A Family Christmas

Like thousands of college students Tom was home for the holidays. Unlike most students, his mother had a very special present for him!

This is an entry for the Literotica Winter Holiday Story Contest. Please vote

This story contains oral, anal and vaginal sex between a mother and her son. If ANY of this offends you, move on. This tale is not for you.

As I fumbled for my keys, the cold December wind cut through my woolen pea coat and jeans chilling me. Huddling against the cold, I waved at my buddy as he drove off. When I finally opened the kitchen door, my parents were sitting at the table.

My father's eyes lit up when he saw me. "Merry Christmas, son!" Dad bolted from his chair, strode to where I stood and gave me a big bear hug. "it is good to see you."

"Merry Christmas," I exclaimed, returning his hug. "It's good to be home!"

My mother sat with her back to us, her head down, staring into her coffee cup. I raised an eyebrow and nodded my head toward her.

"She is doing a lot better since the stroke," dad said quietly. "She has regained most of her motor control. However, she DOES have these moments where she drifts off. That and her lack of impulse control seem to be the only longer term effects."

"I should have come home! I could have taken my midterms some other time."

Dad placed his strong hand on my shoulder. "No, you did the right thing. It was a mild stroke. Besides, this is your last year in business college. Your mother and I are looking forward to you taking over and letting us spend some quality time."

I dropped my backpack on the floor, walked up behind mom and grasped her shoulders. I was startled to see her once black hair was liberally streaked with grey. Her hair had grown from her normal pixie cut to just below shoulder length. It was loosely plaited in a long braid that hung over her shoulder just covering her breast.

It was obvious her illness had aged her. She raised her head, turned and looked at me blankly. She blinked and the light of recognition lit up her eyes.

"Tommy," she exclaimed.

She jumped to her feet, ran to me and pressed her rotund body into mine. I stumbled backwards, the kitchen sink saving me from a nasty fall. My arms flew out in a vain attempt to slow mom's charge. They ended up wrapped around her full hips, my hands resting on her behind.

Disturbingly, mom began grinding her crotch against me causing the belt on her robe to come loose. It fell open as she embraced me. She stunned me when she took my face in both her hands and gave me a long tongue filled kiss, her hips rotating against me.

I broke her vice like grip, grabbed her shoulders and pushed her back to arms' length. "Dad! What the fuck just happened?"

Sheepishly, dad grasped mom's waist and gently pulled her away. "Kitty, why don't you go get dressed."

Mom stepped back, neither she or dad tried to close her robe. She was never a small woman. Now, at 50, her large breasts were easily 40DD or so. Her hips probably matched her chest. Her belly pooch was made up of soft rolls of fat. A forest of grey streaked black pubic hair covered her lower abdomen and private parts. Her thick pouty vaginal lips gleamed wetly.

I watched mom turn and move slowly up the stairs, leaning heavily on the bannister.

"I should have better prepared you for this. I have a few minutes before the limousine picks me up. Let me explain."

The lines on dad's face seemed deeper than when I last saw him at Thanksgiving. His shoulders were rounded and his stance was slightly stooped. It was obvious mom's illness took a toll on him also. He stared at the floor a moment, cleared his throat, raised his head and began explaining.

"First, let me apologize for running off like this. However, I missed so much time while your mother was in rehab, it is imperative that I visit customers and shore up the business."

My parents were the founders of a highly successful IT business. They started the business right out of college. Using mom's dynamism and dad's vision, they built it into a Fortune 500 company. They both were clear eyed, hardnosed business people. Mom ran the shop with an iron hand while dad managed the sales force. The plan was for me to take over the reins after graduation. My parents planned a retirement of long delayed travel. Then mom had her stroke.

"Dad, please! I understand! I know you don't want to travel this close to Christmas. I get it! But what's up with mom? She damn near raped me!"

"Your mother is experiencing what the doctors call Cognitive Decline. Stripped of all the two dollar words it means she is experiencing a decline in basic mental functions such as memory and judgment with changes in behavior and personality."

"Bottom line, she tends to be more spontaneous and has issues with short term memory. The memory issues cause her some confusion. The part of her brain that controls behavior has not, and may not, recover from the stroke. What just happened is part of that spontaneity."

"Is she like this all of the time or are there triggers that cause her... odd...behavior?"

