“Huh?” Mom said, “Sorry, hon. I must have fallen asleep. I was having the most wonderful dream, though…”
*
I wanted more.
I know how insane that sounds. I think it’s intrinsic to the male psyche. Every pleasure merely a step on the path to the ultimate goal. And no, it’s not a coincidence that the word ‘ultimate’ contains the word ‘mate.’
It wasn’t so long ago that the thought of a handjob from my mom (from any woman, what with the quarantine and all) felt like an impossible dream. Now, getting rubbed off wasn’t nearly enough. We’d even moved on to oral, and it was incredible, but I couldn’t settle there.
I wanted to have sex with my mother. I needed to. I just didn’t know how I could make it happen.
Mom’s ground rules, especially since she’d expanded them, offered some possible openings. But I knew Mom would call a stop to it if I simply rolled over her the next time we were in bed. For a moment, I considered the morning before, when I’d had the opportunity because Mom was sleeping. But I knew that wasn’t the right way to do things. We both had to be conscious. Willing. Otherwise, it wouldn’t work (no matter what my libido said).
But that led to all kinds of other problems. In truth, I didn’t think I was actually ever going to be able to sleep with Mom. Some part of me knew I was doomed to fail. But I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Obsessing. And, so, eventually, I gave in to my urges and decided to make it happen, despite the slim chances of success and the massive likelihood that I’d lose whatever privileges I’d already earned.
It didn’t matter. The cock wants what the cock wants. To get to my goal, I knew I would need to be bold. It was clear that I would have to be clever. And I was sure I would require some condoms.
Sex without protection was something I didn’t do. Cassie was on the pill, but we still used rubbers. It was part of the process for me, like putting on your seatbelt when you get in the car. Automatic.
Fortunately, I had a few condoms lying around my bedroom, left behind from when I’d left for college. I dug through all my drawers and secret hide-y spots and was able to find a total of five condoms of various styles and provenance. And, I told myself, I could always go out and buy more if I needed. That was awfully optimistic of me, thinking I would be running out for extra protection when it was extremely unlikely that I’d ever get to use what I already had.
So, with everything in place, I began to enact my plan.
I got my supplies and put them somewhere I could easily reach when I needed them. I staged the area, so that everything was properly organized. And then I watched, and waited, for my moment.
After dinner that night, as Mom and I did the dishes, I took the first step.
“I’ve enjoyed our TV time,” I said, “There’s a lot about this whole quarantine thing that’s been awful, but the fact that it’s made us so close? I can’t tell you how much that means to me.”
“Me too,” Mom said, “Thank you for saying that. I hope you know how much I value what we have right now.”
“Same,” I said, “I want you to know that I would never do anything to risk the closeness we’ve rediscovered. Whatever happens, I hope you understand that I’m always thinking of you, of us, first.”
Mom tilted her head at me, and for a moment I thought she’d figured it all out. I didn’t know whether to be terrified or thrilled. Then she said, “I know honey. Soon the shelter-at-home order will end, we’ll get a vaccine, you’ll go back to school and I’ll… Well, I guess I’ll go back to whatever the hell it is I’m doing with my life.”
I didn’t hear it, but I swear I felt her choke back a sob.
“I know that you love me, and I don’t blame you for leaving,” Mom continued, “You should go and have your own life. But this, our relationship right now, just know that it will always be very special to me.”
“Me too,” I said.
When we were done with the dishes, I took Mom’s hand and led her down to the basement. “If you’re ankle is better, I think we can go back to watching down here,” I said.
“Oh. OK,” Mom said. She eyed me warily, like she knew I was up to something but couldn’t exactly figure out what.
We went down to Dad’s room. Mom noticed my handiwork immediately.
“Jay, all your hockey stuff is piled on my side of the couch.”
“Oh damn,” I said, “I was getting it all together for when I go back to school, and I guess I forgot it was there.” I walked over and started to fiddle with the TV. I found a movie channel that was showing something quiet and forgettable. I sat down in the one open spot on the couch, pulling the strategically set blanket over my lap.
“Well, where am I supposed to sit?” Mom asked, hands on her hips. Her patience was already running thin.
“I can move all my stuff but it’s really super heavy and I don’t feel like dealing with it right now,” I said, “I promise to move it all in the morning.” I paused, savoring the moment. “Why don’t you come sit on my lap, instead?”
Mom let my request hang in the air. I could see the gears turning behind her beautiful blue eyes. For a moment, I thought for sure she was about to shut it all down, and my game would be over before it started.
