Like most normal men, I've had fantasies about having sex with my mother. They began as a kid. Mom was a pretty woman and she had that certain something which we refer to as sexuality. There was something sexual about her. My friends always seemed to have the hots for her and, as I grew older, I noticed that lots of men found her attractive. My fantasies about her sort of went on the back burner as I grew up. After I had my first experience with an older woman, those fantasies returned. I'd often think of some way that I could somehow entice my mother into bed with me, but I just never had the nerve to go through with them. As I reached my late 30's, I assumed that I would never have the opportunity. That all changed recently.

I'm 43 and Mom is 66. She's still quite attractive and keeps herself in good shape, although she certainly does show signs of aging. Being attracted to older women only makes her more desirable to me. though. Anyway, Mom has been a widow for several years and, although she could probably have her pick of men to marry, she has not. I think she still feels some sort of loyalty to my father. Anyway, there was some family function scheduled in another part of the country which we were invited to. Since she lives only about 2 hours or so from me, I had asked her if she would like to go with me to the affair. She agreed that we should and I told her that since we had to fly all the way to the West Coast (we live in Florida), that we should take an extra day or two and stop over in Chicago (we both knew people there and I thought it might be nice to see them). She agreed once more and I told her I would take care of the arrangements.

It was late when we arrived in Chicago and it was raining cats and dogs. We grabbed a cab to the hotel and went in to register. As fate would have it, there was some convention going on and the place was packed. When I asked for our rooms, they told me I had only made a reservation for one room, Mr. and Mrs. ****. I had asked for a room for Mr. ***and Mrs. ***. They mistook that, figuring that we were a married couple and wanted just one room. I acted angry, but my heart was pounding inside. "Okay," I said, "Mistakes can happen. Just give me another room." "I'm sorry, sir," The clerk replied, "but there are no empty rooms. I looked at Mom,who was pretty annoyed. I turned to the clerk and asked if the room had twin beds. "No, sir. Just one King size bed." I looked back at her, she shrugged her shoulders as if to say, "What can we do?" It was pouring out and it was late. We didn't want to start hassling with finding another hotel, so I told the clerk that we would take the room.I was ecstatic and tried to hold that feeling inside.

We got up to the room, tossed our baggage to the floor and I instinctively turned on the TV. I felt a sense of uncomfortableness on Mom's part and, indeed, on mine as well. My head was racing, filled only with thoughts of how this scene was going to play out. This was my big chance and I figured if it didn't happen this night, it never would.

"Are you hungry, Mom?" I asked her as she was opening up one of her bags.

"Starved." She answered without looking up.

"I'll call room service. I'm too tired to go out."

"Good idea, hon." She continued foraging through her bag.

I asked her what she wanted and placed the order. I sat down on the bed and declared that it seemed pretty comfortable. We exchanged a rather strange glance as Mom was heading to the bathroom to put some stuff in there. It was a very mixed feeling a got from that look. I wasn't certain, but I lead myself to believe that it was sort of saying, "Well, here we are in a room and we were going to sleep in the same bed. Maybe this could turn into something." I mean, I knew she was aware of the situation and all, but I wondered if there was any thought at all about sex in her mind. She was my mother, for Christ sakes. I didn't care. I was going to try.

Dinner came up quickly and we sat by the TV eating quickly. Geraldo was on TV and he was talking about the JonBenet Ramsey case. At one point he mentioned the word incest and I glanced over at Mom quickly. She had been watching me and as soon as our eyes met, they quickly turned away. I really felt that incest was on her mind. At least I hoped it was. We finished dinner and Mom said she was tired and was going to go into the bathroom to wash up and get ready for bed. I sat in the chair, thinking of my mother getting undressed in the next room and getting ready to go to bed with me, her son. She came out of the bathroom wearing a nightgown. I guess I was staring a little too hard.

"What are you staring at, Steven?"

"I, uh, well can't a stare at a good looking woman?"

"Oh, you!" She laughed. "Are you coming to bed?" She realized what she had said and laughed.

"Listen to me!" I smiled at her warmly. There was definitely something in the air.

"Mom, I don't sleep in pajamas, you know. I don't even have any with me."

She thought for a moment and answered me. "Well, I think I can handle seeing my son in his underwear." She smiled. I went into the bathroom and washed up, taking off my clothes, except for my underwear. The problem was, I had a hard on. How was I going to walk out nonchalantly and face my mother with this hard on? It took me awhile, but I managed to get it down, at least a little bit. I hoped that the lights were off so that she wouldn't see when I walked out. I opened the door and the lights WERE out, but the light from the TV provided just enough light for her to see me. As soon as I opened the door, my dick rose high once more. I just couldn't help it. I tried to hide it as I made my way to the bed. Mom was watching me every step of the way, though, and I know she saw it. She didn't say anything as I slipped beneath the covers.

There we were! Mom and son, lying in bed together. Now what? Surprisingly, Mom took care of that. "I got myself comfortable while Mom acted as if she were watching TV and paying no mind to me lying there in my underwear next to her. There was about a foot or two of space between us.

"So what is that all about, young man?" Mom asked me point blank.

"What is what all about?" I was a little embarrassed.

"Do I really have to tell you?"

I turned towards her, decreasing the space between us by about half. The kidding had stopped and I turned serious as I looked her in her beautiful, hazel eyes. "I suppose it's perfectly normal when you are in bed with a beautiful woman."

"Steven!" she seemed shocked. "I'm your mother, for God's sake."

"And you're beautiful." I interrupted her.

She turned sideways to me, a look of concern spreading across her face. "Are you telling me that you want to make love to your mother?"

"I'm telling you that there isn't anything I'd rather do more." Her mouth opened in disbelief at what she had just heard. There was silence. It couldn't have lasted more than a few seconds, but to me it seemed like forever. I slid my hand, which was beneath the covers, towards her, seeking out her hand. I grasped her fingers and held them tightly. I moved my body closer to her. She squeezed my hand back.

"Steven, Steven...I...I don't know..." I stopped her in mid sentence, placing two fingers across her pursed lips. "It's right, Mom. I KNOW it's right." I tried to assure her. My heart was literally pounding with anticipation. I was so afraid that she would turn me away and a lifelong fantasy was about to be torn asunder. What I didn't know at that moment was that Mom, too, had had these thoughts as well. If only one of us had said or done something years earlier, we could have been lovers for so much longer! I cupped my hand behind Mom's silver/blond head. I moved my head to her, my lips ready to press against hers. I waited for some sign of refusal, but there was none. Our eyes were locked on one another's. It was a magical moment as our lips finally met as lovers after so many, many years. It was a warm, deep, soulful, incredibly passionate kiss so filled with emotion unlike any kiss I've ever experienced. That one kiss unleashed a passion within my mother that filled me with shock. As she told me later, she hadn't slept with a man since my father died.

One long, deep kiss. Many short, pecking, loving kisses on the face, the chin, the neck. There are two ways one can make love with another person. The first, and most unenjoyable, is for the lovemaking to be a constant struggle of trying to understand and feel what your partner wants or likes. The second and, unfortunately, the one we seem to experience less, is when the two lovers are of one mind. Everything is right and everything just seems so normal and easy. Mom and I were the latter, only tenfold. I suppose that part of the reason is that we were always so much alike. I'm much more like her than my father, although I look more like he did.