Taking Liberties

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Son can't help but touch Mom while she's sleeping.
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blaster666
blaster666
4,062 Followers

My buddy Mike followed me into my apartment for one last brew before calling it a night. We were both a little unsteady, him more so, after hanging out at the bar unsuccessfully trying to score some tail. I went straight to the kitchen totally oblivious to anything around me in my quest for a couple of frosty ones. I should've paid more attention to my surroundings. I stepped back into the front room holding two long necks of Bud and stopped dead in my tracks, alarm bells blaring in my brain. He was standing by the couch with his eyes bugging out of his head, and he had the biggest shit-eating grin on his face that I've ever seen. Stepping over to him I absently handed over one of the beers while glancing down to see what he was staring at. There was no doubt in my mind that my eyes bugged out a little too. Sprawled out on the couch was my dear sweet, nearly naked, fifty-two year old Mother Betty Thomas-Freeman. Thomas was her maiden name.

"Damn it, not again," I muttered under my breath.

I knew right away what was going on. Once again she'd taken her Ambien and judging by the empty wine glass thought it wasn't working, so she'd added a little alcohol to speed up the process. She had done this before, but tonight was different. Tonight she was lying there on her back with her thin pink cotton housecoat on, the buttons down the front completely undone. Now I will admit that my Mom is no super model by any stretch of the imagination, but she is a very attractive woman in her own right. Like the rest of the women in her family she's tall, almost five-nine in her bare feet. She has shoulder length black hair with just a hint of grey in it. As Mike and I were discovering she also has a very nice figure; slender waist, wide soft hips and some fairly firm breasts that were well over a handful. They were capped with small dark brown areolas and nipples that stuck out so far they begged to be sucked. She had on a pair of white cotton panties that didn't quite hide the thick triangle of black pubic hair lurking underneath. Unable to control it I felt my dick start to swell in my pants.

"Dude, your Mom's totally wasted," Mike snickered before adding, "And fuckin hot too!"

"Watch your mouth fuck-nuts!" I snapped at him but didn't move to cover her up or anything.

"Be cool dude...I'm just saying is all," he replied never taking his eyes off her.

Snapping out of my trance I took his upper arm and told him it was time for him to go.

"Oh come on pal, can't we just look a little longer? She's so toasted she'll never know," he protested as I steered him to the door and practically threw him out into the hallway.

Since he lived right down the hall from me I wasn't worried if he'd get home okay. I was more worried about the erection growing in my pants as I went back over and stood looking down at Mom. "Damn, she is pretty hot," I told myself gazing down at her and sipping on the beer while my other hand absently rubbed the front of my jeans. She'd done this a couple of times now in the short week since her arrival, but she'd always been clothed. Tonight she was slumped on the couch almost obscenely with one arm flung above her head and the other one dangling over the side of it, her fingers still curled around the stem of the wine glass. I was amazed at how relaxed her face looked. As I stood there staring at her nakedness she groaned then spread her outer leg until the foot fell off the couch and landed on the floor. Her knee opened outward giving me an unobstructed view of her crotch. Tiny tufts of black hair curled out the leg openings of her panties. My cock continued to grow.

I have never seen my Mother naked before; sure, there were the times while I was growing up that I'd seen her in her bra and panties. But this, this was a whole other ball of wax altogether. I knew I should be feeling guilty and disgusted with myself for staring at her, but oddly I didn't. Instead I found myself more aroused than I'd ever been before. The very fact that the nearly naked lady on my couch was my own Mom somehow made it all the more intoxicating. I'm not ashamed to admit that I've had a fascination for Mom ever since I can remember. In my heart I was sure most guys did, to some degree at least. I just wasn't sure how far I would be willing to take mine. A tiny evil thought crept into the back of my mind as I tried to figure out what to do about this situation. Should I wake her and have her find out that I'd seen her half naked? Or should I just cover her up and go to bed? Or, I could do what I was doing right now and stand here leering at her while all eight inches of my cock crept down my pants leg. Like Mike had said, she'll never know. The evil little thought came up with something else all together.

