Back In The Day 4

Author's Note:

This story is based on a time in my life when I was pretty confused. I found my parents' porn stash and sex toys as a young man, and I've always wondered if that set me down the road to being a pervy guy. It definitely gave me a strange attraction to my mother. This story is a tale of what could have been, if my fantasies about my mother had come true. It takes place in the late 1980s, early 1990s.

*****

My parents were always affectionate in front of us. They must have had quite a few date nights, because we were shipped off to the grandparents for the weekend a lot when we were young. We seemed like a normal nuclear family of the 1980s, except for the fact that my father wasn't around a lot because he worked rotating shifts: 6 months of regulars, 6 months of evenings, and 6 months of overnights. He also worked many 6-day weeks. So, dad wasn't around much. My brother wasn't around much either. He was 4 years older, and if he wasn't out with his friends, he was locked away in his room doing god knows what. That left me and my mom hanging out together a lot. I wasn't a momma's boy, per se, but we were close.

I was curious, and kind of sneaky, like a lot of teenage boys, which eventually led me to going into my parents' room and checking their drawers and things. There was nothing sexual about it at the time. I think it was just about spying on that secret, forbidden adult world. As I said, my parents seemed very normal. My dad was mostly at work. My mother mostly read romance novels or watched TV when she wasn't cleaning the house or doing laundry. She almost never drank. It just wasn't her thing. She's always said she doesn't like the feeling of being out of control.

Mom worked too, so I was a latch-key kid, which gave me ample time to toss my parents' room when I was curious and bored, but I only ever found boring stuff. It wasn't until my senior year in high school that I found something interesting. I did the same with my friend John, who lived with his mother and stepfather. They had a huge collection of porn (his stepdad rented VHS tapes and copied them), but in the bedroom we found sex toys and a leather paddle that John's stepdad must have used on his mom. He was pretty embarrassed, but we all got a good laugh out of it. We also enjoyed hanging out and watching their porn tapes.

So, I was inspired. Surely my "normal" parents must have something interesting hidden. I didn't find anything at first, but thinking back now I realize I had some kind of abnormal interest in my mother, because I took my time going through her bras and panties. She had a lot of sexy, frilly stuff. Victoria's Secret stuff, not boring mom underwear. By that point, I was already jerking off to the Victoria's Secret catalogs that regularly came in the mail. Jill Goodacre was a favorite back in the day. My initial searches didn't turn up much of interest, beyond my mother's bras. My dad had a cool knife in his bedside table drawer, that was about it. I kept looking.

I hit pay dirt in the back of their closet. My other had one of those shoe rack things that hangs from the bar in the closet. Behind it, she had her fancier lingerie. The first thing I saw was a lacy white bodysuit thing that would have pushed up my mother's already-awesome breasts. She also had a black teddy thing, and purple thing that was transparent. I couldn't help picturing my mother in that lingerie, making me harder than I'd ever been in my life. It was weird thing, getting hard over my mother, but I just sort of took the feeling in stride. I was still a virgin. I'd fooled around with half a dozen girls, but I wasn't able to close the deal, not yet.

In the very back corner of the closet sat a fake leather travel bag. I pulled it out and opened it up as I sat on the floor. There was a collection of paperbacks and a couple VHS tapes. I set the tapes aside and reached farther into the bag. In the bottom was an object wrapped in a hand towel. It was a vibrator. Nothing crazy, like the giant dildo my friend John's mother had, but a standard, hard-plastic, tapered white vibrator, with a dial on the end. I turned it on accidentally and nearly dropped the thing. Okay, so mom had a vibrator. That was cool. My parents weren't boring after all. But it was the books that really made my eyes widen. The fact that my parents even had dirty books meant that either one of them, or both of them, visited adult bookstores. The thought of my pretty, suburban mom going into an adult bookstore by herself makes me hard even thinking about it. I know every guy in there wanted to fuck her, and a couple even propositioned her. I can get some interesting fantasies going there.

