Thanksgiving with My Mom

I don't get to see my mother much. I thought about it every time I saw the photo of her. When I was sixteen she remarried a Canadian and hopped the border to live with him. Cheaper healthcare and all that, I suppose. The good thing is I like the guy. Frank was his name. An average kind of name for an average kind of guy. He had worked at a pulp mill, had for most of his life. After divorcing his previous wife, found my mom on an online dating site.

My mom had been through a long line of disappointing and borderline abusive boyfriends and husbands since she first divorce my dad when I was a kid. So it was nice when she finally met Frank.

My sisters and I grew up spending half our days with mom, and half with dad. But of course, that sort of schedule was hard to keep up when she lives in a different country. Granted, it's Canada, but it's still a different country - four hour drive if the roads were good, which they weren't on the Canadian side during the winter, and my mom drove a tiny little Kia. I didn't like the idea of her on the roads alone any more than her new husband did. So visits were few, and limited.

When I graduated high school, I tried a few things, including college, but nothing seemed to really work. I probably kept in touch with her about half as much as I should have, but on the rare occasions when we'd finally meet up again, I always loved every moment. My mom had always been my rock, the one woman in my life I knew loved me unconditionally.

She had a rough relationship with my oldest sister, and sometimes my other sister as well. But I always tried my best as the youngest to be as little trouble as possible. And when I say she had a rough relationship with my sister, I mean the two of them didn't speak to each other for two years at one point. So I saw the heartache it put through my mother. I wanted nothing more than to make her happy.

Now, thankfully, after a long weekend and several bottles of wine - or so I'm told - my sister and her managed to patch things up. Truths were told, tears were shed, but in the end, they came out happy.

Now, 22 and living in my own house - well, with roommates - working 40 hours a week, I find myself thinking of my mom more often.

I should text her, I thought to myself, Ask about Thanksgiving.

My roommates and I were going to have a big dinner for our first thanksgiving in the new house. They were inviting their parents, so I wanted had been meaning to invite my mom as well.

Unplugging my phone from the charger on my nighstand, I pulled up the last threat between me and my mom.

Morning mom!

I set the phone down; she usually didn't respond immediately. I laid my head back down on my pillow and enjoyed the feeling of the early morning sunlight on my bare back. Barely keeping my eyes open, I saw myself in the mirror across the room. My long brown hair was wild with bed head, and my modest beard was misshapen and poofy in spots. Most people don't tell you a beard really does require upkeep.

Minutes passed and I heard my phone vibrate.

I tapped it awake to read mom's reply; Morning, handsome!

I told her about the Thanksgiving dinner we were having, and told her Frank was welcome to join us as well.

In the time it took me to brush my teeth in the bathroom across the hall, I was able to get a response from her.

I would love that! I have to get my bubby fix! ;) Frank won't be able to come, though. He's got work all through to that weekend.

I smiled at the nickname. She had called me bubby since before I could remember. She was kind enough to refrain from pet names whilst among my friends, but whenever we were in the house, it was bubby. To be honest, I kinda liked it. Before, whenever she had been feeling down about my sister and her, I would tell her, "You've always got your bubby" and it would always cheer her up.

That's too bad. But we'd love to have you! Me especially of course :)

Her reply came within a minute.

Well count me in! Thanks, honey.

I replied quickly, Of course, momma :)

I wasn't expecting her to reply, but five minutes later my phone vibrated with life once more.

Your sister told me about all those times you stood up for me and defended me when you two would fight about me. I felt my stomach clench at the thought of it. I don't know why, I guess it made me wonder what else my sister had told her about our fights. A lot of nasty things were said...

Another text finished her thought, I just wanted to let you know how much I appreciate that, son. You're a blessing and a wonderful young man.

I was touched. Call me a momma's boy, but I don't care, nobody can make me blush like my mom.

Thanks mom. I'm sure I got it all from you. Not to mention these damn good looks. I chuckled at my own jest.

Mom's response was quick; Hahaha! Did you just say I had damn good looks?

Of course I did. You're gorgeous, mama! ;)

I wasn't sure why I added the winky face. Stupid as it may seem, a winky face means something - or so my roommate and I had agreed after a long debate over many beers.

