The Bucket List

It wasn't until I was removing my jacket in my bedroom, did I remember her panties.

For the briefest moment before I thrust my hand into the pocket, I thought I'd imagined it. That possibly the whole night had been a dream considering how surreal events had transpired. But when I felt the satin touch my fingertips once more, it became as real as my impending ejaculation. It happened so quickly. With one hand I was dropping my pants as the other, with black thong onboard, lifted to my face. So few strokes needed, I found myself cumming upon my bedspread, thread after glorious thread, spraying across my newly changed sheets. A copious amount of cum that I closed my eyes and imagined was upon her. My cock pulled dripping from her pussy to coat her pubic mound, her belly, and her breasts. To glaze her beautiful face. I breathed in hard the scent left upon her panties as I came down from my orgasmic high, opening my eyes to examine them, the gusset still moist from pressing her magnificent cunt. It was then I looked at the mess I'd created, and the post-climax reality kicked in. What had really happened tonight? I asked myself.

Mom had gotten drunk. Way too drunk. Through a series of leading questions from her overly fixated son, she'd admitted something slightly sexual about her college days and told me of the (admittedly raunchy) exploits of an early date with Dad. For a moment she'd even confused me with him to further emphasize how inebriated she'd become, possibly explaining her completely reenacting the scenario, panties in my pocket and all. Was any of it about me? Was she aware of how provocative urinating in the street in front of me was? Had she even thought of my presence when she did it? And the bedroom? She was blackout drunk! Exposing herself like that had been merely accidental. The more I thought of it, the more ashamed I became of my actions. I should've covered her up immediately. Stroking my cock while I stared at her! What was I thinking? What kind of son was I? And despite the possible ignominy of my behavior, the answer came directly. A son that loved his mother. So much so that he wanted to express that love physically. Surely there was nothing wrong with that!? I looked again at my mother's panties. And despite all that I'd thought previously, their very existence harbored the possibility she wanted the same.

And on that note, I slept soundly that night.

*

I had no idea what to expect the next day. Mom hadn't been that drunk in a long while. Aunt Krista's fortieth birthday came to mind, and I wasn't surprised to not have seen her before I left for my part-time job in the early morning. It was mid-afternoon when I returned and our paths finally crossed and if I'd thought distance, time, and the cold light of day may have altered my feelings for her, I was mistaken.

Sheepish was how I'd describe her demeanor as I forensically examined her appearance, looking for some sign from her she was conducive to reestablishing anything like the antics of the night before. It may have been wishful thinking, but I saw many. She wore one of my old college sweatshirts. One that she'd commandeered after it had shrunk in the wash long ago. It wasn't uncommon for her to don it, but surely choosing such an item of clothing after a night so intimate was an acknowledgment of something more! Wasn't it? My eyes continued their investigation, delighting in finding her in the tightest of grey leggings, and as she tied her short hair back in the smallest of ponytails and the sweatshirt lifted, I spied the most beautiful of cameltoes at her groin. Was she even wearing panties? I wondered and found my cock stiffening in my work pants, doing little to hide its presence.

"I just wanted to say..." Mom cleared her throat after we'd exchanged admittedly awkward pleasantries. "...well, apologize really," she added before I quickly attempted to dismiss her.

"No, Mom, you..." I began before she cut me off.

"No, listen, Baby, please," she insisted. "Last night, I had a lot to drink. Too much," she rolled her eyes and I smirked. "No, believe me. You wouldn't have wanted to see me this morning," she managed a smile, and I silently refuted her assertion. I would've loved to have been there. To wake up next to her. To hold her in my arms, my body against hers I thought, and my dick pulsed against my pants. "But that doesn't forgive my actions," she added, refocusing my attention from my fantasy to what she was saying. "No," she overrode my attempt to dismiss her apology. "When I can't even remember what I did beyond fleeting recollections, I know I was out of control; and I'm sorry if I embarrassed you. I definitely embarrassed myself!" She concluded.

"No, you didn't!" I refuted. "I had fun...and you did too," I asserted and to this, she smiled.

"Well, I couldn't tell you if I did or didn't," she managed to giggle. "I just know I'm never drinking again. And neither are you, Mister," she pointed a finger at me much as she'd done the night before. "At least not until you're legal."

