23 comments/ 171302 views/ 80 favorites Fit Mom Ch. 01 By: mooboo2u The following is a true story about an experience I went through with my mother a few years ago. I'm a very different person now than who I used to be, and not entirely in a good way. Since this is a sex story site, I'm going to make this "hot" so to speak, since I enjoy stories about incest like this one. But I think I read these type of stories more for the therapy than for the thrill. I'm hoping that writing this out, in every detail, will help me deal better with the past. Thank you for reading. --- I was staying at home for the summer after my sophomore year of college. That weekend, my mom had discovered a Facebook chat I had with a friend...somehow it was open on my phone and it came up when it was unlocked. First, I want to say that I'm not some kind of sociopathic frat idiot that screws everything that moves. But, I did get a little too drunk last night, and I participated in a threesome with two girls. Little did I know (or remember), that one of the girl's roommates took pictures of the whole affair, and somehow my psudeo-friend from college was now in possession of them. In addition, it was during a "break" period with my longtime girlfriend. While I technically didn't do anything "wrong" in a relationship sense, her finding out about my dalliance would do a lot of damage to our now on-again relationship. The chat consisted of a lot of dirty talk, not because I was a masochist who got off on talking about women like they are carnal animals, but because I wanted to stay on the guy's good side. If we stayed "friends" then there was a chance he wouldn't upload the pictures to the internet, and my bad judgement would disappear. And so, the chat was filled with all kinds of comparisons of tits, talk about licking pussy, which girl was better, etc. The point being, it wasn't "me." If I had to describe me, I would say I was a good guy. My whole teenage (and now college) life had centered around how I looked, but I always obtained stellar grades and was aspiring to be a doctor one day. In most families, good grades and aspirations would be rewarded. But not by my mother, and my dad was indifferent. If you asked me if I loved my mom, I would say 'yes", but I was never really sure what that meant. I never thought much of who, or what she was, to be honest. I guess I never thought she was much more than a housewife. And she was a poor housewife at that. It seemed like she really took pleasure in annoying my father or acting selfishly when he needed something for her. In a lot of ways, she was more immature than me. I mean, she was the woman who raised me, but I'd always had a real relationship with my dad. I was grateful for her feeding me and doing my laundry. Was that love? It made me happy when I was a kid when she'd put a band-aid on my scraped knee. Was that love? Did I like the woman? I don't think I did, no. She was too self-centered and in some kind of weird denial about her age. It was hard for me to put my finger on, even as I grew older. My mom always wanted me to be popular, first and foremost. She was one of those women who had "aged well" but didn't "age wise." She looked great for her age, worked out like it was a drug, but was way too involved with me and my younger sister's social lives. She read every celebrity magazine and talked about the gossip columns like most people talked about their friend circle. She obsessed over what happened to people she went to highschool with and hadn't seen in person for over thirty years (but she actively stalked on Facebook), and she had this weird penchant for being vulgar about sex. How vulgar? She made jokes about how long I lasted when I lost my virginity. How great my ass looked. Whether my sister would have an orgasm based on looks of the boy she was dating. To deal with my mom was to deal with an immature sibling that happened to have given birth to you. Where most kids felt oppressed because they couldn't do drugs and fuck everything that moved, I was oppressed because I avoided those stereotypes and instead wanted to better myself. She never helped in that arena, and I always held it against her. Then this stupid phone chat happened, and it turned a bad situation to worse. Much worse. It was a quiet afternoon, very sunny, and she had just returned from a run. She had a light sweat and was wearing just a sports bra and some tight running shorts. My mom is the ultimate suburban stereotype of a trophy wife: great body, big bluish green eyes, and shoulder length brunette hair. "I saw the chat you had on your phone with that Chad boy." I was standing by the cupboard, looking for a sports drink, having just returned from the gym myself (our family is very sports/fitness oriented, thanks to her). I just froze and stayed quiet, waiting for her to get angry. "Seems you're having some fun at college." I just stayed quiet and sipped my drink. I felt very embarrassed. I knew her interest wouldn't stop anytime soon. "It's ok, hun, I was actually really happy. I mean, it's important to be get that stuff out of your system when you're young. Lord knows I wish I had done even more than I did. And I can see why they look at you like that. Not, like, you know, I myself see that, but I can see how they would." I kept my head down and licked my lips. I hadn't turned to face her yet. "Uhm, thanks." I said. She laughed a bit, "Hey, turn around," she said, rubbing her hand on my shoulder a bit. "Don't be ashamed." It wasn't everyday that your mom suddenly knew the vulgar details of your sex life. I turned and she put her arm on my shoulder. "I know how this must be awkward for you. But you know, I had a lot of fun in college myself. A lot of fun, like what you're having. If you ever want to talk about it we can." I wasn't sure what she meant by that. I definitely didn't want to find out more about how slutty my mother was in college. "OK, cool." She sort of rubbed the back of my head for awhile and looked me in the eye. As I've said, my mother was, by the admission of every man in the world except me, really attractive. Her breasts had only grown fuller and nicer since the photos I had seen of when she was smaller-chested in high school. I can remember my dad advising me to marry a girl with smallish tits, since more often than not, they filled out over time. According to him, young girls with big tits turned into old women with "sandbags." My dad wasn't exactly politically correct either, but at least he wasn't mean-spirited. In this awkward moment, I glanced down, and thought of his advice. For the first time, I realized where it came from. "You told Chad you're an abs and boobs guy, huh?" I looked away, "Jeez." Did she really read the whole thing? I expected her to joke around with me, but there wasn't any humor in the air. She just kept stroking my head and looking at me. There was a period of silence, and I looked to her a few times. She just kept staring, and I got a little uncomfortable. "Hey, uhm, if I ask you to do something for me, don't think it's weird? Ok? And you can't say no, because you're my son." The line "Because you're my son" has to be the most oppressive