Incest/Taboo The Mom Memories: Evan's Story

"I give," she submitted.

"You give'" my laugh was strained but Jim wasn't in a mindset to detect fraud.

"Yes."

"Okay."

I loosened my hold and Mom's skirt fell back in place. Disappointment darkened Jim's creepy face. He looked like he was trying to think of something to continue the 'game' but just then Dad's horn sounded outside.

"You didn't park in my dad's spot, did you?"

"Uh, yeah."

"You better move it quick," I said.

Jim looked torn and desperate, likely driven by the boner evident under his jeans. "Yeah, ok...see ya." He turned and ran to the front door, leaving it open as he raced to his car.

"Yeah, good riddance," I said to his retreating back.

"You can say that again," Mom said

I knew with Dad there I didn't have to follow Jim to protect my beer. I also realized I was still holding Mom, my arms around her with my hands on her stomach, and she was pushing against me even though I was no longer pulling her. The softness of her ass pressed on my jeans and I was suddenly cognizant that she was still faster than normal, recovering from our exertions. I lifted my hands and tightened my hold as I heard Jim yelling to Dad that he'd be out in a jiffy. I looked down to see that Mom's skirt had risen again. Not as far as when I'd lifted her off her feet, but still high enough for me to see lots of leg.

Jim flooded his car. I could here him cranking it over. Dad honked again, impatient with waiting on the street. I could see the front of his car on the street through the open front door and the left rear quarter panel of Jim's car.

I ducked my head and nuzzled Mom's neck.

"Hey, I'm still mad at you, mister," Mom protested.

I kissed the crook of her neck where it curved out to form her shoulder.

"You can't stay mad at your only son, can you?" I asked.

"No, I suppose not," Mom sighed.

I nuzzled her again, brushing my lips along the lenghth of that graceful curve.

"But I have good reason to be mad," Mom made it clear that I wasn't yet out of the doghouse.

I agreed with her but added with a quiet chuckle, "That was quite the show," capping my statement with a kiss in the apex of the curve concomitant with one hand sliding lower over her belly while the other kept her skirt up. Dad's horn honked again and Jim went into another long cranking attempt to start his car.

My lower hand reached panty territory but it was still covered by skirt. I used my upper hand to claw it higher. Seconds later my fingers were lying directly on Mom's panties but I had just achieved that goal when I was startled by the slam of a car door. I froze.

Dad appeared, stomping up the driveway. "Jesus Christ!" He walked up the side of Jim's car and disappeared. I could hear him giving Jim loud instructions through the driver side window. "Let it sit for a minute and then put the gas right on the floor and keep cranking. Murphy, you kids don't know anything these days except speeding around." No wonder he wouldn't let me get a car.

Mom laughed quietly. "Will you listen to him? You'd think he'd never been young."

"Mmmmmm," I agreed, tentatively brushing my fingers over the swell in Mom's panties, hoping she would keep ignoring what I was doing.

"Hey, I said I was still mad at you." Mom words admonished me but her pelvis pressed welcomingly outward, her mound embracing my fingers.

"I know," I whispered, brushing my fingers around more actively, my excitement threatening to boil over because Mom had not only not stopped me but she seem to be actually encouraging my caress.

Jim's car started turning over again and Dad yelled at him over the din, telling him to keep going with the pedal on the floor. I pressed into Mom's soft behind, pushing her firmly into my hand. The car sputtered and Dad yelled again. Jim obeyed, continuing to crank the engine and it sputtered, almost starting. Suddenly, the car roared to life and Dad retreated, stomping down the driveway. Jim's car backed out, the moved forward and out of sight. I pushed my hand lower and fully cupped Mom's panties, urging her against my palm and pressing my erection into her ass, aligning it with her crack.

"Stop it, Evan. I said I was still mad at you. Anyway, your father's coming now."

I just laughed, making a game of it, and whispered into her ear, "No."

Mom returned my laugh but insisted that I stop just as my tongue pushed wetly into her ear. I pulled my upper arm across the bottom of her breasts to keep her in place. A little higher and I was pressing her soft flesh against her chest.

Dad's car door slammed. I let go at once and Mom stepped forward, her skirt falling into place just as Dad appeared, climbing up the single broad step to the door and inside. He spotted us in the kitchen.

"Can you believe that kid?" Dad said to Mom.

"We were watching," Mom replied.

