A Simple Domestic Love Story Pt. 03

That didn't last, either. My parents like to watch movies with us at least once a week. We all are supposed to eat dinner and talk and a lot of the time Dad picks bad movies on purpose so we end up making fun of it together. Its wholesome fun. So one night, I'd finished my homework and none of my friends were available. Mom had also been pressuring me to spend more time with everyone before I went to Caltech next year. So I did. Dinner was fine. More than fine. We all spoke openly about what was going on in our lives (well, mostly), we laughed at Dad's stupid jokes and Mom got us talking about things that were changing in her field of science. August told a long meandering story that ended with some of his friends almost accidentally getting arrested for armed robbery that still managed to be hilarious.

Then we went to the living room and things changed. We watched the first movie, which was kind of an action/thriller and we all enjoyed it. Then took a quick break. It was early so we all agreed we could watch another one. I went to make popcorn while Mom and Dad chose a new film and August made cocoa for everyone. It was literally an ideally wholesome family scene. Until a stupid, selfish little girl ruined everything.

When I got back the movie was already started and August had stolen my place on the couch. I was minorly annoyed that I had to sit on the floor, but no big deal. Mom was in the middle of the couch so I handed her the popcorn bowl. I don't know what possessed me, but I decided that I would not give up my place on the couch. Playfully, I decided to sit on Dad's lap, like I had when I was younger. I think the last time I did it was when I was thirteen. I stopped not because I got too big but because, even then, I knew that it would be weird.

He reacted with surprise but it didn't freak him out. I'm his only daughter. He let me cuddle up to his chest and put his arm around me, like he would have a long time ago. Maybe he thought I was just being his little girl one last time before I left home. That doesn't matter though.

I regretted doing it almost immediately, but I didn't move. I didn't move because it felt so good. It felt better than...well...almost anything. I was safe, surrounded by his scent, and heat. And I could feel his muscles in his arms and chest. And I knew that his cock was just underneath my leg. The room was dark, so no one could see the flush on my face. The movie was a loud superhero thing, so no one could hear my breath coming in shallow and quick. It was all I could do to stop myself from kissing my own father on his neck or running my hand on his face, chest and cock. It's what I was thinking about.

Then he shifted slightly and sat back farther. I adjusted myself. I told myself it was because I wanted to be comfortable. It would be ridiculous to think that it was because it let me move my ass directly over his cock. If he noticed, he gave no sign. But the thought that just a few layers of fabric was between me and my father's cock penetrating me was overwhelming. I was wet in minutes. It was driving me to distraction but I wouldn't leave. I couldn't. But I was so horny, so repressed, so...so fucking stupid. I let my hand fall into my lap, casually. And slightly parted my legs. And began to rub myself, on the outside of my clothes.

As time passed I grew more and more excited. I was barely keeping my hips from moving. That would certainly have alerted him...and maybe made him hard. As much as I would have loved grinding against him I was still thinking clearly enough to not do that. I quietly passed the point of no return. The place where I was no longer thinking clearly enough to stop myself. I timed things well enough that I climaxed at the same time as the movie. No sound escaped my lips, just a small sigh. My body didn't tense up, I just had a little shudder. That's it. I was even a little proud of my stealth orgasm skills. Then I looked up.

Mom was staring right at me. In the dark her look seemed to be accusatory. I'd honestly never seen that look from her before. Was it shock, fear, betrayal or sadness? I wasn't sure but I was certain that at that Moment I had broken at least my relationship with my mother. My eyes got big. I didn't hide my fear and shame. It must have been all over my face. And then, just to make things worse, my father did something.

My innocent and caring father, who had never treated me as anything but his precious daughter, must have thought that my shudder meant that I really was cold. So he pulled me closer. I saw Mom's eyes narrow. I don't know what she must have been feeling at that Moment, but it wasn't positive. I stood up, very quickly. So quickly I almost fell down. Dad looked up in shock.

"Julia, are you all right?"

His eyes were full of concern.

"Yeah, I just...um...headache. Going to bed."

And then I turned and almost ran to my room, closing the door and locking it before throwing myself on my bed. I left the lights off. I wanted to be in the dark with my sick shame. I didn't bother changing or taking a shower. I just sobbed myself to sleep, knowing what kind of person I was.

