Incest/Taboo The Mom Memories: Evan's Story

I hadn't gone downstairs after Gary left. I stayed in my room until my parents went to bed, then quickly used the bathroom and went to bed, stripping down to my shorts and lying on my back, arms folded over my face. I felt exhausted, emotionally drained. Mom hated me.

I woke with a start. It was pitch black in my room which was odd. The faint glow from the street lights usually filtered in my window. I turned toward the window but it was black. Had I closed the blinds? I didn't remember doing so but I must have.

I froze. What was that? A rustling sound. A mouse? No way. My snake? No, it died years ago. Could it have had babies? Had one been living in my room all this time? Ridiculous.

There it was again. Movement. I couldn't hear anything but I was sure something had moved. I strained to hear.

Shit. My shorts were down. I could feel them stretching across my thighs. I was hard, really hard, sticking straight up, as if trying to touch the ceiling. Had I been dreaming? Could I have pulled my shorts down while I was asleep? Weird. Was I so hard because I was scared? Why was I scared?

I almost jumped out of my skin but I only flinched and I didn't cry out. The barest touch, a gentle tickle on the underside of my shaft, just below my tip. My imagination had gone wild.

There it was again. The slightest brush and then gone. My mind almost didn't believe it but my cock was certain of the touch, waggling desperately, willing itself toward my feet, trying to regain that intriguing sensation.

Oh, god. On my tip, on the top. Fuck, that felt good. I couldn't move. My hands were stiff at my side. I didn't want to move. I didn't want to do anything that would make this dream stop.

Ohhh, that soft caress again, sooner this time, longer, grazing down the slope of my helmet, so soft, so fucking feminine. Please, more, more.

On the underside again, then again. On top. Oh christ. Stop teasing me. No don't stop. Keep doing it, it's so awesome. Another brief touch, then again, staying circling, around and around. Don't leave, don't leave. Staying, falling, tracing a faint line, over the ridge and down, down, to the bottom, then around and up the underside of my throbbing meat. Then emptiness. Please, don't stop. Touch me.

The touch, the circle, down and around and back. Lovely, lovely. I love you.

"Mom?" I whispered. I couldn't help it but immediately I was afraid, afraid she would go again.

"Did you think I would like that, Evan?"

"Like what?" I cried.

Two fingers traced a feathery-light path down my cock, one on bottom, one on top. They circled around to join at my root and pulled up, closing in a tight ring around the ridge at the bottom of my helmet.

"Feeling me up near your father?"

Down the ring pulled, stretching my skin tight, delivering excrutiatingly divine pleasure.

"No. I'm sorry, Mom. I'm sorry. I didn't. I won't do it again."

"You won't do it again," Mom whispered, her fingers jacking moving up again, then reversing, jacking down my extremely sensitive cock, her breath blowing across my tip.

"No. I won't. I promise."

Mom jacked my cock half a dozen strokes, each time blowing her breath across my tip. Memories of old punishments flashed through my mind. Mom always followed her punishments up with promises of rewards for better behavior. Relief flooded through me. In a way, this was eerily familiar. I was to be forgiven.

"You shouldn't make a promise like that," Mom whispered.

"Why?" I cried, trying not to come in case it made her mad, doubt returning.

Mom's circled fingers pulled down to my base and stayed there, stretching the skin tightly on my shaft.

"Because I liked it," her throaty voice purred.

A tongue flicked out, damply stabbing my tip, then again, and again. It curled moistly around my cock, licking my knob, making it wet.

"Ohhhhh, god," I groaned. "Please, please Mom," I begged for release, knowing it was coming anyway, that nothing could stop it.

"You shouldn't want to fuck me, Evan. I'm your mother. That's so bad. You shouldn't think about it, fucking me, picturing it in your mind, seeing yourself inside me."

As the image Mom conjured up flooded into my brain, Mom's mouth enveloped my cock. She held me loosely in her mouth, hovering over me, surrounding the tip with her swirling tongue, her hand shaking my shaft, rattling my knob off her teeth. That was it. I was surging, rushing upward, a volcano wave about to erupt.

"Fuck," I yelled, thrusting off the bed, feeling my cock sink deep into Mom's mouth, her elbow digging painfully into my belly, pushing me back.

"Unnnnggghhhhh," I groaned my hot, molten lava pouring into Mom's mouth.

I tried to grab Mom's head, to hold her on me, but she pushed my hands away. Thankfully, she didn't move away. Her mouth kept sucking, milking my failing cock, sucking and sucking. My hands flopped to my side and I lay there, gasping for breath, pelvis jerking spasmodically, filling Mom's mouth less and less as my balls emptied and my dick softened.

