IT'S JUST A WORD
Dad left us years ago. He ran off with the "maid" he hired. We were both blind to what was happening. There was just enough being done in the house to make us not ask questions. Then, one day, they were both gone. I knew right away what happened, but it took Mom longer to figure it out. I don't know if she was genuinely ignorant of why he left her or if she was simply in denial. He never so much as picked up the phone to call me, either. Whatever issues he had with Mom were not my problem and I'll never understand why I was so easy to cast aside. Regardless, as the years passed, my anger toward him became deep rooted. Even if he called me today, I would wish him dead with every word he said and tell him as much.
Two years after he left, a lawyer showed up at the house with paperwork for her to sign. I wasn't home when he arrived, but I caught the aftermath. I later learned why it took so long for it to happen. For two years he paid the car notes and the mortgage without fail. I thought it was him being decent and caring. I thought that he cared for us, but simply preferred another woman as a companion. I could have perhaps seen past his actions and understood that mindset. That wasn't what was in his heart, though.
As soon as I turned eighteen, he sunk his claws in and destroyed us. I knew it was because I had turned eighteen. He knew child support would no longer be required of him. He also knew that he would not be putting out a single mother with a child to raise. He was free and clear of his financial and legal obligations of us and he took that moment to act.
The lawyer explained that she was being evicted from the house and the car was being reclaimed since her name wasn't on the note. When she asked questions, he explained that he wasn't at liberty to discuss details. He only told her that her failure to show up to court to fight for her rights was what enabled it all to happen. When she asked about the notice, she was told that she was notified via email and that was legal in our state. She tried protesting that she never received it, but her objections fell on deaf ears.
I arrived home to find her sobbing on the couch. She explained everything and said we had twenty-four hours to leave the house. The kicker was that he went through all that, apparently not happy wherever he was because within a week of us leaving, he moved into our house with his whore. He wanted the house so bad that he paid for it until he could legally reclaim it.
I did the best I could. I made some arrangements with friends and was able to get into a trailer at a local park and they helped me with some used furniture. Mom continued her job, but I quit college and started working to help get us back on our feet. I hated how everything happened, but I was motivated to make our lives better. I was a little delusional about how long it would take, though.
Three years passed and we were finally able to comfortably pay the bills and maintain an emergency savings account of our own. When we took over the trailer, we agreed to repair anything that needed it. It wasn't ideal, but we entered into the contract with those terms and were willing to endure whatever we had to to get by.
We were finally able to get a car after Mom's ruined credit recovered slightly and I established my own respectable credit rating. It had a decent warranty and we were prepared to utilize that car to its fullest potential. We would get up in the morning and Mom would drop me off at work then go to her own job. She would pick me up and we would go home at the end of the day and get our nightly routine underway. The car was used by both of us for every possible situation and I was glad to get the deal we ended up getting.
In hindsight, that seemed to be our saving grace. I don't know if we would have survived without that car. With that, we could begin a new, yet familiar routine.
She would start dinner, and I would get busy with weekly tasks like mowing the lawn, cleaning bathrooms or whatever else needed to be done. When dinner was over, we would play games or listen to music while we talked about our plans for the future. Sometimes we made up scenarios where we won the national lottery and would detail what we would do with half a billion dollars. Mom always surprised me with her answers to the question. She always wanted to give money away or start a business whose sole purpose was to help struggling people. It made sense, though. She never wanted people to struggle like she had.
That's how it went for three years.
In that whole time, Mom either never had time or never made time for dating. I call her out on that now since she could have easily dated without having to pay for anything. I, on the other hand, did not date. I couldn't justify the costs of it while we worked toward our future plans. We both remained single and took care of our own needs. At that moment, it was our financial and emotional support needs. All other needs were initially out of my purview. Our sexual needs, and very much my own, were not on my radar.
I never spared a thought about how Mom took care of herself in that way. It just never occurred to me. I felt as if she waited until I left the house to masturbate. The walls of the trailer were so thin that we could hear each other breathe in the next room if we listened close enough. That meant that noisy little toys would be out of the question. Though, with our savings plan, neither of us really had money to spend like that without saving for a bit.
