One Night Stand. With My Mom.

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The doorbell rang with a loud, high-pitched buzz. I got up off the couch, stepped into a pair of gray sweatpants, and dragged my tired body towards the door. I knew it was probably my mom, since she’s been my only visitor recently, and I didn’t want to answer the door and face her wearing only a ratty, stained undershirt and raggedy old boxers.

“So is this how you’re going to spend your Friday night?” Mom asked with a stern look as I opened the door and saw her standing in the hallway of my apartment building. Her arms were crossed and she was tapping her left foot impatiently.

“It’s how I’ve been spending most of my Friday nights.” I grumbled, turned around, went back inside, and quickly plopped back down on the couch.

“You can’t keep up like this. You need to get out more, meet a woman.” Mom replied, marching into my apartment and immediately starting to tidy up the place, which I must admit, has gotten a bit messy. Being a recently divorced man, especially one used to his wife doing all the housework, has made me into somewhat of a slob.

“I know I do. Things have just been rough. I’m working like a bastard, sixty hour weeks, and about all the women I’ve met as of late haven’t exactly been too pleasant. After the string of bad dates I had after the divorce, I guess I’ve kind of given up for the time being…”

“Tell me about it. I never liked dating. Maybe that’s why I married your dad at such a young age. He was the first guy who I could stand being around for more than five minutes.”

“And now you two have been together for what, twenty six years? That’s definitely more than five minutes. Maybe there’s some hope for me.”

Mom took a seat next to me on the couch and peered down at the un-vacuumed carpet warily.

“Yes, it’s certainly been far longer than five minutes. But things can get awfully boring when you’ve been with someone that long. If you thought you were sick of Lainey after two years, think of what I go through…”

This was the first time I’d ever heard her talk about her marriage with my dad, so it was surprising to hear her speak so candidly about things between them, and more surprising to learn things weren’t going well.

“But you two seem so happy. Aren’t you?”

“Appearances can be deceiving. Don’t worry about it, though. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“It’s alright, mom, we can talk.”

“No, I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I want to talk about you, home every Friday night. When are you going to start dating again? Or at least go out with friends?”

I let out an agitated sigh and shot her a perturbed look.

“Mom, come on. I don’t want to talk about that right now. Why are you here on a Friday night, instead of being with dad?”

Her face mirrored my perturbed look, twofold.

“I told you I don’t want to talk about that!” She hissed.

Neither of us said anything for a couple minutes. We both stared at the TV, which was tuned to The Discovery Channel . A documentary was on with animals in the wild aggressively mating.

“So is this what you’re going to do? Watch animal porn?” Mom sarcastically inquired.

I looked at over at her and we broke into mutual laughter.

“Hey, why don’t we go out? You and I?” I asked her, smiling and trying to put on my best charm possible.

“What do you mean, go out?” Mom replied, her face cringing a bit, but I noticed she was also blushing.

“I mean, like us going out, to have some fun. If you’re bored and I’m not doing anything, and you want me to go out, well, why don’t you go out with me?”

“Um, why don’t I go out with you? Because I’m your mother, that’s why! What’s wrong with you tonight? Are you coming down with a fever?” She reached out to touch my forehead.

“No, I’m fine, mom.” I grabbed her hand down from my forehead and held it in mine. “Let’s go out on a date, a platonic one, of course. We’ll just go out, have a few drinks, have a good time. Who knows, maybe one of us will meet someone and get lucky.”

Mom started nervously laughing, shook her head, and rolled her eyes at me.

“What has gotten into you this evening? I am not looking for anyone! I’m married, remember? To your father! But, maybe I will go out with you… on a friendship sort of date. I could use a good night out. It’s been a while.” She put her other hand on top of the one I was holding and smiled at me.

“So can I get your phone number?” I asked. She pulled her hands away, chuckled, and lightly slapped me on the chest.

“But seriously, tomorrow night, Saturday, what are you doing? Any plans?”

“None at all. I was probably going to be in front of the TV with your dad. Oh wait, no, I think it’s Charades night at the Robinsons’… I really don’t want to go there…”

“I thought you loved the Robinsons?”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me…”

“Oh baby…” I cooed and bobbed my head slowly.

“You’re hitting on your mom? What is wrong with you?! I don’t know if I should go fixbet out with such an ungentlemanly gentleman caller.” She crossed her arms again and turned her head away from me.

