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You know those silky, see-through sort of things women wear at night? Those robes that barely conceal what’s underneath, that are almost transparent? Yea, I love them.
Only thing is that only middle aged women seem to wear them, not the hot little things more my age. College girls, in school like me, the girls I usually go for? They generally throw on a t-shirt, with panties. Hot, yes, but something about those see-through robes gets me every time.
I mention these articles of clothing (though they don’t clothe all that effectively) because my mom wears them around the house all the time, at night before she goes to bed. And I don’t want to sound perverted here, but when the light hits her just right from behind, or perhaps when it’s cold in the room if you know what I mean, I can see just a glimpse of her breasts. Sometimes the bulge of them is clear to be seen as the frail material of the robe attempts to hide them, unsuccessfully, while other times her nipples might happen to be erect for whatever reason, and they come poking right through plain as day. However, they are always at least partially obscured by the robe, and that’s what teases me so damn much. I can’t ever seem to get just a regular old, full-on view of my mother’s breasts.
She has to know by now that I can absolutely see parts of her that no son should be seeing, especially one my age, with my sex drive at absolute max all day, every day. I’m twenty years old, in my sexual peak for fuck’s sake, and lately all I’ve wanted is a woman much, much older than I. A woman who has already had a kid, I mean, what’s wrong with me? Shouldn’t I be lusting after the flirty, jailbait teenagers I see at all the parties? Oh maybe I’m just bored with the easy party chicks. God knows I’ve fucked too many of them. But hey, I have a penis. What am I going to do when I have a drunk girl falling all over me, make sure she gets home alright and tuck her in bed with a kiss on the cheek? Yea right.
Still, as I mentioned I’ve been more and more attracted to my mom lately. And I know why. See, if I went to a therapist and told her (thats right, I’d definitely choose a female psychiatrist if I had the choice) all my disgusting, sexual fantasies I’ve had regarding my mother, she’d be ready with a speech about how my parent’s divorce made me want to replace my father as the man of the house, or that living alone with my mom for so many years has naturally made me feel stronger toward her in that certain regard. She’d probably tell me it’s perfectly normal for a son to reach an age where he suddenly begins having fantasies about his own. And then Freud would walk in triumphantly and say, “Aha! I told you!”
But then I’m not a limp-wristed little fuck with ADD who needs to see a shrink, and that’s not the point anyway. The point is all the usual psychological crap wouldn’t apply, because I would know the real reason I want to fuck my mom is because of those goddamn silky night robes!
I’ve been living alone with my mom since I was a kid. I was too young to have remembered anything about my parent’s divorce, all I know now is that he ran off with a young slut and left his family with nothing but monthly checks to keep us afloat. Jee, thanks. But no matter, because I’m more concerned about my mom.
The thing is, my mom hasn’t had a lot of dates in the years she has been alone. There has been the occasional guy, even some she might have regarded as boyfriends, but I know that none of them were that serious, or she’d be going out a hell of a lot more. No, most of the time she’s at home, and I hate to think that she’s gotten lonely after years of having no steady partner. And she’s not bad looking for her age, either. She never eats much, and she’s definitely in shape, and she’s always had a cute face. I’ve seen high school pictures of her, and honestly I’d bet any money she was by far the hottest chick in her entire school. Like, ridiculous hot. Now obviously over the years she has aged, especially having birthed me and being in her forties, but she still has that cuteness, and to boot she has a nice big ass and, oh yea, those boobs I’ve been telling you about.
…but back to the silky robes. You see, I had been away at college for a few years before deciding I should head back home for a while. The college party scene was just too distracting to my studies. I wanted to be at home, with someone to cook for me and take care of all that shit. And I know my mom wanted me back, what with her being all alone in the house. So it was win-win. But then I remembered the robes. Ah, the nightly silky, semi-transparent robes.
OK so at first I pretended not to notice that I could see her breasts through them, feel them smoosh into my chest when she gave me the nightly hug she insisted on. But after a few months, I started getting the impression she wanted me to feel them. For instance, sometimes my hand would brush against one during this hug, and she would make no attempt to move it, or even react at all. Sometimes she çatalca escort would bend over while doing kitchen work, knowing full well I was sitting right there, and give me a face full of mom-ass, or just the slightest view of the top portion of those creamy globes. I don’t think I’ve seen my moms boobs up close since I was a baby (I didn’t know how lucky I was back then, suckling those beauties!), so as far as I’m concerned I’m overdue for a good look.
