Let me start by telling you about my mother. Her name is Brenda and she taught the third grade at a nearby school. She was thirty-eight, then, but she looked younger. Outwardly, at least, she was very conservative, very proper, exactly as a teacher of eight and nine year old children should be. But I always thought there was another side to her.
She had shoulder length, honey blond hair which she normally wore up, in a bun, on the back of her head. Her face was very pretty, large, blue eyes, a small nose and a sensual mouth.
She had a good figure but her conservative clothes, loose fitting tops and long skirts, kept it hidden. She had a slim build and her breasts were small. Her waist was slender and her hips were narrow. She had a flat stomach and a rounded ass. Her legs were sleekly muscled
She always wore nylons, usually pantyhose, but I occasionally noticed she was wearing stockings that stopped at mid-thigh and were held up by garters.
One afternoon, while my mother was out shopping, I went into the laundry room, looking for my favorite sweatshirt. I did not find my sweatshirt but, looking in the washer, I did find a white garter belt and a black one, as well as a green, yellow, orange and blue thongs. I also found two bras, one red and one black, both made of lace with the tips of the bra removed. I wondered what the parents of the children my mother taught would do if they knew what she was wearing under her prim outfits.
I think I had always been sexually attracted to my mother. I read that it was almost normal for teen-aged boys but I was no longer a teen-ager. I was twenty years old, about to start my third year of college, but thinking about my mother, wearing that sexy underwear under her clothes, made me very aroused. I spent that night, and several nights afterward, fantasizing and masturbating.
It was the end of Christmas break. I would be returning to school the next day. That night, I was at home, sitting next to my mother on the couch, watching T.V. My dad had to get up at five A.M. for work so he was already in bed. My sister was at work. She worked at a fast food restaurant and did not get off until eleven. After three years of summer vacations, Thanksgiving and Christmas breaks, my going back to school was no longer a big deal. My mother would drop me off at the airport and that was that.
At ten-thirty, my mother said, "Its been a long day. I'm going to go to bed." As usual, she had already changed into her nightgown, a pink, oversized T-shirt, covered by a pale blue robe which she buttoned from the hem to the neck.
"We're leaving for the airport at ten, right?" my mother asked.
"My flight is at eleven thirty," I told her.
Are you all packed?" she asked.
"Ready to go," I told her.
"Don't stay up too late," she said.
My mother leaned towards me, to give me a goodnight kiss, and what happened next just happened. I did not plan it and I did not think about it. I just did it.
I draped my left arm around her shoulders and before she could react, I pulled her close to me and pressed my lips on her's. At the same time, with my right hand, I cupped her firm, braless breast.
"Oh my god," mom gasped, jerking her head away but not doing anything about my arm around her shoulders or my hand on her breast. "What are you doing?"
"I'm sorry," I told her, "but I've wanted to do this for a long time." I could not read her expression. I couldn't tell if she was going to kiss me or kick me. "If you want me to stop, I will"
"No," mom said, covering my hand with her's, "don't stop. It feels good."
I pulled her to me and kissed her again. Nervously, I slipped my tongue between her lips. She tightened her grip on my hand, pressing it harder against her breast, as she opened her mouth and gave me her tongue.
Our tongues explored the inside of each other's mouth. My mother loosened her grip on my hand and let me play with her breasts. As I did, I moved my head and began kissing her neck.
"Oh, god," she groaned, moving even closer, " that feels so good."
"Take your robe off," I said.