“I’m just kidding. Come on, give me a chance. I promise I’ll conduct myself in the most honorable way possible.”

She peered over at me, and gave me that skeptical, one eyebrow raised look.

“Come on, mom. Let me pick you up around 9. I’ll promise dad not to bring you home too late.”

“Hmm… Okay, I think I’ll let you.”

She got up and just stood there staring at me, not saying anything.

“What?” I asked, shrugging my shoulders.

“Aren’t you going to accompany me to the door? You really are out of practice with women!” She angrily snapped.

This is how my mom always was, a feisty one, slightly overbearing. Growing up I always hated it, because she’d rip into me about almost anything, and still does, but now, with all this talk of going on a date with her, her feistiness all of a sudden turned me on, and I have to say that I’d never really felt this way about her, either, and I must admit, it was exciting.

“Sorry. Very rude of me. Please accept my apologies.” I got up and walked with her arm in arm to the doorway.

“Tomorrow evening at 9. Don’t stand me up. And please wear something better than those sweatpants. Those are all I’ve seen you in recently.”

“I promise to dress well. We’ll go somewhere nice too. It’ll be fun.”

“I hope so.” Mom said. She then moved towards me and kissed me on the cheek, which I can’t remember her ever doing before.

“See you then.” She said in a sort of breathy voice. As she walked down the hallway to the elevator, for the first time, I took a prolonged look at her ass, which actually filled out those blue jeans she wore pretty damn well.

After I closed the door and sat back down on the couch, I wondered what exactly just happened. I was sort of kidding about going out with her and somehow that turned into us really going out. But not only that, she seemed to be flirting with me before she left. It all happened so quickly, too, but thinking about it started to turn me on. A lot.

This was really the first time I’d thought about my mom in a different, sexual type way. She’s a pretty lady, don’t get me wrong, but she’s no supermodel. Still, she has a pretty face and has always kept in shape over the years. When she was walking down the hallway, her ass really did look good, all tight and round, in those jeans she had on.

All of a sudden I sprouted an erection, pulled my sweatpants down, grabbed some Kleenex from a box nearby, spit in my hand and started furiously masturbating to the thought of bending my mom over my couch, pulling those jeans down off her ass, and fucking her doggystyle.

Since I hadn’t jerked off in a few days I came rather quick, and afterwards, I felt guilty about beating off to my mom, but it was also hot, thinking of her like that, especially with her scent still lingering in my apartment.

I pulled up my sweatpants, flushed down the tissue, and went back to watching TV. But I couldn’t focus. The only thing I could think about was my mom. I wondered if there was any chance she’d let me do anything with her tomorrow night. Highly unlikely, she’s always been sort of a prudish, goody-goody, church going type, and she is, of course, my mom. In all likelihood, we’d probably just go eat and I’d drop her off, but still, the mere thought of it was putting my libido into overdrive.

I couldn’t really believe I was thinking of her like this, though. These weren’t thoughts I’d envisioned myself having, and I felt disgusted with myself for having them. However, I couldn’t stop. My mind was racing out of control for the rest of the night, and before I went to sleep, I masturbated a couple more times to the thought of fucking her.

Saturday flew by. I woke up late and cleaned the apartment. Not that I thought we’d come back here, but I didn’t want it to be a sty, just in case. I spent most of the afternoon doing push-ups and sit-ups, and as evening approached, I showered, shaved, and put on a well-ironed pair of black dress slacks, Armani wingtips, and light blue button down polo shirt.

Combing my hair in the mirror, for the first time in a while, I felt comfortable with how I looked. I’m not the most athletic, tall, or suave, but at 25, I’m still a young and decent looking guy. I should go out on more dates and be with more women, I thought. Maybe this thing with mom tonight, if anything, will work up my confidence and get me back into the groove. Even if nothing happens, which is most likely, since she’s my mom, at least I’m getting back out there with someone.

On the way to pick her up I bought a bouquet of roses at the 7/11 down the street from my apartment. I thought about chocolate, too, but figured that’d be too cheesy. When I arrived at my parents’ house, which is only half an hour away, I stepped out of the car and felt sort of strange to be walking fixbet giriş up to the house I grew up in, with flowers in hand, about to take my mom out for a date. Fuck it, I thought, coming back here like this was a lot cooler than the usual boring holiday and family functions.

