Forced to take my Mother - Sex Stories

Forced to take my Mother

As soon as I pulled onto our street I knew mom was by the pool. Not that I could see past the wooden fence surrounding our backyard, but I didn't have to. The fact my best friend Jack, who lived next door, was on his porch with a couple of his friends looking into my yard was a dead giveaway. In a way it ticked me off, but then again, who could blame them? Fact was my mother was not only pretty damn hot, but lately had taken to wearing some revealing bathing suits when she went swimming. No, not a bathing suit; that would be the fairly modest one piece she used to don when at the pool. What my mother was wearing these days was a bikini and a damn skimpy one. So skimpy I was getting uncomfortable looking at her. Parking in the driveway next to Dad's red Mazda I shut off the car and frowned at my last thought. Saying I was uncomfortable looking at mom lately wasn't really the right word. If I was to be honest with myself the word was horny. The last few weeks Mom had been dressing much sexier, flaunting what I had always figured was a nice body, but I'd had no idea how nice. However even though I had been well aware my mother was, for lack of a better word, a cougar, I had never seen her as anything but my mom. But the last month or so something had changed and I found myself looking at her more like an extremely desirable Milf rather than a parent. I sat back and tapped the steering wheel nervously as I recalled the way my cock had been stirring in my pants whenever I sat by ...

... the pool with her or when we watched TV and she lay on the couch with her long legs stretched out. Even as I stared at those well shaped legs I told myself this was my mother, but that thought wasn't enough to stop the disturbing images of her doing very un-mother like things from entering my mind. The fact mom had become much more affectionate with me wasn't helping matters. Last night had been a perfect example. Dad had to work late and as we sat on the couch watching the Sox game, Mom had slid over and grabbing my arm draped it over her shoulder as if she were my girlfriend. That might not have been so bad had she been wearing more than the inappropriately short black silk robe she had been parading around in at night. The material was thin and she had placed my hand dangerously close to her left breast. I could feel her soft stomach beneath the robe, but more alarming was I could feel her nipple, her hard nipple, pressing into my arm. I had tried to move, but looking up at me with her big blue eyes she'd asked, "You don't like being close to me?" Those words had been followed with her trademark pout that she had been using on dad and me for as long as I could remember. When I was a kid I would always give in to the pout because Mom said it meant she was sad. I always figured that's how it worked on dad as well. When I got older and started thinking about and eventually having sex, I realized it worked on dad because mom had amazing lips. Full and soft, I knew what that ...