Mom's Too Damned Smart

"I'm not that good," I assured him with a chuckle. "The table just set up really well for stripes after that break. But..." I shook my head and frowned slightly, "I'm actually not in the mood to play any more right now. Would you guys mind playing without me? There's something I really need to talk about with my mom."

I was so intensely focused on minute details at that moment--after inspecting myself in the mirror, and because I was worried about giving something away myself--that I finally caught the subtle way those guys flushed when I mentioned my mother, the way their eyes widened a fraction of an inch, and the way Toby carefully studied the balls on the table so he could avoid meeting my gaze. They were turned on at the mere mention of her!

That shocked me.

They both nodded, and I made my way out of the den to look for my mother. As I made my way down the hallway to the living room, another thought made me stop short.

Were those guys having sex with her? I stood in the living room and blinked as I thought it over carefully. It wasn't as if I had any evidence that anything was going on, but those guys had no idea that I had been seeing Lorna, either. I wracked my brain for over a minute, carefully reviewing those times when I had been away from home and they would have had the opportunity.

Eventually I shook my head slowly. As far as I could recall, there had never been any time when one of them could have been alone with her. At least, not long enough for them to have sex. I blew out a breath, only then realizing that I was relieved.

"Mom?" I called out.

"Yes?" she replied.

I followed her voice to her bedroom. She was just standing up when I got to her doorway. Evidently she had been lying down watching television. I glanced over at the screen briefly before looking at her face.

"May I talk with you?" I asked softly.

She nodded, so I stepped into the room, turned and carefully closed the bedroom door. When I turned around, she saw the look on my face and shook her head.

"This can wait until your friends leave," she said.

My eyes widened when I looked at her. I had been carefully looking for some clue, but the clues she was giving off weren't what I expected. Her nipples were hard, standing out proudly atop her large breasts. The blouse she wore was white and she wasn't wearing a bra, so I could make out her nipples and the slightly darker circles around them. She licked her lips nervously, but her eyes were slightly wider than they should be and flicked down to my crotch for the briefest of instants.

She was turned on!

My stomach lurched and I swallowed heavily. Then I shuddered as I pictured her lying back in her bed and welcoming one of my friends between her legs.

"Have you been having sex with my friends?" I blurted.

"What?" she gasped. "No! Of course not. Those boys aren't even eighteen." Her eyes narrowed then and she asked, "Why? Did they suggest--?"

"No, no," I assured her, shaking my head and holding my hands out in front of me. I blew out a relieved breath and chuckled. "It's just that they were clearly turned on just thinking about you. Sorry, Mom. My imagination just got carried away there."

She continued to look at me suspiciously.

"Are you trying to distract me?" she asked, "Trying to throw me off of what you've been doing? It's not going to work. We're still going to have that discussion."

"I--I wasn't," I muttered, but I was shaken.

Her nipples had hardened noticeably when she said, "what you've been doing." I turned and unsteadily exited her room, but felt the need to turn and look back at her. Mom was looking at my butt when I did.

As I returned to the den, I felt like I was walking through thick fog. Honestly, I cannot recall ever looking at my mother's breasts before that. Oh, I was aware she had larger breasts than most women. What had my mind reeling was that my mother had looked hot and horny, the way Lorna looked when she had me alone and wanted me to fuck her.

I wasn't exaggerating when I had told Lorna she was beautiful. Not only was she the most attractive teacher at my school, she was one of the most gorgeous women I had ever seen. My mother might just have her beat in the looks department, and it shook me to realize that was the case.

Mom had always been my angel. I couldn't count the number of times I'd awakened in the hospital to find her holding my hand and giving me a loving smile. Somehow I had missed the fact that she was a sexy woman until that afternoon. It wasn't as though her outfit was that revealing. She'd worn it--or something similar--many times before over the years.

I suppose it's possible that it was my experiences with Lorna that had opened my eyes. I'd never considered the possibility of having sex with an older woman before, and I think I was looking at my mother in that light. Whatever the case was, I had some distinctly inappropriate thoughts about my mother swirling through my brain for the rest of that afternoon.

