Welcome Home Soldier

The welcome home party was in its fifth hour and still going strong. Allen Crane, the guest of honor, a recently retired Army sergeant, had completed four deployments, two each in Afghanistan and Iraq. While no one knew what the future might hold, he was home and safe. His parents, elated at his safe return, invited a few close friends by to see the war hero.

Several of his high school friends and their wives were there. They were the ones who chose other career paths, or chose to raise families. They did not begrudge Allen his career choice. They admired him and envied his courage. They chose career paths that better suited their aptitudes.

After twelve years in the Army, he had indeed seen the world. He saw and experienced things few of his friends could imagine. Some were transcendental; others rivaled the horrors of hell. The horror of some of those experiences left him with insomnia and alcoholic dependency. His dependency caused him to sometimes experience alcoholic blackouts.

His Army buddies often teased him about things he did drunk with no memory of it the next morning. Many nights they went whoring while on leave. He lost count of the times he woke up in a dingy hotel with some slut with no memory of where she came from or what they did.

Allen watched his mother work the room, entertaining the guests. Stopping for a brief conversation with one couple, complimenting the wife of another on her dress, doing her job as the good hostess. As he watched, he reflected on how they both had the same issue with alcohol.

His father often complained about his wife's inappropriate behavior when she drank. He recalled arguments his parents had about her drinking. His father objected to her flirtatiousness when drinking. Janet defended her drinking, pointing out that she was merely enjoying herself. The acrimony in some of the arguments suggested his mother may have crossed a line while drinking. She was always a touchy-feely person. The gist of the overheard arguments was that the touching increased proportionally, approaching impropriety, as Janet drank.

As the night wore on, his friends tentatively began emulating his mother's hands on approach to conversation. A few of his friends drank enough to steal peeks down her plunging neckline. Others "accidently" brushed against her full mature behind.

Allen smiled as he watched his mother flirt and his father fume. The more things change, the more they stay the same, he thought. He recalled times as a teenager when they would stumble in the house after a party, dad fuming because his mother was too flirty.

Usually they made up with loud profanity laden sex. Many times, he jacked off to the squeals of his mother and the groans of his father as they had make up sex in the adjacent bedroom.

Other times they could not resolve their differences with sex. On those nights, his mom would storm out of their bedroom and get in bed with her son. As a teenager, Allen had the occasional cock hardening experience of waking up with his mother, drunk and passed out, in her panties and bra in his bed.

Once that experience went further than it should have. His parents got home later than usual that night. Allen was sleeping soundly, only vaguely aware of them coming home. He dozed back off to the vague familiar sounds of his parents arguing.

While he slept, he began having an incredibly vivid dream. In the dream, someone was sucking his cock. At that point in his young life, he had only limited experiences with blowjobs. The girls he dated were eager if inexperienced. However, even an inexperienced 18-year-old boy recognized an experienced cocksucker. Her mouth felt like a warm moist velvet tunnel. She applied just enough suction to apply pressure while her head bobbed and her tongue caressed the underside of his tool.

Just before he came in his dream, he reached his hand out and placed it on her head, pushing his man meat down her throat. He heard her gag then press down, taking him down her throat. Just as he was about to cum, just when the boiling in his balls became an indescribable pleasurable swelling in his cock, he opened his eyes to see his mother's sweaty face. He held a handful of her reddish hair clutched in his fist as his hips pumped frantically in her mouth.

"MOM! Stop!" His scream came too late. It heralded his youthful explosion.

He was never sure if he was frantically trying to push her head off his cock or, lost in the moment, gripping her tighter and forcing his cock deeper in her throat. He could hear her gulping and gurgling as she struggled to swallow the torrent of sperm he spewed in her mouth. He could see her heavily lidded eyes as she pulled back, struggling to catch her breath. He finished spewing his seed on her face.

Sated, but horrified, he watched his mother collapse on her back, her face covered in his thick white ejaculate. Her drunkenness was obvious as she made an uncoordinated attempt to wipe his cum from her face with the palm of her hands. She succeeded in smearing it over her face. His still rigid tool bobbed as he watched her leer at him while she smeared his cum on her breasts.