sentence in existence. sort of crossed my brow, "What?" She stood in front of me, took both my hands, and placed them on her exposed abs. "Just kind of feel mine, and tell me if they feel like those girls in the pictures." I took my hands away, "No, why?" She shushed me, "Ssshhh, just do me this favor ok? It would mean a lot to me. It's not like I can ask just anybody. Come on, it's not a big deal." "No! It's messed up..." She took both my cheeks in her hand. I towered over her by a good 4 inches, but I felt intimidated. "Just feel them for a minute, it won't kill you. Now come on..." She took my hands again and placed them on her midriff. I looked up and took a deep breath. Somehow I felt I had to proceed to escape any punishment, so I looked at her. "What do you want me to do?" She put her hands on my shoulders. "Just squeeze, tell me if I feel as tight as they felt." To be clear, before this moment, I never had a sexual feeling for my mother. I'd be lying, as all men do, if I told you I never looked at her body in a sexual way. Growing up as a kid, with my hormones firing on all cylinders, I had a few glances at her body that probably weren't pure. But I never, ever thought about her in a sexual way for more than a passing moment. But then I looked down, and I touched her moist abs, and I dug my hands into her. She walked into me and pressed me into the counter. I could feel her against my cock. It made me uncomfortable, but she didn't seem to read my reaction, or perhaps didn't care. Her grin was wide and white. "Go ahead, feel into me." I wasn't sure how to give her what she wanted. I sort of pushed my palms into her skin and massaged her. "Are they nice? Like those girls?" I nodded, "Sure." She laughed a little and put her hands on my cheeks, "OK, you're just going to lie to me, so I'm gonna find out the truth." The position we were in was weirdly intimate. Her crotch was up against mine, my hands were feeling her body, and her toned arms were outstretched and touching my face, her fingers clinched behind my head. She closed her eyes and smiled. "That feels kinda good." I kept it up, and I had a moment of weakness. I looked at her neck and tan arms and I had some kind of sexual flashback. I always liked to start into a girl by putting my face in between her neck and shoulder, kissing, nuzzling, I don't know. My mom had great arms. Little dots of freckles, perfect skin tone, a little muscle showing... "Ah! There. I got it." She backed away, my fingers trailed off her skin. She looked down, as did I. I was half erect, and she had felt it. I rolled my eyes, "Jesus mom, come on." She laughed. "I guess I still got it, huh? Thanks honey." I tried to place my hands in front of my erection, but it was too prominent. "Damn, that's got to be a tough monkey to manage, huh?" She put her hand on her hip and kept staring at it. "Why don't you show it to your old mom?" I shook my head, "Mom, I gotta go." I tried to walk away but she put her hand on my shoulder, "No, don't you leave yet. I'm not done with you." I wasn't sure if she would threaten to tell my dad about the chat and the pics, or ground me, or any of a bevy of other things. "I've seen it a million times, what's one more gonna hurt? I wanna see how you've grown. It looked big in the pictures." "Mom, no. This isn't funny." A normal mother would have realized she was making her son uncomfortable, but my mom wasn't nearly that empathetic. "Fine, I don't think I even need your help to see how big it is." If some imaginary line hadn't been crossed already, she took care of that by removing her sports bra. She was beaming with confidence as her tits fell free. I'd never been confronted with her breasts like that before, and I wasn't sure how to deal with it psychologically. It would have been easy to deal with if they were typical old, saggy mom boobs. But they weren't, they were legitimately some of the nicest I'd ever seen in person. The way the sunlight was shining on her very softly from the window behind me and she looked...good. I tried to look away, I really did. The whole situation was so gross and strange, I didn't want anything to do with it, but my body was responding. "Come on, have a look. I work hard to look like this." My eyes followed her hand to her nipple, which she was caressing. She started slowly jostling her right breast while she stared at my cock. I couldn't help myself. My mind kind of glazed over, and I stared. I had no idea she could move her hands over her body so seductively. "Yea, there we go, there, he's saying hello." I looked down and I was almost fully erect. I put my hand over my area. She stepped forward and brushed my arms aside. Her tits were nearly touching my chest and I have to admit, I was a little mesmerized. My cock kept getting harder. "Closer, closer, closer, aaandd..." The head of my cock pushed against my gym shorts and touched her bare midriff. She let out this cooing, sexy sound, like she just drank a cold glass of water. "Aaaahhh, there it is..." Her white teeth bore a big grin as her eyes closed to enjoy her victory. I couldn't help but notice, in my heightened state, how pretty she looked. She backed up suddenly, and my cock let me know it was disappointed. "There, that settles it, I'm still hot. So much for what that bitch Sharlene thinks." She started to put her bra back on as she left the room, as if the little sex show I'd just received was just a nuisance. I didn't know who Sharlene was, but she must have pissed my mother off something awful. I went and sat at the kitchen table, trying to sort out what had just happened. I was mad at her for being so aggressive, and for using me the way she did. But I felt a lot of guilt for not exiting the situation and for letting my body respond. I sort of covered my face in my hands. I wanted to wipe away the feeling of being attracted to her, but it was strange. It was like I'd found a way to have strong emotions towards my mother for the first time, and I didn't know if I wanted to let that go. Then the second wave of "aw, fuck, gross" came. She was my mom! There's thing you just don't do in life, and one of them is get a boner over your mother. Then again, are you supposed to sexually objectify yourself for your own son? She's the one who did what she did, who started "this." And thing that grinded on me the most was that I was tearing myself up about it, and she was probably on to her next daily chore without so much as a thought. I went upstairs to my room to get cleaned up. I had too much shit to do to bother worrying about my half-crazy mother that day. -- Over the next week, my mind played games with me. I tried to avoid her as much as I could, but it was impossible to avoid her completely. The worst was when she would wear something revealing. One night, over a family dinner, she had on a dress with a scooped-out top that showed off her cleavage. What really drove me nuts was that her breasts looked better in person than they did clothed. Most girls, in a bra or bikini, look more seductive clothed then nude. It's like some kind of universal rule, or something. My mom, though...her tits were just a knockout. One hint at how they were shaped