"The doctors say certain stimuli, liking seeing you after she had not seen you since Thanksgiving, will cause her to go off the rails. Also she experiences a kind of déjà vu where she acts out past memories. What just happened was that she overreacted emotionally and physically to seeing you. The behavioral filters that should control her behavior work, at best, intermittently. Alcohol is also a trigger. She has meds that help. However, time is the real healer. "

"What do I need to do while you are gone?"

"Keep an eye on her. In some ways, she is like an immature child. She does and says things without the filters that an adult has. Also, keep her calm. She tends to go off the rails when she gets excited, throwing tantrums and such."

"Her medication with dosing instructions are on the nightstand. Tom, usually I have a nurse/companion with her. She took a few days off to shop for the holidays. However, I'll be home in three days."

The chimes of the front doorbell announced the arrival of the limousine. Dad grabbed his wheeled bag and his briefcase. "Look son! I know this will be difficult for you..."

"Dad stop! I love her as much as you do! I'll take care of her!"

We bear hugged and he left.

I took off my coat and hung it on the back of the kitchen chair. I needed a drink. Dad's explanation of my mother's illness was as disturbing as her demeanor. She was never a demonstrative. I knew she and dad loved me. However, the business was there life.

I walked down to the media room to the bar. The long drive from school coupled with the shock of seeing my mother's condition left me tense. A stiff shot of my favorite Irish whiskey would bolster me. When I picked up the bottle, I saw a small tube of Astroglide hidden behind the bottle.

I grinned as I poured three fingers of Irish whiskey and gulped it down. I shuddered and grimaced as the potent liquor warmed my insides.

The Astroglide confirmed something I suspected. During summer break, while working in the family business, I noticed my parents seemed to be standoffish. They were overly polite with each other.

I also noticed I did not hear the faint sounds of lovemaking I grew up hearing. Mom's yip and moans were absent when I came home for Thanksgiving. I suspected a decline in their sex life.

I knew dad had high blood pressure and took medication to control it. Bits and pieces of overheard conversation suggested it caused some sexual frustration for both. The lubricant suggested they were working through it.

I poured another three fingers and gulped it down. The alcohol helped knocked down the chill and calm me. The warm glow of a nice buzz settled over me. I needed a shower and a nap. I decided to check on mom before I did anything else.

Our home is a trilevel. The kitchen, living room and dining room are on the second level. Downstairs is the media room with the patio just outside. Upstairs are the bedrooms.

I climbed the stairs passing first my room and the hall bathroom. Beyond that was the converted bedroom that was my parents' home office. At the end of the hall was my parents' bedroom. Their door was partially open. I tapped lightly on the door.

"Mom, are you decent?"

"Yes, darling! Come in!"

My eyes bucked as I opened the door. Mom lay naked on their California king size bed propped up by pillows behind her back. Her feet with their bright red nail polish were flat on the bed. Her legs were pulled up and her knees spread. Her large breasts filled her chest.

The fingers of one hand tugged at her nipple. The index finger of the other hand was just inside the folds of her pussy, sliding slowly up and down. A faint gleam of wetness covered her butterfly vaginal lips.

"Whoops! Sorry mom!" Embarrassed and, yes, a little aroused, I turned to leave.

Most boys fantasize about their mother's. I was no different. Seeing her naked brought back memories of glimpses of her in various stages of undress.

"Wait Tommy!" Mom pulled her finger from her pussy. She held it up and seemed to inspect it. Then she popped it in her mouth and sucked it clean.

My eyes widened and my cock grew rigid. It seemed mom's spontaneity had a strong sexual element. First there was the French kiss in the kitchen. Now she was playing with her pussy with little regard for my presence. It was going to be a difficult time until dad returned.

"John said you were going to take care of me while he is away," she said in an uncharacteristic low seductive voice.

I swallowed hard. Dad had not warned me about this. He said she was more spontaneous. She seemed more...wanton, more sexual. It was a side of her I had not seen.

"Yes, mom, your nurse is off a few days."

She sat up in bed and crossed her legs Indian style. The butterfly lips of her vagina gaped open, wet and swollen. I thought I could see a bead of moisture at the lower crease of her vagina. I swallowed hard.

"I haven't shaved pussy since I got sick. John was going to do it, but he got busy preparing for his business trip. You're going to have to do it."

"What? Mom, I can't..."