Well thank you, son ;) I'll see you in a few weeks.

I left the conversation there, and let myself rest easy again. I had the day off, and fully intended to sleep in as long as possible.

The weeks came and went in a blur of monotonous work and binge Netflix-ing. A pitiful existence, I know, but when you're working 40 hours a week and everyone you know and hang out with is either engaged, married, or has a kid with someone, you don't get out much.

So, yes, it has been a while since I've gotten laid. A few months ago I had a thing with an old ex. She randomly texted me the morning after her birthday and told me to "Maybe come fuck me real quick."

To which my response was, "I can do that".

Few hours and two condoms later, I was driving back to my house, fully aware I would likely not hear from her until her next birthday. It was something of an unspoken tradition that I had established with her over the last two years. Well, now three. The first year we were dating, the second year she was trying to get back with me. This time I think she was just lonely.

Anyway, back to my point. Thanksgiving was here and my house was bustling. Four bedrooms, two baths, a large living room and a pocket-sized kitchen made for an interesting situation with all of our parents here. My best friend and roommate Rick had his mom and dad here, his fiance (and my third roommate) Kacie had her mom and dad, which meant the game room and the spare room were taken. My mom had ditched her overnight bag on my bed.

My mom and Kacie's mom worked in tandem in the kitchen, having met long ago and always gotten along great. Rick's mom was at the table mixing drinks for everyone. She was the wild and crazy one that liked to drink at any opportunity. I kept my pride of my own mother to myself; not only was she the most friendly, but by far the most attractive. At 5,4', 120 pounds, my mom would tell you she's "fun-sized." Her long, dark auburn hair had been passed down to my sisters, whereas I had inherited my father's chestnut brown hair. One thing I could never help but notice and my friends would give me shit about it too; my mom had an ass that wouldn't quit. Not just big, but shaped perfectly, always in tight jeans or yoga pants; my mom definitely had a mothers hips but she had a brazillian swimsuit model's ass.

Today was no different. She wore a pair of tall, tanned boots over long black leggings, and a longsleeve white cotton top, a deep V in the neck exposing some of her cleavage when she bent low for the stove.

What am I doing? I thought to myself, looking back to the program that Rick had put on the living room TV. Checking out my mom?

Despite my conscience, I snuck a look back to the kitchen, and saw my mom bent at the waist over the counter, a pair of oven mitts up to where her sleeves were bunched, her long ponytail draped over her shoulder. I couldn't unglue my eyes from her ass in those black leggings. Against the white wall background, I could see every curve of every muscle in her firm legs. As far as I knew my mom only ran on the treadmill for excersize, but whatever she did, it was working amazingly.

When we all sat down for dinner and said grace, I had to set down my fork and knife and look across the table to my mom with an accusatory look.

"What?" she asked with a smile, her silver earrings glittering in the dining room light.

"I'm a little hurt that you haven't yet commented on the beard." I said, pretending to be hurt. I don't know why I even brought it up. I guess I just wanted to hear her say it looked good. After all, I had kept a clean shaven face all my life up until two months ago. Mom hadn't seen me in over four.

"I like it," she said with an honest grin. I watched her eyes scan over the lower half of my face. "No, it really looks good. You look like a man, I must say."

"I agree," Rick's mom chimed in from the other end of the table, flaunting her bleached blonde hair over her shoulder with a flutter in her eyes. "I hardly recognized you when I got here, sweetheart."

It wouldn't be unlike her to hit on me. Rick was constantly apologizing for it whenever she left. He loved his mom, but she was a drunk, and a flirt, even at her age. I tolerated it though. It was flattering, if I had to say so. It was nice to know older women found me attractive.

I still found my mom's approving glimmer in her eye far more satisfying.

Later that night we all piled up on the couches and watched the new superman movie. My mom admitted that she had never seen it and nearly all of us lost our minds.

So there we were, eight people on two couches, one L couch and one three seater. My mom and I were sat at the head of the L on the first couch. I sat in the corner with my mom to my right. We shared a bowl of popcorn which I held in my lap. I got lost in the movie quite quickly, and it seemed my mom did too.

There came a scene between a mother and her son, a terribly sad scene which even I had to look away from, and I felt my mom's hand reach for my thigh. Just below my knee, but I there it was, her soft, nurturing hands on my thigh.