sent me over the edge. That night, with her wearing that dress over dinner, I really had a problem. I couldn't mentally control myself from catching glimpses of her breasts. Now that I knew how they looked, I kept trying to mentally visualize them as they heaved on her chest in the dress. I couldn't stop myself. I was so horny over dinner that I about lost my mind. The worst part? She caught me. I looked up from one so-called stolen glimpse to find her looking at me, smiling slightly. My dad was talking, and she looked back his way, but in that moment I knew she saw me gawking at her. I didn't know how it made her feel. She had shown no remorse, or guilt, or really anything at all in response to the little incident we had in the kitchen. --- Something like two weeks after the incident, I was on my way out of the shower, which had suddenly started spouting cold water near the end, leaving me feeling a little frazzled. I wrapped my bottom half in a towel and left the bathroom. I walked back to my room to find my mother in my bed, a towel wrapped around her head, laying under the comforter. "Hey stranger!" she said, a big smile on her face. "Mom, what the fuck!" She shook her finger at me, "Hey! Language, mister. Watch it." Really mom? You're tell me not to be vulgar? "Did you get in the shower while I was in there? You took all the hot water." She gasped, "Oh goodness, then you must be freezing, sitting there, dripping cold water and all. You should hop in here with me." She sort of giggled girlishly. "Mom, you gotta quit doing this, this is sick." Her face sort of contorted. "Oh, ok then. I guess you're right. Here, go ahead and change..." She pulled down the comforter so that her heaving breasts sat just above the comforter, which she pulled tight against her body. She laid her arms back behind her head. They looked toned and tan. "I'll just give you something to enjoy while you do." I stared. I knew I shouldn't have, but I looked at her like a caveman. I would be lying if I had much else on my idle mind for the last two weeks besides how great her rack had looked that day. And there it was again, open bare and in my bed. "You can come closer honey. I just know you liked these, and I like having you look." "No, mom." I walked over to my dresser, turning away from her. I went to my dresser, hoping to find some boxers so I could change in the other room. The drawer was empty. I looked to the shelves where my jeans, pants, and shirts sat in the closet. Empty as well. I looked to the ground. "Mom, this has got to stop." She giggled that girlish giggle again. "Stop what? Come over here and talk to me." I sighed. "I'm going downstairs to the hamper." I started walking out of the room. "You know, I finally figured out how to send that chat with Chad to my email." I slowed down and then stopped. "It's up to you if you want me to tell your dad. Or somebody else. It really is up to you." I knew full well my dad wouldn't care. She was threatening to tell my girlfriend, or someone else I knew with a big mouth. Facebook stalking had given her the lowdown on how to share my secrets. "I promise it won't be a big deal. Come over here." I turned, and feeling I had no choice, walked and stood above her on the bed. I kept my gaze straight ahead, looking above and away from her. "I want to get to know more about you." I just waited and sighed. Finally I asked, "Like what?" Out of the corner of my eye, I could see her grinning. "How often do you masturbate?" I gulped. More of this? "Once a day." "Liar! Seriously?" I nodded, "Yea, most days." She sat up a bit, "Did you do it in the shower?" "Uh, no." "Were you going to come in here and do it?" I shrugged, "Maybe." She giggled that girlish giggle. "You're so bad," she said in a sultry voice. "Look at me please, don't be mean." I looked at her, right in the eyes. "No, silly, look at what you want to see." She was wrong, because I didn't mind taking in her face and smile, as sick as it made me feel. I don't know why I didn't just walk away. Maybe I felt for her need to feel wanted. Maybe I really was a little too attracted to her already. But I looked down, and I felt the endorphin rush any man feels when he sees a perfect pair of tits. "What about when you look at these? Do you want to masturbate?" I could feel my eyes sink. They were so luscious. And she was being so utterly slutty. "Uh huh," was all my murky mind could say. She pulled in a sharp sigh, "That's hot. I like that." She licked her lips, "Listen, women really, really like to feel wanted. And...whatever this is, I love it. I fucking love it," she said, whimpering. She almost never cursed, "So I want you to touch yourself while you look at me." "Mom..." "I know, I know. But if we don't go too far, nobody gets hurt. It's just fun! I know it's bad, and all that crap, but you're a grown man. And I'm going to be disgusting looking in about, oh hell, what, a year? Two years? However long I have left, I wanna feel this way. I don't give a fuck anymore what I'm supposed to do, or you're supposed to do. Come on, you know you like this." I hesitated. I looked down at my feet and really tried to find an excuse to put a stop to this that wouldn't enrage her. Fit Mom Ch. 01 "Come on! Just once, puhleeese. You do it every day, just show me. And get hot over me." I felt a little nauseous, but I felt like I didn't have a choice. I removed the towel very methodically, like I was going to be examined by a doctor. It dropped to the floor, and I checked her reaction. A glow kind of came over her face, and she her lips pinched together. "You're rock hard. I did that to you?" I cleared my throat. I wasn't going to admit it to myself, much less her. "You're so slender but built....you look better than you did in that picture. I can't believe a guy like you is attracted to me. That's a good size, really thick. Bigger than your dad." Ugh, my dad. I almost forgot about him. "This isn't cheating, you know?" she said, "To me anyways. You're half your dad, so maybe it's half cheating." She laughed, "Am I rambling? This isn't sexy." I disagreed with her in my mind, but I was getting horny just thinking about the situation. Was something wrong with me? All of a sudden I was seeing her face, that wide smile, her deep set eyes, in a sexual way. There wasn't any way around it, my mother was a gorgeous woman. And the fact she was my mother, and I had never seen this way before, was dirty....and making me lose control. "Go ahead. Do it." I reached down to my cock, and it felt like it was covered with icy hot. I started touching myself while I looked down on her. Her reaction was pure lust. Her eyes sank, and she started to breathe heavily. Of course, her chest moved in time with her breathing, setting me off even further. As I got closer to orgasm, the freckles that lined her smooth skin looked downright lickable to me. I started falling in love with her dimples, her smell. I wanted to reach my hands out and and touch her. "Can you...." I stammered, "Bring the blanket down." She did as I asked, and I saw her abs again. It reminded me of our first encounter, and I wanted to remember what her skin felt like. I wanted to kiss her mouth. It