And you want to know something? I’m pretty sure she looks at me too. I usually just wear boxers around the house, just having a t-shirt on is an upgrade around here. You could say we’re pretty open with eachother. But yea, sometimes I could swear she tries to get glimpses of my cock through my boxer shorts. For instance, I’ll open the door to the kitchen and walk in, and I’ve made it a point to watch her eyes and see what she’s looking at. Nine times out of ten, her eyes go straight for my nether region. My boxers really aren’t that big, in fact I need to get to the store and buy some new ones come to think of it. But anyway, yea she looks at the bulge that my penis and balls create in my underwear a lot, and I’ve always tried to sort of walk at angles where she can’t see them, stand behind the kitchen counter when we talk and whatnot, but I can tell she looks. And she’s my mom for god’s sake, I’m pretty sure she shouldn’t be doing that. But that’s not to say it doesn’t instantly turn me on, mind you.
That hug I mentioned, the nightly hug? She always holds that until I leg go, she never does so first. And recently, I’ve been holding that hug a bit longer, feeling her tits smashed against my chest, feeling my cock, separated from her skin by only a few milimeters of cloth, rising and growing hard, mere inches from her woman parts. Now I have to do that quick, leaned-over sort of thing to hide my erection every time we finish a hug. You remember back in high school, when you’d be sitting in class, not even realizing you had a boner, and then suddenly the bell would ring, and you have that little panic attack? You’d have to pull that penguin walk shit to get out of the class without anyone noticing your raging hard on? Yea, guess what, I have to do that all the time now! Her body has been giving me massive boners since I’ve been back at home. Yea, now that I think about it I guess in the back of my mind I’ve wanted her for years, but you don’t think about that kind of stuff when you’re out with college sluts trying to get laid. See, the only reason I want her so much now is that I’ve been living in such close proximity to her for the first time in years, and my dick is sort of getting anxious. And those damn silk robes!
“So, honey, what kinds of exercises did you do?”
I had been working out before dinner, this was about a week ago.
“Um,” I started, between mouthfuls of mashed potatoes and chicken, “bench press, reverse lateral pulldowns, uh, some curls on the free weights, and a couple hundred crunches.”
“Oh my baby has grown into such a tall, handsome man!” my mother gloated, leaning across the kitchen table to give me a peck on the cheek.
“All right, all right. Can you let me eat please?” I asked.
“Hah, sorry,” mom replied.
She has been doing that for years, years I tell you! She always compliments me on how handsome I look or how tall I’ve grown, or how blah blah blah. I guess all moms do stuff like that. Thing is, I know full well I’m good-looking, why else would all those party girls fuck me, suck me off? You don’t see the scrawny nerds getting pussy at parties, do you? It goes without saying that my mother knows nothing about these wild parties I’ve been to.
I wasn’t always like that, mind you. Thing is though, I used to be a pretty scrawny guy myself. But over the past couple of years I’ve become more active, and lately I’ve been doing some pretty serious resistance training, using protein supplements, the works. Shallow party chicks dig that alpha male shit, so that’s what I do. I’ve gained a ton of muscle, and I was tall beforehand so it’s easy for a tall, lean guy to put on muscle. And I love it when party chicks get all over me, but now my own mom, with her constant teasing, was starting to notice the physical changes.
“You’re getting so big and strong, so handsome! Tell me, do you have a girlfriend these days?” mom asked, prying for some personal information.
I could think only of dark, sticky, drunken nights at some guys house I don’t even know, partying and fooling around with random girls.
“Nope, nothing steady mom. I guess the right girl just hasn’t come along yet.”
“Well I know how that is. I was a young girl once too, you know, and sometimes you have to wait for the right person, someone nice, and caring,” mom said.
“That’s right,” I replied finishing up my dinner.
“All finished son?” mom asked, getting up to clean everything. She never allowed me to clean up after dinner, esenyurt escort even though she’s the one making all the damn food.
