I blame it all on my Psychology 101 professor…
If the old coot didn’t cancel one of my classes, I wouldn’t have gone home in the middle of the day. If I hadn’t gone home when I did that day, I wouldn’t have been the one to grab the mail from the box, and when I did – well, let’s just say that I’m a curious guy.
So when I saw a letter addressed to my mother with a return address from some outfit called “What’s Love Got to Do with It”, that curious nature of mine took over. It wasn’t junk mail, because if it was I would have just figured that it was the same kind of crap I get inundated with all the time.
This had a stamp on it, not a bulk mail thing, and it looked like a bill was inside. I was dying to open it up to see whether my old lady was actually trying to hook up with guys, but after I tried and failed to read what was inside by holding it up to the light, I had a revelation.
Actually, it wasn’t all that brilliant, especially since I’m a freshman in college who will be paying forever for the knowledge I’m getting, but anyway, I said to myself, go to the website you freaking moron.
So I did, but while they had a few pictures of people, none were of my mother. I was welcome to check out everybody on the site, but for that I would have to pay. I was curious, but not that curious, so I forgot about it.
But not for long. Within an hour I signed up for the stupid dating service. Unlike my mother, I used a credit card to pay for it, didn’t give my real address and started up a new e-mail account just for this.
After I signed up, I took a closer look at the site, and discovered to my shock that this wasn’t a dating service, but a meat market. The ads were pretty much written by people looking for sex. I guess the name of the site pretty much came out and said it, but I hadn’t been expecting this.
$19.98 later, I was trolling through the offerings of “What’s Love Got To Do With it?”, looking through the collection of desperate men women, not sure whether I was hoping to find my mother or not. Part of me was excited but another part of me said, “come on Mom, you can’t be that desperate”.
I’ve always considered my mother an attractive woman, but since the old man split about 5 years ago she has let herself go a bit, adding about 20 extra pounds and starting to show the effects of living until 52. She looked good to me though, and I had long harbored fantasies about her.
I was actually happy when I went through the ads of the women of our area and didn’t see my mother. Even though I had wasted 20 bucks it was worth it to not have to worry about her trying to hook up with these losers, but then I saw her.
The ad was listed in a region a bit south of us, and if I didn’t recognize the picture I wouldn’t have known it was my mother because the photo wasn’t real clear, she had sunglasses on, and it was from a few years ago to boot. My stomach churned as I read the ad.
LukeWarmMama was the name she had chosen, and in the ad she said that she was a divorced white woman, 48 years of age, and was 5’5″ and 135 pounds.
She had fudged a little bit with that, taking 4 years off of her age and maybe deducting 10 pounds or so, but I figured that was probably par for the course with something like this site.
It got worse from there. She had checked the ൚-25 male” for the age box, and had checked “any” for race and physical characteristics. If that wasn’t bad enough, in the part for a personal comment, while she wasn’t as graphic as many of the ads, there was something unsettling about reading this from your mother.
“I only call myself LukeWarmMama because I’ve been divorced for 5 years and haven’t gotten any for a while, so while it might take me a few minutes to remember how to do it, once you get my pilot light lit I’ll promise to wear you out. I am VERY open minded and never liked to use the word ‘no’.”
“Mom,” I said softly to the picture on the computer screen.
I knew she still wasn’t over the old man taking off like he did, but it wasn’t like he was any great shakes or anything. He doesn’t contact me much, only on birthdays on stuff like that, because he’s too busy with the bimbo he left Mom for, so my allegiance is with her.
Still, seeing a picture of your mother at this sleazy site, and reading how she’s willing to do anybody under 25 is unsettling. Also, she uses the word “no” plenty of times with me.
So for the hell of it, I composed an ad for myself, figuring that maybe I would get some laughs for my twenty bucks. I borrowed a picture of some skateboarding dude, and claimed that I was looking for women over 40.
“Looking for mature ladies who can appreciate a young and hung dude,” I wrote. “Maybe we can teach each other a few things.”
Since my mother claimed that she lived about 40 miles south of where we actually live, I chose the opposite, and said I was about 50 miles north of Albany. That would make my mother feel a little safer, since I was betting she gave a different location because she was afraid to run into a local guy.
After that, I waited. Would my mother contact “YoungFungi”, the name I had given myself?
She did not. Only one woman did, and she was a woman that look about 80 and sent me a picture of her with her legs spread wide open along with an offer to sell me her worn panties for $20. So just for the heck of it I send my Mom, or rather LukeWarmMama, a message. I told her I thought she was hot and asked her if she had seen my ad.
The next day she replied.
LukeWarmMama: Hey YoungFungi. Funny name :). Yes I saw your ad. You’re cute but I don’t want to go to jail over this. I’ve got panties older than you. Thanks anyway.
I got pissed off, but replied.
YoungFungi: Hey Mama. You said you’re looking for somebody 18-25 and I’m 19.
She replied the next night.
LukeWarmMama: Sorry. No offense. This is all new to me, and you’re only the second guy to contact me so far.
The wait between messages coming and going was frustrating me, so I suggested we instant message each other. Mom, or LukeWarmMama, said she didn’t know how, and I was tempted to go down the hall to the computer room and explain it to her, but instead I explained how she could do it. The next night, she had it figured out.
LukeWarmMama: Hey, this is better. Smart k**. So what’s on your mind?
YoungFungi: You. Your picture really got my attention.
LukeWarmMama: Ha! You must need glasses. Cute k** like you, what do you want with a old woman?
YoungFungi: You don’t look old to me.
LukeWarmMama: To be honest, the picture is a few years old.
YoungFungi: I’m betting that you aren’t getting older but getting better.
LukeWarmMama: You’re a charmer, aren’t you. Trying to talk my knickers down?
YoungFungi: That’s the general idea, isn’t it?
LukeWarmMama: Maybe my panties are already off 🙂
YoungFungi: Naughty. What you are you doing with your pants off?
LukeWarmMama: Looking at your picture. Trying to imagine what a 19 year old guy looks like naked. It’s been a few decades since I saw one. Touching myself. Sick huh?
What started off as a joke was becoming something else. It was bad enough that I was screwing around with my mother, but teasing her like this, combined with the fact that if I went down the hall and opened the door I might find her playing with herself while looking at the picture of that anonymous dude, was really getting crazy.