“Sure,” Mom said. She shrugged, then walked around the couch. When she turned to sit, I moved the blanket out of the way. When she placed her butt on my leg, I covered us both.
“What are we watching?” Mom asked.
“Don’t care,” I said. I put my hands on her waist and pulled her back.
“Oh!” Mom said, surprised by my grip. Then my aching, hard cock made contact with her denim-covered backside. “Ohh.”
“You OK?” I asked.
“Uh huh,” Mom said.
“Cause I’m a little uncomfortable,” I said.
“You’re the one who left all his stuff on the couch,” Mom said.
“No, I know,” I said, “It’s actually your jeans that are the problem. They’re itchy on my leg.”
Mom turned back to look at me, knowingly. Again, I thought the jig was up. She reached under the covers, unsnapped her jeans, then rose up to slide them over her wide hips.
Mom sat back down. Her warm, naked thighs landed on mine. Her panty-covered backside slid up against my completely uncovered dick.
Mom realized it immediately. I could tell by how she reacted. The little gasp she made as our bodies made contact. How she, unconsciously I’m sure, shimmied her butt against my bare cock. But she didn’t turn around. Didn’t say a word.
Mom’s pants lay in a pile in front of the couch. She couldn’t see it, but my own shorts and underwear were lying next to hers. I’d slipped them off as soon as I was under the blanket.
I was more than halfway to home. Already over the fence. Up the walkway. At the door. My erection pressed forward into Mom’s thin panties, about to ring her doorbell. The only question was if she’d let me in.
I put my hands on Mom’s hips again. Slowly, we began to slide against each other. I could feel how slippery Mom was through her underwear. Her body moved in rhythm over mine.
“This is nice, right?” I said, “The show I mean.”
“Very,” Mom agreed. She shifted, settling her cunt over my cock.
We sat that way for a little while, just savoring each other. I let Mom get comfortable. Her perfect posterior planted on my shaft. Legs spread lewdly under the blanket. We started to move faster. Our movements becoming more urgent.
This was the moment. While we ground into each other, I reached down and carefully pulled Mom’s panties to the side. A moment later, my bare cock slid through her lips.
Both of us groaned.
“Jay, I’m not sure we…”
“You want me to change the channel?” I asked.
“I don’t mean the TV,” Mom said, disapproving. But her backside was telling a different story. The warmth of her pussy pressed against my dick. GodDAMN I could already feel myself responding far more than I wanted.
“What’s up?” I asked, still maintaining my sense of calm. At least, in the part of me that wasn’t under the covers. I have to admit, it was fun turning Mom’s game against her.
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Mom said.
“Watching TV?” I asked. “Cuddling?”
“You’re a bastard you know that?” Mom said.
“I’m your bastard,” I said.
“No,” Mom said firmly, “You’re my little knight. My baby boy.”
I noticed she hadn’t stopped sliding. In fact, her movements were becoming more defined. Driven.
“It’s OK, Mom. We’re under the covers.”
“Honey, I don’t think that’s the kind of protection we need right now,” Mom said.
“I’ve got that, too,” I said.
Mom froze in place. She snapped her thighs shut. I thought she was ending the action, maybe that was her intention. But then her whole body stiffened. She arched her back. A strangled whine escaped her lips.
Mom’s orgasm caused me to go over the top as well.
“UrrrrrrAH!” the growl escaped me as I burst forth. I squeezed my mother’s stomach, holding her tight as I erupted. The simple knowledge that I was pressed against her pussy made my orgasm feel richer, deeper, than before. I came all over the blanket, certainly, but I know I also got a good amount on Mom’s legs. Her stomach.
We sat on the couch, holding tight, like squeezing out each other’s ecstasy. Then finally the pleasure subsided, and we both fell back, weak.
Mom leapt to her feet. The blanket flew off. I was staring at my mother in just her panties and a tank top. The gusset was still pulled to the side, and I could see shoots of curly, blonde pubic hair sticking out over dark, full labia. One bubbly butt cheek was completely bare. A long glob of my cum ran down Mom’s shapely leg.
“I have to go,” Mom said, then scampered out of the room.
I lay back, totally satisfied and completely unnerved. What had I done? And, worse, how could I get her to do it again?
*
“I’m not like your ex,” Mom said, “That Kathy girl.”
“Cassie,” I said.
“Whatever. I’m different,” Mom said.
