My father died of a heart attack 3 years ago.
Before it happened, I used to think myocardial infarction came with risk factors and prior symptoms. However, Dad was healthy, and according to his health file, he didn't suffer from hypertension, diabetes, obesity, high cholesterol, or other known risk factors. He also exercised 3 times a week and never complained about chest pain or shortness of breath.
Nothing prepared us for his demise, and we were caught unready. The mental anguish was one thing, but neither Mom nor I knew anything about the family's financial situation. We were fortunate that Dad was very organized and kept everything in files on our home computer. I checked the appropriate folders and had a sigh of relief: Dad had generous life insurance, ample savings, and 1.5 million dollars in a Vanguard portfolio.
There was one caveat: Mom didn't know how to use a computer.
My mother was a homemaker who was happy with her simple life - Being married to a dominant male who took care of her physically, emotionally, and financially. During the day, she cleaned, cooked, did laundry, and watched silly sitcoms on TV.
When Dad was gone, she was helpless. As a 22 year old senior in college, I was a savvy computer user and dedicated time to teaching her basic computer use. I taught her how to use an e-mail and arranged shortcuts to sites that would be relevant to her, like billing sites, CNN, Amazon, Google, etc.
Mom slowly caught up. She asked me timidly what sites my friends and I were watching. I showed her how to access social media like Facebook, sports channels, and even Literotica. She blushed but said nothing.
After the 7 days mourning, I continued going everyday to my classes, and each weekend, I inquired Mom if the computer was helpful. In the first 2 weeks, she hardly used it except twice googling for the meaning of words she heard on TV but didn't know what they meant.
On the third weekend, rather than asking her about it, I checked the history file. Mom used the computer to read CNN, check the latest underwear fashion, and even... Literotica. I was surprised, but knowing that without Dad around, her sex life suffered a drought, I probably shouldn't have been. I read the 3 stories she opened. All 3 were in the category of erotic coupling. Was she reading these because she was curious? Did she consider looking for a new mate?
I didn't mention to her I knew about her and Literotica. I spent all my free time with her, waiting for Mom to start being more independent and be less needy of me around.
Two months later, I was sitting with her on the sofa and watching a movie together. I noticed she had on a different perfume. I complimented her on it. She blushed and grinned, "Oh, thank you, Robin. It means a lot to me."
Over the weekend, I checked her history again. She ordered 2 new sets of underwear on Amazon. I looked at her choice, and they looked very sexy. What the hell, Ma?... I also noted that during the week, she opened 10 stories on Literotica. Five were about erotic coupling, two were mature, and three were about incest. I chuckled, 'Mom was becoming very curious about sexuality. It might be a good sign that she is about to be ready for another man in her life.
In the evening, she wore a midi-style dress with 2" heel shoes, put on faint red lipstick and a touch of makeup. I was stunned. She really looked gorgeous. Until that moment, she was simply 'Mom,' but suddenly her appearance radiated beauty... I said, "Mom, you look amazing. Whoever guy catches your eye will be very happy."
"Do you think I look OK? After all, I am 41 years old."
"Mom, Chronological age doesn't mean much, especially these days. Attractive cougars can have relationships with anybody. You are a real MILF!"
She blushed again but did not say anything.
I forgot about it, and the following weekend, I checked the computer history again. Mom looked for the meaning of cougar and MILF. I wondered how she interpreted the context in which I was saying those words...
The same evening, Mom asked if we could go see a movie in a theater. I was happy she wanted to leave the house and agreed. As per her request, I bought online tickets to a romantic comedy. When it was time to leave the house, the woman who exited her room was hardly her: Mom's hair was arranged in a bun. Her short black dress had a nice cleavage and displayed shapely legs. She added a 3" shiny black matching shoes. Mom looked fantastic! I whistled appreciatively and commented, "If you weren't my mother, I'd ask you for a date."
She smiled, "Is that what you meant by calling me a MILF?"
I grinned, "It's only an expression, Mom." She winked at me.
The movie was a simple romantic love story with occasional stupid jokes. Mom sat with her eyes mesmerized by the action on the screen while I got distracted. As Mom focused, her torso leaned forward, and the upper part of her dress separated from her chest. The creamy tops of her tits were clearly visible. It was ridiculous - at home, I saw Mom multiple times walking in her underwear to and from the bathroom and never bothered thinking about it, and now, in the dim lights, I ogled her breasts. I sneaked a peek at her face and realized for the first time she was pretty in her own way. With the proper cosmetics on and wearing this highly revealing dress, Mom was... sexy!
During the movie, I continued staring at her face and the uncovered part of her chest. One time she turned to me, wanting to ask a question, and caught me inspecting her breasts. She giggled and held my hand for the rest of the movie.
