A Widow's Comfort Ch. 02 - Sex Stories

A Widow's Comfort Ch. 02

I woke when I felt the bed bouncing as she rolled out.

The little clock that sat on my headboard since I was in the third grade read 6:22 and I thought, "Fuck, Mom, what the hell." I NEVER got up this early.

I heard the toilet flush and then the water running.

She came back, saw that I was awake, and said, "I'm sorry, Honey, I didn't mean to wake you. Should I go to my own bed?"

I flipped the spread and sheet back in invitation. She smiled, the first truly happy smile I had seen since the funeral.

She crawled in, and kissed me, a true man-woman kiss.

It didn't linger, but it was a true kiss.

As she snuggled against me her belly brushed my erection.

She giggled and said, "Watch it buster," as she settled against me.

"What the FUCK, Mom?" I asked myself.

And I realized she had gone back to sleep.

I ran my palm over her soft arm. God, she was SO soft and SO warm. I let my finger trace the line where the elastic of the puffy sleeve put a distinct dent into that sweet skin.

I snuggled against her and let my hand run slowly down her back. I could feel each roll and loved each one separately. There was something about the way she felt under my hand that made me want to squeeze, to feel her softness more, well, more completely if that makes any sense.

I relaxed and drifted off with her in my arms.

For the second time that morning, I woke when she got up.

For the second time that morning, I watched as she left the room, this time heading ...

... into the hall, not the bathroom.

And I knew I wouldn't be able to do anything until I drained the old dragon so I laid back and masturbated. I pulled my shorts off and laid them beside me for future use. As I jacked off, I laid back, closed my eyes, and was surprised when the image that came was Mom. I could see her in my bed, but this time with no clothes on. I could see those immense breasts, so big they sort of fell off to her sides. I could see her cute face, all twisted in the rictus of excitement and then orgasm. I could see her body, soft and white, the rolls soft and sexy. I could feel her legs, those thick thighs so warm, wrapped around me. And as I came, the hot thick jets of my release making a line from my cock to a spot between the pectoral muscles of my chest, I could hear her, urging me to finish, to fill her up, to give me the "mangift," and to "claim" her.

I gasped a couple of quick breaths, wiped the cum from my belly with my shorts, and then rolled out of bed. I threw the shorts into the hamper, pulled on fresh replacements, pulled on my jeans and another T-shirt, and then padded, barefoot, to face the day.

In the kitchen, Mom was back. This was not the drunken sot I'd found asleep, or passed out, in the recliner. She was, well, Mom. She was bustling around the kitchen. I could smell coffee and spotted the makings of an omelet. The eggs were sitting in a glass bowl, the proper color, buttercup yellow, coming to room temperature. Toast sat in the ...