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This is the second part of my story between mother/son love. You will be confused if you attempt to begin this story from the second part. So go back and check out the first if you haven’t already. This next part will reveal more about the mothers thought process. I can assure you that this is the way my real mother acts. It may seem strange, but I am used to it.
As always, drop that feedback on me at anytime. I enjoy reading the tips you guys/gals leave and will apply them where possible. I will start this part with the last line of the first part so that there is no confusion on where it’s starting. Alright then, enjoy the second part of my story. Peace!
“Uhm, we need to talk,” my mother whimpered in a voice so soft that I could barely hear it.
My stomach began to turn instantly as I knew exactly what she was going to be talking about. I felt some relief at the fact that she was the one who made all the moves last night, so if anything, she couldn’t blow up at me.
“Oh… sure, we can talk, but can we eat first because I am starving?” I replied.
It was a load of crap though. My stomach knotted up instantly when she pulled away from me and my appetite disappeared with it. I was wracking my brain trying to think of all the scenarios that could happen. Out of all the processes that I ran through, only one of them ended well. This did wonders for my stomach as it was now in my throat. Even though her robe was open and she had on a new cyan colored bra and panties set, I had no interest in looking at her body at the moment.
I turned around and made my way to the dining room table. I pulled out a chair and sat down trying to look as chill as possible. I didn’t want to let out the fact that I was nervous as hell, so I just looked at the fake plant we had in the corner as if it was very interesting. She came in the dining room with two plates and placed them on the table. She then went back in and grabbed two cups of orange juice. The entire time that she came in and out of the dining room, she never made eye contact with me. I sensed that she was even more nervous than me which made me feel a bit better.
She sat down at the table the same way that I did when I was afraid to face her. She was turned sideways facing away from me. This was completely uncharacteristic for my mother. She is very confrontational by nature and will not hesitate to make eye contact with you even while discussing embarrassing things. Yet here she sat, avoiding my gaze the entire time. I grabbed a fork and started eating so that I could have something to do. I had lost my appetite, but I knew I needed to fill myself up. For the next five or so minutes, the only sound in the air was a metal fork hitting a glass plate every so often. Once I was nearly done with my food, I called out to my mother to get her attention.
“Mom, what is it that you wanted to talk about?” I asked while trying not to suffocate from my stomach being lodged in my throat.
Startled by my voice, she jumped a little. She was so deep in thought that she had tuned out of reality for a moment. Her plate still had a lot of food on it as she was eating very slowly. Maybe she had lost her appetite as well. It was becoming clear that my nervousness didn’t even compare to hers.
After a minute or two of gathering herself, she slurred, “I want to talk about last night.”
She was speaking so low that I couldn’t understand a word she was saying. I could have told her to speak up, but that would’ve put her on the spot. Instead, I got up and pulled up my chair in front of her so that I would be able to hear her better. Once I sat down in front of her, I saw her closing her robe tighter. This was not a good sign. It means that she was switching back to her motherly self and being cautious around me. Even though she sat a few feet in front of me, I could feel an invisible barrier between us.
Feeling sad but anxious to know, I asked, “Can you say that again?”
Still avoiding my gaze, she looked into her lap and whispered, “I want to talk about last night.”
Playing the fool, I responded, “Oh about that comedy movie? It was hilarious. The reviews were right.”
Realizing that I am avoiding the real topic purposefully, she looked up at me for the first time. I noticed immediately that the white of her eyes had a reddish tint to them. This was clear evidence that she had been crying. I made a mistake and showed a concerned look from the revelation of her eyes and she dropped her gaze to her lap again. We sat in silence for about thirty seconds before I broke it again.
“Was it not about the comedy movie? Maybe it was that action movie? Sorry, I don’t remember much about the action movie. I “slept” through it,” I said.
She looked up at me again, but this time she had a slight smirk. This gave me confidence that my jokes were well received. She then put her head back down and spoke again.
“I want to talk about you “sleeping” through the action movie,” bahis firmaları she murmured in a low monotone voice.