Suddenly, I was bare. The air was cold on my limp, wet cock. Where was she? The door opened and closed. Mom was gone.

Part Six. I'm in charge, I think

Sunday, Mom was like a fifties TV Mom. She made a big, old fashioned breakfast: scrambled eggs and toast with hashbrowns and bacon, large glasses of freshly squeezed orange juice and coffee for her and Dad. In the afternoon, Mom gardened while I cut and raked the lawn. Dad worked in his shop, fussing with his boat, and we all sat together for a mid-afternoon break sipping ice cold lemonade. Dinner was traditional roast beef with roast potatoes, mashed carrots and turnips, and gravy. Pie and ice cream for dessert.

I was keen to stay in the kitchen to make advances on Mom, perhaps fondle her near Dad in the hopes of being rewarded with another late night visit but I was firmly rebuffed. I was now totally confused. I went to bed frustrated, lying awake for hours until finally, sometime in the early hours of the morning, I fell asleep. I didn't wake up until Mom called me. She wasn't whispering this time. She was standing in my open door.

"Get up. You're late."

I struggled out of bed and down the hall to the bathroom. I was still half asleep and very tired. How many hours had I slept? Two? Three? I didn't get half my breakfast eaten before Mom called me to get in the car, reminding me that she couldn't be late for work.

Gary wasn't outside waiting by the car. Why would he be? He must still be freaking out. He had no idea what had happened after he had left me sulking in my bed. I clambered in the car but sat by the door. I had no excuse to be sitting beside Mom. As we drove down the street, I looked longingly at my mother, so bright and attractive in her loose summer skirt and cross-over blouse similar to the one she'd worn on Saturday. She looked gorgeous.

"Stop gawking at me, Evan. It looks weird."

I looked away and noticed Mom was driving away from school.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"Gary must be late. You do want to get your friend, don't you?" Mom turned and smiled sweetly at me.

"Uh, yeah."

We turned to the right down Gary's street. He was halfway down, walking toward us. Mom pulled up and stopped beside him. Gary looked nervous. I opened the window and told him to get in, happily shifting closer to Mom.

"Let little Gary into the middle, you big hulk," Mom said, pushing my shoulder.

Begrudgingly, I slid over and got out of the car. "Get in," I grumbled, grabbing Gary and shoving him toward the car.

Gary swung inside and stuffed his bag on the floor between his knees. As soon as I got in, the car started moving. I closed the door and put my seatbelt on. Gary had forgotten about his and I didn't bother to remind him. He was staring straight ahead, avoiding both of us even as Mom pulled into a driveway and backed out, turning the car around and driving slowly back the way we had come despite our late departure and detour. Gary was clearly uncomfortable, not knowing what to expect.

Mom pulled up to the stop sign at the end of Gary's street. She didn't proceed after slowing down to check the traffic like she normally would. Instead, she came to a dead stop. After a few seconds, I looked at her, my eyes questioning. Gary looked partly my way, then partly toward Mom but still mostly ahead.

Mom's hand fell casually to her right thigh and began slowly gathering her skirt. My eyes were riveted on her legs and Gary's head turned toward her in a series of small jerks. Mom's hand, full of skirt, pulled back to her hip, baring her right leg completely, with the skirt angled toward the door but still showing most of her left leg. Gary's hand reached reached slowly out, hovered tentatively over Mom's leg, then dropped lightly onto the top of her thigh.

"Ask Evan," Mom said.

"What?" Gary croaked.

"You have to ask Evan for his permission," Mom stated calmly, deliberately.

Gary paused, as if not comprehending, then turned his head haltingly toward me.

"Can I, Evan?"

I nodded but before Gary could move, Mom spoke again. "I didn't hear you, Evan."

"Yes," I said, my voice as hoarse as Gary's. "Go ahead."

Gary's hand slipped between Mom's legs. The car moved ahead, we turned the corner and gained speed down the street. Gary stroked Mom's thigh all the way to school. That's right. Mom didn't drop us off at the mall, she drove right up to the front of the school. It was a good thing we were late. Nobody was there and Gary still had his hand between Mom's legs. Mom stopped, put the car in park. and twisted to face us. She spoke directly to me, ignoring Gary.

"Do you want to let him put his hand all the way up?" she asked. "Do you want to give him something to think about all day?" Mom smiled sweetly as if she had just asked if we wanted a ride home. Then she made herself clear, "Do you want to let him touch me there?"

