40 comments/ 232439 views/ 260 favorites A Temporary Depravity By: DetectiveSpecialist ***- All characters in this story are fictional, and are eighteen years or older. * I don't know why I did it. I guess I just wasn't thinking. I had something important to tell my mother, so I walked down the hall to my parent's room, opened the door, and just walked in. The sight that I was greeted to was amazing. To my left was the mesmerizing view of my mother naked, save for a pair of thong panties, thigh high stockings, and high heels, bending over the sink in the master bathroom. I stood there in the middle of the bedroom spellbound while I leered at her long shapely legs, and the sublime curve of her ass with just a wisp of material up her crack. Her round voluptuous cheeks were separated by just the thin strip of her thong. Her breasts, full and wonderful with petite red nipples, reflected in the bathroom mirror. And as I stood there admiring this goddess of a woman, she looked in that mirror and noticed that I was standing there in the room. "Patrick! What are you doing in here?" She screamed as she whipped around, covered her breasts with her hand and forearm, and made a dash for me. I stood there stunned as my mind, like a camera, recorded every image: her raven black hair falling down upon her naked shoulders, the curve of her hips as they gracefully became her thin waste, the bulge of her pubic mound against the silky black material of her thong, how her high heels made her legs seem long and lean, and the cute way she tried to hide her tits behind an arm bra. "You shouldn't be seeing you mother naked like this!" She said looking aghast as she tried to shoo me out of the room. She was a revelation standing there in that pretty little black thong, and I don't know why I said it, it was meant to be just a thought in my head, but it slipped out. "Oh my God, you are so beautiful." I croaked. "Just get out," she said as she gave me a wonderful, loving smile, and pushed me out of the room. I was still in shock as I stood in the second floor hallway of our house. The image of her naked, was forever burnt into my brain. How could this temptress in a thong and high heels be my mother. The rest of the evening was uneventful, as my father came home from work, and they got ready to go out for the evening, and celebrate their anniversary. "Mom I'm sorry," I said to her as she came into my room to say goodbye. She looked captivating in a little black dress that she wore for the occasion. The thing was, it was shorter, tighter, and showed more cleavage than any dress that I had ever seen her wear before. As I sat at my desk, I couldn't look her in the eye because I was so ashamed, but as she bent over to kiss me, my eyes strayed down to her cleavage, and the spray of freckles across her chest. "We'll talk about it tomorrow," she said mirthfully as she stood up, and then she just stood there with her hand out to her side. "Well?" She asked. "What?" I said totally confused. I had all sorts of strange thoughts in my head. "How do I look? You're supposed to tell your mother how great she looks" "You look fine," I said bashfully, with the thought of her naked still retained in my mind. "Just fine?" She asked playfully. "You look great." I smiled, relieved by her joking. "Tell me what I want to hear. Tell me what you said before." Again I looked away bashfully, but I said what she wanted to hear. "You are so beautiful," I said emphasizing the word, so. "That's what mama wants to hear," she said smiling, but then the smile went from her face. "Are you going out tonight?" She asked. "It's Friday night," I answered her question with a question. "Where?" "Out!" "I know out, Where out?" "Mom I said frustrated. "It's only seven O'clock. I haven't even talked to my friends yet." "Okay, I guess you will be gone when your father and I come back. Don't stay out too late." She lectured. "Okay. Okay." I said frustrated by the lecture. This was the "mom" part of my mom. It was a duality that was to occur over and over again from now on. One minute she's looking all hot in some provocative outfit, and the next minute she's chiding me about picking up my underwear. "Well goodnight," she said, and as she turned and walked out my door. I watched the sway of her ass in that clingy, silky, "catch-me fuck-me" dress. It was an epiphany to me that this woman, who I had previously known just as mom, was a sexy, sensual seductress. My mother is a paradox. On casual observation she could easily be mistaken for a pampered woman of means. You've probably seen a women like her, in your home town. She would be that thin elegant woman with dark impeccable hair that you see behind the wheel of a luxury sports sedan as you cruise down any street in America. She would, presumably, be on her way to an appointment at some nail salon, or off to some day spa for a day of indulgence with the girls. Or maybe she was that fashionably dressed women that you saw at the mall with the perfect bag and the perfect shoes, and the perfect figure entering some high end store. Yet, despite how you may prejudge her, she wasn't the pretentious bitch that that image might portray. Instead she was an incredibly approachable, gregarious woman with an incredibly warm smile who had to work a full time job just to maintain that lifestyle. A woman who bought that luxury sedan second-hand, off lease after having driven a minivan for the last ten years. A minivan, which on numerous occasions, was filled with screaming boys on a Saturday mornings en route to a little league, or soccer game. She was that woman. She made friends slowly, but for life. She was an average housewife who saw fashion as a calling, and knew, that like it or not, fashion was geared to the young and thin, and so maintaining her figure became not only a second job, but an obsession. After my parents left that night, perverse thoughts of my naked mother tormented me. Though later I felt guilty and disgusted with myself. So that night, as I stood at the bar with my friends, I tried in vain to wash every disturbing memory of it out of my consciousness with alcohol. The next morning I woke up with a blistering hang over, and the memory of a sex dream dancing in my head. I would like to say that it was of some girl that I was trying in vain to make time with the night before, but it wasn't. It was of my mom, and I cringed as the specter of her naked beneath me flashed into my mind. My disgust with myself didn't stop me from jerking off my morning wood. At first I fought it, but when I couldn't come, I relented and fantasized to the dream I had the night before. I remembered in my dream the color of my mother's skin as I fucked her. I took a shower, and tried in vain to shake the cobwebs from my brain. It was noon on Saturday, and as I looked out my bedroom window, I noticed that my father's car was gone from the driveway. I threw on a pair of shorts, and a t-shirt and made my way down stairs to the kitchen. I was a sophomore in college at the time. While my older brother had scored a full ride on a Lacrosse scholarship, I opted for a community college to save money. We weren't poor by any means, and my parents gave my brother and I money for college, but not enough to pay for all four years, not to mention graduate