A son helps his mother cope with the death of his father

My mother and I have always had a special relationship, ever since my dad died four years ago from cancer. My mother was devastated by his death, and has never even considered dating again. But, as I know that her and my father have always had a very lively sex life, I’ve heard them in the throes of passion many nights, though they don’t know so. I’ve always thought that my mother was the most gorgeous, sexy woman on the planet; she’s forty-three, but has the most incredible body you could imagine. Her tits are pretty big, and very firm; her ass isn’t too big, but has a nice round shape to it; and her legs are long and very trim. I couldn’t count the number of times I’ve whacked off thinking about my own mother, and that it’s so wrong only made it more of a turn-on for me.

Not until my father’s death would I ever have suspected that my mother had the same kinds of feelings for me. A few months after the funeral, my mother started walking around the house in very sexy outfits, ones that I didn’t even know she owned. I just kinda shrugged it off as a strange way of dealing with her loss. Then, a couple months went by, and not only was she still wearing the sexy outfits, but she started rubbing against me and bending over to pick things up way too often to be explained by clumsiness; which my mother has never suffered from. I started to wonder if I was being hit on by my own mother. I decided that the only way to find out was to return the possible teases and see what happened, and am I ever glad I did.

It was a normal Monday morning, and I woke up at six-thirty to get ready for class and work, and walked downstairs to see my mother in a very short robe, sitting down like she was it barely covered the slopes of her ass. I smiled at her and walked over to give her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. She bid me good morning, and got up to make us both some coffee. As she was getting up she uncrossed her legs and even spread them a little bit, just giving me a quick glance of a pair of white lace panties. Putting my plan into action, I said I was going to go ahead and do the dishes from the night before for her, while she made the coffee. As I walked toward the sink, I turned sideways to slip between her and the table, and let my crotch make a brief contact with her ass, letting her feel my cock through the jeans. Her head came back just a little bit, and then she turned and smiled at me.

“Jason,” she asked, “why haven’t you ever really had a steady girlfriend? You’re eighteen, and need to get out more.”

“Oh mom, I just haven’t been able to catch the girl of my dreams yet,” I replied, throwing her a little wink.

She smiled and finished making the coffee, pouring a cup and bringing it over to me, as she set the mug on the counter next to me, she leaned against my arm, and I could feel a hard nipple through the thin fabric of the robe. A shiver ran through my whole body from the contact, and I turned my head to look into her eyes; I could see the lust in her eyes, but I had to be absolutely sure, so I turned towards her under the pretense of getting my coffee, and “accidentally” brushed my hand against her crotch as I reached up for the mug. I couldn’t have even hoped for the response that got. Immediately she grabbed my hand, leaning in and purring softly in my ear, and moved it inside her robe, against her panty-clad pussy. I moaned softly and began to rub my fingers against her, pushing my middle finger against her slit, feeling her so hot and wet.

“Oh Jason… yes honey,” my mother purred.

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