I only figured out that she did that because I'm pretty sure I caught her cleaning up after herself a few times when I got home earlier than expected. It never bothered me, actually. I knew the relief that self-pleasure brought and was glad she had an outlet. I was proud of her when she told me she wanted to dip her feet into the dating pool.
"Good! I'm glad you're finally taking the leap, Mom. You deserve to be taken care of by a man who loves you."
She chucked and poked me hard on the arm, "What's that supposed to mean?"
I thought about what I just said and laughed loudly, "No! I mean you work hard for us, and I think you deserve someone who will treat you right and take some of the burden off your shoulders!"
She smiled warmly and told me she's been nervous about going out but that she was ready to give it a try. Time after time, though, she came back upset after failed dates. I knew she was getting frustrated and was ready to give up. It was the last date she went on that turned our lives upside down.
She had gone out to dinner with a man she met online, and they were supposed to get dinner and head to the karaoke bar. I had turned in early after mowing the lawn and showering. I don't know what time it was when I heard her creep into the house. She closed the squeaky door, and I heard her footsteps coming down the hall. I drifted back to sleep thinking she was just going to go to bed. Next thing I knew, she was climbing in my bed. I could hear her quietly whimpering.
"Mom, what's wrong?" I asked in a daze.
She didn't answer me. She wrapped her arm around me and buried her face in my neck and began to sob uncontrollably.
"Mom, are you drunk?"
She sniffled loudly, "I wish I was!" she cried out. "It's been years and all I want is a man to touch me, Jim. I just want to be touched. Am I that repulsive that a man can't bring me home and just--"
I didn't know how to respond. I could smell a bit of alcohol on her, but I was pretty sure she wasn't drunk. She continued venting her frustrations.
"Baby, I just need it. I need to feel a man again. It's been so long! I want to feel wanted!"
Her hand began to wander across my chest, and I questioned her state of mind again.
"Mom, do you know where you are?" I asked.
It was the only question I could think of at the moment. She was a little tipsy but not drunk as far as I could tell. She picked her head up but refused to look at me. She was clearly in a desperate state.
"I'm terrible for asking this," she said as she watched her hand slowly drift down my body.
"It's been so long," she whispered, "could I--"
She stopped speaking as her hand reached the waistband of my boxers. I knew what was on her mind, but I needed her to tell me what she wanted.
"Could we," she began asking, pausing again before saying it.
She couldn't bring herself to say it so I took over.
"Don't say anything," I told her as I moved to the edge of the bed. "Lay on your back here," I told her, patting the area where I just was. The bed was soft and I was confident that it would put her at ease about what I thought she was asking for.
She shifted over and I slid down to the end of the bed. I ran my hands up the outside of her legs and pushed her skirt up.
"Baby, you don't need—" she started before I interrupted her.
I thought it odd that she practically begged for what was about to happen then turned around and told me I didn't have to. I knew she wanted a man's attention and didn't particularly care who it was anymore.
"You have needs, Mom. I can take care of them for you tonight. I'll take care of them as long as you want me to."
Looking back, you would think I would have hesitated before I took our mother and son relationship into the deep end. I have a soft spot for women in distress. When it was my mother, though, there was nothing I wouldn't do. She did everything for me. It was high time I did something for her.
It's a lot for a son to do, isn't it? Well, perhaps sharing a bit about Mom might help you understand. She's a tall woman with naturally dark hair that's been died blonde. She purposely keeps the roots dark. Her eyes are a sparkling light brown, and her skin tone is just a few shades lighter than her eyes. She always touted the benefits of tanning; especially the part about it being free. Mom's breasts weren't very big but her gentle tan lines accentuated them very well. She also enjoyed wearing clothes that showcased them a bit.
I was able to easily visualize her as a woman and not just my mother. Her features took precedent in my mind over our relationship.
I got up on my knees and pushed my boxers down, allowing my hardening cock to bounce free. I reached down and put my hands inside the waistband of her panties and pulled them down and off of her. She lifted her butt off the bed to help me and I watched her hips move as she did. She was beautiful as I watched her body move to my will... to her will. She wanted what I wanted but while we both wanted the same thing; we never wanted each other until that moment. In that moment, though, we lost our minds. I wasn't her son, and she wasn't my mother... but that wasn't true.