When I woke up I knew that I had to do something. I didn't know what, but I couldn't let this fester any more.

I would tell him. Yes. I would tell him. It would be embarrassing and maybe awful for a little while, but then it wouldn't be repressed. Maybe I'd have to go to therapy for the rest of my life or I'd have to move out early, but hey that sure beat living like this and feeling awful. I left my room in the morning feeling a little better. Depressed, but better.

Mom was right outside. Her arm was up, obviously about to knock. Her eyes changed from surprise to serious very quickly. I suddenly was aware that I'd never really seen my mother angry before. Annoyed? Sure. Frustrated? Occasionally. But angry? No. She could be intimidating. Was she about to yell at me? Kick me out? Push me into a wall? No reaction seemed inappropriate given that she had caught me red handed (ahem) masturbating in her husband's lap.

"We need to talk. I need to know what's going on with you."

"Mom, I...I can't right now. I have, um, chores. I've got to clean out the garage today..."

It was true, but lame. And cowardly. It was saturday, and I had promised to do some cleaning out there. But no one would get mad at me if I didn't do it, or if it were delayed a bit.

"Oh?" Mom said softly. "Are you doing that for your father?"

The way she said "father" was alarming in and of itself.

"Um..yeah, actually. He asked me to. Last week."

Mom nodded.

"And tell me. Was last night for your father or for you?"

Jesus. This was too much. I couldn't deal with this. I felt actual nausea mixed with panic. I couldn't even face her. So I lied. Badly.

"Mom I honestly have no idea what you're talking about or why you're lurking outside my room. If you've got a problem with me doing...stuff...for Dad, maybe you should take it up with him. He is your husband, after all. In theory anyway."

And then I walked right by her. I made no attempt to move out of the way so I shouldered straight past her, practically pushing her out of the way. I wanted...no needed to see my father. Now. I needed to ask him for his help. Tell him everything. Beg him to help me fix the shit my stupid, sick lusts broke. But right now I couldn't. I went to the garage.

I couldn't get the glimpse of Mom out of my head. As I walked past, her eyes changed from anger, to shock, and then just...sadness...loss. Like she just lost her daughter. It was fucking awful.

I ran to the garage. I sorted and cleaned for hours. I got a lot done. I hid like a fucking coward.

After a few hours Dad dropped by and thanked me. Asked me if I needed any help. I told him "no, but" and then Mom came in. It was as if she were following him. She glared at me. Goddammit. Does she think I'm trying to be "the other woman"? Wait, was I? Was I actually being a homewrecker?

Fuck. I didn't know. I do know that when I first saw him I wasn't really thinking of confessing my feelings so as to repair my relationship with Mom. No, I was, specifically thinking about how he might react. Would he be interested? What if he said he thought about me too? And you know, those thoughts naturally led to me wondering what his cock would taste like. Confessing was out of the question.

I was fucking sick. I knew it. Mom knew it. It wouldn't be long before Dad and August knew, too. I had to get out of this house before I acted on it. I went back to my room and thought of the best ways to do it.

--- Augustus - The Same Time ---

I was so happy to not be going on that camping trip. For the first time in at least a month, I relaxed. I was around friends. Normal friends, with normal problems, who I trusted and loved. I would also get some alone time with Tara, who put the "benefits" in "friends with benefits".

Don't get me wrong. I kind of love the outdoors. I'd never tell them but going hiking with Julia or swimming in the river is just a great way to get away from everything. I sleep better and my imagination seems to be twice as vivid for weeks. I typically get some drawing in. So I wasn't really avoiding camping per se. I was avoiding my family. Specifically my mother.

And you might be asking yourself this question: "Is this self-professed angsty teen having an fight with his mother? Perhaps over girls or wrecking the car or listening to Nickelback?" To answer that question: She doesn't know I have a girl, I'm a way safer driver than Julia, and I would under no circumstances ever listen to Nickelback.