Just to be clear, I wasn't thinking about having sex with her. I was just thinking about her as a sexy woman with an incredible body and gorgeous face. I wondered what she would look like naked, wondered what she looked like when she had sex, and I felt guilty for thinking it.

* * *

I was incredibly nervous after my friends left. My usual late afternoon workout did nothing to help me get all those worrying thoughts out of my mind. When I showered afterward, I recall shaking my head several times. I simply could not stop thinking about my mother's sexy body and wondering how I could have missed it all those years. Mom read the guilt in my expression, but for once she interpreted it wrong.

"Oh, honey," she sighed, putting her arms around me and giving me a firm hug, "I'm sorry I made you feel bad about what you did. I mean, it's perfectly natural and I should have expected it. After all, you're an eighteen-year-old young man. I should have expected you'd be horny and need some sort of release."

I let out a strangled gasp, but could not block out how wonderful her breasts felt pressed against my chest. If she had planned to put me at ease by saying what she did, it backfired spectacularly. Instead of relaxing, I was horrified to feel my dick getting hard from my mother's touch and her words. She pulled her head back, looking up at my face and letting out a sigh.

"So, who was the girl?" she asked. When I spluttered and shook my head, she added, "It's okay, Billy. I promise I won't get mad." I continued to stammer and tried to pull back from her, and her eyes widened in concern. "Oh, God, how young is this girl? Did you get her pregnant?"

I finally found my voice then.

"NO!" I gasped. "Mom, I swear, I never so much as asked out any of the girls in my high school. I certainly never had sex with any of them!"

I watched her shoulders relax and she blew out a huge breath, but then she hugged me to her again and pressed the side of her face against my chest. "Oh, thank God," she breathed.

It was all I could do not to groan in frustration. My dick was pressed against her lower belly, and it was hard. There wasn't a damned thing I could do about it. Mom stiffened and finally pulled back from me. When she bent to glance down at my crotch, she gave me an arousing view down her blouse. Her incredible breasts were almost completely displayed at that angle. I could see all the way down to her hard nipples. She licked her lips and looked up at my face, and I swallowed heavily.

She had seen me looking down her blouse.

We stood there in the living room and looked at each other's faces for a long while. Well, maybe it wasn't that long, but it sure as hell felt like a long time. Then Mom broke the spell by shaking her head.

"So, Billy, who were you having sex with this afternoon?" she asked. Her voice was almost a growl, and it made me shiver to see the look in her eyes.

"I promised I would never tell," I whispered, shaking my head slowly.

Once again her eyes and nostrils flared as she looked into my eyes. It triggered my memory from earlier, when she had done the same thing right after I came home, and that was when I figured out she had smelled the evidence on me. My own nostrils flared then. There was no mistaking the aroma of my mother's aroused pussy.

Our eyes locked and we both gulped.

"So, you're seeing an older woman for sex, and you promised to keep it a secret," she whispered.

I nodded slowly, twice.

"Do your friends know?" she asked.

I shook my head and licked my lips.

"They don't have a clue," I croaked. I cleared my throat and added, "Nobody does, Mom. Nobody but you. You're just too damned smart."

She shrugged, but that made her hard, throbbing nipples all too obvious.

"I just pay attention," she countered.

I nodded, but couldn't help letting my eyes drift down to her incredible, heaving breasts once again. It was just for an instant, but there was no way she could miss it. She also couldn't miss how my completely hard cock pulsed in the front of my shorts when I had glanced at her breasts. She let out another groan.

"I wish you hadn't done that," she whispered.

"I'm sorry, Mom," I said, shaking my head. "I'll try not to stare at you like that again."

She smiled and shook her head, and I cocked my head to the right as I tried to figure out what had her amused.

"Oh, I don't mind you staring at my tits," she chuckled. My eyes widened in surprise, and she let out another breathy chuckle. "Guys have been staring at my tits for so long, I just expect it," she explained. "No, I just wish you hadn't hooked up with this older woman you're seeing. I worry about you, baby. You know that. Now I'm going to worry that this woman is taking advantage of my baby boy."

"I'm not a baby anymore, Mom," I growled in protest.

She sighed and her eyes once more raked down my front to the obvious bulge of my erection.

