Obsessed Ch 02 Distractions

Note: All characters depicted are at least 18 years of age.

Pulling up to my high school, my mom puts the car in park. I unbuckle my seatbelt and steal a quick glance at her cleavage before looking up at her smiling face. We lean towards each other and exchange pecks on the cheek. Mine, as per usual, planted just off the corner of her lip, whereas hers was smack dab in the middle of my cheek, accompanied by her soft hand gently pulling my face towards her. As we part, she shares another of her priceless smiles, and lays her hand on top of mine.

"Have a good day at school, sweety! I'll see you at home. Oh, I might stay late at the shop, but I'll be home in time for dinner. I love you!"

My mother, always so loving and affectionate. To the point where I imagine anyone else with a normal, non-obsessive relationship with their mother might find it a bit...weird. But I love it! Since I was little, hugs, kisses, cuddles, cheek pinches, and butt taps were a daily reminder that my mom loved me, and I always reciprocated.

Especially now, as it's just us two at home. Nana and Pop have been gone for a few years now. My father, who probably doesn't even know he's a father, or at least was only in my mom's life long enough to make her pregnant with me, has yet to make his appearance in our lives. Mom never went out or anything after I was born. So, between work and me, my mother never made time for anything, or anyone else.

I felt guilty and a little sad, at one point. My mom is the most incredible person I know, and she deserves to find someone that she can share her love with. Now... well, now I feel as though it should be

me

who she gives

all

of her love to. Selfish, I know, but it's something that I keep dreaming about...

----------

Long, dark hair cascading around my face. Warm breath exhaling in short bursts. I take it in as I inhale.

The feeling of nipples, hard and a little rough, dragging over and over on mine. A wonderous kind of friction. The sweet, yet earthy aroma of sex swirling in the room.

Her gasps and little moans hitting my ears in the most pleasant way imaginable. My hands cup her large, round cheeks, squeezing and pushing down as my hips thrust up into her.

I open my eyes, just in time to catch hers. As we stare into one another, she rewards me with a joyous smile. The kind of smile that only shows itself in blissful euphoria.

Thrusting up, I again push her hips down onto me, harder this time, grinding my groin against her swollen clit.

"Mmmn-ah!" She gasps. Smile widening. I grin back, knowing that she is putty in my hands, as much as I am in hers.

Her delicate lips find their way to me. As mine part, she moans into me, grinding against me with long, slow thrusts. I feel the soft fuzz from her short, little patch of hair.

I glide my hands up her back, picking up little droplets of sweat along the way. Tangling my fingers in her hair pulling her tighter to me. Our tongues dancing together.

We've been at this for a while. For how long, I don't know. Nor do I care in the slightest. This is just how we make love. Long, slow, hot, sensual. We have no other appointments to attend to. The chores can wait, they'll be there long after we

think

we're finished. And no one is going to bother us.

All the clothes are off. The bedding barely hanging on. The windows and curtains open to the world as the sunshine and fresh air filter through. I hear the birds singing now and again. A woodpecker in the distance, seemingly trying to encourage me to go faster. I ignore him. This, right here, right now, feels way too fucking good to rush it. I don't want it to end. And by how she's responding to my body pleasuring hers, I know for certain that she doesn't either.

The inner walls of her sex clenching around my hardness as I retract my hips, almost yearning for me to stay, but always glad to relax as she feels me coming back in. Back inside where she knows that for nine months, it was considered my home. Now almost two decades later, I'm home again.

I feel that all familiar feeling down below. The churning, rising flow of what's to come. I look at her with pleading eyes, as if asking permission for my release. Her eyes soften, her smile sweet. She nods.

"Oh honey! I think it's time...go ahead baby!"

Our thrusts are more urgent. Our hands gripping each other's flesh a bit firmer. I feel that final surge...

"Grant? Honey? You in there?"

---------

I feel her hand shaking mine as she reels me back to the now. My head shakes with the dumbfounded realization that I fell deep into another daydream again.

