Mom Had No Idea

I am in college and I barely meet my mother in person.

This summer I decided to give her a treat. She had been sounding quite down when I heard her last. I decided to call her on the phone.

“If you need a break,” I said into the phone, “Why don’t you come down here for the weekend?”

There was silence on the line for a long moment. I could almost hear my mom
considering my proposal and could visualize her biting her lower lip as she
mulled it over.

“Come on, mom,” I urged, “You need a vacation. I’ve got plenty of room and I’ve
got nothing planned for the weekend. Come down here and I promise you won’t have
to do a single ‘mom’ type thing all weekend.”

The sound of her laughter was sweet in my ear. I hadn’t heard her laugh much
lately.

“No ‘mom’ stuff, huh?” She mused.

“Nope. No cooking or cleaning or laundry.” I grinned, “I won’t even call you mom
while you’re here. Just drive down and you can relax all weekend.”

“Mmmm…” I heard her murmur, “That does sound nice, Pookie Bear, but what are
you going to call me if you don’t call me ‘mom?'”

I laughed, “Well, I could call you ‘Snookums’ or ‘Babydoll’ but I was leaning
more towards Julie.”

“You’re such a brat!” She giggled, “But you sure know how to flatter a lady.”

“I tell you what, mom,” I smiled, “You come here and I’ll treat you like
a princess. I’ll take you out for some fun. Dining and dancing and movies. I’ll
rub your feet and your back and just generally pamper you all weekend long.”

“If I do, do you promise you won’t run off and leave me alone if one of your
girlfriends beckons?” She demanded.

I laughed long and loud. “I think you’re confused. The course load I’m carrying
doesn’t leave time for girls.”

“Sure you don’t have time!” She giggled again, “I know better. I remember what
it was like when you were in high school. To paraphrase Mark Twain, we couldn’t
swing a dead cat without bonking a pretty girl in the noggin.”

“No really, mom,” I countered, “I haven’t even dated in months. I just don’t
have time.” I paused a moment and quickly added, “Of course, for you, I’ll make
an exception.”

I heard her draw a sharp breath and exhale slowly, “You’ll take me out on…on a
date, honey?”

Biting off my first instinctive response, I answered, “Well, we don’t have to
call it a date. I’ll just devote myself to you and treat you the way you deserve
to be treated, mom.”

“It sounds nice, darling,” She finally responded, “Let me think about it and
I’ll get back with you….”

“Alright, mom,” I grinned, confident it was already a done deal, “Just let me
know. For right now, I gotta hit the books.”

I could hear the smile in her voice, “Okay, sweetheart, goodnight. I love you.”

“Love you, too, mom, good night, hot stuff.” I whispered as I hung up the phone.

…Mom was on her way. She called me at 6 that evening just before she left
home. The way she drove, I estimated she’d get to my palce between 8 and 9.

I didn’t want her spending her break cleaning. So I
hurriedly gave my one bedroom apartment a thorough cleaning. I had always been
something of a neat freak, but compared to mom, I was a slob.

Running down to a grocery store, I picked up a six-pack of Heineken using my
fake ID and bought an assortment of the kinds of food I knew she enjoyed. Just
after 7:30, I jumped in the shower to take care of the problem that had been
impossible to control ever since her call. The thought of greeting mom with a
raging hard-on was enough to make me grimace. I could guess she would terminate
her visit before it began if she saw me sporting an erection.

An hour later, I was starting to get concerned. The roads were dry, as far as I
knew, and mom was more than cautious behind the wheel, but it was only 100 miles
or so from home to my palce. It shouldn’t have taken more than two hours.

I was standing on my balcony and debating whether I should jump in my car to see
if I could locate her, when her turquoise station wagon turned into my
visitor’s space. My relief was enormous.

Her smile was infectious as she smiled up at me through the open window of the
driver’s side door and I couldn’t help laughing excitedly as I waved to her.

“I’ll be down in a second to get your bags, pretty lady.” I grinned easily,
hoping she didn’t detect my nervousness.

“We have got to get your eyes checked, brat.” She called up to me as she exited
the vehicle and stretched, “Either that or we have to have your meds adjusted.”

I scampered down the flight of stairs in my slippers and met her at the back of
her car. We stared at each other for a brief moment before I swept her into my
arms in an animated bear hug and spun her around.