Placing my beer on the end table I knelt down in front of the couch and studied her sleeping face. I wanted to be sure that she was really out before doing what my little head was telling me to do. Her breathing was regular and steady so I turned my attention to those quarter-inch nipples poking out. Leaning closer to the nearest one I blew a warm soft breeze over it. I wasn't sure if it was my imagination or not but it sure looked like it stiffened. I was sure however when I did it again and her areola crinkled pushing the nipple further out. The urge to suckle it was almost overpowering. I scooted back away not sure I could trust myself not to clamp my lips on the ripe nub. Another idea flashed through my head after I forced myself to stand. Sidestepping further down the front of the couch until I was even with her hips I leaned over placing my nose almost in her crotch. My legs grew weak as I inhaled her musky aroma. Reason and sanity flew out the window. Hesitantly I reached out and lightly placed the palm of my hand on her mound. I could feel her warmth flow into my hand and also the mass of her bush under the panties. Watching her face for any sign that she was waking up I slowly pushed my hand down until my fingers slid between her thighs. The feel of her pussy under my fingertips had me reeling with a desire so strong that I was afraid I might just rip her panties off and plunge my hard throbbing cock as far into her as I could. Fortunately for me she chose that moment to let out a soft moan. Yanking my hand off her sweet softness as if it were a branding iron I staggered back away from her and held my breath. The thought of my Mother waking up and catching me fondling her snapped me back to reality. I went and grabbed a blanket then carefully covered her up.

Normally, since I live in a one-bedroom apartment, I would have been the one sleeping on the couch. When she first arrived I had had a hard time convincing her that she should take the bed, but after a lot of hee-hawing she had finally agreed. Tonight I had no intentions of doing what I'd done the previous times she'd zonked out in the front room. There was no way that I was going to wake her and help her stagger to the bedroom. No way in hell was that happening, not with my cock in the state of arousal that it was in. On my way to the bedroom I made a quick, and I do mean quick, detour into the bathroom where I hosed the toilet bowl down with the biggest wad of spunk I'd ever shot. After stripping down to my boxers I lay in bed staring up at the ceiling with visions of Mom's mouth-watering nipples prancing around my brain. One more trip to the bathroom allowed me to finally drift off to dreamland.

When I woke the next morning I wasn't surprised to find my dick a little sore after the mauling I'd given it. After a stop in the bathroom, this time to relieve my bladder, I made my way to the small kitchen where the smell of coffee was coming from. Mom was standing at the sink rinsing a cup out still dressed in her pink robe. It was obvious by the way it hugged her hips and butt that it was fully buttoned, but that didn't stop me from visualizing the white cotton panties underneath. I had to remind myself to stop thinking like that since all I had on were my boxers. Stepping over beside her I ran my hand over her shoulder blades briefly and said good morning before pouring myself a cup.

"Good morning sweetie," she replied.

There was something in her voice that had me worried. I knew it wasn't because I was only wearing my underwear, she'd seen me dressed this way plenty of times. The thought that maybe she had been awake after all last night when I was taking liberties with her soared to the front of my brain. I dismissed that notion on the grounds that I was certain she would have jumped my shit the moment I'd walked into the kitchen. No, it wasn't that, but as she came over and sat down it was obvious she wanted to say something. I didn't have long to wait to find out what it was.

"Gary?"

"Yeah Mom?"

"I'm not sure how to ask this," she hesitantly whispered.

"What Mom?" I asked, dreading her answer.

"Well...when I woke up this morning the buttons on my robe were undone. Honey, did you undo them?" I could see an odd look in her soft brown eyes as she gazed at me waiting for an answer.

"No, they were that way when I got home," I stated flatly, dipping my eyes downward and feeling the heat rise on my face.

"But you did see me, uh...?" she asked without finishing.

"Uh huh," I whispered finally looking back up at her.

"God, I'm so embarrassed," she said bringing her hands up to hide her face.

"Don't be Mom."

"Well I am."

"As I said, don't be. But if it'll make you feel better I will tell you this. Whatever you're doing to stay in shape is definitely working," I chuckled.

"Gary Allen Thomas!" she gasped, her face flushing a nice pink color.

"I'm sorry Mom, but it's not my fault that you have such a nice figure," I teased her.

"Thanks, I guess. Just remember I am your mother, and a married woman to boot," she laughed.

