Wrestling with Mom - Sex Stories

Wrestling with Mom

It was an accident that we’d both been hoping for… We used to have this boxer-sharpei mutt Bear, who was supposed to be a guard dog but was too sweet to everyone except the neighbors’ yappy dog. He died in 2010 but we loved him up till the end, possibly because he brought us closer. Mom was single and I had no b*****r or s****r so we needed a guard dog especially when I was too young to defend the homestead. It wasn’t a bad area but Mom still worried – she carried a butcher knife in her bath robe when I was a toddler. To train Bear to protect us, Mom used to “hit” me. It was just playing but Bear would yelp and jump at Mom and occasionally pull down her low-cut blouse giving me an extra peek at her cleavage (I didn’t get to see any more at these times but it was a nice tease). Then in return, I’d “hit” Mom playfully and Bear would “attack” me. As I got older, I realized Bear knew this was just playing but when we first got the dog I thought this was serious training. When I was maybe eleven or so, the play-hitting turned to wrestling, still playing but it was a workout too. Mom could still put up a fight when we started. She’d sometimes just come up behind me for a hug and keep squeezing and I knew a bout was starting so I’d try freeing myself or spinning around so I was facing her or even reversing the hold so I was behind her, squeezing her. This was when I started to feel something for her. She was my mom, I loved her, and I had already started masturbating so it felt kind ...

... of good pressing my little willy against her. Occasionally Mom would stop our match, claiming she was too tired to continue or had to get to work or just that we should stop. I don’t remember exactly, but I think maybe she only did this when she felt my erection stirring. I was still at an age where I kissed my mom on the lips, just innocently, but a friend came over and saw me do it. He teased me mercilessly for it and after that I stopped kissing her unless she made me. I even stopped hugging her unless she made me. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to – I really wanted to, but I was starting to understand that I had an attraction to Mom. It was romantic but mostly sexual and of course the love every boy feels for his mom. But it was also wrong. I don’t know why I thought that, other than my friend, but I knew society looked down on it even though it felt so natural to love Mom. But as far as I knew it was wrong. And I didn’t want to be wrong. She sat me down once and said, “I know you’re turning into a big strong man (she said this a bit mockingly), but you’ll always be my boy. I don’t mind if you stay away from me – it means you’re becoming independent, an adult, a man. I’d rather you have your own life than be a mama’s boy forever.” I told her I loved her. I had been consciously making an effort to separate us and she called me on it. So in my head, I made a commitment that I’d hug her every day. It had been long enough, a year or two, that kissing her on the lips seemed too ...