"What a day," Dad sighed. "Do I have time for a drink before dinner?" he asked.

"Sure, honey. I don't know why but I'm a little behind today. Take your time and enjoy your drink. I'll call you when it's ready.

Dad walked over to pour himself a drink and I, and my hardon, slipped out and upstairs.

Part 3. What now?

So now I wasn't sure exactly where I stood with Mom. I was fairly certain that playtime with my friends was over but not for me. But how far I could go, I didn't know. I was glad to be rid of Jim but was sorry to lose Gary's participation, partly because I found it hot that Mom let him touch her and partly because his presence made me braver.

I had more mundane problems to face the following week. I had to walk to school which was uncool to say the least, especially after I had been used to riding there and back in Jim's car. Gary, it seemed, was in the same boat. Jim had dumped him too, probably because he knew we were best friends.

Nothing happened with Mom for the next two weeks. I wondered if I was wrong about where I stood and stressed about it when I wasn't feeling like a geek for having to walk to school. I supposed in her mind she had allowed something to happen that shouldn't have but for a good cause—nipping any fallout from her flirtation with Ben in the bud. But now, it was done and she was putting it into the past.

I was complaining about walking to school the Monday of the third week when Mom offered to drive me to school. Looking a gift horse in the mouth, I pointed out that arriving with my mother wasn't the same thing as cruising around in a friend's ride. Mom offered to drop me off at the mall which was a short distance from the school and I could walk from there. She would also pick me up since it was on her way home from work, at least on the Monday to Wednesday when she worked and the Thursday when she shopped. This worked out perfectly because I could be there by three o clock and Mom got off then.

After school, I was there and Gary tagged along. Mom seemed as happy as always to see Gary and when we got home she told him he should come over to our place in the morning and catch a ride with us. So, Gary and I started riding to and from school with Mom four days a week.

All that week, Gary and I vied to see who could sit in the middle next to Mom. Neither of us sat in the back, which was odd, but Mom never commented on it. Gary usually managed to worm his way into the car first and he always sat closer to Mom than I did, managing to keep his leg pressed against hers all the way home. Once, Mom complained about it.

"Gary, give me some more room."

"I can't Mrs. G," Gary replied, "or I'd be right up against Evan. Guys just don't do that."

"Oh, for crying out loud," Mom said. "Nobody's going to think you're that way just because you're sitting close to each other in a car."

Gary didn't budge and Mom didn't mention it again. After that, I noticed every time he got out of the car at home, he had a hard on. I can't believe Mom didn't notice with him sitting next to her at least three times a week.

It was on the second Thursday that Gary and I arrived at the mall a little late to see Mom walking out to her car in a very breezy summer dress with Ben trailing behind her, watching her legs which were nicely shaped by the half-height sandals she was wearing. I held Gary back and we both watched Ben put the grocery bags in the trunk, then walk around the side to hold the door open for Mom. Both of us saw Mom spy us watching her but, nevertheless, she took her time swinging her legs around, giving Ben a very good look up her skirt. Mom smiled and exchanged a few words with him before backing out and driving off. Ben turned and walked back to the store after Mom was about fifty feet away. A minute later, Mom pulled up in front of us and waited for us to get in.

Gary hadn't said anything to me but I could tell he was excited by what we'd seen. He was particularly eager to get into the car. Mom didn't say anything about the episode, not even explaining why she had driven away despite seeing us waiting. I prompted her when she pulled out of the parking lot onto the street.

"I see you picked up some groceries."

"Yes," Mom replied.

"And that was Ben helping you?"

"Yes. He's a very nice man, and quite helpful."

"Yeah. He seems to be a nice guy," I said.

Mom flashed me a quick smile, then returned her attention to the road. "I'm glad you think so."

At the next light, I leaned over to turn the radio on and adjusted it to my favorite station. While I was doing that, Gary moved his hand from his lap and placed it on Mom's thigh. Mom didn't glance down or even flinch. It was as if it wasn't there. I leaned back slowly into the seat but my attention was on Gary's hand. It didn't move. He just kept it on Mom's leg. The light turned green and Mom drove away. Still, she paid no heed to Gary's hand. We drove along for about four blocks in silence, turned and drove another three blocks. Mom missed the turn for our road.

"Damn," she said. "Where is my head? We'll have to go down to Fir street and turn around, or go down to the other end of Evergreen and come back all the way around the crescent."

