Mom and son are stranded at the airport

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“It’s me, sweetie. Here, I got you a toothbrush. I’m putting it on the sink with some of my stuff.”

Through the semi-transparent curtain, I watched her silhouette walk back and forth across the bathroom. I wondered if she could see me naked. Once I was done, and mom already in the shower, I sat on bed and watched some news about the weather. While my eyes were on the screen, my ears were listening to the sound of running water, and my mind picturing nude images.

When mom got out I noticed her crestfallen look and teary eyes. “Mom, what’s wrong?”

“Oh, I was just thinking about your grandpa Paul,” she said in a depressed voice. “He was a good man.”

“He sure was mom,” I said, remembering the kind, gentle old face. “He sure was.”

“It’s just that these kind of things get to me, you know—death I mean. Makes me remember my own father. Pity you never met him, Danny. I’m sure you would have loved him.” She reached down and stroked my cheek tenderly.

A sense of guilt crept into me. Here was my mother feeling sentimental about the loved ones she’d lost; meanwhile all I could think about was her body. I stood up and gave her a hug, as my own way of expressing repentance.

“I love you mom.”

“Oh Danny, I love you too.”

We ordered some food and talked, about school, about dad and grandpa Paul, about myself, about herself. Our conversations cheered her up a bit, and it felt nice to reconnect with my mother like this. Finally bedtime came.

“Mom you can take the bed and I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah I’ll be fine,” I tried to act like I liked the floor.

“Nonsense. Just a while ago you were complaining about your neck. Don’t act all manly on me now.”

“Aww, mom. I’m not a kid anymore. Let me make a little sacrifice for you.”

She was touched by my gallantry. “Oh Danny, honey, that’s so sweet of you, and I appreciate it, I really do,” she said, giving me an affectionate hug. “But I’m the mother here. If anything I should be the one taking care of you. Come on, I think there’s enough room for both of us. Keep your old mom company.”

“You’re not old!” I blurted out.

“I’m forty-three, you know.”

“Still, you’re one of the best looking woman I know.”

She blushed and for a moment looked somewhat troubled. She probably remembered the pantie she had found in my room. Remembering it also made me blush.

Finally she said, “Why, thank you sweetheart…” Then a little awkwardly, “Well, let’s tuck in?”

I took off my robe and climbed into bed with my boxers and a t-shirt on. Mom, I noticed, had purchased a Chicago White Sox T-shirt that was many times bigger than her own size. It fell on her mid thighs and gave me an ample view to those shapely legs. As she got in I couldn’t fail to notice how her breasts swung freely under the baggy shirt, indicating she had no bra on. Blood once again rushed to my dick.

“Good night,” she said and leaned over to give me a kiss on the forehead. As she did I almost wanted to ravage her neck. It was fairly exposed because of her short hair, smooth and very seductive, like the rest of her body.

“Good night mom.”

I lay there not sleeping for a long time, trying to push away thoughts of my mom. The closeness of her smell didn’t help. It only made my head swim. Thankfully sleep was still able to find me.

During the night I was awakened by something. Years of sleeping with my dad had obviously conditioned my mother. I awoke to find that we were spooning. Somehow my arm ended up wrapped around her hips while my crotch was tightly pressed against her ass. She snuggled closer and the warmness of her body stirred the monster in my pants.

I couldn’t help myself. As if the most natural thing to do, I pushed and ground my stiffness against her. In half-consciousness she responded with her own movement, rotating her hips in time with my thrust. A heated friction was building between our genitals as they kept rubbing each other against the layer of fabric. The head of my dick would occasion poke its way into her slit.

We were soon breathing heavily. Despite her panties, I could feel her wetness seeping through. I boldly reached my hand toward one of her breasts. Her nipples stood out, erect in her shirt. I squeezed and fondled her tits as I continued on with my movement. It felt like a dream.

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