work. My philosophy was that, since I had no idea what I wanted to major in, why spend the money on a four year college until I knew somewhat what I wanted to do. Then I would transfer later to a four year school. That decision left only my parents and I in the house. I was also going through a tough time in my life. The girl that I had dated for a year had just broken up with me. I had no idea that there was a problem, and so the breakup came as quite a shock to me. Later I found out, through some friends of hers, that she had been seeing some other guy on the side. The whole situation put me into a depression, and made me a little bit insecure. The ironic thing was that I wasn't even that much into her until after the breakup. My mom was in the kitchen when I got there, dressed in a baggy pair of shorts and one of dad's old jerseys. It was as if there was a new person in my life. She was casually dressed, with her hair pulled back in a pony tail, she had no makeup on, and she was wearing her reading glasses, yet she was still held my attention. She was in her early forties, had two college age kids, yet she was still an elegant, graceful woman. "Where's dad?" I asked as I poured myself a cup of coffee. "Sit down," she said. "We need to talk." I sensed a sorrow in her voice that I didn't expect. "What?" I asked as I sat at the kitchen island where we took most of our meals. "Did you happen to notice that your dad slept in your brother's old room last night?" "No," I said with a questioning tone. "Your dad moved out," she blurted out, and started to cry. "What?" I said as I got up from my stool and took her in my arms. She was trembling from the tears, and I hate to admit it, but she felt so good up against me as I tried to comfort her. Finally, she got a hold of herself, and she was able to tell me what was going on. "Your dad and I have been having troubles for some time now." "But you guys went out last night for your anniversary?" "Yeah, that's when he announced he was leaving; at dinner. The schmuck." "I don't understand," I stated. "Sit down," she said, and I sat back down. "I thought that if we went out and had a nice dinner, we could work it out. I even bought sexy lingerie for him. Part of it you saw last night, but that's another conversation we must have. I went all out. I don't normally wear thongs, but your father loves them, and I even wore a thigh high stockings and push-up bra for him. I thought that maybe I could light a spark in our relationship." Now this was unusual for my mom to be so explicit about her intimate apparel, but I have to admit, as she was describing her sexy little outfit, I recalled how she looked in it, all except the bra of course. That was the degree of debauchery that I had sunk to. "But there I was," she went on, "in my little cocktail dress, wearing all of this sexy underwear, and he tells me he found an apartment, and is moving out." She started to tear up again. I put my arm around her, but it didn't help. "Is there another woman?" I asked. "He says no, but who knows. He hasn't touched me in months, and he tells me that he doesn't love me any more." "I don't know what to say, Mom." "I'm so embarrassed. You should have seen me standing there in our bedroom, dressed in my little outfit and all, and he goes off to sleep in your brother's room." "I wish I had," I said under my breath. "But fuck him Mom. You don't need him. You are still a beautiful, vibrant woman, and you could have your pick of any man." "Thanks hon. You're sweet," she said and kissed me on the cheek. She went on and on after that about how they had been fighting a lot lately, how he didn't want to have sex with her anymore, and how he had been distant lately. She said that she knew something was up, but she thought that they could work it out. Until last night of course, when he lowered the boom. I, on the other hand, played the good son, telling her that he wasn't worth the effort, and that she was still attractive to men. "Well that brings up the other little talk we must have," she said to me sternly. "What the hell were you thinking, barging into my room like that?" "I don't know Mom. I guess I wasn't thinking. I had something important to tell you, but for the life of me, I can't remember what it was." "I probably scared it out of you. The image of your wrinkly old mother naked must have been quite a shock." I just smiled at her. She was obviously fishing for a compliment, and the image of her naked with those incredible tits, the way her thong highlighted her hips and ass, and how those stiletto heels showed off her long legs, was still fresh in my mind. "All I can say is that I when I saw you in that little outfit, well I...," I blushed. "Patrick!! You are so naughty!" She shouted. "But you are good for my shattered ego." And she laughed despite her troubles. "Well can I?" "Can you what?" "Get to see you in that little outfit again?" "I think that you have already seen enough of your mother's body this weekend." And she tousled my hair and walked out of the kitchen. My dad called me later that afternoon to tell me his side of the story. I asked him straight out if there was another woman. He avoided the subject, but he didn't deny it either. So I knew that there was. Of course that made me angry. If it was true, he should have been a man and admitted it, instead of beating around the bush. I loved my father, but I lost a lot of respect for him that day, and it took years for me to come to terms with him and the new girlfriend that we were later introduced to. Life was different after that day. But back to me and my new found depravity. A few days later, I had come home from my job to find no one at home. Mom must have been shopping, and Dad was already in his new apartment. I took a shower, and as I was dumping my work clothes in the laundry room, when I noticed a pile of my mother's clothes waiting to be washed. I couldn't help myself. I was like a man possessed. I rummaged through her things and came upon the object of my desire. It was a pair of pink, iridescent panties. I hesitated at first, ashamed of my behavior, but then I picked them up and immediately my whole body was on fire. It was like I was sixteen again, and saw my first naked girl. Slowly I put them up to my nose, and I could smell her perfume on them. Then I immersed my nose in the crotch of that pink treasure, and I could smell her; musky and dark. I was aflame with desire. I quickly took out the erection which had grown hard in my pants. I jerked off, with her panties on my face, into the wet towel from my shower. I was insane with lust, and it took only a few minutes. God, I thought, there really is something wrong with me. I put her laundry back where I found it, and went downstairs. Mom came home from work a half hour later. Something had changed in her over the last few days. It must have been about the separation, but instead of brooding, she was acting livelier. Even her attire was different. She had always dressed professionally. Usually in a woman's suit with a knee length skirt, and a simple white blouse, but that day it was pencil skirts with a high slit, and her blouse was unbuttoned so much that I could easily see her bra. "I'm sorry that I'm late, but I had to pick up take-out for dinner. I haven't