She pouted. The color began to rise in her face. I recalled my father's admonition to keep her calm.

"Uh...ah...just a moment, mom! I'll be right back."

I needed to talk to my father. My cell phone was in the kitchen in my jacket. I sprinted down the stairs, grabbed my jacket and fumbled in the pocket for my phone. I speed dialed dad's phone. The first time it went to voicemail. Impatiently, I waited a moment then hit redial.

"Hello, Tom. Is something wrong? I can't talk long. I'm in the security line."

"Dad! Look! Mom is acting...odd. Let me tell you what she just..."

"Tom, I have to turn off my phone for security. I'll try to call you before I board but I'm running late. Whatever it is, if it's not harmful, indulge her! I trust you to make the right decision! Got to go!" He clicked off.

As I stared at my phone, mom walked up behind me and wrapped her arms around my waist.

"Come on, Tommy! John said you were going to take care of me."

I sat my phone on the table, pulled mom's arms loose, and turned to face her. She was still nude. Her blue veined breasts were pendulous. Her nipples, about a third of the way up the bottom curve of her breasts, were thumb sized and hard. Given their size they were not that bad. Their mature sag had not turned into torpedoes with the nipples pointed at the floor.

Though rotund at 5' 4" and maybe 50 pounds heavier than she was in my teenage years, she was still my mother, the object of many teenage fantasies. At 200 pounds, there was just more of her.

"Mom, there are somethings I just can't do. Dad will be home in a few days."

I watched in stunned amazement as mom's meaty oval face screwed into a pout. Tears began to run down her cheeks. Her face turned bright red. She clenched her fists and began pumping her arms and jumping up and down, her big breasts bouncing disturbingly.

"John promised me. He promised me you would take care of me. You don't love me." My 50 year old mother, the hardnosed flint eyed businesswoman, was throwing a tantrum.

As I watched the angry red color move up her neck and face, I recalled dad's admonition to keep her calm. I grabbed her shoulders.

"Okay! Okay mom! Just let me call dad, okay?"

I picked up my phone and hit dad's speed dial. He picked up on the second ring.

"Yeah Tom! I'm boarding and I can't talk long."

"Dad," I blurted, "mom wants me to shave her...down there!"

There was a moment of silence.

"Shit! I forgot I promised I would shave her. She likes her...uh...private parts clean shaven. She usually does it herself. However, she still has some motor control issues."

Dad paused. I could hear the announcement to turn off all electronic devices. His voice was strained when he finally spoke. "Look, son," he choked out, "You're going to have to do it. Sometimes, she will throw a tantrum when she doesn't get what she wants. That raises her blood pressure and that's not good. It could trigger another stroke. I can't talk now. Just...just don't let her come to harm."

"Dad! I can't! She's my mother!"

"Look son!" Dad's voice was strained. It quavered as he spoke. "All we have is the three of us. Your mother and I have had 25 good years together. In those years, we built the business and raised a responsible loving son. I want as many more years with her as I can."

Dad paused. I heard the flight attendant ask him to turn off his phone.

"I don't have much time," he said. "For me...for your mother and to keep our family whole...you have to shave her pussy!"

"Dad, I can't..."

"You have to, son," he croaked, his voice cracking.

My phone went dead. I turned to my mother. My eyes took in her body. Here was my mother, the object of my teenage lust, begging me to shave her pussy. My father practically ordered me to do it.

"Come on, mom! Let's go shave you."

She jumped up and down, clapping her hands. "Goody! Come on!" She turned and skipped up the stairs, her large ass jiggling. I was embarrassed that I had a chubby as I watched her climb the stairs. Mentally I tried to separate what I had to do from what I wanted to do. I always wanted to fuck my mother.

In a psyche class, the professor opined that in addition to the natural lust to possess sexually the first and most important female in a young man's life, there was a primitive element. Even in modern times, there was a natural competition between father and son for a wife and mother's affection.

She went on to say that in our primeval history, families were tribal. A youth entering puberty announced his entrance into manhood by challenging the old chief for control of the tribe. If the youth succeeded in his challenge, having sex with his mother, the chief's wife, established his control. The new chief solidified his control by fathering children with her. She went on to say that societal taboos on incest where an instinctive attempt to stop that primitive rite of passage.