Time to stop.
The only problem was that I wasn’t stopping. I was taking my digital camera out and, after making sure that there wasn’t going to be anything recognizable in the picture except for an eraser and the top of a newspaper that showed the date, took a couple of myself. Very intimate and specific pictures, and I sent them to her.
YoungFungi: Sent you something Mama. I think you’ll like them better than the picture on the website.
There was a delay, and after I sent a message asking whether she got the photos, she came back.
LukeWarmMama: Did you get those pictures from the Internet?
YoungFungi: No. That’s me, for better or worse.
LukeWarmMama: How do I know that? Can’t see your face.
YoungFungi: I’m shy. Look at the date of the newspaper.
LukeWarmMama: Holy s***!
Young Fungi: It’s okay to say shit.
LukeWarmMama: Shit. It’s not even hard, is it?
YoungFungi: To be honest, it’s sort of halfway. After all, I’m chatting with you, and this is getting me hot.
LukeWarmMama: That’s a big dick.
YoungFungi: It will get a little bigger, especially when it gets near you. You like big cocks?
LukeWarmMama: I don’t remember. It’s been a while. Since before I was married. The one I was attached to for way too long wasn’t anything like yours. Even before him, the only one I’ve had near as big as yours wasn’t white.
YoungFungi: Really? You must have been a wild one when you were my age.
LukeWarmMama: I had my moments, but I’ve been a good girl since then. Too good.
YoungFungi: You want to send me a picture of you?
LukeWarmMama: One like you sent me? I don’t know how. Me and computers … you know?
YoungFungi: Nobody around that can help you?
I asked that, and after I did I tried to imagine how that would work, with Mom coming down to my room to coyly ask about sending photos, but she just said no, she couldn’t.
YoungFungi: That’s okay. Why don’t you tell me about a part of you? The part you like the best.
LukeWarmMama: Well, I guess my breasts are pretty good.
YoungFungi: Your tits?
LukeWarmMama: Yes, my tits 🙂
YoungFungi: Tell me about them Mama. You don’t mind me calling you Mama, do you?
LukeWarmMama: No. That’s okay. My tits? Well, I’m not a Kardashian or anything.
YoungFungi: I don’t give a shit about bimbos with silicone jugs. I want to feel real tits. Nice big fleshy ones.
LukeWarmMama: Well, they’re big alright. I feel like a cow. Wish I had these when I was young. I’m a D cup, and even that’s getting a bit snug.
YoungFungi: I’m drooling, in more than one place. Big nipples?
LukeWarmMama: Yes. Very.
YoungFungi: Tell me about your pussy.
LukeWarmMama: It’s wet.
LukeWarmMama: I’m dripping.
YoungFungi: Tell me more about it. You have hair down there?
YoungFungi: A lot.
LukeWarmMama: You want me to shave it?
YoungFungi: Not really.
LukeWarmMama: I can trim it if you want. I’m kinda like a bear down there.
YoungFungi: Up to you. I like a nice hairy pussy. What else?
LukeWarmMama: Probably tight again. Haven’t had anything in it for five years except my fingers. You’d probably split me in two with that big cock of yours.
YoungFungi: I’d be gentle.
LukeWarmMama: Not too gentle, I hope.
YoungFungi: Why? You like it rough?
LukeWarmMama: A little.
YoungFungi: Mmm… It would be interesting to get together with you sometime.
LukeWarmMama: When can we get together? Tomorrow?
YoungFungi: Uh – no, I can’t.
LukeWarmMama: When then?
YoungFungi: Busy the next few days.
LukeWarmMama: Guess I sound a little anxious. It’s just that this – chatting like this – is really turning me on.
YoungFungi: Me too.
LukeWarmMama: If you were in front of me right now…
YoungFungi: What would you do?
LukeWarmMama: Anything. I’m so fucking horny I could scream.
YoungFungi: I’d love to hear you scream, especially if I was the one causing it.
LukeWarmMama: Oh, I’m a screamer alright, or at least I used to be. I am up for just about anything though.
YoungFungi: That covers a lot of stuff. Would you like it if I brought a friend with me?
LukeWarmMama: I’d rather just do a one-on-one at first. See how that went. Okay?
YoungFungi: Sure. But you wouldn’t mind having a third in the bed some time?
LukeWarmMama: Male or female?
YoungFungi: What would you prefer?
LukeWarmMama: Female, I think.
YoungFungi: Oh, you like girls?
LukeWarmMama: Been a while, but yeah.
YoungFungi: Nice thought. Me doing you doggy style while you go down on this girl I have in mind, a skinny little thing with flaming red hair and freckles.
LukeWarmMama: This isn’t fair.
YoungFungi: What isn’t?
LukeWarmMama: I was already horny to begin with and now you got me thinking about that kind of scene going on.
YoungFungi: What gets you crazier? Thinking about getting fucked or eating pussy?
LukeWarmMama: Cock, but the other isn’t bad either.
YoungFungi: You’re a crazy lady.
LukeWarmMama: I’ve got a lot of wasted time to make up. And like I said, I’ll do just about anything. Maybe not anal, because you’re so big.
YoungFungi: That’s okay.
LukeWarmMama: I’m not k**ding. When can we get together?
YoungFungi: Let me get back to you tomorrow night.
LukeWarmMama: Okay. Until then, I’ve got your pictures.
YoungFungi: What are you going to do with them?
LukeWarmMama: Guess. Good night.
I got up from the computer and went to the door, expecting to see my mother coming out of the sewing room where her computer was, but when she didn’t I tiptoed down the hall, ready to duck into the bathroom if she popped out.
She didn’t, and suddenly there I was standing just outside the door with my ear to the wood. At first I thought it was my imagination, but then it continued. Faint whimpering sounds, sounds I had made myself many times. The sounds of somebody biting on their shirt or sleeve in an attempt to stifle the sound of what was going to happen.
Some Norman Rockwell f****y snapshot this was; a teenaged guy outside in the hall with his pajamas down to his knees, stroking his cock while listening to his mother masturbate while unknowingly looking at a picture of her son’s dick.
Then a faint squeal came from behind the door, along with a clunk that sounded like her bumping into the keyboard shelf with things falling to the floor. I was cumming then myself, waddling away from the door while trying to catch my ejaculation in my cupped left hand.