I knew what

Playboy

and

Penthouse

were, of course. My parents, especially my mother, were never uptight about sex or nudity. Mom was not uptight about walking around the house partially clothed, even when we were teenagers. Mom had nice, big tits that swayed freely under her nightgowns and didn't hide her excited nipples. In the summer, she tended to wear shorty nightgowns, and she wasn't always so careful about being covered up. More than once, I stole a peek at her fire crotch. I didn't really think much about it—not until she became so sexualized in my eyes.

I should describe my mother. She was around 40 at this point, having had my brother when she was 20, and me at 25. Mom was more cute than gorgeous, kind of a mom. Hard to see her from an outside point of view, I guess. But it's undeniable that she had a smoking body. Tall, 5'9", with killer curves. Her tits were a nice 36C—still nice and perky—and she had a nice heart-shaped ass. She had great long legs, which I love to look at when I see her in old pictures and she's wearing those minidresses of the 70s. Mom had reddish-blonde hair, which she kept in a short bob, in the style of the day. I don't know if any friends had crushes, but it was hard not to notice her tits if she wore the right top.

Back to the dirty books. Some were about wild, swinging couples, or girls who couldn't say no, but several of them were about incest. I couldn't believe it! Normal porn I could understand, but this stuff was out there. And this was in a bag with my mother's vibrator. It wasn't like my dad had this stuff to beat off to. My parents were either watching and reading this stuff together, or my mother was reading dirty incest books and fucking herself with her toy. Those old Harlequin books she liked had pretty racy sex scenes too. Apparently, my mother had a rather dirty mind. In the porn stash, there was a book about an aunt and nephew, but the others were all mother and son stories. No father-daughter or brother-sister stuff. That got my mind working.

Once I was past the shock of the dirty books, I took the VHS tapes into the den to see what they were about. As a horny 18-year-old, I was much more interested in watching something than reading something. The tapes were unlabeled dubs, so I had to pop them into the VCR to see what was on them. It shouldn't be a shock at this point, but one of the movies was

Taboo

, that incest, mother-son, porn classic. It's funny how crazed people get about incest porn now (disguising it as step-porn), when

Taboo

was one of the most popular porn movies ever made.

My parents' porn became my jerk off stash. I was always very careful to rewind their tapes back to the point where they left them, and I made sure I put that bag back exactly as I found it. I did start reading the books, and getting off to them. All of that led me to start fantasizing about my mother. Dirty, dirty fantasies. I would hold her lingerie, especially were bras, in my hand while I took care of myself.

Over time, I became less careful. I took books out of the bag and stashed them in my room. I also took bras out of the laundry, fondled them as a jerked off, and held onto them. The plan was to put them back before my mother noticed they were gone—that didn't always happen. Mom was an avid cleaner, and she would find where I hid the books and her bras. She never said anything. She just took them back. The porn stash moved a couple times, but I always found it hidden in their bedroom.

I started having vivid sexual dreams about my mother. A common one involved the shower. We had one full bathroom in the house, downstairs. If it was early and we were still asleep, or if it was late, Mom would leave the bathroom door open to let the steam out. In my dream I walk into that steamy bathroom and slip into the shower with my mother. I start caressing her from behind, massaging her big, slick breasts. Mom moans and leans back into me at first, maybe thinking I'm my dad. But I'm about 6' tall and stocky. Dad was lean and shorter. Mom turns and is shocked to see me. I grab her, kiss her. She struggles against me, but it's no use. She starts kissing me back, her arms go around me. I'm free to touch her body. I can't get enough of her tits, rubbing those thick nipples I've seen through her nightgown so many times. Her red bush is trimmed back, and I rub that too, feeling her pussy. In the dream, we leave the shower, Mom lays me on her bed, and fucks me. Her tits sway over me as she rides me. Her moans are loud and over the top—like in the porn movies I've seen. We come together, and then we snuggle in bed.

There were other dreams, but that was the one that always stuck with me. I began to look at my mother differently. My secret knowledge made we question all those times we were laying on her bed watching TV together. Was my mother really so careless about her short nightgowns, or was she trying to show me something? Was she really so careless leaving the bathroom door open when she showered, or her bedroom door when she dressed, knowing I was home? I'd seen my mother in her bra enough times, and now I focused on that when I beat off.