“My God I missed you, mom!” I exclaimed as we frantically clutched at each
other, “It seems like it’s been an eternity.”

Her laughter rang in my head as she kissed my cheeks and chin repeatedly and
panted, “Take it easy, honey, it hasn’t been that long.”

I drew back and grinned sheepishly down at her. She was blushing furiously. Her
hair was a little tousled and she had a mixed scent of sweat and coffee and
Doublemint gum. She was beautiful and I worshiped her. A light danced in her
eyes that conveyed her own happiness.

–

Setting her bags by the front door, I watched her survey my apartment. The
furnishings would never make Better Homes and Gardens, but they were more than
serviceable for a college freshman. A threadbare couch occupied most of one
wall. A worn Lazy Boy was canted slightly off to the side. In between a stereo
that sat unceremoniously upon three milk crates, a beat up coffee table perched
precariously on three legs and a stack of books.

The other side of the living area was occupied by the only piece of furniture I
had laid out real money for — a roll top desk and an office chair I had picked
up at a yard sale.

Mom didn’t offer an opinion immediately as she wandered through the hovel of an
apartment, though I watched a small smile creep across her face when she
recognized the rodents’ finger paintings.

“I can’t say that this is the most palatial of accommodations I’ve ever seen,”
She intoned dryly as she walked through the small kitchenette that was complete
with Formica table and counter tops, an avocado green refrigerator and a lemon
yellow gas range. The wall paper looked remarkably similar to some of Katie’s
paintings. “But for a young man out on his own for the first time, I suppose
it’ll do.”

“Glad you approve, mom.” I laughed, “I only pay $75 a month and I have my own
washer and dryer so I’m not complaining. A guy’s gotta do what a guy’s gotta do.
In case you hadn’t noticed, my last name isn’t Rockefeller.”

Mom giggled as she walked back into the living area. “No, I guess not. Johnson
is a good name, despite what your Father has done to it, but money doesn’t fall
out of the trees when we shake them.”

I smiled at her and felt myself relaxing. This was mom. My comfort zone. My
happy place. This was the one person whom I treasured most in the whole world. I
loved her. I worshiped her goodness and her simple grace and her gentle good
humor. I absolutely adored her.

“No,” I crinkled my forehead, “But I’m getting by with the scholarship and
work-study and my part-time job. I’m not rolling in the lettuce, but I haven’t
signed up for food stamps yet, either.”

Mom walked over to where I stood in the entry way, such that it was, and slid
her arm around my waist.

“You’ve got magic in you, honey. No matter what, you’re always going to wind up
on your feet.” She said matter-of-factly.

I started to say something but mom interrupted, running a hand over my biceps
appreciatively, “Wow, it looks as though someone has been working out.”

“Every other day, mom. Religiously.” I grinned sheepishly, “It really helps me
unwind.”

Mom leaned back and ran her hands over my chest and shoulders, “Well, it sure
looks like it is working. Now do you suppose a lady can get a shower around
here, I stink like yesterday’s garbage.”

She always had a way of making me laugh. She yelled when I pinched her bottom
and pointed her towards the torture chamber that doubled as a bathroom.

“It’s a little late to go out tonight, pretty lady,” I said, ducking her playful
swat, “Why don’t I cook up something while you get cleaned up and we can listen
to music before bed?”

“Sounds good, Honey,” She responded with a laugh, “But if you keep calling me
that it’s going to go to my head and I’m going to get all flustered.”

“That’s the idea, mom.” I grinned and added, “There are clean towels in the
cabinet over the toilet. I’m thinking either burgers or steaks”

She scooped up one of her bags and smiled tiredly, “A burger sounds nice,
honey. Don’t go to any trouble for little ol’ me.”

“Don’t be silly, mom.” I tried to sound noncommittal, “You’re my guest this
weekend and your wish is my command.”

“Thank you, Jim,” She whispered as she kicked off her shoes and made her way to
the bathroom, “You have no idea how much I think I’ve needed this.”

“I’ll scrub your back if you want.” I suggested half-sincerely and held my
breath and waited for the backlash.

Mom glanced back at me over her shoulder and shook her head in derision, “I’ll
just bet you would, too.”

She had no idea……

After showering, mom dried off and donned my cotton pajamas over a sensible bra
and panties and emerged from the bathroom a new woman. She looked refreshed and
collected.