We were sitting out in the backyard. Spring was slowly giving way to Summer. The heat was already becoming oppressive. I had my shirt off. Mom was in a tank top and shorts. Her foot rested in my crotch. I alternated between covertly rubbing against it and painting her toes a bright, fire engine red.
It was the day after our dry humping escapade. Mom didn’t talk about the night before. She was weirdly silent for most of the day. But she’d also slapped my ass when we were stretching for our run and a couple times, I’d caught her doing something that looked a lot like preening when I glanced her way.
“I know you’re not like Cassie, Mom,” I said, kindly. I thought she meant that she wasn’t a college girl; some young kid whose emotions I could play with. A girl to notch my bedpost with. She was a woman, my mom, and I had to treat her differently than I would some chick I was banging.
Which, of course. I’d never seen Mom that way, anyway. I knew she was different, which was probably why I couldn’t control my attraction to her. But that’s not what she was getting at, at all.
“What I mean is, I don’t have some of her, what did you call them? Hang-ups,” Mom said, “Kind of the opposite, actually.” She was trying to make this sound like idle chat, but there was a weightiness to her words. Also, she hadn’t taken her eyes off my chest since I’d taken off my shirt. “You know what I mean?” Mom asked.
She could see the confusion in my eyes. She buried her face in her hands. Stared down at the ground.
“Sperm,” Mom said, speaking the word like an incantation. As if the single syllable could crack the world in half. “I like it. Like, a lot. More than I should. Obviously.” She gestured at me. She looked up, took a deep, cleansing breath. But still, she stared past me.
“There’s just something magical about it,” Mom said, the words all spilling out of her like a crazed confession. “I mean, it’s literally liquid life. Alive. The way you have to work for it. Begging, supplicant at the source. And then it spurts forth. Bursts. An explosion of writhing, rolling creatures. Penetrating, probing, pursuing. Pulsing with the essence of existence itself.” She gave a little shiver. “I love it. The thought of it on me. In me. Like I can feel them wriggling around, throbbing through me. Infusing my body with this illicit energy inherited from every human who’s ever lived. God, even the smell, the tang of it on the tip of my tongue. The little tickle at the back of my throat…”
Mom took a deep breath. Her eyes flitted around, like awakening from a trance.
“Oh,” I said. I wasn’t sure how to respond. I’d never thought of it that way. But the way Mom talked, I was totally turned on.
“Your, um, your father doesn’t know,” Mom said, she chewed at her thumb. “I’ve never told him. How I feel. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t say anything.”
Was that really a concern? I couldn’t imagine any conversation with my father that could ever come close to getting to that content. Hey, Dad, so you know Mom has this massive cum fetish, right? Well, I was thinking…
“So anyway, you can see why what we’ve been doing,” Mom said, “Sorry. What we may or may not be doing. You can see why that’s so dangerous. For me. For us.” Her voice got very quiet. “I’m scared I’ll lose control.”
“We’re not doing anything wrong,” I said. Mom glared my way. OK, she had me on that one. “I’m not going let it go too far. I mean, I have condoms.”
Even to me it sounded weak.
Mom got up from her chair. She grabbed her things.
“Should we stop?” I asked, shading my eyes to look up at her.
“Stop what?” Mom replied, then marched into the house.
*
I was certain that was the end of it, but Mom told me over dinner that she was looking forward to watching TV that night.
“I think we can go back to the bedroom, though,” she said, “Since the couch is covered in your stuff.” My mind flashed back to my mother standing up, covered in my stuff and I blanked. That’s how my mind worked now. Everything was dirty.
I agreed with Mom of course. She could have suggested we go sleep on sharpened razor blades and I’d have said ‘yes’ in an instant. So, after we’d finished eating and done the dishes, our usually routine, I let Mom take my hand and lead me back through the threshold of her bedroom. To the place that still, to me, felt forbidden. Of husbands and wives, not mothers and sons. Maybe that’s why she wanted us there. It changed the dynamic.
I brought my iPad and set it up on the bed. Mom crawled under the covers on her side. I did the same on mine. Then I started the show. We’d started bingeing on some thing about glass blowing. We’d seen almost all the episodes which is funny because we hadn’t actually watched any of them.
As soon as it started, Mom lifted her hips, and I knew she was slipping out of her jeans. There was a low rustle as she dropped them on the side of her bed. I decided to do the same. I reached for my shorts and, at the last second, decided to take off my boxers, too.
A moment later, my decision was rewarded as Mom reached over and grabbed my bare cock.
“Hm! Well, someone’s feeling aggressive today,” Mom said.
“What?”
