Chapter 1

We stood in silence, watching until Mia’s car disappeared over the horizon. Turning to Mom, I suggested, “Mom, we should probably head inside. The neighbors might not appreciate us standing out here in our robes.”

“They can all go to hell,” she snapped, her tone sharp with pain. “I just lost my dear daughter, and I couldn’t care less what they think.”

Tears welled in her eyes, tugging at my heart as her expression reflected her sorrow. I pulled her into a tight embrace, nestling her head in the crook of my neck as she began to weep.

“It’s okay, Mom,” I murmured softly. “Mia has a bright future ahead of her. You should be proud, not sad. And I’ll still be here—I’ll do everything I can to help fill the space she’s left.”

She pulled back, and as her tear-filled eyes met mine, I gently brushed her cheeks with the edge of my robe. She managed a faint smile and whispered, “I know you will. I’m so lucky to have such wonderful kids.”

With that, she turned and headed inside, and I followed closely behind.

Once inside, I let out a long yawn, the weight of the restless night catching up with me. “I think I’ll change clothes and get started on the yard work since it’s Saturday,” I announced, my voice reflecting my weakened state.

“That can wait, Steve. I know exactly what you need,” Mom replied with a knowing smile. She walked over to the couch and settled herself comfortably on one end.

“Come lie down and take a nap. Remember how you used to do that when you were little? I’ll read while you catch up on your sleep,” she added, picking up a book from the coffee table.

“Mom! I’m way too old for that. I’ll just go to my room,” I protested.

“Nonsense,” she said, her voice gentle but firm. “Make your mother happy and do as she says. Please?” Her large, warm brown eyes pleaded with me in a way I couldn’t resist.

Sighing, I gave in and lay down, resting my head on her lap. Her fingers began to run through my hair, gently massaging my scalp, and the sensation unlocked a flood of childhood memories. My body softened under her touch, and before I knew it, I was fast asleep.

When I awakened, it took a few moments to gather my bearings, the unfamiliar sensation leaving me momentarily confused. Then I felt an arm resting gently across my chest, and it all came rushing back. It was Mom’s arm, holding me just as she had so many times before. The warmth and comfort of her embrace soothed me, leaving me feeling both consoled and refreshed.

When my eyes focused, I noticed Mom’s bare legs stretched out before me, her robe having shifted halfway up, revealing her smooth, creamy-white thighs.

Sensing my stirring, she asked softly, “Have a good sleep, sweetie?”

Reluctantly, I turned my gaze from her luscious legs to meet her eyes and replied, “That was probably the best sleep I’ve had in ages. Thanks so much, Mom. You still know how to take care of me, even though I’m old enough to go out on my own.”

“Mothers know what’s best for their children,” she murmured gently, her smile warm. “Speaking of that, how about some lunch? Are you ready to eat?”

“How long did I sleep? It feels like we just had breakfast,” I asked groggily, bewildered that it was already time to eat again.

“It’s been four hours,” Mom replied with a grin, clearly amused by my confusion.

“Wow!” I exclaimed. “I can’t believe I was out for that long. I’ll change into my work clothes, grab a quick snack, and get started on the yard.”

“Sounds good,” Mom said, nodding. “I’ll make a couple of sandwiches, and while you eat, I’ll change and start tidying up the house.”

I worked tirelessly all afternoon, determined to make up for the late start, without taking a single break. By the time I finished at five, exhaustion had set in, and I took a moment to cool down. My body was drenched in sweat, and when it began to sting my eyes, I pulled off my top and used it to wipe my face. Still drying off, I walked through the backdoor and found Mom working in the kitchen.

“Did Mia call you yet?” I asked, my voice laced with concern. “She should’ve arrived by now. I hope she made it okay.”

She faced me, her eyes drinking in my hairy chest, shiny with sweat. She reassured me, “Relax, Steve, she texted when she arrived and said she’d been busy settling in. She promised to send you a message later tonight.”

Still eyeing my muscled torso, she spoke softly, “Take your shower and get dressed to go out. I’d like to continue our tradition of dining out on weekends.”

“Sure thing, Mom. Be right back,” I replied, heading toward my room. I could feel her gaze following me as I climbed the stairs.

Once changed, I met Mom at the front door and immediately noticed her new outfit. “Is that new, Mom?” I asked, my eyes briefly lingering on her short, blue skirt and white silk blouse with a plunging neckline, the delicate edge of her blue bra just visible above it.

Noticing my appreciative stare, her lips curved into a knowing curve, and replied, “Yes, it is. Mia picked it out for me from the boutique where she used to work. She’s continuing her campaign to convince me to start dating again and thought I needed a wardrobe update. What do you think?”

