Tag, You'Re It

by Thesandman

Copyright© 2009 by Thesandman

Incest Sex Story: A childhood game between a son and his mothers turns into something a bit more intimate than that.

Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Incest   Mother   Son   First   Oral Sex   Masturbation   Petting   Sex Toys   Squirting   Spitting   Exhibitionism   Voyeurism   .

It was a stupid, stupid, and dumbass thing to do. But I did it anyway. And I spent the better part of the rest of the night telling myself just that. I mean come morning, there was no way I was going to be able to explain it, surely she'd know ... figure it out. And then, there'd be hell to pay.

Not like we both hadn't been paying it already.

My father had left two years prior. He'd gotten a fairly substantial promotion, and with that an enormous pay increase, a brand new office to go along with the title, not to mention a sweet sexy administrative assistant they're now called, to wait on him hand and foot ... oh, and in his case, add cock to that list of duties too. Don't get me wrong, he'd worked long and hard for that, but once he'd reached his new glorified status, for whatever reason, mom was no longer worthy of his new suddenly sexy self.

It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out he was banging the new assistant, nor did he deny it (somewhat to his credit either) after mom confronted him about it. But ... it didn't end either, though their marriage soon after did.

The divorce wasn't all that messy. Mom got a reasonable amount of money from him to live on, though she also had a fairly decent job herself. At least one in which for a time she could lose herself in, which she did. And, she was still able to provide reasonably well for the two of us as I finished out my final year of high school before deciding which university it was I wanted to attend. The one thing I'd already decided was to take off the summer, relax, see the sights, enjoy myself and have a little fun before knuckling down and hitting the books again. Something my mother was delighted to hear, as I'd be staying with her for a while yet, before moving out and living on campus as was my intent.

I guess it was the thought of her being really alone that began to get to her. And though she hid it for the most part well enough, there were times I could hear her crying in her bedroom late at night. That was followed with her having a bit more wine in the evening that I'd seen her normally consume, and as I was later to learn, with her taking sleeping pills on top of that.

After the divorce, friends and coworkers tried to fix her up with dates. She went on two in the beginning, each one a total disaster. Needless to say, she wasn't too enthusiastic about going out or meeting anyone else again after that. And not that mom wasn't attractive, she most certainly was. She was only then thirty-nine, not even forty yet. Dad was ten years her senior, and now, here he was messing around with a woman half his age, barely older than I was at eighteen. But like I said, I thought mom was attractive looking, and she was my own fucking mother for hells sakes! She was in reasonably nice shape, sure ... she didn't have the body of a twenty something year old anymore, but I'd seen the looks she was given whenever we went out to do any shopping, or on a handful of times, actually enjoying an evening out together over dinner. She got looks, and I looked at her appraising her myself whenever she did, though at the time I didn't realize I was looking at her the way that I was. Nor did I realize I was now starting to feel a tiny bit jealous of it when guys did. It was neither a thought nor an emotion I had ever had to consider before, so when I first had them, I had no idea what they were ... or why I was even having them to be perfectly honest about it.

Everyone talks about how they've stumbled into their parents dressing, or rather undressing by accident. Maybe I did when I was younger, but the truth was, if I had, I didn't honestly recall or remember it. Obviously, that memory or image wasn't one important enough for my recall files to be locked away for future perusal. But that all changed after I began to look at my mother in a different light, especially when I came home one night quite unexpectedly.

I worked a part time job, not that I really needed the money. Mom saw to it that I had whatever I needed, if and when I really needed it. The job was for nothing more than some self spending money (mainly for dates) though I had just recently broken up with my own long-time girlfriend over what else? Sex. We'd been dating for almost the entire time in high school and hadn't done diddlysquat. Now that we'd graduated, I figured we'd move forward a little faster than we had, a few hand jobs here and there, and some heavy petting was evidently as far as it was going to go in the foreseeable future. When I informed Penny I was going to eventually be attending a university a slight distance away, her dreams of marriage, raising an immediate family came to a screeching halt. And with that, so did the amount of intimacy we'd been having up until then. Saving herself for marriage (as she put it) wasn't in my immediate future, and with that, the relationship simply came to an end.