That lecture was on my mind as I gathered the things in their en suite bathroom I would need to shave my mother's pussy. I shook my head to clear it. I still had a nice buzz.

When I walked back into the master bedroom mom lay on the bed playing with her pussy again. She inserted first one then two fingers in her vagina and pumped a few times. Then she would take them out and suck them clean. All the time she held my eyes with an unmotherly sultry look. My cock was painfully hard as I watched her lascivious display.

"Your father used to love watching me finger fuck my pussy," she simpered.

"Mom, this is going to be difficult for both of us. Let's just get it over with."

"It's not going to be difficult for me. I'm going to enjoy having my son shave me."

Mom smiled, then ran her tongue over her lips. Her illness was causing her to come on to me. I thought of their overly polite behavior and the lube behind the bar. My parents were having problems in their marriage, sexual problems. Mom's stroke was causing her to act out her sexual frustrations.

I cleared my throat. "Okay mom! I need to put this towel under you to catch the hair."

Smiling benignly, she spread her legs, grabbed each thigh with a hand and pulled her legs high above her head, lifting her ass off the bed. It was surprising to see a woman of her size be so flexible. I shook my head to clear the image of me lying between those big thighs with my cock plunging into that wet hole.

"Like this, Tommy?"

"Yes, mom," I moaned, "like that!"

Struggling to overcome my arousal, I knelt on the end of the bed. As I took the towel and tucked one end under my mom's butt, I stared at her wet succulent pussy.

"Since the stroke, I'm always wet and horny. Your father gets angry with me because I always want him to fuck me. You won't get angry with me, will you?"

I tore my eyes away from staring at my mom's wet hole. I looked up into her smiling face.

"No mom! I'm not going to get angry with you." Realizing I left an open question, I quickly added, "and no, we are NOT going to have sex!"

"You know, I always wanted to fuck you."

"WHAT? Mom! Please! You have to stop talking like this."

"But I did, Tommy!"

As I rocked back on my heels, my cheek brushed the warm moistness of her thigh. The room swam dizzyingly. I drank on an empty stomach and the alcohol was going to my head. My dick pulsed painfully in my too tight jeans. As I dropped to all fours between mom's thighs to recover, my resolve wavered.

My mom just confessed a repressed sexual desire for me. I suspected it was the after effects of her illness. Still it played into the fantasies of my teenage years.

I was incredibly aroused at the thought of the intimate thing I was about to do, the thing she obviously wanted me to do. She wanted more. I had to be the adult. I was horrified at my lust. However, I could not take advantage of my mother. I pushed doing the unthinkable to the back of my mind.

"Are my legs far enough apart, Tommy," she asked, her meaty face framed by her thighs. A clearish liquid leaked from the bottom of her slit and ran down her peritoneum to her anus.

Kneeling between her thighs recovering from my dizzy spell, I could see the dark coral lips of my mother's pussy framed by her moist pubic hair. They gaped open, revealing her pink inner lips. They were wet, glistening, pulsing slightly.

"Yes mom," I croaked. My rigid cock was trapped painfully in my jeans.

It was a surreal moment. I recalled as a kid trying to sneak peeks at her as she entered or left the bathroom. I remembered bursting into their room unannounced, hoping to catch her naked. The few times I caught her nude, she merely smiled at me, cautioning me that I should always knock first. Now she lay naked in front of me, fingering her pussy. I felt my cock jump and knew I had to calm down before I came in my pants. I took a deep breath.

"Okay mom! First I have to trim your hair."

"Alright Tommy! When we finish, can we decorate the tree? Oh! And some egg nog while we do it?"

I had forgotten about that. We usually decorated the tree in the week before Christmas. Egg nog, liberally spiked with brandy for them, was part of that tradition. I usually left them downstairs drinking and went to my room to play video games.

Once, I must have been in my late teens, I could not sleep and went back downstairs for a glass of water. As I drained the glass, I heard the unmistakable sounds of sex. As I crept downstairs I heard moans. When I squatted on the steps, peering into the media room lit only by the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree, I saw my parents fucking.

Dad's back was to me. Mom's legs were wrapped around his back as he pumped rhythmically in and out of mom. From my vantage point, I could see his cock sliding in and out of her leaking hole. A white froth covered mom's hips. I could hear the squishy wet sounds. My hand found my cock youthful cock and stroked as I watched them.