Any other night I might have disregarded it, but I hadn't forgotten the sight of her bent at the waist, how delicious her ass looked in the black leggings. Even now, leaned up against the pillow I could see her shapely form from behind, and was thankful for the bowl of popcorn covering my slowly growing bulge in my pants.

Next thing I knew Kacie was coming into the room with a stack of our blankets in her arms.

"Blankets for everyone," she said, throwing them over each pair of people in the couches. My mom and I got a dark soft one, which my mom and I cuddled up closely to share together. Because of the way my cushion was lower than hers, my mom sat partially on my lap, my arm around the back of the couch, her hand still on my thigh, though now noticably higher.

I had to of course ditch the bowl of popcorn, but now I had the cover of the blanket, so it didn't matter. Suddenly I couldn't help myself, knowing I could get rock hard right now so close to my mom and she wouldn't even know it, the thought of it was almost enough to get me there alone. But instead I moved my arm from the back of the couch to her shoulder, and I hiked my leg up on the couch which caused her hand to slide further up my thigh.

In fact if my dick had happened to start growing to my right thigh she probably would have been able to grab it by now. But thankfully it was pointing hard to port just half a foot from my mom's ass.

The movie dragged on, and eventually mom's hand on my thigh began to rub back and forth under the sheet. It was nothing more than an affectionate petting, I told myself, like a rub on the back. But this isn't on my back, a voice replied in my head. What if she's doing this on purpose? What if she's trying to cop a feel?

The thrill of the idea made my dick ache to be released from it's khaki prison, but I loved it. Then with one of her brushes back up my thigh I felt it; her pinky just barely brushed against my balls.

She didn't slow down or show signs of noticing, but she didn't come close enough to touch it again. I don't know if I could have handled it if she did. Suddenly she leaned over and I felt my breath catch in my chest, but she whispered into my hear softly, "I know you were going to sleep on the floor but you can sleep with me tonight if you want."

Instinctively, I shook my head, and whispered back. "You can have my bed. You'll need the rest." I immediately regretted saying it.

"I would sleep better with my bubby by me." she smiled.

I gave her a look, but rolled my eyes in a okay, I'll do it, sort of way.

Most nights when we had been camping or spending one of our brief visits together at a hotel we would have to share beds. We had always given each other space those nights, but somehow tonight I felt would be different. By the time the movie had ended, only Rick and his mom were still awake. She took the pleasure of waking everyone else up, which Kacie's parents were particularly unhappy about, but everyone sleepily shuffled off to their respective rooms.

"Ready bunkmate?" My mom asked with sleepy eyes.

"I think so," I said, venturing a hand into my pants once she wasn't looking. I pulled my cock up to my waistband to keep it hidden for now; a classic trick. I personally liked it because I could keep my dick hard and no one would know.

When my mom retreated to the bathroom to change I stripped down, reaching into my boxers and giving my cock a few good rubs, relishing in how hard I was for my mom. I had never been like this before, and I don't know if I just needed to jerk off and get it out of my system, but I was insatiably horny.

I heard the door to the bathroom open and I dove for the covers to hide my erection. My mom emerged from the bathroom and entered my room with my college t-shirt on and nothing but her panties. I knew, because my shirt was barely long enough to leave just the bottoms of her perfect ass cheeks hanging out.

This will not go well.

"Ready for bed?" she asked, plopping down in my bed next to me. She turned off the lamp and we were plunged into darkness.

"Thanks for joining me, bubby." I heard my mom say from over my shoulder. I knew from the way she had climbed into bed she was facing my back.

"Sure, mom." I whispered back.

"You didn't tell me if you're seeing any girls."

I felt my cock twitch.

"You wanna talk about it now?"

"Well if you want to," I felt her hand on my side suddenly, and my cock hardened even more.

"Not much to say," I said, clearing my throat. "Hasn't really been anyone for a while."

"Aw, poor bubby." she whispered, and her hand stroked along my side now, with motherly affection. Just like during the movie.... "It's tough when you're young, I know."

I heard movement from behind me and the mattress shook as mom adjusted her position behind me. I felt her arm wrap closer around me now, and her feet touched mine.