Needless to say, I was climbing a few walls myself, so the friction at home wasn't exactly conducive to making things any easier on mother either. I had gone into work as planned, but upon arriving, was asked by another friend of mine who I worked with if I was willing to trade him the night off as he had a major date planned for Friday. Since I didn't, nor would have anytime soon, I agreed to trade him, and thus found myself having the night off unexpectedly, going in to work for him the following night instead.

I wasn't at all surprised to see mom's car in the driveway of course when I got home, though I also knew she wasn't expecting me to be there when she did. Which meant that no doubt she wouldn't be worried about fixing dinner, and had no doubt already snacked on something, along with several glasses of wine by now. Often whenever she did that, as she'd been doing, she'd drink just enough wine to get herself a bit tipsy, though sleepier, and crawl up into bed considerably earlier than usual if I wasn't going to be around.

I didn't exactly make a whole lot of noise when I came in, but I didn't take my shoes off or try and walk around quietly either. There was no noise coming from the TV, so I knew she'd most likely already gone upstairs to bed, even though it wasn't 8:00 in the evening yet by the time I had gotten home.

Her bedroom was at the opposite end of the hallway from mine, which I would have to pass by at the top of the landing. I figured to stop, check in on her, and then go and change clothes and get into something comfy for the night. After that, I'd fix a sandwich, pop myself down in front of the TV, and with luck, if she was indeed sleeping, switch over to an adult station, watch some soft porn, stroke myself off a nice one, and head on up to bed myself afterwards.

As I reached the top of the stairs I noticed two things. One, there was still light coming from underneath the door in her bedroom, which meant she was very likely still up. It was possible she was reading, as she loved a good book, but it had been a hell of a long time since she had. Two, the door wasn't entirely closed. It didn't stand wide open, but it had a good six inch gap in it, which immediately told me that she very likely was sitting there reading, sort of listening for any sounds coming downstairs. And though I had told her I had to work, it was just as likely possible she either didn't remember that, or had forgotten, and was perhaps expecting to hear me come home soon. Either way, I figured to peek in on her before heading down the hall to my own room. With luck, she'd be asleep already, and I'd simply close her door and proceed on with my own plans. If she wasn't, well ... then I'd have to play things by ear and see how the rest of the evening went. With luck, I'd eventually still get that stroke off in one way or the other.

Normally I would have just barged right in, especially as her door was partially open, and told her I was home. And as I prepared to do just that, I suddenly checked up, hearing something strangely unfamiliar, but at the same time, all too familiar as I stood there thinking about it.

A few months back I had walked in on my mom and a friend of hers, Sharon, as they sat at the kitchen table over coffee. This was during the time when she, along with a few others was either trying to set mom up with someone, or at the very least get her out of the house. The weird thing was the looks on their faces when I unexpectedly walked into the kitchen, not to mention the sudden mad dash to stash away whatever it was my mother had been holding in her hand at the time. I hadn't seen anything, but it was obvious to me whatever it was, it had embarrassed the two of them tremendously. They both sat there red faced, looking guilty as hell, something I wasn't used to seeing my mother look like, or Sharon for that matter. Sharon was by all accounts rather wild in her own right, I'd overheard enough conversations which had convinced me of that, so seeing the two of them pretending to be doing something other than what they had been, I found quite amusing.

Pretending I hadn't seen or suspected a thing, I soon grabbed some cookies and milk and headed off to watch TV. Later that night after she'd reluctantly gone out on one of her two disastrous dates, I did what any bored curious kid would do. I went through her things. And it's not like she had some secret hidden away wall panel, or even a safe to lock things in. She didn't. For some oddball reason, women tend to think they can hide things in their panty drawer, like that is some sort of natural ward against kids rummaging through things. As though we'll all freak out at seeing our moms bras and panties and such. Truth was, I knew whatever it was she was trying to conceal from me earlier would no doubt be hidden away beneath all that silk and lace, which it was.

