You Couldn't Handle Me Ch. 01

"So you're gonna tease me? Taunt me?" I said.

"Of course, honey. Knowing that it makes you so crazy, so mad, makes it totally worth it." Mom laughed. "But it's like I said, what you want will never happen."

"I thought you said it would never happen, but you keep saying all these things and it makes me think you're telling me the opposite!" I said firmly.

"Honey, your mind is so mixed up with hormones that you're hearing what you want to hear. Don't twist things around in your head. I said what I said. And I meant it. I made myself clear." Mom replied.

"It would be easier to accept that if you weren't doing this." I said, pulling my feet away from hers. She smiled evilly, pushed herself away from the table and stood up.

"Fair enough." Mom said, taking her plate to the sink. "But you have to admit that what you want is a bit ridiculous. I mean, you want to 'hook up' with your own mother?" she said, turning to face me, arms in a questioning pose at her sides. I couldn't help but notice her large breasts jutting out in her slim top. "You want to get naked and sweaty with your MOM? You want to knock boots with Mommy? Ha." Mom said, running water over her dishes. "You may have cooked up some fantasy in your head that your mom is some, like, super-secret sex bomb dying to be unleashed. And that I totally, secretly want what you want. That I'm nice and horny and waiting for the right guy to take me. That I'm dying to get in bed and get nasty with my own son. But Tom... I'm just your mother. And that's all I can be with you. Tom, you're 18. You should be aiming for girls your own age, and not... women you're related to. We shouldn't even be discussing this."

"Well, you keep bringing it back up." I replied.

"Well, it's hard not talk about it." Mom began, turning off the faucet and looking back at me. "I mean, like, wow! My own son wants to have sex with me. I mean, it's nasty and disgusting, and obviously, like I said, it can never happen. But just... wow. This is pretty crazy. I didn't realize you were even capable of thinking about something like this. It is just filthy! Haha. Like, what do you want me to do? Flash my big boobs at you? Spread my legs and show you my pussy? Bend over and show you my bare ass? Maybe pull apart the cheeks and show you my butthole?"

"Mom!" I interrupted, not wanting to talk to her about this, but getting a thrill out of hearing her talk like this.

"Alright, alright, fine. I mean, I hear through the grapevine what all you guys are into these days, but I'll drop it. I get it, you're a meat and potatoes kinda guy. You don't mess around with all the fancy stuff."

"Mom, I... uh, I'm not saying that. I... I just want to drop it." I replied.

"Oh, so you do like the fun stuff." Mom replied. "I guess I should have figured, since you want to bone your own mom. I should have figured you had... advanced tastes. I didn't realize women like me were your type. I guess I might have to stop inviting all my hot friends over." Mom joked.

"Please, Mom. You made your point. Let's just... let this go. Please don't joke about this anymore." I plead.

"Aww, c'mon, hon. You're always such a shit talker." Mom replied. "You've got to be prepared to be on the receiving end once in a while."

"I'll tease my buddies about football and girls!" I replied. "I don't tease people when they share something that could be embarrassing if they're wrong."

"Aww, you're embarrassed. That's cute." Mom said, sauntering across the kitchen. "Well, if it makes you feel better, I appreciate the compliment. I appreciate hearing that an 18-year-old guy like yourself can appreciate that a woman my age can still be sexy. That's always nice to hear." As she said this, she ran her hand through my hair lovingly.

She sat down across from me at the table and looked at me, leaning forward slightly as she smiled warmly at me. I looked at her mockingly. There was no way Mom could be this modest. Mom was stupidly hot, and there was no way she didn't know that. Not with the way she acted, not with the way she dressed. She knew she was drop-dead sexy, she knew her body was out of this world and she knew that everyone knew it. I didn't know what Mom was trying to accomplish with this modest act, smiling innocently at her son hours after he confessed he wanted to fuck her. She held my eyes before letting them glance down at her own chest, guiding my eyes to look down at her, at her more exposed chest, with one more button undone, a greater expanse of cleavage exposed to me.

"Oh, c'mon Mom! Stop! Please!" I called out and she smiled wickedly. I was a mixture of turned on and angry. She wasn't gonna fuck me, but she was gonna tease me. Drive me wild. If any other girl did this I would be pissed. And this was no exception, so I was.

