Chapter 1

I guess I'm not the first guy on earth who was pretty nice looking but just really shy around girls. So, while most of my friends were dating when we were sixteen, I was usually home alone.

Well, not alone, I did live with my mother; my father had moved out when I was fourteen and, while I did see him a few times a year, I was mostly home with mom.

I did okay in school, didn't have many outside interests other than the swim team I was on and, like I said, there were no girls breaking down my door.

But I was pretty buff from my swimming and one day Mom picked me up after practice and I was still in my Speedo.

"Patrick, perhaps a mother shouldn't say this to her own son but you have a killer-butt."

"Mom, geez, come on."

"Well, you do, son, as far as I'm concerned you can wear that around the house. Your poor old mother doesn't get much enjoyment any more, you know."

"Yeah, but, well..."

"Humor me for once, Patrick," she said. I had never gone by Pat growing up, always with my full name, Patrick.

I didn't say any more, just figured I'd leave them on, after all they were dry by that point.

So, I went up and jacked-off and finished my homework, the two things I always did when I got home from school, then went downstairs, still in my swim gear.

I was smelling something good from the kitchen so I went to see what might be for supper.

"What's for dinner?" I asked.

She turned and I saw that her eyes immediately went down right to the bulge that was hardly hidden.

"Um, roast chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy," she said; one of my all-time favorite meals. "Just for my hunky son."

I went over to her and gave her a hug and she pulled me closer than usual especially pulling my hips close.

"Thanks, Mom, it's always good when you make it."

"That's sweet," she said as her hand drifted down to my butt. I moved away and went into the den to watch the news wondering what was up with my mom all of a sudden. As I sat there, I realized I had an aching hard-on. The second realization was why I had an erection.

Well, truthfully, it was not the first stiffie I ever got from my mother. She's now forty but not at all overweight. I've seen her in a bikini and she's pretty hot. Long blond hair, often in a braid or ponytail, nice curves, medium-sized boobs that don't really droop; they're nice. I know because I've seen her in teeshirts at times with no bra underneath. And, yes, each time I'd have to go to my room.

So, I have looked at my mom as a sexy woman; after all, she is. But now at sixteen, especially with her noticing me now and making some comments about my body, it's got me thinking more about how she looks.

I did decide to go upstairs and change, to put on a shirt and some pants; after all, it did make me feel a little uncomfortable along with getting aroused by it all.

Nothing much else happened until the next Friday evening. I was in my room, in bed, my laptop pressing down on my erection as I watched porn videos when my mom walked in carrying an armful of folded clothes and put them on the chair.

I quickly closed the top and pushed it off to the side as she turned to me. She was wearing only a bra, one that bared quite a bit along the top, a pair of white panties that were cut lower than I'd seen previously and a pair of thigh-high stockings, also white. She stepped over to my bed, looked down and asked me, quite softly, "Do you love me, Patrick?"

"Of course I love you, Mom."

"More than your father loved me?"

There was a weird question.

"Yeah, more."

She reached behind her and I saw her bra loosen then she dropped her arms down and it slid off baring her breasts.

"It looks like you like what you're seeing?" she asked nodding to the tent I was making in the sheet over my lap.

"You're really beautiful," I said softly, barely above a whisper.

Chapter 2 »