“I mean that piece of sculpture, he’s never going to finish it in time,” Mom said.
“Oh. Right.”
I reached over to find Mom’s pussy was equally uncovered. Her curly pubes tickled at my palm as I dipped my pointer into her hot slot.
“If he’s going to be risky like that, Mom said, “He should probably be using some kind of protection. So nothing goes wrong.”
She looked at me, meaningfully. For a moment, I froze. The realization dawned on me.
“Right,” I said. I took my hand out of her pussy. I’d planned for everything the night before, but for some reason it hadn’t occurred to me that things were going to continue today. Quite the opposite, actually. So now I found myself undersupplied.
“I’ll be right back,” I said, and slipped out from under the comforter.
It didn’t even occur to me that I was naked. That Mom was seeing my bare body from the waist down. My dick sticking straight outwards. Mom gasped. Her eyes focused right on my member.
Mom had touched me there innumerable times now. But she’d only seen my dick the night she sucked me off. And even then, it was under the covers and in the darkness. The way she stared now — pupils huge, lips sucked small — I could tell this wasn’t just a casual glance.
“Ummm, sorry,” I said. I reached down for my boxers and quickly pulled them on. This was becoming more disastrous by the minute.
I quickly left Mom’s bedroom and hauled toward mine. I had all five condoms, waiting for me in my nightstand drawer. I grabbed a random one, tore open the packaging, and slipped it over my still-hard dick.
I practically leapt back into the bed with Mom, ripping the covers over me and stripping off my boxers. Mom giggled at my enthusiasm.
“I’m just really into this show,” I said.
I expected Mom to laugh at me, but instead she touched my arm meaningfully. “Me too,” she said.
Mom scooched next to me, resting her head on my shoulder. Hand on my chest. Her leg slipped up to rest on my thigh — I could feel she was bare, below. Mom wrapped herself on to me like she was a koala, and I was a eucalyptus tree. Nuzzled her nose on my neck.
“This is OK, right?” Mom asked, quietly.
“It’s just cuddling,” I said, “Moms and sons cuddle.”
“Right,” Mom said.
She drifted her hand down my chest and under the covers. She clasped my cock. Moms and sons definitely didn’t do that. Or, at least, they weren’t supposed to. I stretched, settling myself for our usual stroke-fest.
But as soon as Mom felt that I was wearing the condom, she let go of my dick. She cuddled closer. I could feel the heat of her pussy on my thigh. Her shirt-covered breasts on my arm. For a moment, I wondered if there was a way I could convince her to take our tops off, too.
Mom shifted her body again, twisting till she was right on top of me. Her head now resting on my chest. Arms wrapped around me in a hug. Pussy — oh fuck — her pussy was in the exact right place. Directly on top of my dick.
Mom put her hands on my chest. Her eyes met mine. Our respective sexes dragged over each other.
“I like. Cuddling. This way,” Mom said. Every breath short. Every word a little gasp. Already, I could feel her body trembling.
Mom ground down hard. I could tell that she’d gotten my cockhead right on her clit. She rolled her hips back and forth. Working towards her pleasure. The fact that it also felt good to me was incidental.
Seeing Mom like this — sweat tricking down her neck, eyes locked in concentration — her face so close I could feel her breath on my cheek, it was incredible. The sexiest thing I’d seen so far. Each little freckle. The twitch of her lip. The driving force of her body on mine.
Even better though, was the contrast of how she acted and how she looked. Mom humped up and down on me frantic, wild. But she did her best to keep her expression impassive. Her sounds swallowed.
I had to do the same. I slid my hand down her bare back and squeezed her ass. Tried to pump my hips in time to hers. But I couldn’t say a word. I kept my mouth flat. My eyes distant. All I wanted to do was shout.
I could feel the heat of Mom’s bare pussy on my condom-covered cock. I could feel her dripping over the latex. Her pubic hair scratched at the base of my dick. The physicality of everything we were doing was already over the top. The fact that it was getting both of us off was almost the least important part.
Mom started to tremble. Her body shook. Movements erratic.
“She gasped, then turned her head away, biting down on her lip.
I grabbed Mom’s ass with both hands and started to slide up and down. As Mom’s orgasm overtook her, my own raced out of my shaft. I filled the condom. My mother experienced the same illicit energy. Both of us so close to connected.
“I, um, need to use the bathroom,” I said as casually as I could once both of us came down. Mom was lying over me, panting. Slick with sweat. She looked my way and nodded.
I extricated myself from under her and went to the master bathroom. Mom could see my bare backside as I went, but I no longer cared.