Now, we all know (even if we really don't think about it) that our moms and dads have sex. Usually, most kids would rather NOT think about it to be perfectly honest. I know in the beginning, I thought pretty much the same thing myself. But this took things in an entirely new direction. Curious, I rummaged through her "unmentionables" as she called them, and soon after discovered what it was that she and her girlfriend had initially been laughing about, and after my walking in on them ... trying to hide.

I had turned it on, curious, hearing the somewhat faint buzzing of the vibrating toy as I held it in my hand, surprised that she had one, the image now indelibly burned inside my head of my own mother using it on herself.

It was that very same sound I now heard as I stood there just outside her bedroom door.

I knew now what it was she must be doing. Perhaps it would have been more prudent for me to quietly walk down the hallway to my own room and not disturb her. The problem was, I was again curious, if not actually aroused. And as they say about the cat, I figured I had a few lives to give up yet, so approached the door quiet as a mouse in order to peer inside. Little did I know I'd soon be giving up one of those remaining lives.

I found myself standing at the door, likewise holding my breath as I slowly inched my way forward as though she could hear me if I didn't. The light from the bedside nightstand the only light, which was on, but it was enough to clearly see by. Mom, lying on her back, eyes closed, one hand cupping one of her magnificent breasts, which I now saw for the first time really, though my attention was quickly drawn to her other hand. Though I had an idea what to expect as I peeked in, I was still surprised, if not outright shocked by what I was looking at. The same vibrator I had once found was now buried deeply inside my own mother's cunt. I heard her moan, taking a moment to glance up towards her face, glad to see her eyes were still closed. I stood there watching her as she playfully teased her hardened nipples with her fingertips. Mom held one of them between two fingers, pulling on it, stretching it upwards, and pinching it firmly as she did. Simultaneously, she continued to slide the vibrating toy in and out of herself, sometimes allowing it to simply glide over her obviously wet slit, tickling her extended clit before shoving it deeply back inside that wet glistening furrow.

I felt my cock throb, realizing only then how hard I was. Reaching down, I undid the top button on my jeans, my hand slithering down inside the waistband of my shorts. The hardness of my prick was a bit of a surprise, more so because it had become so while I stood there watching my own beautiful mother lying on the bed pleasuring herself. Her breasts though somewhat flattened against her chest, where nevertheless erotically displayed. Her dark swollen nipples very much apparent as she took turns playing with them, the erotic sounds of her moans combined with the slickness of her obviously wet cunt were easily heard as I continued to stand there in the doorway quietly fondling myself.

Which is about the time my cell phone rang.

The moment I heard it I stepped back away from the door. One hand down the front of my jeans, the other reaching back to fish out my cell from my back pocket. And of course the sound of my mother's voice, nervously asking..."Daniel?"

I wanted to die. But by the sound of my mother's voice coming from the bedroom, I thought maybe she wanted to do the same thing too. Having no other alternative, and knowing I couldn't just sit there, I pulled out my shirt covering as best as I could my obvious erection, especially as there was no time to button up my jeans. Cell phone in hand, I was looking at it as I entered, trying to act as nonchalant and as casual as I could, as though I had just then been passing by my mother's bedroom. I clicked the phone shut, looked up and smiled. Mom was obviously still naked, and had only had enough time to grab one of her very large oversized pillows placing that over herself as I entered.

"I didn't know you were going to be home," she said obviously embarrassed.

"Yeah, me neither," I said, trying to sound like I had just arrived, and that I had no idea what she'd been doing in here when I entered. "Just got home seconds ago," I lied, seeing the look of relief on her face, though she likewise glanced at my now wrinkled shirt, shirttails hanging out which wasn't at all how I normally wore them. "Gonna grab something to eat, watch a movie and then hit the sack," I told her. "Need me to get you anything?"

"Ah no ... thanks, in fact, I'll probably get up myself here, tried to sleep, but can't. Ok if I watch a movie with you?" she asked.

"So much for my stroke off," I thought. "Sure ... want me to fix you a sandwich too?"

