Life goes on – Part 3
Tonight, I really wished the coach would put me in. This was the first game since my dad’s funeral a couple of weeks ago in which I got to plan, and also the first night Mom had gotten out, even though she sat in the bleachers, almost with a shield of solitude around her. The past two weeks had been hard. Sometimes, I found Mom still in bed when I came home. Other times, I found her in the living room, bawling her eyes out. And I’ve only been able to sleep in my own bed about half the time. I hoped seeing me play in the basketball game would cheer Mom up. But I got my five minutes at the start of the game and knew I would ride the bench the rest of the evening.
With only a few minutes left in the game, we were behind by several baskets. Some of the guys were perving the girls in the stands. The boy sitting beside me, Andre, dug his elbow into my ribs, “Dude, is that your mom up on the fifth row?”
I glanced behind me. Mom was still there. She was bored, only coming because I had begged her for a week. “Yeah. That’s her.”
“Damn, you’re freaking lucky. Your mom’s hot. I’d tap that!”
My vision narrowed, and I pushed him, making him fall over backwards, “Take that back, Andre. That’s my mom you’re talking about.”
Andre jumped up, pissed off and glaring at me, “Fuck you, Todd. I’m just saying–”
There was a whistle from one of the refs, and Coach Brown was in between us, “What the hell?”
I felt myself sinking into my own dark spot. I just knew Coach would take Andre’s side when the other boy said, “I was just talking and Todd hauled off and hit me.”
Still, I would not go down without defending my mom, “You were trash talking my mom.”
The ref said, “Clear these kids, Coach, or there’ll be a foul on your team for unsportsmanlike conduct.”
Coach Brown glanced up at the board where the score was visible for all to see, Home: 52 Visitors:60. He pointed to Andre, “Get your butt into the locker room. I don’t want to hear you sassing about anyone’s momma.”
Then, he took me by the arm, “Come on, Todd. Why don’t you go get your mom and head on home? Maybe next week we’ll win.”
His voice was soft and apologetic. Even so, it didn’t seem fair for both of us to be ejected. Not when Andre had said he’d tap that. I felt some shame when I went up into the stands and said, “You ready to go?”
She nodded and grabbed her purse. We were gone before the final buzzer sounded. We hadn’t gone far when Mom said, “What did you get kicked out for?”
I shook my head, “It was nothing. Andre was just talking smack.”
Mom sighed. I could nearly hear her emotions. “I’m your mom, Todd. You’re supposed to tell me these things.”
I didn’t want to open up another stream of tears and I could tell she was close. I said, “He was talking about you, stuff he wanted to do. You know how guys are. I hit him.”
There was an awkward silence until she said, “Your teammates think I’m hot?”
The heat in my face was nearly overwhelming. I nodded, “Yeah.”
There was a brittle laugh, “I guess I should feel flattered a bunch of twelve- and thirteen-year-olds still think I’m sexy. I just don’t feel like I am. I…”
Her voice choked for a moment and I could see tears pooling in her eyes. She continued, “I’m not taking care of myself and I’m letting myself go. It’s just so hard to put out the effort.”
I reached across the console and put my hand on her arm, “Don’t say that. You’re really pretty.”
She wiped away the tears in one eye, “You really think so? I don’t feel it.”
My thoughts went back to those half-dozen times over the past couple of weeks when I had cuddled with her. Even though my erections were immensely embarrassing those times I woke up with Mom’s backside molded against my groin, I knew the reason they happened was because I found Mom to be very sexy.
By now, she had pulled the car into our garage. I unbuckled myself and leaned over and gave her a quick peck on her cheek, “Yeah. I do.”
I hadn’t managed to keep her tears away. By the time she was climbing the stairs, Mom was crying again. I hated to see her crying like this, especially when I wasn’t certain why the tears flowed. I slid my hand into hers and walked with her up the stairs. I could’ve let go when I got to my room. But even though I didn’t understand why the tears were freely flowing, I knew she needed me.
When we got into her room, instead of letting go of my hand and going over to the bed. Mom turned and wrapped her arms around my neck and gave me a fierce hug. Her wet face nuzzled against my neck and her body was nearly rigid until I wrapped my arms around her back. Then she melted against me as she continued crying.
I couldn’t ignore her small breasts pressing against my basketball jersey. Now, though, I could feel her bra through the fabric of both our shirts. Andre’s words came back to me as I held Mom. She was sexy. When I felt my penis stir in my shorts, I shifted my hips as Mom continued hugging me, putting some space between our midsections.
When she eventually let go the hug, Mom’s arms were still around my neck. She looked up and gave me a tear-filled bittersweet smile. Then she leaned up and brushed her lips across mine. It was just a brief moment, and it was over. But she had never done that to me before, and it stunned me speechless.
She went over to the bed and when she sat down, through more tears, she said, “I’m sorry, Todd. I shouldn’t have done that.”
My lips tingled, and I wanted to make her feel better about herself. I said, “I didn’t mind, Mom.”
She patted the place where Jerry used to sleep and I crawled onto the bed. Through her tears, Mom said, “I know it’s not fair to you, but thank you for staying with me. I just feel so lost and when you hold me, I feel like I can actually make it another day.”
Still wearing the clothes she wore to my game, Mom rolled onto her side. I kicked off my shoes and socks and lied down beside her, still in my basketball uniform. Mom lifted her hand, and I draped my arm across her stomach while we both drew close to each other.
It’s not that waking up with a boner is a big deal, after all, I’m twelve and I get them all the time. But when my mom’s backside pressed against my groin and my penis touched her, even through all the clothes, it made me feel weird. But when I woke up very early the next morning, my hand was on her stomach and her T-shirt had ridden up during the night. Her skin was silky smooth, and that only made my boner strain more against my shorts. I felt a wave of guilt wash over me. I slipped away from her and headed to her bathroom, where it took forever for me to piss through my erection.