I took the condom off and dumped it down the toilet. This was it. This was as far as we could go right now. It was already more than I’d ever dreamed of.
I turned back and saw Mom staring at me. No. I wasn’t done yet.
I walked out of the bathroom, my flagging cock already refilling with blood. I went to my bedroom, grabbed another condom from my nightstand, and came back to Mom’s bed.
Mom was still lying splayed on the bed. Like I’d murdered her there. She gave me a weak smile when she saw me come back in the room. I don’t think she realized I was armed for a second attack.
I flung open the covers. For a moment, I could see Mom’s bare pussy. Covered in thick, blonde pubic hair. Her labia engorged and deep pink from the stimulation, hanging wide open lewdly.
I climbed into the bed and pulled the covers over us like a vampire hiding behind his cape. I rolled Mom over. Climbed up her like she was now the tree.
“Jay?” Mom asked.
“Just cuddling,” I said.
I reached down and centered my cock over Mom’s snatch. Then I ground down. Both of us groaned. I was in the perfect place. Well, almost.
Again, I humped against my mother. This time, I was the aggressor. At some point both of us gave up on hiding it. We didn’t say anything. Just looked into each other’s eyes. A tacit acknowledgement of what we were doing.
I slid my cock back and forth over Mom’s hot box. The head of my cock popped into her channel for a moment, then slid out. Mom grunted. She searched my eyes.
I waited for her to say it. If she told me to stop, I would. I told myself I would. But speaking would be crossing the line. I was counting on that, too. We were still under the covers, pretending like that made a difference.
My cockhead skimmed Mom’s opening again. This time, I felt her shift her hips slightly, like trying to trap me there. But my dick slid out again, battering her little clit instead.
Mom raised her knees. She angled her ass. This time, when I slid my cock upwards, I dropped right inside her pussy.
YES!
I may have screamed it aloud. My dick slipped about halfway into Mom’s cunt. I drew back, then finished filling her all the way. We were completely, truly, connected now. My cock in the place I’d come from. Buried in my own mom’s pussy.
I held in place. Too overcome by what I’d accomplished to keep going. I was in Mom. Oh fuck. Even with the condom it was the best thing I’d ever felt.
I expected Mom to say something. To chide me for going this far. Instead, she lay back. Chest rising and falling fast. Her pussy walls squeezing around my latex-sheathed cock.
I realized if I waited much longer, I might lose the opportunity. I started to pump her. This was it. I was having sex with my mom. She reached up and put her hand on my cheek. It was her most overt gesture yet.
The bed rocked. Our bodies made rude squishing sounds. I plunged into Mom’s waiting pussy. She raised her knees and tilted her ass. I held her hips. We moved like we were made to be this way. Mother and son. Two lovers.
Mom’s pussy was plenty tight. Even better, she moved and squeezed in a way that I’d never experienced before. I was with a woman for sure. I thought all sex was the same. It didn’t occur to me that there might also be skill involved. Mom was a maestro. Even as I fucked her, she guided me forward to our finish.
“Mom,” I said. I couldn’t help it. I was getting close, and the word slipped out.
My mother nodded. The look in her face almost too serious. My stroke stuttered. I buried myself as deep as I could. Then I unleashed a torrent of cum. Again, it foundered in the reservoir of the condom. I groaned as I emptied myself. Hips still fruitlessly trying to push farther.
Mom stroked my head as I came. She made a little coo, but I could tell she hadn’t orgasmed. I was disappointed in myself for not getting her off. I worried that I’d gone too soon. Blown my one opportunity.
Finally, I finished cumming, and disengaged from my mother. I fell onto my back. Now I was the one gasping for air, lying back on the bed. Eyes focused on the surprisingly interesting ceiling.
“Well, that was nice,” Mom said, “I would definitely watch that episode again.
I looked over at her, and we shared a coy smile.
*
I woke up in Mom and Dad’s bed again. Mom was already up. I heard her humming to herself downstairs. I got out of bed, my legs so weak, I felt like I’d already done my morning exercise. I made myself get ready, anyway.
I don’t know why I expected the day to go differently. I guess I thought that sex was simply too big to ignore. But Mom and I went for our run, took turns showering in separate bathrooms, then went about the rest of our day as if nothing had happened.
That night, we had dinner together, then Mom went upstairs before we did the dishes. I’ll be honest, I was nervous about that evening. I didn’t know what was going to happen. What Mom was going to let me do. I had three more condoms and I damn sure wanted to use them. Plus, I knew I needed to make Mom cum this time. I was determined to.