Later, at home, something had changed in me. Mom became an erotic figure. I used the rare opportunity when she visited a neighbor and checked her underwear drawers. Most of her bras were old except for 2 new, silky, semi-transparent, pink ones. The panties were the same: Mostly high cut ones with faded colors. However, there were 2 low-cut pink panties that comprised a set with the new bras. Good for her! Next, I explored the laundry basket and sniffed the used panties. The odor was a mixture of musk and sweat. I liked the smell... I returned to my room and tried to concentrate on my studies, but Mom's smell haunted me. I was too distracted. The same night, I had a dream. Mom told me she always loved me more than Dad but couldn't show it. I woke up with a woodie...
In the following days, Mom's attire had changed for the better. She put on summer blouses and shorter skirts. When I returned from school, she constantly had on lipstick and makeup. Was she thinking about going on a date and wished to hear my opinion?
The next weekend, I examined Mom's history. She had read 12 stories on Literotica.
I copied the sites and read the stories in my room later. To say I was shocked was an underestimation: All the stories were published by Silkstockinglover, and all were about incestual relationships between a mother and her son. I've read stories by this author before and enjoyed them immensely. In fact, the best stories to masturbate on were hers. Her graphic writing was direct, provocative, and blunt.
My initial thought was Mom was just curious. However, dressing in sexier clothes at home and a few episodes where she touched me for a longer time than needed crossed my mind. I decided to give it another week and see where it was going.
On Tuesday, Mom and I sat again to watch TV for a movie of her choice. She brought popcorn on a tray and put it by my side. She covered us with a thin blanket, and the movie began. Ten minutes into the film, she leaned into me and took a fistful of popcorn. Five minutes later, she repeated it. Each time, her covered breast pressed against my chest. When she did it the third time, My pecker started engorging. Mom did it 2 more times, and by then, my organ was at full mast, lifting the blanket on my groin.
She noticed it and mumbled, "Sorry, I didn't want to disturb you, so I leaned over. Do you want me to stop?"
I smirked, "Not really. I just wonder about the consequences..."
She gave me an innocent look, "Honey, what do you mean?"
"Never mind, Mom."
After that, she stopped crushing her torso against me. She leaned her head on my shoulder, placed her palm on my thigh, and continued watching the movie till the end, leaving me extremely aroused. After the movie, I masturbated in the bathroom, fantasizing about Mom's soft tits.
On Saturday, I looked at Mom's history one more time. There were 10 stories from Silkstockinglover, including Forever Incest: A Mom's Story, She Said, He Said: Mommy's Day, "Incest Submission": Mom & Son, and "Mom and Son': A Love Story. It became apparent Mom was obsessed with mother-son incest stories. I hoped I was not mistaken.
When we went to eat dinner, Mom dressed nicely in a short skirt and a thin, sheer, short-sleeved blouse that showed her bra underneath. I ogled her unabashedly and said, "Mom, you look good to eat."
She grinned, "Thank you. That's nice to know."
We hardly talked during the meal and frequently snuck peeks at each other. When we were done, Mom carried the dirty dishes to the sink and started cleaning them.
I came behind her, hugged her tummy from behind, and whispered, "Mom, you look especially beautiful tonight."
She leaned back on me and murmured, "Honey, I love you so much."
I whispered back, "I love you more."
I could barely hear her, "How much?"
It was time to risk it all. My hands slowly climbed from her abdomen to her lower chest and cupped her breasts. She gasped, "Honey, please..."
I massaged her tits lightly and mumbled, "Mom, you want it too, don't you?"
"But..."
I kissed the side of her neck, and she shivered, "Robin, it's a very sensitive spot."
I continued rubbing the covered twin peaks and said, "I've wanted you for a long time now. ALL of you!"
She murmured, "I know, and I feel the same, but it will be a sin. We shouldn't..."
"We shouldn't is based on silly rules. I believe 2 people who love each other can do whatever they want."
I could hear the engine in her brain working hard, fighting between conventional logic and her desire to go for it. I decided to help her: I kissed her neck again, sucking on it tenderly, and one of my hands descended toward her mound.
She moaned, and her wet palms moved up and hugged my neck, "Darling, I thought about you so many times."
I blurted, "Why didn't you tell me?"
"How could I?!... How can a mother tell her son she craves to feel his body?"
"It doesn't matter now."
I turned her around gently and saw tears in her eyes. I dried them with soft kisses and then kissed her lips. She didn't react, and her eyes watched mine as if to check that I was not playing a trick on her.
I smiled lovingly at her, "Mom, show me your love." Then I kissed her again. This time, her eyes shut, and her lips parted for me. My tongue invaded her sweet mouth and played with hers. She groaned into my mouth, and her body clung to mine. My penis stiffened and pressed against her tummy. She moaned again, and her pelvis began gyrating on my hard member.
"Mom, I want you. Now..."
"Are you sure, honey? If we do it, there is no going back."