My hand was overflowing by the time I made it to my room, somehow managing not to trip over my lowered PJ’s as I did. After I caught my breath, I cleaned my hand as best I could and pulled up my pajamas while trying to comprehend all that has taken place.
Good thing too, because I heard Mom out in the hall a moment later, and then she appeared in my doorway, looking rather well composed, all things considered. Much better than I did.
“Honey, do you need to use the bathroom?” Mom asked innocently. “I want to take a shower.”
“No, I’m good.”
“You all right babe? Coming down with something?”
“Don’t think so,” I said, trying to hide my flushed face while hoping the stench of my cum wasn’t as strong as I thought it was.
Mom went to the bathroom, and after I heard the shower go on I hustled down the hall and into the sewing room. The scene of the seduction, so to speak, and there was the chair she was sitting in while we had chatted.
I pushed the chair away from the turned off computer, and then I was kneeling down on the chair and touching the felt fabric of the seat.
“Holy shit,” I mumbled when the unmistakable scent of pussy hit my nose just after my fingers felt the wetness of the chair. “What am I doing?”
I don’t know what I was doing, but I know what I did. I licked the damn felt like it was her pussy, and if I didn’t hear the shower being turned off I would have licked the fabric covering clear off the chair, so powerful was the effect of it all.
I hurried back into my room before Mom came out of the bathroom, and even though I turned off the light and tried to sl**p, sl**p didn’t come for a long time.
Talk about an information overload! Who knew all of this about Mom? Her being horny? Mom being with girls? Her being wild when she was young? Her being with a guy – well – let’s just say with a guy whose big cock had a different pigmentation than mine.
The old man would have shit if he ever heard about that, not exactly being Mr. Tolerant, but screw him. I only hear from the guy on my birthday, Christmas, or when he gets d***k and feels guilty. Tough to put my Mom down for being like – well – being like me. Horny.
The next night, I treated the computer like it was Chernobyl until a little after 8. I got weak, and the little head started thinking for the big one.
LukeWarmMama: Thought you were bored with me.
YoungFungi: You k**ding? I’ve been thinking about you just about non-stop.
LukeWarmMama: So what about it? You and me getting together.
YoungFungi: I like the idea.
LukeWarmMama: So let’s make a date. How about Friday?
YoungFungi: Um. No good.
LukeWarmMama: Why do I get the idea that you’re just screwing around me?
YoungFungi: Me? No.
LukeWarmMama: Well what’s the problem? I’m practically throwing myself at you.
YoungFungi: It’s not that.
LukeWarmMama: Look, if it’s me you’re worried about I’ll make it easy on you.
YoungFungi: I don’t understand.
LukeWarmMama: I’ll meet you somewhere. Someplace public. You can look me over – you don’t even have to talk to me – just check me out. If you don’t like what you see, turn around and go home. I’ll never bother you again. I promise. What do you say?
YoungFungi: Okay, I guess.
LukeWarmMama: Don’t sound so excited.
YoungFungi: I’m sorry. I guess I’m just kind of nervous.
LukeWarmMama: You’re not a virgin are you?
YoungFungi: Of course not.
LukeWarmMama: If I’m coming on too strong just say so. I’ll be anything you want me to be. Want me to play the whore? The innocent? Your teacher? Your friend’s mother? Your own mother? I’ll do it – I’ll play whatever makes it good for you – just don’t screw around with me. I get enough crap in real life.
LukeWarmMama: Let’s see, you’re way north of me. You know Lake George?
LukeWarmMama: There’s a place called The Tiki. You know it?
YoungFungi: Been by it.
LukeWarmMama: Saturday night. I’ll be in the lounge at 7 o’clock. I’ll be sitting by myself. I’ll wear red. Take a look, and if you don’t like what you see, let’s just call this conversation goodbye. No hard feelings. Okay?
LukeWarmMama: Okay. I’m looking forward to this. You have no idea how much.
YoungFungi: Me too.
What had I just done? The question haunted me as I stared at the computer, and luckily I snapped out of my trance when I heard Mom coming down the hall humming, managing to get the image off the screen when she passed my room.
Mom. Poor Mom. She was going to go up to The Tiki Lounge, a relic of the 60’s located in the resort village of Lake George, and she was going to sit in the lounge like a piece of meat, hoping that this YoungFungi will find her worthy of his attention.
Serves her right, I told myself. Throwing herself at this anonymous jerk on a website, talking like a slut and willing to do anything to get laid. She deserved to sit there waiting for a young stud on a white horse to sweep her off her feet and fuck her brains out. Who knows, maybe by the end of the night some other equally desperate jerk will take pity on her sitting there alone.
That was wrong. Had I not done pretty much the same thing many times in the past? Willing to do and say anything to a girl in order to get laid? Who was I to take the moral high ground?
Clearly, I had no choice. I needed to make up some excuse before Saturday night. Give YoungFungi a good reason to cancel the date, and never contact her again. A cold, a death in the f****y, or even worse.
I did none of the above. I did not contact LukeWarmMama again, and she only sent me once message, a little note telling me how much she was looking forward to Saturday night, and warned me to get plenty of rest.
“Ryan, I’m going to a dinner theatre Saturday night with a couple of girls from work,” Mom told me the night before the dreaded evening. “Might be late, or maybe stay the night, so you behave.”
I had nodded, still trying to figure out what to do, and then it was Saturday. Finally, I sent LukeWarmMama a message, telling her to contact me ASAP because something had come up.
Mom never checked her e-mail. She was running around the house like a headless chicken, and by the time 5 o’clock came around it was clear she hadn’t read the message.
“You look beautiful, Mom,” I said when she prepared to leave, and that was no bullshit because she had gone all out to make an impression.
She had bought a brand new red dress and her dark brown hair had been cut short and in a more youthful style. She had even bought new undergarments at Victoria’s Secret, I noted when I saw the wrappers in the trash. Underneath that sharp looking bright red dress was a new push-up bra that made her 38D’s even more prominent than usual.
“You’re sweet honey. Now be good, and if anything important comes up, give me a ring,” Mom said, and gave me a kiss on the cheek before hurrying out the door.
I had really done it this time. What had I done to this woman? This woman I loved and had always been there for me, even when her heart was being broken by the old man? The woman who had put her own life aside to raise me pretty much on her own? This was how I repaid her? Some son.