Once done, I glanced back at the closed door and wrapped my fingers around my erection. I spat on it, to lube it up a bit and was soon sliding my fist up and down my morning wood. I had woken up hornier than I could ever remember and it didn’t take long for those tingles to give way to fireworks exploding in my head and in my groin as my penis spasmed in my hand and I blasted out a few drops of my clear, watery cum.
I went back into Mom’s bedroom after cleaning up. Even though it was a Saturday morning, it was only a few minutes after five and if there was more sleep to be had, I wanted to find it. I hoped my penis would give me some relief now that I had relieved the pressure. The biggest reason rolling back into place next to Mom felt weird was because I couldn’t control my erections and feeling her butt through her clothes felt wrong. Like I was taking advantage of her. Still, once I snuggled against her and put my arm around her, I closed my eyes and fell asleep again.
When I woke up, light from the windows streamed through cracks in the curtain. The first thing I realized was my hand wasn’t stretched across Mom’s torso. The second was Mom had rolled over, facing me. Her eyes were open, and she said, “Good morning, sweetie.”
Her voice almost sounded normal, and not the strained, lost voice of a woman adrift in her pain. I felt a smile play at my lips, “Morning back at you.”
She said, “You looked so peaceful, lying there asleep. I didn’t want to disturb my beautiful angel.”
My cheeks felt aglow with heat at those words. “Guys aren’t supposed to be beautiful. I think it’s against the rules.”
Her lips curled at the edges, almost giving me a smile, “There’s an exception for moms, Todd. Moms are always allowed to think their sons are beautiful, even when they’re getting older, like you. I can’t believe you’ll be a teenager in a couple of months. I can close my eyes and remember just like it was yesterday bringing you home from the hospital.”
The heat in my cheeks was now in my ears and neck, “Jeez, Mom. I’m glad one of us remembers.”
That ghost of a smile disappeared. She reached out and ran a hand across my cheek, “So smooth. So unlike Jerry.”
The tears filled her eyes, “Oh, shit! I can’t stop.”
Instinctively, my arms snaked around her back, and I pulled her into a hug. As she sobbed, her arms went around me and she hugged me back. Even though I missed Jerry more than I could comprehend, Mom’s grief was on a magnitude different from mine and all I could do was be there for her. And it wasn’t easy with her breasts pushed against my chest. Growing up, I had never given them much thought, even if I had become more aware of them over the past year. But now, holding her, I realized how petite and childlike she was. Most of the girls in the seventh grade were taller than her five feet (152 cm). And a lot of them were bigger in the chest, too. Feeling her through her bra, her breasts might have been the size of a baseball, maybe. It was hard to tell through her bra’s padding.
Speaking of hard, even though I had just rubbed one out, I was trying to keep myself from getting hard. Mom’s body pressed against mine in this hug of ours, and the signals my body was receiving made it a challenge to stay soft. I started thinking about basketball practice and making shots from the three-point line, anything to avoid thinking about my body.
The sobs lessened and Mom whispered, “Thank you so much, Todd. You’re my savior.”
Then, she pulled her head from my shoulders, and our noses were nearly touching as she added, “I love you, baby.” Then she stunned me by kissing me. This wasn’t like the quick peck from a couple of weeks ago. Her lips touched mine, and she kissed me full on. My heart thundered in my chest and when she didn’t pull back after the third heartbeat, I responded by returning the kiss.
I had only kissed a girl once before. And that had been at my friend Bobby’s birthday back in the sixth grade. We played spin the bottle, and I had to kiss Alison Moony. This kiss felt nothing like that one. All thoughts of shooting hoops scattered on the wind of my imagination. All I could think about was Mom’s lips on mine and her breasts pressed against my chest. My body responded, and I felt my erection poking against my shorts.
When the kiss ended, Mom’s tear-stained face seemed to search mine, as though seeking something. When she finally spoke, she said, “I-, I shouldn’t have done that, Todd. I’m sorry. I just needed it so bad.”
Confusion wracked me. On one hand, my mom was the sexiest woman I knew. She was far better looking than most of the moms of the other kids in my grade. But on the other hand, she was my freaking mom. There were kisses a boy could share with his mom and kisses he shouldn’t. And this was the latter.
And my body clearly liked the kiss. A lot. Despite the tornado of confusion tearing through my mind, at a deeper level, I liked it, even if my response had been an awkward kiss. I reverted back to the answer I gave her that first time she brushed her lips over mine. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.”
And at some primal level, I didn’t, even though I was hopelessly over my head.
When she let go of me and I rolled onto my back, I instantly realized my mistake. My erect penis made a tent out of my basketball shorts. I was about to get up when Mom gasped, her eyes zeroed in on my groin. I shot out of bed, mumbling, “Shoot, I-, I’m sorry, Mom.”
Mom’s face was already red from crying. But I’m sure she felt embarrassed for me. She sat up and pursed her lips. “It’s okay, sweetie. It’s just a normal part of being a young man.”
She gathered a change of clothes and disappeared into the bathroom, saying nothing else. I went back to my bedroom where I changed and fired up my PS5. Before Jerry’s death, I would have closed the door, valuing my privacy. But I left it open now. I’ve been doing that since his passing so Mom would know I was close-by. And especially now, I wanted her to know I wasn’t upset over the whole embarrassing situation. And playing on my PlayStation, I could lock away the tumult of my emotions.