"No thanks, I've already eaten. But I wouldn't mind another glass of wine," she said holding up her empty glass to me. "Fill one for yourself while you're at it."

Mom was obviously flushed in the face, and I knew it wasn't from the wine. The pillow she held against herself did little if anything to hide the fact that she was totally naked beneath it, and even something as simple as that made her look even more sexy to me than when I'd seen her fully naked, pleasuring herself.

"Ok mom," I said taking the empty wine glass. I quickly headed back downstairs, thankful to have dodged a bullet, though even then I wondered if in fact I really had. Her look had made me wonder as though she were about to say something, ask me something else, but then had thought better of it. By the time I had made myself something to snack on, poured two more glasses of wine and returned to the family room, she was there waiting for me. She had thrown on one of her comfortable terry cloth robes, something I was used to seeing her in, and had settled down on the couch. I handed her, her wine, and then took a seat in the chair kitty-corner across from where she sat. "Anything in particular you'd like to watch?" I asked.

One thing I didn't want to do was to have to sit through some sort of chick-flick. If that's what she decided to pick, I'd have no other choice however but to do so. I couldn't very well get up and leave her sitting there watching it alone when she'd made some obvious effort to want to spend time with me.

"Actually..." she began nervously. "I'm sort of in the mood for something a bit more adult, perhaps even on the naughty side," she then added, to which I had nearly choked on my wine after sipping it.

"What do you mean ... exactly?" I said looking at her, not a hundred percent sure she had actually meant what I'd just heard, though that made her laugh nervously when looking at me.

"You heard me, something sexy, naughty. I know you enjoy watching those adult channels, so maybe we can find something not too uncomfortable to watch together on one of those."

I didn't answer, though I started to flip through a few available programs off the adult channel. The problem with that was, even the names of the available movies were highly suggestive. I felt myself growing red in the face as we sat there browsing through some of the listings.

"There! That one," she said. I read it, surprised that the title had intrigued her, which was bad enough.

"Lonely mother finds comfort in the arms of a younger man."

"You sure mom? These might not be exactly hard core, but they are pretty explicit."

"Make you feel uncomfortable to watch something like that with your own mother?" she asked. Her speech sounded a bit slurred as she spoke. I half hoped another glass or two of wine, and perhaps she'd grow too sleepy to continue watching the program, and perhaps go on up to bed. Though just the thought of that was an instant reminder to me of what I'd watched her doing earlier when she was.

"Well no ... not exactly, it's just that I'm surprised you might find something like that interesting enough to want to see it," I told her.

"Well then?"

I pushed the accept/play for that particular movie, and then sat back in my seat taking a mouthful of my wine emptying the glass.

"Oh good ... pour us another before it starts," mom indicated once again holding up her empty glass.

I stood, but as I did I felt the press of my erection against my jeans, turning quickly in order to face away from her, and then all but ran into the kitchen, taking my dirty dishes and the two empty glasses of wine with me.

"Why don't you just bring us back another bottle while you're in there!" mom called into me.

I was glad for the time to reposition my now somewhat awkward hard cock within my pants, opened a fresh bottle of wine, and re-emerged a few minutes later. The movie was already playing, and whatever preliminaries had occurred already I had missed. An older woman was already being propositioned by a much younger looking man who had come in to sit next to her at a very darkened theatre where she sat towards the back all by herself.

"No woman in her right mind would go into some sort of seedy movie theatre all by herself like that," mom commented.

I couldn't have agreed with her more, but that wasn't the point of the movie, and told her so. "Maybe we should find something else to watch," I suggested.

"No, no ... this is fine!" She laughed. "And I know that it's not very realistic, I'm not quite that naïve," she giggled, once again telling me she was already feeling the effects of the wine. "I just find it a bit amusing is all."

We sat watching it together, in silence. Especially when the younger man eventually reached over and began massaging her breast. Within moments, he'd managed to undo the buttons on her blouse, his hand suddenly worming itself inside where he began to fondle her. By the look on her face, she was enjoying it. Awkwardly, I glanced over towards mom, pretending to take a drink as I did so. To my surprise, she had leaned over slightly trying to face away from me as she sat there on the couch, but it was evident that one of her own hands had disappeared into the opening of her robe.