If she’d let me.
Mom came down the stairs in that long, green sleep shirt and something came over me. Like a switch had been flipped. She went into the kitchen. I ran upstairs to my bedroom.
I come back down the stairs on automatic. A pussy-seeking missile incapable of missing my target. I don’t know what it was about that shirt. It wasn’t sexy. But something about it, held me in thrall.
I walked into the kitchen. Mom was bent over the sink.
“Took you long enough,” Mom said.
I didn’t respond. I stood behind my mother. Reached for the hem of that lime green shirt. Slipped it up, over her hips. Bared that incredible backside.
Mom had nothing on underneath. I saw the pale skin of her rounded butt. The thick lips of her pussy. I pulled back on Mom’s thighs.
“Whoa!” she said.
Before she could say anything else, I slipped my condom-covered dick inside my mother’s vagina. The second time I was in Mom’s pussy was very different than the first. She wasn’t lubricated and so I could barely get the head of my dick in. I drew back and pushed again. Aching to be back inside my mother.
“Honey, I don’t think this is…”
“Look forward,” I said, “You can’t be sure what’s happening if you don’t look.”
Halfway in now. I could feel Mom’s cunt lubricating, stretching, to invite my foreign invader. But then, how alien was I? After all, I’d come from that place. I was merely returning home. To where I belonged.
Fully buried in my mother again. Oh God. My balls rested against Mom’s clit. My dick completely sheathed, up to her cervix. Mom stayed still. Head lolled. That damned green shirt hung over her butt again. Providing the barest bit of cover to us both.
I knew I should go slow. Savor. I couldn’t control myself. I threw myself into it with my mother bent before me. Wet sounds and heady smells. I pounded my mother from behind. Fucked her as hard as I could. Rhythmic slaps crashed over the still-running water.
“Just… doing… the dishes…” Mom said, trying to preserve the fantasy that nothing was happening.
I pushed the sleep shirt up slightly. I could see Mom’s tight asshole winking at me as I thrust. I slapped my palm against her butt cheek.
“Oh!” Mom said and I could tell it was more from the surprise than a pleasant feeling. She started to glance back, then stopped herself. I contented myself to grip her cheeks as I drove into her.
Her pussy was dripping now. Soaking. I felt the liquid coating my balls as they bounced back and forth. Mom was doing her best to stay quiet, but I could hear her little uhn, uhn, uhns with every stroke.
I felt a tickle at the base of my shaft. I looked down and saw that Mom had one of her hands between her legs. Rubbing herself while I rutted in her. Now we were both grunting. A shared, mother-son crescendo. The veil between what we did and what we admitted to doing was so thin now, I could break through it with a cotton swab.
Incredibly, Mom went off first. She reached back with her hand and held me still. Kept me buried as deep as she could as she came. Her cunt squeezed down. Her legs trembled. Her head hung limp over the sink.
Her grip on my leg loosened and I thought it was done. I drew back and thrust. Mom lets out a high-pitched whine as she tumbled from one orgasm to the next. I couldn’t take anymore. I knew I was maybe three thrusts away. Two. One.
I groaned as the ecstasy rushed over me. One massive squirt. Then another. Filling the condom. Emptying myself. Mom rolled under me. Both of us entwined under the spell we’d created together.
I knew in that moment that Mom was truly mine.
I stepped back. Mom stayed bent over the sink. Then, like nothing had happened, she went back to washing the dishes, humming to herself tunelessly. The long green shirt hung down to her mid-thigh. My dick still hung out of my shorts. The used condom, covered in Mom’s juices and filled with my semen, felt cold and slimy on my cock.
I took it off, carefully, and dumped it in the trash. Then I tucked myself away. Mom turned when she heard me closing my zip.
“You going to help here or what?” she asked. A dopey grin played on her lips. I sidled up next to her and grabbed the towel. She handed me a plate and I rubbed it dry.
“Sorry, spaced out for a minute,” I said, as if any of that made sense.
“You know, I can’t think of the last time I enjoyed doing the dishes that much,” Mom said, she turned her head to look right at me.
“It’s been a while?” I asked, unable to control the cocky grin overtaking my face.
“Decades,” Mom said. She smiled right back at me.
*
For the first time in over a month, we skipped our usual TV night. We both knew why. It wasn’t an ending. It was the beginning. And both of us wanted to be ready for it.