“It’s very nice,” I complimented her with a smile. “Mia has great taste, so I’d take her advice if I were you. She’s just looking out for you the way you’ve always helped us when growing up.”

When we reached the car, she stood by the door, waiting for me to open it. It seemed she wanted to test the manners Mia had insisted I practice for both of them. After helping her in, the drive to the restaurant seemed to pass quickly as we chatted animatedly, enjoying each other’s company.

Dinner with Mom turned out to be a soothing experience, easing my worries about Mia. Unlike the times when my sister took charge of our outings, the dinner with Mom felt refreshingly lighthearted. We laughed, chatted, and truly enjoyed each other’s company as we dined. As we approached the end of our meal, I reached over and gently took her hand. “Thanks for insisting we go out tonight, Mom,” I said with a sincere smile. “I really enjoyed spending the evening with you.”

She smiled warmly, then leaned in slightly and, in a softer tone, asked, “Would you mind calling me Lydia when we’re out in public? It makes me feel younger—and it’s good practice for getting used to a handsome man calling me by my name.”

I chuckled and nodded. “No problem, Lydia,” I replied, the smile still on my face. “It’s funny how we can’t stop talking about Mia’s influence on us—she’s impacted us more than we ever realized.”

On the way home, my eyes periodically glanced at Mom’s bare legs, her short skirt exposing more thigh than normal. Once we were back in the house, we changed into our robes and spent the rest of the evening on the couch, relaxing and laughing at sitcoms.

When my phone buzzed with a text from Mia, asking me to call her, I stood and stretched. “It’s getting late, Mom and Mia just sent me a message. I think I’ll head to bed and give her a call. Good night.”

Mom rose to her feet as well, and before I could turn toward my room, she pulled me into a tight hug. “Good night, Steve. Thanks for such a lovely evening. And please tell Mia I love her.”

“I will, Mom,” I promised, offering a quick smile before making my way to my room.

Mia’s smiling face lit up the screen as soon as she answered. “I hope that happy face means you’re settling in nicely. Did everything work out for you?” I asked, my heart beating a little faster as I stared at the love of my life.

“A little overwhelming, but I’m happy with the progress I’m making,” Mia replied, her voice determined yet warm. “I can’t talk long—there’s a ton of documents I need to review tonight before finalizing the setup tomorrow. So, how’d your dinner date with Mom go?”

“We had a great time,” I said with a chuckle. “I only made one slip-up—calling her Mom. She’s really committed to following your advice about moving back into the dating scene.” I hesitated for a moment, then added, “I miss you already, but seeing your beautiful face makes the separation a little easier. Can we talk every night?”

“Of course, sweetie,” she assured me, her voice softening. “I miss you, too. I won’t be able to call again until Monday night, after opening day, but I’m setting aside an hour just for us. I think it’d be nice if you’d get an earlier start in the mornings and help Mom prepare breakfast, taking my place in the kitchen,” Mia suggested, her tone both warm and sincere. “From Mom’s texts, I can tell she’s really missing me, so I’m counting on you to fill in for me.”

“Of course,” I replied without hesitation. “You know I’ll do anything you ask. I love you so much.” My grin widened as her face lit up in response, her smile contagious.

After a few more minutes of easy conversation, we said our goodbyes. Setting my alarm, I crawled into bed, my heart still light from talking with her. Yet, as I lay there, my excitement faded into longing. I tossed and turned, missing her warm, soft body against mine, before eventually succumbing to a restless sleep.

Waking to the blaring sound of my alarm, I groggily rolled out of bed, freshened up, and headed to the kitchen. Mom looked up, surprised to see me. “Good morning, Steve,” she greeted with a warm smile. “You’re up early. I haven’t even finished preparing breakfast yet.”

“I know, Mom,” I replied, matching her smile. “I thought I’d step in and help—taking Mia’s place for a while. Just tell me what to do. I’m all yours.”

She chuckled and began guiding me through the tasks, her instructions patient and clear. Once everything was ready, we sat down together and enjoyed the breakfast we’d made as a team. We went through our usual Sunday routine, and by evening, I retired to my room to study. As I focused on my work, I couldn’t help but think of Mia, missing her more than I expected. I thought about calling her, but I knew she was busy preparing for her grand opening, so I refrained.

Monday dragged on, each hour seeming to stretch longer than the last as I eagerly anticipated talking to my sister. Finally, I received a text from her—she wanted me to call at eight. After a quick dinner with Mom, I excused myself and headed to my room. I concentrated on my studies, determined to finish my work and have plenty of time for our conversation later.

At the appointed time, we connected, and once again, her beautiful, smiling face instantly put me at ease. “How’d it go?” I asked, eager to hear about her grand opening.