"God! Is she actually touching herself?" I wondered.

We continued to watch, and I continued to get harder and harder, I had finished my third glass of wine, now feeling it a little myself, reaching for the bottle to pour another. Seeing this, mom quickly drained her own glass, holding it out to me. As she did, she removed her hand from inside her robe, and not too carefully either as it parted considerably, especially as she then leaned forward. "Here, fill me up again too!" she asked. As I poured, I could see her right breast entirely, it had all but fallen out of her robe. Even when she sat back, the front of her bathrobe remained partially open, the fullness of that same breast now openly exposed and just sitting there, though her nipple had just barely secreted itself back behind the material of her terry cloth robe.

By this time the young man was running his hand up and down her partially exposed leg, inching ever forward and higher until it had eventually disappeared beneath her somewhat short skirt and remained there. By the expression on the woman's face, it was obvious as to what he was now doing to her even if you couldn't see it.

"I bet you've done that a time or two haven't you Daniel?" she asked, her speech once again sounding a bit slurred along with her giggle as she said that.

"Mom!" I said feigning shock at her comment.

"Oh come on Daniel, I'm your mother, you can tell me. I bet you have, haven't you?"

"Not in a long ... long time," I finally admitted. "Not since Penny and I broke up, that's for sure!"

"So, you're telling me your not seeing anyone, or doing anything?" she asked, her speech sounding even more slurred than it had.

"Didn't say I'm not doing anything..." I said boldly, wondering as I said it what kind of response I might get from that. Once again mom laughed, even more nervously, her face growing red as she thought about that, though I wondered if it was from the wine or embarrassment, though most likely both.

"Know what you mean," she said. "Me too."

We again sat in silence watching the movie, I was glad that it wasn't anything really hard core as they didn't show anything too explicit, though we both watched as the woman now reached over, unzipping the young man's pants, her hand quickly finding its way inside where it suggestively showed she was jerking him off.

"Maybe you'd better help me upstairs to bed after all," mom said struggling up to her feet as she said it. She wobbled precariously as though about to fall over. I jumped up, just reaching her before she did. But as I did, the front of her robe came entirely open, she was naked beneath it but didn't react to the fact that she was, nor that I could obviously see her. "Guess I had a bit too much to drink," she told me apologetically, though she didn't make any effort whatsoever in closing her robe back together as I began to guide her shakily back up the stairs to her room.

It took a great deal of effort in getting her up there. Twice I had nearly lost her, once having to all but lift her and carry her up, my arm coming into direct contact with her bare breasts as I did so, but somehow I managed it. I finally did pick her up, carrying her down the short corridor off the landing into her bedroom, and then placed her gently down onto the bed. I wasn't sure what else to do, and nearly turned leaving her the way that she was, half in and half out of her robe, and not yet under the covers.

"Help me Daniel," she said somewhat feebly, and then lay there struggling to get out of her bathrobe, even though I'm sure she knew I would see her naked if I did. But the fact she had asked spurred me into action. I managed to get one arm out of the robe, basically exposing her completely. It was inadvertent, and unavoidable contact as my hand grazed one of her breasts, reaching over to try and wrestle out the other arm, she even giggled when I did that, making it more difficult as though fighting me rather than helping me.

"Tag, you're it," she said in a very slurred sounding speech, her eyes closed, and suddenly appearing to have passed out after having said that. I just stood there looking down at her totally nude form, the words a reminder of so long ago now.

As a child we had played a very innocent game together, and even then only on the weekends. It had become a challenge for the two of us, if I could approach and touch her without her catching me before I did, I would then say "Tag you're it." Having accomplished that small feat, I was then granted something simple, like an extra cookie before dinner, or an extra half hour of TV before bedtime. If mom was able to do the same thing to me, then it usually meant I had to straighten up my room, or take out the garbage, which was normally dad's job. Things like that. And the only other rule was, we each only got one shot at it during the day, Saturday or Sunday. If we failed, either one of us, then we had to wait until the next day before trying it again.