Not allowing her to jump to the forbidden topic, I pulled out another one. “I slept because I was stuffed from ice cream that resembled a dirt road in the countryside.”
She burst out laughing.
It felt like she was getting back to her normal self, so I said, “There she is.”
She made eye contact with a warm smile on her face before saying, “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. Maybe the fact that my mother couldn’t look straight ahead for the past ten minutes. Made me think someone swapped her out of here,” I joked.
“Oh no, I am the one and only,” she giggled.
The tension in the air had lifted and she could now stare at me without issue. I leaned back in my chair and got more comfortable as I waited for her to start off the conversation.
“Thanks for snapping me out of it. I was in a different world for most of the morning,” she said.
“What could be on your mind so much that you would sit in a daze all morning?” I spewed, still feigning my ignorance.”
“Don’t make me say it, you idiot,” she chuckled.
This response actually relieved me because this was a typical girl response. My mother’s girly side is something that I rarely see. The occasional scream at a random bug and refusing to do hard physical labor is about the most you will get out of her.
“Oh, you mean our little cuddle session?” I asked, choosing to use a lighthearted word rather the real term.
“Yeah, that little cuddle session,” She replied. “I think that maybe.. uhm… we possibly…,” she stuttered before being cut off my me.
“You think we went too far?” I asked, guessing the ending to her question.
She nodded her head without speaking and looked back into her lap. I am no fool and pretty much predicted exactly what she wanted to say. It was not a hard guess for anyone, so it couldn’t catch me off guard.
“I don’t think we did,” I replied confidently as if nothing was strange about it.
She looked up at me instantly. “What do you mean you don’t think we went too far? Do you not understand our relationship?” she asked.
Understanding that the time for jokes had passed, I replied, “Of course I understand our relationship, but I am still fine with what we did.”
She looked at me and then jumped like she came to a realization of something. “Obviously you would be fine with this, you are the one who started this mess in the first place,” She said in an attempt to scold me.
Feeling like she was placing the blame on me, I responded.
“Wait. Wait. Wait. So you are saying that I am the reason for us doing what we did last night?” I asked slightly raising my voice. “I seem to remember it differently.”
“I don’t mean last night, I’m talking about when you first decided you wanted to make a move on me,” she said while looking straight at me.
“Okay, I’ll admit that I was at fault during the first time. We had a little “falling-out” and we moved on. However, you immediately started coming onto me out of nowhere. The second time, I made sure to take the passive side as I didn’t want you to flip out on me again. You lead the entire time,” I accused.
Her eyes widened from the shock of how honest I was. I figured that since we already messed around, I had no reason to fear speaking my mind. She followed my lead and took her gloves off as well.
“Coming onto you? Yeah, right. What do I gain from coming onto a little boy. I was simply playing with my son. Since when did that become a crime?,” she challenged.
“Playing with your son is not a crime, but seducing him by feeling on him is a bit questionable if I may say so,” I replied.
“So you just going to act like you weren’t staring at my body when we were running around the coffee table? Did you think that you were being sneaky? You were staring me down the whole day as a matter of fact. I am not some inexperienced little girl you met at uni. I know all the tricks in the book as I have seen them before,” she said.
I blushed a little by her revelation of what I had done. I thought I was being extra careful during those times, but she was on me from the start. Wanting to put her on the spot also, I aired out my knowledge.
“Okay, well let’s talk about your sudden wardrobe change. I’ve been watching you all my life and you have never wore a robe like the one you have on now, or skin-tight clothes like the set you wore yesterday. If I didn’t know any better, I would say you changed so that I could have a better look?” I asserted.
It was now time for her cheeks to blush as she looked at the same fake plant that I was looking at earlier. My heart sank at that reaction because it implied that I was correct. My own mother actually wanted me to look at her? The only question that remained now is why would she.
“I…I never changed my uhm… my style of outfits. I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said, clearly nervous kaçak iddaa after having her laundry aired out.
