A Visit from Mom - Sex Stories

A Visit from Mom

I was sound asleep in my apartment when I was awakened by the click of a key in the door lock. I knew who it was immediately, only one other person had a key to my apartment. That was confirmed when I heard high heeled shoes clicking on the hardwood floor.

"Hi baby, are you awake?" She sat on the edge of my bed and turned on the small lamp on the nightstand. I could tell from her voice that she had been drinking. Mother did not hold her liquor well and this was typical. "Would you like some company tonight?"

I propped myself up on one elbow as she leaned down to kiss me. I could taste the whiskey on her lips.

"Of course mom, you're always welcome here."

****

Mom had always been good to me as I was growing up. She worked a job that kept us fed and clothed. We lived in my grandparents' house which she inherited after they died. She made sure that I did my homework and that I went to school on time. She was a good mother, but she had this lust within her to seek out excitement without the control to tell her when the party was over. Because of that, my birth certificate lists my father as "unknown". As a child, I was frequently awakened in the middle of the night by her headboard banging against the wall between our rooms accompanied by her moans and cries as she was being serviced by yet another loser from the parade of losers she would bring home after a night of drinking. She had the sex drive of a mink but, to me, that was just the way mom was.

As I sat ...

... eating my corn flakes in the morning, she would appear wrapped up in her bathrobe, looking like the wreckage after a storm. Following close behind would be some pot-bellied, homeless-looking guy who was too embarrassed to even speak to me as he dashed for the door. Then she would pour herself a cup of coffee and sit there looking like 'death warmed over' while she nursed her cup. We would sit in silence because I had learned that she had no interest in conversation while the hangover was raging. After she finished her coffee, she would return to her bed for several more hours until the hangover had run its course. Usually by mid-afternoon things were back to normal and my mother was back.

It was after I had graduated from high school and was in technical college that she started to come to my room. I suppose I was nineteen, maybe twenty years old. She would come in while I was sleeping and slide into bed with me. For as strange as that was at first, I found that I liked having her warm body against mine on those cold nights in our drafty old house. I would often wake up in the night with my arm around her and my hand holding her breast. My hard cock would be pressed tightly against her ass which encouraged me to squirm because it felt so good when I did.

Then one night, as I was rubbing my hard cock against her, her hand gripped mine on her breast and her hips began to work against me. Soft moans escaped her lips, becoming gradually louder until she rolled over. I was ...