Her comment had seemed strange to me hearing her say it. It had been a long time, a very, very long time since we'd last played that particular game. She was for whatever reason remembering that, though why she had, and what she'd meant by it before passing out remained a mystery to me.

I should have simply stepped out of her room and gone back to mine. But there she was, naked and beautiful lying right there in front of me. Though my erection of earlier had dwindled considerably, it now came back with a vengeance. A combination of the movie perhaps, quick tantalizing peeks at my mother, the suggestive, almost flirtatious conversation we had shared, suddenly had me rigidly hard once again. Mom lay quietly unmoving, her breath was easy, steady and calm, by the looks of it, she had indeed passed out, and was now sound asleep. And now, here I was, horny as hell and my own mothers delicious nude body laying there staring up at me. Like I said, I shouldn't have, whatever possessed me at the moment defied all reason, all logic, all morality. But even then I didn't see it as being all that wrong. All I was doing was looking. I certainly wasn't touching, no matter how tempted I might be. All I was doing was looking ... and remembering. Remembering the way she had looked as I spied on her through the open door. The way her hands had caressed and played with her breasts, those same magnificent breasts I was staring at now. And like then, just as they were now, so hard, so firm and erect. "Was she aroused?" Probably not I considered. Though the room certainly wasn't cold, just being naked and uncovered the way she was, was no doubt responsible for that. Still...

"Fuck!" I said aloud, looking at her as I'd said it, but there was no recognition, no stirring in her lovely nude form. I took my cock out and began to slowly stroke it, ever the much aware of the slightest movement, but there was none aside from her calm breathing as I watched her chest rise and fall, her breasts so full, so lovely as she lay there. Tempted yes, I wanted to reach over, finger one. "Did I dare?" I stood there asking myself. "What if she woke, saw me standing there, dick in hand hovering over her?"

I decided she was too far gone to wake up to that. Wrong as it was perhaps, I was myself too fucking horny not to. "Just a touch," I told myself. "A simple quick touch of her nipples, her breasts."

Shakily, literally scared to death, I reached over, one finger just resting atop one of her hard elongated nipples. I pressed it, expecting her eyes to pop open when I did, but they didn't. She didn't even stir really, though I heard her murmur briefly, unintelligible, yet pleasurable sounds. I touched her again, this time softly, ever so softly rolling that hard nubbin between my fingertips. Once again she murmured, but said nothing, continuing to lie still.

"Fuck!" I said again, once more expecting a response, though none came. Dick in hand I moved around to the side of the bed, I was at just the right height, leaning over just a bit, just a tiny fraction, I could just reach her, now rubbing the pearly-dropped head of my dick against the other nipple. As I did, I left a snail's smear of lubrication upon her breast, seeing the glistening glow of it on her flesh there in the light of the bedside lamp. I did it again, even squeezing the head of my own prick, opening the tiny little slit, working it much like a mouth now as I purposely placed it against my mother's tit, kissing it. Again I worked it, squeezing, another fat droplet of moisture oozing out to drop, and then drool down the side of her nipple. I now rubbed that with the tip of my cock, delighting in the decadent sensation, once again hearing the murmured moan of what ... pleasure? Perhaps. Obviously I had interrupted her earlier from reaching climax, perhaps as she dreamt, fantasizing or thinking about whatever it was she'd been thinking about, had come back to her now as I teasingly played with her nipples.

