This morning, your sister is off with her friends and your aunt is going to be gone all day at some function or another, which means that it's pretty much just you and your mom until sometime in the evening. That's okay, you like hanging out with mom. She's got kind of a best-friend mentality where you're concerned, despite the way she constantly is hugging, cuddling, and holding you to her while "innocently" giving you glimpses of her soft, voluptuous body in a very unmotherly way.
At least, that's how it had been, but lately in the past few months, things have been subtly changing. Her affection with you seems to have intensified a bit. She's wanted to spend more time with you specifically. In addition, no less than three times she's walked into the bathroom "accidentally" catching you while you were in the process of one of your "long showers". Her eyes lingered longer on your naked body each time before she made some excuse to get out. Not only that, but three days ago when you popped in to kiss her goodnight, she (in a kind of half-asleep state) pulled you into a deep, hungry kiss right on the mouth. Neither of you have mentioned that since then so you figure she doesn't remember it.
Downstairs, mom is preparing your birthday breakfast. You sigh as you feel yourself stiffening already. Why does she have to wear such sheer robes...and expose that much cleavage? Does she have to sway that huge plush ass of hers quite so enticingly? And when she turns to see you, does she really have to glance down and see the swelling bulge at the front of your pants.
"Well good morning, Nick," she says, sweeping over to you and enveloping you in her fleshy motherly embrace, "happy birthday."
"Thanks mom," you say, hugging back as best you can, your cheek on her hot exposed cleavage.
"Mmmm," sighs mom, still hugging you tight against her and (accidentally?) rubbing her broad thigh against your throbbing erection, "you're becoming quite the man around here. I'd better be careful not to forget you're my son and try to get you into bed myself."
Her tone of voice is, of course, joking, but you wonder just how much.
"It's okay, mom," you tell her, playing along, "I've been having to remind myself you're my mom to prevent me from sweeping you off your feet for years."
Mom gives you a long look, cocking her head, as if attempting to come to a decision. She's never given you that look before and you wonder what it means. She's still got a firm grip on you, clutching you to her soft and bountiful body. |