"Alright, fair enough," I conceded, leaving her in the kitchen on my way to get changed before I stopped and turned, almost having forgotten the plan I'd put into action whilst at work. "Oh, by the way," I called back to her, and she looked up from where she'd seated at the bench. "Are you home after dinner tonight?" I quoted exactly the question she'd put to me days earlier.

*

I hadn't told her what to expect, just that we were going for a drive. It wasn't uncommon for us. Since I was sixteen and she'd first given me driving lessons, we'd often gone on weekend road trips together. Never far; along the coast or into the hills outside L.A. or the like, though admittedly not for some time and I had seen the surprise in Mom's face when I'd suggested it, especially so, the time I'd proposed. Nevertheless, regardless of the destination, she seemed enthusiastic, and I noted had even changed her outfit when she joined me in the car post-dinner.

"So, are you going to tell me where we're headed?" Mom finally inquired after showing amazing restraint during our meal together.

I glanced across at her in the passenger seat, the denim skirt she'd put on riding high up her bare thighs and I immediately set to imagining the color and style of her panties before smiling as I realized that all going to plan that evening, I'd definitely find out.

"It's not like you not to be out with friends on a Saturday night!" she continued when I failed to immediately answer her query. "And why are you grinning?" she added, laughing.

I turned off the main road into a residential neighborhood and Mom immediately sat up in her seat.

"What are we doing here?' She glanced around, looking in my direction when I made another turn and slowed to a crawl outside a house we both knew, coming to a stop. "The Brandts!?" she noted. "Aren't they away?" She questioned me about our family friends. "They're in Europe Honey," Mom continued unable to reason as to why we'd stopped outside their residence.

I turned off the ignition and looked at Mom, her eyes on the empty house, its windows in darkness in the early evening.

"Mom, what do you remember about last night?" I asked her and as she turned back toward me, I saw her beginning to blush before the interior light of the car went out providing her cover.

"What?" She questioned.

"I mean, stuff you told me," I could feel myself blushing as well at the memory of her pissing in the street, her laying half naked on the bed. "You remember telling me about your bucket list?" I managed to ask, my heart palpitating with nervousness.

"Oh, Honey I..." She immediately looked back at the house as the cogs began to turn, the Brandts our only close friends with a pool on their property. "You're not serious!?" she again shifted in her seat as the realization kicked in. "I can't..." she began. "...we can't!" She faltered as she watched me reach behind into the back seat and pull out a beach towel.

*

"I emailed Dane," I explained to Mom as we entered the backyard of the property.

"He knows?" Mom was quick to query. "Does Audrey?" She gasped. "I'll never be able to look her in the face again."

"Mom, relax," I reassured her. "I just asked to use the pool. They know nothing more," I explained as I closed the gate behind us, entering our own private oasis. The day had been cooler than I'd hoped, and the air of the night had a chill that didn't bode well for the temperature of the pool. Nonetheless, throwing the towel upon a banana lounge, I set to winding back the pool covering as Mom looked on nervously, fidgeting.

"Baby, I don't know about this," she looked at the calm surface of the water and then back toward me.

"Well, I do," I boldly exclaimed as I lifted my t-shirt off over my head and threw it next to the towel. "What do you say?" I paused, looking at her, the only illumination, small solar lights in the garden bed beside the pool, reflected in her wide eyes.

"You're really going to...?" She tentatively questioned as she watched my hands move to my belt and again, I paused.

"Mom, you said yourself you regretted not doing it all those years ago," I exhaled, sounding braver than I felt under the circumstances. "You know, despite how you feel about last night; I had a great time. I want you to tick this off your bucket list," I smiled. "And I want to do it with you."

Emboldened by my speech, I kicked off my flip-flops and in one grand motion pulled down and removed my pants and briefs to stand before my mother naked. She did nothing to disguise where her eyes lingered, slowly lifting them up from my groin, my cock unfortunately not looking its largest at the time.

"I... I don't know that I can," Mom began but I ignored her, jumping into the pool at the deep end.

The cold hit me like a shovel in the chest and I came up gasping and shivering, doing my best to disguise the discomfort. "C... Come in," I stammered. "The water's perfect."

In an encouraging sign, Mom laughed.

