Mother's Favorite Son


Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Romantic, Heterosexual, Cheating, Incest, Mother, Son, Masturbation, .

Desc: Erotica Sex Story: Erik and his mother Rita get personal during their annual Mother's Day bunch, eahc lamenting over their lack of a sex life. Sharing such intimate secrets leads the down a road to a Mother's Day neither will ever forget.


Copyright┬ę 2006 SexyBeast

"To you, the best mother a guy could ever ask for," Erik said, chinking his glass against his mother's in a toast. They were both drinking mimosas, as they were at brunch.

"Thank you, sweetie, you're very nice," Rita answered. She leaned over and kissed her son on the cheek after sipping her mimosa. They were sitting at a small wrought iron table outside in the sunshine at one of their favorite restaurants. They were in a small, secret garden in the rear, which only held four other tables, two of which were occupied. Piano music wafted from a speaker, which was played by a live pianist inside the restaurant proper.

Erik and Rita were celebrating a long standing tradition of sharing Mother's Day brunch and they couldn't have asked for a better day to sit outside. It was in the upper sixties and the sky was a brilliant blue hung with fluffy clouds. The walls of the garden were festooned with blooming vines and although they weren't alone the space lent itself to a sense of intimacy. Ordinarily Erik's brother Owen would have been there as well, but he had taken a summer job and couldn't make it back. Owen had just completed his freshmen semester at college and enjoyed his new freedom too much to return home for the summer. His absence suited Erik just fine, as he was glad to have his mother all to himself.

"You're supposed to say I'm your favorite son."

"Now that wouldn't be nice, would it? I have to say I love both my boys equally," Rita said with a wink. Yes, both sons were the most important things in her life, Rita had always had a special bond with her first born. It had always been an inside joke that Erik was her favorite and while there may have been some truth in it, she could never openly admit to it.

Their waitress came and refilled their mimosas and cleared their plates. She asked if they wanted dessert and while Erik was full, Rita wavered.

"If you want something, Mom, have it. You can have anything you want."

"But I really shouldn't. I've been trying to watch what I eat lately."

"Mom, you look fantastic. You're just being silly."

"You really are such a sweet boy. If I want to keep looking this way I'd better skip dessert." Rita beamed at her son and took his hand.

"She'll have the raspberry cheesecake, please."

The blonde girl smiled at their interaction and said, "It will be right out."

"You're determined to feed all my vices today, aren't you? First champagne and now cheesecake, what will be next?"

"Anything you like. And I'm serious, Mom, you look amazing. I don't think one slice of cheesecake it going to make you fat." Erik stared at his mother like she was the most perfect woman in the world, which she was in his eyes. She'd always had a special place in his heart and mind as far back as he could remember. To Erik, she really was the most beautiful woman in the world and probably the sexiest, if he thought of her that way.

Of course, like many young boys, there was a time when he did have a crush on his mother. When he'd felt those first stirrings of his sexuality his mother was the woman he was around the most and she was a truly beautiful woman by any measure. Rita had long, flowing dark hair and perfect, tanned skin and always worked hard to make sure she looked her best. She had a woman's curves and looked damned good when she sometimes wore a bikini when the family went to the beach. Seeing his mother that way gave young Erik confusing feelings about his mother and when he was ten-years-old he tried to show his affection by kissing like her "like they did in the movies." When he gave his mother an open mouth kiss she did not scold him or tell him he was bad. Rita simply explained that while she was very flattered he loved her so much it was not appropriate for a son to kiss his mother that way. She told Erik that he was just confused and those kinds of feelings were for girls his age.

It was eleven years later and at forty-four Rita was still a striking woman. Her curves were softer now, maybe everything wasn't as tight, and she felt her bikini days were behind her, but the subtle laugh lines in her face only made her more beautiful and her hair was cut to her shoulders now and highlighted with dark blonde streaks. Heads still turned when Rita entered a room.