I can lose myself in my games; I was sneaking up on another player when I realized I wasn’t alone. After sniping the other player’s avatar in the head, I glanced behind me. Mom was leaning against the door. Her hair, now pulled back in a ponytail, had a fresh-scrubbed look. She wore one of Jerry’s over-sized T-shirts, which came down to her thighs, and a pair of her yoga shorts. It was the most relaxed I have seen her since my dad’s funeral.
When I turned back to the game, I was dead. I spun around on my butt, “Wow, you look like you’re feeling better.”
Mom’s smile was hollow, “Maybe I’m getting there. I know it’s one day at a time. But, God, it’s difficult as hell.”
I smiled at the profanity, because it was sounded so much like Jerry and not at all like her; unless she’s driving. After two weeks, for me, the pain wasn’t as sharp as in the days right after Jerry’s death. But I knew what she was talking about. I was taking each day, one at a time too.
She said, “I got those tamales out of the freezer. They’re thawing. You want to try some of them? I have some salsa in the fridge. I bet they’d taste good.”
I turned off the console and got to my feet. Mom stared at me, “When did you get so tall?”
I thought about how my body was at odds with itself. Parts of me growing faster than most of the kids at school, while other parts were lagging. I shrugged, “Dunno. But I’m pretty sure, I didn’t get my height from you.”
A genuine grin creased her features, “No. You certainly didn’t. You look like…”
The smile faded along with her voice. I found myself leaning forward. Mom never talked about my biological father, and yet—she almost had. She shook her head. “How about those tamales?”
We sat at the bar after warming the tamales. I had found a half-eaten bag of tostada chips in the fridge and we made a meal out of the tamales and chips. Last Saturday had been hard on both of us. Mom had spent most of the day in her room, tearing up at the least thing. I didn’t want that for today. The only time Mom had ventured out of the house was the time she went to my basketball game. I’d been taking the bus to and from school since returning to class.
I took our paper plates and threw them in the trash, “We should go out this evening. Do something.”
Mom wiped her mouth, getting rid of some sour cream in the corner of her mouth, “What do you have in mind, sweetie?”
I thought about seeing if she would take me bowling. I sucked at it. But it was something she and Jerry liked to do. Of course, there was an entertainment complex where they had laser-tag games. But somehow, I didn’t think she would enjoy that at all. And if I got Mom to go out, I really wanted it to be something she would enjoy.
There was new Cheesecake Factory at a shopping center a few miles from our house. If Mom had an Achilles’ heel when it came to her figure, it was cheesecake. Of course, until Jerry died, she attended yoga classes three times a week. Her figure was, even to my untrained and biased eyes, nearly perfect.
When I mentioned it to her, I saw a spark in her eyes before she said, “I don’t know, Todd. Maybe later.”
Mentally, I grabbed hold of that spark, “Come on, Mom. It’ll be fun. We can try out your favorite cheesecake.”
I could see her wavering. I added, “Please. For me.”
Even as her shoulders slumped at the prospect of going out in public, she nodded, “Alright. Just for you.”
The rest of the day passed by uneventfully. Mom seemed to hold things together. When it was time to get dressed, I made sure to put on a nice pair of slacks and a blue button-down shirt. I even buffed my dress shoes. I wanted our little date to be special for her.
Mom’s door was open, and I went over to it. She was sitting at her vanity, her hair in curls. She wore a t-shirt and panties while she put on some makeup. Seeing her in so little, I thought it best to back away when she spied me through the mirror. “Wow, Todd. You look handsome. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were taking me on a date.”
My face turned red as I dug the toe of my shoe into the carpet, “I guess it kind of is, if you think about it. You deserve to get out someplace and have fun.”
She finished applying a touch of eyeliner as she looked at me through the mirror. “I’m so lucky to have you, sweetie.” There was a hitch in her voice, “I-, I don’t know what I would do without you.”
Then she swiveled around, “How’s this look?”
Mom wasn’t someone to wear a ton of makeup. And this evening was no exception. She had a little mascara and lipstick and perhaps some base and rouge, but not enough to really stand out. Not that she needed it. For a moment, my eyes drifted to her chest. I don’t think she had a bra on right then, because I could see indentions in the t-shirt where her nipples were. Her legs were closed, so I couldn’t see much of per panties.
But when my eyes returned to hers, I said, “You look really pretty. I might have to carry a bat with me to keep other guys from hitting on you.”
Her eyes looked at the floor as a natural blush overcame the rouge on her cheeks, “You’re just being kind.”
I came into her room and sat on the end of the bed. I wondered why she didn’t see just how sexy she looked. I shook my head, “No, seriously. You look really, ah, sexy.”
A bashful smile appeared on her face, “Thank you, sweetie. This is your date, so why don’t you pick out one of my dresses in the closet?”
I nodded, doing my best to keep my eyes from looking at her, and hurried into the walk-in closet. On one side were Jerry’s clothes. On the other were Mom’s. She had more than him. I looked over her dresses. A couple were long and flowing. Others were shorter. And even though April had only just begun, the weather outside was pleasant. I picked up a black dress. It was one I had seen Mom wear on a couple of dates with Jerry. I held it up and knew right away, this was the dress I wanted her to wear.
When I came back in and gave it to her, she took it and said, “Good choice, sweetie. Jerry got this for me for my birthday a couple of years ago. It’s one of my favorites.”
She unzipped the back, “It even has its own padded bra.”
I waited in my room while she changed. After a couple of minutes, Mom’s voice came down the hall, “Todd, can you help?”
When I came in, she was in the dress and I had been right. She looked hot in it. She spun around, “Can you zip me up, please?”
My fingers trembled as I saw her naked back. There was a sensuality to seeing her naked back that until now I hadn’t felt when cuddled up against her. But I took a couple of deep breaths and pulled the zipper up. “There you go.”
