As My Dad Sleeps It Off Pt. 01

Mother and Son Who seduced who?

Disclaimer: All sexual activity is between characters over the age of 18. This is a mostly true story based on my life experience. Any similarity between it’s characters and any other real people is entirely coincidental. I hope you enjoy.

This actually happened when I was in my teens. My mother is gone now. So, I decided to share my story. The names were changed to protect the not so innocent. This happened back in the mid 70’s. So, keep in mind that times were different back then. Some things that I’ll share are common place now, but back then were not so much so.

I hope you like it. This is my first attempt at writing, and they say write what you know. So, here goes…

It was Saturday morning, and a typical mid 1970’s Mississippi August. Hot as hell, and so humid that it was almost unbearable except for the fact that we had lived there our whole lives becoming accustomed to the weather. I know many of you may think we’re all inbred rednecks down here in the south, but that’s not the case. However, I may find it hard to remove that impression some of you may have after reading my story.

As I woke with a typical morning wood, I began thinking of one of my teachers, Mrs. Knight. Although I was white, I had a huge crush on this gorgeous ebony goddess. Now I don’t consider myself as being racist, but in the 70’s interracial relationships were just as taboo as the story I’m in the process of telling.

Mrs. Knight had huge breasts, probably at least a DD cup, that jiggled just perfectly in the tight dresses she wore with the somewhat plunging necklines guaranteeing that every boy in her class would get a boner that would be torturous for the entire length of her one-hour class. She was a very curvaceous woman. She also had the most beautiful almond shaped eyes, and a large ass that swelled in just the right places. She always had her hair pulled back in a ponytail, and had nice thick thighs perfect for wrapping around a young boy’s head or hips or both if you’re lucky. How could any male my age of 18 years resist such a stunning figure of a woman. I always thought it amazing that she dressed in such a manner considering her husband was a minister.

Too bad she was such a bitch as a teacher.

I held my morning wood while thinking of Mrs. Knight, and I began to slowly stroke my manhood as I imagined her undressing just for my singular pleasure. The more clothes she removed, in my mind, the faster my strokes became. Once her gorgeous globes were bare, with her nipples hard and ready for sucking, in my lustful thoughts, I couldn’t take any more. My cock exploded with a massive gush of my sloppy sap into the wad of bath tissue I used to catch my load. Then three more spurts followed leaving me expended of all energy.

As I lay there with my continued thoughts of Mrs. Knight bouncing around in my head, trying to catch my breath, I slowly returned to normal. Then I got up out of bed, dressed, and went into the kitchen for breakfast. We lived in a typical 3 bedroom ranch style home at the time.

This was a typical Saturday morning. My mother was in the kitchen preparing my breakfast. I didn’t speak being the rebellious teen that I was, but my mother said “morning”. I think I may have just grunted a “morning” back to her. We weren’t particularly close. My whole life was mostly memories of my father passed out in his chair. He was an alcoholic which affected my whole family, and left me holding in all of my feelings about pretty much everything as I would learn later in life, but that’s a different story.

As I sat there eating my breakfast, I didn’t think much of my mother in her night gown which came down to mid-calf. It was more utilitarian than sexy. It showed no cleavage, and was in no was intended to be inviting. She wasn’t particularly attractive in my eyes. She was just my mother. I was considered a late baby. So, she was 55 at the time.

I had just finished my breakfast, left the house, and hooked up with my buds to smoke some weed and enjoy the day.

I guess I should give you a little more back story. As I mentioned, my father was an alcoholic, and passed out in his chair every night. What I didn’t mention is that I also have a sister 2 years my senior, but she had married and moved out of the house 2 years earlier which left her bedroom unused. So, my mother took advantage of the situation, and moved into my sister’s old bedroom.

Obviously, with my mother sleeping in a different bedroom than my father, and him being passed out every night, that didn’t lead to much intimacy, I’m sure. However, I don’t think she was looking for intimacy at the time. At least not from my father. It was not a comfortable environment in which to be raised… again a different story.

Now, being a red-blooded teenage male, you can imagine how much I masturbated in my room. I kept a roll of bath tissue in my room to catch my ejaculation, and additional cleanup after the fact. Being that young, I also had no forethought of what my parents may think as they emptied Beşiktaş Escort my waste basket full of sperm-soaked tissue. I can only assume they knew what was going on in my room each night with my door closed. The evidence was right there in front of them.