Among my many talents, I was a very good cook.

I had done something to my burger that made my moms mouth water even as she was
devouring it. I had always had a way with food and had often surprised her with
my expertise. The steaks always seemed to be tenderer and the soups more
savory. I could make a grilled cheese sandwich taste like ambrosia.

She admonished me when I tried to help her with the dishes. “I told you, no
‘mom’ type stuff.”

I waited patiently at the wobbly table and afterward we walked arm and arm into
the living area and settled onto the couch as ‘Fur Elise’ was floating on the
air.

“I missed you, honey.” she whispered softly as she snuggled into my side.

“Mom, you have no idea.”

“Mmmmm…” she breathed heavily, “I think I do…” now what was that supposed to mean?..i let it pass.

“How about a foot massage?” I asked her quietly.

“Mmmmm…” mom murmured, “That would be really nice.”

She pushed up straight on the couch as I slid off the couch and assumed the old
familiar position with her legs draped over my shoulders. She let out a long sigh as my hands began digging into the tired tissues of her feet.

Firmly, deftly, my fingers probed and kneaded her aching feet. I was grateful
that he couldn’t see my pulse quicken or my cock harden as my fingers
vigorously manipulated her toes and the balls of her feet. There is something about the human touch that cannot be duplicated by machine.

One composer transitioned to another and faded into night noise and mom just drifted off to
sleep with my hands still kneading away all the tension that had built up over the years.

I have no idea how long I massaged her feet but after she had fallen off into deep slumber I lifted her effortlessly in my arms and gently laid her out on the bed..
. I whispered “I love you, mom.” as I tucked her in and gave her a not so son-like kiss on her forehead.

“Good Morning, darling.” Mom said as she kissed me awake and my eyes fluttered open and
became aware of the surroundings.

“Mom…” I mumbled sleepily. “What…”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” she said softly, “This isn’t ‘mom’ type stuff. This is
‘I love you’ type stuff.’ This is ‘I’m glad to do this for my baby’ type stuff.”

I continued to stare up at her for a few minutes as I rose from the depths of
slumber and then, finally, pushed myself upright on the edge of the couch
and ravenously dug into the breakfast.

“Why’d you sleep out here, sweetheart?
There was plenty of room in the bed for both of us.” She asked

I shrugged, “I don’t know. I thought about it but I didn’t want to wake you up
and I didn’t want to crawl into bed with you without permission.”

She playfully slapped my shoulder. “Don’t be silly. From now on, just assume that
you always have my permission to sleep with me anytime you want.”
“That sounds great, mom, but isn’t that against the laws of God and man?”
It took a second for her to catch the joke and then she burst into laughter.
“You are such a brat!” she yelled good naturedly, “I see you’re turning out like
every other guy I know — only thinking of one thing.”
Mom tried to look stern but it was evident from the grin on her face that she had liked the banter.

“What’s on the agenda for today?” mom asked as she dug through her suitcase .
I finished the last of the eggs onthe plate, pushed it aside, and patted my
stomach in satisfaction. “That was good, mom, thanks. I thought I’d give you a
tour of the campus this afternoon before we went out tonight. Other than that,
your wish is my command.”

“Are those new?” I asked, gesturing to the pair of lace panties and matching
bra mom had extracted from her bag.

I held the panties out at arm’s length and grinned as I fingered the
light blue fabric. “Uh-huh. Your Aunt Molly bought them for me. Think they’re a
little risqué for me?”

I shook my head vigorously. “God no, mom! I’m just imagining how smoking hot
you’d look in them.”

Blushing, she smiled. “You sure know how to flatter a lady, honey.”

I grinned broadly. “All I have to do is tell the truth. Are you going to model
them for me?”

Mom play acted like I hadn’t seen her in her underwear almost every morning for
years. “Jim!”

I laughed at her reaction. “You can’t blame a guy for trying, mom. Like you
said, I can only think of one thing, and right now I have a sexy woman holding a
pair of silk panties in my living room and my imagination has kicked into
hyper-drive.”

Mom gathered her clothes and as she walked past me towards the bedroom, She quickly
rose up on my tip toes and kissed me on the lips. “Thank you, honey. You do
make me feel nice when you say things like that. You’re full of it, but you do
wonders for my ego.”