“Very smoothly,” she replied, her face radiating happiness and success. “There are still a lot of issues to work through, but I’m really pleased with how well the first day went. How about you? How are you doing?”

“I’m fine,” I said, a smile tugging at my lips. “I helped Mom like you asked and finished my studies, so we can talk as long as you want. I didn’t sleep very well. I miss your company,” I admitted, my voice soft with longing.

“Me too, baby,” she replied, her expression warm and sincere. Then, a playful smile spread across her face as she added, “Set your laptop on your nightstand and give me remote access.”

After positioning it, I changed the permissions and then looked back at the screen. “Done. What now?” “Remove your clothes and lie down on your bed. Consider this some advanced education, in phone sex,” she remarked, her tone lustful.

Once I was prone, I smiled, seeing my soft prick against my leg. I knew she loved watching it grow and looked forward to whatever she had planned.

“Turn your laptop a little to the left, so I can admire your cock and legs,” she instructed.

While slowly adjusting it, she yelped, “Stop. That’s perfect. Now I can see your body through your laptop and your handsome face on my phone. Remember these?”

I watched as she turned her phone around, showing me her bare tits, her free hand cupping one breast while her fingers twisted her puffy nipple.

“I miss your big, strong hands squeezing my tits,” she croaked.

My prick responded, filling with blood, and rising upward.

After waiting until my cock grew to full hardness, she lustfully remarked, “I love seeing your prick harden when you look at me. Grab it and stroke it for me, baby. Think of me while you’re pumping it.”

Wrapping my hand around my stiff shaft, I pumped up and down, imagining it was her doing it. The image of her tits was replaced with her sunken stomach and finally her smooth pubic mound. Her fingers dipped into her slot and withdrew, coming out slick with her juices. Jabbing them back into her hole, she murmured, “Pump it faster, sweetie. Can you remember what it feels like when your big prick is buried in your sister’s tight pussy?”

I squeezed harder and jacked off faster as she egged me on, watching her slippery fingers fuck her horny hole. We continued ramping each other up for another twenty minutes until I couldn’t take it any longer. “I’m cumming,” I gasped and grunted. Streams of milky-white blobs shot out the end of my prick, launching into the air before landing on my stomach.

On the third spurt, Mia screamed, “Me too! I’m dreaming of your cock filling my pussy with your cum!”

Her hand flew in and out of her pussy as her body jerked and bounced off the bed. Her long moans and panting subsided after her orgasm subsided. After lying still for a moment to recover, she withdrew her fingers, shiny wet with her cum, and smeared her juice around her mound. “Thank you, sweetie. I know it’s not near as good as the real thing but it’s the best I can do.”

“It was great, Sis!” I exclaimed, still breathing hard from my own climax. You still know how to turn me on and don’t fret about not being as good. We’ll have a lot of time in the future.”

After chatting until it was time to sign off, she asked, “Is Mom still wearing that short robe I bought for her?”

“Yes,” I replied, a hint of curiosity creeping into my voice.

“What outfit did she wear when you went out for dinner Saturday night?” she pressed, her questions beginning to feel more like an interrogation.

After describing Mom’s attire in detail, my curiosity finally got the better of me. “What’s up, Mia?” I asked, leaning closer to my phone.

“Have you been stealing glances at her long, bare legs?” her expression a playful blend of mischief and joy.

Several visions of Mom’s legs flashed through my mind—from the drive home to helping her prepare breakfast. Feeling guilty about leering at someone else, my face flushed pink.

“No need to answer, Bro,” she giggled. “Your face screams guilty, plus I saw you gawking at them that first morning she wore it. Don’t be embarrassed about it, she has beautiful legs. What I want you to do, though, is to be more transparent.”

“I don’t get it. You want Mom to see me staring at her legs. Are you still trying to sabotage my relationship with her and make her think I’m some kind of perv?” I asked, nervously giggling.

“No, silly. It’ll actually improve your relationship. A woman loves a man admiring her legs. I don’t want you to hide your attraction anymore,” she explained.

“Even if it’s her son ogling her?” I asked, unsure of the appropriateness of her suggestion.

“You’re not only her son, but also a man. Trust me, she’ll love it and it’ll make me happy also. Please?” she pleaded, her expression tugging at my heart.

“Like I said before, I’d do anything for you. But just so you know, I’m holding you responsible if she slaps me,” I teased with a laugh.

“She won’t, I promise,” she assured me. “Got to go, sweetie. Same time tomorrow night?”

“Of course,” I replied.

For the remaining hour, I joined Mom in the living room. I glanced at her legs several times, but out of habit, turned away when I thought she might catch me. After a hug from her when we said goodnight, I retired to my room.