had time to go shopping." "Okay," I said as I took the opportunity to look down her blouse as she occupied herself with putting the food bag on the counter. She had on a plunging white lace bra that I could see without much effort. I didn't know what was going on, but I was enjoying the view. "It's Mexican. You like Mexican, don't you?" She asked, and quickly looked up at me. I don't know if she caught me starring down her blouse, but she had a nice smile for me, so I guess it didn't matter if she did. "Yes Mom. I like Mexican. Who doesn't?" We had dinner, and we chatted about our day. After dinner she got dressed for her twice a week yoga class, and when she came downstairs she was decked out in her yoga wear. Yet again her attire was on the racy side. She walked into the kitchen in just a white sports bra, and black leggings. She turned around and bent over to get a water bottle out of the frig. My God, I thought, how could this woman have such an incredible ass, and I had never noticed it before. Because she's your mom, I told myself. "Does this yoga class have any men in it?" I asked. "No. It's a yoga class. Why do you ask?" "Because you are going to turn a lot of heads with that outfit on." "Why do you think that its inappropriate?" She asked looking down at what she had on. "No. Not if there's no men in the class." "Why? Do you think momma looks sexy?" She said in her best breathless voice. "I think that if you want to attract a guy, you have on the right outfit." She came around the counter and sat on my lap. Oh God, I thought, does she know what she is doing to me? "You do, don't you? You think mamma looks sexy," she said in that same sexy voice, and then she ran her fingers through my hair. "Mom!" I protested, but I did so to hide the fact that I was enjoying it. "Come on. You like when sexy mamma sits on your lap." She then swung around and straddled me on the stool. My God. My hard on was in direct contact with her crotch. It was like she was giving me a lap dance. "Mom really," I said. I couldn't believe that she was doing this, and I wondered if she could feel my stiff cock against her pussy. She put her arms around my neck, and kissed me on the forehead. Her tits were sticking right in my face as she did it. "Baby," she said as she sat back down in my lap. "You know that I'm not going out to find another man. I still want your father to come to his senses, and move back home." "I know mom," I said, though I knew the futility of that wish. "I better go," she said, jumped off my lap, grabbed her water bottle and workout mat, and ran out the kitchen. "I'll see you later Pat," she yelled as I saw that pretty little ass of hers go out the door. I couldn't believe it. My own mother was nothing but a tease. She got me all hot and bothered, and then she ran away. I had a raging hard on, and no way of getting rid of it. I went back upstairs, found another pair of her panties, and jerked off, but this time I came in the panties. The material felt exquisite against my cock as I rubbed one out. You have to know that using my mother's panties to jerk off into was the farthest I ever thought about going. I had no intention to act on my perversion. It was bad enough that I was doing dirty disgusting things with my mother's underwear. I did the laundry that night. I had to. I had just jerked off into her panties. I couldn't leave them on the floor of the laundry room dripping with jism. But like I said, I had no intention of doing anything. I was content in my new found hobby. I didn't dare risk anything crazier. But sometimes fate has a hand in our endeavors. That night I was awoken out of my sleep by a noise in the kitchen downstairs. My mother's door was closed as I slinked into the hall. I assumed she was in bed asleep so I made my way downstairs to investigate. The kitchen light was on as I approached, so I wasn't concerned that it was a burglar. When I walked through the door, I was surprised to see my mother cleaning the kitchen. It was weird to see her cleaning the kitchen at two in the morning, but it was even more unusual since she was dressed in only a thin little tank top and a pair of panties. Not my mother's usual dress. "Mom what are you doing," I asked as I tried to wipe the sleep out of my eyes. "This house is so dirty. I've got to get it clean before your father comes home," she said robotically. "Mom, what are you talking about? It's two in the morning," "Do you remember where we put the toilet bowl cleaner?" She wasn't looking at me though she was talking to me. I got the sense that she wasn't there mentally. "What? The toilet bowl cleaner?" I had never cleaned a toilet in my life. And then I realized what was wrong. I had never seen this before, but my father used to tease my mother about how she would sleep walk when she was stressed out. He used to laugh saying that he'd wake up in the middle of the night, and my mother would be cleaning out the attic. A Temporary Depravity I smiled at the silliness of it, but then as she approached me in the kitchen and I saw how that thin tank top did nothing to hide mom's tits, I realized I had a unique opportunity. My cock grew hard in my boxers. She must have pulled her hair up on top of her head before she went to bed, but now it was mostly in disarray with strands going this way and that. She looked disheveled but cute. The thin material of her top was so see-through and tight that it was like I was seeing her naked again. I could see her aureoles and nipples right through the top, and the synthetic material wrapped around each boob like it was painted on. I was in my glory, I could just stare at her without worry. She then turned around and started to clean the counter. I watched her ass shake as she scrubbed. Just when I thought it couldn't get any better, she got up on her toes, and bent over to clean the far end. Her ass was sitting up so pretty before me. I easily could have dropped my shorts and slipped my dick into her. Then my mom, still in her trance, walked over to reach under the sink for the phantom toilet bowl cleaner, and I got a different view of her ass and pubic mound. She was wearing what women call cheeky boy shorts, and half of her ass cheeks were hanging out the bottom. It wasn't until she got up with the cleaner in her hand, and started for the bathroom that I snapped out of it, and took her by the hand. "It's okay mom, I cleaned the bathroom this morning," I lied. "You did?" "Yes Mom, I did. Now come back upstairs." I took the cleaner out of her hand placed it on the counter, and then led her back to bed. I got her into bed without too much fuss, and as I pulled the sheet up over her body I must admit that I thought of climbing in with. Her tits were just so perfect sitting there beckoning to me. "Patrick you are such a good boy," my mom said which killed my fantasy. "You were so cute the other day when you saw me naked. You thought mommy was sexy, didn't you?" I didn't answer. I just smiled at her. "I know it's strange to admit, but I actually got a thrill out of it," She had to be asleep to admit something like that to me. "I liked the way you looked at me. It made me feel sexy." She hesitated for a while. "You do think I'm sexy, don't you Patrick?" "Yes Mom. I do." "You are a good boy Patrick," she said and