I didn’t want to do it, but I got in the car and drove north. This would have been so much easier to do before this. Instead, I was going to have to somehow break the news to her that YoungFungi wasn’t going to be coming.
Maybe I could call the bar, and ask them to tell the woman in the red dress that her date wouldn’t be coming. That was an idea. Claim car trouble or a death in the f****y. Then I could stay out of sight and watch her go to pieces all by herself.
On the way, I thought about the conversations we had over the Internet, and how sexy she had been. It wasn’t the first time I had been turned on my Mom, and I thought back to the times I had gone through the clothes hamper and pulled out her clothes, sniffing her worn panties and the necks and armholes of her blouses while fantasizing.
If only I could somehow become anonymous for the night. Disguise my face and be YoungFungi for a few hours. Make love to my mother just like she wanted. That would be awesome, and I would have no problem doing that. After all, I had done it in my mind often through the years.
I pulled into The Tiki, a dated hotel with a lounge that sported a tropical/Hawaiian look, at just after 7, parking way out of sight of the lounge. Getting out of my car, I spotted my Mom’s car parked even further back, and as I walked very slowly towards the restaurant part of the resort I looked to the heavens, not for wisdom but in hopes that a meteor would hit the building as soon as I went in.
No such luck, and when I peeked into the lounge I saw Mom immediately, sitting alone at a little booth opposite the bar. I ducked out of sight and kept looking at her. She looked so pretty, and she was putting on this little smile whenever anyone went by her, searching for a skateboarding dude that didn’t exist.
Time passed, and I was still outside the bar, trying to get up enough courage to go in while peeking in at Mom every minute or so. She was still smiling and seemed still hopeful whenever a man would come into the quiet bar. I made a couple of false starts toward the doorway, but backed up each time.
The third time was the charm, but not for anything I did. Mom happened to look over my way as I lurched around the doorway, and the double take she gave upon seeing me would have been comical if not for the circumstances.
“Ryan?” Mom asked as she looked at the son she thought was home. “How – what – is something wrong?”
“Yeah – can I sit down?” I asked.
“Oh – sure,” Mom said, and she looked around the room as I sat down, probably hoping that her blind date didn’t see her with some other guy and then leave as a result. “I’m waiting – waiting for someone.”
“I know,” I said. “Uh – he’s not coming.”
“No, I’m – what?”
“He’s not coming,” I repeated. “YoungFungi. He’s not.”
I don’t know what reaction I was expecting. If she reached into her purse and pulled out a gun and shot me, I would have had it coming. Her leaping up and slapping me and running out the door was the most logical action, and I knew that she had a can of pepper spray attached to her key chain. That would have been fine too. Anything was better than what I got.
As the reality of what was going on hit my mother, she changed. The 52 year old who could have passed for early 40’s a minute ago shrank and withered before my very eyes, until the woman that fell slowly back into the cushioned chair looked dead. The expression on her face was that of a woman suffering from shock.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” I kept repeating while Mom’s lower lip quivered. “Sorry.”
“You, Ryan?” Mom asked. “How? Why?”
“I’m sorry,” I kept saying, and then it must have really hit her.
Not only was YoungFungi not coming up here for a night of debauchery, but all of those things she wrote – her fantasies, her past and everything else, wasn’t being told to a starnger, but to her son.
“Mom!” I said as she jumped to her feet, but she wasn’t running out the door, but headed straight to the bathroom.
“Everything okay sir?” a waitress said after a minute, and I assured her that it was and pointed to her half empty glass. “The lady would like another.”
“And for you sir?”
“Sam Adams?” I said, and was surprised when she nodded.
My surprise was not that they had it, but that I was going to get served. I drained the remants of my mother’s vodka and tonic and waited for her to return, and by the time she did I had drained my beer and started sipping Mom’s refill.
I stood up when she came back, and after she slid into her chair at least some of the color had returned to her cheeks.
“I know sometimes you haven’t appreciated me being mother and father to you,” Mom said in between downing her drink and motioning for another. “But I didn’t think that you – you and I…”
“It has nothing to do with that,” I said. “Just because I didn’t like what you made me do – I mean at least you were there. You gave a shit.”
“Then why?” Mom said, her eyes searching and her ears listening for a good reason, and that wasn’t something I really had. “Why would you do this to me?”
“I don’t know. I came home one day and I saw a letter for you from that website. I found your picture and ad there, and things just happened,” I admitted. “I was kinda grossed out that you would do something like that, because you’re way better than those losers there.”
“I am one of those losers,” Mom said coldly.
“No you aren’t,” I said. “You’re still pretty no matter what you say. When you left the house before you looked incredible.”
“I thought I was going to have an amazing experience tonight,” Mom said sadly. “I was right. This is amazing. All those things I wrote…”
“I can wipe them off of the computers – both of them.”
“I guess that means you can forget what you read, and erase from you mind that your mother wrote it?” Mom said, looking at me while I shrugged. “I guess I could just say that I was making stuff up and just fooling around with a stranger, right?”
“People do that,” I said.
“If I was writing to someone I knew, I would have. The problem is that when you’re talking to someone that you don’t know and will never see more than once, you can be honest,” Mom said. “I don’t have anybody I can confide in, not since my s****r Annie passed. You were it.”
“So it turns out that your mother’s a pig,” Mom said over the rim of her upraised glass.
“You’re not,” I said. “That stuff you wrote. It’s okay.”
“I wasn’t apologizing,” Mom said. “You know what my love life had been since your father left me? One date. One date with Art Cringer.”
“The guy that owns the bakery?”
“Yeah. One of those rare weekends that your father took you a few years ago,” Mom confessed. “One glorious night. Drinking beers at the bowling alley bar and then getting taken out to the parking lot so he could push my face into his lap and shove his cock in my mouth. Thirty seconds. That’s the extent of the affection I’ve gotten from men since 2004.”
“And now this,” Mom concluded. “Serves me right. No fool like an old fool.”
“On the way up here,” I said after clearing my throat. “There was only one thing I kept thinking about. I kept wishing that somehow, I could become the guy that you were waiting for. Somehow disguise myself and do all the things he was telling you he would do to you.”
“A couple more of these and I won’t be able to see your face anyway,” Mom said with a cynical smile.
“I can take you home,” I said. “You driving isn’t a good idea. We can come up here tomorrow and pick up your car.”