I saw her watching my every move as I made them. I tossed her panties on the floor as she opened her legs to receive me. I positioned myself between her legs and rubbed the head of my cock against her slit. I could feel her wetness on the base of my cock as I rubbed it across her slit. I knew my cock was ready at any moment to push past her silky lips and inside her body.
Again, I didn't think much of the fact that I was about to have sex with my mother at the time. In my head, I justified it as doing anything for the woman who spent her life doing for me and loving me. She wanted a man to please her, and I was going to be that man for her. I further affirmed my actions by realizing that I had also not had sex in years, and I also had needs. We were going to have sex just one night and never speak of it again. Maybe we would speak of it again but remember it for what it was; a moment when we needed each other for much needed physical relief.
That was the last thing I thought before my cock dipped into her pussy. I'd never heard a woman moan like she did as I pushed into her. I felt each millimeter of my dick being sheathed by her tunnel. Her wetness coated me and eased my transition into her. My breath stuck in my throat until I was fully inside her. Even then, I was in awe of how she felt. She expressed similar feelings as I pushed into her.
I couldn't help but smile at the pleasure I was able to provide her. When I was all the way in, she pulled me tight against her. She looked me in the eyes as I rested fully inside her and paused.
"Just stay like that, baby. This feels amazing," she whispered. "I'm so sorry," she added.
"Just let me take care of you, Mom. If you think you're a terrible person for enjoying this, just know that I guess we're just two terrible people."
I started to withdraw when she put her hands on my ass.
"Not yet," she whispered, "let me feel you for just a bit longer."
It was an odd request, I thought. As I waited for her to release me, I considered the possibility that she needed to be filled physically and mentally. For a moment, I was happy to be the man who could make her whole again. I was deep in thought when she placed her hand on my cheek.
"I'm ready," she told me.
I was still lost, though. I had so many questions about what I was doing.
"How do you fuck your mother?" I asked myself in a temporary moment of clarity.
I felt my cock begin to soften and I began to push in and out of her to revitalize myself. I continued to question how I was supposed to be doing what I was doing as I was doing it. I had sex with my mother for the first time that night. I was riddled with so many questions that I was unable to complete the task to my satisfaction. That said, I was unable to finish. I thought at the beginning that I could do it without issue since I would also be satisfying my own needs at the same time. I did, however, complete it to her satisfaction. So much so that when she was done the second time, she burst into hysterics and fled my room.
I spent several minutes trying to piece together what had just transpired, but the concept that I had just had sex with my mother preoccupied me. I didn't believe it. It wasn't until the following morning that it all came back and smacked me in the face. I justified it before it happened. I lost my mental stability as soon as it got real and just then I was in disbelief.
"I literally had sex with Mom," I said quietly to myself that morning.
I pulled the covers away from my cock and inspected it. There was little to no evidence of sexual activity, and I quickly realized it was because I didn't cum. I listened for any noises happening around the trailer, but I heard nothing. My immediate thought was that she was so embarrassed by what happened that she left, or she was so satisfied that she slept in.
I decided to get up and creep over to her room. When I got there, I saw her bed was unmade but empty. My continued investigation proved my initial thought was true. She was likely so embarrassed or repulsed that she allowed her son to have sex with her that she left. I discarded the panic that initially rose inside me in favor of the thought that she would ultimately come back, and we would talk about what happened.
With that decision having been made, I went to the kitchen to get something to eat and that's where I found the note.
Jim,
I'm filled with absolute regret and shame about what I did to you. I've left and I will be back when I can forgive myself and look you in the eye again. I'm sorry I took advantage of you. You should never have to deal with a predator like me. I'm so sorry.
I love you,
Mom.
I kind of chuckled at the note. My apprehension from the night before seemed to have faded. I was oddly at ease about what happened, and the note seemed comical to me in the moment.
"Yeah, you took advantage of me," I thought to myself as I went to the cabinet to get cereal. I chuckled and continued with my morning routine.
As I was halfway into my breakfast, I realized she was genuine in her comments and that she probably thought she actually took advantage of me. I wasn't going to let her feel remorseful for something I actively contributed to. I fetched my phone and sent her a text.
