Starting Over Ch. 02

As it turns out, the day finally arrived, and ironically, it was Mother's Day. I say that because for most people, including myself, it's a day dedicated to appreciating mothers for being, well... mothers. However, I didn't want our Mother's Day to be anything like that. I set the tone early by asking Mom if she would wear that first outfit I'd jokingly referred to as a Mother's Day gift when I bought it for her.

"You can't be serious," she laughed, although her kittenish smile still showed how much she enjoyed my teasing. "You want to go to a nice restaurant, surrounded by all these old ladies in their frumpy clothes, while I'm dressed like I'm heading to a club or something?"

"Actually, I thought we might stay in for the night," I offered.

"What, you expect me to cook my own Mother's Day dinner?" she asked incredulously. Not that it would be a first for her as she'd done it many times before when I was a kid, but that wasn't what I had in mind now either.

"No... I thought... well, I've been working on something myself and I thought I'd make it for you."

"You're cooking?" she laughed. "I didn't expect this Mother's Day to be my last."

"Okay, I'm ordering dinner from a restaurant," I confessed, "but I'll use the oven at home to cook it. Don't worry, you won't get food poisoning."

"Okay, if that's how you want it," she relented.

I could sense the disappointment in her voice; my apartment was honestly too cramped for the two of us, so we didn't spend much time just hanging out there. Mostly, we tried to stay out of each other's way, although I hadn't stopped my practice of walking around in that skimpy towel after showering, always with the faint hope that it was having some effect on her. I had become somewhat of a homebody after my last breakup, and for as long as I'd known her, Mom had always been that way as well. But being in such a tiny space had encouraged us both to go out much more, which, as I have already mentioned, had helped change our relationship, as they genuinely felt like dates.

"Well, if we're staying in, then I don't really need to do much to get ready, let alone wear that outfit," Mom reasoned.

"I... would you do it anyway?" I asked hesitantly.

"Why?"

"Because I love seeing you get all dressed up," I replied sheepishly. "You always look so beautiful, and I don't know, I guess it just makes the occasion feel that much more special."

"Only if you wear a suit," Mom dared me back with a chuckle. I owned one suit, and while it was certainly nice, Mom knew I hated wearing it.

"Fine, you're on," I replied with satisfaction.

**

The day arrived, and with the food in the oven, I began getting dressed. Mom was already in my bedroom; well, actually, by now it had pretty much become her bedroom, preparing herself as well. She had been in there for quite some time, but as I mentioned, I didn't mind at all. The mere thought of her making herself all beautiful for our evening together stirred me in both romantic and erotic ways. She had never been one to wear a lot of makeup, but in my opinion, she didn't need to, as she was so naturally beautiful. Nevertheless, she often spent about half an hour ensuring that everything was just right, and today was no exception, and I appreciated the effort.

She'd recently visited the hair salon and, with my encouragement, decided to try something new. The stylist recommended a French bob cut, which suited her heart-shaped face and was shorter than Mom typically wore her hair. After glancing at me hesitantly for my approval, which I enthusiastically provided, she went ahead with the change. She looked amazing, and once again, I hoped that making small changes like this might help her feel as though she truly had begun a new chapter in her life.

I'd told her before that she was free to do whatever she wanted with whomever she wanted, and even if I hadn't said the words aloud, it was pretty obvious that I was talking about love and sex. Nevertheless, with all the turmoil Mom was going through emotionally, I knew the last thing on her mind was considering a new romance. I also knew that despite Dad's betrayal and even her casual mention of sleeping with another man, Mom wasn't the type to break twenty-five years of fidelity on a whim. A lot had changed since she'd moved in, however, the woman I'd known before would never flirt so openly with another man, much less me, and that plus the erotic kiss we'd shared gave me genuine hope. Nevertheless, the choice I was going to be asking her to make tonight was a monumental one, probably the biggest of her life, and the last thing I wanted to complicate matters for her was any lingering feelings of loyalty to Dad or her marriage vows.

I was in the bathroom, which had become my makeshift changing room, nervously trying to adjust my tie. I wasn't really the type to wear one; I had a modest office job that I found after college, which I haven't talked about here since it's not relevant to this story. However, it is worth mentioning that the dress code there was business casual, so I wasn't at all used to putting on a tie. I almost wanted to ask Mom for help, and even went so far as to approach the closed door of her bedroom before changing my mind. I could hear her voice lightly singing, something she often did when getting ready to go out, and it brought a smile to my face, knowing that she was so happy, preparing for our newest "date," one that I desperately hoped would change our lives forever.

I finished getting dressed and then went to check on dinner. Mom was still putting the finishing touches on her appearance. When she finally emerged, I felt my heart skip a beat.

"Wow," I said with genuine appreciation, carefully monitoring my words. Part of me wanted to play it safe and say something more appropriate for a son, but I knew that if this was going to happen, I needed to step out of my comfort zone as well.

"You look so gorgeous, Mom," I said huskily, making a only a modest attempt to hide my physical attraction. I sensed that my words, and even more so the emotion behind them had struck a chord, as I could see that she was visibly affected by them.

"Oh, Matt, really, you are too much sometimes," she replied, her tone laced with just the right amount of bashfulness. She knew it was inappropriate for me to talk this way with her, but by now at least part of her enjoyed it too much to insist that I stop.

"You changed your hairstyle a bit, didn't you?" I asked.

"Do you like it?" she asked.