I nodded.

"Speak up, Evan."

"Yes, let him touch you...there."

Gary turned his arm and pushed his hand farther up Mom's dress. His breath was coming in small gasps. Another car pulled past and parked in front of us. Two kids got out and started running for the front doors. I could see the woman looking at us in the mirror.

"That's enough," I told Gary.

Gary didn't listen. I don't think he heard me; he was in another world.

Mom put her hand on Gary's arm and pushed it away.

"Gary, you have to stop when Evan says," she said firmly.

I got out of the car and waited for Gary. I leaned down to say goodbye when he got out. Mom blew me a kiss. "Pick you up at the mall?" she asked.

"Yeah," I replied, and closed the door.

We didn't get a chance to talk until we were walking to the mall together. Gary couldn't figure out what was going on.

"What happened after I left? How did you fix things? I mean, she hit you man."

"Nothing happened," I lied. I wasn't about to tell anyone about what had transpired between Mom and I. That was a special memory just for us as far as I was concerned. "I'm as shocked as you are."

"What's with this whole permission thing?"

"I don't know. Maybe she gets off on it. Maybe she's just fucking with us."

"It's weird," Gary observed.

"I know, but it's her game," I concluded, "and if we want to play, it's going to be by her rules."

"That's ok by me," Gary said with enthusiasm.

"You haven't said anything to anybody, have you?"

"Come on, man. Don't be an asshole. I'm not Jim."

"I know. Sorry."

"I'll never say a word to anyone. Ever."

Gary was emphatic, holding his hand out for me to grab. We did a little handshake thing and started hoofing it to the mall. Neither of wanted to keep Mom waiting.

Gary had to ask me if he could sit in the middle. Mom didn't pull her skirt up but didn't object when Gary did because he asked me first, quickly getting into Mom's game. He caressed Mom's inner thigh for a minute or so before asking me if he could go higher. I granted my permission, leaning forward to watch.

"You forgot to say please," Mom stopped his progress, closing her legs tight.

"Please," Gary whispered.

"Not to me. To Evan."

Gary's head swiveled around to me. "Please, Evan. Can I?"

"All right," I said and Mom's legs parted.

Gary jerked around. His hand had already twisted about to cup Mom's panties by the time he was facing her.

"Gently," I commanded.

"Yes sir," Gary acknowledged.

Mom drove the long way home, taking the route past that house and down the back lane where she had jacked me off in front of Gary. Mom stopped the car but left it in gear, holding her foot on the brake. Gary's hand became more active. Gary was panting loudly and I wasn't much quieter. Mom was the calmest of the three of us. A minute later, she moved her foot from the brake and we drove slowly down the lane and back onto the street.

I saw that Dad's car was in the driveway when we turned onto our street. Gary started to pull his hand away as we approached our driveway.

"Leave it there," I commanded.

Gary turned to look at me but did as he was told. He didn't even look at Mom for confirmation. Mom looked my way, concern showing on her face, but she turned into the driveway and pulled up beside Dad's car. Mom turned the car off and pushed the brake down. Dad wasn't anywhere in sight but the garage door was open.

"Keep touching her panties," I instructed my friend.

Gary did as I said, but with less enthusiasm. He looked very nervous. After a minute, his fear hadn't subsided but a new excitement began to overtake it. Mom seemed to be experiencing the same emotions. Strange as it must seem for us to be still sitting in the car, I allowed it to continue. I could detect the faint odor of my mother's excitement now that we weren't moving and the wind wasn't blowing by my open window. I gathered that Gary and Mom's ramped up excitement was triggered by Mom's panties getting wet.

"Use your finger," I told my proxy, firmly, in control.

Mom's knees moved further apart, anticipating Gary's need for more room. I couldn't see directly but the angle of Gary's hand and its movment told me he was trying to move Mom's panties aside so his finger could gain access to her bare pussy. I knew he had succeeded when Mom suddenly sucked in her breath. That's when I saw Dad's head out of the corner of my eye, bobbing toward us along the side of the house.

"Stop!" I barked, the urgency in my voice causing Gary to jerk his hand from between Mom's legs. Dad was almost to the car when Mom regained her senses and pushed her skirt down her legs, reaching for the door handle and opening the door.

"Something wrong with the car?" Dad asked. "I heard you pull in a few minutes ago."

"No, no. It's fine. We were just talking about the new computer game the boys are playing. I saw it the other night. It really is quite exciting." Mom was breathing excitedly, perhaps hoping that Dad thought that was why. "You should come up and watch them play," she suggested.