I strutted confidently up to the doorstep and pushed the doorbell. That annoying chime sound rang out and brought back bad memories. I always hated hearing that sound growing up. It was definitely one of the several motivating factors in me finishing high school early and leaving home at seventeen. But so was my overbearing mother and here I was coming back home, ready to take her out on something of a date. Things in life really do change.

When mom opened up the door, I lost my breath for a second. She didn’t look anything like the way I’m used to seeing her. She almost always dresses conservatively, has her hair up in a bun, wears her glasses, etc, and usually a pair of somewhat tight blue jeans will be the most revealing thing she’ll wear. But not tonight. Tonight, she looked different, way different.

Upon opening the door, I saw one smoking hot, nearly unrecognizable female. She had on black stiletto heels, fishnet stockings, a black, high riding, tight velvet miniskirt, and gray mesh blouse, cut at the sides, leaving little to the imagination. Her lips were fire-red, coated in lipstick and lip gloss, her cheeks rouge, and her hazel eyes fully shadowed a dark blue, with singular short black stenciled lines drawn carefully from the outer edges of her almond eyelids.

Usually she has her hair up, and I’ve rarely seen her with it down, but tonight it was flowing just past her shoulders. She’d straightened it, too, and put in some blond highlights, which matched her strawberry light brownish mane quite well. Altogether, she looked rather stunning, beautiful even. I had no idea she could make herself look so hot. Not that she’s too old at 47, but the way she’d dolled herself up, she easily appeared to be around ten years younger.

“Wow, mom, you, you, you, ah, you, look great. Wow…” I cartoonishly stumbled around to speak at this point. I wasn’t expecting such a lovely creature to answer the door.

“That’s a good way to start off, with a compliment like that. Roses, too, mmmm, my favorite… You’re doing well so far.” Mom stepped out the door, but not before dad appeared from seemingly out of nowhere, with a very puzzled look on his face. I don’t think he’d seen mom like this in many, many years, if ever.

“You bring her home before 11.” He told me with a firm tone, which I couldn’t tell was serious or joking.

“Don’t worry. She’ll be just fine with me.” I shook hands with him and he continued to look at the both of us with a puzzled expression on his face.

Mom didn’t even look at him, sniffed the roses, and put them down on the counter inside, next to the front door, underneath the large family holiday portrait. She then walked back out and took my hand.

“Don’t wait up.” She said to dad, without making eye contact.

I looked over at him and shrugged.

“See you later, dad.” I said, waved bye him, and walked off with mom.

Dad just stood on the front porch staring awkwardly. I also noticed our next door neighbor, the nosey old cat lady, staring at us from her dining room window in bewilderment.

When we got out to the car, I opened the door for her.

“I see you’re being much more of a gentleman tonight.” She proclaimed, approvingly.

“At least for now I am.” I shot back, grinning widely.

“You better be on your best behavior. Maybe you’ll get to go out with me again if you do well this evening.” She said as I closed the door for her. I walked around, jumped in the driver’s side of my black Camaro, started the engine, shifted gears and peeled out of the driveway. I waved to dad, who was still standing on the porch, staring at us. He waved back very unenthusiastically.

Upon hitting the highway, mom smiled over at me.

“It’s good to be out again, isn’t it?”

“Sure is, mom. I’m glad you agreed to come out tonight. I think this was a good idea, for us both.”

“I think so, too. But do me a favor. From now on, for the rest of the night, call me Suzy. Just pretend I’m your date.”

“Okay… Suzy.” I replied and we exchanged grins. It felt strange calling mom by her first name, but I liked it.

Then I cranked up some tunes in the car, rolled the windows down a little, and the wind teased mom’s hair around and blew her blouse open a bit. I caught a glimpse of her black lace bra and noticed how large and firm her tits were. I’d never looked at them much but now I couldn’t take my eyes off them.

“Keep your eyes on the road, honey.” Mom snapped at me, then giggled.

“Right.” I said. Fuck, she’d caught me staring at her tits but didn’t seem to be too upset. That could be a good sign of things to come. I thought to myself about how wrong it was that I was thinking of trying to score with my mom, but I couldn’t help it. She was looking awfully good and it’d been a while since I’d been with a woman. It’d been since the divorce, actually.

