I Feel the Same

All characters are 18 or older.

*****

There isn't much build-up to this story, because there wasn't much build-up to what happened. At least from my point-of-view.

I had begun thinking about Mom in that way some time before, but never saw any indication that she might reciprocate. We had always been really close, but she was also always Mom. At first, that worked against all my deep dirty feelings, but it soon became indistinguishable from them, became what turned me on most, made it so I couldn't separate Mom-as-Mom in all her comfort and warmth from her beauty and body. Or how she had me playing with myself every single night.

When I was still in high school, my cousin Sandra, Mom's oldest niece, got engaged and asked my mother to be a bridesmaid. Mom was thrilled—she and Sandra were close, more like sisters, even though Mom was a good 10 years older. My parents had planned on having one boy and one girl before they got divorced, and I suspected Mom's friendship with Sandra made that a little easier to bear.

She knew Mom hadn't dated much, if at all, in the months leading up to the wedding—Sandra had no taboos about sex talk—so she offered to get the hotel to comp a second room for us in case Mom "took to" any of the single guests. I was there in the room when she said this to my mother, who couldn't help blushing, nor more than a couple snuck looks in my direction. Even though my romantic feelings for her were getting more intense by the day, I wasn't bothered at all by the thought of her sleeping with someone else. I just wanted her to be happy, satisfied, loved no matter who it might be with.

What did bug me was my cousin's equally unfiltered insistence that I find someone at the wedding, too. Mom seemed to quiet down when Sandra brought it up, and let her go on with her spiel about all the pretty little things that were apparently dying to know me. At one point I looked over at Mom—she was looking back at me with such intensity that all my faculties seemed to freeze up. We stayed lost in each other till Sandra cleared her throat and caught us up, a little annoyed.

We left for the wedding shortly after noon the next Friday. I had recently got my learner's permit, so Mom agreed to let me start driving. She also reluctantly agreed to let me control the music—I had pre-programmed a bunch of songs into the car stereo. Really, my goal was to show her how many of her favorite singers I had collected into one playlist, just for the trip.

"Oh, I love Emmylou Harris," Mom sighed as "Red Dirt Girl" rumbled through the speakers and we pulled onto the highway. "You got any Bonnie Raitt on here?"

"Sorry. No."

"I saw both of 'em at a festival, back when I was pregnant with you. Your father was away somewhere on business on the last minute, even though we'd had tickets for months. So I said 'screw it' and went alone. Used the money from the other ticket for beer," she smiled shyly, letting her head fall back. "It was wonderful."

I smiled back, marvelling silently at how her beauty at that moment seemed both so otherworldly and natural. Mom looked at the console screen, where the cover of the album was displayed. "Gosh, she's beautiful, isn't she?"

"Not like you," I answered honestly, momentarily disarmed.

She cocked an eye at me. "Oh, yeah?"

I cursed my impulsiveness, but continued. "Her beauty's a little glam-y for me. Worked-over, I guess. I prefer yours. How it seems inherent to you, effortless." She looked startled for a moment, and I added: "But you're both dead-on equal in one sense: more beautiful the older you get."

Mom's eyes looked as if they'd been set ablaze by the Montana sun, dark coppery hair like trees on fire and even in all that radiance I could still see her blush. "I wasn't fishing." She smacked my chest playfully. I reached up and grabbed her hand, not breaking our gaze, intertwining our fingers.

"This is real nice, sweetheart," Mom started as if reading my mind, and cupped my cheek. "But dying would kinda ruin that, wouldn't it?" Then that hot hand on my cheek turned my face back to the road.

She always seemed to get the last laugh.

. . .

We switched seats after the next rest stop. I woke up from a nap to the sublime sounds of Mom singing along to the stereo. I watched the intense movements of her mouth, her trilling tongue for a few moments before speaking.

"Sounds real nice, Mama."

She jumped a little, bringing a hand to her breast. "Oh! Hi, sweetie." She blushed again. "Thank you so much for putting this playlist together. So sweet of you."

"Aw, it was all just a plot to hear you singing to 'em."

She scrunched up her face and stuck her tongue out.

"I sang along to this one at that festival in Missouri."

"That sounds nice, too."