"No, you are not," she said, still staring at my crotch. She actually looked a little guilty when she abruptly forced her gaze back to my face. "It's just that I've been taking care of you my whole life," she murmured, shaking her head and giving me a soft, sad smile.

That smile lasted for about a second, and then her eyes widened and she colored. About the time she started shaking her head, it hit me what she had just implied. She'd been taking care of me my whole life, and she wished I hadn't started seeing some other woman to take care of these new, sexual needs.

"I--I--I didn't mean--" she stammered.

"Of course not," I blurted.

She looked so out-of-sorts that I felt the need to hug her, so I did. Mom let out a gasp as her hard nipples were mashed against me, and my rampant erection poked her before I could pull my hips back.

"Sorry," I murmured.

She felt me pulling away from her and her hands quickly wrapped around my back, pulling me firmly against her.

"It's okay," she assured me.

I stopped trying to pull away and wrapped my arms around her back, giving her a long, loving embrace. She sighed and melted into me, but that meant that her body rubbed against the tip of my bulging cock a few times. When she turned her head and smiled up at me, I was pretty sure she had done it on purpose. We shared a brief smooch and finally released each other. Mom sighed again as she watched me retreat to my bedroom. I didn't dare look back at her.

It was all I could do to resist jacking off, and I didn't want to do that when I had those arousing thoughts and images of my sexy mother swirling through my brain. My dick was still completely hard, and I did what I always did when I wanted to make it go away. I focused on the scars on the inside of my right thigh.

They had faded somewhat over the past five years, but just looking at them brought back the horrifying memory of that day in school when the jagged edges of my broken femur had erupted out of the skin there along with a torrent of my blood. If not for the instantaneous response of my quick-thinking teacher, I would have bled to death. She'd been a medic in the Army reserves back before she had gone to college to earn her teaching certificate. None of my other teachers had her medical qualifications or training.

My erection promptly wilted as I had that sobering reminder. It was a miracle I was even alive, and I could not afford to be careless. In that context, I once again recalled my mother hovering near my hospital bed. I'd been mercifully unconscious when they had set those bones, and they put me under for the surgeries that were required to securely fasten some of the pieces back together.

Mom had let out a huge breath in relief when I finally opened my eyes to look up at her, and then she had graced me with that loving smile. She was my mother, my constant companion, and my guardian angel. It was wrong of me to look at her the way I had that afternoon. Once I had that reminder firmly in my mind, I let my shorts drop to cover those scars and figured I would be able to control my lustful thoughts.

* * *

When we met in the kitchen half an hour later to prepare dinner, it was obvious my mother had taken a shower. She still wore that thick, fluffy bathrobe and her hair was slightly damp. I bit my lip when I wondered if she had taken a cold shower to cool her ardor. I shook my head and then thought, Hell, I should have taken a cold shower. I'm already getting hard again.

The bathrobe she wore was not the least bit revealing. It covered her body down to just above her knees, and the thick cotton completely obscured her cleavage. What had my dick stiffening was the thought that she was naked beneath it. There were no panties, no bra, nothing to stop me from seeing her stacked, sexy body if that robe should happen to fall open. It didn't happen, but that's where my mind was stuck.

When we sat down at the dining room table to eat, Mom cleared her throat and gave me a serious look.

"Just so we're clear," she said, "I did not mean to imply earlier that I wanted to take care of you that way. I'm your mother, after all. It would be completely wrong for me to do something like that."

"Of course," I replied, nodding in understanding.

She blew out a huge breath in relief and said, "Good."

We both ate a few bites and I tried to think of something else to say to change the subject. I desperately wanted to stop picturing my mother "taking care" of my stubbornly hard cock. That made me think of Lorna eagerly taking care of me with her mouth or her pussy, which didn't help. However, after I recalled taking Lorna from behind under the bleachers that afternoon, I suddenly recalled that I had schoolwork I hadn't done.

"Oh!" I blurted. "I actually have some homework. I almost forgot about it."

"Is it anything I can help you with?" Mom immediately asked.

I nodded as I thought about it. "Actually, yes," I replied, giving her a smile.