then turned over and went to sleep. I in turn went to the laundry room, found a pair of her panties in the dirty clothes pile, and jerked off into them. I was pathetic. Something had changed in me. My mom was still the same woman that she had always been, except being a little heart broken, and certainly wearing more provocative attire, but essentially the same woman. Somehow I had changed, the fact that I would look at her so lustfully just confirmed it. It wasn't as if I didn't know that my mom was pretty. Of course I knew my mom was pretty. I've had enough people tell me over the years how pretty she was. It was just that I had never actually looked at her sexually. That had certainly changed. About a week or two later on a Tuesday afternoon I got a text from my mom. "goin out with the girls from work. Dinner in frig. C u when I get home. Luv Mom." Now I didn't think anything of it. She would, on occasion, go out for happy hour with friends. So I went home, ate dinner by myself, and then watched TV. I got a few texts from her over the course of the evening so I wasn't concerned when she wasn't home by ten. I had to get up early the next morning, so I went to bed. I was just happy that she was out having a good time for once. About midnight I was awoken out of a dead sleep. It was my mom. She was sitting on the edge of my bed, and she was drunk. "Honey, are you awake," she slurred. "Mom is that you?" I asked trying to see her. She had left the hallway light on, and my eyes were having a hard time adjusting. Something was wrong. I could tell that she had been crying. "Are you just getting home?" "I'm sorry baby. I just needed to talk to you." "What's wrong mom?" I said and sat up on an elbow. "It's your father. I found out that for the past year he's being seeing another woman," she said as she began to sob. "Ah shit!" I exclaimed, but I wasn't surprised. I just felt sorry for my mother. She had such hopes that he would come home. Now she knew that he was gone for good. "I'm sorry baby. I shouldn't have woken you up. I didn't know what else to do." "What happened?" I asked. "It was my girlfriend Jen. You know her, the pretty young one. Well she said that she heard a while back that someone saw him in a restaurant with some woman, and they were kissing." "Oh Christ!" I said. "She didn't want to tell me, but we both got a little drunk, and she just came out with it." "Oh God mom. Are you okay?" "No baby, I'm not. Can I sleep here with you? I don't want to be alone tonight." "In my bed?" I asked startled. The question took me off guard. "I'm sorry baby. It's a bad idea. Forget it." "No Mom. It's okay. Come on," I said ashamed of my behavior. "Really?" "Of course." "Okay. Can I wear one of your t-shirts to bed?" "Yeah. Sure." Well she got up, albeit a little tipsy, and walked over to my dresser. Now I thought she would go into another room to change, but there, not five feet away from me, she took out a t-shirt, shimmied out of her skirt, unbuttoned her blouse, and as she did I could see her white lace bra which plunged down revealing her tremendous cleavage. She then turned away from me, and unhooked her bra, letting it fall to the floor. In the light from the hall I saw the image of my mother, naked except for a pair of white string bikini panties. This wasn't good. She wasn't even in the bed yet, and my cock was already as hard as a rock. She then slipped the t-shirt over her head, and came back to my bed. My bed is only a twin bed that I've had since I was five. My room is kind of on the small side, and this was the only size bed that could fit. Now I was scooting over in this tiny bed, and holding up the sheet so that mom could sleep next to me. "Hold me baby. I need you to hold me," she cooed. We spooned together in that little bed, my cock hard as a rock pressed up against her ass. Thank God she's drunk, I thought. Otherwise she would know for sure that I had an erection. "Do you want to talk Mom?" I asked in the dark. Her hair was soft in my face. "No baby. Just hold me like you are doing. I just need someone to hold me." "Okay Mom," I said and I was about to try and fall asleep again, but then she spoke. "Honey, do you think that I am pretty?" "What?" I asked. She had to be very drunk. "Do you think that I am sexy and pretty?" "Mom. I don't know." "Two weeks ago you told me that you thought I was beautiful." "Yes, and I still do "Did you say that just because you think that you have a pretty mom, or did you say that because you saw me naked?" "Mom!" "Honey, I'm over forty, and the only man I ever loved just left me for a younger woman. I need to know. Did you say that because you think that I was sexy? "Yes," I said in the dark with her hair in my face, her perfume filling my senses, my arm around her waist, and my hard cock deep in the crack of her ass. "Yes I think that you are pretty and sexy. Now go to sleep," I said wondering how I had gotten in this situation. We then both fell asleep. I awoke some time later to the sound of my mother's voice. It was still night, and the hall light was still shinning in my room. "Edward," my mother called out my father's name. "Just go to sleep." I tried to calm her. We were still spooning and my cock was still pressing against her ass through my boxers. "When did you get home honey?" "It's okay Mom. Go to sleep." "Oh baby I missed you so much." Now I don't know if she was still drunk, asleep, or a combination of both, but she thought I was my father, and she rolled over slightly, and went right for my rigid cock. I couldn't move because I was up against the wall in that tiny bed. "You are so hard. Do you want to make love?" She was kneading my cock through my shorts, and then she kissed me hard on the lips. Before I knew it her tongue was in my mouth. I don't know if it was just a reaction, or that I had been lusting for her for the last few weeks, but I met her tongue with my own. "Baby I want you," she said breaking our kiss, and pulling my cock out of my boxers. She wrapped her two fingers around the head of my cock and tenderly stroked me. "You like that don't you honey." " Please stop," I was able to mutter, though it felt so incredible. "Don't you want to make love to me? I want you to." And then, with the deftness of a woman who had done this so many times before for her husband, she rolled over facing me, and took full hold of my raging organ. "You want me to just jerk you off, is that it?" "Uh huh," I managed to get out as she pulled her t-shirt up and over her breasts with her free hand. She was beautiful in the faint light from the hall. I could see her large breasts, her thin waist, her full hips, and the way her pubic mound pressed firmly against her panties. She was really good at hand jobs. "That feel good honey?" "Yes." "Do you want to stick your cock between my tits?" "Yes." I couldn't believe I said that. She slid down my body, and the next thing that I knew, I had my dick between my mother's beautiful tits. She just used her hands to push them up and together for me as I slid in and out of them. "Fuck my tits Ed. I want you to come on my face." God, I thought, why would my dad ever want to leave this woman? She was beautiful, had a kickin' body, and was a whore in the bedroom. I had my hand on her shoulder as I pushed my cock deep