My Hot Mom

That was the moment I resolved to start being a bit bolder. See, sure, I wanted to fuck my mother. I wanted her so badly I could taste it. I wanted her because she was beautiful, because I loved her, and because I wanted to make her feel good. I wanted to give her everything Dad couldn't or wouldn't. I wanted her for all of those reasons but, from that moment forward, I also wanted her because of Dad. I couldn't hit him without going to jail. I couldn't argue with him without being kicked out. He'd stop paying for my college for any of that, too. But there was one thing that I could do to get even with him, even if he didn't know I had done it, and that was to fuck his wife.

* * *

That evening, we all stayed up as usual. Mom, in her usual pink nightie, freshly washed, sat up with her legs crossed watching the news.

As usual, Dad went up to bed and Mom stayed up to watch Saturday Night Live. "Steve," she said. "Come sit over here."

I sat on the near spot on the couch. We watched and laughed together at the skits as they played out; well, a few of them. Not all the skits were winners. See, with it being summer, this episode was a rerun and many things about it had not aged well over the last few months. Finally, at one point, during a commercial, I noticed that she looked a little sad and I asked, "What's wrong?"

She shrugged.

I suggested, "Come here and let me rub your shoulders. You look tense."

Much to my delight, she smiled and nodded. She scooted to the middle seat, sitting on the edge, turned her back to me, and pulled her hair to one side.

I began gently kneading her shoulder muscles. She was tense.

"I'm so lucky to have such a good son," she told me. "You are the most considerate man I know and I'm going to cry when some little girl takes you away from me. Actually, I'm surprised one hasn't put her hooks into you yet. You are so nice and handsome."

I chuckled as I rubbed down to her shoulders, boldly scooting the spaghetti straps of her nightie off and down to her elbows. I said, "Girls my age don't want nice guys."

She nodded and said, "Well, you need to find someone more mature."

"Yeah," I told her. "I need to find someone like you."

She leaned back toward me and I went from rubbing her muscles to caressing her shoulders. Slowly, working back and forth, letting my hands roam, I rubbed her farther and farther from her shoulders. I rubbed down her back and then I pulled her back against my chest and caressed her upper chest.

"Mmm," Mom moaned. "Who taught you how to give such a good massage?"

I didn't say anything as I ventured farther and farther down. I then rubbed down her cleavage, pressing firmly as if I was only interested in massaging her.

"That feels nice," she confessed.

I caressed the tops of her breasts, the nightie riding low and exposing her tits. Then, on the tenth pass at caressing all around her upper chest, I swooped my fingers along the underside of her left breast, brushing the loosened top of her nightie down to her waist, and pressed my palm down onto her hard nipple.

"Whoa! What are you doing?" she asked with a gasp.

I gently kneaded and massaged her left tit and then cupped the other one in my other hand, kneading and caressing them in unison.

Without pushing herself away, she looked over her shoulder at me and said, "Steve, I'm your mother. I don't think you should be doing that."

I told her, "I'm just massaging you; trying to make you feel good. Do you want me to stop?"

She groaned, "My shoulders feel fine. What are you doing?"

I realized she had not asked me to stop. I caressed her tits, feeling the weight of each of them; the skin soft, the nipples hard against my hands. Then I rolled the nipples between my fingers. "Feel good?" I asked.

"Yes, but it's not right," she told me, though she moaned softly with pleasure. Still, she didn't pull away, letting me continue to caress her breasts.

With her head still turned like that, she just stared up into my face. Slowly, I leaned in and, when she didn't turn away, I kissed her. Her lips were soft but closed. I kissed her gently.

"Are you coming to bed?" Dad shouted from upstairs.

I reluctantly broke the kiss and looked toward the foyer to see if Dad was coming down the stairs.

"In a few minutes," Mom replied, pulling away from me and pulling her nightie back onto her shoulders. Then she looked at me and said, "Thank you for the massage. You're a good son."

Before I could reply, she was gone, heading upstairs to her bedroom where Dad waited. I was so turned on and excited. I smiled to myself that I had actually just held my mother's tits in my hands, as well as kissed her, and it had not destroyed our relationship. Well, it hadn't seemed to. I wondered how much farther she would let me go.

* * *

Well after midnight, SNL having long been off the air, I put in a pornographic DVD. I only had a few, since most of the stuff I watched was online. I found that I preferred a movie to have a story behind it. It made it more real for me. Maybe that had something to do with Mom and her movies with rich plots that made me that way.

