Mom Coaches Me in Writing Erotica

The next one was the vacation theme. Room mix-up, only a single queen-sized bed, mom's sexy bikini, fleeting nudity in the hotel room, drinks and flirtation on the dance-floor, goodnight kiss in bed, mother feels son's erection, sex. I took more time with this one and the rating settled in at just under 4.20.

"Quite an improvement Steve. Your style is much better but I felt like I was reading a pastiche of several other mom-son vacation stories. But that is one of my favourite sub-genres so I enjoyed it. Got quite aroused in places. Well done."

I blushed. She really didn't need to mention her arousal, but it was flattering to hear.

For the next one I opted for the naked mother theme. She's a former hippie, once lived on a commune, decides she wants to return to naturism when the son turns 18. Eventually he goes au natural too. Embarrassed by his frequent erections. Reassured by his mother that it happened on the commune too and it's a sign he's a healthy young man. She takes the commune lifestyle further and they start smoking dope. One night after a naked dope-smoking session she reminds him that the hippie lifestyle also embodied free love. Sex.

It was my most popular to date scoring over 4.30. But my mother wasn't impressed.

"Steve, you used our real names!"

"Only first names Mom. Besides, I'm posting under a pseudonym and everyone will just assume I've made up the names."

"But what if someone we know reads this?"

"Mom, they'll just assume that it's a coincidence. I've read stories where the main character is Steve and I don't think they're about me."

"But in this one it's Steve and Sheila and you describe me, Sheila, as looking like Dyan Cannon."

"Well you do."

"So it is supposed to be about us!"

I really hadn't meant it like that. I'd used the names just to be flippant and was imagining the real Dyan Cannon as my mother. But I could now see how it came out differently. I staggered over an explanation along these lines but it wasn't getting me anywhere.

"Steve, I'd actually love to look like Dyan Cannon. And you're not the first to have noticed the resemblance. But she's prettier and shapelier. Now tell me. Is this story a subliminal request to see me naked? To have sex with me?"

I wasn't quite sure what 'subliminal' meant. So far as I could recall it never came up in Economics texts. But the second question was clarifying.

"No. With Dyan Cannon, the 70s version, sure."

She looked at me skeptically. "Are you being honest with me Steve? If I were to start undressing now you'd cover your eyes and tell me to stop?"

"Yes! I was thinking about Dyan Cannon. I'm sorry I used your name. Our names."

Looking slightly less skeptical, "Well that's a relief. I'd feel pretty strange knowing my boy who sees me every day was having lustful thoughts."

I was glad that was over but it did give me pause. I looked up 'subliminal' and now understood my mother's question. And I wasn't sure of the answer. First reaction, near-instinctive was No. But I wondered about my own thought processes. The real names was more like being smart-alecky. And the Dyan Cannon comparison just seemed to go with it. It wasn't so much the thought of seeing my own mother naked horrified me; it was more like seeing her and then resuming the normal home relationship. That didn't mean I'd want it to lead to sex. Far from it. Could Dyan Cannon just be Mom without all the Mom baggage? By now these questions were confusing me. Best to stop here. Oh, and the naked, hippie mom story came in at almost 4.40. By far my most popular and the third highest rated the day it appeared.

A Better Story

I tried a road trip with Mom story but as a couple of commenters noted, it was too much like my vacation post. They were right and the 3.90+ rating was probably generous. A roommates one was better and I was back in the 4.20 territory. But I felt like I was treading water and that every good plotline had been done. And done better than I could write.

Around this time my mother started getting more casual in how she dressed. Bathrobes not fully tied, light blouses and T-shirts with no bra, very short shorts and the like. One weekend night we were going to watch a late night movie. I was in a T-shirt and boxers which is what I usually wore to bed. She said she wanted to get changed and returned wearing a dark nightie with a thin mesh top. That left her breasts basically exposed. They looked to be around 38C or more with large round nipples. I felt a stirring.

"Whoa Mom, what's this?"

"Too risqué for you Steve?"

"It's just that I've never seen you in anything like that."

"I know. I always tried to dress modestly around you. Didn't want to weird you out. But I prefer casual and since you assured me you didn't hanker to see me naked, I reasoned that I could go casual without arousing carnal thoughts in you."

