I'm just an average guy. I graduated from college, got a job, and now my life is mired in what I always hated to see in my parents - the grind of daily existence. I get up in the morning, go to work, return to my apartment, and then do the same thing the next day. On the weekends I go home sometimes, and hang out with my friends. I don't even date anymore. I mean, with all the, ahem, media available for stimulation, why go to all the trouble to get involved with someone. I don't want anyone. I'm not happy, but kind of stuck.
That's not to say I don't "want" anyone. There is one woman I have wanted since I can remember. My Mom, Lisa. She drives me crazy. She has no idea. I try not to be obvious, but when she's around I can't keep my eyes off her. I don't think she has noticed, and I know Dad hasn't - he's clueless.
She may not be the beauty she once was, but she's plenty hot in my eyes. She still treats me like I'm nine, though. She thinks nothing of running from the bathroom to her bedroom in nothing but her robe, and those magnificent tits seem to have a life of their own. It's like they're calling me, "Chris, Chris, come suck us!" Like I say, she has no idea.
So what am I supposed to do? She's always wanting to hug me, and push her tits against me. I do the best I can. I stand about a foot away from her when she does that, when what I really want to do is hug her and then bury my face in her breasts. A couple of months ago she was standing in the kitchen when I went in to get a beer. When I walked by her, I rubbed my hand across her ass, and she almost jumped out of her clothes. If only! She didn't say anything, and I didn't say anything, but I know it made her a little angry. I couldn't help it. I got away with it, I guess, because she didn't tell Dad, either. The rest of the day, I couldn't help it, I was rude to her. I guess I was resentful that what I wanted I couldn't have. It probably hurt her feelings, and I'm sorry for that.
About three weeks ago, I was home for the weekend and Dad had gone away for a golf tournament. If I had tits and an ass like that at home, I know where I'd spend all my time, but he loves his golf. Mom was working in her garden on Saturday morning, and woke me up to help her. I'm not a morning person at best, and all I wanted to do was lay in bed. The last thing I wanted to do was grub in the dirt with her.
But that day! Once I got my eyes open and looked at her, I was all in for whatever grubbing she wanted. She had on a light blouse and shorts, and if she was wearing a bra it must have been one of those thin jogging bras. I could see her nipples, and even the dark outline of her areolas. Or is it, areolae? Doesn't matter, it was all I needed for inspiration.
We went to the kitchen so I could get jumpstarted with a cup of coffee. Mom poured it for me while I sat at the table. I couldn't take my eyes off her luscious ass in those shorts as she got a cup out of the cupboard. She had to stretch up on her toes, and the shorts stretched across her ass. "Dammit," I thought to myself. "Does she have no idea what she does to me?"
She brought me the coffee, and bent over as she sat it in front of me. Maybe the Pope wouldn't have looked down her blouse, but I doubt it and, anyway, I'm not the Pope. She did have on a sports bra, but I could clearly see the outline of her nipples. They were standing out, hard, and I couldn't help but wonder why. I guessed she must have been outside and got a chill, or something, but I didn't care. They were beautiful.
I still remember once, when I was in high school, barging into her bedroom while she was getting dressed. She was just putting on her bra, and turned toward me as I rushed in. I forget what I wanted, but I got more than I bargained for. Her hands flew to cover her breasts, but I got a good look, and I've never forgotten it. And today I was getting another look, not as good as before, but still.
She got herself a cup, again stretching up to reach it, and sat at the head of the table, diagonally across from me. She leaned forward, resting her breasts on her hands, and asked me something. I didn't even hear what she said, my blood was rushing so. "Chris? Are you listening? I'm up here, Honey."
I blushed, I know. "What? Uh, I was just thinking."
"Yeah, and I know what you were thinking!" She laughed, a throaty laugh she has that drives me insane. "You men are all alike, aren't you?"
That shook me. She just acknowledged that I was checking out her tits, and she wasn't mad. Was she flirting with me? If she were any other woman, that's what I'd think. But she was Mom. Mom's don't flirt, do they?
We talked for awhile as we drank our coffee. As much as I tried to stop it, my eyes kept darting down to check out those tits. Several times, as I raised my eyes to her face to say something to her, there was a small smile on her lips. Yep. She knew what I was doing, and she was definitely flirting.
After we finished the coffee, she took me out in the yard. "There," she said, pointing to a corner of the yard against the fence. "There is where I need a hole. Can you give me a hole there, Christopher?" She giggled.
I wanted to say something about how I wanted her hole, any one of them, but I didn't. That might get me the shovel she was holding out to me, and right across my head. While I dug her hole, sizing it for the root ball of the little maple she had bought, she puttered in her flower beds.
She was on her hands and knees, weeding the garden and trimming flowers. She was facing away from me, so I positioned myself so I could watch her as I dug. The shorts had ridden up her butt, and I could see the outline of her pussy as the shorts strained against it. Where do you think my mind went? Of course. All I could think of was mounting her from behind, and driving my dick into that sweet pussy.
She was oblivious. She had no idea. She was working in her flowers, probably thinking of nothing but them, and all I could think of was her pussy and ass. Well, and her tits, too. They were hanging down as she worked, swaying gently from side to side as she tugged at the weeds.
An hour before, all I wanted was to stay in bed. Now, I thought I was in heaven. The only thing that would have made it better would have been for her to be naked in front of me. Since I knew I'd never get that, what I was getting was a close second.
We worked all morning, and I have to admit I was a little sore by the time we finished. She had me dig the first hole, then a second for a spruce fir she had bought, and then she had me weed her flower bed beside her. Weeding beside her was even better than digging holes behind her, because I got several good looks down her blouse. She had to see me looking, but she said nothing.
When we finally finished, we went in to clean up. Mom went to her room to shower, and I went to mine. I changed to a pair of athletic shorts and tee shirt, and went to the kitchen to see if I could rustle up some lunch. When I got there, Mom was already making sandwiches. She had on her robe and, I'll swear to God, it didn't look like she had anything on under it. Her tits were swinging free. They weren't as pert and upright as I remembered from the time I saw her, but her robe didn't leave much to the imagination and they looked great to me.
"Honey, you want to make your Mom happy?"
"Hell, yes," I thought. "I'd do anything right now to make you happy."
But that's not what I said. "Sure, Mom. Depends on what it is."
"Sarah and Victoria wanted to have a cookout tonight at Sarah's. Will you go with us? I think Jim and Billy will be there."
"Sure. Sounds like fun." It didn't sound like much fun. I knew the conversation would eventually get around to the fact that Jim, Bill, and I were losers, with no goals and no ambition. That was a recurrent theme, seemed like. But, since I'd probably be hanging with them anyway, what else could I say?