Despite my weird desires, everything was normal between me and my mother for a long time. I had girlfriends that last year in high school, got my release that way. I finally lost my virginity. I'd still hang with my mom and watch TV, even snuggling up on the bed sometimes. If I felt myself getting hard from being so close to Mom, I'd try and hide my erection. I'll admit, I did get a little handsy with her. I touched and hugged Mom a lot more. Sometimes my hands crept close to her tits, but I never had the nerve to pull the trigger. Another thing I did was sneak downstairs in the middle of the night and spy on her. My parents slept naked, but as I said, my father wasn't there a lot because of work. On warm summer nights, I'd sneak downstairs and go into my parents' room. If I was lucky, my mother had thrown off the sheet as she tossed and turned in her sleep. Only a little light came in through the curtains, but if I was lucky I could get a glimpse of her tits, or her sweet ass. The lighting wasn't good, so I couldn't make out details, but it was enough for my fevered teenage mind. I always ran upstairs afterward, thinking about the things I wished I did to my mother.

My dad left shortly after I started college. It turns out he wasn't only working all those nights he wasn't home. That was the turning point in my relationship with my mother. My brother had already moved out, getting an apartment with friends, so it was me and Mom alone in the house together. We shared a lot of meals, just the 2 of us, we went to the movies, hung out and watched TV. I felt bad leaving her home alone, so we hung out a lot together if I wasn't working or with my girlfriend. Luckily Jen, my girlfriend, was understanding. Even though I had a regular girlfriend—and regular sex—and I still fantasized about my mother a lot. Being alone with her so often didn't help. I had a lot of what if... scenarios in my head.

I still occasionally checked out my mother's room, and found a second toy, a little clit stimulator had been added. And the toys were now in her nightstand drawer, not hidden in the closet. That wasn't the only thing that kept my interest going. The porn was still there, too. Either they shared it, and Dad just left it behind, or it was my mother's stuff. I also occasionally found one of the dirty paperbacks tucked under the bed. The books cycled—it wasn't always the same one—which meant Mom was actively using them. Mom wanted them close at hand when she needed them. I also found even sexier bras in her drawer, sheer, lacy things that weren't practical at all, but would be great if she was on a date. Mom did start dating, but she never brought any men around. It was weird when I knew she was out with a man. I have to admit I was jealous. If I was home when she came in late, I'd stay quiet upstairs, listening to hear if she was alone. She always was.

The first time I heard my mother masturbating was after one of her dates. I heard her come home then silence. Her room was on the first floor, and mine was directly above it. It would concern my girlfriend when we had sex that my mother had to hear it, but I always told her she was being silly. Mom may have heard, but I didn't care. I was trying to get laid. Anyway, after a while, I crept downstairs, thinking maybe I'd get a glimpse of my mother changing out of her date clothes. She'd cover up, of course, but not before I'd see something. Jen was away with girlfriends for the weekend, so I was pretty horny.

I crept down those steps as quietly as could be. It must have taken me 10 minutes to get downstairs, through the living room, and into that hallway. The door to Mom's room was closed, which was highly unusual. I paused outside, considering knocking, and that's when I heard the buzzing. I was just a couple weeks from graduating high school at that point—a sexually curious 18-year-old who knew the sound of a vibrator when he heard one.

I was frozen in the hallway, transfixed by that soft buzzing on the other side of the door. The blood rushed to my dick so fast I think I felt faint. I slowly became aware of soft moans accompanying the buzzing. It was the fucking hottest thing I'd ever heard. I leaned against the wall, but my hand in my shorts, and started jerking off. Mom's moans on the other side of the door gradually got louder, coming faster. Speaking of coming, I finished in record time, far more quickly than my mother. Luckily, I can be very quiet. I stayed in the hallway and waited until she finished too. There was just a sharp little cry, and then silence when she switched off the toy.

It would be great to say that I snuck up and listened in on my mother masturbating every night, or at least after every date, but I didn't. I'm guessing she started getting laid. If I was dating my mom, I'd want to fuck her, but she still didn't bring any men home, and it wasn't the sort of thing she was going to talk to her son about. It was months before I caught my mother masturbating again. That night changed everything.

