Incest/Taboo The Mom Memories: Evan's Story

With my mouth right next to her ear, I whispered, "Imagine Gary's face if he could see you right now."

Mom gasped as soon as I said it. Gary had always been Mom's favorite of all my friends. Innocent, baby-faced little Gary was put down at his own home but was always a target for sympathy in mine.

"He's so much more deserving than Jim, isn't he Mom?"

Mom nodded.

I pulled the dress higher and higher, waiting for Mom to protest, to suddenly push it back down her thighs. But she didn't. Her panties peeked out under the hem. A little higher. Now her mound was exposed, a slight crease running down the middle. I stopped. We both stared at her panties, at the prominent bulge and mysterious crease. I couldn't help pressing into Mom from behind, pushing her panties forward. Mom's hands finally grabbed the dress and tried to tug it down but I held it up, keeping her panties exposed. Mom tugged harder.

"Gary should see. I want you to show him."

"No, Evan. I can't do that."

"Yes you can," I hissed. "He's my best friend."

"No Evan." Mom managed to pull her dress down enough to cover her panties.

I let her dress fall but moved my hands on her waist, clinching my fingers to hold her against me. Softening my voice, I whispered, "I really don't think Dad will understand about Ben. Do you?"

There was a long pause.

"No."

I almost couldn't hear her. I kissed Mom's cheek and left.

The next day was Friday. Mom was surprised when I didn't get home until after Dad and then left right after dinner to hang out with the guys. I didn't get home until after midnight. On Saturday, I didn't get up until almost noon. Mom came in from gardening just as I was finishing breakfast.

"What are you up to?" she asked. "Watching the big game with Dad?" referring to the football game that was about to start. Dad was already watching the pre-game show.

"No, we're playing a new online game," I explained after dinner. "Gary's coming over," I said just before the doorbell rang. "That's probably him now."

Gary came in and said hi to Dad and Mom who didn't greet him in the typically warm fashion she usually did. I shrugged in response to his quizzical look and led him up to my room. We were playing for almost an hour before Mom slipped through my door and quietly stood behind our two chairs, cloistered in front of the computer. Gary was playing while I watched, waiting for my turn.

I noted with approval that Mom had changed from her gardening clothes into the Ben dress. I ran my eyes up and down her legs while Mom watched the screen. I almost didn't want to take my turn but rolled my chair in closer as Gary pulled his back to make room. Mom leaned in for a closer look at the screen as I started to play. I was aware that Gary had pushed back farther to make room for her, far enough that he was sitting slightly behind and to one side of Mom, affording a wonderful view of the back of her legs and behind as she leaned in beside me. I was barely managing to stay alive on screen.

Incredibly, I began to do better and got lost in the game again, no doubt helped by Mom's rooting and encouraging moves, her body pressing in and arching against the chair or my side whenever I made a good move or had a close call. I was only dimly aware of how good that must have looked to Gary from his rear vantage point, seeing her legs stretch and buttocks tense up under her dress. Mom draped her hand over my shoulder and leaned down to briefly hug me during a pause in the game. I bathed in her fragrance and the soft press of her breast against my shoulder, feeling empty when it disconnected but relieved when her hip replaced the warmth of contact.

Mom joined in our sounds of triumph as I continued to outmaneuver my opponents, leaning down to kiss me when I survived a second round and letting her breast rest on my shoulder a little longer. I stretched my hand around her hips to hug her to me as she straightened up before quickly withdrawing as the game raged into action again.

I died halfway through that round and Gary moved in to take my place. As he readied himself for the start, Mom dropped her hand onto his shoulder and twirled the hair at the base of his neck, leaning in with him as he engaged the game, her arm now stretching across both shoulders. How wonderful she looked leaning over like that, her buttocks tensed and straining against the dress, jiggling with every slight movement, each cheer for Gary's success. Like mine, Gary's game improved with Mom's support and when he survived the first round he received the same hug and kiss on the cheek as had I, and the complementary press of her breast.

I stood to watch the next round, resting my hand on Mom's waist and pressing her hip toward Gary's shoulder. Again, he triumphed and was rewarded with a hug and kiss, and a longer press of warm breast. Mom's behind pressed back into me when she leaned down to hug Gary and I put my free hand on her waist on Gary's side. I couldn't help holding her back against me, delighting in the warmth and softness of her behind.

