Loving Mom; Loving Son

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I recently wrote up the following, but the events all occurred in late 2008, 12 years ago. I wrote this with the encouragement of mom — and my wife — two of the world’s most amazing women.

December 2008:

Mom is not just hot, she is, provably, beautiful. At 5ft 10in and still weighing in at around 120lbs, she is the perfect height and has a perfect figure for modelling clothes. Not only that, but I know she wears 34DD bras, so she is tall, slim and carries an enviable stack. She also has naturally blonde, naturally wavy hair, piercing dark blue eyes and full red lips in a heart-shaped face.

OK, that is all my opinion — so the proof?

Back when she was 18, her first job was modelling casual wear for a local mail order catalogue. 6 months later, she was head hunted to model casual wear, nightwear and lingerie for a bigger, national mail order catalogue and she has been modelling for them ever since, adding Lycra sportswear to her range when that became popular.

At 48 she still occasionally models for them, though now it is more on-line than printed catalogue, but she still has the figure to show off whatever she wears and make other women want to buy — especially now that women her age have moved into the Lycra day wear ranges.

You have your proof. Nobody models for a national mail order and on-line chain unless they are beautiful and to model for them for nearly 30 years is additional proof.

But, let one of my girlfriends have the last word on mom’s beauty. We were both second years at college when she came to ours to stay over and, once when we were alone, she said:

“Jake, you know I’m straight, right? I just have to say that your mom is so sexy, I get wet just listening to her talk and, when she looks into my eyes, I almost come. I could change my ways if she crooked her finger and asked me to bed.”

To top it off, mom graduated in law “summa cum laude”, at a top university and, this year, was made a senior partner at her law firm.

So, she is beautiful, intelligent, and very smart and I just cannot figure why dad left back in January. Even I could see there had been something wrong but, after 26 years together, they could surely have sorted things out? Neither he nor mom have been willing to explain, but dad has always said it was his choice, not mom’s choice, and that he would explain, one day.

So, who am I?

Well, I am Jake.

Born almost 25 years ago and built like my dad, at 6ft 3in and 220lbs. Like him, I played football for my high school and am in the football squad at my university, though I am studying aeronautical engineering, whereas he, like mom, had studied law.

Today is a mid-December Friday, I have been back from university for 3 days and mom is heading off to the senior partners Christmas meal. No husbands or wives, just the firm’s senior partners and one or two special invitees. She hadn’t seemed thrilled at the prospect of going but saw it as a duty and said she was going to really dress up, for the first time since dad walked out on her.

Mom had been a special invitee last year and that was where she was told that she would become a senior partner with effect from 1st January. Massively increased responsibility but a 50% increase in her salary and she would receive a bigger annual share allocation. I had never seen her so excited after she came home that night but, for some reason, dad did not seem as pleased and, a month later, he was gone.

Tonight, I am just chilling at home, waiting for all the old gang to get back in town, so we can party “like it’s 1999”. As I’m in my last year and have been studying hard, I’ve sort of kept clear of emotional entanglements and haven’t had a girlfriend since the summer break. So, I’m here alone, hoping the old gang still wants to get together, as Christmas approaches.

I heard mom coming down the stairs. I know she’ll want to know how she looks, so I jump up and stand over by the window as she makes her entrance.


That was all I could say when she walked in. Beautiful is a given, with mom, but tonight she was extra especially beautiful. Her hair, her make-up, her dress, her shoes were all fabulous and she looked the proverbial million dollars. Open mouthed I looked her up and down, then down and up, then slowly back up and down. As I gazed, intently, I was sure I could see her nipples hardening and lengthening to show clearly through her silk blouse.

“Mom, you look stunning, lovely, beautiful — all those words ten times over. You look perfect, absolutely perfect. And sexy! Jeez, if you are ever stuck for a date, you only have to ask me. I would be the proudest man on earth, walking into somewhere with you on my arm. You would be a perfect hot date.”

“Jake! Thank you. A little over the top, maybe, but you are very sweet, and I know I’m just your old mom, but it always makes a girl happy to be complimented so nicely.”

“Old mom? No way! You are beautiful and you look so young, nobody would imagine you have a 24yr old Lefkoşa Escort son. My future girlfriends will have such a hard time competing with you.”