“I’m going to stay up here for the night, Ryan,” Mom said as she motioned for another drink. “Have my own little party, even if it isn’t with my Fungi. I have a room.”
“Yep,” Mom said. “Rented a room. A room for me and my little fungi.”
“YoungFungi,” I sheepishly corrected.
“Right. A room for us, with a bottle of champagne and everything,” Mom said. “Everything a coyote and her stud could ask for.”
“You mean a cougar?” I asked, and I had to smile when Mom just shrugged her shoulders.
“Let me stay in your room with you tonight.”
“You? I mean, well I guess so. After all, you have been drinking too – and how are you getting beer served to you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then you had better stay up here. There are two beds.”
“I don’t want my own bed,” I said, hardly believing what I was saying. “I want to sl**p in your bed. I want to be the guy you thought was coming up here.”
“Come on Ryan,” Mom said, rolling her eyes at the suggestion.
“I’m serious,” I insisted. “Nobody knows us up here. Why not? How about if we finish this little party in your room?”
“I’m buzzed, but not that d***k,”” Mom said.
“Good. I don’t want you to be d***k. I just want you.”
“Even if it wasn’t sick, it still seems more like guilt, or pity,” Mom said, slurring ever so slightly.
“I don’t pity you. I love you,” I told her as I slipped my hand under the table and put it on her thigh, inching the dress up so I could rub the pantyhose, only to discover the leg was bare. “Everything I said on line I meant. I think you’re sexy and I want to make love to you. You know how many times I’ve peeked at you through your bedroom keyhole, trying to see you getting undressed?”
“Me?” Mom said. “I’ve seen some of the girls you’ve gone out with. I’m no teenager with a tight body. I don’t think you would be all that excited to see what 52 years can do to a woman.”
“You’re way more interesting to me than any girl my age,” I admitted. “I’m surprised that you’ve never noticed sometimes – the things I say and the things I do on occasion – and I’ve always dreamed that you had some kind of forbidden fantasy about me too. After all, just the two of us in that big house and all?”
“Last month I cam home from work early,” Mom said, swallowing when she felt my hand sliding up ever so slightly. “You had just gotten out of the shower and were drying off in your room. You had your back to me, and I walked slow in hopes you would turn around, but you didn’t.”
“I wish I knew you were there,” I said, not knowing whether at that point I would have turned around or not.
“You looked so beautiful from behind,” Mom said. “My little boy now all grown up.”
“Your hand, Mom,” I whispered. “Give me your hand.”
“Ryan,” Mom hissed when she saw me taking her dainty hand down under the table.
“Nobody will see us,” I said. “The place is almost deserted. Here. Just keep talking like normal.”
I set Mom’s hand on my lap and waited, figuring that while you could lead a horse to water, you couldn’t make it drink. My hand went back over to Mom, inching higher and higher up her leg while looking as innocent as possible.
Hair. The side of my hand hit hair. Mom was going commando, and although she made a choking sound when she felt my hand brush against her pubic hair, it also triggered something because her hand on my lap started moving.
Slowly at first, but soon Mom’s hand was pulling on the bulge in my pants, and as the bulge grew her hand moved faster and squeezed harder.
“Omigod, this is sick,” Mom mumbled as she smiled and nodded at the waitress passing by, the server totally unaware of what we were doing under the table. “I must be d***k.”
I didn’t think so. I saw my Mom d***k once, right after my father left her, and she was not looking like that now. A little buzzed maybe, but if she wanted to use alcohol as the excuse for what she was doing, that was okay with me for the time being.
“That feels so good Mom,” I sighed as the side of my hand toyed with her pubic hair, and I wasn’t sure that I was imagining that the hair felt a bit damp to the touch.
“That was really you – in the pictures, wasn’t it?” as her fingers stroked the bulge that was pointing in her direction. “Do you know what I did to myself while looking at the picture? Good grief. I can’t believe how big you are.”
“After we finish these drinks, I want to go to your room,” I said. “I want to make love to you so bad I can taste it.”
Mom picked up her drink and downed it in one gulp, and after setting the glass back down, looked at me.
Mom paid the check and got up a little unsteadily, and her staggering got more exaggerated as we stepped outside. After she again mentioned how much she had to drink, I ushered her off to the side of the building and pressed her against the wall.
“Look,” I said, getting in her face a little bit because I knew what she was doing and I didn’t want it to happen that way. “You’re not my mother.”
“Not tonight anyway,” I said after she looked shocked at what I said. “Tonight, you’re LukeWarmMama and I’m YoungFungi, and we came up here to fuck. We’ve both got something that the other wants. I’m wanted to have you since I first started noticing girls.”
“Ryan,” Mom whined, but she wasn’t reacting to my words but instead from my knee, which I was grinding into her crotch.
“One night. One night and never again, We’ll never even mention it again,” I continued. “For the last few years, all we’ve had is each other. Tonight we’ll just kick it up a notch. Tomorrow morning, we go back to being ourselves. That’s for the morning. This is now.”
Mom’s eyes were pleading as my face neared hers, and after I pressed my lips against hers I asked her for the truth, because it was important for me to hear it.
“You’ve had a few drinks, but you aren’t d***k, are you?” I asked, and I really think that if she said she was bombed, that would have been the end of it. I wanted her, but I wanted her giving herself to me willingly without any alcohol excuses.
“No – I’m not,” Mom said, and then I kissed her. Really kissed her and she kissed me back, so much so that I thought she was trying to swallow my tongue.
“Okay.” I said after our lips came apart.
蕪,” Mom said, holding up the room key, and I told her to lead the way.
Since it was a resort town and this was off-season, the place wasn’t very crowded, so the sound of Mom’s heels on the parking lot pavement echoed as we headed to the rear of the complex where Mom’s room was.
Down at the end of the row of rooms, there were a few guys drinking beer outside and cracking each other up, and I saw Mom try to hurry and get the door open so they didn’t see her going into a room with a guy their age.
Of course, she was nervous and dropped the keys, and then after she picked them up she had trouble finding the key hole. I took the opportunity to nuzzle the back of my Mom’s neck; a sexy neck exposed with her short haircut, and the more I nibbed at the neck the shakier the unlocking process became.
“Mm… you taste so good,” I said, and got the urge to do something nasty.