"Reflect on what happened and realize who took control. If anyone took advantage of someone, it would be me."
The more time that passed, the less I cared about the events that took place. My only regret was not making it more memorable for both of us. I sent that message just before I thought of something catchy.
"Also, I'm not sorry."
I pressed the send button and put the phone down, not expecting an immediate response.
"We had sex."
I stared at her response and couldn't figure out her intent behind that simple sentence. As I was trying to think of a way to respond that would make her feel better about what happened, she sent another message.
"I should not have come to you like I did. I should have controlled my urges."
There was a quick pause before the next message came through. Wherever she was, she was reading into every word of our discussion and her mind was going a mile a minute. She was right, but in a manner of speaking, her thought process was flawed.
"Who else was going to please you?" I offered in response.
"I didn't give you a choice," she responded in quick order.
I laughed out loud at her lack of recollection, "Come home so we can talk. You're wrong about so many aspects of this that I won't continue to discuss this via texts."
There was no further discussion. As much as I would like to say she rushed home to talk to me, she didn't arrive until the following day. I had all sorts of questions about that concept by itself, but I knew the only thing on her mind was the fact that I had my dick inside her.
I had done my own reflecting on what we did and arrived at a conclusion. I didn't really care about what we did. I wasn't repulsed by the act and as far as I could tell, she wasn't either. I thought about what she did right after and realized that she just felt guilty that it was me inside her. She was embarrassed that her urges overtook her. I was sure that was it.
I wasn't near the front door when she arrived, but she eventually found me in the back yard.
"Babe?" she said to me.
"Oh! Hi, Mom. I suppose you would like to talk?" I said, eliminating any chance for small talk or distraction. I could see she was visibly shaken by my quick desire to talk about us having sex. She simply nodded and walked inside. I followed her and observed her like I never did before.
She had me when she was seventeen. Since she was in her thirties, she was still very firm in her appearance. Her ass was full and perky. Her long hair flowed down her back and her legs were muscular. I recalled from our coupling that her stomach had a lot of stretch marks but was very tight. It was obvious she had a child at some point but also obvious that she enjoyed keeping in shape. The younger guys would probably call her a MILF, but I called her Mom, and I had sex with her. There was no feeling of guilt about this act from me anymore. My goal was to remove that feeling from her mind so we could do it again.
She sat down at the table and fumbled with her hands like she was searching for a way to start the conversation she didn't want to have just then. I wanted to ease her discomfort.
"We had sex, Mom. It's okay. I hope we filled the void in your soul. I hate thinking you're doing without because of our situation or because I'm still here with you."
I didn't actually think anything she deprived herself because of me, but I wanted to give her a way out if that was what she needed. She covered her face with her hands and began to cry.
"Jim, I'm so sorry I did that to you," she started. I made a significant amount of noise to ensure she was paying attention to me.
"What did you do to me, Mom? What did you do that I had no control of?" I asked.
She sighed loudly, "I should have been the control. I should not have come to you like I did. If I had controlled myself, none of that would have happened."
"Do you think I didn't have an opportunity to stop you? Were you the one who pushed my penis inside you?"
I intentionally went that far to show her that she didn't control me. She was having no part of it.
"Were you doing it because you felt you had no way out?" she asked.
It was a legitimate question. She put me in a corner, and I couldn't find a word or series of words to see my way out of that without leading to more questions. I decided to take matters into my own hands. I reached my hand out and waited for her to put her hand in mine. She looked at me suspiciously while cautiously putting her hand in mine.
When she finally gave in, I pulled her out of her chair and led her to the counter. I turned her around until she was facing the cabinets and checked myself on what I was about to do.
You were full of questions last night. You're about to do something you can't reverse. End it now before you can't take it back. You could ruin everything, I thought.
Fuck it, I thought as I spun my mother around and lifted the same skirt she wore the night prior. The panties she would have been wearing were no doubt still on the floor of my room. I saw her perfect ass exposed to me in the light of the kitchen and I pushed my pants down to expose my cock.
"Is this enough for you to know you didn't do this alone?" I asked.
I had every intention of fucking her again in the kitchen that night, but she turned the tables on me. She spun around and looked me directly in the eyes.