Realizing I have her on the run, I pressed on. “Let’s just say I was looking at you, where is the harm in that? I have looked at you all of my life, what is new? Now, getting turned on from your son eyeing you is a cause for concern,” I provoked.
I really wanted to get to the bottom of her sudden change in actions. She rejected me so violently the first time. How could she swap so quickly? What was really going on?
Still staring at the plant, she answered, “Turned on? Impossible. What mother in their right mind would enjoy having their son watch them? Especially when he’s practically a puppy at only nineteen and knows nothing of the world. Where is the gain from that situation?”
Feeling insulted from her calling me too young, I step up my game.
“I didn’t know mothers these days were sexually attracted to puppies. Wait right here,” I said as I got up from in front of her and made my way to the hallway.
She turned around to see what I was doing and followed me with her eyes until I was out of view. I was headed to the closet to retrieve evidence of her puppy fetish. I flicked the closet light on and grabbed the couch pillow that I threw in there last night. It was now stained with her juices. I placed it on my head and balanced as I walked back to the dining room. As soon as I came into view, she burst out laughing and blushed at the same time. I looked like an absolute idiot with a giant couch pillow on my head. I sat at the table and she looked away from me while still giggling.
“It turns out there are some people in the world who enjoy puppies,” I joked as I kept trying to balance the pillow.
She clearly remembered what she did to the pillow last night.
“No, the only people who get turned on by puppies are people who are unstable or mentally ill.” she said while starting to get serious again.
I was taken aback by that statement. Was she trying to hint at something that she was going through, or was it just a random insult? It concerned me because her voice was back serious all of a sudden.
“What do you mean by unstable or mentally ill? That’s a bit too far don’t you think?” I questioned.
“I wish that was the case honestly. At least then I would have a valid excuse for the way I feel,” she replied.
I raised an eyebrow at the last part of her statement. “How do you feel exactly?” I asked.
“Ugh, I don’t want to talk about it. It’s fucked up just like this whole situation,” she asserted.
“Oh come on. How are you just going to leave me hanging in the middle of the conversation? You’re the one who said you wanted to talk,” I challenged, trying to get her to come clean.
“I said I wanted to talk, but not about my feelings. I was talking about what happened last night. You’re the one who is prying further,” she accused, getting defensive.
“That was just the natural flow of our conversation. It’s not like I just jumped straight to your feelings. Besides, we only watched movies and fell asleep last night,” I explained, clearly leaving out parts of the night.
“Oh cut the crap. You know exactly what we did last night. We need to discuss that because that was crossing the line,” she pestered.
“What exactly did we do last night?” I questioned, trying to get her to say the actual term.
“Will you quit it? I’m not going to say it. This is already embarrassing enough as it is without you tossing in your creeper fetish,” she said.
I burst out laughing from that last line. “Creeper fetish? What is that actually?” I giggled.
“I don’t know what to call it. Why else do you keep trying to make me talk dirty?” she snickered.
“I was just messing with you. Your emotions keep bouncing all over the place, but you always return to your normal self when I make jokes,” I said.
She raised an eyebrow in awe at my observation.
“Actually, I just had a change of heart. I think we should have an open conversation as it may be the only way to move on,” she said.
“Now you are speaking my language. So… where do we begin?” I asked before I remembered my previous statement. “Wait! I have a better question. Why did you decide to come onto me, and don’t act like you didn’t?”
She stared off into space for a few moments before answering.
“I… I really don’t know… This is about to be the most insane thing that I’ve ever admitted, but once I had a chance to let everything settle, my body… sort of craved your attention,” she said as she began blushing.
I practically fell over from that statement as it was the most off the wall thing she could have said. I tried to gather myself quickly though, so I could get more out of her.
“Obviously I fought you off at first because it was just too shocking. Who in their right mind would not put up resistance in that situation? But in all actuality, I was only doing what I thought I should do. What was expected of a mother. kaçak bahis Which was, react harshly to snap you out of that behavior. Threaten you, scold you, hit you, anything I could to instill fear,” she said before taking a long pause.