"You have no idea." Her voice softened, and she looked a little absent. "Or maybe you do, somehow..."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, when we started walking over to see Bonnie, it started raining. With still all pretty sunlight around everyone, looking so excited. Then by the time she went on, and that voice came out, it was this amazing falling mist, and all those happy people, and me, rubbing my belly under my half-shirt, standin' there in the sunny rain with my baby boy," she paused and took a breath, "...inside me."

I said nothing. What could I say? That I was both profoundly moved and sporting enough wood to put out the windshield?

Now it was Mom's turn to reach a hand out to mine. We rode mostly in silence the rest of the way, buffeted by our sing-a-longs.

. . .

The wedding was at an old but well-kept hotel a little off the main roads, set back amidst a beautiful nest of trees.

Fortunately, the rest of our extended family had something like Mom and Sandra's close relationship to varying degrees, so family get-togethers were never a drag. This meant Sandra and Ted, her husband-to-be, felt comfortable enough to let everyone pick their own seats. (I didn't know anything about weddings, but Mom as we chose our own Mom told me that wasn't usually a popular option with wedding guests.)

I had just started talking with my cousin Glenn and his date, seated across from us, when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned to see an incredibly pretty server holding a bottle of wine, neck tickled with her teased blonde curls.

"Would that be one glass over here for dinner...or two?" She asked us with a smile.

Mom and I shared a look. "It's okay with me if it's okay with you," she said, eyes not leaving mine.

"Are you kidding? I've only been here for an hour, and you guys are already my favorite wedding group ever."

"That's an awful low bar to risk a liquor license for," Mom teased.

"Tell ya what." She looked at me and winked before turning to answer. "Let me know where I can find a strapping young cutie like this, and we'll call it even."

My mom chuckled. "Well, you start gettin' them all the same way, but at the end you better make sure you get to the hospital in time for an epidural. The pain ain't worth it." She winked at me. "No matter how cute they are."

It was the waitress's turn to blush as she laughed and touched Mom's arm. "See? Best wedding group ever."

. . .

After dinner, Sandra's younger sister Sophie came over to our table to say hello. Both she and Sandra were beautiful, but I had always been drawn to Sophie in particular. When we were younger, we'd sneak away during family get-togethers to make our own fun. I'd always had a crush on her.

Eventually, Mom insisted I stop "doting" on her and go off with some of the younger guests. Reluctantly, I stood. But right before I turned to leave, Mom suddenly reached up, grabbed me by the collar, and pulled my lips down to hers in a kiss. "But don't forget about your date." Her eyes held that same incendiary gaze they had in the car. "Okay?"

"Of course, Mom. I'm your man."

And it burned even brighter. I warmed myself by it before I left.

. . .

Sophie and I drifted around for a while, saying hi here and there, eventually gravitating to the patio where some friends and cousins were hanging out, drinking and passing a joint or two. The beaming bride looked over me and her sister and mock-scolded as we each took a hit. Christ, they're gorgeous, I thought to myself, eyes passing between them under the shifting network of magic lanterns. I couldn't help thinking about a photo set I had found online, of a set of triplets before a wedding, two sisters helping the third get dressed, and wondered if Sandra, Sophie, and maybe even my MILF of an aunt had shared a similar scene that afternoon. I then realized how horny the weed was already making me, and excused myself to clear my head.

Plus, I missed my mom.

. . .

Back inside, I put it in a request to the DJ and found Mom sitting with my Aunt Charlotte, her sister and the girls' mom. I asked Mom if she would like to dance, and she leapt up right away. My aunt said she couldn't blame her, but I doubt Mom heard her, zealously pulling me towards the dance floor like she was. I was transfixed by the sight of her from behind in her backless dress, the fine yet fleshy ridges of her back gliding down to her wide ass. It swayed from side-to-side and had me almost fully hard before we reached the spot Mom had chosen, a fair bit to the side, moonlit across the floor by a series of small windows above.

Bonnie Raitt began the first words of "I Feel the Same" and Mom gripped around the back of my neck where she'd laced her fingers. She looked at me intently. "Was this you? This song?"

Truthfully, I had only asked for Bonnie Raitt. I knew next to nothing about her, just that earlier wasn't the first time I had heard Mom singing along to her. But I just smiled knowingly, and told her I loved her.

"Please believe me, I feel the same" sang sweetly from the speakers and Mom looked at my dreamily, eyes glistening just a little. "I love you, too, Bradley."