I didn't know exactly what she'd done; I don't know nearly enough about women's hairstyles to have a conversation on that topic. However, I knew she appreciated it when I showed any interest in her efforts or even noticed such details. Dad had largely ignored her over the years, and even simple gestures like this could have smoothed over some of the rough patches in their marriage if he'd cared enough to make the effort.

"It's amazing, Mom, I love it," I replied.

"Thanks son," she smiled back, her face practically glowing with appreciation. Perhaps we were still mother and son, I quickly reasoned, but that didn't mean we couldn't also be lovers; at least, that's what I'd always told myself. Hopefully, we could sort everything out later. For now, I had decided to go with the flow and see where it would take us.

"Come on, dinner's ready," I said.

"It smells wonderful," Mom said.

"So do you," I quickly added.

"Come on, Matt, stop it now," she chuckled. "Let's eat."

Okay, so maybe I was laying it on a bit thick with the compliments, but once again, I knew deep down she loved all the attention. We sat down at the table, and while I probably should have quit while I was ahead, my curiosity was strong enough that I couldn't resist pressing the subject further.

"No, seriously, Mom, that perfume you're wearing is fantastic. Is it new?"

"You really don't remember?" she laughed. "You bought it for me... last year... for Mother's Day."

I looked at her quizzically for a moment before she dryly added, "Ah, men."

We both laughed and began enjoying our meal, which consisted of a baked lemon chicken casserole, green beans almondine, and twice-baked potatoes on the side. It turned out even better than I'd hoped, but, of course, the best part was the company. I could sense that Mom was truly letting her hair down, even more than usual, and it was delightful to simply sit and enjoy a pleasant meal and conversation with her.

And then there was the wine. Once again, neither Mom nor I drank very often, which typically meant a glass of champagne for me at Christmas and not much more for her. However, I had bought a bottle of Pinot Noir, and after a little coaxing, she got into the spirit and agreed to share it with me.

We ended up having a glass each, and then another, and while I honestly hadn't intended for either of us to get drunk, I won't deny that I had ulterior motives either. I could feel the growing sexual tension between us over these past few weeks. The signals were certainly there; if she had been any other woman, I would have recognized them as such. However, I understood that, in her mind at least, part of her would always be "Mom," just as I would always be her son. Even if she were feeling that same physical chemistry between us, it would not be as easy for her to act on those emotions. With that in mind, if the wine could help get her past those natural inhibitions, then I wasn't going to be too proud to accept its assistance.

We talked, laughed, and reminisced about old times, recalling events we had attended during past Mother's Day celebrations, conveniently leaving Dad out of the conversation. A jovial mood filled the air, and perhaps it was the wine talking, but I found myself feeling amorous as well. Everything about the evening felt seductive to me, from the way Mom laughed gaily to the sweet scent of her sexy perfume. A couple of times she left the table to retrieve something, and I could swear even her flared, womanly hips had a slightly more provocative sway as she walked as if she were daring me to look at her body.

After our meal, we retired back to the living room couch, which was conveniently located just a few feet away from the dining table. To my delight, Mom appeared more than happy when I brought the bottle and our wine glasses with us.

We continued to talk and drink, engaging in conversation and laughter. I'm not sure if either of us was truly drunk, but by this point, we were both a little tipsy, well beyond the stage where many foolish remarks seem much funnier than they actually are. At one point, the topic of Erin, my first serious girlfriend, arose.

"I never liked her," Mom stated plainly.

"Why? She was a really nice girl." Obviously it didn't last, but I had nothing but fond memories of Erin.

"She was too old for you," Mom replied matter-of-factly.

"Maybe," I admitted, before cleverly adding, "What can I say? I guess I'm hopelessly attracted to older women."

Mom laughed heartily at my response. In reality, Erin was twenty-two and I was eighteen. Mom did have a valid point, since at that age, a four-year age difference might as well be twenty. However, my comment was clearly intended as a flirtation with her as well, something that was not lost on Mom either, as she actually paused for a moment and began to blush. Or maybe it was just the wine; who knows for sure? In any event, I could feel myself getting bolder by the minute, more certain that tonight would be the night where I finally opened up about my feelings for her. The sexual was so thick between us now, I reasoned, and there was no way Mom wasn't feeling it too.

"I just remember... well... after you started seeing her," she said uneasily as Mom began speaking again. "I started finding... you know... condoms in your jacket and in your dresser drawer too."

"You went through my jacket and my room?" I asked with feigned anger. It was water under the bridge, so to speak, so I wouldn't be upset about something like that now. If anything, I was amused by how uncomfortable Mom was at the mention of the condoms.

"Hey, it's a mother's prerogative to keep tabs on her son," she replied defiantly, though her voice was also laced with humor. "Even if it does involve a little... snooping."

We both laughed at the word "snooping," a lot more than we probably should have, which once again testified to how much the alcohol had taken effect.

"It's too bad you didn't like Erin," I started, once our conversation had resumed. "She was a great girl. I learned a lot from her."

I could feel Mom's uncomfortable stare on me as I spoke those final words, fully aware of how she had interpreted them, and I chuckled in response.

"Well, not just about that," I added with a knowing smile. "About plenty of things. She was a lot more mature than I was, and I had to grow up fast to keep up. It wasn't easy, but looking back, I know it helped me a lot with other women."

"So... she was your first then?" Mom asked, with the tiniest bit of trepidation in her voice. I was surprised to see Mom steer the conversation back to sex, but pleasantly so. We'd only recently started talking about my girlfriends and never discussed sex, so it felt significant for her to bring it up now. It gave me even more hope that we could have a different, more mature relationship than we'd had in the past.