"You lie," she accused, and I could see her grinning before she looked around the yard as if to make sure no one else was present to witness what would come next. No. This was a private show for me alone. Treading water, my eyes never left her as she turned and lifted her tank top, her hands circling around her back to unclasp her bra. The clothing joining mine on the banana lounge, she paused momentarily before I heard her exhale deeply and unbutton her skirt. It dropped down her legs leaving my mother wearing nothing but a pair of what looked like orange cotton panties. These too were hastily removed before she turned and with an arm across her breasts and a hand covering her groin, she ran and jumped into the pool no more than two feet from me.

She burst from the water in a tumult of suffering; gasping to refill the expelled air from her lungs. Her breasts rose above the surface momentarily, her nipples understandably standing to attention.

"You... you," she gasped. "God it's freezing," she managed to laugh as she wiped water from her eyes.

"Yeah," I chuckled. "It really is! So how does it feel?"

"H... Horrible," she managed.

"No, you know."

"Oh," her breathing regulated as she became acclimatized to the temperature. "Strange. Amazing. I can't believe we're doing this! Together," she added.

"Why?" I laughed. "We're just a mother and son going for a swim. Nothing weird about that!" I smirked and she shared my mirth, splashing water at me.

"You know what's different about this, Mister!" she giggled.

"Oh right," I again laughed. "We're naked!" I noted and despite the biting cold of the water, the thought, the reality, had my cock twitching beneath the surface.

We tread water. We raced each other across the width of the pool. At one point Mom floated on her back, her breasts and amazingly, her pubic mound, projecting from the still surface of the dark water, her skin glistening, reflecting the light of the moon. There were so many things I wanted to do. To swim between her legs. To lift her onto my shoulders, imagining her pussy pressed into the back of my neck. To embrace and have her sex against mine. To push her against the pool wall and penetrate her beneath the water; confess my feelings for her and begin our new life together, as lovers. But the moments never came.

"We should maybe think about getting out," Mom proposed as we clung to the edge of the pool, no more than five minutes having elapsed. "The neighbors have probably heard us and called the police by now," she ridiculously imagined.

I was pretty sure she was wrong, but getting out of the pool was definitely a good idea. Again, I'd see her naked. She'd see me. The potential was palpable.

"Good idea," I agreed and immediately lifted myself out of the pool, water cascading down my body. Despite the shriveled nature of my penis, I tuned immediately to help Mom up only to find she'd begun swimming to the steps at the far end, closer to our clothes.

Beating her there, I took possession of the towel and without drying myself, held it out lengthways in offering (conveniently obscuring my embarrassingly small dick and nestled balls) as she rose from the water.

There was little embarrassment on her behalf. Unlike when she'd entered the water, doing her best to hide her breasts and pussy, Mom now made no effort to protect her boobs, and as her chest rose above the water line, I feasted on her pale skin, the shadow of her nipples in the minimal light. There was a casual attempt to block her crotch from my eyes, her palm momentarily protecting her dripping thatch of pubic hair, but as her eyes lifted to meet mine, she dismissed the action, instead revealing herself to me in all her perfect nudity, using both hands to wipe the water from her face and slick back her hair.

"I think it's colder out," Mom's teeth chattered as she accepted my embrace with the towel. Wrapping it around her body like a sarong as I drew her into me.

"We'll warm up soon," I whispered as our bodies came together, Mom seemingly appreciating the hug, her hands, in turn, resting upon my shoulders.

"You're still wet," she remarked, her body shivering as I tightened my arms around her, feeling her breasts through the dampening towel, my dick reacting to its position pressed against her groin, hardening.

"I don't mind," I again whispered close to her ear, using the towel to caress her back in the feigned act of drying her skin, lowering a hand to creep momentarily onto a buttock. My dick pulsed against her, rapidly hardening and I swore she pushed her pelvis into me.

"Thank you," Mom's eyes darted from mine as she moved her head into my shoulder, and I wondered, for what? My hands on her butt? My cock against her pussy? "For tonight," she elaborated, her cheek against my neck, my dick now undeniable against her crotch.

"It's my pleasure," I sighed as my cock again twitched, filling with blood, and Mom exhaled at the contact, no doubt feeling my growing affection, her breath giving me goosebumps, her lips gently pressing my skin with the lightest of what could only be described as a kiss.

"You should get dry," Mom suddenly pulled away, the towel going with her leaving me naked and aroused, with nowhere for my erection to hide. Her eyes glanced at me, taking in my hard-on before she focused on her clothing.