I leaned in to peck her on the cheek, but she turned her head and met my lips with her own. I froze, stunned, and I think she was too, at first. I heard her inhale sharply and felt my lips being kneaded, like I was at a distance from myself. But then her tongue touched mine and I was rocketed into the moment, my virginal moves trying desperately to keep up with her expert ones. I was worried I went too far when I wrapped my lips around her tongue and she immediately pulled back and closed her eyes. She re-opened them and looked around quickly; no one had seen us.

"Everything okay, Mom?"

"I don't know, honestly." I couldn't read the expression on her face. "How are you feeling?"

"G-good," I sputtered, maybe too eagerly. She smiled and I tried to steady my nerves.

"Didn't have too much to drink?"

"Nope."

"Didn't smoke any of the wacky tobacky with Sophie and her friends?"

"No!" I lied.

"'Kay. Just checking."

"Why?"

Just then the chorus of the song came round again. Mom sighed and moved her face towards mine. Bonnie Raitt's "I feel the same" was joined in an instant by Mom's low breathy mimic right into my ear, ringing through my body like a shotgun blast.

"Bradley?" Mom jolted me awake. A song I didn't recognize was playing. "Listen to me, okay?" She giggled, smiled with complete understanding. "I'm going to go up to my room now." She pressed her extra key into my palm. "I want you to wait five minutes, then come up. Got it?"

I swallowed. "Five minutes. Then follow you up...to your room."

"Good boy." She kissed me on the cheek, then shifted her lips into the small hot space beside my ear. "This is going to be so good, Bradley. I love you more than anything, sweetheart."

And then she was gone, leaving me to kick off the longest five minutes of my life with a hard-on that was rapidly approaching full-strength.

What the hell do you do while waiting to fuck your mom?

I scanned the ballroom aimlessly, trying to quiet my nerves. There were still quite a few people dancing and mingling. I looked for Sophie but couldn't find her.

I'd decided to head to the washroom to wait out my sentence when I glanced past the bar and met a pair of eyes that had apparently been waiting for mine: the cute blonde server's. She waved me over, smiling mischievously, and I shuffled across to her with lead feet. The last thing I needed right now was another gorgeous older woman.

"You look like you could use a drink," she said.

"I don't know. Can you still? Couldn't you get in trouble?"

"That depends." She winked. "Do I still have your mom's permission?"

"Definitely," I said and smiled through my blush at the mention of my mother. I took a sip of the drink she had made me. (Gin, straight. I liked this woman.)

"I, uh, don't think I actually got your name," I told her.

"Katy."

"I'm Brad."

"I know. Your mom told me."

"She is the social one in the family."

"Oh, I saw you out there," she winked, jerking her head towards the patio. "You looked like you were doing all right for yourself."

I shrugged.

"Say, where did that beautiful lady get off to?"

"She, uh, went to bed," I said, trying to hide my quickly-reddening cheeks. "Tired."

"Makes sense. She put up quite a fight, beating off all those horndog wedding crashers."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I saw at least two try to get her away from the party and back to their rooms. But she told them she was here with her man."

"She did?"

"That would be you, wouldn't it?"

"I guess so." Where was this going?

"Well then. She's a very lucky woman."

There was no hiding the blush now. I decided to get out while the going was good and downed the remains of my drink. "Thanks for that," I told her. "Think I'm gonna call it a night."

"I would, too, if I had what was waiting for you."

"What?"

"Nothing. Say hi to your mom for me."

I said a stunned silent goodbye and headed for the elevators.

. . .

Maybe a little shaky after the quick drink, I soon found myself in front of Mom's door with no memory of how I got there. Thankfully, I hadn't forgotten the extra key.

When I stepped inside and closed the door, I saw that the lamp was on, and Mom was on the bed in a fluffy hotel bathrobe. I wondered immediately what was underneath.

She smiled. "Hi, sweetheart."

"Hi, Mom."

"You wanna talk for a second?"

"Sure..." I began, taking a seat beside her on the bed.

"We know we both want this, Bradley. But we need to talk about what each of us wants from it. Do you understand what I mean?"

"Sure, Mom."

"I think this is an important conversation to have with any sexual partner, to help make sure everyone is comfortable and no one gets hurt. And given who we are to each other, that's probably even more important now, right?" I nodded.

"So how long have you thought about me this way?"

"Not a real long time. Lately, it's gotten more...intense."

She smiled. "I've noticed."

"How long have you thought about me...like this, Mom?"