"Yes," I replied. There was an odd look on Mom's face. I couldn't interpret it, but if I had to guess, the closest thing it resembled was concern.

"It's okay, Mom, everything was fine," I said, trying to reassure her. In truth, it was better than fine. Erin was an absolute minx between the sheets, and under her guidance, I not only gained a great deal of experience quickly but also overcame any lingering teenage insecurities I had about sex and my own sexuality.

"I'm glad to hear that," she replied, breaking into a calmer smile. "I suppose it's just a little weird... one day you have a boy, and then the next you find those in his pocket and... well, you have to accept that he isn't a boy anymore."

"We all grow up, Mom, I'm not a little boy anymore," I said, gently taking her hand in mine. I'm not entirely sure what I meant by the gesture; I just knew that I loved discussing sex with her, and this intimate contact made the conversation even more meaningful.

"Of course you aren't, son. I'm just being silly," she chuckled lightly.

I wasn't quite sure how to continue this conversation, but the last thing I wanted for either of us was to change the subject. Only one idea came to mind, and in a moment of desperation, I decided to go with it.

"Well, if we're going to be making confessions today, I must admit that I went through your dresser once as well. I'm sorry, Mom, truly sorry, but I found something of yours too... something long and white, with batteries..."

"Oh my God, you didn't!" she exclaimed in utter shock. "How could you, Mathew?"

"Like I said, Mom, I'm sorry. I've regretted it ever since."

"What were you doing anyway, looking through my dresser drawer?"

"I don't even remember. All I can say is, I'm sorry."

In truth, I did remember. I was going out with my friends and was looking for a little extra cash, but I knew that confessing this now would only make things worse. What can I say? I was mostly a good kid—well-behaved, did well in school, and so on—but like most teenagers, I had my not so noble moments too.

"I can't believe you knew about that," Mom said, her face flushed with embarrassment.

"Mom, it's no big deal," I said as nonchalantly as possible. "Plenty of women have... sex toys." I wasn't sure if that was the best term to use, but referring to it as a vibrator seemed somehow worse.

"Melanie had three of them," I added with a disarming chuckle, attempting to put her mind further at ease. To my surprise, it had the exact opposite effect.

"Oh my God, Mathew, I'm so sorry," Mom said, exasperated. "I had no idea you and Melanie had those kinds of problems too."

"We didn't," I replied with a hint of amusement, "in fact, our sex life was fantastic."

I would likely be confused right now if I didn't know Mom so well. It didn't take much effort for me to understand over the years that her marriage was just as unsatisfactory in the bedroom for her as it was in general. It also wasn't hard for me to guess that Mom's reason for owning a vibrator was to help her deal with her otherwise lackluster sex life. And so Mom had naturally assumed that the same was true for Melanie.

"Mom, many couples have items like that for their mutual enjoyment," I said plainly. "I admit, it's not something I'm particularly interested in, but Melanie was, so I adapted for her sake. It's not just something that..."

I bit my tongue, cutting myself off, but it was too late; Mom finished my thought for me.

"It's not just something that lonely old women use when they have husbands who won't touch them," she said, distressed.

I wouldn't have said anything nearly as harsh as that. However, it clearly struck a nerve, as Mom's face immediately turned sad and despondent. I still had my hand on hers, so I gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Mom, I've said it a million times before, and I'll say it another million times: none of that was your fault."

"I... I never thought my life would end up like this, Matt. I never imagined I would live for forty-six years without finding love."

Even though we'd already discussed it before, I still felt the sting of her confession. She didn't love Dad; she never had. Any pretenses she had maintained to the contrary were for my benefit, but those days were over. I understood how difficult it was for her to voice the truth, and I admired her courage. I also felt that our relationship had reached a level of honesty that surpassed even what it had been just moments earlier, and the urge to express my feelings aloud was something I could no longer suppress.

"I'm so sorry, Mom; you didn't deserve that. I know what a special and loving woman you are. Dad never deserved to have you as his wife. You're the finest woman I've ever known, and Dad squandered what could have been a wonderful marriage. You deserve to experience love every day, every hour, from someone who wants and needs your love just as much in return."

This seemed like the perfect moment to fully express my feelings to Mom, but I still felt the need to prepare the situation just a little bit more.

"I know how passionate you are, Mom, about everything. It's one of the things I adore most about you. You don't know how painful it was for me to watch you endure what you did with Dad. That's why I completely understood when you told me about Brandon. After so many years without love, someone finally offered you his affection. I don't blame you for feeling the same about him."

"He was just a boy," Mom lamented, her voice trembling and clearly on the verge of tears. "I doubt he even understood what love truly is."

"I'm sure he loved you in his own way," I said. "I know how much you wanted to go to bed with him, how much it would have meant to you, and as someone who only cares about your happiness I wish you had done it. Even if it had only been a minor distraction from what you were going through with Dad, you would have been justified in doing it."

This wasn't the first time I'd suggested that she should have had sex with Brandon, but until today Mom had always reproached me for doing so. This time, however, she appeared defeated. Maybe reminding Mom of the regrets she harbored about her past wasn't the most honorable tactic, but I wasn't going to underestimate the challenges I still faced with her.

"What's the point of bringing him up?" she asked, exasperated. "That was a long time ago."

"Because I'm glad you shared that with me. I feel like I learned a lot about you from that story."

"What, that I came that close to cheating on Gary?" she shot back sarcastically.

"That you're the loving woman I always believed you to be. I always knew you were a woman of passion and desire, but I never got to see that side of you because of the relationship you had with Dad."