"Jim, I'm going to return--" she said, pausing to choose her words, "the favor you did for me. After that, nothing else will come of this," she told me before she fell to her knees. She took me in her mouth and began the best blowjob I've ever had.
"I don't know how you're doing it, but I'm going to cum soon," I warned her after a mere two minutes.
She took me out of her mouth and jerked my cock with her hand, "It's because you took the time to make sure I was happy without making yourself happy. You're selfless and I love that you turned out that way, Jim. Be selfish now and cum. Dump it all on me."
The last sentence threw me. Did she want me to cum all over her? I was about to find out.
"Mom, I'm going to cum right now," I informed her.
She took me in her mouth and didn't relent until I shot my full load down her throat. It took me a couple minutes to recover before I pulled her up and we were face to face.
"What does this mean?" I asked her.
She searched my eyes for clarity, "What do you mean?"
"I mean, are we even? You came, I came, do we go the next several years without gratification before we do this again?"
I said what I said, and I was proud of it, but I wasn't expecting to be so blunt. She stared into my eyes, and I could tell she was searching for words. I decided to continue down the path that I was on.
"We did what we did, Mom," I started before she interrupted me.
"Have sex with me, Jim," she quickly uttered with a hint of instant regret written on her face.
I thought her sucking my dick and making me cum would be the reciprocation she might need to make her not feel guilty for running out of my room after she came. She clearly was on a different level than me. I took hold of her hands and put them at her side. I needed to be sure she knew what she was getting into.
"Mom," I started. I intentionally called her that to ensure our natural relationship status was said out loud, "what we're doing is incest."
I needed to make sure she was in the same reality I was in before we did what I was completely willing to do at that point. Her face changed to something closely resembling shock, but it was something else could never put a word to. It was like she knew but didn't want to admit it. I needed to add to my statement.
"I'm okay with having sex with you. I want you to feel good. I want you to feel satisfied. I want you to have a reliable source for your sexual needs, so you don't bring home a loser like Dad. I just want you to be sure you know what you're asking me to do."
"Incest," she whispered to herself.
"Incest, Mom. It's a word. It doesn't define who you are, who we are. It's an act that people have told you is bad. Was it so bad, Mom?"
Her focus shifted from one of my eyes to the other until she was ready to respond.
"I shouldn't have sex with my son," she complained. "My son should not want to have sex with me," she added.
"Yet, here we are, Mom. I just came in your mouth. You came twice last night if I counted correctly. What am I missing here?"
I was trying to remove all obstacles she might have. I was pretty much invested in having a sexual relationship with my mother again at that point. I had thought about it, and it was an act that I was ready and willing to do many times over. I just wanted her to be sure.
"How could you be okay with us having sex, Jim?" she asked me with a hint of shame in her voice. I sensed she may have also been asking to see if her justification matched my own.
"At the end of the day, who really cares? We're not doing it in the car of a Walmart parking lot. Sally, three doors down isn't in the room with us, yeah?"
Sally was the tattletale that lived not far from us. If I could convince Mom that old Sally wouldn't know, if would be the end of the argument. I paused and read her reaction to my words. When I realized that she was still considering the magnitude of what we were doing, I continued.
"I'm not even sure this is against the law, right?" I asked, genuinely unsure about the concept. "Regardless, what we do in our own home is nobody's business but our own."
I paused to consider what path I would take. To this day, what I said after that was likely the very best thing I could have said.
"We could take off our clothes and fuck right now. Or," I said, pausing and acting like I was thinking my way through the situation as we went, "we could just admit to each other that we have sexual needs and that we will be taking care of them from time to time on our own or even bring someone to the house for that purpose. Which is it?"
She considered the options I laid out. I didn't have any interest in jerking off every time I had an urge. It served a purpose, but if I had a woman in the house who I trusted, I saw no good reason not to pass that up. She continued looking into my eyes as she analyzed what I said and eventually came to the same conclusion.
"Have sex with me," she said again.
She clearly considered the implications of what she was asking for and discarded the potential ramifications, though I was clear that there weren't many to be had. I wrapped my fingers around my 'cock and was about to stroke it to hardness when she smacked my hand away from it.
