't have to move out since I could commute to school."

"But you do need to move," Mom said. She smiled and winked. "Move your things into my bedroom. We can't get married officially, but we can profess our love to each other. And I would have your things around me.

I jumped up and grabbed some clothes from my closet and dresser, only to realize Mom had already cleared out room for me in her closet. The more clothes we moved that day, the fewer clothes we wore. Mom and I were both naked by the time I finished moving in with her. I laid her down, and made slow, passionate love to my mother, feeling like I was finally at home.