A short while later, after cleaning up the breakfast dishes, I announced that I
was going to take a quick shower.

Mom mischievously used the same line on him that he had used on me the
night before. “Do you want me to scrub your back?” I grinned at me over my shoulder and responded, “I’ll just bet you would,
too.”

We spent the remainder of that afternoon playing Scrabble. Mom beat me all three
games, but I didn’t mind. I was just thrilled to have her in my hovel of an
apartment. I was excited just to be able to talk to her face to face. To look
into her eyes. To hear the sweet bell tones of her voice. To know that the
person I worshiped above all others was within touching distance again.

As the sun sank below the western horizon, I poured the tiles into the bag and
we set about getting ready for our ‘date.’

I jumped in the shower and hurriedly cleansed myself as mom ironed her dress.
When I walked out of the bathroom with only a towel knotted around my waist, mom
whistled at me.

“Wow, honey,” She giggled, “It’s a good thing you’re not going out like that.
I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands to myself, let alone keep the competition
off of you.”

I felt myself blush and responded, “As far as I’m concerned, mom, you have no
competition.”

Mom looked at me with a bemused expression as I closed the door to the bedroom.
I felt like a dumb ass. It was one thing to flirt with her and use innuendos —
she actually seemed to enjoy it — but I sounded like a moron.

As I put on the one suit I owned, I hoped I hadn’t gone too far.

Like me, when mom finished showering, she emerged from the bathroom wearing only
a towel wrapped around her upper body. The bottom edge of the towel barely
reached below her butt.

I whistled long and low. “Wow. That’s easily the most exciting thing I’ve ever
seen in this apartment, mom.”

She smiled easily and blushed a little. “You are so full of it, sweetie, but I
sure eat it up. “

She laughed loudly as she retreated to the bedroom.

I listened to the news on the radio while I waited. A female newscaster was
blathering on about a huge drug bust in Florida and an upcoming summit between
the Soviets and the Reagan Administration in Reykjavik, Iceland, but I barely
heard her. All I could think of was mom.

Strangely, I was nervous. I felt a little like I did before my first date. There
were butterflies in my stomach and a lump in my throat. When she came out of the
room, my nervousness only increased.

“God, mom, you look incredible!” I exclaimed.

She was wearing a black silk dress with a plunging neckline that molded itself
to her curves. A pair of pumps, a small black clutch, and a single strand of
pearls completed her ensemble. Her skirt twirled up when she spun around showing
off her smoothly shaved legs.

“Thank you, darling.” She smiled, “I feel…pretty…sexy.” She winked at me and
added, “You look pretty hot yourself. I’m going to be busy keeping the girls off
you tonight.”

I rose from the couch and hoped the condition of my groin didn’t show through my
trousers. “You have absolutely nothing to worry about, mom. You’re so smoking
hot I’m going to be beating the guys off you with a stick.”

She giggled and extended her arms to me. I wrapped her in my arms and hugged her
close. I wondered if she could feel my heart hammering in my chest or the bulge
between my legs. If she did, she didn’t show it. She just molded her softness to
me and held me close. I detected a hint of perfume. I wasn’t sure what kind.

“Mmmmm…” She whispered, raising her mouth to kiss the underside of my chin,
“This feels really nice.”

I grunted an unintelligible response in agreement. It seemed the room was slowly
spinning as we held each other for what seemed an eternity.

Drawing back slightly, I looked down into her eyes and mumbled, “The night isn’t
getting any younger, pretty lady, let’s get this date on the road.”

How suave. What a retard.

A few minutes later we were headed into town proper in my ’72 Dodge Dart
Swinger. It was a piece of crap car, but it had only set me back $300 and mostly
started when I wanted it to. The stereo system was worth more than the car
itself.

Mom slid next to me on the seat and lifted my right arm over her shoulder. “If
I’m to be your date, honey, I want you to treat me like it.”

“Anything you say, mom.” I thrilled.

She recoiled a bit when I dipped my head and kissed her neck while we were
idling at a red light. “This is how I treat my dates, mom.”

She giggled and leaned back against me, “I’m sorry, darling; it just caught me
by surprise, is all.”