We smiled at each other a lot more as we ate our dinner. It took me a few minutes to realize that I had unintentionally been giving my mother a show. We had one of those glass tabletops--actual glass, not acrylic--but we'd had it for years at that point. I wasn't consciously aware that I was glancing down through the glass at my mother's legs. There were enough dishes on the table that it wasn't like staring at her through a window.

Mom watched my face, and then watched my hard dick throbbing in my shorts each time my gaze was drawn down to her shapely legs. The way I was sitting, the thick shaft and bulbous head were clearly outlined by my thin shorts. When I finally figured it out, Mom saw me blush and she giggled.

"You're so cute," she said softly, smiling and shaking her head.

I swallowed heavily and thought about trying to hide my obvious boner, but no solution sprang to mind that wouldn't merely draw her attention to what I was doing. Then I watched her eat the last two bites of her dinner before she pushed her chair back and stood up. She looked down at my plate and nodded as she gathered her dishes.

"I'll wash these real quick, and then I'll get dressed and meet you in your room," she said.

I nodded, carefully chewing the bite in my mouth and swallowing. "Sounds good," I replied.

* * *

It's tough to look at my desk now and recall what that desk in my bedroom was like. For the past thirty years, every desk I have owned has been mostly covered with computer accessories. My monitor, keyboard, mouse, headphones, and cell phone take up most of the surface. Back then it was mostly clear space for me to spread out my notebooks, paper, calculator and text book. When I felt like drawing something, I had plenty of room to spread out blank sheets of paper or a sketchbook.

I only bring it up because I had to close my eyes and lean back as I tried to picture my old bedroom in my mind. On the other hand, I can still picture my mother with utter clarity when she walked into my bedroom that night. At the time, I didn't know it was called a "babydoll nightie" but she had this emerald-green one with a matching demi-bra and panties. Maybe it could more accurately be called a "shelf" bra, but I don't think the lingerie industry used that term back then.

She had worn that particular nightie before, and I had seen her in it. Until that night I did not realize I could see through it. It was shiny and translucent, giving me teasing glimpses of her body beneath it. The bra cradled her generous breasts and held them out in front of her, framing them and making them the center of my focus as soon as she walked into the room. I stared at the obvious points of her rock-hard nipples and swallowed heavily. Then my eyes roamed down to the tiny triangle of her panties and the long expanse of her exposed, smooth thighs.

I caught myself then and jerked my head up to look at her face, but she merely looked amused. It was also clear that she had brushed out her long, light-brown hair and it looked shiny and lustrous. She had stopped after taking two steps into my room, and I realized she was allowing me to look at her body before she came closer to help me with my homework.

I managed to fight the urge to apologize again. She had told me earlier that she didn't mind me staring at her tits, but I realized in that moment that she actually enjoyed it when I did. I shook my head and gave her a weak smile, and then she walked over next to me and looked down at the Algebra on the desk in front of me.

"Here," I said, standing up and offering her my padded desk chair, "Have a seat."

"Thanks," she murmured.

I had another folding chair over by my closet, and I grabbed it and opened it before setting it next to her. Now that she was sitting, the nightie had ridden up to expose her right hip and the curve of her bottom. I could see the thin string of her panty sitting high on her hip and thought, Those are the smallest panties I have ever seen. I wonder if they even cover her pussy.

The front of the nightie was draped over the tops of her thighs, so I couldn't actually see the crotch of those panties. That was probably a good thing. There is no way I could have concentrated on math if I had actually seen my mother's pussy lips.

Once we started discussing the Algebra problems, I managed to shift my focus there and mostly blocked out my mother's sexy outfit. We got to the last problem before she reached over and rested her right hand on my shoulder. I looked at her face, and her concerned expression made me gulp.

"Billy, I can't help but worry about you," she said softly. She shook her head and added, "If this woman's husband catches you..."

"Oh! She's not married," I blurted. I smiled and added, "In fact, she's not that much older than me."

Her lips turned up in a thin smile and I realized I had said too much. There was a cunning little gleam in her eye, and my own eyes widened when I started following the logical trail those clues had laid out for her. If I was seeing a woman who wasn't married, who was only a little bit older than me, why would we have to sneak around?