Dinner went well enough. While it didn’t quite live up to my fantasy, I could see Mom really tried to enjoy herself. She even had a glass of wine with her meal, and we finished up dinner by splitting one of their fabulous cheesecakes.
It was after we paid and were walking back toward the car, she slipped her hand into mine. My hand was sweaty that I hardly noticed how damp hers was too. When we got back to the car, she grabbed me around the neck and pulled me into a hug, “Thank you, sweetie. It’s so hard getting out again, but it’s a small enough price to pay to be with you.”
When she loosened her arms, her lips brushed against my checks until they touched my lips. She made a faint noise as she pressed her mouth against mine. Even though the confusion returned in my mind, my body responded right away and I kissed her back, wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her against me.
There was a buzzing in my ear when I broke the kiss. Mom looked embarrassed as we both looked around. Funny, there were a few people walking to and from the restaurant. And not a single one of them paid us any mind. My lips tingled from the prolonged kiss, and I wanted to taste Mom’s lips again. My mind was still in turmoil. I knew nobody would approve of my feelings right then. Yet it didn’t change how I felt.
I opened the driver’s side door for Mom and then hurried around to my side. When I climbed in, I saw the doubt in her eyes. She glanced my way as her hands gripped the steering wheel, “I shouldn’t have done that. God, I’m so fucked up right now, kissing my own son.”
I reached out and put a hand on her bare arm, “It’s okay. It’s no big deal. I didn’t mind.”
She sniffled, “What would your dad say? I’m horrible.”
Somehow or another, I figured if Jerry could see us, he would want me to be there for my mom. And if anyone would understand her emotions and needs, it would be my step-dad. I gently squeezed her arm, “Dad would want me to be here for you. And that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
A tear rolled down her cheek, black against her pale skin from the eyeliner. She was trying so hard to not break down bawling. “B-, but I shouldn’t have.”
I didn’t want to see her cry and even if I wasn’t absolutely certain Jerry would want me to do it, I leaned over the console and took her face in my hand and turned it toward me. Mom’s eyes pooled with tears and there was shame on her face. I whispered, “I told you, I didn’t mind.”
Then I leaned in and kissed her. Her lips tasted of cheesecake and salty tears. I stayed there with my lips awkwardly pressed against hers, trying to replicate the way her lips had formed against mine earlier. I wasn’t sure how long I kept my lips pressed against hers before she molded her lips into a kiss and responded.
When I finally pulled back, I said, “I told you I didn’t mind. It’s okay.”
Mom bit back a sob as her lips tried curling into a glimmer of a smile and she pulled out and drove us home. Neither of us said much. I was still wrapping my mind around the fact I had just kissed my mom, and not the other way around. I chanced glances at her. Whether it was so much of her leg showing below the short hem of her dress or the delightful contour of her chest, or even the way her curls lay on her shoulders; Mom really was incredibly sexy.
Fortunately, it was dark in the car and my dress pants were bunched up around my crotch, enough so that she wouldn’t have been able to see the tent my penis made. And now that I had been the one to kiss her, my barely adolescent mind wondered what else might happen.
When we got home, and Mom parked the car in the garage, I hurried over to her side and opened the door. This had, after all, been a date and what kind of guy would I be if I failed to open the door? It was barely nine o’clock when we came into the house. My own emotions were in turmoil. Part of me wanted more of those kisses. The rest of me feared what might happen next. However, the date had been my idea and when we came into the living room, I slid my hand into Mom’s and said, “How did I do for a first date?”
Mom squeezed my hand, “You were awesome, sweetie. You really looked out after me. I-, I needed it.”
I took hold of her other hand and stood toe to toe with her, “That’s cool. Can I, um, can I take you out again?”
Mom’s eyes widened in surprise, “You really want to take your old mom out on dates, sweetie?”
My head was abuzz, and I was hard-pressed to keep my thoughts coherent, “Um, yeah. I would like that.”
Mom stepped into me, resting her head on my shoulder, “I think Jerry would like that you’re here for me. I love you so much, baby.”
I could feel another emotional response coming from her. I stroked her back, “I love you too.”
When Mom lifted her head from my shoulder, it looked like she was in control of her emotions again. I wasn’t sure what to do or say. But before I could decide, my head tilted and leaned down until my lips found hers. This wasn’t like the hyper-charged kiss she had given me outside the car, or my urgent attempt to show her I didn’t mind her kiss in the car. My lips touched hers and she responded by kissing me back. For me, this was a kiss that said, I love you and I’m there for you always. Maybe I’m assuming, but I felt as though she was saying she needed me.
When the kiss ended, her sigh wasn’t one of sadness. When she broke the silence, she said, “It’s getting late, sweetie.”
She didn’t let go of my hand. Instead, she led me up the stairs and past my room. When we got into her bedroom, she sat on the bed and stretched out her legs, “Would you mind taking my shoes off?”
I knelt down and slid her heels off. In doing so, my fingers slid across her feet and ankles. They were so soft, so smooth. My eyes roamed her legs, and I even found them stealing a glance at the darkness between her legs before I stood up. I said, “If you want, I can come back in here after I change.”
Mom took my hand before I could go, “Don’t go. Not yet.”
Confused about this, I stood still, uncertain what she wanted. She was processing stuff, I could tell, wanting to say more, but not sure what to say. After a moment, she said, “I can’t reach the zipper on this dress. Can you please help?”
She rose and offered her back. That shaking in my fingers returned as I grabbed the zipper. Seeing her back appear as I unzipped the dress, my heart fluttered. I knew it was wrong to think it, but Mom’s back was incredibly sexy.
When I lowered the zipper all the way to the lower back, Mom tugged on her hips, dragging the dress down. I froze in shock when gravity took over and the dress fell to her feet. She wore only her panties.
I gulped. What now? All I managed was a confused, “Um.”