We found a parking spot a block away from the theater. Mom waited as I walked
around and opened her door. The south wind had done its job. It was in the low
forties so we discarded our overcoats and stowed them in the trunk. I extended
my hand to her and arm and arm we walked to the movie house. At the kiosk, I
looked at the offerings and, although I’d rather have shoved a red-hot poker in
my eye, for mom’s sake, I bought two tickets for ‘Peggy Sue Got Married’ and we
entered.

We bought a tub of popcorn and a couple of sodas and then found our way to the
darkened theater.

“Where would my lady like to sit? Front, middle, or back?” I asked as we
surveyed the expanse of mostly vacant seats.

A few couples were hunkered down in their seats, and a small group of what
appeared to be pre-teen girls were laughing up near the front.

“Um…the back…I think.” Mom glanced up at me, “But whatever you like, honey.”

“The back it is,” I agreed, “This way, Snookums.”

Mom giggled as I led her to the back row by the hand, “Thank you, Pookie Bear.”

The movie began even before we had settled into the overstuffed seats. Twenty
years later, ‘Peggy Sue’ is my all-time favorite movie, although I’ve never seen
anything more than the opening credits. I have no idea what it is about. I
couldn’t stop staring at mom.

We scrunched down in our seats and mom allowed me to put my arm around her as
she held my other hand in hers. I felt like I was drunk.

“Stop that!” Mom hissed quietly at me, “Stop staring at me like that.”

“I can’t help it, mom. You’re so beautiful.”

“You are such a…brat. But…thanks.” She smiled, “Now watch the movie.”

I snorted derisively, “Do you really think I bring my dates to the movies to
watch movies?”

I could see her blushing. “Then what do you do at the movies?”

“This.” I whispered and dipped my mouth to nuzzle her neck.

“Ohhh…” She gasped quietly, “You’re soooo bad. I’m your mother!”

I noticed she didn’t pull away and brought my lips to her ear. “Not tonight,
. Tonight you are the most special woman in my world…”

“Ughn…I’ll bet you say that to all the girls, Casanova.” She choked, “Are all
your dates always the most…special woman in your world?”

Nibbling lightly on her earlobe, I simply answered, “No.”

Mom’s fingers tightened on mine and leaning into me, she laced the fingers of
her right hand in those of my left. She was encouraging me.

The entire theater had faded to black as I mouthed her ear and neck. I was
acutely aware that I was painfully erect. Pulling away, I gazed at her. Front
lit by the light from the screen, she was beautiful. She was flushed and
panting. My eyes were drawn to her considerable cleavage. Mom’s eyes had a
glazed appearance when she turned to look at me.

“J…Jim…” She whispered.

She didn’t resist when I slowly lowered my mouth and pressed it against hers.
Time was frozen. As kisses go, it wasn’t much. Dry and chaste. But mom’s eyes
were closed and I felt her lips relax and began to move softly against mine.

I drew back and looked down at her. Her nostrils were flared delicately. She was
breathing a little harshly. Fortunately, my left arm blocked my crotch from her
view.

“J…Jim…” She panted softly, “I…I…don’t…I think…I…”

My fingers hurt from the pressure she was applying with her own.
“Mom…Mom…”

She turned her face away towards the screen. I briefly thought I had stepped
over a line considered unacceptable. That is, until she reached around her neck
and pulled her hair to the side and bared her slender neck for me.

I noticed that she seemed to lean into me and melt when I again lowered my lips
to her flesh and began mouthing the gentle slope of her neck. A small cry was
squeezed from her throat when I kissed her behind her ear and gently breathed
warm breath into her ear canal.

“Ooohhh…” She whispered, “That feels…n…nice…”

I extracted my fingers from hers and, tilting her head back, I kissed her along her jaw line.

The tips of our tongues met for the briefest of moments and we quickly
pulled apart to stare at each other with wide eyes.

“Mom…” I panted.

“Jim…” She wheezed.

“You can’t…kiss m…me like that…” she whispered quietly.

My eyes were hooded. “Why not, ? When was the last time you’ve been really
kissed?”

She didn’t answer but just looked into my eyes as I brought my mouth to hers
again. Our lips brushed lightly, delicately.

“It’s just a kiss, mom.” I breathed.

“J…Jim…” mom moaned

“Wow…” I gasped after we broke the kiss. “That was…something else.”