That's what Mom did. She didn't hurry and Gary got to keep his hand on Mom's leg for seven minutes longer than he would have. Gary moved his hand back to his own leg as Mom turned into our driveway. When we got out Mom asked us to bring the groceries in for her and opened the trunk before walking into the house. She was waiting as we carried a bag each into the kitchen.

"Just put them on the counter," she said, an odd smile on her face.

I put my bag down and turned to see Gary lift his onto the counter. I could see what Mom was smiling about. Gary was still wearing his sweatpants from gym class and his erection was blatantly obvious. By the color of his face, he knew. Gary turned away from Mom after depositing his bag and walked out of the kitchen. Mom, perhaps mischievously, called him back.

"Gary?"

Gary stopped but only turned slightly toward Mom, still facing mostly away to hide his excitement. "Yes, Mrs. G?"

"Would you like to join us for dinner?"

"Tonight?" the panic was evident in Gary's voice.

"No, on Saturday," Mom clarified.

"Oh, oh sure. That would be great, Mrs. G. G. Well, I'd better get home," Gary said, and ran out of the house.

Mom laughed out loud. "I wonder what got into him?"

I shook my head.

"Would you like a ride tomorrow? I'm going to be out and about so I can take you and pick you up at the usual times if you'd like."

"Yeah, that would be awesome Mom. Thanks."

"No problemo," Mom said. "Ok, get out of my hair while I make dinner. Oh, you'd better give Gary a call and let him know since he didn't stay around long enough to hear."
​

* * *​

The next morning, Gary sat in the middle again but he didn't put his hand on Mom's leg. I don't know if it was because he was spooked from the day before or if he just thought it wasn't an appropriate thing to do in the morning.

After school, Gary was nervous and he didn't fight me for the middle position. I wanted to see what would happen, so I held the door open and waited for him to get in. I would have been too chicken to do anything myself anyway. When I got in, Gary was staring straight ahead and Mom had that odd, faint smile on her face. As soon as I shut the door, Mom pulled away but she didn't follow our normal route, instead deviating a couple of blocks away.

"Do you mind boys? There's a house for sale that I'd like to take a look at."

Gary and I both professed not to care, not being in any hurry to get home. Gary must have found his courage because, as we drove slowly down the shaded street, his hand found its way onto Mom's leg. His eyes were held rigidly on the road ahead. Mine were on Mom's leg and his hand, and Mom's were casting from side to side, looking for the house that was for sale.

It took us quite a while to find the house, driving up and down streets and around several blocks. Finally, it was there. Mom stopped at the corner of its yard under a tree in the boulevard hanging over the street. She peered at the house. I followed her gaze but Gary sat looking straight ahead. Mom made several comments about the house, pointing out what she liked and disliked about it.

My attention wandered back to Gary's hand. It moved but Mom's voice didn't waver. My eyes were now riveted on Gary's hand. His fingers seemed to tighten, squeezing Mom's thigh. Still she didn't look down, flinch her eyes, tighten her face, or provide any other indication that she was aware that Gary was fondling her leg. His hand slid forward, toward the center of Mom's lap, pushing down between her legs.

"It's an older house. I wonder if there's a lane behind where we can look at the backyard?" Mom asked. I knew she wasn't expecting an answer, as she hadn't with the rest of her monologue.

We drove to the end of the block, turned right, and found a lane. Gary's hand moved the whole time, not so much rubbing as kneading Mom's thigh. We drove down the lane until the house was on our right. This time, Mom stopped in the middle of the lot and I had to look at the house instead of Gary's hand since Mom's line of sight was directly across the fron of my chest. I doubted that Gary stopped his hand because when the car began to move again, his hand was still squeezing Mom's leg.

Gary's hand moved all the way home, gently rubbing Mom's thigh slightly on the inside, quite high up. He didn't even pull it away when we pulled into our driveway. Mom stopped the car, applied the brake—something she never did—and turned off the motor. None of us moved. Gary's hand was finally still, but it remained on Mom's leg. Mom broke the silence.

"What would you boys like for dinner tomorrow night? I was thinking of making a ham. Is that all right?"

We both nodded. Gary's hand started moving again, but more slowly if that was possible.

"What would you like for dessert?" Mom asked, then, not waiting for an anwser, "How about fresh apple pie, warmed up, with ice cream?"

"Yeah, Mom," I croaked. "That would be great."