into her tits. I looked at my mother's beautiful face, and then I watched as my cock fucked those huge tits with those big red nipples. I thought how much I wanted to fuck her pussy, and as I thought about it, I started to come. "I love you Ed," she said as I grunted and she felt me explode into her face. I pumped into her over and over as I orgasmed. I had to have ejaculated a sea of come on her, and then I stopped exhausted by it all. After a few minutes I slipped out when my cock deflated, and she fell asleep. I lay in the bed wondering to myself, what had I done? I just fucked my own mother's tits, and she was so drunk that she didn't know who I was. Even though I didn't penetrate her pussy, it was rape. I knew enough from sensitivity classes at school that if you have sex with someone who is very drunk, then it is rape. I had just raped my own mother. It goes without saying that I couldn't sleep the rest of the night, and when it got close enough to the time when I was to get up for work, I slipped out of bed like a thief in the night. I sat in the parking lot of work for a half hour drinking coffee, and waiting for my boss to show up. I felt as guilty as if I had just murdered someone, and was now waiting for the police to come arrest me. I was in hell. She will know. She will know we had sex. It was inevitable that she will see the wet spot in the morning, and find herself wet and filled with my come. What was I to do? The rest of the day was hell. I hadn't slept, and I was racked with guilt. My boss even offered to send me home because I was like a zombie all day, but that was the last place I wanted to go, and so I stuck it out. I didn't hear from my mom all that day. Normally I would get at least a text from her, but not that day. More reason to believe that she knew that I fucked her while she lay comatose in my bed. But then I thought about it. She didn't lay comatose in bed. She was the aggressor. I had asked her to stop, and she made me fuck her tits. This wasn't quite the truth, and I knew it, but it assuaged my guilt for the time being. Besides I needed some kind of defense when she confronted me, and I knew she would confront me that night. She wasn't home when I got home from work, but that was normal since I started earlier, and she would often put in some overtime if things were busy. I went upstairs to the scene of the crime, and my bed had been made. I pulled back the comforter, and the sheets had been changed. "Oh shit," I exclaimed as I sat on the bed. I felt like crying. How do you explain to your mom why you fucked her the night before? No. How do you explain to her why you raped her the night before? About an hour later I heard her car pull into the driveway. I waited till she got into the house before I went downstairs to greet her. I didn't want to wait for her to seek me out. I was sick of this hanging over my head. "Hi honey," she said as I walked into the kitchen and she was pulling Chinese food out of a bag. "Take out again tonight. I'm sorry, I'm not in the mood to make dinner." "Its okay mom. You know I can start dinner before you get home." "You can?" She asked with some surprise. "You can cook?" "Well nothing fancy. I can cook hot dogs and hamburgers on the grill." "Okay, we can have that tomorrow. They are in the freezer, and I think we have rolls." We started to eat, but it was mostly in silence which was rare for us. Maybe she's tired I thought, but then she spoke up. "Honey, we need to talk." She always started out that way when there was a serious subject to discuss. "Yeah Ma?" "I guess I came home really drunk last night?" "Yeah. A little." "Who's idea was it for me to sleep in your bed?" "Yours." "I don't remember. I got some really bad news last night about your father." "I know you told me." "I did?" "Yes you were very upset. That's why you wanted to sleep with me." "Oh." I could see the process going on in her head. That explained that, but I knew there was something more. "Honey, did you have a nocturnal emission last night?" A nocturnal emission? Oh, a wet dream, I realized to myself. "No. Ma." I knew where she was going with this, but I didn't volunteer anything. "Cause I had to change the sheets, and I also noticed..." She stopped and thought of how she was going to phrase it. "Honey, did something happen between us last night?" I didn't answer her. I just closed my eyes and lowered my head. I couldn't look at her. "Because in the morning you were gone, and I noticed that my chest and face was all sticky with something that smelled and felt like semen." She stopped again, not wanting to say what she was going to say. Not wanting to ask what she needed to ask. "Honey, did we have sex?" Again I didn't answer her. I just put my head in my hands, and I wanted to cry. What could I say to her. Yeah Mom, while you were drunk, I came on your tits and face. "Honey, did we?' "Yes," I said quietly through my hands that were over my face. "I'm sorry!" "How? Why? I don't understand." "You were drunk, and upset, and you woke up in the middle of the night and thought I was dad. It happened all so fast. You thought you were coming on to dad." "I initiated it?" "Yes." "But you still went through with it knowing full well that you were having sex with your mother?" "Yes." "And you ejaculated on me?" "Yes." I finally looked up at her. She had a look of horror on her face, and she had her hand in front of her mouth like she couldn't believe what was being said. "I don't understand. Why?" "I don't know. Ever since I saw you naked that night, I've been thinking about you differently." "How so?" "You are so beautiful, and with such a great body that I wanted to have sex with you." "You've been thinking of me that way?" "Yes!" "But I'm your mother?" "I know. I'm weird. I'm abnormal." "I don't know what to say. I think that what you did was abnormal, but I don't think that you are abnormal." "What do you mean?" "Well this morning after I found what I believed to be dried semen on the bed and on my breasts, I knew something happened, and I couldn't talk to anyone at work, so I looked it up on line. Apparently it is not abnormal for a boy to have sexual feelings towards his mother." "Okay," I said tentatively. Was I being absolved of my guilt? "But it is usually resolved before a boy hits maturity, not started then." "Oh." I realized that I was not out of the woods. "What you did was wrong, and I think that you realize it. But in your defense, not many grown sons get to see their mom in just a thong, and even fewer sleep with their moms when their moms are drunk and needy." "Uh-huh," I said not knowing what to say or if I was still in trouble. "How did I get undressed?" "You kind of stripped right in front of me." "I did?" "Yes." "So you saw me naked again?" "Well you still had your panties on." "Oh then, that's not so bad then, is it," she said sarcastically. "It was nice." I knew right away that it was the wrong thing to say. She was starting to see things from my side of the story. "It's not funny. I don't know what I'm going to do with an oversexed son in the house. What am I supposed to do, wear a burka?" "I don't know if I'd like that," I said still making light of the subject. "It's not so funny. Here's something that I'm sure you didn't think about," she said all