“Yea mom, thanks, dinner was great.”
With that she proceeded to bend over directly in my face and grab up my glass and plate. She was wearing one of her damn robes, so naturally her braless boobs sort of just spilled out into my view as she leaned over me.
“Is she kidding me?” I thought to myself, as I strained my eyes over toward the tits that were inches from my face, in an effort not to move my head and make it too obvious I was checking her body out. I could see the entirety of her left breast hanging down. The top was smooth, white, and luscious. I could just barely see some of the areola, but the nipple was pointed too far down for me to see that. Still, it looked wonderful. Mom or not, a man can’t just have breasts in his face and not react. I stared, and something primal within me sort of kickstarted. I desperately wanted to touch it, lick it, suck it, savor it. I could feel my dick stiffen instantly, blood rushing into it, filling it. She had to know what she was doing with all this teasing.
And just as I felt like my cock would explode out of my shorts, she stood back up, heading over to the sink to wash the dishes. Well now I had to just sit here and wait until my boner got itself under control, right? How does a man go about doing that? Do you think of baseball, or guns, or video games, or something macho to get your mind off of sex?
“Here, honey, you don’t have to sit here all bored. Go ahead up, I know you must have studying to do. Give me a hug before you go, though,” she said, walking toward me with rubber gloves still fastened to her hands.
Shit. Shit! How was I supposed to hide my erection? Too late. She was right there, and still had wet gloves on so she couldn’t really lean down, getting the table wet.
I took a breath, and stood up, wrapping my arms around her, and as usual, she pressed her chest into me, with full force. Her sweet breasts greeted my chest, and I felt her nipples tonight, poking my muscular form. There was no hiding my cock now, not with her clinging to me. I felt my dick nestle itself onto her leg, sliding along it a bit.
My mother gasped, but just a little, and with that she continued the hug as normal, I guess pretending she didn’t feel my massive rod pressed tightly, hotly into her smooth thigh. There was a moment of silence. I wondered if she could feel the throbbing of it, each heartbeat sending a little shock down to my baby-making appendage. Jesus I hope not.
After waiting as briefly as possible while still being polite, I released her, thanking her again for dinner.
“N, no problem,” she gasped, clearly flustered.
Oh yea, she had definitely felt it.
In my room, after the hug incident, I realized my boxers had little wet spots all over them, on the front. Precum. Whoa. See, I almost never have precum form, because usually I either jerk off to relieve myself, or I’m getting fucked so it doesn’t matter. But that night I had full on pre-ejaculate formed.
Needless to say I laid back on my bed, and slid a finger under my boxers to yank them over my absolutely raging penis. My cock, finally freed from its confines, burst out, ready for procreation, as far as my youthful body was concerned. My right hand was all it got that night, but fuck it, it still felt good.
I pulled and pulled on my hardon, massaging the head like no college girl seems to know how to do, bringing fourth maximum pleasure from my penis. I thought about my mother, with my cock planted between her legs, her gasping with pleasure. I fantasized about her reaching down, grabbing hold of me, jerking me off. I would grab her big nice mom titties, work them in my hands, feel her nipples harden. I’d spew my hot cum all over her.
After just a few minutes, I came, and hard. The precum had not lied about how primed I was. My jizz shot everywhere, running in goopy globs down my still-jerking hand, landing in puddles on my bedspread, some even spashed onto my chest.
Needless to say I needed a shower after that.
Well after that night last week I had to test the waters more thoroughly. I almost wasn’t going to, because after my initial necessary release of ejaculatory material, I sort of came to my senses and realized grabbing my own mother and having my way with her is probably a quick way to get booted out of the house, or get the cops called. But then I had this dream.
It was the most vivid sex dream I had ever had. You know how normally, when you’re having a sex dream, you wake up right when you get to the good parts? Not this time boy. The night after the hug incident, I had one hell of a sex dream. I dreamt I had my mother, naked in a bed somewhere, in some house I didn’t recognize. But I absolutely ravaged her, as if the ice had already been broken, and neither of us cared etiler escort any more about social restraint and that sort of thing. I fucked her hard, from behind, and brutally came inside her velvety pussy. And after that, I did it again, and again. She’d fall onto the pillows and bedsheets, spent, and I just kept reaching under her, grabbing her tits and ramming into her from behind. My cum spilled out in puddles from her abused vagina. I remember in the dream I looked down and saw it, pooling out, like I had shot an impossible amount of man stuff into her. Then I woke up.
