Mom's Stocking Stuffer

by

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

Desc: Erotica Sex Story: Mom starts wearing stockings to her job at a high-end department store and it inspires her son to a Christmas stuffing.

It started out innocently enough - but I guess it always does.

As long as I can remember, Mom had always greeted me and wished me goodbye with a little peck on the lips. Naturally, I tried to avoid it as I got older out of embarrassment, and by the time I was a teenager, it was something rare that only happened at home.

That changed when Dad walked out on us. Mom was devastated, and I did everything in my power to help her through it. On a whim, I brought back the old childhood ritual. The way it made her smile convinced me to keep it up.

I didn't realize at the time the effect it was going to have on me.

A look at the clock told me that I was right on schedule. Mom would be home any minute, and dinner would be waiting for her. I'm not much of a cook, but it wasn't rocket science to heat up the leftovers from Thanksgiving dinner. I had the day off from work, but Mom worked in a high-end department store, and this was the kick-off of her busiest time of year.

The car pulled up in the drive, and I winced at my reaction.

I'd come to anticipate those welcome kisses far more than I should have. I knewthat what I felt was wrong, but that didn't change it. Hearing her heels clicking on the porch, I made my way to the front door.

"Welcome home," I said as she opened the door.

She gave me a weary smile as she closed the door behind her. I could tell she was exhausted as she put down her purse and walked toward me, running fingers through honey-blonde hair slightly mussed by the wind. My breath caught in my chest as I noticed something new.

The store expected employees to dress well, so Mom was in a nice button-down blouse with a vest and a skirt. The outfit drew attention to her curvy figure, which I'd begun to notice shortly after resuming the kissing ritual. I knew that her breasts were a large C-cup, because I'd peeked at her bras and discovered that she wore C in some brands, and D in others. They were a perfect compliment to the swell of her hips.

What had caught my eye were her legs, though. I got an even better look as she removed her long coat, draping it over the back of the couch. She'd always had gorgeous legs, but I'd never seen her wearing stockings, and I couldn't believe how sexy they looked on her.

As she reached me and leaned in for a kiss, I realized to my shock that I was getting hard. Our lips touched ever so briefly, and I swelled even more.

The last thing in the world I wanted was for Mom to notice that, so I said, "Go sit down. I warmed up some leftovers."

"Thank you, honey."

I gave my cock a squeeze and adjusted it once out of sight in the kitchen, and I could feel my ears burning. I could still see her legs clad in dark nylon in my mind's eye. Something about those stockings was pushing my buttons, and it took me a minute or two to get myself under control.

I made us both a plate and took them back into the front room. "I got the sink in the bathroom unclogged."

"Thank you, Justin," she said as she took her plate. "I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't taken over as the man of the house."

"Just helping out."

"And you do a good job of it."

Her smile almost made me break out in goose bumps.

We didn't really talk much as we ate. Once finished, I took both plates to the kitchen and rinsed them before putting them in the dishwasher. When I returned, Mom had taken off her heels and reclined on the couch. The sight of her feet in the dark nylon stockings had the same effect on me as her legs. I'd never seen anything so arousing in my life, and had no idea why it turned me on so much.

She started to pull her legs up, but I waved to stop her. "You're okay. There's plenty of couch left."

She nodded and let out a sigh of relief as she stretched her legs out again. "I certainly can't tell that the economy is down from the way things were today. Ohh, my legs are so sore. And my poor feet. I barely had a chance to sit down all day."

After a moment, she looked at me with pleading eyes and asked, "Is there any chance you could give me a foot rub?"

Somehow, I spoke around the lump in my throat. "I could try, I guess."

I sat down, lifted one of her heels, and started rubbing her right foot. Mom let out a groan, and then a sigh, leaning her head back on the arm of the couch. The sexy sound gave me chills, and the motion drew attention to her breasts, but the feeling of her foot in my hand was what really got me.

"Oh, honey. That feels so good."

I was careful of the delicate, slippery fabric as I kneaded and caressed her foot. She curled her toes as I worked, occasionally moaning. I was hard again - and not just halfway - in no time. I moved up to her calves, working out the knots in the muscles. My eyes darted every so often to the hem of her skirt, my fingers eager to move higher still - beyond that line.