“Well, thank you, but that sounds like my taxi so I’ll be off. No need to wait up, it may be a late one.”

“Whoa. Have you got an after-dinner date?”

“I wish. It is just that those old guys play hard ball and the first to leave is a cissy! See you in the morning.”

With that, she was gone. Her perfume lingered in the air and my mind replayed her look as she had stood by the door. Was it just my imagination, or, as I scanned up and down then back again, had her nipples really started to show through her blouse? I know she likes underwired, soft cup bras and I have noticed her nipples before, when she came in from the cold or was excited about something.

It was warm in here, so had she been excited about my obvious appreciation of how she looked?

By now, I was rock hard, tenting out my shorts and, with nothing else planned, it seemed like a good time to re-visit mom’s lingerie drawer and the washing hamper.

Some hours later, I was sat on my bed, reading a book on aeronautical development (yes, I’m a geek) when I heard a car pull up outside. It was only 11:30, which seemed early for mom to be getting back, but it was a taxi and, as I looked through my window, I saw mom get out, quickly followed by the driver. I heard her say that she didn’t need his help, but he came up close behind her and said something, but I couldn’t hear what he said.

Quickly, I rushed down and opened the front door. There was clearly an argument about to start but, when he saw me — 6ft 2in and 220lbs – he just turned and left.

Mom literally threw herself at me and held me tight.

“Thank God you were here. I have had the most awful night and that creep would have tried to rape me, I’m sure.”

With that, my smart, intelligent and tough mom started to cry and the only thing I could do was carry her to the living room and sit her in my lap as I tried to comfort her and stop the tears. After a few minutes, when she had calmed down, she sat up and said: “I’m going to get some wine”.

She came back in, poured two glasses and surprised me with “Can I sit back on your knee? It made me feel safer than I have for years” and, without waiting for an answer, she gently lowered herself, flicking out the back hem of her skirt, as she sat down and wriggled around to get herself comfortable.

We sat quietly and I asked why the night had been so awful.

“The Christmas meal is when they invite partners who they are going to promote to senior partner. It is a massive achievement, and I was so excited when I was invited last year. I think your dad knew more about it than me and he wasn’t happy, feeling that the expanded role would be too much for me.

“Little did I know what that extended role would include — but I think your dad may have known.

“We re-started on the first Monday of the New Year and, the very next day, I received a message from Masterson’s secretary that he wanted to speak to me about my new responsibilities and she asked me to hang around until he called, but that it may be late. I let your dad know and told him to get home; I’d see him later.

“It was after 7 when Masterson called me and asked me to come up to his office. It was a bit strange, because he’d called himself and, when I got up there, his outer office was empty.”

“Is Masterson the one you call The Creep?”

“Yes, and soon you’ll know why.

“I knocked and went in, he gave me a glass of champagne, sat me down on his big, very comfortable sofa — then he went out and locked the door to the outer office, came back in and locked his office door. He smiled and said that he just wanted to make sure we would not be disturbed.

“He was charm personified. We chatted, drank champagne. He complimented me on my appointment, said how impressed he had been by my successes. He made me laugh — but then he added that it was a bonus to have such an attractive member in his top team, which I thought was a bit of a weird thing to say, and the look in his eyes when he said it was very direct.

“He then said the other senior members had been unsure about appointing me but that he had, eventually, persuaded them to allow my appointment on the grounds that he would, personally, assist my progress.

“Then he said that, as he was going to help me, he would hope that I would help him. When I asked how, he just smiled and said he thought we could find something I could help with.”

“This is sounding creepy, mom. Isn’t Masterson ancient?”

“Not quite ancient. He is in his seventies, very grey haired but attractive, with a good figure, still standing tall and, if I was older — a lot older — I could see myself being attracted to him. His patrician charm and his abundant wealth would make him a good catch if, as I said, you were old enough.

“Anyway, back to the office: He held out Girne Escort his hand, stood me up and walked through the office, along a short passage and into a room with a hot tub. He said this was where he liked to relax, and he’d like me to help him relax.