“Ohh!” Mom gasped as my hands came around her and cupped her breasts in my hands while grinding my cock bulge into her backside.
“Oh man, these are nice,” I purred into Mom’s ear as I roughly grabbed her breasts, kneading her big tits hard as she put her free hand up on the door to brace herself.
I could hear the guys at the other end of the motel hushing each other as they watched what I was doing to my Mom, and while I continued to maul her breasts through the dress while humping her I actually fantasized about lifting up Mom’s dress and taking her from behind right then and there.
She got the door open, however, so we ducked inside the room. Before the door closed one of the guys yelled out, “Cougar’s gonna get some!”, followed by gales of laughter, and I could tell Mom had heard it just as clearly as I had.
“Wait,” Mom said when I tried to push her against the wall, and I released her so she could go to the bathroom.
While I waited I saw the bottle of Moet Champagne in a bucket by the bed, along with a bag on the bed. I dumped the contents on the bed, chuckling when I saw a bottle of lubricant and a pair of fuzzy handcuffs – the novelty kind that barely stayed secure if you weren’t trying to escape – and a box of condoms.
Magnum, and a full dozen of them. Mom must have had her sights set high, although the way I was feeling I might need a dozen of them. I was pleased that she was taking precautions with the protection, but I stuffed everything back in the bag and set it aside because I was not going to use a condom. I wanted to feel my bare cock inside of Mom’s pussy.
I heard the toilet flush, and that got me moving. I stripped down to my underwear and checked myself out in the mirror. Not bad, but I could use a little more muscle on my fairly ordinary frame. I adjusted myself in my underwear, trying to make my package as inviting as possible.
Never could get used to wearing boxer shorts, so I stayed with the tight whiteys even though they looked absurd on me when I was in the aroused state I was in now. It looked like I had stuffed a snake in the modest white briefs, so I pulled it over to the side and waited for Mom to come out.
In a few minutes she emerged, and as she stood in the doorway of the bathroom I had to give her points for a grand entrance. Mom was wearing the very briefest white nightie, the fabric so transparent it hid little.
For a woman of 52, she was looking incredible. A little thick in the waist and thighs, but that was to be expected. I could see the thick brown triangle of hair below the hem of her nightie, and the satin was so sheer I could see her dark nipples clearly.
Her breasts were much bigger than I had imagined, and I couldn’t wait to see them out from behind the nightie. I stepped forward towards my mother, who was staring open-mouthed at my bulging briefs, and when I reached out for her, for a second I thought she had fainted.
“Omigod,” Mom moaned as she went to her knees before me, her hand running over the sidewinder in my underwear, and after she rubbed the bulge a couple of times, I was as hard as I could imagine being.
Mom grabbed the elastic on my underwear, stretching it out while pulling them down, and my cock sprang out wildly when it was freed from the confinement. Without even blinking or using her hands, my mother’s mouth took in the head of my cock.
“Damn!” I groaned as her lips slid down the shaft, and I watched as she proceeded to practically inhale my cock.
Mom’s mouth didn’t stop until I felt the tip of my dick hit the back of her throat, and when she drew her lips back up to the tip I could see her saliva was coating nearly the whole thing. My knees were shaking as Mom sucked hard right back to the tip, and then her mouth slid all the way back down until her face was in my pubes.
I grabbed Mom under her arms and lifted her up to her feet, because I was on the verge of cumming if she kept that up, and moved her to the bed. I wanted to go down on her but she wouldn’t let me.
“Now,” Mom gasped as her back hit the sheets, and then she was spreading her legs and grabbing my cock. “Fuck me.”
Mom rubbed my cock up and down the wet lips of her sex, and all I had to do was lean forward. She let out a scream when I first squeezed into her pussy, but her hands were clawing at my ass and pulling me closer all the while she howled.
A half dozen or so thrusts later, Mom was crying out again, squirming and writhing under me as her pussy damn near crushed my cock as she came, and when she stopped cumming I pulled out of her and crawled down between her legs.
Mom had trimmed her pussy a bit around the bikini line, I noted when I saw the shadow on the inside of her thighs, but her bush was quite dense as I buried my face in the jungle.
My tongue burrowed into the channel my cock had just been in, and as I lapped greedily around her clit I felt Mom’s hands in my scalp, grinding my face into her. I teased her, bringing her close to orgasm a couple of times before backing off, buying time for myself in order to regain some control of myself.
I looked up through the pussy hair at Mom, who was squeezing her tits while I went down on her. This had all happened so fast that I hadn’t had the chance to do that myself, but I had all night to do that, and I loved watching her kneading those big jugs and twisting her nipples.
Watching that turned me on so much that when I climbed back between her creamy thighs, I became an a****l. I pounded into Mom savagely, and to my surprise and delight, Mom took it and gave it back.
Her legs wrapped around my ass as I drove us up toward the headboard, and as Mom’s fingernails clawed my back and shoulders she gnawed on my neck and collarbone in between spitting out dirty talk that sent shivers down my spine.
I managed to last a couple of minutes before I came, blasting my cum deep into Mom’s womb just before we ended up on the floor, having taken the mattress half off the bed in the brief mating that whad become downright feral.
We started giggling when we saw what we had managed to do to the room in the space of about 15 minutes, and as we cuddled before getting up off the floor Mom whispered, “That was so good.”
“Way better than good,” I concurred as I lifted the mattress back onto the box spring while Mom tossed the sheets on top.
It was then that I saw Mom look down between her legs, and my eyes followed hers down to her pussy and the milky white seed that stood out starkly against her dark bush as it oozed out of her. It hit her that not only had she just fucked her son, but he had not used the condoms she had brought.
“I love you,” I said, not using the word Mom after that, and I held her tight, our sweaty bodies grinding together.
“Me too,” Mom said, and then I felt her hand down between my legs, finding my cock and pulling on the limp tube while whispering, “I want more.”
Mom moved me over to the other bed, and this time I was the one going down onto my back when Mom knelt between my legs and bent over, her pendulous breasts swinging down to my thighs as she lifted my flaccid cock off of my stomach.
This time my mother was looking up at my while her tongue played with the head of my cock, toying with the opening and licking around the ridge before taking my limp dick into her mouth. Mom stretched and pulled at my cock while sucking it hard, going down to my balls and popping them in, and when she felt it coming back to life that only made her crazier.