"Computer games," Dad cried disdainfully. "Is that what they've been up to? I thought they were studying up there. What a waste of time."

"They were, in a way, honey. It helps with their computer classes and I told Evan he can't play on school nights," Mom assured my father. "Just Friday and Saturday."

"Still a waste of time. He should be studying."

"The boys have to have some time to play around," Mom said. "And they're always looking for new things to do. You remember what it was like when you were their age."

Dad nodded, "I suppose so," he begrudged. "But that computer was supposed to be for school, not for horsing around."

I doubted Dad ever had fun, even when he was my age. And certainly not the kind of fun I was enjoying.

"I'll keep their playtime under control," Mom said. "Do they have your permission to play, if I keep a watch on them? They won't disturb you if they're upstairs," Mom added.

"And Wednesday night, Mom. We have computer class Thursday morning and the teacher always asks what we've been doing on the computer," I lied.

"What are your grades like?" Dad growled.

"He's the top of the class, Mr. G," burst out, lying his face off too.

"He needs a little reward, honey" Mom interjected quietly. "He's earned it."

"All right, but only on Wednesdays and only if your mother keeps an eye on you, and you'd better stay at the top of your class." Dad turned and huffed away.

Mom followed him and I followed her. Gary started to follow me but I turned and said, "Go home."

I was getting used to being in command. I liked it.
​

* * *​

Dad was exiting the kitchen with a bottle of beer in his hand when I entered the house. Mom had just passed him.

"Dinner won't be long, dear. Why don't you watch the news."

I dropped my bag by the bottom of the stairs, watched Dad manipulate the remote to the news, then edged quietly into the kitchen. Mom was getting things out of the cupboard. She bent down and fetched a large pot from the bottom drawer of the stove and filled it with water before putting it on a burner. She opened the fridge and removed a bag of frozen peas. The light skirt, unlike the heavier pleated one she'd worn on the weekend, outlined her buttocks and hinted at the separation between her cheeks. As she closed the freezer door, I grasped her by the hips, slid my hands into her waist, and nuzzled her neck.

"Evan, you better go upstairs and let your father know you're doing your homework."

I nibbled Mom's neck, moving my lips up and down the side of her neck, pulling her waist back, and pressing my jeans into the softness of her buttocks.

"Evan, your father's in the living room."

"I know," I grazed her neck with my teeth and ground my cock into her, pushing her against the fridge.

"Do I have to slap you?" Mom asked. Her voice was threatening but her ass wasn't.

"Maybe," I mumbled into her neck.

"I'm warning you," Mom threatened me again. Then her voice softened. "Evan, do as I say now."

"Ok," I reluctantly agreed, leaning back. I looked down at Mom's ass. "You look awesome."

"I'm sure that's very flattering," Mom said.

"But you have to do something I say, too."

"Like what?"

"Like taking your panties off."

"Evan!"

"I'll put them in the laundry for you," I said.

Already I was sliding my hands up Mom's legs, underneath her skirt. Mom's hands reached back but it was too late to stop me. My hands had already latched onto her panties on each hip and were dragging them down. I kneeled behind her and pulled them past her knees. Mom lifted her foot to help me get them off but I got the leg tangled in her sandal. The TV went to a commercial and I jerked my eyes toward the kitchen doorway, panicking, struggling to get the panties off Mom's foot. I finally succeeded and Mom lifted her foot to remove the panties from her other foot. I stood and she handed them to me. She kept looking at the fridge door and didn't look at me. I pocketed her damp panties and left. I didn't put them in the laundry; I put them in my drawer.

After that, I watched Mom studiously whenever Dad wasn't looking. Did he know she wasn't wearing any panties? Could he tell? I could. The back of her skirt clung to her buttocks. How could he not notice that great ass?

After dinner, Dad got up from the table and walked around from the head of the table toward the living room. I got up and stood behind Mom, pulling her chair out for her. As she stood and turned out from the table, I slipped my hand onto her back and let it slide down over her skirt. What a thrill to run my hand over her unencumbered cheeks; their looseness under the skirt inflamed my cock. I kept my hand in place even as Dad turned and sat back in his chair, facing perpendicular to us. He easily could have turned our way before I could move my hand but it was behind Mom and she was facing him so I kept moving my hand in a slow oval, rubbing over her cheeks. Dad reached for the remote and I cupped Mom's bottom, my fingers finding the bottom of her crack.​