"I finally got a glimpse of that side of you when you told me about Brandon, a woman that needs love, needs passion, and needs sex. More than anything, I loved hearing that you could have such an intense feelings—emotionally, mentally, and sexually—to someone... to someone young enough to be your son."

Mom had been listening with keen interest, but she reddened deeply at my final words, looking down as if she were too embarrassed to meet my gaze.

"It was wrong, Matthew; it was so wrong," she said, quietly sobbing. "He was so young, just a child. I didn't want to take advantage of him."

"You know that's not true, Mom. Brandon wasn't a child; in fact he sounds like much more of a man than you give him credit for," I replied. "He saw how unhappy you were with Dad, and as the two of you grew closer he began to develop feelings for you himself. It's the most natural thing in the world. He didn't do anything that I wouldn't have done in his position. He loved you, and he could tell that you loved him too. When the time seemed right, he told you how he felt and asked you to go to bed with him. If anything, I'm jealous that he was able to do back then what I didn't have the courage to do later on."

"What, what are you talking about?" Mom asked incredulously. I gently placed my hand under her chin and lifted it so that we were looking each other in the eye once more.

"I remember all those times when I would see you sitting alone after a big fight with Dad, especially when he stormed out of the house. I would find you there, crying and unsure of what to say or do, yet deep down, I knew exactly what I wanted. I wanted to come over and sit next to you, just like we are now, and talk about everything—life, love, marriage, sex... all of it. We would open up to each other in ways we never had before, talking about opportunities gained and lost, laughing and crying together, only to realize that we always had everything we ever needed in each other. We would hug and kiss like we had many times before, as a mother and son, but deep down, we both knew that our relationship could be so much more if we only gave it a chance. And so we'd finally give in to those feelings, those desires, and kiss again, but this time passionately, as lovers, just as you and I did the other day."

There was a look of shock on Mom's face, but also a sense of resignation, and I felt that at least some of what I had said resonated with her. She didn't try to pull away, not even from my hand gently stroking her chin. And with that, I took the final step, lowering my face to hers and planting the softest, most romantic kiss I could on her lips. I had done my best to make my case to her, both in words and actions. I wanted her to understand that even if her feelings towards me had changed recently, it wasn't something to fear. Our love had been forged through decades of supporting one another through thick and thin, and if the nature of that love had changed in the past few weeks, it had only grown stronger because of it. Our feelings for one another hadn't originated in the bedroom; they would only be affirmed there.

"Mathew... I just don't know about all of this," Mom said as our kiss came to an end. "I know how much you're still hurting from Melanie, I know what it feels like to be betrayed. Any woman would be lucky to have you, I really mean that, not just as your mother, but as a woman. I'm proud, so proud, of the man you've become. You're so different from Gary, at least in all the ways that matter. Maybe you're still not thinking clearly after everything that happened with Melanie though...""

We were still facing each other, our faces only inches apart. I raised my hand to her hair, stroking it gently as I continued to gaze into Mom's eyes.

"This isn't about Melanie, or anyone else. I want this, Mom, I want you. I've wanted you for so long," I said, my voice filled with desire. "I love you deeply; I need you like I've never needed anyone else, not only as my mother, but as a woman. And even if most of this still feels new to you, I think you understand how we could be so much more for each other if you're only willing to give it a chance. Dad never gave you what you needed most to be happy... love. All I want is to love you in the way that you've always deserved."

I continued to gaze into her eyes, uncertain of what to say next. Thankfully, she spoke up, tears now streaming down her face.

"Oh Mathew, that's so sweet."

I pulled her close to me once more. She didn't resist the embrace, but she remained too shy to take any further action. And so I kissed her again, gently, sweetly, pouring all the emotion my heart was experiencing into that moment. It was incredibly erotic, our mouths tentatively but still lovingly exploring each other, giving and receiving pleasure just as we had during that impromptu kiss we shared weeks ago, except this time, Mom did not retreat. And so we shared another kiss, and then another, allowing those sensations of sexual pleasure to grow stronger each time.

We continued like this, and while it'd started with my mostly taking the lead, as time went by I could sense Mom's defenses lowering further, her trembling lips gradually seeking mine, and with each passing kiss the intensity increased until she returned my affections with equal desire, her breathing now quicker and more shallow, mixed in with sighs of pleasure here and there. She was clearly enjoying what we were doing, and it excited me to see her no longer trying to deny what was happening between us.

Despite all of this, I knew I had to proceed cautiously. I'd wanted Mom for so long that it'd felt like an eternity to me by now, but I had to keep reminding myself that these different feelings for me she was experiencing, motherly love now punctuated with erotic excitement, were all still relatively new for her. She was also fighting against a lifetime of moralizing from society that were no doubt still shouting to her from the recesses of her mind.

Feeling slightly more emboldened now, I moved my free hand and softly began caressing one of her big, soft breasts. Mom let out a surprised gasp at my initial touch, but they soon turned into soothing moans as I kneaded her flesh between my fingers.

"Oh my... oh god," was the next time I heard her speak, her voice now shuddering with euphoria, although still laced with a bit of shock of knowing that it was the once innocent boy she'd raised all those years ago was now touching her this way. The cut of Mom's dress didn't allow for a bra, and I could feel her rock hard nipple practically stabbing my hand through the material. It took some effort, but I managed to pull it down far enough to expose most of her breast. After taking a moment to marvel at its beauty, the sweet, soft grapefruit mound of flesh capped with a thick, pink areola, I moved my face down and sweetly kissed her breast all over before paying closer attention to the wide oval at its center, licking and flicking it over with the tip of my tongue and then gently taking it between my lips and sucking on it.