Mom chuckled, and then sat up a little. "You're putting me to sleep."

"So?" I responded, realizing I had a smile on my face as I continued to knead her leg muscles.

"So, I need to have a shower. I think I'll turn in early. Thank you, Justin. You're good at that, honey."

"You're welcome," I said as I reluctantly uncurled my fingers from around her leg.

As she sat up and swung her legs off the couch, I got one last reward for my efforts. Her skirt bunched up just high enough for me to see the top of her left stocking in the shadows beneath her skirt, and the clip attaching it to a garter belt.

"Goodnight," she said as she stood, straightening her skirt.

"Night," I replied.

The moment she turned to walk toward the bathroom, I once again found my eyes doing things I hadn't told them to do. I don't know whether it was natural, or something she'd practiced. All I knew is that I'd never seen another woman move quite like her. The way her butt danced beneath the skirt with her every step was mesmerizing. Even the way she held her hands was sexy. When she passed out of sight, I turned on the T.V.

I don't know what was on, because I couldn't get her out of my head. The thoughts made me tingle and cringe at the same time. I mean, who has sexual thoughts about his mother? Granted, I was in a slump several months long between girlfriends, but that wasn't enough to explain why I couldn't ignore how sexy Mom looked in her work clothes. Finally, a favorite show distracted me.

The house was quiet when I turned off the T.V. It had been over an hour, and Mom had already gone to bed. I stretched and thought that I should probably do the same. I didn't have to work the weekend, but I knew from experience that staying up too late would come back to haunt me when I did go back to work on Monday.

Besides that, as soon as I turned the television off, I had started thinking about Mom in the shower. Shaking my head vigorously, I pushed the thought aside as best I could and went to bed.


The next day, things played out much the same. Mom was wearing stockings again, and it was the very first thing I noticed when she walked in the door. If anything, her legs looked even better than the day before. After we'd eaten, she again asked me for a foot and leg rub.

Despite my best efforts, I was rock hard before I even touched her foot.

A moan that had a note of finality, similar to the sound Mom had made before getting up the previous day, left me torn between relief and disappointment. I expected her to say that she was going to take a shower and go to bed.

"Do you think you could do my shoulders, too?"

My expectations turned completely around, it took me a second to answer, "Yeah."

I stood up and walked to the other end of the couch, where Mom was reclining against the arm. She scooted back a little, sitting up straighter, and said, "Thank you, honey."

"No problem, Mom."

Of course, I did have a problem, and I prayed that she hadn't noticed the bulge in my jeans when I stood up. What's more, she'd undone a single button at the top of her blouse. As I settled my hands on her shoulders, I could just see the upper valley between her breasts in the shadows beyond the parted cloth.

As I kneaded her shoulders, she arched her back a little. The combination served to pull her blouse tighter against her body, thrusting her breasts up toward me. I tried not to look, but it was nearly impossible to take my eyes off them. Most of the girls I'd been with had been pretty flat, and Mom was anything but.

The gorgeous, mesmerizing globes moved ever so slightly whenever my fingers squeezed over the bra straps, further drawing my eyes. My cock was throbbing, and for a few minutes, Mom's tits were the only thing I could think of. My imagination took over, peeling away the bra and filling in the details of what was beneath.

I snapped out of it when Mom let out a moan and leaned her head back. I panicked and backed up when the top of her head bumped into my raging hardon.

"Oops. Sorry, honey."

My heart pounding and my ears burning, I managed to say, "Huh?"

"Didn't mean to headbutt you," she answered, and then let out a little laugh. "Oh, that's so much better. Thank you."

"You're welcome." I moved in behind the couch, letting the high back hide my erection.

"Well, I'd best get in the shower and to bed. Goodnight, honey."

"Night, Mom."

It was quite some time before the swelling in my pants went down.


Mom didn't have to work on Sunday, so she was dressed casually. To my embarrassment, I missed her legs terribly the whole day as we put up the tree and decorated the house. The jeans she wore did hug her hips and bottom, and I was about half mad at myself for noticing.

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