serious again. "But you came in your mother's face. " I didn't know what to say. She sounded really mad. "That's right smart ass. You had your fun last night, and I had my son's semen in my mouth!." We finished dinner in silence, and that night I hardly made it to nine O'clock before I passed out from exhaustion, both physical and mental. For the next week it was awkward between my mother and me. I felt better that she had come to terms with what happened between us, but I didn't think that she had forgiven, and certainly not forgotten. I looked at myself and saw a disturbed person. Sometime later I had to endure another confrontation. "We should talk," My mom said as I made the mistake of letting my eyes linger on her body too long. "Now?" I cringed. I didn't want to talk about how abnormal I was, and how I shouldn't be lusting after my mother. "Yes now. I have a doctors visit this afternoon, and I know that you will be out with your friends tonight." "Okay," I said surrendering. "What do you want to talk about?" "I don't know. How are you feeling about what happened?" That's the thing about women. They always want to talk about what happened, and how you are feeling about it. It was something that I wanted to forget about, not talk about. "I don't know." "How do you feel about me?" "What do you mean?" She shook her head in frustration. I knew what she meant, and I was making her drag it out of me. "Do you still feel the same way about me?" She asked with a bit of attitude. "I don't know. I guess." "Do you fantasize about me when you masturbate?" "MOM!" "Do you?" "Yes. Okay. I'm still abnormal." "And you still want to have sex with me?" "Mom!" "Answer the question." "Yes, okay?" "What are we going to do about this?" "Nothing. Do we have to do something? Let's just forget about it, and keep it to ourselves. I don't want to talk about this anymore." I got up and walked out of the kitchen. What was even more disturbing was that I was getting aroused by her talking like that. I got a hard on just thinking about her asking me if I wanted to have sex with her. Later that afternoon she came into my room. There was something different. She was dressed differently. After ten days of awkwardness, and ten days of her dressing very conservatively, she was some how different. It wasn't like she was standing in my room naked, but still she was wearing a coral colored blouse, and she must have had a push up bra underneath because she was busting out of the blouse wonderfully. Also, she had on white shorts, and I could see that she had a thong on underneath. A Temporary Depravity "I'm leaving now for the doctors. You'll be okay." "Yeah Mom. I'm okay. You look very pretty." I tried to make it sound like I said it in passing, though she did look very sexy. "Uhm, thanks," she responded. "It is okay for me to tell you that you look pretty?" "Yes," she said as she kissed me on the head. "I like when you tell me I'm pretty." "Well you look great," I said still feeling awkward. "Thanks," she said, and I sensed that she felt awkward too, but it was a good type of awkwardness, as if we had turned a corned. As she traipsed out of my room and walked down the hall, I felt compelled to watch her ass, and she turned around just in time to catch me checking her out. I expected a frown, but instead she gave me a big smile. The next day she was up and gone when I awoke. That's not unusual since on Sundays I usually sleep to at least noon. Things were getting back to normal, and I was glad that she felt comfortable enough to wear sexy things around me again. I'm not saying that I was comfortable. I still had the same feelings, and now I knew how it felt to have her naked beside me. I just had to learn how to hide my feelings. That couldn't be so hard, I told myself. Mom cam home later loaded with packages. "Shopping?" I asked as she came into the kitchen, and I was sitting on the couch drinking coffee. "I went to the mall to get your Aunt Emma a birthday present, and one of the stores was having a huge sale." "What store?" I asked, and she mentioned a store that I wouldn't think that she would shop at. It was a high end store that catered to a younger crowd. I held my tongue though, because I didn't want to insult her. "What did you get?" "Come up stairs and I'll show you." "Okay, I said and slowly got off of the couch. I was a little hung over being that I was out with my friends the night before. Now it's a strange thing about when I'm hung over. For some reason, I usually get unusually horny. I met her in her bedroom and sat on the bed as she began to show me what she had bought. The stuff looked cute, but unless I saw it on her I couldn't picture it. "What about this one," she asked holding up a blouse. "It's nice." "Just nice?" "I don't know. I have to see it on." "Okay, she said happily. We'll have a fashion show." She grabbed her stuff and went into the master bath. This was a family tradition for us, though when I was younger I didn't get as much joy out of it as I was going to this day. She emerged a few minutes later wearing a pretty red blouse and jeans, and she looked great it them. She spun around to give me the rear view, and asked the inevitable question. "Do these jeans make my ass look fat?" And as she said it she stood on her toes to give the effect of having on high heels. The jeans were stunning. Like a second skin. Her ass looked just incredible, and I felt a boner growing large in my pants. "No Mom. You have a great ass." "Thanks hon." She ran into the bathroom and a few minutes later she came out in a blouse and shorts. She repeated this over and over, and each time the outfit got just a little bit more sexy. The shorts got shorter and tighter. Blouses had either deep plunging necklines or were cropped short to show her stomach. The last outfit was the best. It was a pair of white shorts that were so short and tight, that I don't know how she got into them. and the blouse was just as tight with a neckline that left nothing to the imagination. "What do you think?" "Incredible. How did you get them on?" "It was an effort, but I think it was worth it. They look sexy don't they." She had to know the effect that this parade was having on me. She looked so hot, that I was about to burst. "Mom you look sensational." I tried to stay away from saying sexy. "Really?" "Really sensational." "Not sexy?" "Mom, what do you want me to say? You threatened to wear a burka around me." "I did didn't I. But I've had a change of heart'" she said smiling at me. "Let me show you the bathing suit I bought." And then she ran back into the bathroom. Oh God, I thought. My heart was beating so fast that I thought I was going to explode. How did it ever come to this. After what seemed like a year, my mother opened the door, and a vision of beauty walked out. She was wearing a bikini. I had never seen my mother in two piece, never mind a bikini, but this wasn't any simple bikini. This was a black string bikini, with more string than bikini with material as flimsy as it was sparse. "Wow!" Was all that I could say. "You like huh?" "Yes." We didn't say much. I lusted for her silently and she seemed to be enjoying the attention, because her nipples were sticking straight out of that swimsuit. "You said that you had a change of heart. What