Warm softness envelops me as I drift between dreams and reality, my body nestled against something impossibly comfortable and familiar. The scent of vanilla and sleep-warmed skin fills my nostrils, pulling me gently toward consciousness like a fishing line reeling in its catch.
I crack one eye open, blinking against the morning light filtering through unfamiliar curtains. Confusion washes over me for half a second before my brain catches up to where I am and what my face is pressed against.
Mom's breasts. My face is literally buried between my mother's breasts.
I try to jerk back, but her arms tighten around me, holding me in place with surprising strength. That's when I notice the wetness, a massive dark spot on her blouse where my open mouth had been resting. Horror floods through me as I realize I've been drooling on her like an idiot.
Even worse, my morning wood is pressing insistently against her thigh, a betrayal so blatant I want to die on the spot. I must have shifted in my sleep because now I'm practically humping her leg like some horny dog.
Mom's fingers thread through my hair as she feels me stir. "Good morning, sleepyhead," she murmurs, her voice thick with amusement.
I try to shift away, but she holds me firmly against her. My eyes flutter fully open, meeting her gaze. The blue of her irises seems especially vibrant in the morning light, watching me with an expression that makes my stomach flip.
"You really made a mess on me, didn't you?" She smirks, glancing down at the wet spot on her blouse. "First inside of me, now all over me."
My entire body freezes, blood rushing to my face so fast I feel dizzy. The casual reference to the frat party, to what happened between us, sends my heart into overdrive.
"Mom, I…" I stammer, but she cuts me off with a gentle finger against my lips.
"Shhh, it's okay," she whispers, shifting slightly beneath me. The movement causes my erection to slide against her thigh, and I have to bite my lip to stifle a groan. "I love it when you're messy with me."
"What time is it?" I ask as sleep threatens to take me back.
Mom glances at the clock on her nightstand. "Almost nine," she says, her fingers still lazily combing through my hair. "Don't worry, you don't have class until eleven on Fridays, remember?"
"You're right," I mutter, relief washing through me. "Since the school is close, it's not really a rush."
I start to sit up, trying to wake up slowly. As I shift, Mom leans forward, her lips finding my neck with feather-light precision. The soft, warm press of her mouth against my skin sends an electric current racing down my spine.
"Mom," I whisper, but it comes out embarrassingly breathy.
Her kisses grow more insistent, trailing up and down the column of my throat. Each touch of her lips feels like it's searing into my skin, marking me. My eyes flutter closed against my will, my body responding even as my mind screams that this is wrong.
A strange thought floats through my head as I sink back against her. I've never slept this well before. Last night, wrapped in her arms, I slept like the dead, no tossing, no turning, no waking up in cold sweats from nightmares I can never quite remember. It's like our bodies were designed to fit together, puzzle pieces slotting perfectly into place.
Her mouth opens against my skin, and I feel the wet heat of her tongue, followed by the gentle scrape of teeth. She's sucking on my neck now, trying to mark me deliberately, while her hand slides down my stomach and beneath the waistband of my pants. Her fingers wrap around my already hard cock, squeezing like it was made for her.
The sensation jolts me back to reality. This is my mother. This is wrong. This has to stop.
I grab her wrist, trying to pull her hand away. "We can't."
Her fingers tighten around my shaft, making me gasp involuntarily. The pressure is exquisite torture, firm enough to make my protest die in my throat.
"Let Mommy show you how sorry she is for upsetting her baby," she whispers against my ear, her breath hot and damp. "Let me make it better."
Her hand starts moving, expert strokes while i try to physically remove her hand without hurting her.
One stroke. Two. Three. Each movement of her hand sends lightning coursing through my veins.
"Mom, stop, I can't…" My words dissolve into a strangled moan as her thumb circles the sensitive head, spreading the wetness gathering there.
Four. Five. Six.
"Oh god," I gasp, feeling the pressure building at the base of my spine, unstoppable and overwhelming.
Seven.
