Give her the compliment she's looking for.

As you watch your mom almost fellating a banana in front of you, you gulp down a swallow of orange juice to cover your nerves. The way your mom is acting is so strange. If it were anyone but your own mom, you'd think she was hitting on you or something. You're embarrassed that you even think that could be happening. She's probably just looking for a compliment. She hasn't had a man in her life for a while, and she needs to feel pretty and desirable. You're the only man around, so she's fishing for a compliment from you. That makes sense. Right?

So you decide the kind thing would be to give her some encouragement. "You look great, mom." You smile at her. "You always did though," you add. "You know, sometimes I think some of the guys come over here so they can check you out, not to hang out with me," you say in a slightly teasing voice, then chuckle and wink at her. Part of you knows there's plenty of truth to your kidding though. Your mom is younger and much prettier than most of your friends' mothers. You think you've caught them looking at her body, when they thought you couldn't see them. If you're being honest, you can't really blame them. If she weren't your mom, she'd probably be a MILF for you, too.

At that, her face brightens. "You really think so? That makes me feel so good, that you think your old mom is still attractive." She walks over and gives you a big hug. Since you're sitting down, it more or less buries your face between her full, warm breasts. She places a long lingering kiss on top of your head. Her voice drops a bit lower and becomes husky and alluring as she says, "I really don't care what those boys think though. I'm only interested in looking good for one man." She takes in a deep breath, and the way it makes her body move is almost like she's grinding against you. She pulls back from the hug to look down into your eyes, hers are filled with devotion. "Please let me know if there's anything else you need. Anything at all." She breathes out, almost panting. She half closes her eyes and a shiver runs through her body. Then she draws in a deep breath, and seems to regain a bit of composure. "More bacon, or juice?" she asks in a less seductive, cheerier tone of voice, trying to act normal again.

The press of her soft, warm body against you, and her yearning, suggestive words have given you a full-on erection. It's making a thick bulge in your jeans. You pull your chair a bit further under the table to try to hide it, feeling ashamed that your own mom is having this effect on you. You know it's wrong, but the wrongness is exciting. You've had a couple of Oedipal wet dreams, and always woke up from them disturbed that you were so turned on by your mom in the dream. Now real life feels just as dirty and perverse, and you have to admit to yourself that that makes it even hotter for you.

Whatever caused her to act that way, she's trying to put it behind you both now. You can see a bright red embarrassed blush on her cheeks, before she turns away from you to start putting the dirty dishes and pans in the sink. Part of you wants to just ignore that all just happened, get to school, and try to go back to not thinking about your mom that way. Another part is worried about her, wondering what stress caused her to suddenly act so out of character. A much darker part of your mind is curious to know how far she would go, if you gave her a signal you had similar feelings.