Nope. I get along with my Mom. She's great. I mean, she's smart. Probably the smartest person I know. She's nearly always cheerful and she's kind. Oh, and she's beautiful. Like she's gotta be in her forties, right? But she's worked out, run, whatever almost her whole life. Her entire body is toned and fit. And very well proportioned. Even her blonde hair kind of frames her face. I think she could have been an actress or something if that was what interested her.

And she loves me, for sure. She's always looked out for me, calls me her "sensitive artist". I pretend to be annoyed but...it's kind of nice. I mean I get along with Dad fine, nothing wrong there, but Mom and I are close. I can trust her with anything

So what's the problem?

I really, really want to fuck her.

Yes I know it's sick. I know. It's not really the worst of it either.

It started about a month ago. It was really sudden. I don't...I mean, ok, I knew she was attractive. I got a little tired of my friends talking about how much they want to bone her. Partially because its gross. Partially because I'm protective of her. Yeah I know she's an adult and can take care of herself AND Dad is no joke but its just gross of them. And now, of course, partially because I'm really jealous. But really, I just was grateful she was my Mom. Lots of people have shitty Moms. I have a good one. That was kind of enough.

As time went on, I started wanting to just spend more time with her. Still, nothing weird. I think she assumed that I was just maturing and was ok with hanging out with my parents again. Which I guess is true, but I was just...doing whatever. Going shopping and helping her carry stuff, running errands with her, helping her with her lesson material, even go running with her (if she'd go a little slower so I could keep up). And then when I go on the couch or outside to draw, she'd come and sit with me. Before I think i would have found having an audience annoying. But she was so quiet most of the time, and respectful, and she'd start doing some drawing too. Then we'd ask each other for feedback. It was really just...nice. And then I started drawing her. With her permission of course. She's a good model. Just her doing stuff, working at the table, whatever. It was all pretty innocent.

At first.

Then, one day, I was just wrapping up a essay. I was really starting to stress about the going to Oberlin next year. Excited, but it's a long way away and I was so afraid that I wouldn't measure up, that i'd have to drop out and come home. I was tired and hungry and to be honest kind of wanted to go back to my room and rub one out to some MILF porn. But first, i was hungry. So I went to the kitchen, all frustrated and distracted. And Mom came back from a run. Very normal stuff. She opened the door and I looked over to say hi. But she was dressed a little differently. Normally its longer running tights and some well fitting but long shirts. Not today.

Today it was unseasonably hot. So all she wore was some very small booty shorts and a sports bra. Not even a large one. And just like that, I was Aware of her. I saw her legs first. Sleek, long, let led up to her hips. They curved around to the best ass I have ever seen. I knew that it was muscular, but I could sense that it would still have a lot of give if I felt it in my hand. Her curves made a small hourglass up to her breasts. I couldn't believe how much her sports bra revealed. I could tell that they were just the right size for my hand. I could see the nipples which were small and hard, and there was generous cleavage visible, showing her soft, pale skin. And finally my eyes travelled down her belly, not a six pack, but defined very well yet somehow extremely feminine. Down to the camel toe of her shorts. Oh my god. I fucking had to know what her pussy looked like outside of those shorts. What it felt like. Did she get really wet? How did she taste?

This all happened in under a minute, I'm sure of that, but it felt like time had stopped and said, "Oh by the way, you're in love with your mother now. Have fun with that, buddy." She didn't notice my obvious ogling, and said hi when she saw me. She walked past me in the kitchen and got some water. As she did I could see that her skin, everywhere, shone with sweat. And then I caught her scent. Yeah, she'd been working out, and I'm sure she thought that she smelled disgusting, but I suddenly wanted to bend her over the table, and tear those shorts off. It was on a different level than anything i'd felt before.

She put her glass in the sink and left for the shower. I waited for about thirty seconds. I wish I could say that I didn't consider following her. I didn't even try to resist. I didn't end up seeing her naked though. Well, not then.

I was walking down the hall and I noticed that she didn't go into her bedroom, where they have a bathroom, but went down the hall to our guest bathroom. It doesn't get used a lot. I was curious. And I wanted to watch her shower. So I followed. I got to the door, and I was moving very quietly. It was only because I was moving so silently that I could hear her crying coming from inside.

I felt a very strong protective urge then, stronger than even my urgent hard-on. I knocked, knowing now that there was no chance of catching any glimpses.