Yeah, you're married alright, but for how much longer I wondered. That was the reason she was here in the first place. She told me her and my step-dad had gotten in a fight over something, she wouldn't elaborate about what, and she needed some time away from him. My biological father had split before I was born leaving Mom to raise me on her own. She'd done the best she could with what she had, which wasn't much most of the time. There had been a spattering of "Uncles" over the years that kept us fed but none lasted more than six months at a time. That ended after she met Jack Freeman when I was fifteen. He was eighteen years her senior but he treated her good and seemed to tolerate me more than the other men in her life had. They married shortly after meeting and were still married twelve years later. Until she'd showed up at my door I had been under the impression that everything between them was peachy.

Interrupting my thoughts she said, "Speaking of married, when are you going to settle down?"

"Just as soon as I find a woman as pretty as you Mom, so probably never," I answered.

"I'm flattered. But seriously, you're twenty-seven years old, it's time for you to settle down," she persisted.

"So what's the deal with you and Jack, the old guy run out of viagra?" I off-handedly remarked hoping to change the subject.

"That wasn't very nice baby. But if you must know, you're not too far off," she replied with a soft chuckle.

"Oh really? So what's the problem, one of you isn't putting out?" I teased.

"Gary!" she squealed.

"Come on Mom, we're both adults here. I'd tell you if I needed help in the boudoir."

"I don't need any help in the boudoir thank you kindly, my boudoir is just fine," she replied haughtily.

"Then what's the problem?"

"The problem is my boudoir hasn't seen any action in well over two years," she confided softly.

"Two years! Damnnnn! I'm sorry Mom, I wish there was something I could do to help you," I blurted out before realizing the implications of what I'd just said.

"What are you suggesting Gary?" Mom asked while giving me the strangest look.

"Oh shit...I didn't...I mean I wasn't saying that you and I should..." I blubbered, my face hot.

"I know you weren't, although, if you weren't my son..." Her voice trailed off to a whisper.

"And just what are you suggesting Betty?" I asked, deliberately using her given name.

"I wasn't suggesting anything. I was just thinking is all," she said softly, blushing just a little.

"About?" I persisted, curious.

"I was just thinking that if I took a lover, the prospect of it being someone like you wouldn't be too bad."

"Like me?" I could see she was getting frustrated.

"You know what I mean. Oh hell, how did we even get on this conversation?" she stammered.

"It's okay Mom. But just for the record, if I were your lover you sure as hell wouldn't be going without." I flashed her my best lady-killer smile while I raised and lowered my eyebrows rapidly.

Laughing hard at my antics she said, "That's just the way life is honey, I've learned to adapt," I don't think it dawned on her what she'd just clued me in on.

Hmmmm, okay, Mom masturbates. At least that's what I thought she'd meant. No big deal, I do too when the need arises.

"Listen Mom, I'm sorry for prying, so how about I make it up to you and take you out to dinner tonight," I told her.

"You don't have to do that baby. Besides it's your last day off, wouldn't you rather spend it with your friends?" she asked, getting up and walking over to the sink.

Following her I took her by the shoulders and gently turned her till she was facing me. The look on her face was priceless when I told her there wasn't anyone else I'd rather spend my time with than the prettiest woman on the planet. She put her arms around my waist and pulled me into her in a warm embrace. The look on my face was probably priceless too as I felt her soft breasts under her thin robe press against my chest. Her and I were almost the same height so when I felt the bulge in my boxers rub up against her mound I awkwardly pushed away from her with a lame excuse of having to use the bathroom. The glint in her eyes told me she wasn't buying it but she didn't say anything as I walked away. Before I got too far I spun around.

"You know what Mom, how about we just make a day of it?" Her warm smile was all the answer I needed.

The day went great. We ate an early lunch followed by a matinee showing of the latest chick-flick to hit the screen. After that we spent some time window shopping and browsing through what passed as an art gallery. Around five we had a light dinner, a few drinks and arrived home just after seven. We finished the day off snuggled together on the couch watching reruns of reruns. When it was time to go to bed she kissed me on the cheek and said she hadn't had so much fun in a long time. As far as I could tell she hadn't taken any of her Ambien. The subtle smell of the perfume she'd worn lingered on the couch long after I fell into a deep restful sleep.