“That’s it,” Mom said, pulling her mouth off of me long enough to talk. “I can feel you getting hard. I want this big cock in me again so fucking bad!”
I didn’t know what worked better, Mom’s incredible cock-sucking abilities or the way she talked so dirty to me, but whatever it was, it worked.
“Wanna get on top,” Mom said as she straddled me and positioned my tool so she could ease down it on. “Fuck! Feels even bigger this way!”
I held Mom’s solidly thick waist as she lowered herself down onto me, and when I had fully impaled her she rattled off a string of obscenities before beginning to ride me.
“Damn, that’s good,” Mom grunted, and when my hands went up to grab those jugs that swayed in front of me her hands came up over mine and pressed them roughly into the pliant skin.
“That’s it. You like my tits? Squeeze them hard. Harder,” Mom implored. “Twist those nipples.”
A bit timidly at first, I did what Mom asked, but she kept insisting I do it harder. Soon I was twisting those fat pegs like I was turning the knobs on the car radio, and not only didn’t Mom mind, she was loving it.
“Oh yeah!” Mom groaned as she swayed on top of me, lost in some kind of trance as I abused her tits while my cock probed her deep.
“Come with me babe,” Mom was saying when she sensed I was close. “Almost there.”
I bit my lip while I tried to keep from popping my load, closing my eyes because the erotic vision of my mother gyrating on top of me was no help.
“Cumming!” Mom cried out, the last part of the word coming out as a squeal, and only then did I let go, spurting my seed into Mom while her pussy contracted around my dick.
Mom stayed straddled over me until my shriveling dick slipped out of her, and only then did she ease down on the bed and joined me in staring up at the ceiling.
“At least we stayed on the bed this time,” Mom quipped as we caught our breath.
We rested like that for a while, and I thought that Mom might have fallen asl**p, so I rolled over onto my hip and looked at her. She was awake, just laying there with her hands behind her head, and as my eyes went down her body it struck me how amazing she looked for her age.
Sure, her waist was a bit thick, as were her legs, but they were still shapely. And those breasts! Even on her back they were impressive, and while they weren’t incredibly firm and sagged a bit, that only made them that much nicer to me, and besides, natural tits this big should have a little give to them.
I leaned over and took Mom’s nipple in my mouth, and as I sucked gently on it I felt it swell and stiffen. My tongue went around the pebbly areola that was almost as large as a drink coaster, before going back to her nipple, thinking that maybe 19 years ago I might have been doing this very same thing.
“This okay? I asked when I noticed Mom watching me suck on her nipple, and she smiled and nodded so I kept going, caressing the globe while nibbling the tender bud.
My hand moved from her breast and slid up Mom’s arm all the way to her elbow. She saw me smile when my hands slid through her underarm, feeling the moist skin that was silky smooth to the touch.
“Shaved for the occasion,” Mom said with a twinkle in her eye as I looked at the lightly scented hollow.
“So I see,” I said, and found myself moving up from Mom’s breast and letting my tongue slide though her armpit, causing her to shiver in response.
“Not exactly,” Mom said. “To tell you the truth, I’m really sensitive there. This guy I know plays around with my armpits sometimes, and I laugh when he does it but in fact I get so excited that I end up getting myself off later because of it.”
“Really?” I said, feeling my face flush at hearing that.
You see, the guy she was referring to was me, and it had become a routine of mine that whenever I would see her in the kitchen or somewhere, and she had on a sleeveless top I would check to see whether she had shaved or not.
If I noticed some peach fuzz under her arms while she was working I would inevitably attack her, sort of, running my fingers through her underarms while saying goofy things like “fuzzy wuzzy”. Harmless stuff, although I thought I was the only one enjoying it.
“So if you keep nibbling my underarms, you better be prepared to do me again,” Mom said with a wink.
“I didn’t say that in order to get you to stop,” Mom said after I rolled away from her.
“I know, it’s just, you know,” I mumbled, because while I was more that interested in going at it some more, I had just cum twice in about an hour or so and didn’t think even these erotic circumstances could get me to rise again this fast.
“Roll over, babe,” Mom said, and after she helped me onto my stomach she leaned down and reached into her bag of goodies to pull out her lotion.
“Nice,” I sighed as the cool liquid hit my back, and then Mom’s fingers started kneading my shoulders, slowly working down as I felt her grinding her pussy into my backside while she massaged me.
As she continued downward, the feel of her pussy hair against my shin continued on to the back of my thighs, and after she reached the base of my spine I felt her get off of me.
“Lift up,” Mom said, and at first I thought she wanted me to roll over, but what she wanted me to do was to get up on my knees. “Keep your head down on the pillow.”
I did as she asked, and after spreading my legs wide I felt Mom grab my balls in a freshly lubed hand. She was squeezing my nuts hard, but it felt so good all I could do was groan as my sac got stretched and twisted.
“You like that, don’t you?” Mom cackled. “You’ve got a lot of spunk still in there, and I want it all. How’s the big boy doing down there?”
I looked back under me and saw Mom’s other hand grab my flaccid cock and begin to pull on it, milking me like I was a cow.
“Come on babe, get big and hard for me” Mom said. “I’m so fucking horny I could scream. That’s it. It’s coming. After you get hard I want to you to fuck me from behind. Rough. I want it hard and fast.”
Down between my legs, Mom’s hands were working like crazy, her left hand playing with my nuts and her right hand stretching my still limp cock to the limit. She was right that I was starting to come back to life, but it was going to take some time, and Mom seemed impatient.
“I need it babe,” Mom said. “How’s this?”
I jumped when I felt Mom’s wet finger first stroking my anus and then pushing it, and I enjoyed the first finger besides my own ever to end that orifice when something suddenly occurred to me. That wasn’t Mom’s finger.
I peeked down and saw that Mom’s hands were still milking my cock and balls, which meant that what was working inside my ass wasn’t a digit but a tongue.
“Oh, you nasty girl!” I moaned into the pillow while my body shuddered uncontrollably.
“Like that huh?” Mom said, taking her face out from between my ass cheeks to encourage me before diving in again. “You’re getting hard now, I can feel it. Don’t you cum, motherfucker!”
My cock became so hard in Mom’s fist that it was curling up toward my stomach, and so I did what Mom told me to do. You want rough?
