Mother's boy

On the eve of my eighteenth, I received the most bizarre or greatest gift from my mom.
Going back to the summer of 1994 when The Crow was in the theaters, I Swear by All-4-One was on the airwaves, FRIENDS was on television, and OJ made his remarkable run, I had learned to jerk off. I was only sixteen going on seventeen, and boy, was I going crazy. On my hit list then were Jennifer Aniston, Cindy Crawford, Tabitha Soren, Sandra Bullock, Tanya the head cheerleader at school, Gabby, my mom's friend, and my English teacher Ms. Hunt. It was a wonderful time, and I couldn't imagine how it could get any better, but then came Elizabeth. She was a girl at school, cute as a bug, and an excellent lay. She was the lead singer in a punk band in which I played bass.
Elizabeth and I started fucking in the winter of 1994 until we broke at the end of that school year in May of 1995. I was crushed and retreated from everyone and everything. I had graduated and was supposed to go to college in LA to study filmmaking, but instead, I stayed held up in my room.
My mom was a single parent, I never knew my loser father, and working as a nurse at a hospital in town. She had me when she was only sixteen and had to flee from her abusive boyfriend. She started a new life for herself and her son while my dad went to prison for a gas station robbery and assault. She would go to get her GED and then to nursing school. She graduated in 1980 and was now able to support us.
I remember mom dating several guys, but none ever stuck around very long. Jerry, a truck driver, taught me a lot about cars. He died in a bad accident in 1992. After that, mom just went out with girlfriends or stayed home. I knew that she knew what I was doing in my room, but to her credit, she never asked. She did give hints like asking me if there was anything I wanted to know about girls and shit like that, but that was it.
She was mixed about Elizabeth but happy to see I had a girlfriend. She had to know that I was not a virgin anymore by the night of my eighteenth birthday. Anyway, after my break up with Liz, my mom had become increasingly worried about me, but there was little she could do for me. At least that's what I thought.
Mom was working a double shift, so I was alone the whole day. I did a lot of revenge jerking off to Liz, imagining her all tied up and at my mercy. That felt good for a while, but I got bored and went out to get something to eat. I was broke, so I went to my mom's room to look for her stash of cash. I searched in the dresser and found her weed. It was no secret that mom was a toker; she did grow up in California in the seventies. I put it back, looked in another drawer and came across her panties and bras. Let me tell you all right now, my mom is only five foot one and weighs about 110 soaking wet. She is a Latina with long ebony hair and skin the color of mocha. She is a 34DD with a waist size of about 25 inches, according to her bras and panties.
I played with her underwear all night long and forgot to eat, and about the time. Before I could react, my mom walked in and found me on her bed, surrounded by her underwear! She yelled, cried, cursed, and smacked me with her sneaker. She threw me out of her room and told me that in the morning, I had to start looking for a job so I could move out.
That night I had a thunderstorm of emotions exploding in my mind. I was embarrassed, but I couldn't get mom's panties out of my mind, and before long, I was jerking off again.
In the morning, I dressed and was about to go out to hunt for a job, but mom stopped me at the door and took me to the dining room to talk. She apologized for not being more supportive. She knew what I had gone through with Liz and for never talking to me about sex. I apologized too and promised to never do that again. She flashed a smile at me and reminded me that my eighteenth birthday was only a day away. She asked if I had any plans, but I didn't.
She frowned.
The next day, my birthday, I came in from the car wash and found all the lights turned down. When I went into the living room there was my mom in her underwear. I was rooted to the floor as mom made her way toward me, draped her arms around me, and whispered sexily into my ear, happy birthday, baby boy. She kissed my lips and said, "I can do anything I wanted, so long as I did not cum inside her."
We made out, and she helped me jerk off several times. I fingered her and felt all that warm, sticky, good stuff.
We lay in bed together and kissed. She asked me if I was happy, and I yelled out YES! Anything else she to do for me, she asked as this would be the first and last time she would ever do this kind of thing.
There was one thing I told her. I asked if she would let me take photos of her, in bondage. She reluctantly agreed. I had watched many hours of bondage porn and learned the skill. I tied my mom up well and took several pictures of her.
My mom has never spoken again about that time, but whenever we have moments of silence, I see in her eyes that she is remembering it. Until this day I cherish my mom's bondage pics and still use them... a lot.

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