I am in love with my mom

This is new story called “I am in love with my mom” let’s begin…. For years I had been driving my mother up to visit her girlfriend. Ever since I had turned sixteen, gotten my license, I’d taken mom on her monthly pilgrimage to spend the day visiting with her long time friend during the summer months. It wasn’t like it was a cross-country trip, but mom hated driving on the freeway. And I didn’t mind taking her as Stella; mom’s friend had a couple of sweet looking twin daughters. I’d become friends with them too and we’d spent some interesting moments together whenever we came for a visit.

My father had passed away shortly after I had turned eighteen, now at twenty-two, living in my own place. I still enjoyed taking mom once a month at least for a weekend visit with her friend.

I understood mom’s reluctance to start dating or seeing anyone again, but the fact was, she was still damn good looking at forty-two, exactly twenty years older than I was. She wore her dark almost coal black hair in a very young stylish sort of way that made her look ten years younger. In addition to that, she had a figure that I’d seen several men and women give notice too, not overly large breasts, but certainly noticeable, along with a tight firm ass that looked spectacular in a pair of shorts.

I’d often been told I had my mother’s eyes, a beautiful bluish green, and hazel as they called them, which were identical to hers. And though my hair wasn’t quite as dark as hers was, we did again share the same olive complexion, though on her it looked far more exotic and alluring.

As I usually did, I picked her up early on a Saturday morning for the hour and a half drive up to visit with Stella and the “twins”, something I was quite frankly looking forward to as they had made a point of being home themselves when we came for our visit. I had hopes of making out with either one, or perhaps quite possibly both of them, doing a lot more, time and circumstance permitting.

It had been raining for the better part of the night, a light drizzle still falling as we headed out, though the weather reports had assured us the skies would soon be clearing with temperatures once again warming, promising a bright sunshiny day.

We’d not gotten quite halfway there when a fairly large eighteen-wheeler for whatever reason blew a tire. The roads were still slick in places, especially over the overpasses, where the truck just happened to blow the tire. Driving just behind it, I hit the brakes, plenty of distance between us, but the slick roads and wind kept the car from breaking nearly as quickly as it should have. We both watched the truck suddenly swerve,

first hitting the guardrail and then careening wildly back into the cross lanes of traffic. Suddenly things seemed to happen in slow motion, and I knew there was no way we were going to avoid hitting the truck. I yanked on the wheel as hard as I could, throwing the car into one could be best described as a controlled spin. It was the best I could do beyond looking over towards my mother and yelling out towards her.

I remember saying, “Hold on mom…hold on.”

That was the last thing I remembered before waking up in the hospital. The bright lights hurt my eyes at first, so I closed them again, immediately hearing the sound of my mother’s voice seconds later after doing that.

“Mike? Mike?” I opened them immediately, the fog slowly dissipating, clarity coming back to me as I glanced over in the direction of the sound of her voice. My head hurt, but as I tried to sit up, I realized I couldn’t.

“Mom?”

“Shh, you’re going to be ok honey, you’re going to be ok. Everything’s going to be ok.”

Her words, though reassuring, held an underlying worry that at the moment at least, things weren’t.

“What, what happened?” I asked, still feeling a bit groggy, which I knew then had to be from the pain medication, whatever that was I was on. I finally managed to lock eyes with her however as she stood leaning over the bed. She had some cuts and abrasions on her face, but beyond that, she still looked to be in pretty good shape. Once again I tried sitting up, but the pain from my injuries alerted me to the fact it was best to remain lying still.

“You remember anything?” she asked after kissing my forehead, her fingers gently running through my hair. I did and I didn’t. I remembered throwing the car into what was at best a controlled slide, purposely directing the point of impact away from her side of the car as I remember seeing the truck’s cab suddenly pointing in the opposite direction facing towards us. The impact had been almost head on, on my side of the car. I then learned how I’d been pinned, with the paramedics and fire department literally having to cut me out of the car.