was taking a lot for me not to climb on top of her. "Where are you going to cum?" she asked, breathlessly. She started gyrating her hips as if she was fantasizing about humping into me. It was about the sexiest thing I'd ever seen. "I dunno." She licked her lips as she heaved, "Do it wherever you want. I don't care." My first thought, and I felt a fleeting shame from thinking it, was that I wanted to blow it in her pussy. I wanted to put it inside her, just to cum and to make her regret all the teasing. I was trying to think of how I could put it in her mouth, when I felt it flowing up from my nuts. I closed my eyes and started spraying my cum all over her chest. She let out a cooing sound, and I watched it fly in ropes across her silky skin. She flashed a huge, thrilled smile for a second, before clenching her brow and moaning. It was like I was living a porno clip. At that fleeting moment, I felt she was hotter than any porn star I'd ever seen. "Mmmmm, you conquered me big boy. I'm yours." She laid her arms back behind her head and breathed softly. Most of the time, after I cum, I want to do just about anything but look at the girl I was with. With her, I just stared. How had I gone through my teenage years and not known someone this sexy was living under the same roof as me? "So..." she said, sitting up on her knees in the bed, "Do you feel like maybe you opened your mind a little today?" She smiled, and rustled my hair with her hand. As she moved, her breasts jostled a bit. My cock was maybe an inch or two away from her tummy, again. "Listen, you're young so maybe you don't know but...guys should make the first move. This is a little different, because of the situation, but it helps the girl to feel special. I want that so....it's your turn, ok?" I nodded while she rubbed my shoulder, "OK, mom." She smiled, "I'm gonna go wash this off. This was fun. I had fun." With that, she stood up, picked up her panties, and then brushed her nude body against my own as she walked away. Her smooth ass moved in rhythm as she walked out the door of my bedroom. Without thinking, I laid down where she was, and started masturbating again. I was surrounded by her scent, a smell I'd known since I was a kid, which was somehow far more potent. I was like an animal, as if I had no choice but to cum again while I envisioned her in my mind. I finished in barely a minute, cumming all over myself. I didn't notice her peering back into the room from the doorway, watching me frantically rub one out. I was still breathing hard as looked to her. "Twice in that short amount of time? Must be nice to be young. We gotta work on your endurance, buddy." She winked, and left. I didn't even know how I could control myself in the future. --- When my head cleared, I resolved to not take things any further. I really, truly did. I don't think I need to summarize the reasons why fooling around with your own mother is a bad idea. Much less how hard it was to reconcile the feelings I'd developed for her. I don't think it was compassion, or love, but the lust was really messing with me. I could barely pass by a family portrait without feeling intense guilt. I also couldn't pass by her bedroom and smell her perfume without all the blood in my body rushing to my crotch. I avoided her for the most part for a solid three days. Then, with my sister away on a field trip, my father had to travel to stay with my grandmother to help her along after an appendectomy. This meant at least four nights, from wake to sleep, alone in the house with my mother. I might have resisted temptation had it not been for the stress that was building up that particular week. My final grades came out, and I just wasn't succeeding at college like I had hoped. It's been years since then, I realize now how silly it was to be worried, but at the time my academic career meant everything for me. To top it off, I had a date with my girlfriend that didn't go well. For whatever reason, I just couldn't perform. My dick stayed limp no matter what we did together. I felt so embarrassed, and it didn't help that it lead to a huge fight. She pretended it was over some friend of mine being a jerk, but I knew it was because I had let her down. It culminated on a quiet night. I think it was a Wednesday. I was upstairs in my room, my hands behind my head, contemplating something. Beyond the two factors I mentioned, I was a bundle of anxiety and emotions. Knowing my mother was downstairs, waiting for me to maul her, was probably a driving factor. The ultimate irony was that one more session of spending time with her naked body was a surefire way to calm me. I wanted that feeling again. I decided, foolishly, to go downstairs and get a look at her. If I still felt the same way when we were face to face, then I might take her up on her offer to "play around." At the bottom of the stairs, I saw her, and I already knew what I wanted. I had given myself an excuse to get high on my drug of choice. My last shred of dignity was telling me to run back up the stairs. Instead, I walked towards her as she sat quietly facing away from me, reading a book on the sofa. I sat down on the couch across from her, and watched her read. She wanted me to make the first move...but I was so nervous. I did what I always did when I wanted something: I visualized it, and then went for it. I walked over and hovered above her. She said something along the lines of a greeting, but I was too fixated on forcing myself to move forward. I stared at the buttons of her blouse for a moment, and then sat down beside her. She just sat there breathing. I put my hand on the back of her neck and massaged it while I reached out and undid the first button. She sighed and closed her eyes. "This is such a good book...you'll have to make me tear myself away from it." I finished unbuttoning her blouse and plunged my hand into her bra. She put the book in her opposite hand and kept pretending to read, daring me to warm her over to my advances. I drew the strap over her shoulder and took out her tit. Her nipple was hard, and I let go of any restraint. I placed her breast in my mouth and started to slide the nipple over my tongue. When she still didn't respond, I sucked into it and bit. I heard her moan. "Gosh, it's been a long time since you did that." She put the book down and grabbed the back of my head as I continued to maul at her chest with my mouth. I started ot kiss my way up her neck, until I lingered by her lips. I tried to kiss her, but she turned at the last moment. "No kissing. That's too much..." I didn't ask any questions. I continued to disrobe her, removing her blouse and leaving her bra undone, hanging by her breast. I gently nudged it away with my index finger and kissed all along her neck, shoulders, and abs. I reached up and grabbed her breasts again as I kissed near the top of her jeans. My eyes met my forehead as I looked up to see her reaction. She was smiling widely and squirming to my touch. "You lived there for a few months, I bet you miss it." God, what she was saying was gross. But I was a nineteen year old man being offered unlimited access to a nude woman who was in better shape than most girls