"I don't want to go back. I want YOU, and only YOU!"
"Let me go to the bathroom."
She came out blushing, "Robin, honey, let me go first to my bedroom, undress, and turn the lights off. In 10 minutes join me under the covers."
I understood Mom; She was older than 40 and was scared I'd find flaws in her body. It wouldn't have helped if I said it wouldn't matter to me. I let it go, being sure after the first time, everything would be different.
When the 10 minutes were over, I opened her bedroom door. It was darker than dark. The light from behind helped me find the way to her bed. I lifted the blanket and got in. I closed the distance between us and felt her warm, soft, naked body pressing against me.
I kissed Mom and said, "I waited too long to touch your divine body. I dreamt about it and tried to imagine how it would feel the first time I touched you." I kissed her, and my palm caressed her cheek tenderly. Mom leaned her head on my chest and whispered, "I still don't believe we are naked together in bed..."
My hand went south until it touched her C-cup breast. It was soft and very pleasant to the touch. The nipple was hard as a rock. I tweaked it mildly, and Mom groaned. I bent my head, licked her areola, and sucked lightly on her nipple.
I said, "It tastes great. Just imagine you weren't so cheap, and let me have your milk."
She laughed, "I wish. You finished my milk decades ago."
I whined, "I don't believe you. I am thirsty, and you refuse your milk. I'll have to drink your nectar."
She didn't know what I meant and gave me a free hand until she realized my face was descending toward her cunt. She attempted to prevent me from going further, but I continued down, reaching her trimmed bush. The smell of her sex was overpowering. I sniffed it for a few seconds before licking her moist labia.
I mumbled, "Your coochie tastes delicious. I love it!..."
"Please, honey, I'd rather you face me and have sex."
I continued munching on her folds for a couple of minutes, ensuring her clitoris was not touched. Then I knelt between her thighs, touched her vulva with the mushroomed head, and kneaded her mammaries. Her heart rate increased, and her breathing turned shallow. She begged, "Put it inside me, please. I am very aroused."
My horniness clouded my mind, and I blurted, "That's not good enough. If you want me to penetrate your hole, I want to hear what it is you REALLY want me to do. And don't spare the details!"
Mom gasped, "Don't do it. Don't force me to talk dirty."
I whispered menacingly, "You enjoy graphic language in Literotica stories. Now is the time to show me what you learned." Next, I inserted my cock half an inch into her pussy and waited.
"Please, honey, I can't wait any longer."
"Say it!"
She pulled my waist, trying to force my tool inside, but I didn't budge.
She screamed, "I WANT YOU TO FUCK ME! I WISH TO FEEL YOUR COCK RAVAGE MY PUSSY HARD..."
"Good girl. Be ready, my love."
Subsequently, I penetrated slowly into her soaked pussy, eventually reaching her cervix. She whispered, "You are so huge... Please take it easy."
I started with slow strokes and heard Mom's breathing becoming labored. I knew she would climax soon but elected to accelerate gradually. All of a sudden, her body trembled violently, and she started crying. I pounded her cunt more rapidly, and her shaking increased. Her cry turned to a whimper. I rammed my cock more powerfully into her body, and Mom mumbled barely coherent words, "Oh my, I feeel you up to my cheest, it's sooo good..."
I leaned over her, French kissed her, and asked, "Do you want me to stop now?"
"NO! Please. I loove it..."
I shifted to the highest gear and drilled her tunnel like a jackhammer. She screamed her heart out, squirming wildly under me. She was kept in place by my hands that tweaked her breasts, and my cock that impaled her body.
Her involuntary movements and loud noise, in addition to the arousing friction inside her vagina, served as the last straw for me, and I erupted in her pussy with gallons of whitish spunk. After cumming, I continued plowing her hole for a couple of minutes until my member began deflating. I kissed her lips gently, and whispered, "Mom, I love you now even more than before," and rolled on her side.
Mom's vitals returned slowly to normal. She raised her upper torso and glanced at me. I could see her shade but not any details. She kissed me gently and said, "You were very naughty, forcing me to talk dirty. However, sex with you was amazing, and I forgive you."
I chortled, "Does it mean I can always make you talk dirty, and if you enjoy the sex, I'll be forgiven?"
She laughed, "Honey, you are impossible. I do not blame you; I blame the mother who did a lousy job educating you." Then she stood up and rushed to the bathroom.
I put the lights on and lay on my back naked. Mom exited 15 minutes later, naked as well. She smiled shyly, "I hope seeing me like that does not make you change your mind about me."
Watching her voluptuous body in the nude for the first time reawakened my pecker, and I pointed at it, saying, "Mom, I think you have your answer."
She grinned and mumbled, "Thank you. By the way, I was so horny that my head was elsewhere. I haven't used contraceptives and hope I did not get pregnant..."