"What? Wait, Mom..." I attempted to stall the proceedings, but she had her panties in hand and was stooping to place her feet inside before I had a chance to respond. "Mom," I repeated before I took stock of the moment. She'd just had her son press his hard cock against her. Her reaction wasn't unreasonable, especially as there'd been little forewarning it was about to happen. Had she even given me any signals she was amenable to the incest? I mean apart from drunkenly placing her panties in my pocket the night before, very little. Had I just made the biggest mistake of my life?

"Mom, I'm sorry," I offered, and as she made to put her bra back on and the towel dropped to the banana lounge, her eyes once more found mine.

"Oh Honey," she turned, sincerity in her eyes. "I'm just cold is all. It's nothing to do with..." her eyes once more glanced at my cock and it embarrassingly responded by pulsing under her gaze, growing larger despite my sudden self-doubt. She was understandably unable to finish her sentence, but also unable to hide the smirk that came to her mouth.

"It must have something to do with the cold," I explained my erection, relaxing as I saw her smile.

"Hmm, yeah. That'd be it!" Mom grinned as she finished dressing, buttoning up and straightening her skirt before she even thought of offering me the towel. Was it deliberate I wondered? Was she enjoying the moment as much as me?

"Better get dry Mister," she threw me the towel. "Don't want to get a cold," she added in a motherly way and to my delight, watched as I toweled myself down, doing nothing to hide my engorged cock. I was slow to get my clothes, wishing, under her nurturing gaze she'd stop me and once more press our bodies together. It didn't happen. A smiling shake of her head when I forced my hard-on into my briefs, was the only sign she was still cognizant of the uncomfortable development in our relationship.

*

"Did I say thank you?" Mom spoke in the car as we set out on our short trip home.

"Yeah," I chuckled, glancing over at her to see her focused on me, or more importantly my crotch, looking back at the road without drawing attention to it.

"I didn't know you were..." she trailed off after a pause. "I mean I've never been... I know it's popular nowadays," she cryptically added, and I seriously had no idea what she was talking about. My erection? The possibility of an incestuous relationship between us? "I've seen it on the women in lingerie catalogs and online in, well... in movies," she continued and now I was really confused.

"Mom. What are you talking about?" I questioned, laughing.

"Your... well. I noticed you're shaved. Down there!" She explained and I quickly glanced back to see her eyes once more on my groin.

"Oh!" I exclaimed.

"I've never done it," she admitted. "I've always wanted to," she quickly followed up. "Oh, my god. Should I be even talking to you about this?" She laughed.

"No, no it's all good," I immediately defended her, my cock stiffening as I realized she was discussing her pubic hair, of all things! "I don't mind," as opposed to earlier, my mind rapidly working. "So, you could say it's on your bucket list?" I suggested and again Mom laughed.

"Oh Gabe, no!" She was clearly beginning to enjoy the nature of our newfound relationship. "Well, it could be. God. It's sounding more like a 'sex bucket list' by the minute," she giggled as I pulled up in our driveway.

I turned off the car and we remained seated for a moment, silent. I so wanted to kiss her. It felt like one of my earliest dates; taking my then-girlfriend home. The nervousness. The desire.

"Soo, I guess we should..." I left it open-ended, turning toward her, hoping she'd say kiss, or fuck.

"Yep," Mom exhaled loudly before she unbuckled her seat belt and opened the door (not the action I'd hoped) and I followed her lead, walking back into our house.

*

Always a bridesmaid, never a bride. In my case, always the panties, never the pussy, I reflected as I lifted my mother's orange cotton panties to my face and inhaled their feminine scent. I really couldn't complain. Wasn't this reward enough? Finding her underwear abandoned on the bathroom vanity when preparing for bed. Surely, she'd left them there for me. So out of place beside the soap dispenser; inside out no less to reveal the saturated gusset. When we'd left the car, entering the house to go our separate ways I'd abandoned all hope we'd fuck, let alone kiss as lovers. That was for the movies and short stories on porn sites. No. We were a mother and son that'd come close to crossing the line, but reality had forbidden the transgression. If it was ever going to happen it would've been then. Beside the pool, or in the car. Not to be. Our relationship would and forever be, plutonic, familial. And if the best I could hope for was the admittedly perverted habit of sniffing my mother's unobtainable sex upon her panties for the rest of my days, then so be it. I could be satisfied with that, I thought as I stroked my cock to completion into the basin of the sink.