“I just stood still. I couldn’t speak. I was horrified and I didn’t know what to do. He slowly started undressing himself, focussing his eyes on mine, willing me to undress myself. Eventually he was naked and, God help me, he was erect with, I hate to say it, a very impressive cock. He took hold of it, smiled and stroked it a few times. Pre-cum bubbled out of the slit and he moved toward me.

“Oh, my God, mom. What did you do?”

“I wanted to be strong. So, as calmly as I could, I just said I was sorry, but that I was happily married and that I would not be able to provide the help he wanted. I put down the champagne flute, turned round and walked away from him. As I reached the door, I turned and told him that, in all other respects, I would work to make sure he never regretted appointing me. Then I walked out”

“Well done, mom. That must have been weird.”



“I am your mom.”

“Yes, I know. Why say that?”

“Because, you have an erection, and I don’t feel that is appropriate. Do you?”

“Sorry, mom, I hoped you hadn’t noticed. But, as well as being my mom, you are a fabulously attractive woman, who smells divine and who is sat in my lap, telling me a dirty story, with just some wispy cloth between you and me. There are some things a horny young guy just can’t control — but I’m sorry if I’ve offended you.”

“Did I say I was offended? Have I stood up? Have I slapped your face? No, no, no. All I said was that it is inappropriate. But it’s there and you’ve explained why. So, let me explain why tonight was such a disaster.”

Amazingly, she stayed, sat on my knee, her sex right over my swelling cock.

“The one invitee to tonight’s meal was a very smart, very bright, very successful partner called Ruth Goldstein, who is about 10 years older than me, and, just before the meal started, Masterson announced that she would become a senior partner on 1st January. So, well done Ruth.

“Later on, Masterson cornered me and said that he was impressed that I had been so successful this year — even without his help — and that he had never regretted making me a senior partner.

“He then smiled and said that Ruth had already shown her willingness to help him, so he felt she would do very well. He then said that, with his help, I could do even better and, knowing your dad had left, he wondered if I might reconsider helping him.”

“Jeez. Why didn’t he just ask you for a fuck?”

“Exactly. Anyway, I thanked him but said I would try to do my best without his help.

“All through the evening, he kept staring at me and smiling weirdly. At one point, staring straight at me, he slid his finger in and out of his mouth. I became really unsettled and decided I would rather be the first to leave and be this year’s cissy.

“I was clearly upset and, of course, that fucking taxi driver thought he was going to be the one to cheer me up. But, instead, I’ve had you to cheer me up. Even though you still have a most inappropriate and still growing erection that has got me horny as hell.

“Now I am off to my pit, and I’ll leave you to sort yourself out but, before I go, just one final thing. Please could you kiss me? Not a “Goodnight mom” kiss. A proper kiss like you’d give your girlfriend.”

And then we were kissing, properly. She was frenzied, our tongues thrashing about, her sex squirming about on my erection, until she suddenly broke off, stood up, and walked out and up the stairs without a word and without a backward glance.

Not wanting to follow her up the stairs right away, I dropped my shorts, which had a damp patch, from her pussy juices, and took hold of my cock. The shaft was solid and straight, the head a dark swollen purple, a stream of pre-cum bubbling out. I wiped it off and licked the clear salty goo from my fingers before stroking myself to one of my quickest ejaculations ever, spunk flying up over my t-shirt, some hitting my chin. If I’d opened my mouth and leant forward, I’m sure it would have hit the back of my throat.

I gave it half an hour, then walked up the stairs. Mom’s door was shut and there was no light from under it, so I assumed she was asleep. Ten minutes later, I was asleep too and didn’t wake until late the next morning.

I showered, dressed in clean shorts and t-shirt, then stripped my bed and took my laundry down. There was a note on the kitchen table:

Good morning, lazybones. My laundry is already in. Just off to the shops. I’ll cook lasagne for tea tonight. We need to talk! I know it’s Saturday, but please don’t make any plans to go out. Xxx

I grabbed some cereals, sorted out the laundry, tidied my room a little and heard my phone ping. A message from mom, saying “Change of Magosa Escort plan but keep your evening free”

I replied: “Are you giving me any clues?”


So, I hung around, messaged high school friends, watched TV, did some research for my course, snacked a little until, at just after 5 o’clock, mom returned, carrying lots of bags, large and small.

