If you haven't read Chapter 1, the author suggests you take a moment to go back and read it to understand how Joey and his Mom got to this point. All participants in this story are over 21 years of age.
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After our chat at breakfast, Mom and I had a busy day shopping, running errands, paying bills, and cleaning up around the house. As always after a shopping day, Mom prepared a great dinner, and after dinner she went up to change, as usual. I decided to grab a quick shower before changing. I turned the shower off and was stepping out of the shower when the door to the steamy bathroom opened and Mom, wearing her terrycloth robe, walked in.
"Geeze, Mom, you might have knocked!" I scolded as I moved to grab a towel to cover myself with. Evidently she felt there was more license to our new "dating" status than I.
"I brought you a beer," she replied, glancing down at my cock. I had to brush by her to reach the towel, and it would have been normal for her to step back to let me by, but she just stood her ground, holding out the beer and furtively checking me out. I had to squeeze by, brushing up against her. I grabbed a towel but had a better idea before I covered myself with it. Standing, facing her with no embarrassment, I began drying my hair with it. I let the towel fall in front of my face so Mom could take a nice long look without feeling shy about it. I took my time, feeling my cock start to fill with blood as the knowledge that Mom was seeing my cock aroused me.
When I finished drying my hair, she was gone. The funny thing is that I never drink beer after dinner.
When I got downstairs she was already on the couch waiting for me, and I noticed that she was wearing a different negligee again, still tasteful, but definitely more revealing than her usual neck to ankle version. By this time we were watching Shameless from Season 1, Episode 1, and I found our current episode on Netflix.
She cuddled right into me as usual, and we snuggled and caressed all through two episodes. A couple of times she kissed my neck or cheek, and I kissed her back on her forehead. When the second episode was over, she told me to turn it off and I thought we'd get up and go to bed as usual. Instead, she lay back again and pulled me down with her. We repeated the same routine as the night before, her kissing my neck, me returning kisses to her forehead. My cock swelled again, and without my urging Mom pressed her pelvis against it, obviously comfortable with feeling her son's hard cock pressed against her stomach. Every once in a while she would move her hips just a little to create pressure against my hardness, then wriggle her pelvis around, sending waves of pleasure up through my cock and into my brain. I wanted to start dry humping her, I was so turned on, but I was afraid to go too far. I didn't want to sacrifice what we had going on by pushing it too much.
For the next week or so, that became our routine. After dinner we would change and meet on the couch to cuddle and watch a couple of episodes of Shameless, then turn it off and lay on the couch together, cuddling and pushing our private parts together. As the week went on, Mom became better at positioning herself so my hard cock pressed against her mound through the fabric of our nightclothes. Although very subtle at first, by day seven, there was definitely dry-humping going on between us, although that's as far as it went with no climax. She would work her lips and tongue on my neck and I would kiss her forehead while holding and comforting her. Three times that week I listened at Mom's door while she brought herself to her climax alone in her room. Each night I was tempted to open the door and walk in, but couldn't quite work up the courage to do it. The closest I got was when I heard her call out my name, but before I did I thought she might be calling for Big Joey, not little Joey. So I just stood in front of her door, wanking myself while she pleasured herself. During the day we never talked about what was going on between us other than once or twice when she mentioned that she was really feeling good and looking forward to our cuddle that night. I'd tell her I was looking forward to it, too.
In the meantime, she was getting better and better, almost back to her old self. She would leave the house without me now, although she still couldn't quite get herself to park in the underground garage alone. Whoever had assaulted her was still out there, and she feared another attack, as remote a possibility as that probably was. I began thinking I might not go back to Houston, and thoughts of finding a job in Denver and staying close to Mom began to jell in my mind. I wasn't sure I wanted to live so far away from her anymore.
The following Friday we went to the grocery store to buy snacks, brats, and beer for the fun weekend we had planned. On Saturday we were going to a Rockies game at Coors Field and on Sunday we'd stay in all day watching football, eating the snacks and brats, and drinking beer. Saturday was a beautiful fall day, and I had scored some great tickets right behind home plate. We rode the light rail in, and after scanning the passengers for any familiar faces, Mom held my hand and pressed against me as we rode the train. We had a great day at the ballpark, eating hot dogs and peanuts, drinking beer, and enjoying the day together. There was almost never a time when Mom wasn't touching me somehow. Holding on to my arm, holding my hand, just resting her body against mine in our seats. The Rockies won, and after the game I suggested we go to eat at the View House right next to the stadium. We had a couple of drinks along with a great dinner, then got on the light rail for the ride home. Mom again scanned the passengers for familiar faces before moving against me and putting her hand on my thigh. Her hand was resting not 6 inches from my cock the entire ride home and every once in a while she would give my leg a little squeeze. It was driving me crazy and my cock jumped every time she squeezed.
As we rode, I thought about what was going on. Although we didn't acknowledge it with words, there was no denying that our relationship had gone far past the conventional mother/son norm. It amazed me that I felt no regrets or weirdness about it. In fact, I didn't want it to stop. She was my mother, and I loved her, and what we were doing felt completely normal and loving. She was still young, very good looking with a great body, and could pass for being somewhat close to my age. Plus, I had never had these feelings for anyone else. I loved the hugging and snuggling along with the feeling of love and comfort combined with it. I knew that she needed me and I was probably the first man in her life since my father that she could express her love for, and it made her happy. I had nursed her back to mental health, and in doing so, we had discovered new parts of each other. I was beginning to see her as more than just "Mom", I was beginning to see her as a woman, as a human being, and it even dawned on me that I was loving her in a completely new way. I had never before felt the feelings I was having for her. They were new to me, and I liked them.
And she seemed to be enjoying it even more than I. I had always just seen her as Mom, but she was opening up another side of herself that was amazing. I started thinking about actually having sex with her. It was a thought that I had stayed away from mostly, I think, from fear of crossing that taboo barrier. I wondered if that was where this was heading. It just seemed so unreal to be wanting my own mother. But it seemed that she wanted it too.
As I was thinking, I felt Mom's hand slide a little bit up my thigh closer to my bulging cock. She had to know what she was doing.