"Oh... oh fuck!" Mom exclaimed, her voice somewhere between a state of shock and ecstasy. She rarely cursed, and I'd only heard her do so when she was angry, so hearing my mother shout the F-word in a moment of carnal pleasure was both surprising and arousing.

"You turn me on so much, I want to touch you like this everywhere, Mom, I want to make love to you. Do you understand what I'm feeling inside? Do you feel it too?"

"Yes, Mathew, I... I feel it," she finally admitted, the words still coming out as if she were still fighting herself to say them. "But... but I'm afraid of it too."

"I never want you to feel afraid again, Mom, and you won't as long as we're together. We've always been stronger together than apart. I want us to be together forever, as lovers."

Tears began streaming down Mom's face, her cheeks flushed red. I could still see the bit of shock on her face, hearing her own son speaking to her this way, but there was a look of comfort too, knowing that I was offering to love her in ways that Dad never had, never doubting that I meant every word. I took her hand confidently in mine, hoping once again to demonstrate the strength we shared, a bond that could never be broken.

"One life together, Mother, one love together, one bed together," I boldly declared, gazing deeply into her eyes. "Tell me you want it too."

The look of anxiety still lingered on Mom's face, but there was an undeniable excitement as her tears had ceased. Amidst all of this, she managed to give me a faint, clumsy smile, accompanied by a nod of her head. As much as I'd wished she'd had the courage to say the words out loud, I could and would be patient enough to take things at her pace if necessary. And with that, I smiled joyfully, sweeping Mom up into my arms and carrying her to the bedroom.

**

When we arrived, I laid Mom down on the bed. As incredible and exciting as the moment was, I felt terribly overdressed, and the need to get out of the formal suit I was wearing became overwhelming. I stepped back and stood at the foot of the bed, quickly removing my clothes. Mom took my cue and slipped off her dress as well. For a moment, I gasped at the sight of her reclining on the bed, clad only in the tiniest of panties. That daring piece of lingerie was undoubtedly something she had purchased recently, and it was clear she had done so without my assistance. I loved seeing her in such attire; it accentuated her sensual, feminine curves, highlighted by her bare, shapely breasts.

"God, you have such an incredible body," I gushed in excitement.

"You're not so bad yourself," Mom replied, her voice tinged with evident arousal. I was now down to my underwear, and I could sense her curious gaze on my waistline as my hands moved to pull them down.

"So that's what you've been hiding underneath that towel," Mom said with a playful smile when my cock sprang into view. I'm not huge, but I'm more than happy with the seven inches God gave me, and I'm more than capable of getting the most out of every inch too. I didn't expect Mom to bring up me walking around in that towel after showering; but I was grateful, as I felt like a bit of a fool for trying to get her attention like that up until now.

"I didn't think you'd noticed."

"Oh, I noticed," she chuckled, her tone infused with just the right amount of mischief, which made me laugh in return. Hearing her speak about me in that way was such a turn on, just as the lustful glint in her eyes that seemed to beckon me back to our bed. Even if she still appeared a bit anxious, I could tell how much she wanted this, wanted me.

"It's for you, Mom. It always has been, and it always will be."

I realize it was a dumb thing to say, and I can't help but laugh at my own corniness now. However, sometimes when you speak from the heart, things just come out that way. All I know is that's how I felt at the time, and honestly, I still feel that way today. All those other girls I'd been with, whether they were one-night stands or longer term relationships - they were all nothing more than a dress rehearsal for the only woman I'd ever truly wanted, the one who was now lying naked in my bed, with a wanton look on her face as her eyes hungrily focused on my cock, bigger and harder than it had ever been before.

"All of this... all of this is so crazy, Mathew," Mom chuckled with nervous excitement. "I still can't believe it's happening. But I do know a few things: it's been way too long since I've seen one of those, or had anyone look at me the way you do. And I know how much I like it, how much I need it."

It was the most seductive invitation I could have hoped for, one I accepted immediately, joining my lifelong love and now lover in bed. We found ourselves in each other's arms, and although I had intended to take things slowly, the intense passion radiating from Mom was too much for me to even want to hold back. And so we grappled together on the bed like a pair of sex starved lovers instead, limbs intertwined and our lips locked, tongues deeply exploring each other's mouths in a surge of carnal desire.

This was the side of Mom I'd always dreamed of seeing, the one that l knew needed a man sexually as much as she needed his love. It all came out in the nonverbal cues she was dropping that revealed what turned her on, like Mom's tongue aggressively swirling in my mouth or her hands purposely grabbing my ass, something that I later found out was one of my physical attributes that she found most attractive. I'd actually had a few girls say that to me before, but hearing Mom admit that she thought I had a "cute butt" was something I'll never forget, especially with she blushed afterwards.

But for now, her loud moans were more than enough to excite me, telling me that she was doing so to get herself off as much as pleasure me. My hands were all over her too, fondling her soft breasts and trying to work a finger in between her legs. Mom's panties were so wet when I touched them that it was almost as if she'd jumped into a pool, and I reveled knowing she was so aroused, but then again, so was I.

Lying naked in bed with Mom, our mouths nearly fused together, hearts racing in unison, our hands exploring each other's bodies without inhibition, it felt like a sensory overload of sexual euphoria, and as much as I wanted it to last, I was already fighting the overwhelming urge to cum. The need was building up like a pressure cooker inside me, and up until now I managed to fight it, but when I felt the soft, warm fingers of Mom's hand, eagerly exploring and then fondling my cock, it took everything I had to keep from exploding.