I woke the next morning to the sounds of humming coming from the kitchen. The smell of fresh coffee was in the air also. Dragging myself off the couch I went straight to the kitchen before I took care of my bladder, not realizing I was sporting some impressive morning wood. My morning wood grew a little thicker when I reached the kitchen and saw Mom at the sink. She had her back to me and it looked as if she were washing out something in the sink. She was humming some melancholy tune while she went about her task. I remembered she use to hum that very same tune when I was younger. What she was wearing had my dick in an uproar.

For some reason she'd taken one of my white wife-beater undershirts out of my dresser and was now wearing it instead of her pink housecoat. Normally it wouldn't have been a problem, except somehow she'd managed to find the one shirt that was completely worn thin and totally stretched out of shape. The armholes drooped so low that I caught glimpses of the sides of her breasts each time she raised and lowered her hands out of the sink. The length of the shirt wasn't much better either. It stopped just short of reaching the tops of her panties. A pair of powder-blue bikini style ones that hugged her wide hips deliciously and were almost see-thru. I could clearly make out the crack of her ass through them. Until this moment I had no idea my mother had such a fine butt. Calling out good morning I stepped up behind her placing my hands on her hips and gently kissed her on top of her shoulder. I felt a little shiver run through her as I did.

"Oh good you're just in time to help me with this," she said, lifting her hands out of the soapy water and raising them up in the air. Grasped in her fingers was her pink housecoat.

"What do you need me to do?" I asked stepping to her side and getting a wonderful view of most of her right breast through the droopy armhole.

"See if you can wring most of the water out of this for me while I get a hanger."

"Okay." Taking the wet garment from her I began twisting it tightly from the neckline to the hemline.

She came back just as I finished getting as much water out as possible. Handing me the hanger she said that if I would hang it in the shower she'd fix a cup of coffee for both of us. With a big smile she also said that while I was in there I might want to take care of that. I wasn't sure what she meant until she looked down and nodded toward my crotch. I glanced down and nearly crapped myself. My dick had worked its way out the slit in my boxers and was pointing straight out in front of me. Way out in front of me.

"Shit!" I coughed, making a hasty retreat from the kitchen. When I got back she was at the dinette sipping her coffee, another cup was across from her waiting for me.

"Sorry bout that," I mumbled taking a seat and avoiding eye contact.

"Things happen baby, don't beat yourself off...I mean up about it." Her laughter rang throughout the tiny kitchen.

"Very funny, ha ha," I grumbled and began drinking the coffee.

"Ahhh don't get mad, I was just funning with you," she giggled, then said teasingly, "And HOORAH to the lucky gal who snags you!"

"Mom!" I barked before breaking down and laughing too.

We finished our cup at the same time so she volunteered to get us some more. Don't get hard, don't get hard, don't get hard I mentally commanded my penis as my eyes watched Mom's butt swish back and forth all the way over to the counter. I really had to grit my teeth when she turned and headed back. Her tits swung freely with each step she took and the visible black triangle of pubic hair under her panties beckoned to my eyes.

"Excuse the way I'm dressed. I spilt my first cup of coffee down the front of me," she said apologetically as she retook her seat.

Since she'd screwed with me first I thought I'd see if I could get a little payback.

"You didn't burn yourself did you?" I asked, trying to sound alarmed.

"No, thank God," she replied.

"Are you sure? Because if you did I'm sure I have some lotion around here somewhere I could rub on it. I mean it's not like I haven't seen the girls before" I told her as straight faced as I could.

Mom was a fast learner.

"You'd like that wouldn't you?" she chuckled. She chuckled even harder when she saw the big smile on my face.

"No sweetie, if I need anything rubbed on "the girls" I can reach them myself. See!"

With that she reached down and cupped her hands under her tits and raised them up then squeezed them together. The dark brown nipples seemed to wink at me from under the thin material of the white wife-beater. Awww shit, so much for not getting hard.

Halfway through my third cup it dawned on me that I was sitting here quietly gazing at her face. She was sitting there with her eyes glued to an old magazine she'd found lying around while sipping her coffee. She looked so peaceful right now. My heart filled with love for the woman who had always been there for me when I was growing up. Not only was she the person who had kissed my boo-boos and made them all better, she was also my confidant, my mentor, and most importantly, my best friend. There wasn't anything I wouldn't do for her and I hoped that she knew that. In my heart I was sure she did. The idea of how I could make her life more enjoyable had been stewing in my brain since we'd sat down.

blaster666
blaster666
4,062 Followers