The next morning, I woke up in my own bed and it felt weird. I was so used to passing out in other places. I got dressed and found Mom waiting for me in the kitchen. Already stretching. She had on a pair of short shorts and a black sports bra. Her little bellybutton flashed as she bent to the side.
“It’s super-hot out,” Mom said.
I pulled my shirt off. Mom didn’t bother to hide her gape. She reached out to touch my chest and I let her. Traced her fingers on my bare pecs and stomach.
“Have I told you how good you look?” Mom asked, “You’re amazing.”
“You too,” I said, and I risked touching Mom’s naked tummy. She flinched, but she didn’t say anything.
“We need to get going,” Mom said, “Before things get too hot to run.”
We got a good start. My body felt perfectly timed, like a machine. Despite my speed, Mom stayed right behind me. I noticed how trim she looked. She caught me staring back at her and smiled.
“Eyes on your own paper, mister,” she called out to me.
“You’re only hanging back there to stare at my ass,” I said. I had been joking, but then Mom pinked, and I realized I was right on the mark. Mom sped up and ran by my side.
“View’s pretty good here, too, she said, eyeing my bare chest. I pointedly did the same. Her breasts were strapped in tight, I couldn’t see a thing, but still.
“Be careful not to trip this time,” I told Mom, who was studying my torso like she had an exam on it coming up. This time, she blushed so deep, I thought she might pass out.
We did a full eight miles. The most either of us had ever done. It felt easy, like I could have gone another eight if I wanted. We came home giggly. Fell onto the front lawn and rolled on the grass. Laughing under the cloudless, blue sky.
I leaned turned over and grabbed Mom’s shoulders. Her eyes met mine. We were out in the middle of the neighborhood. The whole world could see us. I leaned forward. Mom’s eyes met mine.
“We missed our TV night yesterday,” I said.
“I was worn out from doing the dishes,” Mom said. She gave me a playful grin.
“Well, I think you owe me some screen time,” I said.
“Is that so?”
Mom’s arms were around my waist. My hands were on her shoulders. I closed my eyes. Leaned forward. Felt Mom’s breath on my lips.
Her cellphone rang.
It rang again.
She reached into her pocket and took it out. “It’s your father,” she said, showing me the screen. Like I needed the evidence.
I let Mom up and she leapt to her feet.
“Hey hon!” I heard her say, as the front screen door swung closed behind her. I lay back on the grass with a loud sigh.
*
I got out of the shower and got dressed in shorts and a t-shirt. When I came downstairs, I found Mom already sitting at the table. She was back in her usual uniform of a flannel shirt over a white, ribbed tank top and high-waisted jeans. A plate of waffles sat in front of her. My heart sank.
When I was a kid, whenever I had a bad day, Mom would make waffles for me. I don’t know how the tradition started, but at some point, it was established that they were our comfort food. That plate was the death knell of what we’d been doing. It told me everything that Mom couldn’t say.
I sat down and Mom placed two steaming circles onto my plate. She couldn’t meet my eye.
“Your father’s coming home tonight,” Mom said, “He finally got all the paperwork through. We have to pick him up at Bradley after dinner.”
“I see,” I said, “You must be happy he’ll be home.” It was a cheap shot, I know, but Mom batted it away like a pro.
“It’ll be nice to have the family all together again,” she said.
“I’m sure.”
I could barely taste my breakfast, but I forced myself to eat. Mom sat and watched me. She was smiling, but her eyes looked sad. I knew in that moment that Mom wasn’t any happier about this than I was. Just more mature.
“It’s been fun,” Mom said, “the last few weeks.”
“For sure,” I said.
“I don’t want to lose that,” Mom said, “I mean, the closeness that we have.”
“Me neither,” I said. I reached across the table and took Mom’s hand. “I’m not letting you go.”
Mom nodded. She got up from the table, and I swear I heard a sniffle.
After breakfast, I helped Mom clear the table and do the dishes. I would never see that sink the same way again.
“After this, you want to watch something?” Mom asked. I nearly dropped the plate I was drying. “You know, one last time before your father gets home.”
I nodded, mute. Unable to express myself anymore.
“I think my bedroom will be fine,” Mom said. Her message was clear.
After we finished with the dishes, I went up to my bedroom. I grabbed both remaining condom packets and put them in my pocket. If this was the last hurrah, then I was making the most of it.
Mom was waiting in her bedroom, the blanket already up to her waist.
“Come rest your head,” she told me, patting her shoulder.