"I remember how it feels. You just wanna fuck anything that moves, don't you?" she asked with a laugh.

"Mom!" I gasped, surprised. I had only ever heard her talk like that one year at a new years party. She had gotten drunk off martinis and accidently flashed me. What a perfect image for me to suddenly remember vividly, I chided myself, feeling my mom's body get closer to me. You idiot, you played with fire. What are you going to say when she see's you're hard as a rock?

"Oh, come on we're both adults now, we can talk about this can't we?" she asked with a pleading tone, her soft, warm hands now slowly rubbing across my chest, and I could feel her tits on my back, even through my college t-shirt I felt her nipples on my bare back. Holy fuck she's turned on too?!

"Well, I guess you were 22 once too," I said, unable to think of anything clever.

"Oh," she suddenly dug her nails into my chest, but relinquished immediately, "my little boy is 22. That's how I know I'm getting old."

"Please," I laughed, "You're the hottest mom I know. Shit ask one of my friends."

She didn't laugh like I did, but her silence in the darkness showed her appreciation. But then I felt her leg drape over mine, and I made the grave mistake of rolling my hips over. It was instinctual, but it caused her leg fall onto my rock hard erection. She ended up with my cock pressed firmly against her inner thigh, mere inches from the place I came out as a baby. I felt my cock twitch, and so did she.

"Not so much of a little boy, are you?" she giggled. Oh my god, my mom is flirting with me. "No, you're my man now aren't you?" she said, straightening up, and leaning over me. My heart pounded in my chest as my mothers long dark hair dangled over me while she climbed on top of my hips until she was straddling my dick full on cowgirl style, with nothing but her light blue panties and my boxers between us.

When I didn't reply, she stood up on her knees, releasing the pressure on my cock and with it the amazing feeling. She reached for the lamp on my nightstand and turned it on, revealing the woman I had known to love as my mother for 22 years, her pussy lips clearly visible through the wetness of the fabric in her panties. "Are you a man now, bubby?"

"Yes, yes I'm a man." I said, unable to take my eyes off her wet pussy. I wanted so badly to rip them to the side and shove my cock inside her. She would love it, I knew she would, but I couldn't make myself do it. I wanted to wait. Somehow I knew waiting would make it better for me.

She sat back down on my throbbing cock, her perfect ass cheeks resting on my balls. "I thought so too." she smiled. Then I watched my mother's face contort into pleasurable coos and moans as she began to slowly rock her hips back and forth over my dick.

"And as a man, you have needs. Don't you agree?" she said with a wicked grin, one hand on my chest and one groping her left nipple.

"Yes, I do."

"And all mommy's need to take care of their men, don't they?" she asked, grinding her pussy hard onto my cock, rubbing pre-cum out and drenching my boxers. I felt the dampness of her panties grinding against my own wetness as well.

"Take care of me, mommy." I said in barely more than a breath.

My mom let out a soft moan at the words, as if the acknowledgement that she was fooling around with her very own son was as much of a turn on for her as it was to me. With no further notice, she hopped off my pelvis and began to tug at my waistband.

I lifted my ass to allow her to completely remove my boxers, and she came down on her elbows by my waist, an enthralled smile written on her face. She leaned on one elbow, her other hand slowly reaching for my naked cock. When she finally grabbed on, I could have came right there.

"Don't cum yet, bubby. Mommy has to take care of you the right way."

I didn't dare speak unless asked a direct question. I wanted nothing more than for my mom to take over me, and rock my world with her years of experience in fucking like a pro. The fact that she was my own mother just made it ten times more sexy.

While I was lost in my thoughts, I hadn't noticed how close my mother's face was to my pulsing, purple headed cock. But before I knew it she had planted a big wet kiss on the head, and even licked at the slit when precum oozed out of me. I gasped, not realizing I was even holding my breath, and then she swallowed me.

I felt my mom's tongue wrap around my veiny shaft inside her mouth and it was all I could do to keep from moaning very loudly. She took my entire length into her mouth slowly, then pulled her hair out of the way for me to see her look up into my eyes as she slowly pulled back.

"You like that, bubby?" she asked when she popped my swollen cock from her lips and began jerking it next to her face.