A Soccer Mom

I am a soccer mom, hopelessly and forever. It's like I've heard some men say, "Once a Marine, always a Marine". Well it's the same for me. Dean is 23 now and is doing post graduate work at Upton College but I still call myself a soccer mom. He was only 13 when his dad took off and I was left to raise him and his sister Toni on my nurse's salary. We must have gone to scores and scores of games together, mostly here in town but occasionally, and especially at tournament time, to away games in towns nearby. It was a special time in our lives.

Now here we are 10 years later and they're both out of the house. Toni is out on the west coast honing her career and Dean is living the busy life of a popular student at Upton, the good looking (and I mean seriously good looking) co-captain of the soccer club there at school and somehow with all that, managing a girlfriend and a part time job. He has grown up to be quite a man, a big change from the inexperienced little boy he was just five years ago at age 18. I'm proud of him and love him so. I am especially blessed that he remains devoted to me, comes home as often as he can and always without exception, showers me with a son's unflinching affection. I think the other mothers are pretty jealous or at least I hope they are. I so look forward to his visits.

Two weeks ago I was hosting a party for a few of my girlfriends in the neighborhood. We got together like this every 6 weeks or so and pretty much rotated houses in turn. Sally would host, then Regina, then Jeanne and so on. On a roughly 6 week rotation, there being 5 of us, you never had to host more than twice a year. The gatherings weren't formal though we did have a prohibition against jogging suits. This night I'd worn a short black pleated skirt, matching black flats, a white cotton blouse, black bra and my faux pearls. I have pretty long and shapely legs so I like that particular skirt because I think it flatters me. Most of the other girls were dressed in similar fashion; not too overdone, but certainly not drably either.

The one standout was Regina and it was stunningly unusual for her. Normally very fashionably dressed, she wore a common looking calf length grey wool skirt, low heals, a loose fitting crew neck knit top with sleeves pulled up and....very unusual for her...no jewelry and makeup whatever. She also wore no bra and with the big sweater she had on, that wasn't particularly noticeable until she moved or shifted around but when she did there was a great lot of bobbing and bouncing going on inside the front of that sweater. Regina had long been blessed with striking good looks and big boobies but why she'd dressed so out-of-character that night I'll never know; it just sticks in my mind and for more than one reason.

We'd gotten past the prissy hors d'oeuvres and fancy cocktails and had moved on to just plain "drinkin'" as I liked to call it. We all had that in common and their husbands didn't seem to mind. It was just after 8:30 when Dean came in through the front door. He saw the faces of long-time friends, stretched out his arms in a giant gesture of greeting to them and flashed that dazzling smile of his. I heard a small sigh escape from at least one of them and I know her breath caught in her throat...he is that gorgeous. I opened a beer for him and we all sat in the family room laughing at ourselves and firing the occasional question at Dean about life on campus. It was great.

After a little while I asked that Dean and I be excused for a few minutes as there were details in the kitchen that needed his attention. He followed me into the kitchen and as I stood at the counter slicing up a brick of sharp cheddar, I heard him come up behind me and felt the familiar touch of his hands reaching up under my skirt to lower my thong to my knees. I bent slightly forward and, using his hand, he rubbed his cock through the crack in my ass, teasing first at my pussy, then at my asshole. Back and forth, back and forth. It was delicious.

I knew the girls would be waiting on us so I bent slightly further forward, relaxed my anus and invited his penetration. He obliged fully and knowingly. This was my favorite, being ass fucked by Dean and he has told me it is one of his favorites as well. I let him pump me for maybe a minute but asked that he not cum in me now, there'd be plenty of time later. I wore only the thong under my skirt and didn't want his beautiful, creamy man syrup dripping out of my ass and down my leg. He withdrew, my ever obedient son, and I promised with my eyes that this matter would be further taken up later. We smiled, stole a quick kiss and went back to the girls in the family room.

It ended up being quite a night and I'll tell you about that another time but I thought maybe I should explain how Dean and I had come to have such a relationship. You may think of us as weird, of me as perverted or of the whole ordeal as just plain sick. It never was for us. I'm happy to share the story.

