A Mother and Son Journey Ch. 01

I can always remember being vaguely attracted to my mother. Dam, after all these years, I finally said it out-loud. After all, she was the first woman I ever knew. However, I don't think I even realized my own deep desire for my mother until one spring day. I was eighteen years old and getting ready to graduate high school. Like most guys my age, I was more focused on the girls I saw every day parading around my local high school. Their tight sweaters in the winter and short-shorts in the spring were the focus of my after school fantasies. At that point in my life I had already fooled around with one or two girls. I had felt a girl up under her shirt and had some heavy make-out sessions. I still could not imagine going all the way. In retrospect it was beyond my maturity level. Having sex was something I wanted, but it was still something that I could not yet really imagine doing.

Having sex was something that seemed so far away from me. Instead, I spent hours masturbating. I had a two to three times a day habit. I thoroughly enjoyed my alone time.

During that last year of high school my friends and I began trading adult movies. Most of these jerk-off movies were your typical scenes of actors getting it on. I can remember the excitement of first watching these tapes, but quickly realized that these really were just actors and real sex was not like that at all. The moaning, panting and orgasms were all a ruse. One day that all changed. Mark, my best friend, had lent me a video. It had no title so I could not guess what kind of pornographic feast awaited me. All I know is that I had a tough day and needed some alone time to relax and relieve the stress. After school, with the tape in my backpack, I ran home. All signs were go. I had the house to myself because my mom worked until supper time and my father was away on business. I grabbed a drink and quickly made a snack.

I threw the tape into the VHS player and hit play. The screen went dark and I remember being curious about the title, Taboo II. Before I knew it, I was mesmerized. The parts that I found especially erotic were the mother-son story arcs. Honey Wilder and Kay Parker were two of the sexiest mothers I had ever seen. While Kay had the most luscious natural tear-shaped breasts and a beautifully full bush, Honey had an attitude that was both comforting and sexy at the same time. I wanted both to be my surrogate mothers. I could not believe that they were acting out these amazingly primal and hot scenes. I watched that movie so many times that it had become imprinted on my brain long after I gave that tape back, I continued to jerk off to Kay and Honey over and over again. They were the only objects of my desire until that summer. The seeds of mother and son love were planted just out of my consciousness.

As a yearly tradition, my father, mother and I would take a week-long summer exodus to the beach. It was something I always enjoyed, but as an older teenager I was worried that I might become easily bored. Unfortunately there would be little privacy to jerk my always hard cock. Without frequent relief I would be cranky and edgy.

After a long drive and getting settled into the vacation house it was finally time to hit the beach. Almost immediately I hit the water. It was good to feel the cold salty water wash over me and I felt like a million dollars. In the distance, walking towards the beach, I could barely make out the figure of my mother moving towards me. I hardly even noticed until she moved closer to the water's edge. I remember that being the first time I viewed my mother as a real woman. The funny thing is that she was wearing a one piece bathing suit. I wish I could say it was super sexy, but it was not. I wish I could say that my mom was a real hottie, but she was not. Jill, my mom, was in her mid 50s. She had long dark hair with bits of gray. Her body was in typical mid-life form. Her legs were semi-thick and her breasts definitely had a good deal of sag. Her stomach was not flat. I could tell my mom's behind had more than a little jiggle. Most guys would not even notice my mom. The thing I got my attention was how she moved and how her wide hips swayed back and forth. As she stood right in front of me and we were up to our thighs in water, I took a mental snapshot. It hit me. To me, my mom was now officially sexy and I felt guilty about this realization. It was one thing to think about Kay Parker and Honey Wilder, it was another to actually think that your own mother as an object of desire.

During the first night at the beach after mom and dad went to bed, I retired to my room. I settled into bed prepared to greet the now familiar thoughts of Kay and Honey. Instead, I could not get the image of my mother out of my head. Reluctantly and with hesitation, I began pleasuring myself to the visage of my mom in her black bathing suit. My first fantasy was simple and quick. We were splashing and being playful at the edge of the water. I was trying to wrestle mom into the water and that's when I got my first feel of my moms' soft and curvy ass. In my mind it was like a soft and warm pillow. It greeted my hand with the perfect amount of giggle. I gave it a quick and loving squeeze. On my back in the dark, my penis reached full firmness in record time. Stroking myself never felt so good. That image was all it took. Long rope cords of cum splattered on my flat stomach. I never came harder. I was both proud and ashamed of the mess I made.