One night I was going through my nightly masturbation rituals thinking of Mrs. Knight. However, sometimes I would also think of Miss. Jones. Now she was young, and in her early 20’s. This was her first teaching job. She had blonde hair which curled some and came down to her shoulders, and she also had nice breasts. They weren’t as large as Mrs. Knight’s breasts, but I’m sure they were probably at least a C cup overflowing with some extra nice tit flesh. She was also a curvaceous woman. Although I don’t really consider myself having a foot fetish, I did really like Miss. Jones’ nice chubby toes she always showed off as she loved wearing her sandals. Those toes dampened many a wad of tissue as well. As you can see, my fantasies varied greatly.

These were obviously two classes I didn’t do well in due to my wondering thoughts which left me leaving class daily with a throbbing hard-on with no way to take matters in hand so to speak.

Again, back to the story, I was going through my nightly masturbation rituals, and stroking my massively hard cock when, all of a sudden, my door opened. It was my mother. She quickly asked “ARE YOU…?!” seeming a bit upset, I knew the rest of that question was “masturbating”. Fortunately, she quickly closed my door and left.

Nothing was ever said about it again. I think she preferred to act like nothing ever happened, and life went on just as always. Of course, that didn’t slow down my masturbation schedule either. I continued my fantasies about Mrs. Knight and Miss. Jones appearing nightly in a mind near you. Sometimes my friend’s mother, Mrs. Day, would also slip into those fantasies as well. She was young. I’d say in her mid 30’s, and she didn’t really have much in the way of tits. Actually, I’m being a little generous there. She had no tits at all. An A cup max. She didn’t even really need a bra except for the fact that they were heavily padded bras. However, she did have the most scrumptious ass I’ve ever seen. As they say… When God closes a door, he opens a window. Well, that ass was her window, and she knew it. She always dressed to properly display that ass.

Those fantasies really bring back some pleasant memories. Every now and again I still masturbate with these lovely women in mind. I guess it just occurred to me that I’ve always fantasized about older, more curvy women. I can’t even recall a girl my age that I fantasized about.

After being caught red-fisted so to speak, I started locking my door to eliminate that possibility from ever happening again. Of course, the evidence still remained in my waste basket. Ah, the stupidity of youth.

One day, my father was at work as usual. He didn’t start drinking until he came home which he did privately outside with his bottles of vodka hidden everywhere… Like we didn’t know.

I saw that my mother was home which was unusual as she worked an 8-5 job every weekday. I was just coming in from school. I was going to the local community college, and had different schedules based on the day of the week. So, at the time, I assumed my mother didn’t realize I was coming home. I walked pass my room, and to my mother’s room to let her know I was home.

When I got to her room, I got the surprise of my life. My mother stood on the other side of the room totally naked with her door open. I stood there for what seemed like forever looking at her surprisingly sexy body, but was probably only a few seconds. She never said a word. She just looked at me without moving. I remember being embarrassed beyond belief as I stood there taking in her body with my lusting eyes. Then I quickly turned and went back to my room almost sprinting. Again, nothing was ever said about this either. I think my mother just wanted to avoid these conversations all together which was fine by me.

Later I started thinking about it, and I realized my mother had made no attempt to cover herself which I thought was odd. I’ve always thought covering up was almost a reflex action made by women, or men for that matter, when they were accidentally caught unclothed, but she did nothing. So, as I thought more about it, she should have known there was a possibility I could come home considering my schedule being what it was. I also realized that I wasn’t particularly quiet when I came in the house either. Why didn’t she hear me moving around? Also, why didn’t she just simply close her door regardless of the time of day. Most people close their doors when they are about to change clothes. That would have eliminated any possibility of being caught naked. Right?

All of this really confused me. It just didn’t make any sense, or was I just over-thinking it? The thing that was most confusing was the fact that I had never thought about my mother in any sexual Beylikdüzü Escort way before, but now I was thinking about her all the time. Sometimes she would even creep into my masturbatory fantasies. That was a little freaky I thought. What I thought about most was the beauty of her breasts. They were sagging just a bit as would any woman of 55 years, but her nipples were perfect. The areolas were about a half dollar size with a perfect pencil eraser size nub in the center. Her skin was very pale like Snow White which set off the color of her beige nipples perfectly. Her figure was a very nice hour glass shape with a bit of a tummy as would be expected, and she had a perfect triangular shaped dark auburn bush which somewhat matched the color of her hair. Although there didn’t seem to be any of the gray in it.