Dean was 13 as I said when his father left us. He was very into soccer and had been since the pee wee leagues so at that point it fell to me to become the soccer mom, to help him pick out new gear as he outgrew the old, to have his stuff clean and ready for practice and game days, to shuttle him to and from the field and of course to be the best cheerleader he could imagine. He continued his love for sports through middle school and on into high school where soccer remained one of his favorites.

I loved going to his games and those were great years in our lives. As inevitable and predictable as it might be, however, I was still a little sad when he began to outgrow the things of boyhood. The Mario and Luigi posters had come down and the Power Ranger action figures were gathering dust in a shoebox. He'd always be my adorable son but by the midpoint of his 18th year, I had to concede the fact that he wasn't my little boy any longer. I say this even though he often behaved as though he were still my little boy. I'd characterize this less as things he did than as the way he was...just awfully immature about many social things but especially about girls and the birds and the bees.

Mother nature presses forward nonetheless and it is around that time in a young man's life that he begins to do and notice man things. He was beginning to experience "feelings" as he'd later describe to me, and to sometimes act on them because it made him feel good and indeed, excited. I wasn't surprised to see him jerking off on his bed or in the bathroom a couple of time as I'd get an accidental peek through the door he'd left slightly ajar. I was very surprised however to catch myself on a couple of occasions hoping to get a glimpse. I hadn't thought of him in a sexual way before that but now, once in a while, I was beginning to. And what's weirder, the more often I thought about him that way, the more curious I got and the more I wanted to act out. And I'll confess I was getting a little horny about all this. I decided to do something about it.

One Thursday after practice he had showered and was alone in his room. I knew he often pleasured himself on these occasions. I snuck quietly up the hall, saw that his door was ever-so-slightly ajar and decided to seize the moment. I gave a quick knock on his door and went straight in. He was lying on top of his bed completely naked and was thrashing away on that pole of his like there was no tomorrow. I thought he'd jump out of skin when I came in because for one thing I'd caught him and for another there was no place for him to hide. He was on top of the bed clothes with his own clothes in a heap on the floor. All he could do, poor boy, was cover himself with his hands.

Here he is 18 years old and his mom catches him pounding his whacker and he's got no place to run and hide. In that one respect it was funny but of course not to him. "Geeeze Mom, cripes. I'm sorry." He was so red faced.

"Oh sweetheart, you don't have to be sorry." I quickly moved to the side of his bed and sat down before he could run away. "Honey," I continued, "I imagine you are very embarrassed but please believe Mommy isn't mad or disappointed or anything like that. All men do that and maybe you're too young to know it but it's completely normal. I truly don't mind and I think it's sweet that you are becoming a man and I'm proud of you."

I just sat there looking at his beautiful face and waited to see what he'd do. He just rocked his head back and forth, looking pained and taken aback. I said, "Ok Dean, I'll leave now and let you get back to business. I really want you to pick up where you left off."

He said, "Ok I guess so."

I said, "Guess so nothing young man. You get right back to jerking off or I'm not leaving. Mommy means it." He asked if I really didn't mind him jerking off and I said I wanted him to be as normal as any kid and he could jerk off in front of me any time he wanted. His eyes nearly popped out of his head at that comment.

He said, "Honest Mom, any time I want?"

"Well not at the Wal-Mart for God's sake Dean but yes, anytime we're alone in the house you can jerk off in front of me but you have to clean up any mess you make." I stood there, hands on hips, staring at him and he slowly capitulated. He wrapped one fist around his half flaccid dick and began to work it up and down. I said, "Ok Dean, that's a good boy. Mommy loves you very much." and I turned and left.

I fell back against the door as it closed behind me. I was breathing very hard and my heart was pounding. I had just promoted my son to jack off in front of me and was nearly overtaken by the idea of it. Moreover, though I'd gotten glimpses if his doing the deed through a cracked door a few times, I'd never before had a front row seat and I was totally bowled over at the size of his cock. It was enormous and he was only 18. I've already told you I love a good ass-fucking and I made a resolve then and there that I'd find a way to get that atlas rocked parked in my hanger.

I had another thing going for me. I would often massage Dean's legs and calves after practice because he'd be sore and sometimes cramped. It started innocently enough like when your little child can't yet tie his shoes and you have him sit on the edge of the bed or a chair and you cradle their little foot between your thighs and tie the shoe for them. Well as I was massaging Dean's legs I'd position a chair next to his bed so he could comfortably rest his bare foot in my lap.

