Christine

Your mother gave birth to you when she was 19. The result of a few too many shots and a horny boyfriend. They tried to make it work at first, but a year after your birth, and many fights later, it was decided that the best thing the two could do was split ways. Your father moved out of state and your mother moved in with her parents. It was agreed that your mother would get full custody, but she was still amicable with her ex. Christine tried to keep in contact with your father to keep him updated on your life, but a few months in and he just stopped answering, dropping all contact completely.

With the help of your grandparents, your mother was able to complete her schooling and landed a job as a nurse at a local clinic. Soon after, Christine got you two your own place. From then on, she worked a nine-to-five job and you'd often spend time in daycare until you were school-aged. Between her job and you, she rarely had time for dating, and the few men she did see, rarely stuck around, leaving her single for most of her adult life.

As you grew older and your hormones kicked in, you started to see your mother in a different light. It was simply an errant thought that confused you at first, not quite understanding your own brain. However, confusion soon turned to understand then embarrassment. You chastised yourself constantly and tried getting your thoughts away from her by looking at other girls, but your thoughts always wandered back to your mom. It didn't help that at home she would wander around the house with just her underwear and a robe to conceal it all. You lost count how many times you accidentally, and eventually purposefully, got a peep at her panty-covered ass or stunning tits. Or how she often wore a shirt braless at home, letting her shape and nipples show through the fabric. Needless to say, you spent many guilty nights masturbating over your her. A few times you stood at her dresser staring at the panty drawer, but you never did take one away, too afraid that your mom would realize and start investigating. Though an oddity would crop up that would change how you looked at your mother for a second, much more intensive, time.

Under circumstances you don't quite remember, you and Christine developed an activity that you called the 'mutual foot rub'. You would stick a foot between each other's legs while laying down, and rub each other's feet. Other than your desire for your mother that was in full swing at the time, it was a rather normal activity. Your mother enjoyed them as they allowed her to soothe her aching feet, and you were happy to oblige. However, you started to enjoy them for an entirely different reason. Whether it was because your hormones were raging and you spent a lot of time looking at her feet, the desire for your mother twisted by this new activity, or any other combination of things, doesn't matter. The truth was that your head started to fill with desire for your mom's feet. To feel and rub them, to sniff and lick them, and to suck and feel them caress your skin. You started wanting all that and more.

You began to look forward to the mutual foot rubs, even starting to ask for them of your own accord. A request your mother was happy to fulfill, unaware of your true motives. During these times, your mother's feet would be so close to your face that a small shift in your head and a shallow sniff was all that it took to get the scent of her feet, and you did exactly that, shifting your body around to hide the fact that you were smelling her feet. They were so close that just by leaning your head forward, you could pop her toes into your mouth or lick her soles, and it took all your willpower not to do so.

what you did do wound you back in your mom's room when she was gone. However, it wasn't the panty drawer you were after. No, you were after her hamper, or sometimes her floor. You began stealing her socks to jack off to at night. You never masturbated directly with them, in fear of leaving the faintest trace of evidence. Though you did often smell and lick them. Even going so far as to suck them as you slid your hand up and down your cock, imagining that it was Christine sliding her foot into your mouth rather than just her sock.

From that point forward, you spent a lot of time with your face buried in her socks.