my age. You could say I wasn't thinking very hard about context. I undid the button of her jeans and violently ripped them off. I hated the part of sex when you awkwardly disrobed, so I used my neanderthal strength to rip right past it. I stood up and let my shorts and boxers fall to the floor, while tucking an elbow under my shirt and tearing it over my head. I was nude, standing over her. She had on black lace panties. Unlike before, she wasn't smiling with glee. Instead she had a mix of fear and lust in her eyes. I don't think she expected me to take things past heavy middle-school petting so quickly. I lunged over and covered her with my body. I kissed into her neck as she wrapped her arms around me, clutching to me. I felt the heat rise up from her panties and coat my expanding cock. I dry humped into her, and hovered my lips next to hers. She struggled to talk. "Let's fool around a bit, slow it down, maybe?" I leaned in to kiss her, but she didn't return it. My lips barely grazed her before she moved her head back and to the side. Her face became dismissive and distant as I kept grinding into her crotch. I was sick of her crazy head games. Her pussy was hot, so I knew what she wanted. I reached down and tore the panties right off of her. She gasped. I was in control now. I gripped my cock and started rubbing it up and down her slit. The juices and heat felt so perfect. I was aching for it. "Just slide it up and down, but let's not go all the way. Ok? Just slide." I don't even know if I comprehended what she was saying. I put it in. Her hands dug into my back and her eyes widened as she felt my member slide into her fully. Rapidly she started to crumple up beneath me. Instead of responding with moans and glee like the pornstar I had watched in my bedroom days before, she sort of tilted her head to the side with her eyes closed. As I started humping into her, she put her arms over her chest, as if to cover her nude breasts in shame. I thought i was doing something wrong. I felt like I was disappointing her. I decided to increase my pace and started slapping my balls against her as I picked up momentum. She stayed in that frazzled state, her mouth clenched, hiding herself. She let out a light gasp as I continued, but I knew she wasn't into it. I slowed down, and withdrew. I calmly jacked myself off until I finished, spraying my cum all over her shaved pussy. I paused for a moment and looked her over. She was practically trembling in fear, her eyes closed. I didn't know what else to do, so I got up and left. I changed into new clothes in my room and decided to pretend to go to sleep. After obsessing over the sheer pleasure I'd taken from mauling her and then masturbating again, the guilt of my memories with her as a kid and her reaction to my advances took me over. Eventually, I fell asleep to avoid it. --- The next few of days were surreal. It was like my interactions with my mother returned to normal, as though she'd never seen the photos and initiated our little game. It got to the point that I wondered if it had happened at all, if I'd done the things I did. I wanted to say I was sorry or to comfort her, but she just glossed over it as if it never happened. That's how our family operated: gloss over everything until we became powder kegs, ready to explode. Again I came out of the shower and entered my room to see her standing there, wearing a red sweater and khakis. She had a serious look on her face. "Your dad will be gone until late tonight, so I thought we should talk. About...what happened." "Do you want me to get dressed?" She shook her head, "No, you don't have to." I started before she could, "Listen, mom, I didn't mean to make you feel bad. I didn't know what to do." She put her hands up, "It wasn't you. I guess...people's emotions are sort of layered. And I didn't see you as a real man until right before we did what we did. And I had a lot of conflicted emotions, because you're my baby. And to realize I was making my baby act that way made me panic, and I got scared. But it wasn't you. You didn't do anything wrong." I felt relieved. "Are you, like, worried about getting pregnant and stuff?" She sort of laughed, "Women my age don't get pregnant easily. Not without a lot of help. So no, that's OK." We sat quiet for a second. I wasn't sure what to do. "So, to communicate, what I love is turning you on. I just can't believe someone like you would be attracted to me, and I know my time is short, so I want that feeling again. And I wasn't sure about the whole pleasure part, but after thinking about what's hanging between your legs the last few days, I think I' more than ready for it. I've been planning this since you walked away from the couch...I just want this to not be a fantasy anymore." I was getting tired of the conflicting feelings. I reacted to her words with lust, and just buried the dread and guilt. "So I made something for you," she said with the typical mom candor, as if she'd just made me a sandwich, "And I think you're going to like it." She came and took me by my shoulders. She guided me to the chest that sat on the front of my bed. "Have a seat." I sat down. She motioned for my hand to move from the towel, and I obeyed. I sat up and threw it aside. She looked at my member, "Phew, I sure am glad I got this family to work out. Dang kid, you can make a woman swoon." A few paces away from me, she took her sweater off and removed her khakis. Underneath, she was wearing a tight-fitting bra with a garter belt and stockings. "This is your dad's anniversary outfit. Last worn about seven years ago. Still fits though." She ran her hands up and down her abs, "Do you like it?" "Yea," I said through the forming haze, "A lot." She smiled, "And, check this out..." The intensity of the situation had me ignore the huge tower of stuff veiled by a bedsheet standing in my huge, suburban bedroom. My mom took away the sheet to reveal a huge stereo and lighting rig with speakers. I stared at her perfect ass as she did it, like a hungry beast. "...is the portable music and light machine we were supposed to use to listen to Marvin Gaye and spice up our sex life. It's old, but it's got a headphone port for my iPod. And I made a mix of music you like." She turned on the iPod, and looked to me. "Close your eyes. Setting things up isn't sexy." I obeyed, again. She rustled around and I heard her turn off the lights. "I want you to cum twice, as fast as you can. We have to work on your endurance. And when we get going, even if you finish, don't stop. Just wait until you're hard again. Then keep going." A song cued up that I recognized as a hard, loud dubstep track. Even the quiet part of the song was so loud it was almost deafening. I felt her drape her hands over my shoulders. She whispered in my ear. "Open wide. And you can touch all you want." She backed up and a strip tease began. I could tell she memorized every movement to coincide with the song. She swayed and dragged her back along my torso like a professional. She gyrated her hips into my groin and I licked her her sternum as she pressed her tits into my face. Eventually, just as the break in the song came, she got up and ripped off