That wasn't the end of it, however, as her gentle caress soon turned into a smooth, steady rhythm of her fingers wrapped around my erection, stroking it as she jacked me off. I couldn't take it anymore; not only because the physical sensation of her hand around my cock felt incredible but also knowing that it was the woman I'd only seen as my loving mother of twenty-three years now purposely wanting to masturbate me. It was the sort thing I'd dreamed about countless times over the years, and now that it was happening for real my excitement was more than I could control. And so after only about a minute of her pumping my shaft, I let out a loud groan and let my body release the pent up arousal that I could no longer contain.

To say I came hard would be an understatement, but not at all surprising considering what I'd done, and more importantly, the woman who'd gotten me off. I was spraying semen everywhere, but considering the position of our bodies, the majority of it went on our bellies that were only lying inches apart. We moved away from each other and I sat on the edge of the bed, and Mom got up too. My breathing was so hard now that Mom realized that I needed some time to recover. I wasn't really sure what to say, as the orgasm I'd had was so intense that I actually felt a little dizzy, needing a few moments for the cobwebs to clear from my brain.

"That... that was a lot of cum," I heard Mom say with a slightly awkward laugh, looking up at her and managing a sheepish grin in response. There was a thick globule of it on her hand, stuck between her knuckles, and I watched in silence, hoping with excitement that she might lick it off with her tongue, only to see her grab a hand towel near the bed and clean it off with it. The disappointment I was feeling must have been betrayed by my face, because she gave me a quick, anxious look in reply, but her actions didn't really bother me too much. Everything that had happened to me today was a dream come true, and we were only getting started.

I settled back into bed, and Mom lay beside me as we embraced. We slowed things down for now, taking some time to relax as we hugged each other close, talking, sharing a few laughs, and speaking sweet nothings to each other. It seemed like she finally seemed okay with all of this, at least on the outside. As for me, it was tender moments like this that I wanted more than anything to define this new relationship we were exploring; although I'd used the word "lover" several times with her already this was the first moment where I felt like those dreams of mine had become real. I never wanted our relationship to be solely based on sex, and Mom clearly understood that. None of what was happening between us physically would have felt right otherwise. That was how I wanted it, and now that I had helped Mom overcome her earlier inhibitions, I knew that she wanted it too.

After a while, our touches and caresses became decidedly sexual again, with me now taking the lead, employing a slower, gentler approach to what we'd done earlier. However, I had a specific plan in mind; even though I felt as if I waited my entire life to bury my cock inside her, my mind was consumed now with thoughts of eating her pussy. Mom was on her back, with me lying on top of her as we exchanged loving kisses, but now I slowly began moving down her body, using my tongue and lips as I kissed and licked at her aroused flesh. She moaned softly at my ministrations, especially when I stopped for a while to focus on her big, bulbous tits.

"Oh... oh, Mathew, that feels wonderful," Mom purred huskily, as my mouth concentrated on those marvelous orbs, licking and kissing her hot flesh, and sucking long and deep on her aroused nipples. I looked up at her for a moment and saw the big smile on her face, recognizing that heavenly mixture of love and lust that I'd seen on plenty of other girls' faces during sex, but that took on a new level of intimacy for me now that it was happening with my own beautiful mother. I loved making her feel so good, and that only motivated me further with thoughts of how much more I could do for Mom once I got between her legs, and so I reluctantly stopped and went back to kissing my way down her body. It wasn't until I got near her waistline, however, that Mom finally realized what I was up to, and to my surprise she suddenly tensed up.

"Um... uh... Matt, you really don't have to do that, you know," she said, her voice tinged with apprehension.

I could hear the subtle pain in her voice, once again reminding me of how Mom had forced to endure so many years of sexual loneliness despite being married. Had Dad ever gone down on her? If he had, the experience must have been so unpleasant for Mom that she wanted to prevent me from doing it now.

"Mom, I've wanted to for so long. I've thought about it for years, even had dreams about it. Please, let me make you happy."

I never claimed to be a poet or anything, so once again, you'll have to excuse me if that sounds corny. I guess I could have been more explicit, telling her how much I was dying to taste her juices or feel my tongue buried deep inside her, and it would have all been true, but considering Mom's obvious nerves saying less was probably the better way. All I can say is that I spoke with heartfelt emotion, and that, more than anything, was something I knew Mom could appreciate. I could see my message breaking through to her, as the look on her face transformed from slight trepidation to a gentle calmness, clearly moved by my words. With that silent permission granted, I continued, finally settling myself down as Mom parted her legs for me.

As I mentioned earlier, when it comes to sex, I learned most of what I know from Erin, my first serious girlfriend. I was a virgin at the time, and she took it upon herself to become my instructor of sorts. Erin had considerable experience and taught me everything she knew. She was easily the kinkiest girl I've ever had sex with, and she loved things like talking dirty and doing it in public places. I'd never been quite brave enough to admit to Erin my fantasies about Mom, but that didn't keep her stop her from doing things like calling me "Daddy" while we fucked, something I really got into without too much effort. She absolutely loved it when I spanked her—harder was always better—while I took her from behind, especially when I did it as her fantasy Dad. It was a lot for an inexperienced teenager to keep up to, but I managed.

Looking back, I feel like dating Erin was akin to attending an accelerated school for fucking, and considering how green I was at the time, I can only say that I learned a great deal and am grateful to her now. But more than anything, I appreciated the way she took the time to teach me basics like eating pussy. I really had no clue what I was doing at first, but Erin quickly changed all that. In hindsight, I can't give her enough credit for her patience with me.