did that mean?" I asked tentatively. "Well I still don't condone what you did, but I might have had some responsibility for what happened." "And?" "I have to admit that, on occasion, how do I say this, I've enjoyed when you've looked at me." I could tell that this was one of those times. I shifted uneasily on the bed. My erection was wedged down in my shorts. "You have an erection, don't you?" She asked shyly. "Yes." "Because of me?" "Yes." "Oh my God," she said embarrassed, and put her hand to her mouth. Now right at that time I couldn't stand it anymore, because my cock was so hard and it was crammed down so far in my pants. The fact was, that I was in a little pain. She had just mentioned my condition, which made me think that it would be okay just to fix it. So I put my hand on my cock through my pants, and straightened it out. "Oh my God," my mother said again. "You're going to masturbate, aren't you?" And she turned around so that she couldn't see. Now it wasn't my intention, but since the subject had been broached, and she wasn't running out of the room screaming, so I pushed it a bit. "Is that okay," I asked tentatively. "I guess," she said though she seemed amazed at the thought, but who was I to let an opportunity like this get away. So I unzipped my shorts and slid them and my boxers off leaving my cock waving in the breeze. This was just what I had asked for, I thought as I stroked my member, and starred at my mother's cute ass with her cheeks sticking out the sides. "Are you jerking off?" She asked hoarsely. "Yes," I answered deviously. "I can't believe this. I'm standing here practically naked, and my son is jerking off right before my eyes." "Well not actually before your eyes." "What do you mean? You want me to watch you?" She sounded stunned. "Okay," I said thinking, why not, she asked didn't she? "Oh shit," she exclaimed, and I didn't think she would, but then she turned around. Though she was looking off to the side, and not directly at me. "Is this what you want?" "It's okay," I said like a child who had ice cream, but wanted whip cream on top too. Mom closed her eyes, stamped her leg, and said, "You want to see more, don't you?" "Oh yeah!" "Patrick, I can't believe that I'm doing this for you," she said with feigned exasperation. Then with just a moments hesitation, she undid the string at her back, and then the string around her neck. She just stood there holding the bra over her tits. "Mom, let me see your tits," I pleaded as I stroked myself. She closed her eyes again and shook her head tolerantly. "Well it's not like you haven't seen them before." And then she let her hands drop, and her tits sprang out at me. I don't know what I liked jerking off to better, my mom's cute ass in that wisp of material she called a bikini, or her tits gloriously poised in front of me. My cock somehow grew even stiffer. "Mom you are stunning," I said as I worked my cock. "Thanks. I guess," she said tolerantly, but I could tell she was enjoying this. I was enjoying it too, and I could easily have come right there, but I was possessed, and I wanted more. "Mom, come here," I ordered. "Absolutely not," she refused. "Jerk off all you want, but I'm not touching you." "Come on Mom, you know you want to touch it. When was the last time you held a cock in your hand?" "You little fucker," she said as she put her hand to her mouth, looked me in the eye, and then down at my cock. "Kneel down here in front of me," I said as I shifted my weight on her bed. With her hand still in front of her mouth, she slowly walked to the bed, and then dropped to her knees in front of me. She looked me straight in the eye, and then back down at my cock. "Give me you hand," I ordered as I held out my hand for hers. but then, never taking her eyes off of my cock, she moved her right hand past mine and grasped my cock. "I know how to give a hand job," she said silently, as she slowly started to jerk me off. "Oh God Mom, that feels so good." "Enjoy it," she stated forcefully. "because this is all that I am doing for you. And you better use you shirt or something, because you aren't coming on me again." "Oh God. Thanks Mom," was all that I could say as I closed my eyes and experienced the pleasure of my mother stroking my cock, and my God she was good at it too. But as I said, I was possessed, and I wanted more. When I opened my eyes again I found my mom sitting back on her legs, jerking me off, and starring at my cock. "It's a good looking cock, isn't it Mom," I said insidiously. "What?" She said as I woke her from her thoughts. "Um. Yeah." "You could almost call it handsome." She looked me in the eye as I sensed her getting more aroused. Her long steady strokes on my cock became irregular. "It makes you want to take it in your mouth, doesn't it?" "Patrick," she said almost pleading with me. "When was the last time you had a cock in your mouth Mom? Especially one so handsome?" "Patrick don't. I can't suck my own son's cock." "Why not Ma? It would be so easy to take it in your mouth right now, wouldn't it? No one can see. No one would know." "Oh God Patrick you fuck, what are you doing to me?" She asked rhetorically. "Go ahead Mom. Put it in your mouth. I know you want to. I sure want you to." "We are both going to burn in hell for this, Patrick." "I don't care Mom. I just want my cock in your mouth." "Okay," she said almost inaudibly. She got up on her knees again, swept her hair back and held it behind her, then bent down, and took me in her mouth. The feeling was indescribable. It was more than I could have wished for. I felt her lips glide over the head of my cock down the shaft and then back up again. "Faster Mom," I commanded and she dutifully obliged. I could feel her lips move quickly up and down my shaft. As good as she was with hand jobs, she was even better at blow jobs. My beautiful, voluptuous mother had my cock in her mouth and she was sucking it. The idea was just too intense. Every stroke sent me closer and closer to orgasm. Every time her lips slipped over the head of my dick was excruciating. She let her hair go, and it floated down over my thighs. I ran my fingers through it as I pushed her face deeper on my throbbing member. I couldn't stand it anymore, and as I pushed her down deeper on my cock, I came in my mother's mouth. "Oh God!" I shouted as I sent throb after throb of semen into her throat. Spent, I laid back on the bed, but my mom kept her mouth on my cock and her head in my lap. I basked in the glory of getting a blow job from my mother. She then got up, and I lifted my head enough to see her ass swaying back and forth in that string bikini as she headed for the bathroom. I was worried about her. What had I done? I got up and went into the bathroom. I was still naked, and my mother was clad only in that bikini bottom. She was standing in the bathroom looking at herself in that big mirror above the sink. She looked absolutely breathtaking. I put my arms around her sensing that she felt bad about what had just occurred. "Are you okay?" "No." "I'm sorry mom. I shouldn't have forced you to do it. I'm sorry." "You didn't force me to do anything," she contradicted me." It was I that seduced you. The fashion show was my idea." "I enjoyed it." "That's the problem. I did too. I just sucked my own son's