I climbed under the covers and slipped off my shorts. I scooched in next to Mom, putting my head right where she wanted . I pushed my legs against Mom’s and felt that she, too, was naked below the waist.
“This is the last time,” Mom said, “Our last chance to do this together.”
“Pretty sure we can still watch TV,” I said, even though I knew exactly what she meant.
“Not like this,” Mom said, and she sounded wistful. Sad.
She reached over and pushed play on my iPad. The show came on and we did something completely different. We actually cuddled. We stayed in the bed, enjoying each other’s company. Mom absently stroked my head. I held her close. Strangely, it was the most intimate thing we’d done.
But biology inevitably came knocking and soon, I found myself reaching for the condoms. As soon as I opened the first one, I knew something was wrong. The latex felt dry and thin. It had clearly gone bad, so I tossed it away. I opened my last packet and, thankfully, it was fine. I guess it made sense. Last time together. Last condom.
I climbed between Mom’s waiting thighs and slid inside of her. We rolled together slowly, taking our time. We didn’t say anything, but we stared at each other while we made love. We didn’t do anything else. No extra motions or extraneous sounds. We enjoyed the connection of our bodies. It was lovely.
Finally, I filled the condom. Then I emptied Mom. She rubbed her hand up my flank, like rewarding a racehorse after a good run. She was staring, intently, and I realized she was looking at the condom. I held it up like offering it to her. Mom shook her head and looked away.
When I came back from flushing the condom in the toilet, Mom was lying on top of the covers. She was fully dressed. This time, she patted the side of the bed where she wanted me to sit.
We lay back and watched (actually watched this time) a bunch of banal reality shows. They weren’t bad, really. But nothing was better than being with Mom. The whole world seemed muted in comparison.
We ate a staid, almost funereal dinner. As I chewed, I mentally reviewed everything that had happened the past month or so. How Cassie had broken up with me. How Mom and I started watching movies together. Starting to run with Mom. Starting to do, um, other things with Mom. Painting her nails in the backyard. Painting her pussy with my tongue in her bedroom. And then, finally, the two of us becoming one.
It was over.
I knew it was going to be hard, but both of us would move on. This time would be a passing reverie. A fever dream of sounds and sentiments. Something that neither of us would ever admit to, but in our secret hearts would share forever.
Mom would go back to her life. I’d meet a girl and marry. In stolen moments, we’d share a sneaking smile, but that was all. And even then, we’d wonder if it was all imagined. A skip in time. A blip where the world paused and we slipped around the seconds like phantoms.
Mom’s phone buzzed and she looked down at it.
“Your father’s flight is delayed,” she said. A moment later the phone rang. Mom pushed the button to answer it on speaker, sliding her cell into the middle of the table.
“Hi David!” Mom said, remarkably cheerful. “Jay and I are here — we saw about your flight. That sucks!”
“It’s fine,” Dad said. His voice was tired. “I just can’t wait to get home.”
“I’m sure,” Mom said, “We’ll have the bed all set up and ready for you.” I thought that was a strange thing to promise, but in the context of what we’d been doing in there, I’m sure it was an important detail to Mom.
“Whatever,” Dad said, “You’re still going to come get me.”
“Yes, Jay’s all set to come pick you up,” Mom said. She smiled at me, warmly.
“Don’t just send the kid, Julie, seriously,” Dad said. Something about how he called me ‘the kid’ made me wonder if he realized I was on the phone, too. Mom had clearly said I was there, hadn’t she?
“Oh, definitely,” Mom said, “I can’t wait to see you, too. But I’m sure, if he had to, Jay would be fine on his own.”
“Jesus Julie, look. I know that Jay’s your sweet little boy or whatever, but even you have to admit, he’s not exactly firing on all cylinders.”
“He’s right… He’s listening to…” Mom tried to interrupt him, but Dad plowed forward.
“I mean, the kid’s almost 19 and I barely trust him to drive to the supermarket for milk without getting in two accidents on the way and bringing home eggs, instead. Let alone the hour’s drive up to Bradley and back in the middle of the night.”
Mom looked at me, ashamed. As if this was somehow her fault. Both of us flushed. I felt embarrassed. Angry. All of it. Still Dad kept going.
“He must’ve gotten the brains from your family, Julie,” Dad said, “Seriously, it’s a good thing you were pretty when you were younger, or you wouldn’t even have gotten this far.”
“Have you been drinking, dear?” Mom asked.
“Only a little while I’m waiting for my flight,” Dad said, “OK — I’m going to go. 12:30, don’t forget. I’ll text you when I’m boarding.”