This DVD had a lot of story. It was named Chameleons and was one of my favorites. It's a sort of sci-fi or fantasy movie from long ago, but very well done.

I changed out of my shorts and tee-shirt in favor of wearing only my robe. I also had a towel; just in case. Normally, I would masturbate to the movie and finish in the bathroom, but I knew I needed to be careful.

First, sitting in the middle section of the couch, I masturbated to the scene on the stairs; the first scene of the movie. I loved the scene itself and the woman, though I was put off by the man's poor acting; he liked to have his character giggle.

Then, I masturbated to the hot scene in the bathroom. I also loved the nightclub scene surrounding it; I always found it so interesting.

After that, there was some plot and dialog, so, as it happened, it was at that point, my cock soft again, when Mom appeared. She was still wearing her pink nightie and had just came up beside the couch, having come down the stairs without alerting me.

"Mom!" I exclaimed, pulling my robe to cover myself. She had certainly had time to examine my nude body and flaccid dick. If I had been bolder and less startled, I might have left my robe open.

She smiled at me, glanced at the TV, and grabbed the remote. As she turned up the volume and sat beside me, she asked, "Are you watching one of my shows? I came down to discuss what happened but, do you mind if I watch with you?"

"No, but-" I tried to explain.

"Oh, she's very pretty. I don't recognize her. What's her name?" she asked.

"Deidre Holland," I told her. "I don't think you'd know her."

"No, I don't think I do. When was this movie made?" she asked.

"1992," I explained "But-"

"Oh, well, that explains it. Wow, look how well produced this is! Oh, now, he's handsome. Wow," she said.

"He's Rocco," I told her. "He's a-"

As the camera panned down, she said, "She's going to go down on him."

"Yeah, I think you may-" I tried to tell her.

"His body is so muscular and, oh shit, look at that!" she gasped.

"Mom, you may not want to watch this," I told her.

"Look at the size of his cock! I didn't think they could show that! What channel is this on?" she asked.

"It's a DVD," I explained. "It's-"

"Oh, it's a pornographic movie," Mom said, the light dawning. "Well, it's very well produced," she said. Then she looked at me and said, "Oh, you were in here masturbating, weren't you?"

"I was-" I started to say but, this time, was glad when Mom cut me off, because I didn't know how I was going to end that sentence.

"Don't be ashamed. You're a grown man and, of course, you have needs. I understand that. I have needs too. I mean, you do whatever you want. After we kissed, you need to... um... I'm just going to pop off back upstairs like I was never here," she rambled, embarrassing herself.

Feeling that I maybe had the upper hand on her for once, and feeling emboldened by our prior encounter, I said, "Do you want to stay and watch it with me?"

She looked at the screen and said, "Wow, she's actually taking his big cock into her mouth isn't she!?! Um, well, yeah, I'd like to stay and watch. I mean, just to see how this scene turns out. I suppose that would be okay, wouldn't it?"

"Fine with me," I told her.

"Okay, well, you scoot down to that end of the couch and I'll stay right here, okay?" she offered. "We don't need a repeat of what happened earlier."

I replied, "Okay," before quickly moving to the other end of the couch, leaving the middle seat unoccupied. I didn't want her to leave or to put up extra barriers.

Content with that, Mom sat and began watching the movie. Her eyes were glued to the screen. "She can't take more than a third into her mouth, can she?"

"No," I agreed, my cock rising inside my robe as I glanced back and forth between the scene on the TV and Mom sitting on the other end of the couch. I could see her hard nipples denting the fabric of her pink nightie. I wanted to escalate but I didn't know how, so I just tried to relax and see what happened.

"Wow, look at her body," she complimented as Rocco took Deidre's clothes off. Then she laughed and said, "That's almost like one of my movies. He's down there eating her pussy, but we can't see anything."

"Yeah," I agreed. It was a strange turn of a scene in the movie, but I knew they'd get down to business soon, since I had watched it about a dozen times before. My cock was harder over watching Mom than the TV. The movie had gotten tamer with time considering the things they do on the internet now.

"This is so hot," she declared as she cupped her tits again through her nightie.