In the interim, I managed to wreck my car, an early 80s Mustang, so I was back to walking, taking public transit, or borrowing my girlfriend's car. It was late summer, and I was due to start college in a few weeks. I was going local, so I would be staying home. Jen had been over that night, and we took advantage of my mother being out by openly fucking all night. Jen liked it best when she didn't have to keep quiet. By the time mom rolled in, a little after 2, Jen was gone, having to work early in the morning. Since I no longer had a car, she had no indication whether I was home or not. Usually, my TV was on, or I left some lights on downstairs, but I'd turned off most of the lights when Jen left, and I was upstairs listening to my Walkman. I only knew Mom was home because I saw her car through the window when I got up to use the bathroom.

I was left sexually satisfied by Jen, but I just couldn't help myself. Mom had certainly been on a date, since she was coming home so late. Just like I had so many times before, I silently crept down those stairs like a ninja and moved through the living room. The light was on in the kitchen, casting a glow down the hallway. When I peeked around the corner, I saw the door open to Mom's bedroom. I was disappointed. She probably wasn't masturbating. I didn't know how long she'd been home, and since she left on the light in the kitchen, I hoped maybe I'd at least catch her changing. It had been a few months with I walked in on my mother changing. She had just come home from work that day, and I caught her in slacks and a navy-blue bra, fringed with lace, that pushed her tits together nicely. I could lose myself in that cleavage. I focused on the little bow in the middle, like if that popped free her tits would burst out. Anyway, I needed a fix, so I quietly moved into the hallway.

As I got closer, I heard that familiar buzzing again. Even though I'd fucked my girlfriend 3 times earlier that night, my balls started tingling and my cock stiffened in my pants. Ah, the resilience of an 18-year-old! I padded down the carpeted hallway, keeping silent, and paused just outside Mom's door. Dim light came in through the doorway. The buzzing was much clearer with the bedroom door open. I could hear the way the sound changed as Mom worked it on her cunt. Breathy moans floated on the air under the buzzing of the vibrator. Mom was getting herself excited. I heard a low, throaty moan, and I couldn't resist any longer. I had to try and see.

I peeked around the doorframe, tense as a piano wire. It was like I was expecting to get punched the second I exposed myself. It was crazy. If Mom was looking, there was no way I'd be able to jerk back quickly enough to avoid being seen. Once I was out there, I was exposed. There was no hiding. I think I even closed my eyes as I moved, defeating the purpose.

Mom lay on her side of the bed. It was funny how she still stuck to one side of the bed, even though it was all hers now. It was a queen-sized four-poster bed, with a high footboard, and I higher dark chestnut headboard. The lamp on her nightstand was turned on, casting a warm glow over her body. My mother was nude. As a redhead, her skin was fair, and it seemed to glow under the lamp light. Her long legs were stretched out, and slightly parted. Mom's big, creamy breasts flowed to her sides, rising and falling with her labored breath. She was in her early 40s, and still in great shape. Her eyes were closed. Her lips parted as shivery breaths escaped them. Mom held the vibrator in her right hand, working it in tight little circles at her pussy. She used her left hand to hold her lips open. Her body trembled, and her hips moved slightly, like she wanted to fuck the toy.

I was stunned. Never did I think I'd see something like that. My brain short circuited for a second, and I almost pulled away. That was my mother on that bed, and what I was seeing was so wrong. A boy should never see his mother like that. And yet, it was what I'd been waiting for. How many times had I pictured this very scene? Seeing my mother in the flesh was way better than anything I'd imagined. Mom was a beautiful woman, and seeing her ecstasy was an amazing thing.

Mom kept working that vibrator, and her moans grew louder. She slid her free hand upward and massaged her tits. Mom pinched a thick, pale pink nipple, and I thought I would die. I wasn't even touching myself, but I don't know why I didn't just come in my pants on the spot. The vision of my mother playing with herself was hotter than any porn I'd ever seen.

God, I wanted her. I wanted to rush into that bedroom and pull the vibrator away—replace it with my cock. Mom was so ready there was no way she'd try to stop me. She obviously needed to be fucked, and I knew she'd welcome my young cock. At the very least, I could go in there and take over with the toy, making my mother come by my hand. I had a vibrator I used with my girlfriend, Jen. I couldn't resist getting one to use on her after being so familiar with my mother's.