I was sound asleep in my apartment when I was awakened by the click of a key in the door lock. I knew who it was immediately, only one other person had a key to my apartment. That was confirmed when I heard high heeled shoes clicking on the hardwood floor.
"Hi baby, are you awake?" She sat on the edge of my bed and turned on the small lamp on the nightstand. I could tell from her voice that she had been drinking. Mother did not hold her liquor well and this was typical. "Would you like some company tonight?"
I propped myself up on one elbow as she leaned down to kiss me. I could taste the whiskey on her lips.
"Of course mom, you're always welcome here."
****
Mom had always been good to me as I was growing up. She worked a job that kept us fed and clothed. We lived in my grandparents' house which she inherited after they died. She made sure that I did my homework and that I went to school on time. She was a good mother, but she had this lust within her to seek out excitement without the control to tell her when the party was over. Because of that, my birth certificate lists my father as "unknown". As a child, I was frequently awakened in the middle of the night by her headboard banging against the wall between our rooms accompanied by her moans and cries as she was being serviced by yet another loser from the parade of losers she would bring home after a night of drinking. She had the sex drive of a mink but, to me, that was just the way mom was.
As I sat eating my corn flakes in the morning, she would appear wrapped up in her bathrobe, looking like the wreckage after a storm. Following close behind would be some pot-bellied, homeless-looking guy who was too embarrassed to even speak to me as he dashed for the door. Then she would pour herself a cup of coffee and sit there looking like 'death warmed over' while she nursed her cup. We would sit in silence because I had learned that she had no interest in conversation while the hangover was raging. After she finished her coffee, she would return to her bed for several more hours until the hangover had run its course. Usually by mid-afternoon things were back to normal and my mother was back.
It was after I had graduated from high school and was in technical college that she started to come to my room. I suppose I was nineteen, maybe twenty years old. She would come in while I was sleeping and slide into bed with me. For as strange as that was at first, I found that I liked having her warm body against mine on those cold nights in our drafty old house. I would often wake up in the night with my arm around her and my hand holding her breast. My hard cock would be pressed tightly against her ass which encouraged me to squirm because it felt so good when I did.
Then one night, as I was rubbing my hard cock against her, her hand gripped mine on her breast and her hips began to work against me. Soft moans escaped her lips, becoming gradually louder until she rolled over. I was startled when her lips found mine in the darkness, but they were so soft and her body felt so good that I wrapped her up in my arms with unexpected passion. Once her hand found my hard cock, all thoughts of resistance to her simply vaporized.
After that first night, I became her 'go to' guy, experiencing frequent visits by her or invitations to join her in her bed. During those times she taught me how to pleasure her in multiple ways and in multiple positions. I learned to see my mother as an adult woman rather than as the mother who had dressed me and sent me off to school when I was little.
Once I finished my schooling and had a job, I realized that it was time to move out and live life on my own. With no one else in the house, I guess the loneliness set in on my mother and she returned to her old ways of drinking and seeking out men to try to meet her needs. Occasionally that would not work out for her, and her desires would bring her to me. That was when I would hear her key in the lock of my apartment.
****
As I woke up, I could see her put her purse on the nightstand and kick off her shoes. I sat up and slid over beside her. She stood up with her back to me. She lifted her hair and said, "Please." I knew what she wanted and was excited to do it.
Standing up behind her, I unhooked the small hook at the back of her dress and pulled down the long zipper. Just the sound of that long zipper would trigger my response. If I was not already hard from sleeping, pulling down that zipper to reveal her flesh was more than enough to make my cock swell.
Despite her rough lifestyle, mother still looked good. Somehow she had remained slender, her legs looking long and her ass shapely atop the pointy high heels that she wore. Her long black hair fell to her shoulders in soft waves, somehow avoiding the streaks of grey that were often typical for women her age. When she was attracted to a man, her eyes would sparkle and her smile was magnetic. Those would fade when she had been drinking, but then the raw lust that was a part of her would surface. That was the side of her I was seeing more and more often.
I held her hand as she stepped out of her dress, carefully folding it and putting it on a nearby chair. When she turned back to me, I had to admit to still being excited by seeing her standing there in her black bra and panties with her dark stockings. Her bra barely contained the full breasts that bulged conspicuously out of the fabric. Her eyes flashed and she smiled when she noticed me staring at her, my cock pushing out the front of my pajamas.
"You still like looking at me. Even after all these years, I still do it for you."
Even through her drunken haze there was still a sparkle in her eyes and that smile that made me melt.
"Yea, you still look good mom."
She walked toward me like a hungry tigress approaching a wounded antelope.
"I can see your appreciation." Her hand reached down to wrap around the projection from my pajamas. "It's long...and it's hard...and I need it tonight."
I stood frozen as she released my cock and pulled my pajamas off of my hips. They fell in a heap around my ankles. Her hand again wrapped around my cock, this time her other hand massaged my balls.
"Tonight I was dancing with two young guys. They spent the evening competing to see which of them could compliment me more. They were actually funny as they struggled to seduce me. It was flattering and I was anticipating a night of non-stop, tag team sex that would last until I tired of them and threw them out. I was so wet, expecting hands and lips all over my body for hour after hour. Then another young man comes to the table and, just for a moment, I pictured having three. It was such a delicious dream. Then one of my young men excuses himself and went away with that guy. Soon my last guy says that he is going to get us drinks. As I sit waiting by myself, I look over to see him and the other two leaving with two giggly girls. Baby, I was crushed. I just cannot be alone tonight."
"It's all right mom, you don't have to be alone. You never have to be alone." Years ago my mother's phobia about being alone would drive me crazy. Her habit of bringing home scruffy looking guys in dirty blue jeans and flannel shirts was embarrassing and made me angry until I understood. As I grew older, I began to understand my mother, and once we started making love, life became quieter and more rational. I also learned that I enjoyed making love with her.
Mother released me and sat on the bed to remove her stockings. That gave me a moment to pick up my pajamas and hang them on the bedpost before sitting beside her. Even watching her remove her stockings was extremely erotic for me. Watching her hold up each leg before rolling down her stockings and then pulling them off of her feet was like watching a ballet that made my cock sizzle. She opened her purse and took out a small bottle before putting her stockings inside.