Suddenly she stirred, I stood up, prepared to thrust my cock back inside my jeans, but her eyes remained closed, if anything her legs fell apart even more widely now. As they did so, my attention was now drawn down between her legs, her almost hairless split fully revealed to me. She didn't shave, perhaps trim maybe, but the soft fine downy hair was sparse quite naturally, almost nonexistent without her having to do anything. I noticed then how thick, pink and full her outer lips were, puffy as though aroused. I sat down on the bed next to her, once again just looking not touching, assuring myself she was still fast asleep. Only then did I dare do what I had only moments ago done to her breasts. I gingerly placed my fingertip on her lips, slowly sliding it upwards along one side and then down the other, repeating the process several times as lightly as I could manage to do it until I had once again assured myself she wouldn't wake while doing this. Satisfied, only then did I actually run it directly up the center of her pink glistening split, pressing only slightly, just enough to feel the inner folds of her sex suddenly surround my finger, the moisture evident as I did. I held my finger up to my nose, smelling her heat, her essence, then sucked it, savoring the taste of her, her flavors. I wanted more. Once again I dipped, running my finger up her very slick groove, accidentally brushing against her hard little clitoris. I held my breath, my eyes locked on hers, but she made no movement, her eyes remaining closed though I did notice her breathing seemed to be a bit quicker. I touched her again, tickling her clit gently, softly, her breathing slowly escalating as I did so. I could hear my own heart beating, felt it threatening to explode from within my chest, especially as my finger then wormed its way inside her. I felt the heat of her surrounding it, wondering what it would feel like around my prick. My cock felt like steel, throbbing almost painfully as I sat there slow-stroking myself, stroking my mother, finger-fucking my own mother simultaneously. Before I knew it, I felt the pleasured surge, knew my climatic release was eminent. I looked about wildly, trying to find something, anything to catch it in ... but I was too late, too needful. I looked down, before me lay my own beautiful, sensual, erotic mother. I came. I came again, squirting, squirting. I stood there, a torrent of my spunk splashing down against and upon my own mother. I watched ribbon after ribbon of my sperm criss cross against her breasts, down her tummy, even splashing against her pink petaled lips as I dowsed her like a fire hose gone wild.

And then I stood there, looking down at what I'd done. "Dumbass, stupid fucking dumbass!" I called myself. I had just shot the best fucking wad of my life, all over my own mother. She was slick with my cream, and I knew there was no way in hell I was going to be able to adequately explain that by morning. There would be no excuse. She would wake, eventually remember and then discover what it was I had done. There would be no way I could face her, nothing I could say or do by way of apologizing for what I'd so foolishly, so stupidly allowed to happen.

And then I remembered. Maybe she need never know, well ... not really anyway. Once, Penny had let me titty-fuck her at the drive in. I had cum all over her breasts, dowsing her almost as much then as I had just now creamed my own mothers body, though over a much wider area of course. There had been nothing available to wipe up all the sperm with, so I had simply sat there massaging it into her chest, her breasts until it was all gone.

"Natural lotion," Penny had teased me, enjoying the sensual erotic feel of my hands upon her as I did so.

I crawled back onto the bed, slowly, softly, and ever so cautiously, I began rubbing my cum into my mother's body until it was entirely gone.

After it was, I pulled the covers up and over her, kissing her forehead before I left, whispering the words as I did so. "Tag ... you're it." I stood briefly at the door looking back at her, but she didn't move. I stepped out, closing it behind me and then padded down to my own room where I slept soundly until morning.


I woke to the smell of freshly brewed coffee, which I shouldn't have. The kitchen was too far away for one, and my door being closed for another. I opened my eyes, the aroma even stronger now as I did so. I rolled over looking up. Mother was sitting in a chair across from me, just then taking a sip. She pointed at the nightstand next to my bed, another sat there waiting for me.

"Good morning," she said wide-eyed bright and alert, which I still wasn't.

"Morning," I responded, though now a small fear began to course through me. "Why is she here?" She was still wearing the same robe she'd worn last night, though I hadn't took notice of anything else. I didn't dare.

"Sorry about last night," she told me. Only then did I sit up, careful to keep the sheets covering my obvious nudity as I did, reaching for my cup.

"Nothing to be sorry about," I told her, though in truth it was I who should be apologizing, especially after what I had done.

"Too much to drink I guess," she went on by way of explanation. "I'm just sorry that I wasn't very good company for you, I know you haven't been having a very good time of it lately either," she added.

"It's ok mom, really. No harm, no foul." I have no idea why I said that. I took another sip of my coffee.

