...and Afterward, Try Sorting Things Out at Home With Mom...

clunk!

"Holy shit! Holy shit!"

swing!

"Holy shit! Holyzit! Hohilt!"

First, your backpack flew off; then your shoes; then a set of suspiciously feminine clothing, and what looked like a rubbery, deflated balloon. It landed snugly by the windowsill.

"Dana! Hey Dana!"

You jumped over the sitting package in the middle of the living room and buzzed past the couch. A glimmering figure came into view past the cloudy sliding door which led to the backyard, and you skidded to the door handle.

"Dana, I -- "

Instead of your sister, however, you ran headfirst into a sizable, warm, former nutrition-providing bosom. "John, sweetie, slow your jets!" A calming, motherly laugh followed, as well as a hand on your shoulder. "What has you so riled?"

You shot backward. Gulping, you looked your mom over in her very well-fitted V-neck blouse, sleeves rolled up and with hip-hugging gardening pants that was as much fuel to the fire as your imagination was to your own contiguous sense of unbridled perversion.

"W-where's..." Any attempt to sound normal seized all communicative ability back into your throat.

"Your sister stopped by the plaza with some of her friends." Folding her arms, your beautiful, dark brown haired mother set her hose down and looked at you curiously. "You have something you want to say, John? Or is this another one of those 'private squabbles'?"

Another gulp trembled down your throat and your straightened your composure. The jitters were too much; could you really be so bold? Would this really be okay, in any other life?

"Mom..." Through gritted teeth, you asked, "You remember what yesterday was, don't you?"

"Why of course." Before you knew it, your hair was being tussled and you could smell her mild, rosy aroma as she pulled you in for one of those embarrassing all-around-the-world hugs. "It was my very own handsome young man's eighteenth birthday!"

"Yepf, vah ryef," confirmed your muffled voice. After all, it was. It was a proper birthday bash, a Thursday, a good 'ol traditional celebration of life and the Gregorian calendar.

It was also the day that everything changed.

You managed to wrestle out of your mom's grasp, scooting a bite-sized space away.

Then you breathed.

"Mom, I..." This time, taking a careful step forward, you restarted, "Let's just say, I learned something interesting at school, today."

"How to do your chores?"

An uneasy laugh escaped you at the joke. Light and sharp as always -- that was Mrs. Doe for you. Beautiful, confident, yet also as much of a sportive and caring woman as a woman could be; it was no wonder your dad called his senior after-school detention the best punishment he ever had. It was like two caramels in a Danish chocolate set, he'd say, in that weird affected voice of his, sometimes.

"Maybe next week." You shook your head, and braced your body. "No, actually, what I learned was something way crazier... even I think it's crazy when I say it. I think I'd be dead-set convinced I totally was. If it weren't for just... one thing." The air could've crystallized with each heavy breath of yours, and you would've still had your stare glued to a specific part of your mother's body. She eyed you without a clue.

In an invisible tremor, your head seemed to fall into its own vacuum, lifted slightly upward as you took another breath in.

"I saw it. I saw it with my own eyes," you took to murmuring, recollecting the events of the day previous in a messy mumble that a military intercept would probably have had trouble decrypting. You shambled over the strange angel-like figure that came to you, explaining how your life was now forever changed and would never be the same, how the girls at school received your sudden, testy advances, the incident with your PE teacher, and then Dana -- your very sister, the same sister whose friend you accidentally made clumsily suck you off before leaving unfinished and in a daze and retreating to a long walk before eventually shaking yourself out of it and coming back home slightly dazed, and crashing through the door, and.... and...

When you once again raised your chin to look at your mother, you noticed her prettily puzzled face. Finally, she laughed out, "John, what are you saying?"

"I don't know," you suddenly went slightly limp, looking away. For a moment, you came to -- looking at the reality of this situation, how could you explain everything without it either sounding crazy, or affirming said events and cementing this impossibly weird series of events as real? Now that you were back home, you were greeted by this weird sense of limbo -- where, for the moment, you were somewhere between the truth... and fantasy.

And the problem now wasn't which was which -- it was accepting something that could very well be true, but seemed too good to be. That could actually be right there before you, right now, in the skin of the familiar and the normal. That meant, for whatever reason, for whoever you might have been, a great gift has been placed in your hands; that of a liberating, ungodly degree of horrible, animalistic, carnal, ultimate freedom.

The freedom to --

"....rse with me?"

Suddenly, your thoughts dispersed, and the smell of vacuumed carpet and medium-set Febreze sank back in. You looked up, covered in everyday clothes, under an everyday roof, to where your mother currently stood. "What did you just say?" you hurtled.

The naturally pretty woman just chuckled for a second. Strangely, it also felt slightly admonishing. "Oh, I see you got a little distracted there, didn't you, sweetie?" She smiled. "Or... sorry; is 'horny' more accurate?" Her words sounded completely foreign to you, yet there they were, under her smile-accompanied gaze, as you stared back at her with naught a dresser upon which to balance. Your eyes bulged out of your sockets as you suddenly felt your cock being grasped through your pants. If any hand was recognizable from a single touch, it was this one. And your blood instantly reacted, swelling it to an even harder mass.

"Oh don't be so shy, John." With another hug, she began to rub against your dick with one hand while caressing your back with the other, creating a contrast in affection so jarring you nearly nutted right there. With the love of a mother and the attention of a forward escort, she voiced words of assurance to you. "I want to help. You said you had a busy day, right?" She gave you a kiss on the cheek, and flashed another capricious smile that you nearly groaned a little at. "Oohh, my little baby is all grown up! I could understand if there's a little bit of pressure. I do." As she said this, she began to squeeze and fondle your dick with even more salacious motions before pressing hard, then sliding her hand over your waistline and into your pants, fingers trickling over your pubes until she returned to handily kneading your cock with the tenacity of a self-administrated clapper, with that consistently pure smile on her drop-dead beautiful face.

"So, once again, from a mother to her hard, aroused son," she conferred to a playful chuckle once again as she moved her other hand to your shoulder, then to your chest, lightly patting it. "Do you want to have sexual intercourse with me or not? Or a blowjob? If this handie is all you need, that would be great and all, but... I'm your mother, young man, I have a right to look after you, you know."

With the ultimatum set, she knelt down and began undoing your slim-fit jeans.

You could feel the world drifting away, more and more as you looked into her eyes, and felt her warm hand tending to your steel pipe of a penis from behind your now tight pants, her fingers rolling over your head and flirting with your buoyant sacks and sliding up and down your length with proactive effort; the kind you'd never have imagined from your mother... and certainly not with you on the receiving end of it.

"I..." Feeling your dick pulse, you glanced at your mother's pretty, smiling face once again as she waited patiently for your answer, and deliberated.