The Kindness of Strangers - Sex Stories

The Kindness of Strangers

... be too busy being a Sunday. There's a bus that leaves not far from here, goes right by the University.'

'Oh, no, don't be silly Ollie,' she disapproved, and it made me realize it was possibly years since she'd called me that. 'You can take my car,' she amazingly offered.

'You're serious?'

'Of course. I guess I'll just be here all day. I won't need it.'

'Well, cool. That'd be awesome. Thank you,' I appreciated, and she smiled, chuckled.

'What?'

'You,' she laughed. 'Don't sound so surprised. Maybe I'm not the bad guy you've always painted me out to be.'

*

If I'd thought a night's sleep would go a long way to removing some of the incestuous ideation I was developing, I was mistaken. Struggling to settle into my old bedroom I was fixated with the image of Mom on the couch beside me. That white thong disappearing below the waistband of her sweatpants, imagining its route as it delved between her buttocks, pressing upon her asshole and inevitably cupping her pussy. And that pussy. Shaved; waxed? Seriously! To have arrived in L.A. and within three hours essentially seeing my mother naked was astounding.

But then it hit me. It wasn't completely Oedipal. She was a stranger to me, not a mother. I was reacting to her as any nineteen-year-old would to an admittedly attractive middle-aged woman. The more I was around her, inevitably the attraction would diminish. Because if it didn't it'd be weird right!? I mean, sons don't generally get turned on by their ...

... mothers. Even when they have great bodies! Even when their hair smells like rain and their skin like rose petals. Even when their smile does something to your insides and their eyes you could stare into for days. I came onto my stomach and used my shorts to wipe up the mess.

And then came the dream. Waking to the light of the morning and basking in the afterglow of kissing my mother in the kitchen. Our lips lightly meeting, straddling the line between innocence and incest before her tongue found mine. My cock pressed hard into her belly. For more than a minute I thought it was an actual memory before reality kicked in. It hadn't happened. It wouldn't happen. Ever. But try telling that to my morning erection, about as hard as I got, the orgasm that flowed, recoating my abandoned shorts to leave them spoiled and reeking of multiple sins.

*

'Do you have any clothes that need washing?' Mom pointedly asked over her shoulder post-breakfast. I glanced at where she was standing looking out the back door with a mug of coffee cradled in her hands, the morning sun shining through the screen door and silhouetting the shape of her body still in her nightie. The curve of her breast, and as she turned fully, the gap between her upper thighs.

'I... what?' My eyes struggled to rise from the sight, transfixed by the clear double bump of labia through her satin slip.

'I'm doing laundry today,' she added. 'Just put whatever you have out. I'll be happy to do it.'

I thought of the ...