her bra, turning to me as the bass hit. The house rattled as she swung her long hair in circles, then humped into the air in a bouncing motion to make her perfect breasts bounce. Red lights faded into blue into green as a strobe kept the pace of the bass line. I had never seen anything so erotic in my life. The music was so loud it was practically inside my head. I was masturbating furiously. She came back over and straddled me, and I sucked on her nippples. She put her hand behind my head and guided me. When I felt my own saliva on my lips, I moved to another part of her skin, to make sure I licked every part of her chest. I dug my thumb into her pelvis and felt her smooth skin. She pulled away her chest and I came. It erupted up into the air, almost hitting her in her chin. She didn't miss a beat and plowed her hot pussy into my cock. Her eyes were closed and she was moaning. She leaned into me. "One down, one to go." The music roared back up and she stood above me. Now she teased my cock with her ass, sliding it up and down the pole. I grabbed both of her breasts and sucked on her neck. I could smell her scent as her hair fell around my face. My heart was beating out of my chest. We kept this up until I was once again rock hard. I never recovered so fast from cumming in my life. She turned around and put a hand behind my neck. She rode me like she was bucking a bronco while she writhed in orgasm. I didn't know if it was real or fake, but having my cock slide over the edge of her crotch was sending me into convulsions. When she stood to prepare some other erotic dance sequence, I blew my load. It flew all over her tan legs, and dripped down her stockings. "Good, good." I thought I heard her say over the music. She rubbed my hair as I leaned forward, breathing heavily as I recovered. I knew what was next, and even with all my desire nearly drained from me, I stood up and put my hands on her hips. I leaned into kiss her, but she turned away. Instead, she tuggged me by my flacid cock and turned towards the bed. She laid down and undid the buttons on the front of her belt. Just as I made my way toward her, the song faded out and a hard-hitting rap song, one of those club-loving, pussy-hitting types of pure unadulterated carnal brooding that I listened to in my car. "Good timing," I saw her mouth to me. I licked up and down her body as I crawled over top of her. Her pussy was so wet, it took my cock at barely half staff. I won't describe every lurid detail, but if you can carelessly fuck a woman that looked like my mother in dark room, lit by a furious stereo and strobing lights, I recommend you do it. The music took all the romance and compassion from the sex. It was just hard fucking. Taking care of my cock the first two rounds let me last far longer the third time. Almost an hour passed as my balls slapped against her pussy. It was so tight, and so much better than I'd remembered it from our first encounter. At points I closed my eyes and leaned into it, losing myself. After that first session, she danced on top of me, resting her knees by my sides. She put her tits in my face, then moved to hump against me. She made a point to dangle her lips near mine as she stared into my eyes. A few times they brushed up against mine, and I moved to kiss her, but she relented. Fit Mom Ch. 01 The second time I came, I had her leg braced against my bicep, with her foot high in the air. They were small, rapid strokes. I was barely moving inside her, but our pulsations were sending her over the moon. She was practically screaming in pleasure. I knew I had to try to cum with her, so I had to find something mentally to send myself over the edge. My mind landed in the strangest, most erotic place. It occurred to me that I would probably never bed a woman like her again. Even if we somehow kept our taboo tryst going, she would age and lose the sexual power she held over me. Looking at her breasts, I didn't know in my mind, but in my soul and my gut, that I wanted my child to feed off them before it was too late. My body was willing my cock to get her pregnant, to fuse with her. It was some kind of evolutionary caveman reaction, and it sent electricity through my spine. I put my head into her shoulder and she held me, comforting me, as I picked up my pace. I felt so happy, so relieved when I came. The window of time was shutting on my chance to impregnate her, I can remember feeling yet not thinking, and I had done what I needed to do. We laid there, exhausted, for some time. At some point she must have clicked a remote to turn off the stereo and lights. I laid behind her, kissing her back. "I haven't cum that hard in my life. I haven't cum at all...in years..." she said between deep breaths. The shards of sunlight that penetrated the curtains showed little beads of sweat on her back. I remember feeling like it was the most incredible sight in the world, like pure erotica. I started to worry that this was moving beyond lust, and I turned my eyes away. Some days, I wish I hadn't. I wish I had continued to stare into the abyss. We eventually wound up under the covers. She checked the time. "We still have at least two hours," she said. There was a quiet moment. I ran my fingers up and down her arm, then tried to hold her hand beneath the sheets. She instead turned towards me. "Your endurance is so, so good after you cum twice. You have to keep that up. Making a woman feel that way is important when you want to get ahead in life." Somehow her instructive words sucked my growing romantic notions out of the room. I just smiled. "I liked that." She smiled, "I liked it too. You're so good at this." Again, she rustled my hair, laughing a little. I helped her load the stereo back into the garage. On the way down the stairs, she remarked that my cum was stuck all over her stomach and running down her stockings, and I genuinely laughed. Moments later, I felt terrible for laughing. A couple hours later, as I laid in bed basking in my after-sex shower, she greeted my dad at the door in the same red sweater she had worn in my bedroom. Beneath it, she was wearing mismatched bras and panties she purchased from Target. I knew this, because I had secretly watched her dress. Just for the chance ot look at her nude, one more time. --- The next month or two was a blur. We never had the same carnal explosion as we did that first day, but she seemed to love sneaking around. She was completely in the driver's seat, as I was aware how incapable I was of keeping things a secret or knowing when she wanted me. I didn't care. I just wanted to keep fucking her until the thrill was gone. There was the time in the downstairs laundry room, when my dad was above us, watching TV as he was completely betrayed just a few feet away. She dropped her pants, we kept our shirts on, and I fed her my cock through the fly of my jeans. A load in her pussy, without a thought given. There was the time we were both watching a talk show, late at night, and I sat behind her, massaging her breasts beneath her nightgown. I tried to kiss her then, and again I was rejected. She sat on my knees and held onto the armrest of the couch as we mated. I came again, and