"Hey, space cadet!" She laughs. "I know it's still early for you, but I gotta get going, kiddo." She smiles ever so sweetly at me as I regain my composure.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry, mom. I love you too!" I notice my voice is a little shaky, so I quickly stumble my way out of the car, trying to keep my bag in front of my now tented pants.

"Byyyye!" I hear her chuckle as I closed the door.

As she drives off, I recite my boner-calming mantra in my head, keeping my bag in front of me, pretending I'm trying to look for something inside.

"Breath in...breath out...let it go...let it slow..."

After taking a few slow, somewhat clumsy steps, I am now just semi hard. Well, at least it's down enough to not be super noticeable. I let out another defeated sigh. Looking up ahead to the school entrance, I start to dread how this day will go. I haven't even stepped foot on the grounds, and I already dreamt about fucking my mother. And for the second time just this morning! Fuck!

I quietly grumble as I start dragging my feet to the door. It's going to be a long fucking day.

...

Third period. Advanced Biology class. My teacher: Ms. Lancaster. One of the few incredibly hot teachers in this school. Late twenties, maybe early thirties? I don't know for sure, but that woman both turns me on and terrifies me at the same time. You see, she's a no-nonsense, by the book, almost drill instructor-like, teacher. Her glare is considered lethal by some.

But she's still...so...hot! Even though she's a conservative dresser, her body still shines through whatever she wears. Today, a light grey, long sleeve button up, buttoned up to the very top. A tan pencil skirt that tapers down to bare legs and strappy, tan wedges. French tipped toes to match her French tipped fingers.

Her tits large and in charge. I know it's a dumb saying, but she is very professional and always holds an upright posture. You know, shoulders back, chin held high...chest... out. Ok, you get the idea.

She has long blonde hair that is usually put up. Today, it's in a long pony. She has on her thick, clear frame glasses on, too, accentuating her dark, blue eyes.

We're now twenty minutes into class. The windows are slightly open, and I hear the leaves of the nearby arboretum rolling in the breeze. I try to stay focused. But...that noise, that ocean wave-like noise, it's as if it's calling to me...

----------

The tide rolls lazily over the beach, gently swirling around my toes. No. Our toes. I'm not alone. The sounds of the waves and the breeze are the only things I hear. I feel my feet sinking into the cool, wet sand. But I also feel a soft, warm hand holding mine. We're walking along the beach. The sun washing over my skin. Just skin. Yes, I notice I'm nude.

I finally turn my head to look at who's holding my hand. Oh! She's nude too. Older than me, but not noticeably. Long blonde hair, flowing majestically in the wind. No. Wait. Now she has long, dark hair. I notice her skin is tanner, as well. And she's shorter all of a sudden. She's...she's no longer Ms. Lancaster, but... my mom.

She turns her face towards me smiles at me. I feel my face lift as I return a smile back. I look around. No one else is here. It's just my mother and me...nude...on a beach. Wow...this is...this is nice. Really nice. I smell the fresh, salty air. Refreshing.

I look back towards the beautiful woman holding my hand, and I am just enamored over how elegant and sexy she looks. Even with nothing on, she just looks perfect to me. Her gorgeous dark hair, her all-over tan, those thick, tapering legs.... the cute dimples above her wide, pear-shaped ass...those...big...succulent...tits...

My head starts to feel a little lighter now. I know why. I try to ignore it. I just want to enjoy this wonderful moment. I can feel it bouncing to the left and to the right with each step, though. I push on, trying not to pay any attention to it. It's what it wants.

I feel like I'm winning. We have been walking for a little while since it popped up. But...I feel her hand let go of mine. And instead of pulling it back to her, that hand now finds itself wrapped around the thing I willfully tried to banish.

And it feels...so...so...goooood! She doesn't have to stroke. We're still walking, it's doing the work for her as she just firmly grips it.