"OK Mom, but I'm not sure if this counts as casual."

She laughed. "Fair enough. But sometimes I like to dress sexy and there really isn't a big difference between the two. At least when it comes to how revealing the clothes are. Now can we watch the movie? Surely this outfit isn't too great a distraction?"

It was and it wasn't. I most certainly did NOT want to have sex with my mother but hey, tits! And from the glimpse I got, great looking ones too.

"No, I'm sure I can cope."

After that there was further escalation. Walking around in underwear. One day she was wearing skimpy panties that couldn't contain all her pubic hair. I noted it was black which must have come as a surprise to those lovers expecting dirty blonde. We had a habit of taking our morning showers about half an hour apart, hers first. One morning she must have lingered as I caught her returning to her room nude. It was only a look from the side and back but still, first one ever.

For another movie night she was dressed in a short bathrobe and sitting on the sofa with her feet up on the coffee table. I was on a chair at an angle from her. At one point the bottom of her robe slid and I could see she wasn't wearing underwear.

"Whoa, commando Mom?"

"Oh, you can't really see anything. Does it bother you?"

"No, not really. But I thought you'd want to know."

"Thanks. I hadn't realized and didn't give it any thought. I guess I wasn't expecting my son to be looking at his mother's pussy."

"Mom! I wasn't trying to look. I was just mentioning it, like the way you'd tell me if my fly was undone. Besides, how would you like it if I were sitting here with my goods hanging out?"

"Goods? Goodness! I don't know how I'd react. I'll just have to wait till happens to find out." And a deep throated laugh. This was too much for me so I started the movie.

Over the next few days I pondered these displays and her flirty conversation. I had no interest in responding but I noted how I felt chagrined when she was properly dressed. While I was sure she wasn't teasing me, sometimes it felt like a tease. That was when I decided to sort of tease back.

A while back my mother and I attended an out-of-town wedding. Most guests were staying in hotels but as we were family, we were staying with the parents of the bride. A day or two before the wedding some other relatives who thought they couldn't make it, decided that they could. So my aunt agreed to put them up too. The local hotels were already booked so my mother and I wound up on a double mattress in my Aunt's attic. It was hot and stuffy and we discarded the sheets and blanket. I was in boxers only and my mother was wearing panties and a flimsy top. I slept awkwardly, mostly on my side facing away from her because I didn't want her to see my erection. It wasn't because of her; more like 18 year-old hormones. Nothing happened but in my retelling for Literotica, it certainly would.

I didn't use her name this time but I kept with the Dyan Cannon comparison. In the retelling, my mother, er, Dyan, is tipsy when she comes to bed. She tells me she's had a wonderful night and wants a goodnight hug and kiss. In hugging me she feels my erection. "Oh, is that what was poking me on the dancefloor?"

She moves her crotch against mine and we dry-hump while we kiss. Then she stops. "Steve, it's so hot and stuffy in here and since it's dark, do you mind if I remove my clothes?" She does and we resume hugging with the occasional kiss. By now my cock had sprung out from its confines and she feels it on her upper thigh. "Oh, so much nicer in the flesh than through the cotton. Why don't you take them off."

Now it's naked embracing and I can feel her pussy rubbing my cock. My hand wanders down to cup her ass. "Steve, we're never going to get to sleep in this state." She slides up and when she slides back down, I'm in her. We fuck for an hour or so, switch positions a few times and finally cum together. Next morning she apologizes for getting carried away and asks if I'm alright. "It was the most wonderful, most glorious night of my life Mom." She smiles and reminds me that she enjoyed it too but it mustn't happen again. I leave it as a cliff-hanger ending in case I want to add a second chapter for when they're back home.

I got really enthused in writing it up and to my mild disgust, I actually got hard in writing my own story. Weird. I reread it several times and then sent it in. It appeared on a Friday morning so when I was in classes, I was certain that my mother would see it. Sure enough, when I got home...

"Steve! Is this really your latest?"

"Yes." I was dying to check out the rating and comments but that would have to come later.

"I thought that after describing me as your naked hippie mother you weren't going to do that again."

"Well, I didn't use your real name."