I was trying to think of what I could do that would push the limits but not scare Mom off. Finally, I thought that, since she knew I had been masturbating and had agreed to stay, then maybe, if I let my cock poke through my robe, letting her see it, I could always just apologize that it got away from me and she could really only blame herself.

Mom said, "Oh shit, look at that. He's rubbing his big cock on her ass. Wow. She's so slim. I don't know if she can take that." She watched the screen, spellbound.

I laid back a bit and watched Mom as the characters on the screen began fucking. My cock rose to attention and I let it part the folds of my robe and emerge into the light of the TV.

"Oh shit," she breathed, watching the characters on the screen start to fuck each other. "That's a lot fucking hotter than my movies!" She looked at me with a smile. Her smile transformed to a look of lust and she said, "Well, looks like you're enjoying it too."

"Sorry," I said, like I had planned to. I slowly grabbed my cock in my fist and complained, "It has a mind of its own."

She replied, "Don't be sorry. It's okay. Go ahead and masturbate. I'm the one intruding here."

"You're not intruding," I told her. As I began stroking my cock in front of her, pushing my robe aside so she could see the full size of it, I boldly said, "I like doing this in front of you."

"You do?" she asked.

I nodded. "You want to do it with me?" I asked her, throwing all caution to the wind.

"With you?" she asked.

"You can touch yourself if you want to. I don't mind," I explained.

"I-I don't know about that," she declared as the scene ended, and more plot began to be revealed. Mom, despite her words, sat back and watched more of the movie.

As we watched the movie together, sex scenes came and went. They didn't last long in this movie and I found Mom touching herself once or twice. As for me, I was turned on in spots by the movie but knowing my mother was watching me out of the corner of her eye kept me hard. I stroked my cock slowly all through the movie, letting her get a good look.

At one point, during a sex scene near the end of the movie, Mom told me, "I hope you realize that you have a really nice cock, Steve. You have really grown into a handsome man," she added with a smile.

"Thanks," I replied. I wanted to escalate things, but, again, I didn't know how. Grasping at straws I asked, "Nice? What do you like about it?"

"Well," she began, thinking about it for a second. "What's not to like? It's long and thick; bigger than your dad's. It's hard and straight. The head is pink and flairs just right. It's really amazing."

I smiled at that but found myself at a loss for words.

Before I could think of anything to say, the movie ended and Mom told me, "That was a good movie. The scenes were too short though for me to get off, but I got pretty creamy."

"I can put one in with longer scenes," I offered quickly standing up, my cock pulsing strongly, my robe wide open.

"I'd better get back to bed. You need some privacy so you can come," she told me as she stood up.

"You didn't come either," I told her.

She laughed nervously. "This isn't right."

"We're not even touching each other," I told her, feeling the moment slipping away.

"I know, but, looking at my body is one thing; this is something else," she told me. With that, she turned and headed up to bed before I could form another protest.

* * *

The next morning, I woke very late; in time for lunch, not breakfast. Dad was mowing the grass and Mom was working in her garden. I put on my tee-shirt and shorts, before going outside to help her plant her flowers.

"Good morning, Sweetheart," she told me with a smile.

"Good morning, Mom. Need some help?" I asked rhetorically.

"Sure, here" she said, handing me a bag of fertilizer. "Spread that around."

So, we worked in the garden just like normal. She didn't act any differently toward me because of our recent encounters. I was glad of that, but, looking at her on her knees, digging in the dirt, I still imagined walking up to her and pulling my cock out for her to suck, or maybe sliding in behind her and fucking the shit out of her. I knew it was wrong, but I couldn't help it. My cock swelled in my shorts at the thought.

Afterward we all went inside. Mom fixed sandwiches and we ate. Then Mom took a shower. As soon as she was out of the shower, Dad announced that he had to go pick up a new blade for the lawn mower at the hardware store; he had hit a tree root and bent the shit out of the current one.

I washed up and changed my clothes, into a different shirt and shorts. When I got done, I found that Dad was gone and Mom, wearing a nice gray dress, was waiting for me in the hall.

"Mom!" I said, surprised.

"I didn't mean to scare you," she told me.

I laughed and said, "I didn't expect you to be lurking in the hall."

"I wasn't lurking. I was just waiting for you to get changed," she told me.

"Oh? Why? What's up?" I asked.

She took a deep breath and said, "Well, it's about last night."

I was sure I went a little pale. Though I wanted my mother, I also loved her and wanted her approval. I dreaded what she was about to say. I waited.