"That's messed up, you know that?" I said angrily. She winked at me. "This makes you happy? Taunting me, your own son? Teasing me?" I said, getting madder. She kept smiling. "You know what you're doing to me and you're happy about that? You don't do that to a guy. That's not cool." I said. She looked almost smug. "You're happy that you're gonna make me beat off as soon as I leave this table!" I said, quietly but angrily. This took the smile from her face.

"Well, do what you have to do, honey." she said, coldly, sitting straight up as if the game was over, as if I had crossed the line and gotten too real, buttoning up her blouse just as Dad came back in. I was angry for the rest of the meal, but I lived up to the words I told to Mom. I angrily jerked off as soon as I got back to my room, my mom's teasing having its desired effect as waves of cum shot from my throbbing cock.

************

"Fuck me, Tom. Do it!" Mom hissed, pulling her ass-cheeks apart. She was on all fours, on my bed. She was bare ass naked, and she was covered with sweat. Despite the fact that she was naked and so lewdly displaying herself to me, for some reason I couldn't see her good bits. I could not see her pussy. I could not see her asshole. It was like my eyes kept moving past them. And from the angle I was at, I could not see her tits. I tried to move around, but whatever angle I moved to, I could not see them bare.

"Can you sit up straight?" I asked, desperate to see her body.

"No! Just do it! Do it now! We don't have much time!" she begged.

"Fuck it." I mumbled, joining her on the bed. My hard dick leading the way, I got in position to fuck her. I guided my dick to where her pussy was, and I pushed forward. When I was a millimeter away, as I approached that moment where I would be inside her, where I could live out my dream... I woke up.

I shook my head as I reflected on the dream. I had that same dream many times and in every one Mom was nude. And in every single one, I never saw the goods. Even my own mind was against me. I looked down and noticed my throbbing cock. Mom-dreams always had this effect on me. Once again, I had to empty my balls to thoughts of her.

************

By the next morning, I had hoped her teasing had run its course and we could return to business as usual. I made my way downstairs after waking up to find breakfast on the table. I heard Mom in the next room.

"Is Dad gone?" I asked.

"He just left." Mom replied.

I began to chow down, not thinking about anything in particular. I didn't see her walk into the room, I smelled her. I didn't know if she always had perfume on or if it was her natural smell, her pheromones or whatever, but she always smelled good. She smelled like a woman. I knew that for the rest of my life whenever I would smell that smell I would get turned on. I got tingles as her scent hit my nostrils, and got something else when I saw her.

She was wearing a tight yellow blouse. It was tight and it was the lowest cut piece of clothing I ever saw here wear. It went halfway down her chest, showing almost the full expanse of her insane, ridiculous, soft cleavage. Her bra was pushing them forward, really just jutting her tits out, forcing all eyes on them. She was wearing a black mini-skirt, which went a few mere inches below her ass. It clung to her ass and showed off her ridiculously long legs. She was wearing high heels, really showing off her legs and behind. But what held my attention was the thong.

She was wearing a tiny black thong, practically microscopic. And she wasn't wearing the thong like a good mother would, tucked away neatly under her skirt. No, she had the straps above the hem of her skirt, high on her hips, creating a spectacular whale-tail. A whale-tail any slut would be proud of. Cause that is what Mom looked like. A slut. I knew she wore thongs, but I had never seen anything like this. I had never seen her be so brazen.

She sat down in front of her plate and I could not take my eyes off of her. Her skin was practically glowing, and her nipples showed through her top, as usual. She was horny, I was sure of it. She was dying to get fucked and she would not let me be the one to get the job done. It was infuriating.

"What?" she asked naively. I looked at her angrily. I was suddenly no longer hungry.

"You're evil." I said, pushing my plate away and going back to my room.

***********

For the first time ever, I was ecstatic for school to start, simply so I could get away from Mom's teasing. Part of it was great. I don't know where she got this cache of slutty outfits. Each day, when Dad was not around, she would traipse around the house in this revealing attire, teasing me and driving me wild. And knowing that I could never have her drove me insane. She would behave in front of Dad, but whenever she got the chance, she would drive me nuts with her skimpy outfits.