She was staring at me and panting, “Jim…”

“You sure are a good k…kisser…” I smiled nervously. “But are you really sure
we should be…doing that?”

“You’re my d…date, ” I choked, “It’s what dates do.”

If the other movie goers had turned around at that moment, they would have seen
a middle-aged woman making out with a young college student. I didn’t care.

Over and over we kissed. Deeply. Passionately. I had extricated my fingers
from hers and slid around her waist and pulled her closer.

Panting, gasping for oxygen, we parted and leaned back slightly and just looked
at each other. She dropped her hand onto my leg and began gently stroking
my inner thigh. I wondered what I would do if she had touched my considerable bulge

She giggled, flushed and excited. “Honey, you have no idea…”

I stared at her through lidded eyes and panted, “I love you, mom.”

she snuggled against me and struggled to catch her breath looked up at me and grinned, “I know, darling, I love you, too.”

“Mom, it is incredible kissing you…all warm and wet and…wonderful.”

“It is kind of nice, isn’t it?”

The next morning we kissed goodbye after breakfast and mom left for home.

She playfully rebuffed my efforts to entice her into another make out session.
“Let’s leave something for next time.”

“Alright, pretty lady.” I was resigned, “Promise me you’ll call me when you get
home.”

She agreed and just like that she was gone, leaving me to my books and memories
of our date. I couldn’t stop thinking of how it felt to hold her…to kiss
her…to touch her.

The next days were torturous. I couldn’t stop thinking of her. I failed a test
in Chemistry. I wandered around in a fog. I couldn’t stop masturbating to
thoughts of her.

On Wednesday night, I called her at home. She said she didn’t have time to talk
but that she’d call me on Saturday evening. Mom always had time to talk.
Immediately, paranoia took over. Mom felt guilty. She regretted what we had
done.

By Saturday, I was a wreck. I couldn’t sleep. I didn’t eat well. I wasn’t able
to work out. When the phone rang at 10 that night, I almost didn’t answer.

My hands were shaking when I picked up the receiver. “Hello.”

“Hi Pookie Bear.” She sounded chipper and upbeat.

“Hi, mom?” I asked as if anybody else ever called me.

She must have sensed something in my voice. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

I hesitated, “Nothing. I’m fine.”

“That’s BS, honey. Don’t try to put one past me. I know better, now what’s
wrong?” She ordered firmly.

“I don’t know…I thought…when you didn’t want to talk to me…Wednesday
night…that…that you… regretted…were feeling
guilty…about…about…last weekend.”

The sound of her laughter was all the reassurance I needed. “Don’t be foolish,
darling. All week long you’re all I’ve been able to think of. I wish you were
kissing me now. Something had come up”

“You know me better than that. When have I ever been shy in telling you what I think? I’ll
make you a deal, honey. If you ever wonder what I’m thinking or feeling, ask
me. I promise I’ll be honest with you.”

“Deal.” I grinned, feeling comfortable for the first time all week.

“So, I made you a basket case, huh?” I could feel her smile on the line.

“Yeah, you might say that.” I laughed. “My 4.0 is gone, thanks to you.”

“Well, if it’s any comfort, you weren’t alone.” She retorted. “I couldn’t stop
thinking about last weekend, either. Yesterday I put milk in the dishwater and
fed the cat a saucer of dish soap.”

I laughed long and loudly. My relief was enormous. I sank back into the couch
and felt my bottled up anxieties wash away as she talked with me. For the next
half hour or so we chatted about life in general, the twins, Dad, and myriad
other subjects. Our conversation was normal.

Then Mom steered the conversation to the previous weekend. “Honey, last
weekend…did that make you…uncomfortable at all? Because if it did…”

I cut her off abruptly. “God no, mom. In all honesty, it was probably the most
exciting night of my life.”

“No regrets?”

“Not even for a second.”

“Me either.” She giggled, “All week long I’ve been obsessed with how good it
felt to be…kissed…and held like that again…”

“Get in line, mom.” I laughed, “I haven’t been able to concentrate on anything.
I can’t seem to make sense out of ‘Hamlet’ and Chemistry has been a mystery
lately.”

I could hear mom breathing heavier on the other end of the line. “When I lie
down at night and close my eyes, I’m back in the movie theater with you. You’re
kissing me…holding me…the way you look at me…”

“Me too, mom.” I said quietly. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“What are we going to do about…it…about us?” She whispered.