Erik reached into his jacket and withdrew a long, slim box with a ribbon around it. He pushed it across the table toward his mother.

"What's this? I hope you didn't go out and spend a fortune, young man." Rita wrapped the box and opened it. Inside was a thin, gold anklet with a diamond clasp. "Erik, this is way too much. I can't accept this."

"You have to accept it, Mom. I'm not taking it back. I remember the one you always used to wear in the summertime and how it always made me feel like my mom was cool because she's wear something like that, so I wanted to get you something that said you're still exactly the same to me."

Tears welled in Rita's eyes. "Erik, really it's too much."

"Here, give it to me," Erik said.

He took turned his chair and took his mother's leg, resting her foot, in a navy heel, between his legs. Rita demurely smoothed her skirt over her thighs and Erik fastened the anklet to her shapely leg, outside her hose. "Perfect," he pronounced.

"You really are the most thoughtful son a mother could ask for," Rita said, pulling him into a tight hug. Her heart swelled with so much love for her son she thought it might burst. She could not have been more proud to have raised a son like Erik. He was sweet and smart and very handsome. Whoever ended up as his wife would be a very lucky woman indeed.

The waitress brought Rita's cheesecake and asked if they needed anything else. Erik replied that they did not and she left them alone. His mother poked at the cheesecake with her fork, but did not eat it.

"Mom, stop it," Erik said, taking the fork from her hand. He broke off a piece of the cheesecake and pressed it to Rita's full, ruby lips. She smiled and parted them. He didn't stop after the first piece, but fed his mother the entire dessert. Rita felt rather silly, but it was also very nice. Erik was so attentive and she thought again how lucky she was to have him in her life. Rita knew that no matter how unreliable others in her life might be that her son would always be there to take care of her. That knowledge made her love Erik that much more.

"If you're done feeding me, you can tell me how things are going with Emily." Rita said, wiping her mouth on a napkin.

"They're not. We're on a break right now. She's going to be moving back home and I'm still going to be at school next year and we're not sure how the long distance thing is going to work out."

"You could go out there. If you care for this girl you shouldn't just let her go."

"I don't want to pick up and move halfway across the country, Mom. It's too far away. I really don't want to be more than a couple hours away."

Rita held Erik's hands in hers. "Sweetie, your father and I are fine. You don't have to feel like we're your responsibility. We both want you to live your life."

"But since Dad had the heart attack I just feel like one of us should be around and Owen isn't anywhere close."

"You have to live your own life. Can you just give Emily up like that?"

"I don't know. I care about her a lot, I might even love her, but maybe not enough to move out there. I don't know, Mom, I miss her already. I'm used to seeing her everyday and now her things are out of the apartment. It just feels weird."

"And I'm sure it's strange to go back to sleeping alone. I know it was strange when your father was in the hospital."

"Who says I'm sleeping alone?" Erik smirked.

"Oh, is there a revolving door on your bedroom now?" Rita laughed.

"No, I'm more selective than that, but I am taking numbers." They both had a good laugh and drank their mimosas.

It wasn't strange for them to joke like that. Rita and Erik had always been very, very close. Outsiders probably wouldn't understand their relationship, but there wasn't anything they couldn't talk about. It was Rita, not his father, who gave Erik the sex talk and even pressed a condom in his hand when he became serious with his first girlfriend. She was pretty sure her son was still a virgin because she thought he would have told her if he weren't. And she was right, because after Erik did have sex for the first time he came to her to talk about how it felt. Rita, for her part, made sure he understood what sex meant to a young girl and made sure he wouldn't just use a girl and toss her aside. She didn't even shy away from answering his more awkward questions about oral sex and other activities. One or two of their conversations became quite graphic and Rita found herself turning bright red, but she'd rather her son get his information from her rather than on the street.

"Enough about my love life. How are you and Dad doing?"

"We're good. Your father is," she paused, "your father. He's still taking things slowly, but he's working just as hard as ever and things are going back to normal."

.... There is more of this story ...

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