When it came to oral sex, the best advice Erin gave me wasn't about technique, but rather about attitude. I still remember her telling me that the biggest difference between men who were good at it and those who were great was that the latter genuinely enjoyed what they were doing. They loved pussy and had a passion for going down on women. Lessons like that had a tremendous impact on me during our time together. By the time we moved on from our relationship, I found myself loving every aspect of it. Erin, by the way, practiced what she preached, and to this day, I have never seen anyone, except for maybe some women in porn, suck dick the way she did. However, that's perfectly fine; not everyone needs to be like Erin, and I certainly didn't expect that from Mom.

And so as I lay down on my stomach, staring at the beautiful "Y" shape formed by Mom's spread legs, I felt a sense of excitement that I can't even put into words. One of the first things I took note of was her grooming. Mom always maintained herself well in other areas and so it was no surprise that she did here as well. It was mostly trimmed, leaving just a small but prominent tuft of hair at the top of her mound, just enough that she could get away with wearing a bikini if she wanted to and still look right. I liked that she wasn't shaved completely; it just feels more womanly to me to see some hair down there, although my previous girlfriends were all clean shaven so it wouldn't have bothered me if Mom had chosen to do the same.

I started off with light kisses and licks on her firm inner thighs, which as I mentioned previously were arguably Mom's most attractive feature. Right now, however, I couldn't imagine any sight more beautiful than her pussy, looking like a flower bud about to bloom, with her inner lips not only visible but standing out proudly. It took everything I had not to be fixated on the stunning sight of her vagina, it was like looking at a work of art to me, but then again I would say the same about any part of a woman's body when I find her attractive, and pretty much everything about Mom's drove me mad with desire. To say it took all the willpower I had not to dive right in and start tonguing her like crazy would be an understatement, but Mom obviously wasn't used to having someone go down on her, and I could still sense some nervousness on her part, so for now I forced myself to take my time, kissing, licking, and sucking her inner thighs, slowly making my way closer to her womanhood.

I love the way women react when you go down on them, which is why I'd been so acutely aware that Mom wasn't completely comfortable yet. After some time, however, I slowly felt her beginning to relax, and was now rewarded with soft cries and moans of pleasure as I discovered more erogenous spots. She was ready now, more than ready, and with an excitement I'd never felt before in my life I finally extended my tongue out and made contact with her lips.

"Oh, oh fuck!" Mom cried out. Her body tensed up, not quite like during an orgasm, but enough like she'd been struck by a bolt of unexpected pleasure. Once again, I loved hearing her curse during sex, as it seemed so out of character, but for now, I remained focused on what I was doing, reveling in the sensation of licking up and down her sweet pussy. I could feel her starting to lose it now, her legs shaking and her cussing becoming more frequent. Up until this point, I'd mostly ignored her clit, only giving it a few small flicks with my tongue, each of which had practically driven her crazy, as I patiently waited until Mom's body was ready for more. She was moaning over and over now, thrusting her hips at me and trying to grind her pussy into my face.

"You have the sexiest pussy I've ever seen, Mom," I cooed lovingly to her. "I want to lick your clit so bad, it's so beautiful, so big and swollen. Would you like that?"

Mom responded by grabbing my head and shoving it hard against her mound. After being with Erin, I wasn't the type who shied away from a woman being rough with me, the countless bloody scratches she regularly on my back being proof of that. I went at her clit with gusto now, licking and sucking for all I was worth, and then adding my finger to the mix, fucking her with it hard and fast.

Her verbal responses got louder and louder, until she was eventually screaming at the top of her lungs. Most of it was unintelligible, although I was too busy between her legs to be really listening anyway. There are few things I enjoy more than a woman's orgasm, such a full body experience when it all comes together just right. When Mom came I could feel the entire bed shaking, and not just because it was so small. It was like an earthquake hit her body, with my mouth locked on the epicenter, and I just hung in while she rode it out. After it was over, her body grew limp as if orgasming had taken all the energy out of her, and she just laid back, still breathing heavily as she tried to regain her bearings. I remained lying between Mom's legs, gently kissing her pussy, almost lost in my own world as I once again took in her sweet smell and taste. We remained like this for awhile, staying mostly silent, until Mom finally spoke up:

"Where the hell..." she asked, still trying to catch her breath, "where the hell did you learn that?"

"See, I told you Erin was a good girl; you should have liked her," I answered, breaking into a chuckle. My comment was enough to make Mom laugh as well, before she sarcastically added, "I guess I should thank her then, if we ever meet again."

"I'd love to hear that conversation," I couldn't help but reply, prompting us to burst into laughter together. It was nice to be able to joke with her like this. Who cares if Erin or anyone else disapproved of what we were doing? They had their lives to lead, and we had ours, and that was perfectly fine too.

I crawled onto the bed and once again lay on top of Mom, our arms wrapped around each other in a tight embrace as our mouths exchanged deep, longing kisses. It was yet another one of those intimate moments that I wished could last forever, but I felt other urges stirring within me, churning and desperately needing to be satisfied.

"Mom... I... I love you so much," I finally said, breaking our most recent kiss. "I've never been so happy."

"Me too," she replied with a warm smile, gazing deeply into my eyes. "And now... and now, my beautiful son... I want to feel you inside me."