After a couple of sessions I began to relax my legs allowing my knees to drift apart and his foot would fall to the chair between my thighs. One day I had held his foot deliberately high on my lap so that when I let it fall through, it would be in contact with my crotch. I had on a pair of thin cotton scrub pants.

I kept on with the massage pretending not to notice but each time I'd reach up higher on his leg I'd be able to press and wiggle myself against his foot. It didn't take long before he started to work his foot into me a little. He was more brazen the next day, flexing and wiggling his bare foot into my crotch and he asked if I could give him a leg massage again the next day after practice. This would be my opening. "Of course honey".

I watched out the window until I saw him headed up the street. I quickly ran to my room, stripped naked, put on my robe and sat on the bed waiting for him to yell up the stairs to me, saying hi and announcing that he was home. I had deliberately left my door open and stood at my dresser pretending to be fixing my hair in the mirror when he came in. "Hi sweetheart, how was practice?"

"Fine but coach really ran us hard and my legs are killing me."

'Perfect answer son' I said to myself. "Go ahead and kick off your shoes and sox and mommy will give those poor tired legs a nice massage".

Having ensured that the robe was only barely closed in front and that the sash was only loosely tied, we assumed our usual position and after a few minutes and I began to spread my knees apart and let his bare foot slowly slip down from my lap, through the parted halves of the front of my robe until it came squarely in direct contact with my pussy. I didn't react and wanted to see what he would do. His eyes got very big and his posture stiffened. I asked what was wrong. "Nothing is wrong," he insisted and I continued the massage.

It was scarcely a minute before his began to wiggle his foot against my cunt. I let that go on for a minute and then pretended suddenly to notice. "Dean, what are you doing down there?"

"Sorry Mom, I didn't mean any harm but it just felt kind of nice."

"Well you caught me by surprise honey but I guess to most guys that would feel kind of nice. That's mommy's pussy. Does it feel good when your foot touches it?"

"I'll say," he replied.

"Would you like to touch it with your hand"? He excitedly said yes of course and so I stood up, held open the bottom half of my robe and spreading my feet a little apart said, "Ok sweetie, go ahead and feel mommy's pussy."

I let him rub his hand on my cunt for a few minutes. I thought he'd grab a quick feel, get self conscious and then back off. No sireee. He kept at it for 3-4 minutes. I was becoming aroused and beginning to get wet but it wasn't time yet in my grand scheme so I said. "Ok honey, that's enough for now. Mommy has to get her shower. You can play with Mommy's pussy tomorrow if you like but I've got to get busy now." He grudgingly said OK, pulled his hand away and I quite proudly said to myself, 'bingo, the hook is set'.

I set the scene in a pretty similar fashion the next day. I wore only the top of my scrubs and a pair of panties. I pretended to be very busily engaged with girlie things at the sink when he came into the bathroom. "Are you busy Mom', he asked?

"Well kind of sweetie, what's up?" The words stuck in his throat but I knew they'd come. After a stammering start he asked if he could play with my pussy. I said, "Of course honey. That's very sweet. You'll have to take Mommy's panties off and reach through from behind though because my hands are wet and you can see I'm about to brush my teeth."

He positioned himself behind me, lowered and removed my panties and I dutifully spread my feet apart and bent over the sink to 'brush my teeth.'

He went straight to work bless his little heart and his other hand was soon busy working his cock. I said, "If you're going to jerk off sweetie, that's fine with Mommy but remember the cleaning up after part. You probably better take off your uniform." He was naked in a nanosecond -- big surprise. He was now fully on the hook and it was time to reel him in.

As he reached through my legs and began to 'play with' my pussy, I was excited beyond imagination. My breaths were coming in short bursts and I fought hard to maintain some faint appearance of nonchalance. His fingers and whole hand explored the surface and folds of my cunt. I was getting wetter and wetter. His wrist and forearm were brushing against my anus as he went about his business. I was in ecstasy.

It took something under 3 minutes (hey, he's only 18) for him to begin displaying all the signs of imminent ejaculation.

He said, "I think I'm going to cum Mom. What do I do?"

