Mom and son share his boyfriend

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Mom and son share his boyfriend.. I always say to people that Donnie and I are like the Gilmore Girls, only Mom and son. Like Lorelai Gilmore I was only in my late teens when I gave birth, a senior in High School with a reputation of being as easy as First Grade Math. The guy I think was his Dad barely hung around to graduate and we’ve seen him only two or three times since; and on each of these times he was trying to touch me up for a loan. Having a kid so young matured me, at least a little, I got an apartment and a job, quit the pot and while I’m not teetotal the number of times I’ve been drunk since Donnie was born barely reaches double figures.

That’s not to say I was always Mom of the year; but I wasn’t one of those Trailer Trash Teen Mothers you see on TV who seem only to care for partying and slurping their faces off with good looking guys. I certainly wasn’t chaste, and over the years I had plenty of dick, not just in my pussy, but my mouth and ass as well; but if it came to a choice between Donnie and getting laid – well, I had a dildo to remove any frustration.

So eighteen years after he was born I had a small, but nice house, a job as deputy bar manager and a great relationship with my son. I always felt that the key to having a good Mom and son dynamic was communication and that meant I would talk to Donnie about anything and I mean anything; not just my job or our finances but sex as well. It was a joke between us that when I paid off the babysitter and went to kiss him good night I’d score my date; one or two star I wasn’t ever seeing again, three stars meant I’d blown them, four stars they’d fucked my pussy and five stars my ass.

It became a running joke as I came in from work, especially as my son moved past the need for babysitters and he’d call out ‘Met any five stars tonight Mom?’ and I’d reply ‘No, but I met a three star in the toilet’ and we’d laugh ourselves hollow. Outside the house he quickly developed a reputation as a shy and sensitive kid, good at his studies, poor at sport. He settled well at school though, there were a few issues as there were with any boy, but nothing serious and if he wasn’t going to be voted Class President he wasn’t unpopular, having a number of friends and a greater number of acquaintances. I think I noticed early that a number of them were pretty girls, drawn to him because of both his sensitivity and because he was so obviously uninterested in them sexually. I knew before he did that he was gay and encouraged him to come out.

I wasn’t sure how it would go and for the first few weeks after he had announced to his school he was gay I waited in baited every night for him to come home and tell me how he’d been bullied. He never was; even the masculine jocks seemed to accept it – school, or at least its pupils, had become more liberal since my day. It was a few months after he came out that he started dating; mainly guys as sensitive and bright as himself. Our conversations about my sex life expanded to include his and I smiled proudly as he told me everything; his first kiss, a make-out in the back of his car, mutual masturbation and oral, plenty of oral. But the trouble was that his dates were too much like him, willing to go down on a guy and suck some cock, but not masculine enough to spread their partner’s ass cheeks and spear their hole. So at a few months past eighteen and in his senior year Donnie was still a virgin.

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