All week-long my mother wore that one piece bathing suit during the day and into the early evening. It was especially wonderful to watch her as we would grill on the porch. The cold air would give her goose bumps and just the right amount of erectness to her nipples. I would have her when I was alone in my room. During the days it became more difficult to hide my desire. Whenever I could, I took little peeks here and there. I wish I could say something magical happened between my mother and I, but there was nothing of the sort. The week went by quickly. My mother had become a daily habit.

Once back home for the summer vacation, I did notice was that mom was paying me a bit more attention. When my dad was not home we had more talks. Before my summer job my mom would greet me in the kitchen in her white fluffy robe. I swear I saw her lick her lips after eating a piece of toast and jelly and give her hips a little exaggerated sway as she walked away from me. Even if my mom was interested, what could I do about it?

On my nineteenth birthday my life started to change. My father had to work and my mother and I decided to spend the day together. I could choose to do anything within reason. Since I was working so much, I just wanted to go to the pool and relax. I also just wanted to see my mother in her black bathing suit. The morning of my birthday we left for the town pool. It was a glorious day. The sun was out and I had the company of what I now considered the sexiest woman. I distinctly remember being in the shallow end of the pool talking with my mother. The back to the suit scooped down to her mid-back. She was taking an opportunity to get to know me better. I was trying not to be obvious as I stole glimpses of her body. The subject quickly turned to girls. My mother wanted to know what I looked for in a woman. She seemed proud when I gave her all the "right" answers. Just to test the waters, no pun intended, I went on to explain that I did not go for the kind of girl with the perfect body. Instead, I told her that I liked real women with real curves. I am sure I was blushing. My mother just smiled and nodded her head. I was happy that she was not teasing or making fun of me. I felt very close to my mom and we went home.

The day after my big birthday I stumbled downstairs for breakfast. To my utter surprise mom was in her bathing suit. I thought for a moment that my eyes were lying to me.

"Hey baby, good morning," my mom cheerfully spoke.

I sputtered out a quick good morning in return.

"I think that I am going to hang out in the backyard and get some sun, yell if you need anything," mom gently relayed to me in her sing-song voice.

Through the window over the kitchen sink, I watched her get comfy in the lounge chair. Slowly, without even thinking, I eased down my zipper and started pleasuring myself while watching my mom. I held the top half of my body completely still and she could not see what was going on because the window was blocking the bottom half of my body. She had her sunglasses on and her chest heaved with every breath. When she moved her thigh up to put some sun lotion on, I lost it. I looked down to find a fresh and hot puddle of sperm in my hand. I felt like I had really crossed a line now. When I was finished my mom caught a glimpse of me and flashed a smile and a wave from across the backyard.

The day moved slowly and I felt fortunate for what I had experienced. It had been a once in a lifetime experience. However, the next day I came downstairs bright and early to find my mom in a pair of short shorts, a t-shirt, and a brimmed hat. She promptly poured me some coffee and told me that she would be out in the back doing some gardening before it got too hot. Like the day before, I found myself watching my own mother out of the back window. She was on all fours pulling weeds. My mom's thighs were shaking as she moved and she would wiggle as she crawled across the lawn. There was something sexy and innocent in what she was doing. I would have given anything to slide up behind her and show her what I really wanted to do with her.

Instead, my hand reached into my own shorts and took advantage of the situation. My heart was pumping and my penis was as stiff as a teenager could get. Next came the tightness in my balls and then the relief of an explosion. I had given a white sticky tribute to my mom. After I had cum onto my own hand, my mother caught another glimpse of me. She gave me a smile and wave. She added in a wink too. I instinctually waved back, cummy hand and all. Luckily she was too far away to see the evidence of the crime.

I remember wondering how long my good fortune would hold out and how many times I would be able to jerk off looking at my mom in plain daylight. It sure beat the images in my head. On the third day I came downstairs in the morning to find my mom in gym clothes. She was wearing a red sports-like halter top, spandex bicycle pants, and shinny white tennis shoes. As like before, she handed me a cup of coffee and told me she would be in the backyard. Mom was starting her new exercise program and I was going to benefit from her workouts. With a coffee cup in one hand, I undid my zipper with the other. Standing behind the sink and looking out, I began my new ritual. As I watched my mom start her jumping jacks, I began mumbling out-loud how hot she was. My face could not hide the expression of passion. I played with my balls as my mom stretched to the right and to the left. Her large floppy breasts responded to every one of her bounces. Her midriff was exposed. That stomach with just the right amount of pudge really turned me on. There was no way a woman her age should have been wearing what she had on. I erupted. My mom saw me drinking coffee, gave me a smile, wave, and wink. I responded with a wave of my-cum filled hand and then almost by accident put a finger in my mouth to taste myself. My mom's eyes bugged out. At that moment I knew that she knew exactly what was going on and that she was enjoying this little ritual.