“Coffee or wine?” I asked.

“Ooooh. For now, I think coffee, thanks.”

Having made us both a coffee, I set down the mugs and asked if she was going to tell me what plans she had for tonight.

“Yes, but give me a minute to put my thoughts in order.

“Jake, I want to thank you for last night. You cannot imagine how much better you made me feel about myself. Right from your reaction, about how I’d looked, to when you averted the potential trouble with the taxi driver, to your tender care when I was a sobbing mess and, to be totally honest, when it turned sexy and you kissed me.

“Your dad and I have had problems for years — low key and laughed off to begin with, but more serious as time went on. He hadn’t hugged me like you did for 2 or 3 years; if I’d been a sobbing mess, he would have taken that to show how strong he was and how weak I was and, as for your erection, well, your dad and I hadn’t had sex for over 12 months by the time he left.

“Everything you did and said last night — and I mean everything — made me feel better about myself and increased my self-worth. So, tonight, I want to say: “Thank you” and, if you’ll have me, tonight, I’m going to be your date.”

“Mom, I meant what I said last night. I would be the proudest man on earth having you on my arm as we walk in somewhere. So, if you want to be my date, I’m all up for it. BUT — I feel now would be a good time for you to say what was wrong between you and dad.”


“Physically, you and he are very alike. Both 6ft 2in, both around 220lbs, both play ball, both very intelligent and both very good looking.

“Emotionally, you are totally different. Dad is a prime example of the Alpha Male who wants to dominate situations and people. That attracted me to him, when we first met during the induction at Masterson’s, and for years afterwards, but, when his career didn’t go the way he wanted, he became frustrated, especially as my career was flourishing. He is a decent solicitor and can bully and dominate smaller clients, but that doesn’t work with the big corporate clients, you need more subtlety, and he just didn’t have that extra layer.

“The final straw for him was me being made a senior partner — he couldn’t be an Alpha Male to me if I earned more than double what he earned. Also, he’d heard rumours that it would entail more than just legal work — and we now know he was right — and he decided he didn’t want to have to compete with me, or with Masterson and his big cock. So, he left me, and he left Masterson’s and is doing OK, I believe. I do hope he is happier than he was that last 3 or 4 years. That is it, really.”

“Thank you” I replied. “I had felt a bit of an atmosphere, occasionally, but, as neither of you said anything and as I was a teenager, more interested in myself, I just ignored it. I can now see it must have been difficult for you.”

“OK, enough of all that. It is date night for me, and this will be my first for years.

“Tonight I am taking you to the Country Club, where we have a table for a “Taster Meal”. 12 courses with a small drink for each course and they’ll have a jazz combo playing, so we’ll be able to dance between courses. I have always wanted to go to one of these nights, but your dad would never take me. And, yes, I know you don’t know how to dance but all you need to do is hold me close and sway around the floor a bit. That’s all you need to do. Trust me, you will love it.”

“Mom, I don’t have any clothes suitable for the Country Club.”

“You do now. That is what took me so long. I’ve bought you jacket and trousers, two shirts, two ties and proper polished shoes. You will look fabulous, and every woman there will envy me.”

“Now, I need to take some time to get myself ready, so I am off upstairs. The taxi is booked for 6:45. See you soon.”

She was off, running up the stairs, giggling to herself, carrying a couple of the smaller bags. I checked out the other bags and, as she said, I had a whole new wardrobe, unlike any clothes I had ever worn.

I dressed and looked in my full-length mirror, where I had a shock. 20 some years ago, mom and dad were photographed as they walked into the Country Club, with mom a good 6 months pregnant and dad dressed in similar fashion to me today. I could have been his 20-year-younger twin. The photo would be downstairs, on the bookshelves.

So, at 6:30, I was downstairs, dressed and ready to go, but a little nervous. I had checked the photo and I am definitely my dad’s son. I heard mom coming down the stairs and, again, waited for her to make her entrance.

“Oh my. Mom, I don’t know how you do it but you look even more beautiful, even more sexy, than you did last night. How is that possible?”

“I didn’t really want to go last night, but tonight is different. This is my date night, and I am excited about it. Not only that, but just look at the handsome man I’m dating. Gosh, that look takes me back.”

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