"No, but you used yours and described me, or the 'mother' as Dyan Cannon. And all the details of the wedding and sleeping arrangements are exactly, almost exactly, as they happened. Without the sex of course. What if someone in our family were to read this?"

"Aw Mom, they'd probably just think it was coincidence. Besides, it was a few years ago so they've probably forgotten the details."

"Well you're betting our reputations on that. And it's a bet with no payoff except for some anonymous ratings. But that's not my only concern."

"It's very difficult for me to accept that you DON'T have a sexual fantasy for me. The way you describe me, describe my body, describe how I was dressed, describe my pubic hair as being black even though I'm a dusky-blonde. Steven, you must have been thinking of me and not some Dyan Cannon fantasy mother."

She stopped and looked, as though I was going to make a clean breast of it in my reply. But I hadn't thought that far ahead. After all of her near-flashing and the racy talk, I just thought I was retaliating. I'd still been thinking Dyan Cannon but could those identities have blurred? I really wasn't sure now. My official position remained that in no way did I want to have sex with my mother. Admittedly it had been a while since I'd done a thorough re-evaluation of the Official Position. But to go from that to actually wanting sex with her? It was confusing. I was confused. But I knew I would never ask her, even if I eventually concluded that I might, sort of want it.

"Steve, I deserve an answer."

"Mom, I don't know where to start. You'd been dressing more freely and it sounded like there was some kind of innuendo on that commando night. I saw this post as kind of a 'back at you' response."

"Steven, that might all be very true but you're skirting the issue. We were in the very same situation and when you wrote about it you added sex. Pretty hot sex by the way. I don't understand how it could NOT have been me you were thinking about."

"Mom, I really don't know. I was..." I was afraid she had a point. I looked at her and tried to imagine her naked and us having sex. I still didn't like the idea but my cock was twitching.

"Well, there is a way to find out."

What? Truth serum? Lie detector?

"There is? How?"

"Re-enactment."

"Re-enactment?"

"Yes, you heard me. Tonight we'll go to bed together in my room. I'll turn up the heat and we'll wear what we were wearing in your story."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Was she offering, no, planning...?

"I'm not saying that anything will happen or that I'm promising or aiming at any particular outcome. But we need to know; I need to know if you're harbouring an Oedipal Complex. If you are, this could be 'the most wonderful, most glorious night of your life.' If not, we'll know soon enough and you can just go back to bed. So?"

I gaped, but realized I was expected to reply. I truthfully didn't know what I wanted. It sounded like an exciting situation but did I really want to risk having sex with my mother? If that indeed was a possibility. Which it must be for the scenario to make sense. If it were to happen I could probably get off on a Dyan Cannon fantasy. And if in the moment I was turned off, I could call a halt. If I refused right now, well, there'd be plenty of ongoing tension.

"I guess we could try it."

"Good. Now let's have dinner and watch a movie."

I don't remember a thing about the movie. I do remember my mother coming out in a short, diaphanous white nightie. Braless of course. It was very sexy and I had to admit, so was she.

"Hey, I don't remember anything so revealing from the wedding or from the story."

"We have to adapt for the circumstances. Before we got to bed there was some prior stimulation at the dance. I remember feeling your erection when we danced later in the evening. I pretended I didn't because I was certain you'd be embarrassed. So since we don't have a dance tonight, we needed an alternate stimulus." She glanced at my crotch and guilty erection. And I see the stimulus did the trick. Now let's watch the movie."

My erection never completely subsided. From time to time my mother would run her fingers through my hair or snuggle against me. Each contact roused my cock. Sometimes I looked over for a glimpse of her nipples. Finally the movie ended.

"Well sweetie, I'd say it's bedtime. You ready?"

I was on auto-pilot now and nodded. We got up and she took my hand. When we opened the bedroom door we almost got knocked over by the heat blast. It must have been 85.

"Whew. I think I overdid it. We'll leave the door open. Now you'd better get out of that shirt."

She turned off the light and we lay down side by side. I was nervous but excited too, not knowing what would happen.

"Thanks for doing this Steve. I know it couldn't have been easy. Now, can you give me a goodnight hug and kiss?"

I gave her a quick peck on the lips and hugged her. She moved on top of me and gave me a bigger kiss. "Steve, it's OK to kiss back."