After completing my morning routine of helping Mom, I settled at the table with a cup of coffee. My gaze lingered on her luscious legs, and when she caught me looking, the hairs on my neck stood on end. To my relief, she didn’t seem bothered and carried on as usual before sitting down to join me. We chatted effortlessly, as though nothing had happened, boosting my confidence. Shortly after, I headed to school, proud of myself for following my sister’s advice.

Two nights later, after phone sex with my sister, she asked, “How’s it going with Mom, regarding her legs?”

Her face lit with anticipation as I hesitated, searching for the right words. “Better than expected,” I confessed. “She even smiled a couple of times when she noticed. I think it’s helped ease the tension. I hate to admit it, but you were right—she seems happier now.”

She giggled, her tone playful yet triumphant. “Told you so. There’s something else I’d like you to do. In the mornings, when you first enter the kitchen, walk up behind her while she’s at the stove and gently kiss the nape of her neck as you say good morning. I know Mom will appreciate the gesture—it’ll make her day so much brighter.”

“Good way to get your nose broken, surprising someone from behind,” I countered, my concern evident.

“You might be right,” she agreed. “Place your hands on her waist to let her know you’re there before kissing her. I’d love it if you’d treat me that way and I’m certain Mom will like it too.”

“Seems a bit over the top, but I’ll do it for you,” I conceded with a small grin. “She hasn’t slapped me yet—probably because she’s afraid of losing her handyman,” I added, making both of us chuckle.

“I love you,” she said, puckering her lips and blowing me a kiss. “I have meetings until late tomorrow night, so I’ll talk to you Friday night. Instead of dining out, you should just stay home and cuddle with Mom on the couch. Bye, sweetie.”

Before I could respond, our call ended. Left with my thoughts, I replayed her request in my mind, considering different ways to approach it. The scenarios swirled as I drifted into sleep, still mulling over how to make it happen.

When I entered the kitchen the next morning, Mom, hearing my footsteps, remained focused on the skillet. Without turning around, she greeted me warmly, “Good morning, Steve.”

My heart quickened as I approached her from behind. Gently resting my hands on her sides, I felt her body momentarily tense at my touch. Leaning in, I nuzzled her hair and pressed a soft kiss to her neck, murmuring, “Good morning, Mom. Breakfast smells delicious.”

“It should,” she replied, her voice slightly unsteady. “It’s your favorite—cheese omelet.”

I breathed a quiet sigh of relief at Mom’s lack of reaction to what I feared might be seen as inappropriate. Moving to the counter, I collected the plates and silverware, arranging them neatly before taking my seat.

When she finished cooking, Mom brought our food to the table, her cheeks noticeably flushed. Despite her rosy complexion, she remained composed, and thankfully, she didn’t mention my actions throughout the meal.

The next morning, I anxiously trotted down the stairs to join Mom. Upon entering the kitchen, I paused, my gaze lingering on the backs of her beautiful legs peeking out from beneath her short robe. My eyes traveled upward, catching sight of her hair tied into a rare ponytail, a style that left the delicate curve of her bare neck exposed.

Moving closer, I held her waist as before but gripped her a little firmer, my fingers digging into the cotton fabric. She gasped and said, “Good morning, sweetie.”

My lips lingered on her hot flesh while I inhaled her fragrant scent. After a moment of savoring the moment, I returned her greeting with a smile, “Morning, Mom. Scrambled eggs today? You’re spoiling me by making my favorites every day.”

“You deserve it with all the hard work you do around here,” she replied, her cheerful tone instantly lifting my spirits. “Go ahead and sit down, enjoy your coffee. I’ve already set the table since I was up earlier than usual.”

Partway through our meal, she asked, “It’s Friday. Where do you want to dine out tonight?”

Remembering Mia’s request, I replied, “If it’s alright with you, I’d rather spend the evening lounging on the couch. Since I don’t study on Friday nights, I’d like to just relax for once. Would that be okay?”

Her smile widened, and she responded warmly, “That sounds perfect. We can watch a couple of movies, and I’ll even bake some brownies for a special treat.”

That evening, I excused myself to my room after dinner; Mia had texted me telling me to call her at seven instead of our usual time. The phone sex was more intense than normal, with the recent memories of Mom and me. Before I could wipe up the puddles of cum, Mia grinned and stated, “Mom tells me you’ve been displaying a little more affection than normal. She couldn’t wait to tell me about you kissing her in the mornings.”

Surprised she already knew, I asked, “She told you?”

“Mom and I have a special bond,” she said with a knowing smile. “Girls tend to share secrets more easily, and we’ve always been open about our feelings. She asked for my opinion on whether she should encourage you to start dating since she’s noticed you’ve been acting a little—assertive.”

“What did you tell her?” I asked, my chest tightening at the possibility she might want me to rein things in.