When Mom stood to allow Gary room to play, I snuggled close behind her, keeping my hands on her waist as I looked over her shoulder at the screen but pushing them around to hold her belly as we watched, swaying her over to lean against Gary. I was keenly aware that the bottom of her breasts brushed my hands as she moved in response to Gary's wins and close calls on the screen. Gary didn't survive the second round either and it was my turn again.

We played several more rounds like this. Gary followed my lead and stood behind Mom and, judging from the flush of his face, benefited from the same treats that had been awarded to me. When Gary died a few rounds later, he was disappointed to see Mom walk away to sit on the bed just as it was his turn to put his arms around her, and I didn't play nearly as well without her close support. I was aware that Gary was barely watching me. Instead he was looking at Mom as she sat on the bed, looking on from afar. Just as I died, she spoke.

"Whew, I don't know how you guys can take that excitement. It wears me out." Mom swung her legs up onto my bed and laid back onto the pillows, her bent knees allowing her dress to slide down her thighs almost to her hips, baring her legs down to her sandals. Crossing one knee over the other, Mom dangled her foot up and down, trying to slip her sandal off. Succeeding at last, she switched legs and repeated with the other foot. It took a lot longer for this shoe to fall despite the intense scrutiny and wishing of both Gary and I. Not until that shoe fell did I realize that the game had already started and I had been killed early in the round.

I stood and walked over to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Are you alright, Mom?" I asked, concerned. She was laying on her back with her eyes closed.

"Oh sure," she replied. "My legs just got a little tired watching you guys play. I can't believe how tense I got just watching you. These old legs are a little sore from straining so much."

I reached back to run my left hand up the inside of her leg, from her ankle to her knee.

"Oh, that feels good," Mom said.

"Would you like us to massage your legs?" I offered. "It might relax your muscles."

I continued stroking her calf muscle as Mom nodded her head and I jerked my head to send Gary around to the other side of the bed. He sat down and very tentatively began stroking her other leg. When she smiled at his touch, we both shifted our weight to better sitting positions without breaking contact with Mom's legs. Mom's smile stayed on her face but otherwise she didn't react as Gary and I stroked and stroked her legs. We stroked her legs for so long, her smile faded and I thought she had actually fallen asleep.

It was Gary who made the first move above her knee. Mom's smile returned and slowly faded again as we stroked and scratched and tickled all around her thighs, from the muscular and weathered tops and sides to the incredibly soft bottoms and insides. Their warmth grew the higher we ventured and again it was precocious Gary who calmly flipped her dress onto her pelvis so we could see what we were doing on all of her legs.

We could see the bottom of her panties. I could see her mound and the cleft running down the middle much better than I could when I had bared them a few days before. By pressing my fingers in harder on the inside of her thigh before dragging them back, I could make that mound move. I was first to try this but Gary followed suit right away.

We were resting our armpits on Mom's bent knees, each running a hand up and down the inside of a thigh and one on the outside and up the underneath of her legs, stretching our fingers so close to her we were almost touching her panties.

The flush of the upstairs toilet jarred me and I jerked my head in panic toward my bedroom door, relieved beyond comprehension when I saw that Mom had closed my door. I could hear Dad's heavy footsteps as he rushed down the hallway back downstairs, presumably wanting to miss as little as possible of the football game.

I looked back at Mom. Her eyes had fluttered open but only halfway. They closed and my eyes rested on her face. I waited only a minute before I scored another first over Gary. I let my fingers briefly brush Mom's pale yellow panties. Not to be outdone, Gary followed suit when Mom didn't react.

Every nerve in my body was zinging and my muscles were tensed to the breaking point. Again, I brushed up to the base of that fantastic mound, allowing one finger to stretch out to flutter across its front. There was a sharp intake of breath and I almost jerked my hand away when Mom's arm came up but it just bent to let her forearm lie across her eyes. Soon, every stroke Gary and I applied involved a brush or press on Mom's panties which seemed to be getting warmer and slightly damp.

We shifted our weight again so we could hold Mom's legs at a higher and wider angle. Her thighs were now at almost a right angle from her body and held wide over each of our own thighs. Hair strayed out through the resulting gap at the sides of her panties. It was Gary that took the triumph of placing his fingers on Mom's panties and leaving them there, pressing lightly in a tiny circular movement. There was a longer intake of breath, matched only when a minute later I found room for my own fingers above Gary's, sliding their tips up that mysterious groove to make my own little circle around the little bump I found there. Mom's wrist bent and moved around her arm but other than that she was still.