I mean, I accept the fact that making my confession to her opened me up to some teasing from her end. Most would make that teasing simply verbal, but not her. She made it visual... sexual. But I was hoping enough would be enough. She had had her fun, and if it kept going on it would veer towards being cruel. It's a bit messed up to tease a guy for telling her he was attracted to her. I wanted to move on and forget about her, like she originally said, but every tease was a reminder of this thing I could never have. Every tease dragged me back into thinking about her. If she wanted me to stop thinking about her, she was doing a really bad job of it.

School started and so did football, so I at least I had some distractions to get my mind off my mom's hot body. Instead of imagining how to penetrate my mother's no-doubt stupidly tight cunt, I was imagining ways to penetrate the 4-3 defense. Thoughts of my mom's spread legs were replaced with thoughts of the spread offense. Thoughts of gripping my mother's massive tits were replaced with me gripping the pigskin. Instead of fantasizing about coating my mom's face in my thick cum, I, uh... okay, I'm out of ways to relate football to fucking my mom. But the point is, practice had taken my mind off of her.

Me and my teammates had had workouts and practices over the summer, but things really picked up once school started. Typically, practice was grueling, but knowing the torture my mom was putting me through, I wasn't complaining.

Dad had just left for one of his many business trips. This was standard procedure at this point, as he had worked this way for years. But I was nervous now as to what this would mean with Mom's teasing of me. Would this go into overdrive now that he was gone? God, I hoped not.

So, school and football kept my brain occupied. Typically, school would keep me busy enough to where I would only think about her for like a third of the day. But football practice was great, as it was so fast paced that I didn't have time to think about how much cleavage my mom would be showing off.

Football was my escape. Football was the only freedom I had from the teasing I felt at home. I was focused. The rush of fine-tuning my craft, accomplishing my goals and performing at my peak was incredible. I was hitting the wide receivers with precision, dodging the rushing defense like I was moving at double speed. Things were going great. I was on fire. I looked to the stands, seeing if there were any girls were watching. But there was only hottie there, and it was the last hottie I needed to see.

My Mom, of course.

She had always been a great sports mom. She went to every one of my games, she was always involved in team functions, and she was ready to do anything she needed to help the team succeed. Mom was for all intents and purposes the team mom, cause it became very clear to me early on that she was all of my teammates' favorite mom. She would get all the votes and their own moms would get none. All of my buddies would no doubt prefer to have my mom jiggle around them than any of their own.

I had endured all the teasing that goes with having a hot mom before. Teasing me about her massive breasts, her hot ass, her gorgeous face. A lot of it was good-natured, but a healthy portion was a bit too realistic to be simply a joke. Most of their comments barely-veiled their legit desire to bone her. Every guy on the team wanted a crack at her. None of them gave a shit that I was their teammate, their friend. Nothing would stop them from fucking her if the opportunity arose.

So, again, she was the last person I needed to see.

I couldn't help but glance into the stands as I practiced. Needless to say, my productivity suffered. Passes were going errant, I was getting tackled by the rushing defense and the coaches were yelling at me to get my head in the game. But, after taking one look at her, I knew that was impossible.

It wasn't even hard for her. Her daily wear was effortlessly stylish. She sat in the bleachers wearing a burnt orange top which, of course, molded to her. Her enormous rack was really showcased in this, and it showed off just a glimpse of her deep cleavage. Her silky, tan skin glowed in the sunlight. She wore dark, tight jeans which clung to her. And as she sat with crossed legs, her high-heeled sandal dangled from her foot. She had her shimmering dark hair in a ponytail, and she wore a pair of thick, chunky, stylish sunglasses. Her lips looked smooth as she watched the practice passively, but I swear I could almost see her smirk as my focus went awry.

It wasn't unheard of for her to show up at practice, but it wasn't that common either. Though, with the way things had been going, I shouldn't have been surprised to see her here. But I was surprised to see she wasn't alone.

Like I said before, my mom was so hot that other gorgeous women practically flocked to her. Mom had a gaggle of hot friends. Including the woman next to her, Ms. Casey Graham.