"John, the fuckin' bed won't stop spinning." She raised the upper half of her body on her elbows. Her large breasts drooped to her sides. She tried to focus, blinking her eyes, and moving her head back and forth.

Allen rose to his knees, his cock poking through his boxers, still gleaming with his mother's saliva. The moment was surreal. Her nightshirt, semitransparent from his seed, was around her waist, exposing her gleaming swollen butterfly wing pussy. The plum like color of her labia split by her inner pinkness.

He could only guess that in a drunken stupor, she stumbled into his room after arguing with his father. In her stupor, she sucked him off thinking it was his father. He knew he had to get her back to her room. He stood by the bed, leaned over intending to lift her to her feet and help her back to her room.

He was ashamed of himself. He could not stop staring at his mother's wet vaginal lips. In his mind, he struggled with dichotomy of horror at his mother sucking him off and the incredible feeling of her expert mouth on his cock.

He leaned forward, grabbed her shoulders, and attempted to lift her to her feet. Mumbling incoherently, she let him lift her, then fell to her knees. Her head fell forward into his crotch. He felt the sticky warmness of his cum on her face as she rested her cheek against his bare belly.

To this day, he was never sure what happened next. However, suddenly his cock was in his mother's mouth again, her arms encircled his waist and she was bobbing on his man meat. His shame, the thing that caused him to enlist in the army at 18, was that he had not tried to stop her this time.

He grasped her head and fucked her mouth. He thrust hard as her saliva drooled from her mouth and ran warmly down his balls. Her hands gripped his ass. He grasped one of her big jugs and squeezed hard.

She looked up into his face, leering. There was a perverse eroticism in seeing his mother's lips puckered around his tool. Squeezing her breasts was the realization of his masturbation fantasies. The object of his teenage lust was on her knees in front of him sucking his cock.

He wanted the experience to last, to mentally capture the moment for all time. However, the eroticism of the moment was more than he could stand. He came hard. He grasped his mother's head with both hands. Frantically, he fucked her mouth. He felt the head of his cock sliding down Janet's throat. She gagged and gurgled as he fired his seed into her mouth. It overflowed ran down her cheeks and chin, dripping onto her breasts.

Janet fell back on her back, Allen's seed dribbling from the corners of her mouth and running wetly down her cheeks. Her tongued snaked out, savoring her prize. Her hands found her pussy. Her legs were akimbo, feet flat on the floor knees pulled up and spread. She moved the index finger up and down her engorged vaginal lips. Even now, years later, he got aroused recalling her pleas to fuck her.

The scent of her arousal cloyed his nostrils causing his cock to throb with his need. He watched his mother slide a second then a third finger in her hole. Her sweaty full hips pumped hard against those fingers. Her eyes held his as she lay naked in his bed, his cum drooling out of the corners of her mouth pleading with him to fuck her.

"You motherfucker! Fuck me! Stick your dick in me and treat me like a $2 whore. You know how much I love that!"

"Mom, you're drunk again. This is not dad. Come on! Let me help you back to your bedroom."

Allen was confused. He just had the most intense sexual experience of his young life and it was with his mother. He wanted more. Like a snake charmed by a fakir's flute, he watched the froth build around her cunt. Perspiration covered her body as she pumped her mature hips hard against her fingers. The squelching sound of her wet pussy was loud and arousing. His nostrils twitched as they caught the scent of her need. Despite his disgust with himself and horror, he could not stop looking.

When she reached up, grabbed his hand, and pressed it between her legs, it was as though it were happening to someone else. That someone else watched his fingers replace his mother's in that forbidden place. He watched those fingers slide in and out of his mother's creamy hole. He could feel her pussy flexing and releasing around his fingers. When he looked up, her eyes were closed, her lips pulled back in a snarl, showing her teeth. She held her hands over his hand pumping her large hips hard.

"Gimmee some dick! Gawddamit, use my pussy!"

"Mom," he pleaded, unable to stop finger fucking his mother, "please! Don't make me do it."

He recalled the animal like growls issuing from her mouth, the sudden tightness on his finger as she came, oozing a whitish fluid. He nearly did fuck her. He was on his knees between her legs with his fingers buried in her spasming hole. His mom was pumping hard against his fingers, her full hips thrusting. She grasped her rigid nipples in each hand pulling them hard, gasping as waves of pain and pleasure washed over her body. With his free hand, he stroked his cock as he walked forward on his knees.