My back arches off the bed as pleasure explodes through me like a supernova. Mom's eyes widen as she watches my face contort, a look of wonder and triumph spreading across her features. Before I can even process what's happening, her lips crash against mine, swallowing my cry of ecstasy as her hand continues its relentless rhythm.
Her tongue invades my mouth with loving precision, nothing like Sabrina's nervous, eager explorations. Where Sabrina was tentative and uncertain, Mom's tongue moves with absolute confidence, claiming every inch of my mouth as her territory. The taste of her is intoxicating, something uniquely her, a flavor I couldn't describe if I tried for a thousand years but better than life itself.
I whimper pathetically into her mouth as pulse after pulse of release floods through me, coating her fingers and soaking my boxers. My hips buck wildly against her hand as she milks every last drop, never breaking our kiss. I find myself sucking on her tongue, desperate to keep her connected to me in this moment of complete surrender.
The world narrows to just this, her mouth on mine, her hand around me. I'm trembling, shaking like a leaf in a storm as the aftershocks ripple through my body. Still, we kiss, her free hand cradling the back of my head, fingers tangled in my hair to hold me exactly where she wants me.
When she finally pulls back, her lips are glistening, her blue eyes dark with satisfaction. She brings her hand up between us, fingers coated with my release, and slowly, deliberately licks them clean, one by one, never breaking eye contact.
With my cum still coating her tongue, Mom's blue eyes glitter as she speaks, "Seven strokes, Gabriel. That's quite the personal record for you, isn't it?"
The words hit me like ice water. A wave of shame washes over me in a suffocating wave, reality rushing back with brutal clarity. Sabrina's face flashes in my mind, her genuine smile, her awkward charm, the trust in her eyes when she asked me to be her boyfriend. My stomach twists with self-loathing.
"What's wrong?" Mom asks, noticing my expression darkening. She swallows what remains of my release, the motion of her throat making me wince with conflicted desire.
"I have a girlfriend," I whisper, the words barely audible even in the quiet room. "Sabrina. This... this is wrong."
Mom's expression softens as she reaches out to stroke my cheek, her touch gentle despite what we've just done. "Don't look so devastated, baby. It's not cheating." Her thumb traces my lower lip, still sensitive from our kiss. "This was just one last time. I promise our morning... activities... won't happen again."
I nod weakly, desperate to believe her, to believe I can somehow salvage my moral compass after this.
"Actually, just one more thing," she adds, her voice dropping to a honeyed whisper. "Give Mommy one more kiss like you just did, and I'll really stop. Okay?"
I draw back, a heavy sigh escaping my lips. "No, Mom. We can't do this anymore."
Her eyes flash with something dangerous, the soft maternal warmth vanishing in an instant. Before I can react, she lunges forward, one hand gripping the back of my neck while the other cups my jaw. Her lips collide with mine, demanding and possessive.
I try to pull away, but she follows, pressing me back against the headboard. Her tongue forces its way between my lips, exploring my mouth with desperate hunger. The taste of myself on her tongue makes her feel like she's really mine.
When she finally breaks the kiss, she's breathing hard, her blue eyes filled with love. A strand of saliva connects our lips for a moment before breaking.
"There," she whispers, her voice husky. "That wasn't so terrible, was it?"
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, shame burning through me like acid. "I need to shower," I mutter, scrambling off the bed and putting distance between us.
Mom reclines against the pillows, watching me with that predatory gaze that makes my skin crawl. "Go ahead, baby. I'll make breakfast while you get ready for class."
The normalcy in her voice after what just happened makes my head spin. I back toward the door, unable to tear my eyes away from her until my hand finds the doorknob.
"Gabriel," she calls as I'm about to escape. "This Sabrina girl... I'd love to meet her sometime. Maybe bring her over for dinner?"
The suggestion sends ice water through my veins. "I don't think that's a good idea."
Her smile widens, revealing perfectly white teeth. "Nonsense. What kind of mother would I be if I didn't meet my son's girlfriend?"
The thought of Sabrina and Mom in the same room makes me physically ill. "I'll think about it," I lie, knowing I'll do everything in my power to keep them apart.