"Stand there and look at me," she demanded.
I took a step back, with my cock still out and shrinking fast. She stared at me. I didn't know if she was reconsidering what she offered or figure out how it would work.
"Do you remember when we used to sit at night and make plans for the future?" she asked, removing her shirt.
I nodded.
"I don't want to love another man," she said, removing her bra.
I stood and watched every move she made and listened to every word she said.
"I don't want to have another man inside of me," she added removing the last piece of clothing she had on. She stood nude in front of me, sober, for the first time. She was beautiful. I feasted upon the evidence of my birth upon her and wanted to be inside her once again.
"You're beautiful," I whispered.
"I'm your mother, standing naked in front of you. You think I'm beautiful? I look awful!" she asked in a vulnerable state of mind.
I nodded but noted my objection.
"I see a beautiful woman in front of me. What makes it even better is that I see the evidence of my existence in your body, and I love seeing it. They're tiger stripes and evidence of my very existence. I love being inside you and I want to do it again and again."
"What is your next move?" she asked.
I was hard and moved closer to her.
"I want to be inside you again," I told her. "I know that's hard for you to accept at face value. We've done it before but I want it again in this sober moment."
She observed him closely and paused for a long time before backing herself up. She found the flat surface she was expecting behind her and laid herself down.
"Make love to me," she said softly.
I paused at the notion.
Make love to me, I thought.
I put my hand behind her head and laid her down on the table. Since she was already nude, I looked down and saw that she was already leaking wetness.
"You're ready," I said casually.
"I am," she confirmed.
I pressed my cock against her opening.
"I will stop now and never bring this up again if you ask me to stop," I told her.
Without a single breath, she replied, "Enter me, Jim. I want your cock."
I pushed into her and felt her wet, velvety skin engulf my cock and hug it as I pushed into her. We both moaned as we intentionally had sex with each other.
"This feels so good," I told her.
She groaned and nodded in agreement. If it weren't for her grabbing my ass again and pulling me into her, I would have thought she was indifferent. Instead, she looked deep into my eyes as my cock worked itself into her inch by inch.
"You're fully inside your mother, how do you feel about that?" she asked.
I responded without thinking of the question.
"I'm in love with you so, how do you think I feel?"
The look on her face changed. I began rhythmically pushing in and out of her when she pulled me into a deep and passionate kiss.
"What does this mean?" she asked as I fucked her slowly.
As I pushed in and out of her, I offered the idea that we could just keep it up until we realized the plans we made over the years.
She pulled at my body as I fucked her and begged me to continue at all costs.
"Just keep this cock inside me and I will be happy," she said.
"I can't keep it inside you forever," I reminded her.
She smiled and told me, "I know, but when you're done coming inside me, I want you to be inside me again when you're ready."
I knew Mom was truly deprived since she had clearly forgotten how men recover after coming.
"I'll stay inside you as long as I can, Mom, but there will be a time I will slip out. I'll love you all the same, though."
That made her smile, and I smiled in return. For the first time, she reached up and kissed my lips and I returned that kiss. My cock hardened in that moment and I pushed harder into her in that moment. She moaned into my ear.
"Fuck, I love you, Mom!" I told her as I continued to push my cock in and out of her.
"I love you to, my son," she said, holding me tight against her.
I continued pumping my cock in and out of her. We shared the sentiments back and forth and we ended up looking into each other's eyes blindly as I came.
"I'm sorry, I'm cumming!" I told her as I began pumping my seed into her.
"Do it!" she said loudly, "Cum inside me!"
It was all I needed to finish completely inside her. I grunted with each spurt of my semen inside her pussy. She greeted each grunt with a noise of her own, encouraging me to continue finishing insider her. When I was done, she let out a low, long moan letting me know how satisfying it was to feel a man cum inside her.
"It's been a long time since I felt this," she told me. "Will you do this again?"
As I was still inside her and recovering, I nodded in agreement. I was sold on having sex with my mother. She was a great partner and responded to me well.
"I will do this seven times a day if you want," I told her.
"Then fuck me again." She replied.
"Right now?" I asked, knowing full well I could continue.
She nodded happily in a way I had never seen before.
"Always," she answered.