Note: The following story is entirely fictional and all of the characters are over 18 years of age.
*
My name is Miguel and I live with my mother in the city of Boston. My father passed away when I was quite young and the two of us have been on our own for as long as I can remember. This past summer, I graduated from high school and turned eighteen.
One Friday night, I heard the key in the front door and I went out to greet my mother, returning from her job as the manager of a department store in town.
My mother is a beautiful woman. Not tall at 5' 3", but well proportioned. She has long brown hair that she usually wears up for work. She is extremely style conscious. Her clothes always fit her slim figure very well. Having had me at the age of nineteen, my mom was 37 this past summer.
As she opened the door, she looked exhausted, as usual, but also very stressed.
"Mom, what's wrong?" I asked.
"Wait until I tell you" she replied.
Mom put down her things and headed for the kitchen. On this occasion, she was wearing a light blue silk blouse and matching skirt. As usual, she was wearing high heels, probably a little too sexy for work, but that was her style. The skirt was just short enough to show off her gorgeous legs. She had on her trademark loop earrings, and she rattled her bracelets as she reached down for the whiskey.
"This is going to be good" I thought.
After pouring herself a stiff drink, we returned to the living room where my mother settled into her favorite chair. I took a chair opposite her. As mom drank, I noticed that because of how she was sitting, the space between two buttons on her blouse had popped open. I was able to see a bit of her white bra and right breast.
"It was close to closing time" she began. "Your Aunt Carla and I were working together. There was almost no one in the store, except for this strange guy, probably about your age, maybe a little older. He didn't seem to be looking at anything except for your aunt and myself. I finally went over to him and said 'Store's closing.' He shrugged and said, 'The clock says you don't close for another fifteen minutes.' Then he asked where the restroom was. I showed him, thinking that would probably get rid of him."
At this point my mother finished her drink, left, and returned with another.
"After about ten minutes, Carla and I had finished wrapping things up when we realized we didn't know what had happened to the guy. Carla thought he may have gone out the back door, but we had to make sure. I went down the hall to the restrooms, and I tapped on the Men's room door. I didn't hear anything, but I could see that the light was still on and I needed to shut it off before I left."
Mom paused and closed her eyes.
"I pushed open the door and then I saw him. The guy. Standing in the middle of the restroom, eyes closed, with his dick in his hand, stroking it. When I opened the door, he opened his eyes and stared straight at me. I know I opened my mouth in shock but I couldn't tear my eyes away from his dick. Suddenly, he 'finished.' Then, without a word he pulled up his pants, sneered at me and pushed past me on his way out the back door."