"We still need to talk, you and I..." she then said. I felt chills suddenly race up and down my spine as I looked over towards her. "But you really do need to shower first," she then said smiling. "I'll get breakfast started while you do, then we'll have a nice quiet breakfast together, and have a chat. I think there's a few things we both need to discuss and consider."

"Ok," I said simply, waiting for her to stand up and leave so that I could. But she continued to sit. "What?"

Mom just smiled. "You saw me naked," she began. "So..."

"So?"

"So what? It's ok for you to see me, but your own mother can't see her own son as well?"

"Fu ... I mean, mom ... that's different!"

"Oh? How?"

"Uh, um, you weren't exactly in the best of conditions when I put you to bed last night, and I couldn't very well leave you all tangled up in your bathrobe the way that you were now could I?"

"I suppose not," she said looking at me over the rim of her cup. "So that's all then?" she then said.

"What do you mean?"

"You just undressed me and helped me into bed."

I wanted to swallow my tongue, long moments passed, an eternity really as I sat there trying to think of something else to say.

"Well, I did sit with you for a while," I told her. "Wanted to make sure you were ok."

"And was I? Ok I mean?"

"Ah yeah..." I said starting to feel weird, wondering if she was remembering anything, even vaguely, and was fishing for something else, which is when she stood.

"You shower, I'll start breakfast, and then we'll talk." Mom finally got up and left the room. Only then did I jump out of bed and head into my own bathroom to shower. I'd barely gotten inside, my head beneath the almost too hot shower when I felt mom's finger pressed against my ass.

"What the fu..." I said stopping myself short. "Mom?"

She had opened the sliding glass door into my shower. "Left you some fresh towels," she told me. I still had soap in my eyes, though I had turned looking over towards her. "Oh ... and by the way ... Tag, You're it!"

With that she once again turned and left the bathroom, leaving me to stand there mouth agape, wondering just what the hell she had meant by that. "What did she remember? Or think she remembered?" I now asked myself. "And was that the reason she wanted to sit and have a chat with me?"

Trembling, worried, confused, alarmed ... every emotion in the book, I hurriedly dried myself off, dressed, and stumbled downstairs into the kitchen. Mom was humming a tune to herself when I entered, a second fresh cup of coffee waiting for me as she stood there scrambling some eggs.

"Hungry? How many?"

I had been earlier, but at the moment, my appetite had fled. I was too nervous to think clearly at the moment about anything, though glad for the coffee as I sipped it, giving my shaking hands something to steady themselves with.

"What did you mean when you said that," I asked.

"Said what?"

"You know ... Tag? You're it?"

"What do you think I meant by it?" she asked turning around to face me, though she spooned out half the eggs she'd just scrambled onto my plate as she said that.

"I don't know ... that's why I'm asking," I told her.

She smiled. "Eat first, then we'll talk."

I watched her as she worked her way around the table sitting across from me. The fact she was still wearing the same robe she'd had on the night before made me a little apprehensive. Especially as she sat down, and the front of it once again showed a great deal more cleavage than normally, even when she'd worn it before. Though her breasts weren't exactly hanging out or anything, it was difficult enough not to sit there and stare at her anyway.

"Your ah ... boobs are almost falling out," I politely tried to tell her, feeling my face flush to some degree as I stared back down at my plate.

"That didn't seem to bother you too much last night ... or did it?" she asked. I looked up just as she took a bite of her eggs, though she also sat up a little straighter in her chair, the robe opening even more as she did so, one breast nearly fully exposed now.

I almost choked on mine. "You knew," I said almost whispering. "God mom ... I'm sorry!"

"No reason to be," she openly admitted it herself now. "Was just curious as to how you felt about it this morning, after having had a moment to think about it. Besides, I could have stopped it anytime too you know. But I didn't. And now ... having said that, maybe it is time for us to talk about it."

I didn't know what to say. The fact that she was very much aware of everything that had happened spoke volumes.

There is more of this story...
The source of this story is Storiesonline

For the rest of this story you need to be logged in: Log In or Register for a Free account