Mesmerized, Gary and I kept applying our tiny finger movements, both scared to make any move that might jeopardize the gains we had made. But Mom didn't seem predisposed to cancel our success. Her breathing was becoming rapid and short and her hips began to move below our fingers, gyrating around and pressing up erratically against our probing, rubbing fingers.

This was the best game either of us had ever played. We glanced at each other, ecstatic and enthralled. Mom's hips were bumping up against us now and we had to press harder just to keep our hands in place. She was making sounds. Sounds I had never heard her make before. It was tremendously exciting. My own breath was becoming short and I realized I had a huge boner that was uncomfortably constrained inside my jeans. I was close to coming and I hadn't even touched myself.

Thrusting. Mom was pushing up off the bed now. There was no pretense. She was shoving herself against our hands. Gary had cupped his hand over her panties and I was rubbing the flat of my fingers against the top of her mound.

"Oh, god, oh god, oh god," Mom gasped as she moaned and dug her heels in to the bed, her hips frantically shoving, her thighs clenching. "Oh, yeah ... yeah ... yeah." One final, long thrust pushing our hands high and she collapsed back to the bed, followed by a long, long sigh.

The two of us sat there with our hands still on Mom's panties and cocks bent painfully in our jeans, not sure about what to do. Should we just get up and leave, go play our game, and maybe let Mom pretend to wake up a few minutes later. That sounded to me like a good idea. I was about to motion that intention to Gary when Mom's eyes opened.

"Pull my dress down, sweeties," she said in a soft, husky voice. There was no embarrassment. It was just a simple request, simply stated.

Awkwardly, and somewhat mortified, we pulled Mom's dress down and straightened her legs. Mom took our hands in hers.

"Did you like that game?" she asked, her eyes now sparkling.

We both nodded dumbly.

"Better than the computer?" her eyes twinkled.

We nodded vigorously in unison.

Mom pulled each of us down in turn for a quick kiss, mouth to mouth. She sat up and swung her legs to the floor, forcing me to back out of her way.

"There won't be any more talk about Ben now, will there?" she whispered just loudly enough for me to hear.

I shook my head.

She turned at the door to smile back at our stunned faces, holding her index finger vertically across her lips in the universal shushing signal. And then she was gone.

Gary and I turned to look at each other, the blank look on both our faces attesting to the shock both of us felt, Gary more so since for him this had come completely out of the blue. Looking down, I noticed a wet spot staining one side of Gary's jeans. His head followed my gaze down and then he looked over to my jeans where I was just noticing a similar stain on my own jeans. We burst out laughing, commemorating this incredible moment which I knew neither of us would ever forget.

Part 2. Losing Jim

"Hey, man. Then I'm gonna take my beer," Jim's tone turned aggressive. He had brought a twofer over and we had stashed it behind a pile of crap in the corner of the garage.

"Come on, man. That was a one-time thing. It just happened. I can't get her to let me do that anytime I want."

Jim, of course, was referring to the skirt-raising incident in our kitchen. He had brought some beer over, as per my suggestion, expecting another show.

"Fine, then I'm taking my beer and you can find your own ride to school. Jim got up and started walking out of my room.

"Wait, wait," I cried.

Jim turned and stood with one hand on his hip in that universal smart-ass stance. He added the common gesture that said, 'Well, show me the goods'.

"I'll give it a try. Let me go downstairs first. Give me five minutes to see if I can get her into a fooling around mood before you come down."

I tried to pass Jim but he blocked my path. "I want to see more than last time. I mean, I brought a twofer dude. You let on that if I brought some beer over you could make it happen again."

"Hey, it's not my fault she freaked out on me after you left last time. I'll do my best, but this is the last time."

I hadn't told Jim about what happened when Gary was over. I couldn't trust him to keep something like that quiet and obviously Gary, as I expected, had kept his mouth shut.

"Ok, okay. I'll leave you the beer but only if I see some panties, and I ain't pickin you up anymore if there aren't anymore shows."

"Whatever," I shoved him aside. "Five minutes, and as soon as her skirt's down, you get the fuck out of my house." I turned in the hallway and leaned back in my bedroom door, "And if you say anything to anyone, I'll beat the crap out of you!"