I look at her, apologetically. I expect an understanding, sweet look back from her, but instead she has a devilish grin. Her hand gripping me tighter. She winks. CRACK!

-------

"Mr. Hargrove!" Ms. Lancaster calls, slamming a clipboard on her desk.

I knock over my book, and my knee bashes the inside of the desk.

"Welcome back to Advanced Biology, Mr. Hargrove. I've been hailing your attention to the board for longer than necessary. So, if you could please share with the class and myself where you were just now? Clearly the life sciences are not engaging enough for you. So, do tell!" Her hands, balled in tight fists, meet her sexy hips.

I feel

everyone's

eyes on me, hear their snickers. I try to compose myself.

"Um...a beach."

She cocks her head. "A beach?"

"Yeah. It was...nice." I shrug, nonchalantly.

She sighs a bit, placing her hands on her desk as she looks like she's about to pounce on me.

"Mr. Hargrove...I understand this is your last year. It is the same for most of you here. I understand that 'senioritis' is a common ailment among you, but we are less than three weeks into the first semester. I need

all

of you to, please, reign it in! Or else you will be seeing me after class for some much-needed correction. Do I make myself clear?"

She looks around her classroom, that glare of hers silencing any answer besides "Yes, Ms. Lancaster."

"Splendid! Now, with all of your attention back to the matters at hand, let us continue class, shall we?" She ended her question with an annoyed, icy tone.

Well, I for one have readjusted my attention back to her, even if it is drawing me to her tight butt as she writes upon the board. Yeah...she's got my full attention now. Later, the bell rings, and I discover that I didn't take any notes down for that entire class. Shit. Biology homework will be super fun.

...

Hopping off the bus, I start kicking my way down our long, gravel driveway to our home. I glance at the barn to my right and remember that I still have a pair of Pop's binoculars and a couple of towels stowed away up in the loft. Maybe I'll get lucky, and Mom will go for a dip in the pond this weekend.

It wasn't too long ago that I discovered that, when alone, she'd shuck off her bikini or swimsuit or whatever she was wearing and skinny dip. Afterwards, she'd sprawl out in the sun to tan and dry. Hence, why there are now binoculars in the loft of the barn. Perverted? Yes. Am I planning on stopping? Most likely not. Sorry to burst that bubble for ya.

Just the thought of seeing my mother, lying in the soft grass, nude and wet, glistening in the sun, is getting me hard and excited. I quicken my pace to the front porch.

Now inside, I drop my bag by the bench seat, kick off my shoes and make my way to my mother's room. As I walk in, I'm welcomed by the faint, yet pleasant smell of her perfume from this morning. Sweet, with a floral finish to the nose.

I pull out my phone to recheck my messages. She had texted me during lunch, confirming that she'd be staying later at the boutique. I smiled as I now had a solid couple of hours all to myself. I glanced at her bed, and for some reason, got a naughty idea.

I lay down and looked towards the door. Oddly enough, we both knew we each slept nude, but neither of us ever closed our doors all the way. No idea why, it's just how it's always been. No need to question it now, I guess.

From where I lay, it was impossible to see out into the hallway. I got up, smoothed her bedding from the body print I left, and stepped outside. Through the crack in the door, I could just barely see the foot of her bed, and not much else. I pushed the door open a bit more, more than what I remember her leaving it at, at night, and could now see to the middle of it.

I scratch my head, thinking that there must be a better way to get a peek at my mother without pushing the door wide open, exposing myself in the process. Even if the door was wide open, the way her room is laid out, I could only see her bed and nightstands. As I step back, I catch the hinges to my left. I slide over and peer through.

I chuckle to myself. Pulling the door almost shut, I look back through the gap and clearly see her vanity, her dresser, and the entrance to her ensuite. Fantastic! I look up to the ceiling, sending my thanks to Nana for having carpet installed a while back. At first, I thought it would kill the charm and the look of the rich, hardwood flooring, but it also meant our feet didn't freeze in the winter mornings.