"Mom? Are you ok? I heard...crying."

I heard what sounded like a very soft swear word from inside. It wasn't like her to hide her feelings but she was trying very hard.

"Yeah, I'll be out in a second."

Then she opened the door and I could see her eyes were red. She hadn't changed yet. What happened?

"Mom, are you ok? I mean...you can tell me anything, you know that right?"

She smiled. It was good to see.

"I'm fine, I just had a...a Moment there. It's nothing you need to worry about it."

Now she was lying to me. Mom may not tell you things, but she never lies. At least in my experience. Or there would have to be a very good reason for it. I knew that if i pushed, she'd just get defensive, she was like Julia in that way. I felt helpless for a second.

She stood there, unable to get past me. I stood there, unable to help. So, I hugged her. I would be lying if I said that I didn't enjoy the feeling of her warm body pressed against mine, her sweat soaking my clothes. But it was an honest hug. My Mom, the most wonderful woman in my life, was in pain, so I had to. It was the right thing to do at that Moment.

She made a little noise of surprise, but she hugged me back. Hard. I was suddenly aware not only of how her breasts felt pressing into my body, but also how small she was in comparison to me. I was confused as hell but I knew that i wanted to protect her and I wanted to have her, maybe roughly.

The hug lasted longer than normal. Longer than a reassurance. When she pulled away I did too. She looked a little better but I was still worried.

"If you can't talk to me...please promise me you'll talk to Dad or Julia, or someone, ok?"

"Don't worry so much about your mother. She can take care of herself. This just...happens sometimes, OK? But...I don't think a lot of sons would care that much. And I love you for it, ok?"

Then she kissed me. I'm pretty sure she meant to peck me on the cheek, but she had to go up on tiptoes to do it, and missed. She kissed me on the lips instead, briefly. I was stunned. She was too, so I could tell it was, in fact, an accident

She just said "oops" and walked away. I waited a Moment, then practically ran to my room. I still had her scent all over me, could feel her firm body against mine, her lips on mine. It was way too close to what I actually wanted. I took out my cock and it was over in just about a minute. The image of her in those clothes, bent over the table, or her legs wrapped around mine in the shower drove me over the edge fast.

When I was done I felt disgusted with myself, not least because of how vulnerable she'd been. I'd do better. Be better. For her if not for me.

But still. How did Dad ever get anything done with her around? How was he not constantly hitting that? How can I be using the phrase "hitting that" in reference to my own mother?

So I avoided Mom as much as I could, although it felt bad. I suspected she was still going through whatever had made her cry before. But I couldn't imagine a situation where I, for example, grabbed Mom's ass and then kissed her, that didn't end in me getting kicked out of my house and my family. And I thought of how much that would violate the trust of Mom and Dad. And jesus, Julia. We'd never admit it to anyone else, and we don't talk as much as we used to, but we're basically permanent bff's. I can't imagine how betrayed she'd feel if I'd hurt Mom in any way.

And when the camping trip happened to coincide with the school trip to D.C., I jumped at the chance to get out of there. And it was pretty fun. I love museums. And since Tara was there we could fool around a little. Nothing but handjobs for me and fingers for her, but still, way better than masturbating. She was a good friend too.

Then we came back. Things were a little odd. I noticed Mom was quiet and Dad was worried about her. But at least Dad was definitely aware something was going on there, so that made me feel better. And Julia was acting kind of odd, too. She asked to hang out with me a few times, and it was a lot of fun just doing stuff with her. A welcome distraction. But besides that she was out of the house a lot.

I ended up being around Mom a little more, gradually. I justified it because it seemed to cheer her up to have me near. And of course I just wanted to be near her. I have a lot of freehand drawings from this time of Mom, nude. She obviously didn't pose for me, so I couldn't be sure how accurate they were, but I can say that I drew her from life and then just sort of mentally removed any clothes. I had a million excuses as to why they might exist in case I was found out, but they were all lame. I jerked off constantly thinking about her. The way she felt, smelled. What her lips would feel like on my dick. I can honestly say that she became the prime figure in my fantasies, which were usually filled with an assortment of girls from school, actresses, and...uh...anime characters. Shut up.