Mom was in the kitchen getting dinner ready.

"What's up, honey," she said as I came up close behind her, put my hands on her hips and gave her a quick kiss on the side of her neck.

"Nothing, just thought I'd come down and see how my gorgeous Mom is doing?"

"I'm fine. You guys playing that new game?"

"Nope," I nuzzled Mom's neck.

"I'm not coming up there, Evan, if that's what you're after. I more than paid for the Ben thing and I don't want to hear anymore about it. Anyway, Jim isn't Gary."

"I know Mom. I wasn't thinking anything like that. Just..."

"What?"

"A little leg show, like last time. That's all."

"No way. I'm not putting on peep shows for your friend's to get their jollies," Mom voice rose in anger.

"I know, I know. I didn't mean that. It's just that..."

"Just what?" Mom shoulders tightened. I could tell she was mad.

"He brought over some beer."

That did it. Mom whirled around. "You think I'm going to hike my skirt because some pervo friend of yours gave you some beer?"

"No, no way. I told him to forget it, that it was an accident last time, that it just happened."

"Then why did he give you beer?"

"He had the wrong idea, that's all. I straightened him out."

"So, what's the problem."

"He wanted me to try again. He thought if we were goofing around, it might happen again."

"Well, it's not going to."

"Ok, ok. I just said I'd try, if he promised to never say anything to anyone, ever."

Mom's expression changed from anger to apprehension. "You think say something?"

"Not if he gave his word," I said.

"Did he give his word?" Mom was worried.

"Yeah, if he got so see your panties," I blushed, felling bad about lying to her.

Mom's voice softened. "All right, if he gave you his word and you believe him."

"I said I'd beat the crap out of him."

Mom's face softened and she put her hand on the side of my face. "Ok. Go get him, but we'll make it look like a spur of the moment thing. I'm not going to stand here while he thinks I'm putting on a show for a case of beer."

"No, Mom. I told him I'd see if I could get you fooling around and make it happen by accident. I told him to give me five minutes and then come downstairs."

"All right. But this it. Right?"

"Right, Mom."

I heard Jim's footsteps on the stairs. Mom looked out the kitchen doorway and then back at me.

"Get out," she cried and pushed me back hard, Elaine style, laughing as I stumbled back.

Jim appeared in the doorway and leaned against the door jamb.

"You're so full of it," Mom cried, laughing so convincingly I almost believed she was having fun for real.

"I was waiting, man. I have to go in a couple of minutes."

"Oh, sorry, Jim. I was just horsing around with Mom."

"Oh, yeah?" Jim said, straightened up, suddenly more interested.

"He's trying to make me believe that guys your age would think I have a nice butt. Can you believe it?"

Mom half turned around and presented her butt to Jim, raising her nearest hip to accent her right buttock. Even under her skirt, it was sufficient to glue Jim's eyes to Mom's behind.

"Well, Mrs. G, I think your son has something there," Jim replied.

His mouth opened and his tongue actually hung out, the creep. I finally got into the game, grabbing Mom's hips and, while turning her butt directly toward Jim, lifting her skirt up, almost high enough to reveal a glimpse of her panties. I thought I'd get this over with quick and then hustle him out the door and to his car, making sure he didn't stop to take the beer.

But Mom, not knowing what I was up to, ruined my plans by suddenly shoving herself tightly against me, trapping her skirt between us in its raised state and pulling my hands tightly around her waist and crossing them over her stomach.

"Oh no you don't, mister," she yelled, still laughing like this was a big game.

Mom pushed up with her feet. Taking the hint, I lifted her up and spun her around. Jim's eyes were focused intensely on the bottom of Mom's skirt which was very high, only a few inches below her panties.

"Ok, okay," I cried. "I take it back," I laughed, sounding much phonier than Mom.

I slid my hands up, trying to raise Mom's skirt to produce the requisite panty shot. I knew I had succeeded when Jim's goggling eyes nearly popped out of his head. I looked down and saw that Mom's skirt had been pulled almost to the top of her hips. Most of her panties were exposed and, with the way I was holding her, they were stretched across her mound so tight he could see everything. I held Mom and she struggled, putting on quite a show. Jim stared and stared. Gradually, Mom quit fighting and then stopped.​