cleaned up with a dirty sock. She nearly fell asleep, and I watched the light from the TV flicker across her cheeks. The best, or maybe the second best, time was at a family gathering. Some kid's graduation party from summer school, a cousin of mine I think, or maybe a family friend. I remember it was a huge, rich-person's house, with three stories. She guided me up to the top of the house and let me put it in from behind as she faced a window that overlooked the party. As I slowly fucked her, she started to talk in frantic half-whispers. "If any of them looked up and saw us, my life would be over," she moaned a bit, "Just...over." I could audibly hear the squish of my cock pushing into her pussy. I was fondling her beneath her sundress. "And I love it." I came in her again, like countless times I didn't mention over that month. She laid her head against the window, leaving a residue as she breathed into it, recovering. --- Sometimes fairy tales can become nightmares, and it happens on a dime. It was the week before I was to return to school. I first realized it when I was in the kitchen, and I noticed she wasn't wearing her usual sports bra after her workout. "Going with the shirt now? Getting cold at the gym?" She sort of half-smiled at me, then lifted her shirt to expose a tiny, protruding belly. "Oh wow, did you gain weight somehow?" She let her shirt down, and sort of eyed me. That's when it hit me. "You....what?" She laughed, "I'm kind of proud of myself," she lifted her shirt, showing me my growing child, "It's showing way, way sooner than when I had you or Stef. That means my abs are super tight." My skin was white and I must have looked like I'd seen a ghost, "Jesus, mom, what the hell?" She put her fingers to my lips, "Sssshh, don't be so dramatic. What did you think was going to happen? This is your responsibility as much as it is mine." I became so angry, the air seemed to swell from my nose into my brain, "Bullshit! You did this. And you said you couldn't get pregnant..." She laughed. It was like she was another person, "Oh boo hoo. Of course it's possible! These things happen. This is how you happened! I mean, literally, this is how you came into the world. And that was nineteen years ago! I'm still fertile, I'm so proud of myself. " It was horrifying. I bolted upstairs to my room and she followed behind me, calling my name. When I slammed the door, she just opened it, violating my space. Which, she was an expert at doing, as you've surely seen. "Steven, come on! Why are you so bananas? It's my body, and I made a choice." I felt like I was having a panic attack. She was making this into a feminist issue? Carrying her son's child? "Get rid of it. Jesus, mom, get an abortion, please." She gawked, "I think that's up to me, thank you. In fact, since the 'morning after' was at the beginning of the summer, I damn well know it is. It's too late to abort, honey. But if we play this the right way," She put her hand on my shoulder. I felt numb, growing chills. "Then you'll be fine. I'll say it was your dads. He leaned over me and grunted at least twice this summer, we're gonna be fine!" I stood up and gave her a look of shock, "How could you do that to dad?" Once again, she gawked, "Says the man who's been fucking his wife." I sighed. The consequences were coming over me like a tidal wave. I really, really wanted to talk to my dad. In that moment she had the audacity to start taking off her clothes. "What the hell are you doing?" She smiled, "What do you think I'm doing? We've got at least an hour before he's home, now buck up. I need this." She tried to take my shirt up over my head, but I flailed my arms. "Fuck no! We are not doing this...not with that inside you." She looked at me with sadness. To her, it was apparently not "that." It was "he" or "she" already. Then, she decided to play her ace in the hole. She walked up, put her hands softly on my cheeks, and kissed me. We kissed, soft like a couple in love, for a solid minute. It hit me in some emotional space within my confused heart, and she knew it. I had wanted this...the intimacy. She had avoided it at every turn, for reasons more mature than I could comprehend at the time. I kept having this nagging feeling as I held her, that she was the mother of my child. I had to protect her, and he. Or she. It was a basal emotion...I was barely conscious of it. "Come on. Maybe we can get rid of it, if that's what you want. But I know that I would rather have your baby than your father's. It feels even more right than it did when I had you." She kissed me, and like the weak sucker I'd been before, I bought into the bullshit. The rustle and tustle was as hot as it ever was. I still felt enamored with the sheer shape of her body. I put my hand on her cheek as she lowered herself onto me. I had a tinge of pride, knowing I could be a father. Then, I realized...I was a father...maybe to the brother and son I'd always wanted. In a flash, I felt nauseous. The seesaw went back and forth as we coupled together. I was a wreck. With my cock inside her as she bobbed up and down on me, she began to once again say the most inappropriate things imaginable. "We could name it 'Chris' if it were a girl. I always liked Chris." I watched her protruding tummy sway over me. I had lived in the same space for nine months. Now, my firstborn was living there as well. And I still was too weak to fight off seeing her body, her smile, her freckled skin, one more time. "I think Steven Jr. won't work. I wanted that at first," She moaned and gasped as she bottomed out on my cock, "But then, how could we tell people I have two boys named Steven?" When I came, and as post-sex clarity plunged me into guilt and despair, she kept it up. "Oooo, good one. Real good one, honey. Maybe it'll be twins now." She laughed. I couldn't even get up and run into my room, as that was where we had just continued our abomination. I felt like I was in prison. --- I woke to screaming the next morning. My mother and father fought often, but this was like no other fight I had ever witnessed before. I could only make out a few words, many of them started with the letter 'F'. When it was over, a door slammed, and I glanced out my bedroom window to see her driving away. I put some clothes on and made my way downstairs. I was shocked to see my dad, sitting there at ten in the morning, with two cold beers, one closed, one open. "Steven," he said, "You wanna sit down with me?" I don't know how he knew, but I knew he did. I walked over like a scolded four year old, about to get the beating of his life. The beer being there was the only thing that kept me from running away. It was that small token of civility that kept me in the house. He opened it and handed it to me, "This is for you, bud." For a while we sat there and he stared straight ahead. He sort of palmed the side of his face and rotated the cold beer can in his hand. Eventually he looked over, and smiled a bit. "Have a drink, enjoy." I took a cautious sip from the can and he sighed. "The only way I know how to explain it is...like this. There's things in life, when you're young, that you think make you a grown up. A little hair on your