I gave her a better kiss, putting my hand on the back of her head and moving my lips around. No tongue though. I was hard again and it pressed against her upper thigh.

"Oh, is that what was poking me five years ago on the dancefloor?" We both laughed, me nervously.

She moved her crotch against mine and we gently dry-humped while we kissed. Then she stopped. "Steve, it's so hot in here and since it's dark, do you mind if I remove my clothes?"

"No." It came out as a croak.

She straightened up, shucked off her nightie and moved back to hug me. Panty-less too I noted. This hug felt super-erotic. I ran my hands over her naked back and I could feel her breasts on my chest and her bullet nipples pressing into me. We kissed lightly and continued hugging. Her crotch was grinding against mine and I knew her pussy hair must have been right over my cock. I now wanted to kiss her very badly so I pulled her head to mine and began frenching her. She lashed her tongue around mine and she put bother her hands on my cheeks.

"Steve" she whispered, "it will feel nicer if you remove your boxers." With her help I did and we resumed necking with her naked body on mine. I was mega turned on and worried about coming. She may have sensed this.

"Steve, the next step, if we take it, is a very big one. You don't have to say anything but touch my ass if you want to continue."

It was like my hand was made of iron and her ass was emitting CERN Particle Collider level magnetic charges. I ran my hand all over her shapely ass. She kissed me once more, raised up, and came down; her pussy enveloping my cock. Fantasy Cannon or Mom – it didn't matter. I was in heaven and in her. Her pussy was way juicier than I'd imagined and I loved how her full breasts kept knocking up against my face.

She was pumping hard and fast and I was fervently multi-tasking. One hand stroking her ass; the other caressing a breast; my mouth moving between kissing her and whatever nipple was unoccupied; and keeping up with the cock thrusts. The orgasm came with little warning. An explosion like a bat out of hell which really wasn't the earworm I wanted at that time. I wasn't vocal in bed but gave out a mighty "Whoa!" when it hit. My mother gave a few more thrusts and she too came with a "Woo!"

She collapsed on me and we lay there panting. We were both sweaty which just seemed to add to the carnality. I thought she was going to get off me but then I felt these little squeezes on my cock. It felt funny at first but soon enough I was growing hard again.

"Oh Steven, that was even better than I imagined. I love feeling you inside me. Your COCK inside me." More squeezes.

I was in bliss. Another part of my brain, the part that can't form sentences, had taken over and all I could focus on was how wonderful it felt. It vaguely crossed my mind that if I could have such glorious sex now, I could have it again. That this wouldn't be the last time. And again was coming soon. My mother's squeezes had gotten me back to full erection and I snapped out of my reverie.

"Ready to go again love?"

I nodded. "Anytime Mom."

"Good. Young lovers are wonderful that way. Let's try doggy."

I slipped out of her and my cock was drenched. She got down on her hands and knees and guided me into her. "And Steve, you can play with my ass in this position."

I started thrusting and caressing her ass while she pushed back and fingered her clit. She was really making a squishing sound. I kept thrusting and caressing when she grabbed my hand and redirected it so I was touching her asshole. I'd read about anal play in Literotica but had never experienced it in real life. But my mother was giving me the best hands on experience anyone could want. I would have been happy to continue on but my mother had other ideas.

"There's another position I just love Steven. You sit on the edge of the bed and I'll sit on you." Fair enough. I liked this position. She slid down on me and I went in deep. She also had to bring her arms around my neck which brought us closer. "Oh Steve, this is a great position for playing with my ass too. You can even try putting a finger inside."

No sooner said than done. She was very wet and with some of her pussy juices I slipped a finger up her ass while we were pumping. I could feel my cock through her anal walls. We started kissing and her pumping got fiercer. I think she came once but we carried on. I was getting closer and called out "Mom, I'm going to...Ohhh!" She humped some more and made a guttural sound. My finger slipped out of her but I kept rubbing it around her anus. She made another yelping sound and relaxed. "I need a breather Steven."

We were lying there without speaking and she rested her hand on my spent cock. I put mine ion her wet mound of pubic hair.

"God, I can't remember when I've had such great sex Steven. By the way, was I your first?"

"No. Gina in high school."

"Oh. It would have been wonderful to have broken you in but it's probably better you started with someone your own age."