Since my parents divorced I've moved around a lot with my Mom, so far I've lived in the houses of 4 of her "new" husbands until they became "ex" husbands too, and by the time I turned 19 I made her promise not to even bother introducing me to her boyfriends, if it wasn't going to last, and let's face it the odds were stacked that way, then I didn't need to even acknowledge his passing.
In the style of most reasonably well off divorcee single mothers, my Mom had a habit of giving me exactly what I wanted more often than not, and so it was that we had "our" house and she only ever visited her new men at theirs.
Without wanting to sound arrogant I need to let you know a little about the sexual history of our little family before I get into this one memory in particular. My Mom is a stunning woman, not tall, but thanks to her die-hard exercise regimes she has stayed as fit and toned as when she was a state representative in High School Tennis. Plus, the subtlety dressed cleavage from her generous bosom is a sure fire way of getting the attention of men the world over. Mom has always been very popular with guys, and she has the dazzling smile and self-assured sense of humour that comes with it, even when discussing sex openly with me. Growing up around her, the apple didn't fall far from the tree, and the open talks about sex still didn't come early enough as I lost my virginity to older girls within a month of beginning puberty.
The relationship that we have is a very close one, we have fought a lot in the past, and as a teenager I know I used fights to try to get my way wielding the divorce like a weapon against her, but it is safe to say that especially now that I've grown up into quite a solid guy, I am very protective of her and she still thinks I'm the most perfect person on the face of the earth. It's nice.
That relationship took a bizarre twist recently however, we were living in our house on the coast, Mom was visiting her current boyfriend most nights and I had a girl that I was sharing my own bed with regularly too. As much as Mom tried to hint that she was a lovely girl that I shouldn't risk losing, I wasn't even going to entertain the thought of a relationship beyond casual sex, and that subject usually led to me trying to find some way of teasing Mom in return.
Playing on her libido seemed like an effective way of doing just that, using the fact that I was getting sex in her house and she couldn't to really get under her skin and change the subject until she was the one needing to walk away.
I know, sometimes children can be cruel. But in our relationship, Mom loved me too much not to just take my cheekiness with a grain of salt and have a long hot "shower" to ease her discomfort.
I felt like king of the world those nights.
Two weeks ago I started taking it too far, enjoying the power of actually winning a verbal joust with Mom so much that I would persuade Lisa, my gorgeously leggy but none too intelligent blonde "lover", to give me blowjobs in the living room on nights that I knew Mom would be coming home. I don't know for sure, but seeing the look of silent shock and envy on my Mom's flushed face upon seeing me sitting there on the sofa facing her, my arms behind my head as Lisa's blonde ponytail slurped and bobbed on my throbbing cock probably tipped me to blow my load down Lisa's throat sooner than usual.
No doubt knowing that it was me being a brat, Mom never interrupted or made things awkward while Lisa was around, and so I continued, walking from the shower with my erection out in the cool air and giving Lisa loud orgasms (not that this particular girl had any other kind) with the door open just enough for the sound to carry down the hallway.
I was winning, and considering how sharp witted and confident my Mom had always been, this was a rare feeling that I wasn't just savouring, but relishing to excess.
Within three nights, although I only recognise it now, Mom started fighting back in her own way.
First of all she stopped showing any shock or jealousy of my overt sexual activity, instead smiling knowingly and giving me encouragement. This on its own disappointed me, but even without the victorious feeling of making her uncomfortable, the new sensation of having approval to get laid all over the house was thrilling of its own right.
Secondly I started to notice Mom as a woman more and more, her perfectly shaped ass raised in an inviting yoga position when I walked into the living room, her dark nipples hard against the thin material of her nightie as she came into my room to talk to me about seemingly irrelevant things, and even dropping her towel a split second before entering her bedroom giving me not enough of a look to see her entire body before the door closed.
Just because I was getting sex in the house didn't mean I wasn't frustratingly horny the rest of the time, and I didn't even know she was doing it on purpose yet.
The next turning point was a conversation I'll never forget over breakfast, and although I was every bit as self-assured going into it, I realise now that my confidence is only as strong as Mom wants it to be.
As usual Mom was up early, soft cotton mini-shorts and a nice blue tank top showing off both her fitness and her curves, 38D breasts with hips to match, as she prepared some muesli and yoghurt for breakfast. I staggered into the kitchen topless, just my boxer-briefs between my morning glory and the morning air and slid onto one of the stools at the kitchen counter.
"Good morning Matthew" she practically chirped, her energy making me feel lazy before I'd even said a word.
"Sure is, I'm a free man." I announced, and Mom immediately turned back to me for an explanation.
"No more Lisa, I told her last night that she was getting too attached, so I'm good to go again, starting today." Mom's obvious frustration at my "objectification" of women had long since ceased showing outwardly on her face, but she raised an eyebrow about some hidden thought and brushed past me to sit outside in the sun to eat.
I poured myself a glass of milk and followed her onto the balcony.
"You seem fine with the news, Mom. I thought you said you liked her?"
She just smiled knowingly up at me and gestured for me to sit.
"Yes Matt, she was a lovely girl, but I knew she wasn't the one for you, so there isn't much point getting upset over the inevitable is there."
This wasn't the reaction I had been looking for, so I pressed on,
"How do you know she wasn't the one for me?"
"Mother's know these things" she teased
"Oh ok then, Mother," I mocked, "What sort of girl is right for me then?"
Without a hesitation she smiled in a way that really annoyed me, and simply said something about leaving that for me to find out for myself.
"See! You don't know shit about it; you just don't want to admit that I'm more in control of my life than you are!" The words were a classic outburst, meant with complete sincerity but only because I was too annoyed to be thinking with any sort of sense.
Mom took it all with good grace and put down her spoon, turning in her chair to look me in the eyes with her baby blues, a gentle smile and a reassuring hand on my knee accompanying her 'wise words'.