He took his fingers out of his mother's pussy. He rubbed the head of his cock up and down the molten heat of her gaping slit. His eyes were wide. His head hummed with anticipation. Allen moved forward on his knees. The pulsating lips of his mother's pussy just covered the head of cock.

"Come on, John! Fuck your bitch!"

It was her again calling him by his father's name that stopped him. It was like a cold bucket of water in his face. Even as Janet thrust up taking his cock head inside her, he pulled back.

He realized she thought she was in bed with his father. Even as his balls ached and his cock, wet with her juices, slipped from her hole, he knew he could not take advantage. Mortified, he pulled her to her feet. He wrapped his arms around her waist and escorted her back to her bedroom where his father lay passed out.

The following morning, Janet had no memory of sucking her son off. She was mom. A hungover mom, but mom. However, he knew. He looked at her differently. She was no longer just mom. She was the sexy full-figured woman who gave him an amazing blowjob. He continually fantasized about fucking her. Those thoughts consumed him. When all he could think of was what he would do the next time she stumbled drunkenly into his bed, he knew he had to leave.

A few weeks later he announced his enlistment. His career choice stunned his parents. However, after several days of trying to dissuade him, they accepted his decision.

Around 2 am, the party was over and the guests had left. His father clapped him on the back, told him he was proud of him and tottered off down the hall to bed, caroming from wall to wall like a billiard bouncing off the rails of a pool table.

His mother, trooper that she was, hung in trying to straighten up before going to bed. Janet was in the nether region of drunkenness. Each object she reached for took extra concentration. Occasionally. her careful attempts at coordination failed. When she tipped over a glass or dropped a plate with partially eaten food, she giggled drunkenly.

The room spun slowly for Allen. He balanced himself with one hand on the breakfast counter. He watched his mother bend and stoop as she cleaned the room. His cock twitched in his jeans as he watched the mini dress stretch across her behind. Unconsciously, driven by the copious amounts of alcohol he consumed, his hand dropped open palm to his crotch. He stroked his tool through his jeans.

Janet's eyelids were at half-mast. The world spun slowly around her. She stumbled, grabbed the nearest chair to balance herself.

Ultimately, she caromed into her son. She wrapped her arms around his neck, plastered her body to his, and kissed him on the lips. Allen wrapped his arms around her and cupped her ass. The room moved as he tried to focus on her.

"Great party mom!" His hands flexed rhythmically on his mother's butt.

"Mmmm, thank you, darling! Nothing is too good for my hero son." Janet thrust her hips forward. She slowly rotated her hips against Allen's crotch. The alcohol suppressed all inhibitions about the impropriety of what they were doing.

Janet looked up lovingly at her, tall, fit son. His caramel skin was burned a deep brown by foreign suns. He was so handsome, so sexy. Impulsively, she stood on her tiptoes, and bussed him again, pushing her tongue between his lips. As she did she ground her body against his. Her son returned her kiss, his tongue aggressively pushing hers back into her mouth. He rucked her dress up, exposing the silkiness of her panties to his rough exploring hands.

Mother and son ground against each other. Their breaths coming in hard sibilant gasps. Allen pushed his hands inside the elastic of her underwear. He pushed then partially down, roughly squeezing her warm moist ass. Janet felt shivers of arousal as she pushed her hand between them. She ran it over the bulge of her son's cock. She caressed it with her open hand.

To the inebriated couple, it seemed the most natural thing in the world. Their drunkenness lowered their inhibitions. The social constructs were on hold.

"Whew! Where did you learn to kiss like that?" One of Janet's hands was around his waist. The other continued to flex on his hard cock. Her lips were wet with his saliva. She leaned her upper body back to look up at him, her crotch still pressed into his.

"Join the Army. See the world. Learn how to kiss a beautiful woman," he slurred, his hands inside her panties, kneading her behind.

Allen fucked many women as he traveled the world. Somehow, at some point, he would recall his mother sucking his cock. He would remember her begging him to fuck her. It was the defining moment in his sexual development.