She had a very sexy torso, but her face, legs and arms showed her 55 years. Her face had the creases of a woman who’d had a worried life. She had vericose veins on her upper thighs. Since I had only ever seen her fully dressed before, who knew what a hot body lay beneath? She had a wonderful womanly figure. She never dressed to show her curves as was the style for a married mother of her age at the time.

Now my thoughts were making me feel a bit guilty. After all this was my mother. She was entering my fantasies more and more. Not only that, but why was I able to see that mind blowing vision? Could she not hear me as I entered the house, or did she? Why had she left her door open? Did she want me to see? Was she frustrated from lack of intimacy with my drunkard father? Did she actually enjoy catching me masturbating? Was she purposely leading me down this path subtly making the first move herself, or was she just teasing me? Could she see this as a possible answer to both of our needs? No, that’s just stupid. Right?

As these questions raced through my head, my mind began to wonder if I should try to fulfill both our fantasies, assuming this was also her fantasy. Is she waiting on me to make the first move? Do I have the guts to make the first move? Oh, MY HEAD WAS ABOUT TO EXPLODE! So, I thought… Is there a way I could subtly let her know that I was interested without too much embarrassment? So, I decided to start “accidentally” brushing up against her from time to time to see her reactions.

One night while she was in her night gown, I “accidentally” brushed across her left tit in passing. SHE WASN’T WEARING A BRA! Oh, those tits were so soft and squeezable. There was no reaction on her part. She just kept walking. Was this her way of ignoring a situation as she had always done in the past, or was she receptive? She didn’t even acknowledge it.

So, a few nights later, I tried it again, and, again, no reaction. Well, regardless of her intent, I loved brushing by her tits. So, I decided to continue doing this until I got a reaction one way or another. Needless to say, this became a nightly part of my masturbatory ritual. Once, I actually caught a glimpse of her face in passing, and she seemed to have a small grin. But I wasn’t sure.

Since she didn’t seem to mind my brushing against her tits, I decided to add brushing up against her ass while we were in our tiny kitchen together. This is easily explained, right? Again, no reaction. So, this too became a nightly ritual.

As time went on, I decided to confront her. So, one night she was sitting on the right end of the couch with her legs underneath her, across the den from my comatose father, doing her crossword puzzle. She loved those puzzles. So, with all my courage in tow, I sat down beside her. Not too close. She said “Hey”, and I just sort of mumbled my response a bit out of fright from what I was about to do, and she said “What?”. So, I said “Moma, I’m worried that I missed a once in a lifetime opportunity.” Trying to be as ambiguous as possible, and leaving myself an escape route.

Moma said “Oh my, and what opportunity was that?”

I replied “I er ah… should not have turned away, and went to my room the day I saw you in your room.” THERE, I said it, or so I thought. I had passed to the point of no return.

She asked “What are you talking about?”, and I replied “The day I saw.. You know…”

She said “No, I don’t know. Saw what?” CRAP, she was going to make me spell it out. So much for my escape route. Now, I was wondering… Does she really not know, or is she just playing coy? So, I mustered up all the courage I had, and said “The day I saw you naked!”

She said “Oh, that.” To which I replied “Yes, that.” Now I was in way too deep. So, I was fast forward all steam ahead. “I wonder what might have happened if I had come into the room with you instead of going to my room.”

Then she said “Why would you do that?” CRAP! Was she trying to make me come out and say “I WANT TO FUCK YOU!”? Now, I knew she was playing coy. So, I had to bull through this, and just do what I wanted. So, I said “To be with you!”. That was a good way to say it. Right?

She then said Beyoğlu Escort “What do you mean ‘BE’ with me?”, and I replied “I would’ve liked to have been with you in a… uh… uh… more… intimate way.” Oh my gosh. What did I just say? Oh crap, and I looked down embarrassed that I had actually said this to my mother.