I was silent for a long moment. “I don’t know. All I do know is that I can’t
wait to hold and kiss you again.”

“You are so bad,” She laughed. “Wanting to make out with your own mother. But I
love it. You make me feel sexy…desirable when you say things like that. You
make me feel like a woman again.”

“Mom, you’re all woman!” I shouted, “You’re just about perfect in every way.”

I could tell she was pleased and was eating it up. “Yeah, right!”

“You are, mom.” I stated flatly, “As far as I am concerned…well, never
mind…you don’t want to know what I think.”

Mom laughed happily as I flirted with her, “Oh, but I do! Right now I very much
want to know what you think of me.”

“Let me ask you a few questions first, and then I’ll tell you what I think.” I
proposed.

My penis was at half-staff as I talked with her and I massaged it vigorously
through my shorts.

“Tit for Tat?” She asked.

Tit for Tat was a game we had played since I was in grade school. Trading
questions and we weren’t allowed to fib.

“Anything goes?” I asked. “No subject taboo?”

‘Anything goes.” She agreed. “Go ahead, honey, you first.”

I bit the bullet. “What are your measurements?”

Mom laughed long and loud. “You are getting bold down there, aren’t you?” She
paused a second then answered, “36 27 37 the last time I checked.”

“Wow. Bra size?”

“Nice try, Dollface,” She giggled, “My turn. How big are you?”

I was startled. That was the last question I expected. “Um…6’2, 210 pounds.”

She laughed again, “No, you dillhole! How big are you…down there?”

I knew what she was after but played dumb. “My shoe size is eleven triple E.”

“Alright, smart alec, you know what I mean! Don’t play games. How big is
your…thingee?”

I burst into laughter. “My thingee? C’mon, mom, is that what you call it?
Thingee?”

“Okay fine, Pookie Bear,” She snarled in feigned exasperation, “How big is
your…penis?”

I pretended to be shocked. “Geeze, mom!” I exclaimed and added, “I don’t
know…I’ve never actually measured it.”

“Well, don’t you have a ruler?” She asked firmly.

“Not here.” I said, “But maybe I can find something to compare it to.”

Her breathing quickened. “Are you…excited…aroused…now, honey?”

“Mom, I know it’s crazy, but lately I get excited every single time I think of
you. Wait just a second.”

I raced through my apartment trying to find something that could accurately
describe my erect ‘thingee’ to my mother. How bizarre — it wasn’t something
most teenagers would ever be likely to be asked to do. I found a ‘measuring
stick’ in the bathroom.

Back on the couch, I picked up the receiver and announced, “I’m back.”

“Where did you go, Honey?” Mom queried.

“I had to find something that I could compare my ‘thingee’ against to answer
your question.” I answered and asked a question I already knew the answer to,
“Mom, do you have a can of Glade air freshener?”

“One sec.” She breathed quietly.

I heard her set the phone down. Less than a minute later, I heard her walk back
into the living room of Grampa’s farmhouse and settle back onto the couch.

“I have one here.” She said softly into the mouthpiece.

“It’s almost exactly the same size as my…thingee.”

“Oh sweet Jesus. Wait a second, Honey, let me get my ruler.” I heard her set the
phone down again. A few seconds later she was back. “Oh. My. God.”

There was silence on the line for many long seconds before she whispered,
“You’re nine inches long?”

I was slowly fisting myself. “I don’t know. If that’s how long the Glade can is,
I’m just a bit longer. The head extends out a little further.”

“Oh sweet Jesus…” She choked. “Are you as thick as the can, too?”

I examined the can of ‘Mountain Rain’ juxtaposed with my erection and answered,
“It’s pretty close. Maybe I’m a little bigger around.”

“You’re not bullshitting me are you, honey?” She hissed.

“Uh-uh.” I quickly answered, “That wouldn’t be keeping with the rules.”

“Jesus…” Mom breathed. “Can I see it when I come down next weekend?”

“Nice try.” I laughed, “My turn. Bra size?”

Mom sounded flustered. “C cup is a wee too small and D cup is too big.”

Pre-come was oozing from the head of my dick as I digested the information.
“Wow…”

There was electricity on the line.

“Honey, I wish I were with you right now. I wish you were kissing me again.” mom whispered.

