When Daddy's Away Ch. 02

Chapter 2

Later that evening, Tyler had returned from yet another unsatisfying date with his girlfriend, Lydia. As he walked up the driveway, he couldn't get thoughts of her out of his mind. Lydia had once again rejected his eager advances, leaving him with a painful case of blue balls that throbbed incessantly. He knew she wasn't old enough yet and he was willing to wait, but it did little to ease the ache in his teenage body.

As Tyler stepped into the house, his mom Amber sat comfortably in the living room, the flicker of the TV illuminating her face. Her knee-length robe was pulled up to her thighs, exposing her legs which were crossed underneath her. She looked up from the TV with a casual smile, showing no indication that she knew about the photos.

"How'd the date go, honey?" she asked, her voice as sweet and innocent as ever.

"Fine," he mumbled, and tried to rush past her quickly and up to the safety of his room.

"Hon, wait a minute!" his mother suddenly calls after him, and his heart skipped a beat. "Come here, sit with me. I've been home alone all day, missing your father. I know I'm just your yucky mom, and you're anxious to run upstairs and call Lydia even though you just saw her, but can't you spare me at least a couple seconds?" Her tone is teasing, but also impossible to deny. It was his mother, he couldn't really say no.

With his head hanging low, like a puppy being scolded, he marched slowly back downstairs and sat in his usual chair in the living room. A chair that was, unfortunately, positioned directly across from his mother.

"So, how did the date actually go?" his mother asks him after a moment of awkward silence.

Tyler was mostly trying to keep his eyes on the floor, not because he was grumpy but because he was trying not to look at her. Her legs were crossed in front of her and her robe was short, and once again his mother was offering him a view of herself that she didn't intend.

"Talk to me, kiddo. I need company!" his mom laughs and reaches over to the end table next to her, where she picks up a glass of wine he hadn't even noticed. There was no telling how many glasses she had already, but it worried him. She was drinking too much while Dad was away.

"It went fine, Mom," he mumbles again, and shrugs. He tries to look at her face, but his eyes somehow find themselves going directly to her thighs, and he realizes he can see all the way up to the dark shadow of what could only be her pubic hair. Apparently, she was not wearing any underwear, either.

"You two have been getting pretty close," his mother muses. She looks back at the television, her eyes watery, and all of a sudden she seems a million miles away. The wine glass seems forgotten in her hand, and she has no idea that she is offering her son a full view of herself for the second time that day.

"Mom?" She doesn't respond. Tyler can't resist anymore. When he realizes his mother is unaware of the slip and is paying no attention to him, he allows himself a look. Or rather, a long stare.

Her pubic hair is dark but neatly trimmed, and she seems to have shaved it into a nice, old-fashioned rectangle shape. Nothing fancy, but well maintained. He finds his own mind drifting into forbidden territory as he gazes at her sex, and suddenly he sees her not as a parental figure but as a woman, with normal needs, normal wishes... and normal parts.

Despite the depravity of it - or perhaps because of it - he finds himself becoming unbelievably aroused by the sight of his mother's pussy, a fact made worse by his already burgeoning arousal.

"I need to go upstairs. I got... homework to finish..." he says lamely, and stands up. He hopes that his mother won't notice the painfully large bulge in his pants.

Amber turns and looks at her son finally. She hesitates for a brief second and does a double take, but then looks him in the eyes. "Night, sweetie. I'm probably going up too. This wine is going straight to my head. Glad your date went well." she sets the glass down, suddenly looking ill.

Tyler rushes up the stairs and practically slams his bedroom door. He stands there for a moment with his eyes shut, breathing heavy, his brain now flooded with images of his mother's vagina.

The computer. He already knows what he's going to do next, knew it before he even came home. If he was honest with himself, he knew it the moment he saw those pictures, which is why he wanted Jake to leave so badly.

He strips off his pants, exposing his large erection. The throbbing is nearly painful now, and he quickly takes a seat at his computer chair. With only a few clicks, he brings up the naked images of his mother once more.

Switching from one picture to the next, Tyler begins to run his hand slowly up and down his very hard, very sensitive cock. He gazes at his mother's naked body, trying not to think about the fact that he was born from the very place that he is fantasizing about now. He imagines his cock inside of her, imagines the sounds she would make as he fucked her. He remembers a time that he heard her working out in front of the TV, and projects the grunting sounds she made then into his sexual fantasy now.

The taboo of what he's imagining seems incredibly wrong in his heart, but at the moment he is so horny he doesn't care, and he knows that nobody will ever know but him. It takes him almost no time at all to cum, the ache in his groin now overwhelming. Because of this he lets go of his hesitation, and as his breathing quickens and his cock begins to throb with the need for release, he quietly whispers, "Oh, mom..." to the pictures on the screen before his seed finally erupts, shooting into the air in an incredibly powerful orgasm that splatters onto his shirt and his bare stomach.

He lets out an unintelligible moan, "ahhhh.... AHHHH....!" and squeezes his eyes shut as the last few spurts of semen pump out onto his hand.

Finally, the shivers subside, and he opens his eyes slowly. His hand is covered in cum, and he realizes he is going to need to change his shirt as well. He just experienced one of the most powerful orgasms of his life, and he suddenly feels extremely ashamed.

Quickly, as if he can erase the very act itself, he wipes off his semen on an old sock. He then wipes his equally sticky belly with it before throwing the sock into a dirty clothes pile, then he strips off his shirt. He feels dirty, and he has never felt the urge the shower as badly as he does right now. After a peek into the hallway to make sure it is clear, he rushes quickly across to the bathroom door and shuts it, closing himself off from the outside world, and leaving him alone with his guilt.