"I think I may have over-reacted," she told me, dropping her eyes to the floor. "I told you to go ahead and masturbate, and then I freaked out when you did. That was pretty dumb of me."

"Which part?" I asked. "Telling me to or freaking out about it?"

"Freaking out," she clarified. "Look, you are a healthy young man and you have needs. I understand that, like I said last night. So, if you want to watch porn and masturbate, that's fine with me. There's nothing more natural."

I didn't want her to say that she shouldn't have watched. I felt that was what was coming next, so I beat her to the punch and asked, "You liked watching me, didn't you? It turned you on to see me stroke my cock."

Her eyes went wide at that and she looked up at me; then she nodded. "It's so wrong."

I knew it was wrong too; that's what made it hot. "No, it's not," I lied. Then, with all the boldness I could muster, I added, "It's not like we fucked." I loved saying that in front of my mother. It felt so very wrong. I quickly added, "You just saw something that turned you on. That's all."

She licked her lips and then ran her hands up her sides, over her breasts, and to her neck. "I suppose so," she said.

"Are you okay?" I asked. "Is your neck sore?"

She shook her head. "Just working in the garden, and other stuff, has made me a little tense, I guess. Really, my legs are hurting more than my neck; all that squatting."

"I could rub your legs," I offered. "It might make them feel better."

She smiled and said, "I don't know if that's such a good idea."

I explained, "Mom, I promise I won't touch your tits again. Okay? Let me do this for you. I love you."

She sighed and said, "I love you too, Son. You're such a good boy. I guess a quick massage wouldn't hurt."

I smiled and said, "That's the spirit." Reaching down and taking her hand in mine, I pulled her into my room and said, "Lay down on the bed and kick off those shoes."

She did as she was bid, without another word. She laid back, up on her elbows, watching me.

I took her foot and began rubbing it. I rubbed both feet. I rubbed up her calves and then, kneeling between her feet, worked my way up to her thighs.

"That feels good," she moaned and then laid down on her back. "You're such a good son."

"I just want to make you feel good," I told her as I worked my way higher and higher up her thighs. "You like this?" I asked.

"Yes," she sighed. "Your hands are so strong."

Again, I saw that Mom wore no panties. I worked my way up her thighs until my hand again brushed against her pussy.

"Whoa," she moaned. "I think you're a little high there."

"Think so?" I asked as I continued to massage her thighs but regularly brushing the side of my hands against her pussy.

"I'm your mother," she told me. "You need to be careful."

"I am," I told her as I rubbed my hands along either thigh. I pushed my thumbs down between her legs and ran them back up alongside her entire slit. "Does this feel good?"

She let out a shaky breath and sighed, "So good. But you can't touch me like that. It's not right."

Mom had come into my room and laid down on my bed without any panties on. She was protesting but not physically trying to get away. I could see the moisture coating her pussy; feel it on my thumbs. It was time to capitalize. I said softly, "Mom, you've taken care of me all of your life. Let me take care of you."

As I dipped my head down between her thighs and pressed by mouth against my mother's pussy, she pushed herself back a few inches and said, "No, you can't do that!"

I pushed myself forward, chasing her the few inches she had moved. When I reached her pussy again, I sucked up her pussy flesh and lapped my tongue against her hard clit.

She moaned, "Oh, shit! Steve, that feels good, but we can't do this!" When I didn't even pause in licking her hard clit she added, "Son, please stop! Don't do this!"

I lifted my head and said, "Oh, Mom, your pussy tastes so good." I then dropped my head back down, running my tongue up and down the length of her slit. Then, resting my lips around her clit, I glided my tongue around and around the slick bud repeatedly.

She groaned, "Does it really taste good? You like it? Oh god, you're making me so wet, Steve. Shit! This is so wrong." She didn't kick at me or try to push me away, only her words said 'no'.

Though I knew what I was doing was wrong, I couldn't stop. I didn't want to stop. I ate my mother's pussy for several minutes like that. I watched her face from across her flat stomach and between her big tits, all covered by her gray dress. I mostly saw her chin when her head was laid back but, occasionally, she would lift her head and look down at me, lust blazing in her eyes.

Finally, as her orgasm neared, Mom looked down at me again and said, "Yes, that's it. Just like that. Don't stop. You're going to make Mommy come!"