Not exactly

Much to your surprise, you woke up.

Even after being hit with the brunt of what felt like ten stampeding buffalos, you were conscious and fully aware of your surroundings, and aware of the teenage brunette right in front of you, equally shocked to seeing one another.

Crawling on the bed with all fours, the scene was strange as not were you only in your underwear, but this woman with you was none other but Lorri Barnes. Mom!

In response to how close she was, you crawled backward until you found yourself back against the wall with mom on her knees, arms tucked between the legs.

"Lorri?" You blurt out loud which surprised her and led to her squinting, trying to recognize your face with the side of her lip corroborating the reaction.

"How do you know me?" Darting your eyes at every corner of the room, you try to think of one convincing lie as fast as possible, going with:

"Who doesn't know you, honestly?" That trick seemed to work as her expression turned from fatal curiosity to a simper. Rocking back and forth, she bashfully looks at the bedsheets before turning back to you, chuckling as she did so.

The whole feeling was awkward. You were flirting with a younger version of your mom, and admittedly, she was rather hot. All things were made worse when you felt a tent rising in your briefs - a detail immediately noticed by her.

Her finger drew on the bedsheets, zigzagging until the tip of her finger tapped the tip of your bulge, and when looking up to see what her reaction was, she shifted her body from the left to the right - biting on her dress whilst gazing at you.

"Say Martin, you don't kiss and tell, do you?" Shocked once more, you wondered how exactly she knew your name. Instead of a verbal answer, she lifted the skirt of her dress to show you her ass, before hooking her panties and giving them a stretch. She gestured for you to be quiet before releasing her garments with a snap, "You have it on your briefs."

Who could've thunk that mom stitching your name would end you?

Still processing the information of what's happening, you blabber out an answer in desperation, which came and went as:

"What do you mean by that?"

"Come on." She leans forward at you, "Don't you have a crush on me? I know that your brother George has one." and proceeds to free your cock from its fabric prison, feeling the air for a few seconds before it was held by soft stroking hands, "I won't tell, well, actually. Maybe if you do well, I could spread the word around town, hmm?"

A sharp sense of guilt, fear, and arousal hits you - looking back and forth at mom and her arm wrapped around your shaft.