Then Mom turned around. She was within an arm’s length of me. There was no t-shirt, no blouse, no bra hiding her anymore. Her breasts, small and tight, rode high on her chest. They were slightly smaller than the baseball size I had first envisioned, and they were perfectly formed, at least to my inexperienced eyes. Her areolas were nearly as pale as the rest of her skin, and no bigger round than one of those gold dollar coins Jerry used to collect for me. Her nipples were perfectly centered in the middle of her areolas, no bigger than an eraser on the end of a number 2 pencil.
“Thanks for helping me with the dress, sweetie. Unless you’d rather me put on a shirt, I thought…”
Her voice died away, her intent unclear. I wanted to touch her boobs, and I also wanted to run and hide in my room. For the first time in my life, I was staring at tits. And not just any tits. My mom’s beautiful, perfect tits. My voice was dry as I stammered, “Um, I guess it’s okay.”
Mom went around to her side of the bed and slid under the covers, hiding her treasures. I was stuck. I didn’t know what to do or say. My plan to go into my room while mom changed was gone. I must have stood there for a minute or longer before Mom said, “I don’t want to sleep alone, sweety.”
I swallowed and thought about her boobs. I nodded, “Okay. I’ll get changed.”
Before I could take a step, she said, “Don’t go, babe. You…
Her voice was stuck as her eyes studied my face, as though searching for something. “Stay.”
Not sure why, I shucked my dress shoes and socks and climbed onto the side I’ve been on over the past couple of weeks. When I reached the pillows at the head of the bed, Mom’s hand reached out and caressed my chest. “Thank you, my love.”
Even though my nerves were a wreck, I smiled at her, “No problem.”
As her hand caressed my shirt, she worked the top button loose and then worked each successive button loose until her hand rubbed my bare chest, “That’s nice, sweetie. I noticed a couple of weeks ago, you have a very nice chest.”
I glanced down at my torso. It hadn’t seen the sunlight since last summer, and I was almost as pale as Mom. My shoulders are barely any wider than my hips, unlike some boys on my basketball team. To me, my chest was the same little-boy chest I’ve always had. “Really?”
Mom slid the shirt off my shoulders as she nodded, “Yes. You look so much like your father when he was your age.”
I was stunned. “Jerry?”
She shook her head as she rubbed my tiny, boyish nipples, “No. Your real dad.”
In those two brief sentences, she had told me more about my biological father than she had in the previous twelve years.
The shirt was bunching on my elbows, so I slipped it off the rest of the way as Mom continued her attention to my chest. Despite the distraction, I asked, “What was he like? What happened to him?”
Mom leaned against me, resting her head against my shoulder and neck, “He was so sweet. Over the past couple of weeks, it’s almost like having Terry back in my life.”
I was shocked to hear her say as much, especially after a lifetime of silence. “Terry?”
She nodded, her fingers caressing my stomach, “Yeah. That was his name. You look so much like him; I think I blocked all that out after he moved away and I met Jerry.”
I nearly focus on what she was saying when Mom’s fingers touched my belt. I tried to ignore the feeling of her fingers tracing my belt buckle, “Does he know about me?”
A familiar sadness passed over Mom’s face, “No, sweety. He moved away right after I discovered I was pregnant with you. I thought about reaching out. But we were just kids. I was fourteen, and he was thirteen. I didn’t want to upend his life, when there wasn’t anything he could have done.”
Mom’s fingers had worked the end of the belt loose and were now working at getting the belt’s metal tongue loose from the black leather. I had no idea the man who got my mom pregnant was actually a boy only a year older than me now.
Mom freed the metal tongue and my belt was loose around my waist. I stammered, “Am I really like him?”
Mom’s fingers worked at the button at the top of my fly, “So much, it’s uncanny. Sometimes, it’s just your mannerisms, other times, it’s the way you do something, and tonight, it was how you kissed me. You took me back to a better time.”
The button came loose. My penis twitched as Mom tugged on the zipper, pulling it down. I had nothing else to say. I lifted my hips and tugged my dress pants down. I wondered what Mom thought when I pushed my hips out, because my erection made a tent impossible to miss in my boxer briefs.
After I tossed my pants onto the floor, I pulled the covers up and turned toward Mom. “I want to know more about him. My real dad.”
She was on her side, facing me. She pulled the covers up just far enough to hide her breasts. “You look so much like him, even when, um, you pulled your pants down.”
I flushed at the inference as Mom continued, “Terry and I met in middle school. He was a grade behind me. We dated throughout my seventh and eighth year and through part of my ninth-grade year, until his dad got a job that forced him to move all the way across the country.”
I could do the math. That meant my real dad started dating Mom when he was actually younger than me. “Holy crap, I’m older than he was when you and he started dating. Wow.”
I knew the smile was genuine. It even lit up Mom’s eyes, “Those kisses are what did the trick, sweetie. The first time you actually kissed me, I was a kid again, and you were Terry kissing me.”
You’d think it would bother me, being compared to another boy, even one who happened to be my real father. But my face felt warm, and the heat radiated throughout me, even making me harder, if that were possible. Everything made sense. It wasn’t just some dirty thing where my mom was trying to seduce me. I was a manifestation of her first love.
“Cool,” I said.
She leaned into me and gave me a kiss, “You may remind me so much of your dad, but it’s you whom I love, Todd.”
It was a brief kiss, not lasting even three heartbeats. But something told me that wouldn’t be the last, not by a long shot. She rolled over, facing away from me. With everything she had told me, everything I was still processing, I stayed in place until she said, “Cuddle with me, babe.”
I moved over until my chest touched her naked back. I slid my arm across her hip and rested it on her stomach. I tried to keep my crotch from touching her backside as I closed my eyes and tried to sleep.