Really though, the more I thought about trying to fuck my mom, the less I cared how deviant and immoral it supposedly was. Whose business was it anyway, what we did? She was my date, right? And what guy doesn’t want to score with his date? I made up my mind then and there that I was going to make a move on her if somehow the opportunity presented itself.

We got to the restaurant I picked, a popular French bistro, and the place was bustling. Valet parking took the car off us in a flash, and we were ushered inside by a flamboyantly French host, who seated us in the far right corner of the posh, intimate but spacious dining room, right near the fireplace. We ordered a bottle of pricey wine and decided on having the tasting menu. As I sat at the table, I couldn’t really comprehend just how bizarre it was to be with my mom like this, at a romantic French restaurant, sipping wine, but I liked it.

“This is quite a place. You picked well.” She said, sipping from her wine glass and glancing around.

“I came here a couple times with other dates a while back. Unfortunately, they didn’t go too well, but I loved the food.”

“I’m sure tonight will be better…”

“It already is, Suzy.” She blushed after I called her Suzy and looked so cute as she smiled and her dimples showed in those rosy cheeks of hers. All I could think about was how I was going to make a move on her but how fucking weird that would be. Although I’d already decided I was going to try, I didn’t know exactly how to go about it. How does one try to fuck his mom? This isn’t something you’ll find advice for in men’s magazines or dating websites.

I also worried about the possible ramifications. What if she turned me down? What would happen afterwards, if we did do anything? That could be an awkward situation, to say the least. But probably the drunker we both got, the easier it’d be, so I ordered another bottle of wine.

The food soon arrived and was absolutely divine. We laughed as we tried all the gross things French people cook and eat but somehow make taste delicious. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her giggle and laugh as much as she did over that dinner. And when she was laughing, her foot brushed up a couple times against my leg. At first I let it go, but then I figured I should say something.

“So are you playing footsie with me now, Suzy?”

“I don’t know, maybe I am…” She replied, shyly glancing away.

I then slipped my foot out of my shoe, reached under the table with my left leg, and rubbed my foot around on her shin. Her stockings and skin felt so smooth and soft. She didn’t seem to mind, either, at first, but then pulled away.

“Enough of that, you. If you put a run in my stockings I won’t be too happy.” She nervously exclaimed.

“Sorry, Suzy. I’m just playing around.”

“Where’d you learn to play footsie like that anyway, football practice? You have to be gentle, like this.”

She suddenly ran her foot up my leg, from around my ankle up to my knee. She did it so incredibly gently, and feather-like, but it felt amazing, and sent shivers up my entire body. It didn’t last long, though. I think she noticed how much I was enjoying it, and quickly retracted her foot.

“That’s enough footsie lessons for today.”

“Will there be more later?” I asked. I could feel myself getting bolder now and started to feel like I might really have a chance to do some stuff with her.

“Maybe…” She replied and coyly looked away.

I couldn’t really find words to say and the situation started to be become a bit awkward. We sat in silence for a while as we finished our dinner, but that silence was broken when we ordered the crème broule for dessert and we both loosened up. Following dessert, I picked up the bill and escorted her out, chivalrously, my arm looped around hers.

The valet came and we hopped in the car and took off. I’d had a lovely time but was sad the evening had likely drawn to a close. She’d probably want me to bring her back home, I figured, and I couldn’t think of any way to make a move on her.

“That was an excellent meal. Great atmosphere in that place, too.” I said, gripping the steering wheel and making a left turn towards the road that leads to the onramp for the highway.

“I don’t really want this evening to end.” Mom said, appearing a bit bummed out.

“Then let’s not let it. I know a good club we could go to.” I suggested and was surprised at myself for having had the sudden idea. “You up for it?”

“A nightclub? I don’t know… I haven’t been to one of those in years. Do you think they’ll even let me in?”

“Of course they will. I told you, you look great tonight. They always let in beautiful women.” My calling her beautiful made her smile at me furtively. “Besides, a guy I know from college is the co-owner of the place. We can get into the VIP section for free, too, and the VIP section there is a blast. Trust me, it’ll be fun. I’ve haven’t been in years, either, so it’ll be sort of new to me also. Come on, let’s do it.”

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