I said, "Well go right ahead honey but not on the floor. Try to cum on the top of Mommy's butt at the very bottom of my back." He nearly screamed out as he pumped and spasmed, his enormous load erupting right in the top of my ass crack. My plan was progressing perfectly.

"Oh I'm so happy you are my mom," he said breathlessly. He was red-faced and sweaty.

"Me too sweetie," I said as and I stood up straight to let his man juices drip down my ass crack. "You have to clean up any mess you make though. That was our agreement, do you remember?"

"Ok but what do I do now?"

I was ashamed to catching myself thinking, 'This is too easy. He has the body of a near man, a beautiful big cock and is obviously inexperienced in these matters. It's just too easy', but I had worked and planned long enough and here I was about to bring my plan to fruition. I loved him. He was my son and I wasn't really meaning to disrespect or take advantage of him but I was dying for a good ass fucking and unbeknownst to him, he was very soon to become my young provider.

"Well I'm not sure sweetie, this is pretty new to me too but I tell you what. I'll draw a sink full of warm water and you get your hands soapy and clean me up that way. Let's not bother to dirty a wash cloth." I was filling the sink with warm water as quickly as possible. He was thinking it over but it was really more like his eyes were glazed over. "C'mon and get busy honey, it's already dripped down past Mommy's asshole to her pussy and its starting to go down my leg. Let's get busy young man."

I stepped aside, bent forward over the hamper and spread my feet apart as he began to lather up his hands in the warm water. With his hand full of warm soapy water, he reached through my legs from behind and began to work his hand back and forth, from my asshole to my throbbing cunt and back.

The soapy water, thank goodness, concealed the wetness I was producing on my own -- in great and swelling quantities I might add. I was nearly out of my mind with excitement. I said, "You're doing a good job honey but I think some of your stuff went into mommy's asshole and maybe you should swish one of your soapy fingers around in there a little, just to be sure you got it all."

"Well Ok Mom if you say so".

I reminded him that his finger needed to be slippery with soap and cautioned him that he needed to be careful and go slow.

Again with the, "OK Mom." Gosh I was nuts about this kid.

At any rate, as soon as I sensed he was up to the first knuckle I said, "O shit", gave a small shudder and threw back my head.

"What Mom, what's the matter? Are you OK?'' he said with a great concern and even greater urgency. "Did I hurt you?"

"No honey and Mommy is sorry to use a curse word but that just surprised me. Whew! When you put your finger in Mommy's asshole it felt really, really good and that just caught me off guard, it surprised me so. I'm sorry honey, I didn't mean to startle you but yowee did that ever feel good to Mommy."

"Well that's good, right Mom?" he said, "Would you like me to do that some more?"

"Oh sweetheart, I very much think I would appreciate that...plenty of slippery, soapy water now". He soaped up again and began to press his index finger into my rectum. I laughed softly to myself but enough for him to hear, closed my eyes and purred "hmmmm," again just loud enough for him to hear. I gave him more encouragement and began to allow myself the freedom to let my gathering heat show. I was overwhelmed with passion.

He kept at it though, in spite of my mounting ooohs and ahhhhhs's, the dear sweet obedient boy that his is. "Don't stop Dean, Mommy's going to cum right now. Don't stop honey," and I let out with a cry of pure joy as my orgasm tore through me, through the entirety of me. Involuntarily, I stiffened for a few seconds and then went limp...my legs wobbly and my face red, sweat beads formed at my hair line and under my arms. I was spent.

Dean had stopped by now and I straightened up. I turned and looked at his sweet face and said, "Holy shit sweetheart, sorry again for the cussing but that rocked my world. It was one of the most awesome feelings I've ever had. Back just then, I forgot about being a mommy and just let myself be a woman. We have feelings too just like men do and wow, all I can say is holy shit that was fantastic." I can't say if he was in shock, in awe or what, but he was speechless and breathing very hard....deep heaving breaths. I just hugged him and held on.

We didn't talk about it that night at dinner but later when we were watching TV and Dean had showered and gotten on his PJ's, he sat next to me on the couch in deep thought. I plainly saw his erection pressing at the fabric and I knew something was coming but I just watched TV, pretending to be preoccupied with the show. Finally he said, "Mom, can I ask you something?"