Mom's Prerogative

It developed over time without any particular catalyst, and I'm not complaining at all, I think it is totally hot and I really appreciate how it has kept Mom and I close over the years. It's this closeness that probably solely has kept me living at home. It seems a secret like this has bonded us and it also seems to keep us both sane, not to mention happier, but I'd be crazy I think to leave such a good thing. I don't think Dad has a clue, at least he's never let on, and only sometimes hints -- since I graduated high school -- that I should find a place of my own. Even if I did, I hope Mom and I would still "see" each other occasionally.

Mom was always a hugger and always gave us a peck on the cheek when we'd leave the house. We'd never thought much of it, demonstrative behavior had always seemed natural. I don't think either Mom or I was surprised one night when we'd both been drinking and I went up to hug her, but but the surprise came next when I pushed my lips to hers and forced my tongue into her mouth. We kissed for a brief Moment before she pulled away from me, with a look, not of scorn or disgust, but perhaps an temptation, then she turned and disappeared. I didn't follow her, though I wanted to, it was brief a assignation, then she was in her bedroom with Dad.

I went to bed and laid there as I thought about what'd just happened and the look she gave me before retreating from me to the safety of Dad. I didn't feel apologetic, rather, I was aroused and took matters into my own hand with thoughts of that look she'd given me and, more so, where I wanted to go with her. As I stroked, I could hear the muffled noises coming from her bedroom and as I came, I heard Mom's moans when Dad finished her. When I drifted off to sleep, the only thoughts I had were of the look she had given me before she disappeared.

A few weeks later she had gone out with some friends for dinner and a movie. I'd gotten home just a short time before her. Dad and my brother were already asleep in their respective rooms. I had gone to my room and stripped to my boxers, but I'd come out to the kitchen for some some water and an aspirin as I'd had a few drinks myself. She came into the door just as I stood there drinking from the water bottle. She actually looked pretty hot in her short, red dress and high heels, as she strode across the room taking the water bottle from my hands, capping it, and putting it back into the fridge.

Looking me in my eyes, as if to to say 'How many times have I told you,' unable to help myself, I reached out with one hand behind her head and gathered her face to mine, my mouth open and my tongue parting her lips. This time she was receptive and pressed her ample breasts against me, I could feel her silky dress against my skin and her bare thighs grasping my leg.

My tongue pressed between her lips, probing her mouth, and she kissed me back this time, wrapping her arms around around me then to my chest, but not to push me away. The scent of cocktails were strong on her breath and her dark curly hair held the smell of cigarette smoke. My hands moved down her back and cupped her round ass, pulling at the material of her silky dress, raising it until all I could feel was her smooth panties beneath my palms. The warmth of her skin permeating through the material.

Her hands were on me too, running over my bulging pects, my nipples erect and my cock beginning to swell, pressing through the fly of my boxers.

Our unabated breathing washing us in warmth as our tongues parlayed and our hands grasp at one another. My hand slipping down her ass, finger tips sliding over her panties between her legs, I could feel the wet spot forming, yet she grasp my hand when I tried to slip my fingers beneath the material.

"I think you'll like this better," as she took hold of my cock and led me to the couch in the living room. I reclined on the couch as she slipped my boxers over my hips, lying there naked, with my erect member pointing into the air.

She grasp my cock in one hand and cupped my balls with the other, her fist moving up and down on my shaft as I had done to myself many times before, fantasizing about just such a moment. Her hand slid up and down the length of my shaft, the head becoming slick as precum began to dribble from the tip onto my skin. I watched her hand as the droplets glistened in the light from the kitchen. She lowered her head over me and her pointed tongue protruded from her mouth, tip touching the end of my dick and pulling away my nectar in a long string. Tingles shot through the length of my shaft into my belly as her warm breath bathed my nether regions then I exploded shortly after she took my whole shaft deeply into her mouth. I know I bathed the back of her throat with my cum.

She held my softened package in her hand as she rubbed her face over my thighs, her breath on my skin, my cum dribbling from her lips. I stroked her hair, my heart pounding in my chest, I so wanted to fuck her then, but she would not acquiesce, saying her 'vagina was special and only for Dad, but she'd loved pleasing her son.'

Soon she had slipped safely into her room, the one she shared with Dad. The protection of the inner sanctum where I was not welcome to tread. I rose slowly and slipped into my boxers and went to my room, pleased but disappointed at the same time. It was difficult, to have something you wanted, but unable to have. Perhaps, one time, in the future, perhaps I'll get there.