The day dragged on like no other. My head was filled with questions, ideas, and fantasies. I needed to know what if anything would happen next. The next morning I made my way to breakfast and was already fully erect. I was astonished to find my mother in her one piece black bathing suit. I guess she had given up exercising and gardening. She handed me a cup of coffee, but made no moves toward the backyard.

"So Mom, are you headed to the backyard this morning for some early sun," I asked.

"No," came her curt reply, "I think I will just stay here with you and enjoy your company."

I am sure I blushed. I also tried to make up excuses why she should head to the backyard. She resisted and even accused me of trying to get rid of her. However, my mom was moving around the kitchen in a different kind of way. She was exaggerating every physical movement.

I could smell her subtle perfume and was anxious to have my morning jerk off. It was getting late and I knew I had to leave for work soon. I felt sad and disheartened that maybe our little ritual had come to an end.

Just as I was about to leave mom broke the silence with a sarcastic, "are you sure you are ready to go to work, it feels like you are forgetting something."

I knew what she was getting at. Once she said that, she leaned in towards me. The valley between her breasts was so close. I was mesmerized by the tops of her milky white breasts.

Nervously, I looked at her and like diarrhea of the mouth, profusely apologized. "I am so sorry I did what I did over the past three days," I stammered, not knowing what else to say. I cracked under the pressure and did not know how to handle the situation.

The response I got was an overwhelming surprise, "What things honey, things like masturbating in the kitchen when I was outside?"

I stammered with a quick, "yes."

Without missing a beat she responded with a sardonic, "It's ok, honey, I don't mind, but from now on no peeking at mom, if you are going to do that kind of thing, you have to do it like a grown up. You have to do it in plain view, no hiding or sneaking around," mom said in a confident and raspy voice. But I was late and as much as I did not want to go, I had to leave for work.

That day moved like molasses. My dad was home when I got back from work and I was scared shitless. As much as I wanted to, I could not just pull my pants down and jerk off in front of my mom. For the next week my mom greeted me in the kitchen every morning in her bathing suit. Some days she would bend to pick things up and other days she would sit with her legs crossed to show off her beautiful thick thighs. Finally, one day the tension was too much for me to take. My mom was talking to me about some plans for the weekend and I had to make a move. It was the scariest thing I had ever done. Ever so hesitantly, I moved my hand over the crotch of my shorts. My heart was beating in my throat. Mom did not respond. She just kept talking. Tentatively I began rubbing myself very slowly in a way that could be interpreted as just scratching an itch. Because she did not reprimand me, I picked up the pace. Mom stopped talking and just stared at me. In a few short moments that felt like an eternity, I came in my pants with only a whimper. Confused and embarrassed at what I had done, I ran upstairs to change and go to work.

The next day was Saturday and my father left early for a round of golf. I eagerly headed for the kitchen in my shorts and t-shirt. Mom greeted me in her bathing suit which was like a signal that all was good to go. As I was seated mom was talking and chatting like usual. After a few moments I placed my hand where it had been the previous morning. I started moving my palm across my clothed penis. This time I was going to try to enjoy the experience fully. My eyes roamed my mother's body. I was a little less shy now and took quick note of the wet spot between her legs. Seeing the wet honey spot between her legs was like a shot of confidence.

In one steady motion I unzipped my fly. Because I did not want to make a mess in my boxers, I was not wearing underpants. Mom let out an audible gasp as my penis flung free. There was no turning back now. She eyed the thick vein running down the length of my shaft. She took in the large purple mushroom head topping her own boys' member. Automatically I started making love to my cock with my hand. I was a horny sexual animal. Words between us were not spoken. There was only the soft slap- slap-slap-slap sound of my hand moving up and down on my manhood. We were the only people in the world and I felt like I was showing my mother some special secret that I had discovered. The fact that my mother was watching me stroke my cock was too much.

I could not hold back. and shot a loving load in appreciation of my mother. Even after I had discharged, I could not stop stroking myself. My mother smiled at me and took a sip of coffee. I sat at the kitchen table with my shorts at my knees ready to eat a home cooked breakfast. Could life get any better?

Chapter 2 to follow