Miraculously, mom had survived the impact with just a few cuts and abrasions from the flying glass, the airbag giving her a black eye and a rather nasty bruise across her chest, which she later showed me. For myself, I now learned I’d suffered a broken leg and two broken arms, one of which had been severely requiring immediate surgery to repair, now pinned in place, along with my leg. I groaned, once again feeling the pain.

“Nurse?” I remembered hearing mom call out as I once again closed my eyes, a wave of nausea coursing over me. “Can we give him something more?” I heard her asking.

“Not for another hour yet,” I heard the nurse respond after checking my charts. “He’s already at the maximum we allow for injuries of this nature, he’s very likely got a pretty good concussion as well, and we don’t want to overly sedate him because of it.”

I groaned, the pain though not intense, was extremely uncomfortable, and now that I was more fully awake, there was no way I was going to be able to sleep until I got a bit more to at least take the edge off. Feeling my mother’s hand once again stroking my forehead, her hands and fingers gently running through my disheveled hair seemed to help, surprisingly. And I moaned again, though this time in more of a relaxed gratefulness as she stood there. In time, I fell asleep again.

**

When I opened my eyes again, it was dark. The lights in my room were dim, but it was obviously night with the darkness of the evening clearly showing through my window. I looked over, this time being able to do so without too much pain, surprised to see mom sitting in a chair next to the side of my bed, obviously asleep.

“Mom?”

She immediately woke up to the sound of my voice. “Mike? Are you in pain? Can I get you anything?” she asked worriedly.

I was, but I wasn’t about to tell her that either. “I’m ok,” I reassured her. “You should go home…get some rest, I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine!” she said bursting out into tears, though quickly recovering, and steeling herself. “And I’ve already been home,” she added. It was then that I realized she had indeed changed clothes, her face already looking a hell of a lot better than I remembered seeing it the first time. “You’ve been asleep for two days now,” she told me, her comment startling me, as it seemed like I’d only been asleep for a few hours now.

Once again she stood at the side of my bed, her hands gentle, reassuring, soothing as she stroked the side of my face, leaning over, kissing me softly on the forehead, and then on my lips, lingering there only briefly. As she had done that however, I felt the fullness of her breasts brush against my arm, pressing against me momentarily as she literally hugged herself to me.

I was injured, still in a little pain, but astonished that her close contact with me had sent a jolt of pleasured sweetness coursing through my body, particularly my head. I silently chastised myself for allowing it, surprised that I did on the one hand, though immediately using the excuse that whatever drugs I was on were obviously interfering with my inhibitions, feeling still a bit loopy and somewhat out of it. It was the only thing I could come up with to explain the sudden emergence of unexpected, unexplainable arousal between my legs.

I had never really entertained sexual thoughts about my own mother. Sure, I had on more than one occasion admired the way she looked in some of the clothing she wore, and had indeed found my own mother attractive looking. But I’d never found myself thinking about her, particularly when I pleasured myself, which I very often did. Maybe it was semi normal for boys, even young men to occasionally fantasize about their mothers or sisters,

but not having any, I’d never really done that, the few times those type of thoughts had actually entered my head, even hinting at going in that direction, I’d immediately turned my thoughts elsewhere, effectively heading them off.

Now however, I lay there in bed, feeling my erection growing, which was both frustrating as well as embarrassing. I again could only contribute the emergence of arousal as being due to my body being screwed up with the drugs and the simplistic, though very welcome touch of her hands and fingers on me. Though the contact of her breasts had certainly triggered the rest of it.

The one thing I will add. Even before the death of my father, mom and I had always had a frank and open relationship with one another. We could talk and discuss just about anything, which we very often did. By the time I was old enough to date, it was mom that counseled me on contraceptives, women in general, and things she felt I should be aware of. Surprisingly, I was never uncomfortable being around her when we did that,

and found it refreshing more than anything else that we could. And never not once, did I find myself becoming inappropriately aroused because of it, nor did I feel either one of us to be shy or embarrassed in discussing some of the things that we had. It was something I had always appreciated and admired in our relationship, the fact that we could so openly, so candidly do that, without fear, shame or guilt in having done so.

I am in love with my mom will continue on the next page