After that dream, I had to do something. I considered it an omen, or something. I had to see if she felt the same way about me, if she wanted my cock and balls the way I wanted her tits, her mouth, her pussy. And wouldn’t you know it, my chance came.
“Aw, baby, I’m sorry you had to drive all the way back from the city like that. You didn’t have too many drinks did you?” my mom asked, massaging my back as I laid on my bed, spent from an entire day of driving four hours just meet up with college friends for a concert.
“Not too many mom, I was under the limit,” I said, in a tired voice, with my face smooshed into a pillow. I wasn’t actually that tired, but her hands felt good on my back and I wanted her to think I was beat. She was wearing one of her silky robes again, and I glanced up to see her tits, with nips nice and hard, quite close to my face.
I started getting hard, my dick sort of crammed between my belly and the bed below me. The friction ensured that my dick wouldn’t be calming down any time soon. So I was basically stuck on my bed, I couldn’t turn or get up until she left the room.
Suddenly, I realized in a horrifying moment that I was on display for my mother. I was sprawled face down on my bed, like I said, but I was only wearing boxers, and I could feel cool air hitting my smooth, egg-like ballsack from behind. Which means they were all but hanging out the back of my shorts. Trouble is, because of my hard on I couldn’t very well move to rearrange them, or surely mom would see the whole package. I could only sit there as she massaged me.
But then I remembered about all the teasing and bodily contact we’d been exchanging for weeks, and I just said “fuck it.” I laid there, and I actually spread out my legs a bit, really relaxing my balls, letting them sit proudly. I turned my head the other way on my pillow, making sure she knew I wouldn’t be able to catch her if she decided to peak and see my man parts.
We talked about the day I had, her hands working my back and my head, soothing me. She was always very motherly in this way, always babying me if I was tired like this. After a few minutes, I noticed she kept on asking questions about my day, well beyond the usual smalltalk. And that’s when I knew I had her. She must have been looking at my balls.
At one point I felt her hand on one of my toned legs, and I tensed up a little. Her soothing touch slowly moved up my leg until it got to the very edge of my boxers, her small, womanly fingers so close to my throbbing manhood and succulent balls, and it dipped it just a tad below the material.
My heart stopped. I knew I must have been turning her on, and it goes without saying that I was turned on myself, but for a split second I actually prepared myself to actually be touched sexually by my own mother. Her hand was moving up to my balls, and for that instant I honestly thought, “this is it, this is where she’s going to break the ice and make the first move.” And, like one of those unfulfilling sex dreams, just as I was most excited, she removed her hand, clearly restraining herself.
Even after she had finished her massage, she stayed in my room a good twenty minutes, ostensibly cleaning up a few things, and I just laid there in the same position. I knew full well my young, full balls were displayed out the back of my boxers, and I knew she was getting a good look at them from behind.
“Well,” she said finally, her voice sounding a bit high, like a young girl, “I’m glad you got home safe. You get some good sleep, alright?”
“I will, good night mom,” I said, still having to stay face down, my dick still hard as a rock.
Thankfully, she didn’t insist on a hug. Instead, she quickly left the room, and soon I heard her shower running down the hall. I wondered if she was touching herself, thinking of my hot, young nuts. Just as I hadn’t seen her breasts since I was a baby, she probably hadn’t seen my penis or testicles since I was a little child, when she would give me a bath.
I felt the precum getting sticky in my boxers, but even though I wanted to jerk off, I suddenly realized I was actually pretty tired. I hate it when that happens, when you’re really tired and have to decide between sleeping or getting in a quick jerk. I had only gotten about three hours of sleep the night before, and I had been out all day. My legs felt heavy, tired. I felt my eyelids get heavy…
I must have fallen asleep.
Now, my mom knows I’m a heavy sleeper. Back in high school it would sometimes take a violent shake from her to wake me up in the morning. She knows full well she could easily sneak in my room, and, say fondle my penis without me waking up.
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