When I realized she wasn’t yelling at me, I finally slowly looked up into her eyes. There was no anger or reluctance that I could detect. That’s when I leaned over, took her into my arms, and lightly kissed her in a not so son like manner. When I pulled back, she just looked at me for a moment, and then she leaned in and started to kiss me back. It was a nice romantic type of kiss with no tongues. She just pressed our lips together for a while as we let our lips move about and feel each other. It was wet and moving like you might see on a Hallmark romance movie… Clean, but romantic.

Then she pushed me away, and I thought ‘Oh, well. I guess that’s that. I really fucked up.’

She said that she didn’t know if she could do something like that, and certainly not in front of my father. So, I said “He’s dead to the world right now. He won’t wake up from his drunken stupor for hours.” She said “Still, that’s incest, and It’s wrong.”

So, I asked her the questions I needed answered in my mind. Why did she leave her door open? Why didn’t she hear me coming in? Why didn’t she cover up, and why hasn’t she complained about my brushing up against her?

She then said “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did any of that. I just needed to be wanted by someone… anyone, I guess, including my own son.” So, I told her “I’m glad I gave you what you needed, but you just made things really hard for me… literally.” which probably wasn’t the best thing to say.

Then she left the room crying a bit, and that’s when I decided to do something to make her want me the way I wanted her. I hoped it would take too much pushing because she seemed to enjoy the attention. My plan was to call her name, leave my door unlocked and cracked every time I masturbated with her as my fantasy which, of course, was every time. Because I knew that she would do what she always did. She would never mentioned it again, and life would go on as it always had in our house.

So, when I implemented my plan, I would think of her naked body while I vocally call to her “Oh Moma, fuck me, ride my cock, I want your pussy so much, suck my cock Moma, how do you like your son’s cock deep in your pussy, feel how hard you make me.”

The first few times I did this, nothing happened, but, one night, I saw her shadow in my doorway as I masturbated. So, I got really loud. “Moma feel my cock. Oh, you make me so hard. I love sucking my Moma’s tits. They’re so beautiful. Feel my hard cock enter your hot pussy. Feel me filling you up. How does it feel to have a hard cock in your pussy again?”. Then the shadow disappeared, but I knew she knew exactly what I wanted.

So, I decided to masturbate every night at the same time with my door about a quarter of the way open. Enough so she could see and hear the show I was putting on for her. I wanted it to be obvious. From that point on, nearly every time I jacked off, I could see my mother’s shadow in my doorway. Man, that was so exciting knowing that my mother was watching me jerk off

Then, one night, I saw some movement from the shadow in the doorway, and heard what I thought was some whimpering and grunts. IT WAS MOANING I HEARD!! My mother was masturbating while watching me!! It was such a turn on. I lay there masturbating, calling her by name, “Moma”, and talking dirty all while watching through the cracks in my eyes the shadow movement outside, and listening to the small whimpers, grunts, and moaning.

After a few nights of this, I waited until I heard my mother masturbating again, and I said “Please come see how hard you make me, Moma. Please come in here and join me. Let me show you how you make me feel!”

Then the shadow disappeared. So, I quietly got up, took off the rest of my clothes and went to her room while still sporting a raging hard-on. I quietly tested her door knob to see if it was locked. It wasn’t. So, then I put my ear to the door, and listened. Was that crying or moans I heard. Was she upset, or was she excited? That’s when I decided that I’ve gone this far. I may as well push it to the end.

So, I slowly opened the door, and I looked in as quietly as I possibly could. That’s when I found her on her bed with her hand rubbing her cunt. She was too excited to notice I was even there, or perhaps she wanted me there and did her thing… ignoring the situation. So, now naked as the day she gave birth to me and with my cock pointed directly at my mother, I crept in and climbed up on the bed with her. Then I pulled my mother’s hand away from her soaking wet twat, and put it on my hard cock. She put her wet fingers around my shaft squeezing softly.

I told her “Please let me show you how desperately I want you. Feel how hard you make me.” I couldn’t believe I was being this forward with my own mother. I know I had spoken dirty while jacking off with her listening, but I could always pretend I didn’t know she was there if confronted. This was different. I was in her bed with her as I placed her hand on my hard cock. There’s no more pretending. There’s no turning back. This is real… one way, or another. This was happening.