I had known Ms. Graham for years. She was a teacher here at the high school, but I knew her before that. Her and my mom had known each other since I was a kid. Many times I had seen her and my mom dressed to the nines, wearing tight clothes and short skirts, about to go out dancing downtown or something along those lines. It wasn't until years later that I actually saw her in a professional setting as a teacher at the school. So while some of my friends were a bit intimidated by her, I felt no such hesitance around her. I didn't see her as an unimpeachable authority figure. That barrier between us was never there. She wasn't a teacher to me. I never once had a class with her. She was a family friend, and kind of a friend to me. She was someone that I wasn't afraid to talk to, to ask for help in a way others couldn't. It wasn't uncommon to have her give me a ride home or to have her give me something to give to my mom, stuff like that.

But all of my friends felt very different about her. Most didn't have the nerve to approach her. And the reason was very simple:

Ms. Graham was fucking hot.

I think she was a few years younger than Mom. She was a stunning redhead, her pale complexion suiting her perfectly. She was stunning, a truly gorgeous woman. She had smooth plumps lips, prominent cheekbones and a light smattering of freckles on her face. But it was her eyes that grabbed you. They were striking to say the least. They were crystal blue, and they just grabbed your attention. Deep pools of sapphire that pulled you in and never let go. Combine that with her perfectly styled eyelashes and thin eyebrows, her stare was a thing of legend. Many students feared that stare, cause they had experienced it firsthand.

Despite her good looks, Ms. Graham was one of those teachers you were warned about. She taught Math, the higher level stuff like the AP classes and the stuff just before that. Like I said, I had never had her. I wasn't a math guy, so I did just enough to get by before opting out of the math curriculum. Ms. Graham got the really good math students. And you would think she would treat her students nice, since they were the best of the best. That was not the case. She wasn't mean or anything like that. She was just incredibly demanding. Her syllabus was legendarily tough. The math students had stacks of homework every week, and by the end of the year, they would be pulling out their hair. Her justification was that she was treating them like college students, that they needed to get used to this level of work. She offered no leniency in her expectations of them. These being the top students, most had other activities going on, football, soccer, cheerleading, etc. Ms. Graham gave them no breaks, allowed no excuses. She was a toughie.

By all accounts, although she was tough, she was supposed to be very good and very knowledgeable. If you could keep up, she was your best friend. But if you screwed around and fell behind, she would let you have it. Many students ended up on the wrong side of her striking stare and were humbled by her demanding pace. She didn't suffer fools. You didn't fuck around with her, and if you did, she let you have it. She wouldn't hesitate to call you out if you tried to bullshit her, shame you in front of your classmates. And once you experienced that tongue lashing, you would never cross her again. Ms. Graham hardened you up, made you a better student, but it was a difficult journey to get there.

If Ms. Graham was a 50 year old bald guy, she would be reviled. But it was hard to hate her, due to the simple reason that she was so freaking hot. Her reputation as a tough, demanding teacher made her all the more attractive in the eyes of the male student body. Her severe attitude and appearance was unexplainably appealing, to the surprise of the female student body. The girls were always baffled to hear so many of their male peers found Ms. Graham so hot. Obviously, she was gorgeous, but it was more than that. It was hard to explain why. She was a tough, demanding hard-ass who made their lives hell thanks to her demanding homework schedule. But the guys in the school were able to look past that, some of that harshness adding to her appeal in a weird way.

I had heard the rumor that there was a standing bet for who would be the first student to stick it to Ms. Graham. To be the one to bang her, to crack her hard shell and expose the soft interior that just had to be there. Many guys imagined that soft side, theorizing that there had to be something beneath that harsh exterior. I was pretty sure this was a bet that would go unclaimed. With the way Ms. Graham dealt with stragglers in her class, I couldn't imagine what she would do if a student tried to flirt with her. The thought of how severely she would tear down any guy who dared approach her made me laugh. I just couldn't imagine Ms. Graham falling for any tricks some dumb teenage guy could pull on her. Ms. Graham wasn't some airhead teenager. She was a real woman.

She was all professional at school. Her dress-wear, pants, skirts and blouses all flattered her but not in an overwhelming way. She didn't dress like a slut or something, a slutty teacher desperate for teenage dick. She was totally a pro in every way. She didn't show off skin. She was made-up nicely but not over the top. She rarely let her hair down, preferring to wear it in a tight, severe pony-tail.