cock, and I enjoyed it. When you came in my mouth, I almost had an orgasm too." I was getting turned on by her talking about it. My hand automatically went for her tit, and the other for her bikini bottom. "Patrick, please stop," she protested. "Let's see if we can get you that orgasm." "Let's not," she said but she didn't stop me. My hand unabated found her mound as I felt her pubic hair through my fingers. She then grabbed for my hand, but it was too late, I was already there. My middle finger found her slit, and I entered her. She was wet already. "Uhhh," she moaned. "Please stop." But my finger dove deep inside her and she moaned again and arched her back. I felt her sponginess as my finger explored her. She closed her eyes and I knew she was enjoying it. Her hand on my arm stopped trying to pull me out of her bikini bottom, and instead gripped my arm with some force as I found her clit. The fingers on my one hand massaged her clit as the fingers of the other massaged her nipple. "Oh God Patrick, what are you doing to me?" She moaned. She looked so beautiful as I watched her in the mirror. Her hair was rumpled and dark as it tickled my face, her expression sexually piqued, and her breasts were large and excited. I wanted to get my fist visual shot of her pussy and so I let go of her tit, and started to push her bikini down, but she caught my hand with hers. "No Patrick don't," she objected as she opened her eyes wide. "You can't fuck me." "I just want to see you mom. I want to see your pussy." She must have believed me because she let my hand go and pushed her bikini down herself. "Just don't stop doing what you're doing," she commanded as she closed her eyes and concentrated on my fingers. I was a little disappointed that she had more hair then I had expected. Not a bush, but I liked my women to be clean shaven. My eyes shot to her face instead. She was starting to come, and her rise in passion showed easily. Her breathing was shallow and quick as she opened her mouth wide. Her face started to contort and convulse. "Oh Eddy," she called my father's name as she reached orgasm. "Don't stop. Oh God Eddy don't stop. I want you to make me come Eddy." She used her hand on top of mine to guide me where and to show me how much rhythm. My cock, engorged again by the sight of my mother in the midst of her passion was sliding up and down the crack of her ass. But as she came she swung around, kissed me full on the lips, and stuck her tongue down my throat. As I French kissed her, she took my whole tongue in her mouth and sucked on it wantonly. She slowly stopped as her orgasm subsided, and she subconsciously grabbed my cock as she started to regain her composure. "My God Patrick, you're hard again," she said breathlessly. "You were so hot Mom. I can't help it. "I guess you want me to give you another blow job?" "Well you did say how much you enjoyed it." "Did you miss the part about how disturbing that was?" "I guess, but does that mean you won't suck my cock?" She just shook her head in disbelief, threw a hand towel on the bathroom tiles to kneel on, and took me in her mouth again. "Mom you are the best," I said as the pleasure returned to my cock. "But you have to shave that pussy of yours. I like a clean shaven woman." "I'll get right on it," she said sarcastically as she stopped going down on me for a minute. "Right after I wrench my soul out of the hands of the devil." She then returned to sucking me off, and I came in my mother's mouth for the second time that day. Later that night I lay in bed thinking about the days events. It was obvious that my mother was using me as a substitute for my dad, but that didn't bother me. In fact I was so twisted that I intended to use that fact for my own gratification. I was in luck. My sexual epiphany about my mother was at the exact point in time in which she was emotionally vulnerable. I didn't want to settle for a blow job any longer. No my intention was to fuck her. I just had to figure how to get mom to give it up. Now that I had seen that look of lust on my mother's beautiful face, I knew that I wanted to see that look again, and as I was fucking her. Little did I know that an opportunity would present itself in a few days. I didn't see my mom for the next few day. I had finals that I had to study for, and she had just started a project at work and needed to put in some overtime. We saw each other, but only for brief moments. Finally at the end of the week we sat down together for dinner. She was preoccupied, and at first I thought that she felt a bit awkward about Sunday, but she finally broached the subject that was on her mind. "Have you talked to your dad lately?" She asked not looking at me. "He calls, but I don't take his call." "Why not?" "Because I'm a little pissed at him, that's why. I see what you are going through." "I know, but he's your dad, and you should talk to him. Besides, I need you to do a favor for me. I want you to do a little detective work." "What do you mean." "I want you to get some information for me about your dad's new girlfriend." "What kind of information?" "Nothing much. You know: what her name is, how old she is, how did they meet, and are they living together." "What's in it for me?" I asked deviously. "What do you mean?" "Well that's a lot of information, that you will undoubtedly throw in his face at the first chance you get." "What is it you want?" "You." "What do you mean, me?" "You. I want see you dressed in that little outfit that you were wearing for dad, and I want to see in it in my bed." "That's not going to happen Patrick. I'm not having sex with you. This has gone way too far already." "That's my price. As soon as I ask him these questions he will tell me not to tell you, and that is exactly what you want me to do." "You won't do this for me?" "You're asking me to betray dad's confidence." "So that's it?" "Yes, I guess that's it." I should have felt like a little shit at that point in time, but I was obsessed, and all I wanted to do was to fuck her. I thought that somehow I could pressure her to do it. I got up and went up stairs to study. It just so happens that the next day when I returned from class, and mom was still at work, my father called. He had called several times before, but I never wanted to talk to him. That day I answered the phone. He was very contrite at first. Telling me how much he was sorry, but that he had met someone and fell in love with them. You know the same bullshit you always hear from guys that cheat on their wives. I started to pump him for information, and at first he was reticent, but after he asked me not to tell mom, he told me all about her. He wanted me to meet her and accept her, but I would have rather stuck needles in my eyes. After the call, I felt hollow. No matter how much he told me that he still loved me, I still felt disdain for him, and sympathy for my poor mother. It was then that I felt like a little shit. I had done to her what he had done to her, and for the same reason; to get laid. I was upstairs when my mom got home from work that night. She had called me to see what I wanted for take out, but I had told her that I had already made dinner. "You did?" She said amazed. "Don't get too excited. It's only spaghetti and meatballs." "Where did you get the meatballs?"