She didn't respond right away, then looked embarrassed and a little flustered all of a sudden. I guessed it was longer than she wanted to admit. I tried something else.

"The pretty server told me that you told some guys that...that I was your man. Is that how you want this to happen, Mom?"

That question seemed easier for her. She nodded as her face moved towards mine, and our lips met. She inhaled sharply, let out a low moan, and squeezed high on my thigh.

I started to unbutton my shirt but Mom stopped me and continued herself, her eyes both sleepy and vividly alive. "So beautiful, so perfect, so strong," she whispered, caressing my wiry muscles, planting soft kisses across my chest, which she was eagerly exposing. She tossed my shirt over her shoulder when she was finished, and tickled my tummy.

"I love you, you know," Mom said. "More than anything." Her hand went to my crotch and I jumped when her fingers found my shaft through my pants. She rubbed it. "Sure you're okay with this?"

"Oh God, Mom..."

"I'll take that as a—" She unzipped my fly and found my cock. "—yes."

"I love the way that feels, Mom. I never thought it would feel this good."

She looked up at me, surprised. "Is this—am I the first, to..."

"Yes, Mama," I replied softly, using a name I hadn't called her in years.

"Oh, sweetie..." She took my hand and kissed it, then quickly shucked the rest of my clothes and gently guided me to my back, settling on top, opening her robe to reveal the nothing underneath and letting her full breasts pancake atop my chest. She kissed the tip of my nose, sucked a second, and started to slide those nipples slowly down my torso, which tensed with each inch. Her lips followed, kneading my skin till they puckered tightly around my nipple, teasing it up and hard then spreading and slurping and soon leaving long wet streaks as she lovingly tongued my chest across to the other nipple. She did away with the kissing this time and bit down, hard, shooting white heat down my arms and causing my whole lower half to leap up involuntarily. My cock surged and found itself in the valley of my mother's chest, smothered in her sweet soft flesh, and I came.

"Oh, goodness..." Mom let out in a low breath, moaning. I grunted and my head fell back to the pillow. I was about to apologize for coming so quickly when I looked down and saw Mom greedily sucking my cum from her tits. They were big enough that she could get the tips and a bit more into her mouth. I was mesmerized.

"Sorry," she giggled when she saw me gawking. "I love cum."

"Can you, uh...say that again, Mom?"

She slipped out of her robe and added it to our clothes pile, in the same motion crawling back up my body till her face was right above mine. "I love cum. I love your cum. I love...my son's cum."

I lunged up and kissed her hard. She seemed startled but fell into it right away, our tongues lazily coating each other, the taste of me passing between us. When we finally broke, she had a look on her face that I'd almost describe as pride.

"Hey, Mom?"

"Yes, my love?"

"I think I love cum, too."

She laughed from her gut and kissed me again.

"Well, let's get you some more then."

. . .

Mom's tongue-bath continued on my balls, widening and flattening out and forming itself perfectly to the underside of my sac. She hummed, sending shockwaves through my loins, and probed the thin skin eagerly with the tip of her tongue. It was like she wanted to take in every impression my body could possibly offer.

"God, I love the way you smell," she said quietly, burrowing her nose into my sparse mess of pubes. "My baby boy."

"Love you, Mom..."

"Gonna suck your cock now, 'kay?" Her voice was low and throaty, tickling my nuts. I could only grunt in response as her mouth took in the head of my cock, just the head at first, sucking in tight and thrusting out and around with her tongue. Her right hand grabbed my left, our fingers intertwining, and her other went to my nipple, pinching and pawing. More of me disappeared down her throat, inch by inch, till she was nibbling on my pubes.

Suddenly, Mom grabbed my feet and raised my legs up, my knees ending tight to my chest and her mouth sucking like a sea creature down my underside. I giggled, which made her giggle

"You like that, sweetie?"

"Uh-huh. I like..." I decided to be completely honest. "I like being so exposed to you, Mom."

She smiled brilliantly. "That makes me feel so good. Hopefully," she said as her head again disappeared, "...this'll make you feel good." And then her tongue was at my bottom hole, wide and whole at first, circling quicker, then quicker, then an inch inside as my hips thrust up, making Mom struggle to stay inside of me. Almost nothing had ever felt so good—I flinched again with my whole lower half as she slurped up my insides. I could hear a chuckle smothered deep underneath me.