face, a little money in your pocket, a girl on your arm. Maybe a nice car and some good wine. I don't know...growing up sucks, but there's some good things. Naive things that, you think, when you're younger are the real deal. That's why the younger you are, the more hope and love you have for the world." Even if his words weren't Shakespeare, I knew the man well enough to feel them clamoring up from his heart. He took a good swig, a manly drink like only your father can. He continued. "Then, you run into these things. These horrifying, bizarre things you just couldn't have imagined when you were a kid. Just when you start to think you've seen it all. For the big things you've got....heck, genocide. Kids with diseases. And on a small scale, it's women. Or hell, to be fair, shitty men too. That's the one thing you never see coming. How self-absorbed and goddamn evil people can be. And how evil, and vile, sex and relationships get." He took another drink. "I can remember seeing cranky old men, and half-senile old women when I was younger, and thinking it was strange that normal people became that way. But with a dose of age, you realize that they're the new normal because they've seen and heard it all. And the rest of us? We're just slowly fading into cynicism like them. They've seen the darkness at the end of the tunnel we're all journeying down. Shit like this. Just when I think I've seen it all." "Dad, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He waved his hand at me, "You're my son and I love you no matter what. You're my blood," I could swear I had heard the same line in a Rocky movie. It was fitting of him, "And don't you dare feel bad about this. I was a horny nineteen year old man like you once, and in a way that's exactly what got us into this mess. The same clouded judgement and that crazy bitch preying on me...I've been there. But damn, I never thought she'd go this far." I shook my head, "I didn't think she'd, you know...at first, she made it out like we were just having fun or something." He grinned, "Women don't work like that. The best of them want a man to stay so they can feel love and have someone to care for. And you'll meet that girl one day. But then there's the ones like her. The ones that prey on the weak, or in this case, their own kid, to load up one more pregnancy before they head to divorce court so they can suck their marriage dry for all its worth." It still hurt to know my mom was using me. It didn't feel true, but I wasn't as stupid as much as I was naive. I knew it was. My heart hurt. "But, in my infinite wisdom, I put in security cameras all through the house last week, room by room, even while you were all here. Little battery operated things, the size of a pack of cigarettes. And the one above your closet sure tied everything together. I sniffed this out awhile ago, and thought it was just another affair. When I started to see how you've been acting...the anxiety, acting lost. I knew there was something more to it. How sinister it was though...I mean, Jesus Christ." He sighed, "Thank the good Lord she's on her way to the offices of Dr. Derek Fink right now, my good golf buddy. He thinks he's doing me a favor since I don't want to raise a kid into old age. You know what puts a cement wall up against crazy? Videotape and paternity tests." A hearty laugh let loose from his bearded mouth and I couldn't help but nervously smile. We dabbled a moment, and drank. "All I have to worry about now is you. I can't imagine what that loony toon did to your head. But we can talk about this another time. Maybe there's a counselor out there that can hear your story and not shit their pants. I dunno. But for now, you're safe. And she's gone. And you're back to being a kid again. And that's a start." We lingered again. I was taking it all in. I felt the need to say something, so I did. "You really aren't mad at me, dad?" He looked to me and smiled. He rustled my hair, the same way my mother had. "Kid, if I was in your same shoes? With a woman who looked like that and hormones messing with me? I'd have done the same thing." More silence drifted through the room, until he broke it. "Yea that was the one thing that woman had, when we were younger anyways. She sure as hell knew how to get the job done," He drank his beer, "Ya know, we got something in common now." He ribbed me a bit with his knuckle and let out another hearty laugh, and this time I had to join him. If my parents had one thing in common, it was a sick sense of humor. -- My dad patted on the back of my friend's SUV as we pulled away. I waved, thinking about how insanely close we had come in the last week. It was a seven hour drive, and I knew I would miss him, but I was eager to get back to school and to have some sense of normalcy. A couple hours into the drive, my two friends got on the subject of hot older women. I let the talk drift over me, as I felt nearly stoned trying to relate to anyone on the subject of sex. "Lemme say this, lemme say this....Steve's mom is fucking hot." "She is, she is, she fucking works out dude. Those bomb ass tits with that ass..." They went on and on, being more vulgar as they talked, but just the mention of her got me thinking. Would I see her again? Where was she? Did she keep the baby after all? Just then, one of the songs that played as I climaxed into her the last time on that fateful day came over the CD player. The driving bass brought back a muscle memory of making love to my mother. Suddenly, for a half hour, I could barely appear coherent as my thoughts drifted back to all the erotic imagery I'd suppressed from the summer. I asked to stop at the nearest gas station to use the restroom. When we did, I practically ran inside and masturbated to orgasm. I stayed in there perhaps too long, gathering my thoughts and guilt. "Dude, you were in there forever, and it's fuckin' gross." was all they said when I exited. They were right. I was trapped someplace, forever. And it was fucking gross. The next fifteen minutes, as the road rolled by, I tried to see a way I could not betray my dad. I looked to find a way to be normal, like I knew I should be. But all the paths I saw, in my loins and my soul, pointed in the wrong direction. I sure as shit didn't love her, but I needed to fuck her again. I needed to taste her. There wasn't any stopping it. I knew a thing or two about business from my dad. He always talked about leverage. Finding something the other side wanted in a negotiation. Even now, if she did get the abortion, she could get knocked up again without my knowing. I had to even the playing field. With what was perhaps the worst, and most impulsive decision I ever made, I spoke up. "Hey, so you guys wanna fuck my mom, huh?" They agreed and started in on their vulgar banter. I looked at my phone, and opened an app that let me track the location of my facebook friends. Sure enough, my mother's pin on the map was a few blocks away from my apartment at school. She was preying on me again, huh? Well, maybe she wasn't the predator after all. Maybe it was about time I grew the fuck up. "What if I told you guys that you could? You know....fuck my mom...." --- To be continued...