I did the well, and began unrolling the condom down my shaft and the well disappeared as I unrolled it down. Growing up, I often got mixed signals. My mother would walk around the house nude when I was young, but stopped as I got older. I would often go in and talk to her while she was taking a bath and she would make no attempt to cover herself. As a boy, I found myself coming up with excuses to talk to her as she bathed. I pleaded with her that I needed to make sure I got it right in front of her, so we would both know for sure. It was the conclusion of the first full year after my parents divorce and Mom and I just watched TV until midnight. At the stroke of midnight, she told me Happy New Year and gave me a kiss on the lips. We had always just kissed on the cheek before. It wasn't a passionate kiss, and I didn't think much of it at the time. I thought everything was OK when she turned and looked at me and asked, "Why were you fondling me in the kitchen last night?" I blushed and tried to say something, but she just cut me off and told me it was normal for young men to fantasize about their mothers; but that it simply wasn't acceptable. She asked me to stop thinking that way about her and definitely stop touching, fondling, or rubbing her private parts. With that she mixed herself a Bloody Mary, which was a change for her and added that she wanted to talk with me about "our situation" a bit later that day. She then called my grandmother (part of their Sunday morning ritual) and I just sat there in the kitchen listening, hoping she wouldn't tell about what happened last night, and she didn't. Then she called my aunt and they chatted for a while as she opened a bottle of wine and poured a glass. I listened in again and she said nothing.

I asked her if we could go to her bedroom after dinner and didn't get an answer. After she put dinner in the oven, she poured yet another drink and passed out on the sofa again. C'mon, Mom. We're both adults and we love each other. You always taught me that this is something that is only for people who love each other and I don't love anyone as much as I love you. She seemed to melt in my arms when I said that. She turned the water off and started to get out when I grabbed her and pulled close to me. She yelled, "No Joe, please stop this!"

Suddenly, she stopped everything and told me, "Stop it right there! This needs to stop now. This isn't right and you know it! Let go of me and get out of my room! NOW!" She pushed me off the bed and moved the far side of the bed and stood up. I pleaded, "Mom, I saw the look in your eyes earlier and I know you want to have sex with me as much as I want sex with you. Please it will be our secret." Once she rinsed all the shampoo out she noticed me. "Joe, what are you doing in here with me? You need to get out right now! Right now!" I went to the kitchen for another glass of wine and then remembered the guys at work talking about cold showers and thought I'd try that. It worked for about 10 minutes then I was hard again.

We stared at each other and I could tell her eyes of lust had become anger, guilt, and shame. I started cussing and she told me to go take a shower and cool off. She went on in a raised voice telling me there was NO way we were ever having sex, it simply was not right, etc. At that time, I was supposed to be deciding which university I wanted to attend. My parents had divorced years before and I was strongly leaning toward going to live with my dad and go to school there. My dad had remarried and my mom had been in a string of relationships with some real losers. She really didn't want me to go because I long before became the "man of the house", minus the sex. She really didn't want me to go away and pointed toward all the local universities, and she especially despised the thought of me moving into dad's place. We talked about it a lot that year and when I called my dad to ask for materials from the university in his town, she broke into tears and begged me to stay with her, arguing that the multiple local universities had much more to offer. As a bribe, she even started buying me Playboys and Penthouse Forums (which she enjoyed reading too), simply saying it was normal for me to look at them. We both moaned and I knew I had to stop or I would shoot my load in her before I ever got all the way in. She finished that drink and was going to start dinner and the alcohol hit her. I had been watching TV, and her, and heard her stumbling in the kitchen. I got up and saw her trying to cut up food for dinner. She was not standing steady, so I offered to help. She said the vodka really hit her, but it would go away in a few minutes: It didn't, in fact it got worse. I replied that I also had a collection of stories, but they might be a bit graphic for her tastes. She asked me to send her one and she would be the judge.I've had fantasies about my own mother for many years and I long suspected she had more than just maternal feelings for me, too. Neither of us had ever acted on them, however. I could hear her whispering, "No, we shouldn't be doing this. This is all wrong.. We need to stop now...." The next weekend, I decided to make an unannounced visit. She lived in an apartment in town, so I stopped by and found her by the pool. She was in a simple one-piece bathing suit. Her hair was starting to gray and her body had just a little bit of sage, but she was still beautiful. We bought the condoms and I spotted a new Penthouse Forum, which we both enjoyed reading privately at that time. On the way home, the conversation was about where I was going to college. She repeated that was what I should be concentrating on, not sex. We talked about colleges and I was careful not to bring up moving to dad's place, but as we pulled into the driveway, she brought it up. We sat in the car in the garage arguing about it for a while. Then we went inside. I carried her into the bedroom and gently laid her down on the bed. I crawled up beside her and for the first time since I crawled in bed with her as a kid with nightmares, I felt Mom's bare skin against mine.

She looked at me for a moment hesitantly and then a smile spread across her face as she lifted her ass from the couch and allowed me to pull her suit down. She had gotten to where she would expect a new story every Friday night and she often wrote that she enjoyed them, but it was a shame she was single and didn't have someone to share them with.

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I didn't know what to say. I know I got flushed right there. After a short pause, she dismissed it as a dream and apologized for even asking and that was the end of it. I sighed in relief after she left my room. Where did you learn to do that, she gasped. No ones ever done that to me before. Are you kidding? I've been thinking about this day for the past 7 years, I said. I told her that I didn't care what she said. She was my mom and I would always love her. I just hoped I hadn't disappointed her or made her think I was disturbed. She said no, she would never think that.