"I know it's your favorite, Evan," Mom laughed. "But what about you, Gary? What do you like." Mom turned to look directly at Gary, still ignoring his hand that moving on the inside of her thigh, pushing her dress deep between her legs.

Gary's face was flushed almost pink. Amazingly, he had the gall not to still his hand, replying after a brief pause, "Yeah, that would be great, Mrs. G."

"What would be great?" Mom smiled.

"What Evan said," Gary choked out.

Mom kept smiling. "The pie, the ice cream, or both?"

Gary struggled to find a response and finally came up with just, "Uh, both."

"And do you like it hot," Mom's smile broadened and she searched Gary's face closely, "or at least warmed up?"

"Yeah, hot," Gary managed.

"Good. So do I," Mom replied. With that, she opened her door. When she turned to get out of the car, Gary's hand slid off her leg. Mom walked briskly to the house. It was several minutes before Gary and I moved. We didn't say anything to each other.

Part 4. Back in the saddle again

Saturday was ham day. It was also chore day, and game day for Dad. He watched a game all afternoon while I cut and raked the grass. He then pointed out that the garage needed tidying up, so I got busy doing that. I didn't mind. I needed something to keep my mind occupied. I played the Thursday and Friday rides home from school over and over in my mind. Something was going to happen tonight. I just knew it.

Gary came over for dinner early. He must have had the same sense about the evening as I did. Mom bustled about in the kitchen and Gary and I kept trying to help out. Mom told us to go set the table, more, I think to get us out of the kitchen than anything else. When we finished, she banished us to the living room to watch the end of the game with Dad.

"Dinner will be ready in a few minutes, dear," Mom told Dad. "We should have time to eat before the big game starts."

Dad nodded in acknowledgement but didn't look up from the game. Gary and I were both watching Mom.

"I'm just going to go upstairs and get changed," Mom said to no one in particular. "I've been cooking in these clothes all day."

We sat downstairs but our minds were upstairs in Mom's room, imagining her undressing. When she came downstairs, she was dressed in very similar attire, a summer dress with a modest bodice, no sleeves, and a billowy skirt that covered her legs to just below her knees. She was wearing a flat pair of plain, beige sandals but there was a gold chain around her right ankle. I had never seen Mom wear jewellery on her legs before.

"Come on boys. Come and get it."

Gary and I sprang up and followed Mom into the kitchen where she immediately put us to work carrying bowls out to the dining room table. Dad lingered in the living room and Mom asked me to carve the ham. I was so excited that I almost cut myself.

We finally sat down to eat. Gary and I were on our best behavior, polite to a fault. The game started just as Mom brought dessert to the table. Dad asked if Mom minded if he ate his while watching the game and she said she didn't mind. Dad was already half way up anyway.

Gary and I ate our dessert absent mindedly. Our attention was on Mom, searching for any sign that she was open to flirting and finding none. When we were done, Mom gathered our plates and cutlery into a stack on the table.

"We'll help with the dishes, Mrs. G," Gary eagerly offered but Mom declined. She preferred to do it herself, she said, since it was her good china.

"You boys don't have to watch the game," Mom spoke to me. "I know you're not that interested. Why don't you and Gary go up and play your game. I know you'd rather do that."

Gary and I sauntered upstairs, half expecting to be called back, but we weren't. The evening was turning into a major disappointment. We fired up my computer and logged in to play online. It was almost an hour later that there was a light knock on the door and Mom stepped inside.

"Am I disturbing you?" she asked. We both assured her that she wasn't. Mom was wearing a full length robe and I presumed she had changed into her nightgown in preparation for bed. I supposed she just wasn't quite tired enough yet to go to sleep.

"Do you mind if I watch you play your game for a while?" Mom asked. "Baseball is so boring," she added.

Mom sat on my bed and we continued playing. I wished she would come stand behind me and lean her hip against my shoulder like she had before but Mom stayed on the bed. She stayed there for Gary's turn too. We were both better at the game now and our turns lasted longer. It was during my turn that Mom leaned back, swung her legs up and shifted to the middle of my double bed, and lay down. My turn didn't last at long, and neither did Gary's next turn.

As I started my turn, I looked over at Mom. She was looking back at me with a calm, relaxed smile that was partly covered by a strand of hair that had fallen across her face. She turned onto her back and crooked her arm across her eyes.​