Mother Son love story

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“This is not what it looks like…”

It was clear even while the words were being spoken that it was a lame and dumb-ass thing to say. Her eyes were wide open; she was shocked. The only course of action for me was to drop to the floor and cover my face in shame.

“I am so sorry Momma.”

She reached for me, and gently lifted me up; kneeling in front of me she wiped my eyes while holding my head to her bosom in a most motherly manner. Mom’s voice was soft, sweet, and tender.

“Tommy, it’s alright, I understand. Don’t be ashamed. You are growing up. You’re at the age where you are obsessed with girls. Your body is changing, your hormones are raging, and you are no doubt confused by all of your feelings and emotions.”

She struggled to find the right words, and was nearly in tears.

“It’s not your fault, Tommy, it is mine. If I wasn’t a slut you would have a father, and he would be helping you to work through this challenging time of your life.”

The sound of the word was vulgar, profane, and dirty. All the more so coming from her lips – she would never say ‘hell’ or ‘damn’. Regaining her composure she said

“It’s normal for boys to be curious and have fantasies. Most of the women at work have shared similar stories about their sons. Let’s get ready for dinner, Ok?”

Trying not to whimper I said “It wasn’t right, I’ll never touch your things again. Please forgive me.”

“I already have. I love you more than you’ll ever know, and I always will.”

“Mom… please never say that word again.”

She didn’t ask for clarification of which word I was referring to. She tried to diffuse the tension with small talk. Breaking into her mischievous smile, pointing to the clothes on the bed she said “Tommy, which ones are your favorites?”

“Mom…”

“Tommy…”

“Mom, please…”

“Tommy…”

Sheepishly pointing to her sheer cyan satin panty and bra I could barely get out the words

“Only angels wear things so beautiful.”

She seemed taken aback by my response.

“Those are my favorites too. But Tommy, I am your mother. It’s not a good thing for you to think about me in in that way.”

Wanting to argue that point, but feeling her good graces had been pushed to the limit, I kissed her cheek and said ‘sorry’ again. I slithered away to set the table for dinner.

If there were any lingering repercussions, Mom never let on. Her privacy was never again violated, but thereafter, whenever they were washed, her cyan panty and bra were neatly folded and placed prominently on the top of the laundry stack.

Chapter 2.

High school graduation was quickly approaching. Not wanting to leave Mom, I decided to enlist in the local Army National Guard. The first week of June, just after my eighteenth birthday I raised my right hand and was scheduled for ten weeks of basic combat training in July. Mom was relieved that I’d be staying close. She said it would be hard for her not being with me, especially for ten long weeks. A few nights later, we were lying on the couch, not paying much attention to the TV. Mom was in front of me, dressed in jeans and a tank top. Turning to face me, I innocently ran my hand up and down her back. The subject got to my remaining senior class activities.

“Tommy, aren’t you going to go to your senior prom next week? You really should go, you only get one chance. I’ve always wished I could have gone to mine.”

“I don’t think so, Mom. I’ve never had a girlfriend and I don’t want to ask someone who doesn’t care about me or only wants someone to take her to the prom.”

“Tommy, surely there must be someone you’d like to ask.”

“There might be… no.”

“Well…”

“There is maybe one…”

Excited now, Mom said

“Well, who?”

Turning Mom so her back was to me, starting at her shoulder, on her back with my finger I wrote out the letter “M”.

“Mary Higgins? Tommy, she’s trouble.”

“No…”

In the middle of her back I wrote out the letter “O”.

“Monique Anderson? She seems nice enough, but I don’t see her being your type.”

“No…”

On the lower part of her back, I wrote a bold capital letter “M”.

Mom looked at me, and turning so we were face-to-face, she held me in a huge hug. Her legs pressed tightly into mine, and I could feel her petite breasts pressing into my chest.

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