I smiled back, my heart full of joy. Mom was realizing those same emotions and needs as I was, and was even willing to take the initiative now by saying them out loud for the both of us. She moved her legs apart for me and I got ready to enter her in the missionary position. I'd learned all kinds of different positions from Erin, and was looking forward to showing Mom some of my favorites, but when it comes to making love to a woman for the first time, missionary will always be the right one for me. It feels like the most intimate way to be with someone you care about, and just being able to savor that look in Mom's glowing eyes, knowing that in her heart she now wanted this to happen as much I did, is one of those things I'll never forget. And with that, I pressed the head of my cock against Mom's vaginal lips, gently forcing them open and sliding all the way in.

"Oh, oh my god, Mathew," Mom groaned. "That feels so good."

I know how much some women love that feeling of first penetration, enough that part of my regular routine is to pull out immediately afterwards and then wait a while before entering again, but I didn't have the willpower to try anything like that today. I'd just sunk my cock all the way into Mom's excited vagina, and there was no chance I was pulling out completely. In terms of intimate needs, I could have stayed like that forever, with out bodies joined as one and me looking into Mom's adoring eyes, but sexual needs have a way of asserting themselves whether you like it or not.

"Oh... ohhh.... yes... yes..." she moaned in rhythm to each of my thrusts as I bottomed out, my cock plunging into her again and again. Just the sound of my sweet mother's voice in my ears in such an wanton state of arousal as I fucked her was one of the most erotic things I'd ever experienced; adding to the sensations I was feeling as my cock glided in and out of her velvety pussy.

Once again, however, it all felt so incredible that within less than a minute, I was already fighting the urge to climax, but I did everything could to fight through it and stay the course. I knew how unsatisfied Mom had been with her sex life over the years; I'd been adamant to her about how unfair that was and I'd been sincere about it. Seeing the afterglow of contentment on her face after she'd gotten off on my tongue had brought me such joy; Mom didn't have to say anything for me to know it was one of the best orgasms she'd had in years. I was determined to make her feel that way again, as every fiber in my body felt committed to give her the proper fucking she deserved.

"Oh God, baby, yes!" Mom moaned again. I'd been fucking her for some time now with slower, longer strokes, but had just I'd switched to shorter, faster ones, and that seemed perfect to what she needed now. I kept going at it like that, banging into her her harder and harder. I'd also shifted positions slightly, lifting Mom's legs from being tightly locked around my waist to resting atop my shoulders. I'd been with a couple of girls who really got off in that position, especially since I'm capable of thrusting so much harder at that downward angle.

"Oh fuck, fuck!" Mom was now screaming over and over, and that sound, combined with the poor bed springs of my mattress squeaking so loudly that I honestly thought they might give out at any moment, filled the room. All I could do was hope for the best because I wasn't stopping now. Mom's voice and body language resembled that of a madwoman who'd lost all sense of rationality or decorum and who'd been taken over by some wild, mating instinct, and I was feeling much the same way, ramming into her like a jackhammer with everything I had. I was going to make her cum, and hard, the way she'd was entitled to all these years but never got to experience with Dad. Nothing was going to stop me now.

"Tell me to fuck you, Mother. You don't know how may years I've been dying to hear you say the words," I growled. It wasn't the kind of thing I would have been brave enough to say even a few minutes before, but Mom was practically in a state of delirium by this point, and knowing that emboldened me. Besides, I hoped a little bit of naughty talk would add to her pleasure, and so I went for it.

"Oh god yes, fuck me, fuck me Mathew. Oh my god, it's so good!" There was something about the way she said it that I'll never forget. It wasn't just Mom accommodating me by talking dirty as I had asked, it felt like her making a confession too. She wanted this, wanted me, and whatever feelings of shame or guilt she may have felt abut that before were now gone.

I could feel her body convulsing beneath me as she let out a monstrous wail, followed by her yelling out loud that she was cumming. Maybe Mom was more vocal in bed than I had previously acknowledged, or perhaps I simply awakened her wild side. She certainly did that and everything more for me. All I know is that hearing her enraptured voice thrilled me to no end. I just kept going, banging the hell out of her, enjoying the best sex of my life.

That first orgasm of hers seemed to serve as a prelude, as she began shouting "yes, yes" again once we fell back into our steady fucking rhythm, and only about a minute later, she cried out that she was cumming again. This time, I came with her, ramming my cock all the way in and releasing a torrent of cum into her welcoming womb.

After it was over, I pulled out and Mom and I once again lay together in each other's arms. I was overcome with that feeling you can only get from cumming that good with someone you care about so much, looking deep into Mom's eyes and watching her return my gaze with one of those beautiful, womanly, post orgasmic smiles.

"That... that was something," she finally said.

"Mom, I... I want you to know that I meant everything I said to you before about us being together. You're not alone anymore, and you never will be."

"I know, baby, I know," she replied, breaking into the faintest of grins and getting slightly choked up with emotion. I could tell she was as exhausted as I was, but oh, so happy too.

"I'm going to call in sick for work tomorrow. I know you don't like it when I do that, but I want to spend the entire day with you. Plus, I feel like we have a lot to discuss."

Mom immediately nodded in agreement, silently acknowledging that I was correct.

"We can go shopping too," she said, cheekily adding, "for a new bed—preferably a larger one with much better springs."

I loved her joke and laughed, but I felt even better knowing that she was accepting the new relationship we were about to embark upon together. I told her that I loved her, and she replied with the same, fully aware that we meant it in a way that was entirely different from the times we'd said it to each other in the past. The path forward was an uncertain one, but we'd face it together, and that was all that mattered.

To be continued...