My hand was on something soft and warm when my eyes fluttered open. Despite the deep darkness of Mom’s room, I could dimly see the pale skin of her back. That’s when I realized my hand was lightly massaging her right boob. I felt the hardness of her nipple against my fingers. Next, I became aware of something rubbing against my penis. It only took another second to realize my groin and Mom’s backside were pressing into each other.
I nearly pulled my hand from Mom’s boob, and then thought that if she was asleep, doing so might wake her up. But I wasn’t sure if she was asleep, despite the deep breathing I heard. My penis was wedged between her butt cheeks, and her hips were moving just enough to cause some serious tingling in my erection.
Now that I was awake and my penis was throbbing, my fingers, almost on their own, resumed massaging Mom’s soft, warm tissue. My hips rocked, pushing my trapped penis against Mom’s panty-clad ass even as her body pushed against me. I had never imagined my penis could feel as good as it was, especially without using my hand. Yet that tingling only grew larger inside me as I felt my little balls constrict and my penis spasmed, coating the inside of my underwear with drops of my watery semen.
As I came, I moaned, “Mom! Ahh!”
Perhaps she was a sleep. Her deep breathing never altered, even as I spasmed a half-dozen times. My underwear felt slimy and before long cold. Still, if Mom slept through it, I really didn’t want to make a deal out of creaming in my pants. What would she think?!
Having experienced one of my most powerful orgasms to date, it wasn’t long before I fell back asleep.
“Um, sweetie, you awake?”
I blinked my eyes open as Mom repeated, “Baby, are you awake?”
I hadn’t moved since falling back asleep. My hand was still on Mom’s boob and my penis was still pushed against her butt crack. Worse, at some point, my erection had returned and there was no way for her to not feel me against her backside.
Still, that was nothing compared to what had happened during the night, and that wasn’t something I wanted to admit to. I yawned before saying, “Yeah, Mom?”
She placed her hand on mine, “Having fun with my boob?”
I let go, “Sorry. I guess that happened when we were asleep.”
She squeezed my hand a bit, “How do you like it?”
Taking that as permission, I put my hand back on her, “It’s so soft and warm. I really like how they feel.”
Mom purred, “It feels nice when you touch it.”
Then she wiggled her butt, “Oh, shit. What’s that?”
Her hips moved, and I felt her backside move off of my crotch. She said, “Was that what I think it was?”
She couldn’t see the flush on my face as I spooned her. I stammered, “Y-, yeah. S-, sorry.”
Mom giggled, “Holy shit. I can’t believe my butt was against your, um, penis.”
When I was younger, and learning about bodies, Mom had always insisted I use the right language. It was oddly gratifying she practiced what she preached.
Some of my own inhibition had died last night, when I had let Mom’s sleeping body stimulate me to orgasm. I gently squeezed her boob, “I don’t mind. Do you?”
Mom’s hand rested on mine as she relaxed. And as she relaxed, her backside eased back against my groin and my underwear-covered erection poked against her again. As we adjusted to this new awareness of each other’s bodies, I slid my other hand under her torso and against Mom’s upper belly, not stopping until I bumped against her gentle swells.
There was never a point in my life where I haven’t loved my mom. But as I held her, big spoon to her small, I caught a glimmer of something more. I rested my head against her shoulder, “Mom, did you love my real dad?”
She wiggled a bit, sending electrical tingles through my penis. “Oh, God, yes. I loved Terry so much.”
“As much as Jerry?”
She put both her hands over mine, “I hadn’t thought about them like that, sweetie. I met your dad when I was thirteen. I met Jerry just before turning eighteen. Jerry saved me, saved us, and I can’t imagine ever not loving him. But Terry was so sweet and innocent, and our love was the same way.”
It wasn’t exactly the answer I was looking for, but it made sense. We fell into silence; eventually my second hand found Mom’s other boob, and I found a lot of pleasure in massaging both. Every now and then, she or I would shift our hips, sending a tingling thrill from my penis up my spine.
After a bit, she shifted, pulling away for a moment as she rolled onto her back. With the covers pulled halfway down, her breasts looked gorgeous. She shifted again until we were facing each other and she snaked her arms around my neck. Before kissing me, she murmured, “I love you, Todd.”
Her lips played across mine, sending a shiver throughout my mouth. I’m sure my mind was still completely confused and unsettled by everything happening. But I compartmentalized it and, in that moment, I just wanted more. I slid my arms around her waist and pulled our bodies together. Her perky boobs pushed against my chest. I was nearly five inches taller, and my hardon pushed against my underwear where it pressed just below her pubic mound. She didn’t pull back, and I wasn’t about to.
Instead, her lips parted and another shock lit up my face when her tongue pushed into my mouth. I’ve seen a couple of kids in school Frenching and have watched it online. Even so, Mom took my breath away as her tongue snaked along mine, touching and twisting against my tongue. She squeezed my neck, as though trying to pull me to her, and I pulled us even closer and shoved my hips forward and I felt my underwear-covered erection push down, sliding against the underside of her panties.
“Ahhh!” Mom cried in my mouth.
Worried, I pulled my head back, “Sorry! Are you okay?”
Her head bobbed, “Oh, fuck! Yes, sweetie. That felt good.”
My only experience with any woman, aside from that silly spin the bottle game, came from watching online porn. And not that much of it. Still, I knew women also get their own orgasm, and I wondered if Mom had felt that.
I let her invade my mouth again. This time, I slowly pushed my hips forward. And again, Mom moaned in my mouth. I was mesmerized, pushing forward a few more times, that I had the power to give her such intense pleasure.