“Ohh… okay, but what about the next time we met?” I asked while trying to seem cool, but I was now focused on every word she said.
“I will get to that, hold on… A strange thing happened the first night when you forced me down. I was devastated at the time. I felt like I failed as a mother to guide you properly, but that was not all. I was also getting… sort of… turned on at the same time,” she continued.
My jaw hung open at that revelation.
“How could my own son, who was doing sexual acts on me by force, turn me on? You think you know yourself until you are put in an intense situation and you find out different. I went in the shower and cried to myself. Not only was I hurt from what you did, but I was also confused at what my body was doing. I tried desperately to get my thoughts on track but to no avail. It made me confused about who I actually was. How was something like this even possible? This next part is… is really embarrassing, but I touched myself to the thought of you forcing me down while I was in the shower,” she said while looking at the floor.
My eyes almost popped out of my head because of how far they were stretched open. What an absolutely shocking story. I could do nothing but sit in silence as I waited for more.
“I honestly don’t even know what I was doing. Why would I allow myself to do that when I knew better. Even though I would argue and scold myself, the craving was not going anywhere. When you left to take dad to the airport, I got everything prepared so that you would see a similar scene to when you first forced yourself on me. I was anxious for you to come back as I wanted you to repeat it again,” she said while still avoiding eye contact.
I had no words to give her as I couldn’t believe this shocking confession was coming out of my mother’s mouth. It made sense though as the house was loaded with perfume when I came back in.
“Did I have a rape fetish that I didn’t know about? I have no clue what I was thinking. When you finally came back and didn’t touch me, I had a sort of awakening moment snapping me out of my sick and twisted thoughts. The mother in me had came back and I felt disgust from the whole situation. I’m pretty sure you remember how I lashed out at you?” she asked while peeping up at me.
I nodded my head as my brain was too overloaded to speak.
“When I stormed off, I went in my room and touched myself all night. I was going through so many emotions. Angry at you, angry at myself, but horny at the same time. I know you must be shocked to hear this, but it’s the truth. I may be your mother, but at the end of the day, I am just a regular girl. You can pretty much fill in the blank of what happened the next day. I put up an act as I didn’t want to let on the fact that I was pretty much in the same boat as you. Hence the reason I let it go so easily and starting flirting around with you. I was actually desperate to get started,” she said.
I was pretty much floored at that point. I could barely wrap my head around what she was saying. Although she ran over everything, it still didn’t explain why she was pulling away from me today. If anything, she would let me continue.
“I understand that, but why would you pull away from me? After all of this I would think that you would enjoy it?” I questioned.
She looked up at me raising an eyebrow.
“Enjoy it? You are literally my son. I am battling to keep my own sex drive in check so that I don’t do something I regret. Do you not understand how insane that is? A mother trying to stop herself from sleeping with her son. I pretty much belong in the crazy house as I am a sick person,” she said as her voice began to crack.
Realizing she was insulting herself again, I said, “Hey, don’t talk about my mother like that. You can insult her all you want on your free time, but while in my presence, you will shower her with the love she deserves.”
This was a simple psychology trick that I used to let her know that I was on her side during this whole situation without being direct. After all, I was not there to bash her in the slightest.
The comment looked like it was received well as she returned a warm, love-filled smile. Nothing could melt my heart faster than her smile.
Feeling much better about the situation, even though we hadn’t really done anything but air each other out, I took the pillow and attempted to place it on her head to take some of the tension out of the room.
“Eww, keep it away from me,” she laughed as she fought my arms away.
“There is nothing nasty about this pillow,” I said as I smothered it into my face.
We both burst out laughing and just sat there for a few minutes.
“On a serious note though, we do need to set some boundaries. Not only is this kind of thing dangerous biologically speaking, but morally as well. It’s taking everything I have to stand in front of you and not cry my eyes out,” she said as she looked away from my gaze for the billionth time.
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