The only sight more surreal that my mother naked on her hands and knees in front of me was me kneeling behind her, spreading her legs with my cock in hand. I felt like somebody else, and for a second I wanted to shove my cock into her fur ringed anus, but instead I slammed into her pussy.
The bed was jerking around, moving away from the wall as I thrust into her as hard as I could. The sound of out bodies slamming together echoed in the motel room, and with each plunge Mom yelped as I went deep into her.
“You like that?” I snarled, grabbing the back of Mom’s hair and pulling it back towards me.
There was a dresser on the side of the room, and I looked at our mirror image in disbelief, the two of us unrecognizable. I looked like a lunatic, a demented expression on my face as I savaged my mother. And then there was Mom, not only taking it but goading me to fuck her harder as her tits swung around below her, and screaming “Fuck you!” to the person in the room next to us pounding on the wall.
Mom came first, and she came hard, her whole body convulsing before her arms gave out and she went face first into the bedding. My hands went to her hips as I held her back half up while I continued to thrust into her, but she was not giving back any more but simply taking it, letting out little grunts.
I was tempted to jump off the bed, pull her head back up and cum in her face like they do in the porn movies but I wasn’t sure how she would take it. Instead I slowed down and eased up, bending over and covering her back with me while my hands gently kneaded her breasts as I came.
I held her for a moment before my cock fell out, and then I rolled away towards the headboard while Mom remained in that awkward position, with her head in the bedding and still kneeling with her backside in the air. From where I lay, I could see my cum starting to hang from her pubic hair like sap running from a tree, until she gently fell off to her side.
We might have dropped off for a minute. I know I did, but I woke up when the bed jiggled. Mom was getting off the bed, and for the first time all night she looked her age. She waddled to the bathroom like she was on a horse, and after she closed the bathroom door I closed my eyes again.
I woke up from what seemed like a wonderful dream, except when my eyes opened and I saw the shadow down by my hips, I saw that it was no dream. Mom had my cock in her mouth, and she was lovingly sucking on my erection, gently rolling my balls in her hand while her lips slid up and down the shaft of my manhood.
This was love, and she rebuffed my attempt to touch her, telling me that she was too sore, so I just relaxed and let her make love to my cock. It took a while, but I think that was more her idea than mine because she brought me to the brink several times before backing off a bit. When I came, I mumbled a warning just before out of courtesy, but her only response was to suck a little harder and squeeze my sac as I came.
Mom kept my dick in her mouth as it deflated, and it must have felt good to me because I fell back asl**p like that, with my Mom gently sucking on her son’s thoroughly drained dick like a pacifier.
The next time I woke up it was morning. Mom had already showered and dressed and gently nudged me before she left, telling me that their was a Continental breakfast of sorts at the lounge if I wanted to join her.
That sounded good, so I took a shower and dressed in the same clothes I came up there in, walked across the parking lot toward the lounge where Mom was sitting with a cup of coffee and a donut. She looked nervous, and gave me a tight lipped smile when I joined her.
“Morning Mom,” I said cheerfully, kissing her on the forehead like I would have done if we were home, and after I talked about everything from the fog on the lake to the blandness of the cinnamon bun I had selected for breakfast, she relaxed.
“I have to get to work by noon,” I said after we ate, dreading having to put in 8 hours stocking shelves instead of resting my aching body.
“Till 8. I’ll eat something there.”
“Drive carefully honey. I’ll see you later,” Mom said, heading back into the room to get her stuff together before checking out, while I drove back.
I didn’t feel guilty or filthy. Just the opposite. I had done exactly what I said I would. We had treated each other like strangers, and when the morning came we went back to normal.
Only it would never be normal, at least not like it had been. Every time I saw her, I would see her naked and remember that smoking hot body under the Mom clothes. I knew the things that turned her on, and it was all I could do to stop and turn back to the motel for another go-round.
There was so much I hadn’t gotten the chance to do. Parts of Mom that I didn’t explore or give enough attention. I wanted to stick my cock between those incredible tits and give her a pearl necklace.
Those handcuffs – they never got used or even unwrapped. Just thinking about putting those handcuffs on Mom, tying her to the bedposts while licking all of her favorite places until she came, gave me a hard-on that lasted the entire trip.
Work sucked even more than usual, and I was tempted to take Randi Mason up on her offer to go out after work. Randi was a cashier who I occasionally went out with, and while the couple of drinks usually ended up with a blow job, after having experienced what I had last night, everything paled in comparison.
So I told Randi I was tired, which was partly true, and headed home. The lights weren’t on when I got there, and I figured that Mom was worn out from last night too. I was fearing having to have a heart-to-heart talk with her with all the guilt coming out, so it was just as well.
As I climbed the stairs I saw a envelope on the top of the landing of our modest split level ranch. I turned on the light, and opened the envelope and took the note out.
“Ryan, I love you,” the note began. “More than ever, and I hope you feel the same. I know you said that today we were supposed to act like last night never happened, and I’ve tried all day to do that.”
“Hasn’t worked,” the letter continued. “You made me feel things no man has ever made me feel, and I haven’t been able to think of anything else all day. You ever hear about it not being that easy to get the Genie back in the bottle?
“It’s up to you honey,” the note ended. “If you’re Ryan reading this, just rip it up and throw it away. If YoungFungi is doing the reading, well, you know where to find me. Love you babe.”
I took the note and tore it up in little pieces, and then ripped them up some more just in case before going to my room and undressed for bed, thinking about the choices only briefly, because in reality there was only one.
“Hi YoungFungi,” Mom said as I opened her bedroom door. “I was hoping you would stop by.”
Mom was wearing the nightie she had on for a few seconds last night, and when I came into her bedroom she was kneeling on the bed with her hand between her legs.
“How could I refuse?” I said as I walked slowly toward the bed, my erection bobbing in Mom’s direction, and I smiled when Mom pulled out a dildo that she had slid inside of her while waiting for me.
Mom smiled and put the dildo in her mouth, giving it a slow and seductive suck before tossing it aside in the direction of the unwrapped handcuffs resting on the edge of the bed, and grabbed my cock to pull me closer.
Maybe tonight will be it. Just a pleasant encore of what had gone on the night before, and then tomorrow we’ll pretend this hadn’t happened and never mention it again, I mused while Mom deep throated me and my hands kneaded her tits through the nightie. Maybe.