And now...I could sneak a peak at my mother in her room with a very low chance of getting caught. For the rest of the time I have, I think I'll see where else I can get a vantage point of my sexy MILF of a mother.

...

There. I discovered a few new hiding places to peak at my mom without getting caught. Some were simple, like just moving over to the kitchen sink when looking out while she tends the garden. The bay window at the breakfast nook doesn't have a screen to obscure the view from the outside. Others, though, could prove challenging, especially if I wanted to watch her in the shower. I never had a reason for going into her room to know whether she keeps the door open or not. Nor do I know how much of her room can be seen through the mirror in there.

As I pad my way to the hall bathroom, aka: my bathroom, to take a shower, I feel a slight pang of guilt. Guilt and just a feeling of creepiness that I spent all my free time trying to find even more ways to ogle my mother, who somehow seems oblivious to how much skin she shows me on a daily basis and the effect it has on me.

I start to feel shame, kicking myself for giving in to my intrusive, perverted thoughts. With the warm water falling on me, I close my eyes and imagine it's washing away the filthy thoughts I've been having of my mom recently. They've been wonderful distractions, but I can't keep thinking of her that way.

Breathing in the steam helps to relax me a little. It's crazy sometimes just how effective breathing can be to help clear your head. As the water envelops me, I start to feel more at ease.

---------

I feel hands gliding over my skin. A woman's hands. One is tracing my collar bone, slowly making its way up my neck. The other gently glides down my stomach, over my now stubbly groin, and grasps my cock.

I let a hard breath out as it makes contact. I then feel nipples and then breasts, pressing into my back. Thick thighs pressing against the backs of mine. The hand on my cock slowly brings it to life as it pulses and thickens in her grip. My eyes are sealed shut, my breathing, once calm and composed, now rough and rapid.

My aching cock is now rock solid. Her hand stroking it slowly. I feel hot breath and soft lips against my back and shoulders.

"Mmmm...is this for mommy? Hmm? Is this big...hard...

throbbing

cock for me, baby? Ohhh my sweet boy! You know just want mommy likes, don't you?"

She starts stroking faster, a whimpering, almost pathetic moan squeaks through my throat.

"Shh, sweety! It's ok! Mommy will take care of this for you. You love it when mommy does this for you, don't you? Mmm...such a good boy you are for mommy. Such...a good...boy!"

A long stroke to emphasize each word. My knees start to shake. My breaths now pleading, moaning whimpers. My balls start to clench.

"Ooooh yesss baby! Mommy's going to make you cum, isn't she? It's ok, sweetheart. Mommy wants it. You going to give it to mommy? Huh? You going to cum for mommy, my sweet boy? Oh yes, go ahead baby. Cum for mommy. Cum for mommy. Let it all out, baby! Cum for me! Cum..."

--------

The front door closes, and my mother's voice follows.

"Hi baby, I'm home! You in the shower?"

My eyes snap open. My chest is heaving. I look down and see my own hand gripping my cock tight while the other is across my chest, almost embracing myself. Jesus, that...felt so real! How did I not notice my own hands?

Footfalls coming up the stairs break me from my line of questioning. I quickly close the shower curtain all the way, knowing my mom will most likely open the door to talk to me. Never mind that I'm naked. It's not like she doesn't respect my privacy, but she also doesn't care if I'm naked in the bathroom getting in or out of the shower... nor does she think that I could be doing something else. That innocent obliviousness she has, you know?

As predicted, the door opens, and I see the silhouette of her head peeking in.

"Hello! Hey, once you get done, would you mind getting a start on dinner, please? I'm going to shower too, and I'll help finish up when I'm done, ok?

With as much composure as I can muster...

"Hey, mom! Yeah, can do."

"Awesome! Thank you! Love you!"

Her head slips back into the hall. The door staying where she left it open.

"Love you too!" I call back.

I look down, my hand is still wrapped around my now softening cock. I let go and plant my head, hard, against the tile. Fuck me...I need to reign it in.