“Me too, mom. I can’t wait until next
week.”

“God, me either. Will you let me see your penis then?”

“Is that your question?” I laughed hoarsely.

“No.” she giggled. “How many times a day do you masturbate?”

“Two…maybe three times,” “Occasionally more.”

“Oh my,” . “Doesn’t…it get sore?”

“If I don’t use lotion it does.” . “Do you like…oral?”

“Y…Yes.”

“Giving or receiving?”

“Yesssss…”

My body was betraying me. I couldn’t think. I could visualize her on the other
end of the couch from me as I squeezed my cock.

“What are you wearing, mom?” I hissed excitedly.

I had skipped my turn. but i dont think it mattered “Just p…panties. And they’re around
m…my knees. What about you?”

“Just a pair of gym shorts.” . “But they’re around my ankles.”

“J…Jim…”

“Mom…”

“Do you think I’m a bad mother…sick?” The strangled question sounded like it
was coming from somewhere else.

“God no!” “I think you’ve been neglected, but you’re not bad.”

“But you’re my son…”

I tried to reassure her, “Mom, I don’t know about anything except that you’re
the most incredible woman on the planet. I love everything about you. Your
simple grace, your elegance, your sense of humor, the way you look. We’re both
adults, mom. I would never force you to do anything you aren’t comfortable with,
but I would do anything you wanted me to.”

“Anything?” she wheezed.

“Anything.” I stated flatly. “I love you more than anything or anyone on Earth,
mom.”

“God, baby, me too!” “You know this is crazy, don’t you?”

“P…Probably…” I grunted, “But it makes me crazy to think about holding
you…kissing you…”

“Me, too, baby.”

“Mom, you have no idea how hard I had to f…fight myself to keep my hands under
control while we were necking…making out last week.” I confessed.

She giggled, “Then you’re n…not as smart as I thought you were, darling. Maybe I
wouldn’t have objected.”

“M…Mommmm…” I cried plaintively.

“And all we’re really doing…is helping each other out…making each other feel
good…” I panted. “I’m almost there, mom…”

“M…Me, too, baby…” “M…Maybe if we just agree to…ughn…take
things slow and see where it takes us. I promise that I’ll let you know if you
ever d…do anything that makes me…feel uncomfortable.”

“Agreed, mom.” “I promise, too.”

A second later it sounded like the phone dropped onto his coffee table and heard
him bellow as if in pain.

“AAAAAUUURRRRRRRRGGGGHHHHHH! OOOOOOHHHHHHHHH SSSSSHHHHHHHHHIT!” .

Then there was silence for several minutes before I picked up the receiver.

“Sorry, mom.” I said sheepishly, “I couldn’t help it.”

“Wow,” she breathed heavily, “That sounded like you were in pain. Did you make a
mess?”

I laughed long and loud, “Yeah, you might say that. Some splattered across the
room onto the stereo.”

“I wished I could have watched it, baby.” she grunted “Oooooohhhhh baby I’m commmmmmmmmming tooooooooo…”

“God, mom…” I whispered, “That sounded so hot. Did you enjoy yours as much
as I enjoyed mine?”

“That was so intense, darling. It felt like my heart stopped.”

“I wish I could have watched you, mom.” I could hear the smile on her face.

We both burst into excited and nervous laughter as we adjusted to the idea that
we had just masturbated to each other over the phone. I felt completely at ease
— not at all uncomfortable with the situation. I didn’t know how far we were
going to go with this new aspect of our relationship, but I was determined to
enjoy it fully.

“So, mom, are you going to model your new panties and bra for me next weekend?”
I asked pointedly.

“Sure, I think I can be persuaded and I’ll do you one better. I
bought a new nightie that I think you’ll like.”

“I can’t wait, mom.”

“Well, baby, you’re going to have to.” she laughed. “It’s getting kind of late,
honey. I have to go and turn in.”

“Okay, mom.” I said, “I really had fun tonight. Thanks so much.”

“Oh no, darling,” she laughed, “Thank you! I really enjoyed our ‘talk.'”

“Call me on Wednesday?” I asked.

“You can count on it, honey.”

“Okay, mom. Goodnight. I love you.” I whispered.

“I love you, too, sweetheart. Goodnight.” mom replied…

The End

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