After leaving my mouth chapped, Mom rested her head against my shoulder, unwilling to let go. I wasn’t one to complain. I pushed my hips forward a few more times. Each time elicited a moan or shudder. Eventually, she let go of my neck and leaned back enough that she could look down and see our underwear pressed against one another.
My erection wasn’t visible. It was pushed down, pressing against the bottom of Mom’s panties. She said, “Are you okay, sweetie?”
I had thought I was horny last night. But that was nothing compared to now. I had never been more sexually charged than I was right then. “Fuck, yeah!”
I wasn’t sure how Mom would handle the profanity, but her lips found mine and she kissed me, pushing her tongue as deep into my mouth as it would fit. It didn’t last long, after all, I think she was telling me it was okay to swear, at least when we were like this.
When she pulled back again, she said, “Cool. Can I, um, can I see it?”
I have been taking my own showers since I was seven. And before that, my own baths for at least a year before. Mom hasn’t seen me naked in at least six years. I guess a younger boy, whose body isn’t ready for puberty might have flinched, wondering why his mom would ask that of him. Not me. My smoking hot Mom wanted to look at my dick and I wasn’t going to say no.
I pulled back far enough that we could see between our underwear. “Yeah. Sure.”
Mom reached a hand down between us and took hold of my underwear and pulled the front down far enough that my erection popped free and slapped my abs. “Ooh, That’s beautiful!”
I blushed at her praise. Even though I had shot my load in my underwear last night, it was only a few drops and my penis didn’t have any signs of last night’s little accident.
Mom pushed me onto my back and my penis pointed toward my chin. She sighed, “Oh my God, Todd. You look so much like your dad; you could be twins.”
I enjoyed knowing I looked like someone she loved passionately. Emboldened by her behavior, I said, “When was the first time you and my dad, you know, um, did it?”
Mom’s hand rested on my stomach. Her face colored, “I guess I was twelve. He was, um, well, he a year younger.”
I marveled at that. Mom had lost her virginity to my real dad when she was the same age as I am now. Mentally, those places in my mind where I felt conflicted, thinking this was wrong, I locked those doors and threw away the key. If Mom and my real dad had fucked each other when they were my age, I knew right then, I wanted the same thing. I said, “You can touch it, if you want.”
Her hand slid down my smooth pubic area; her fingers glided over my erection, which tingled with a pleasurable intensity. A moan escaped my mouth as a finger traced one of the tiny veins running along my thin, smooth shaft.
“It’s every bit as beautiful as Terry’s,” Mom said as her fingers encircled the base of my penis. She gently fondled me. There was no urgency. No, it was as though she had just found something she had lost many years ago and was enjoying finding it again. My arm reached out and cupped her boob. As I tweaked her nipple, she said, “Toward the end, he loved playing with my tits. God, his hands felt amazing.”
I squeezed her nipple until Mom let a little moan escape. “He didn’t like them before?”
She chuckled as she pulled on my penis, “When we started dating, I didn’t have even these little things, babe. I was thirteen before I had to wear even a training bra.”
After a bit, Mom let go of my erection. I felt fantastic. I knew it wouldn’t take long to send me over the edge. But she just wanted to enjoy our time together. And she was in the best mood I’d seen her since Jerry died.
She lay beside me, our hips touching, “God, I feel so liberated. I know it’s fucking crazy, babe. But being with you like this, it’s like I’m a kid again and I get to fall for my first love all over again.”
Hearing her tell me how much she loved me made my heart thump even faster. I sat up and leaned over her. “I love you too, Mom.”
I showed her I had learned from her as our lips met and I slipped my tongue through, touching her teeth and tongue. As my tongue explored her mouth, I put my hand on her boob, squeezing it gently and playing with her nipple. When I broke the kiss, I moved down to her breasts. I’d only seen one video of a guy sucking on a woman’s tits, but I had a good idea and I leaned over until my tongue touched her hard, rubbery nipple.
Mom moaned in pleasure as my tongue flicked over her tit. I opened my mouth and put my lips just outside of her areolas and sucked, while my tongue continued teasing her nipple. Eventually, I shifted to her other tit with my mouth and slowly slid my hand down her chest, rubbing her belly until my middle finger touched the lacy hem of her panties.
I pulled my mouth off her tit and smiled at Mom. She smiled back at me, as though everything was right in her world. I asked, “Am I doing okay?”
She nodded. I took this as permission and slid my finger under the lacey fabric. I found her pubic mound as I pushed my hand down and got the surprise of my young life. She was bare. My face must have given me away.
Mom giggled at me, “I um, I never had a lot of body hair. And, well, Jerry really liked me smooth, so he paid to have electrolysis done.”
I’d never heard that word before, “Electrowhatis?”
Mom pulled at her panties, giving me a better view, “Electrolysis. It’s where they permanently remove the hair.”
I was stunned. I could see her slit. Until I saw that bit of treasure, if you had told me there was something even sexier than a girl’s tits, I’d have called you crazy. But not now. Mom’s slit drew me like a lodestone. I touched it and felt her tremble beneath me.
I pulled back, “You okay? I can stop.”
She nodded as she slid her panties off her feet. “Yeah, babe. I’m better than okay.”
She spread her legs, giving me a view of what was hidden within that slit in her skin. Her slit really looked like puffy lips and when I saw within, there was a bit of a fleshy hood. Mom pointed there, “That’s my clitoris, sweety. Do you want to touch it?”
Did I want to touch it? Was the Pope Catholic? Hell yes. I nodded as my finger found a little bit of flesh poking out. “Like this?”
She bit her lower lip as she nodded. “Yeah, sweety. God, you are so much like your dad, it’s uncanny.”