He stared down the deep vee of her dress at her mountainous cleavage. Her areola was partially visible.

"Hey! I'm your mother! You shouldn't be trying to see my tits."

"You had them on display for everyone at the party," he laughed. "This dress was the talk of the party."

"I call it my three-piece outfit, thigh highs, panties, and dress."

Janet wore a form fitting cowl neck mini dress designed to flatter the female form. Its deep V-neck plunged to just above her navel in front and to the curve of her ass cheeks in back. It exposed a substantial amount of her braless 38C cups as most of the young men at the party could attest.

She assayed a lopsided grin and poked her son in the chest with one finger. "Water dripping up the spout," she slurred, "let it all hang out!"

"You say that now. But dad will be pissed."

"He's always pissed about something. It's the story of my life and my marriage." She released her son's waist. He caught her by the shoulders as she staggered back.

"Well, do me a favor." Allen grinned devilishly as his mother staggered about the room, again picking up discarded plastic cups. forks and paper plates. She turned toward him, cocked her head to one side, put a hand on one hip, thrust it out saucily, swaying slightly and raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Have quieter make up sex than you used to," he said.

Janet giggled and staggered over to her son and wrapped her arms around his waist again. This time her hands were lower, resting on his tight muscular hips. Even drunk she enjoyed the feel of his body, hardened by years of combat training. "But that's half the fun," she giggled. "We tussle in the bed; your father rips my nightshirt off and takes me." She shivered as she thought of the feeling of helplessness as her husband drunkenly used her. It played into a fantasy of hers were she was helpless and several men fucked her.

"TMI, mom! That last thing I want to hear about is my parents sex life."

"Pooh," she said sticking her tongue out at Allen, "we're all adults."

"Lord, I need to get out of this dress!" She turned her back to him, bent forward slightly, stumbled, and recovered. "There's a clasp at the bottom of the vee. Undo it for me."

Allen blinked several times trying to get his eyes to focus. He placed one hand on his mother's bare back just above where the vee of the dress stopped on her upper ass cheeks. The other, he slipped inside her dress, pulled it out slightly and attempted to undo the clasp. After several failures, some where his hand ended up caressing her ass, he succeeded.

Janet turned, holding the bodice of her dress up with one hand. She wagged a finger at her son. "I said undo my clasp, not feel me up," she chuckled.

"Besides learning how to kiss a beautiful woman, I learned to appreciate a great ass. Mom, you have one of the all-time great asses. I couldn't resist."

"Tell your father that," Janet said, waving her hand in the general direction of her bedroom. "He says I'm getting fat."

Allen wrapped his arms around her waist and again rucked up her dress. The bodice of her dress fell to her waist. They stood in the middle of the floor, her bare breasts pressed to Allen's chest. They swayed slowly to an unheard rhythm as Allen kneaded his mother's butt.

He grasped her shoulders and pushed her back to arm's length. He turned her so she was facing the hall and slapped her on her behind. "Bed time, old lady!" He was dimly aware he had a chubby from touching her soft behind.

Janet stumbled forward, propelled by the blow. Her arms shot out to arrest her fall. Her dress dropped from her waist, slipped over her hips, and fell around her ankles, tripping her.

The strong arms of her son intervened, wrapping themselves around her waist, saving her from a nasty fall. Her momentum carried them both forward a few steps. In his successful effort to prevent them both from tumbling to the floor, Allen's hands slid up her torso, cupping her bare breasts.

Janet purred and playfully rotated her thong clad ass against her son's crotch. "I'm going to give you fifteen minutes to stop squeezing my tits, " She leaned her head back against his chest. Her body tingled as she felt his rigid pole in the crease of her ass. With her inhibitions lowered by drink, she rotated her ass against his thick tool.

Allen grasped her nipples in each hand and pulled hard, recalling her doing this years ago. "I need more time than that to explore these big suckers."

Janet hissed as the pain/pleasure of her son playing with her nipples sent thrills through her body. Her dry humping his cock increased. An alarm went off in her head. They were crossing a line. She shook her head to clear it and silence the alarm.

"You know, I breast fed you. That's probably why you have this fascination with my tits." Her hands came up and covered his, pressing them against her breasts. She continued rotating her ass against his tool.