I don’t know why I like it when she compares me to my real dad, but I loved hearing those words. I didn’t really know what I was doing with the bit of skin she called her clitoris, but after a few tries of touching it, she took my finger in her hand and showed me how to touch her. When she pulled back and left me to try again, she rewarded me with a high-pitched “Oh!”
I glanced at Mom and the look on her face left no doubt she was enjoying my finger. After another “Oh!” I pulled my finger back, “Mom, I had no idea you were so fucking hot. I mean, you’re incredible.”
Mom grinned at my profanity, not bothering to correct it. She rolled onto her side, facing away from me, “You want to cuddle for a bit, before lunch? I’m, uh, needing a bit of a catnap.”
The covers were down below our feet. I could see all of Mom’s back. Her naked butt was almost as sexy as her front. I wasn’t sure I bought her story about wanting a catnap. After all, if I was going to cuddle with her, that would put my erection poking against her butt, and I didn’t see how she could possibly sleep with me poking her ass.
Still, I happily rolled over and spooned her. My arm slipped around her body, cupping one of her boobs, while my penis poked against her butt. Mom wiggled her hips and said, “You’ll be more comfortable if you slide your penis between my legs, babe.”
I reached between us and pushed my penis down. I felt my glans touch the top of the crack between her cheeks and pushed down more, letting it slide down between her cheeks. I was about halfway down to where I thought she meant when Mom said, “That’s good babe. Push forward.”
When I pushed forward, I felt her butt cheeks against the top of my erection. It felt so much better without clothes. Then I moaned out loud when she wiggled her hips and pushed back against me. My penis slid forward, and I felt it drag across something hot and moist. I had touched her pussy with my dick!
I didn’t need to say anything. After all, I was doing what Mom wanted. She wiggled around a bit more and what little doubt that had existed about her wanting a catnap evaporated in my longing. I slid my other hand onto her other boob as I moved my hips, sliding my erection against the bottom of her pussy and butt. I hadn’t pushed my hips forward many times before my penis started sliding a lot easier as I felt it growing slick with something.
“Um, is it supposed to get wet?” I murmured.
Mom wiggled her butt and giggled, “Yeah, babe. That’s normal. You okay?”
The tingling was growing, and I wasn’t far from my point of no return. I said, “Yeah. I think I’m close, though.”
I wasn’t sure what Mom would want to do about that. Pull away? Let me finish on my own? She pushed back against me again and again, making me slide even faster. I squeezed my eyes shut as I pushed forward. My feelings exploded in my brain and in my penis as I spasmed against Mom’s butt. I felt my penis squirt my watery cum as it spasmed, once, twice, and three times. The rest of my spasms were dry, but I didn’t care. That cum had been the best yet. My brain was buzzing. Every time we did something new together, things were even better than before.
After a few more hip thrusts, Mom pulled away and said, “Probably not going to get that catnap.”
Then she gave me a devilish grin, “But I sure worked up a sweat. I’m going to get a shower before lunch. Do you… um, would you like to join me?”
Copyright 2022 – Caliboy1991
All rights reserved
your stories are amazing, and i love them, but some of them (like this) seem so quick and…. idk, random. this basically came out of nowhere. not much plot, or build up to it. kinda just jumping right in with no warning. maybe its because i like “Slow-burners,” some of which my favorites which I have taken whole weekends to read. I know this is all fiction and very unrealistic (i think) but i hope and look for slower stories, more plot, more build up and excitement and slowly getting to what we want. i know theyre surely difficult and time consuming to write. Also, most if not all of the woman/boy stories you write have basically the same recycled plot; mid-20’s single woman with a just turning teenage son. I love them, but theres like six of them now, and they get less and less surprising and quicker and less exciting to read. i know what to expect…. i hope this is constructive and ill be keeping my eye out for more stories. 😀
I understand you look at it this way. The ‘older woman – young boy’ is totally Caliboy’s kink. I think he executes this extremely well (he’s at a level on his own in this genre), but it’s always more or less the same. There’s no denying that. But I like this kink too every now and then. And when it’s written at this level, I don’t mind, and I’m glad he wrote it.
I’m not feeling the need to defend him because he is competent enough to do that on his own. But I think some perspective might be needed. Slow-burners are very demanding to write! Trust me, I know. I did two recently. But I think both slow-burners and stroke stories can live side by side. That’s precisely what I host on this website. It’s a mix of both.
And don’t worry! Your comment is constructive. We’re big boys and are perfectly capable of handling some criticism. Believe it or not, it’s always appreciated! I’ll make sure to pass your comment on to Caliboy and let him respond in his own words.
Someweirdo… You’re my kindred spirit.
Thanks for taking the time to leave your feedback. I appreciate it.
My stories tend to be short on conflict and long on the sex, so there’s no doubt, a certain degree of sameness between the stories. After all, there are only so many ways to say “johnny fucked his mom/sister/babysitter.”
But I do enjoy trying to figure out fun and creative ways to explore Johnny’s escapades.
One of my problems is that I have a hard time getting stories to go longer than 40,000 words, which puts my stories firmly in the “novella” category. Just enough for a few hours of pleasurable (hopefully) reading. I have one that I hope to send over to Jason in a month or two that gets close to 60,000. It explores a few more issues, but it’s still mostly about exploring my kinks. I hope you keep reading these stories.
You’re welcome to follow me over on Archive of Our Own. Just search for caliboy1991 over there. There are a few stories over there that I haven’t got around to sending to Jason yet.
Readers over there seem to eat up the boy/mom story lines. To be honest, my favorite of my stories is the first story I posted here, called, “Forbidden Fruit,” which is a boy/man story. My favorite hetro story is The Treehouse. It’s got more conflict in it, and I really enjoyed exploring the innocent exploration between the two main characters. You’re welcome to reach out to me directly at email@example.com. Feedback, even negative, is always appreciated.