Coffee & Mamosas With Mom

(Part 1 from 2)

Important: This is a work of pure fiction. It NEVER happened. Do not try to duplicate in real life. It’s meant only to titillate and not as a blueprint for real living.

Hunting season rolled around again. My husband Tom & my Dad got up well before dawn, put on their camouflage, panted their faces green & brown then did whatever it is men do w/ their guns in anticipation of a successful hunt. They ate a hearty breakfast & climbed in Dad’s truck to venture into the woods to slay a deer or two. They would be gone all weekend. My Mom Erin & I would gab, eat too much chocolate, drink, laugh & stay in our bathrobes all weekend. Tom & I & Mom & Dad made quite a foursome. Yes, they were my parents but ever since Tom & I married three years ago when I was 21 & he was 24 we’ve also been best friends. Dad & Tom got along from the beginning & Mom & I have always been very close, more like sisters. My mother Erin is still a beautiful woman. At 45 she draws as many appreciative glances as I do. Her long curly hair is black, w/big brown eyes & at 5ft 7inches she has a body to die for, flat stomach, 36 C breasts that ride high & seem to defy time & gravity. I’m shorter, 5ft 4inches & my hair is dark blond & I have B-cups. Mom said her breasts looked like mine when she was my age & before I came along. She assures me that mine will fill out like hers after I have children of my own.

I woke up late, put on my robe & padded down stairs. I expected to find a kitchen full of dirty dishes & a note from Tom & Dad expressing a desire that Mom & I enjoy our weekend & that they’ll miss us while they’re away.

But at the bottom of the stairs I heard Mom humming along w/ the radio in the kitchen. I walked into the dinning room. Instead of a messy table I found two Champaign glasses. Mom had made Mimosas for us. I entered the kitchen as Mom was bending over to load the last of the dishes into the dishwasher. Mom wore a black thong underneath one of Dad’s tee shirts & I saw the tiny strip of material run the length of her shaved pussy & the well-rounded globes of her ass.

“ I feel sorry for our men. They’d certainly enjoy the view.” I said.

Mom popped up & smiled.” Good morning sleepy head. Your father’s used to the view, dear. I’m not sure Tom could handle it” She responded. Mom & Tom were always flirting. Dad & I would roll our eyes & laughingly grant them permission to take the measure of each other’s passion & they’d laugh back & say that one day they’d do it. “ I’m just about through w/ the dishes. Want to start coffee?” I walked by her to start coffee & she gave my ass a good swat.

After breakfast we took our glasses & settled in the living room. We took turns going back into the kitchen for more Mimosas until we were both crocked. We talked about everything, Grandpa Joe’s up coming prostate surgery, Tom’s silly laugh- when he laughs he brays in a kind of high pitched wheeze that sounds like he’s in respiratory failure & Mom’s job at the library downtown. & Of course, sex, sex & more sex! Even though we’re mother & daughter there’s nothing we don’t talk about, especially after a few drinks. When I lost my virginity my freshman year of college to a jerk that came in nanoseconds then never called it was Mom I spent hours on the phone w/ crying. Later that week a box arrived & in it was my first vibrator & a note from Mom telling me it would always stay hard, never finish before I did & would always be there when I wanted it. Later, when I met Tom, Mom grilled me exhaustively on his love making technique. She told me about her & Dad, how she loves to take his hard, velvety shaft in her mouth. How he loves to have her suck his nipples while she strokes his massive cock. Most girls would blush hearing blatant details of their parents’ sex lives but it never felt weird listening to Mom. But I have to confess that sometimes it turned me on when Mom would tell me about their escapades. Later, when Tom & I would have sex he’d slipped his cock into me I’d sometimes fantasize that it was Dad’s.

That morning we were on the couch. Mom had her head on my lap & I ran my hand through her thick mane of black hair. We were still in our night -clothes & Mom’s shirt scrunched under the mounds of her perfect 36 C breasts. Somewhere along the way I lost the robe & I sat there in my panties & t-shirt. There was a lull in the conversation. Mom looked troubled.

“ Mom, what’s wrong?” I asked. I put my hand on her flat smooth stomach & gently grazed the flesh. “ I can tell something’s bothering you.”

She looked up at me. I could tell she was debating w/ herself whether to tell me. “ Mom, whatever it is it’s okay. We don’t keep secrets, do we?”

She stroked my face. It always felt good when Mom touched me like that. “ No Dee, we don’t.” She paused.

“Then tell me.”


“Okay kiddo, you asked for it.” She paused. “ Remember last summer when your father went to Grandpa’s to help him re-shingle the roof?” Dad was a venerable Mr. Fix-It. He inherited the trait from Grandpa, who’d had a heart attack a few weeks before & was bound & determined to do the job himself in 90-degree heat. Dad spent a weekend on the roof taking good-natured orders from Grandpa. After the roof was finished Grandpa came up w/ a few more projects & the weekend turned into a week.

“ I remember.”

“ Well…you know I’ve never, ever once cheated on your father in 23 years of marriage.” She said it like it was a question and I’d never heard Mom use that tone of voice. She loved my father utterly & completely & as far as we both knew he was just as nuts about her. Mom & Dad were friends; they got along so well that I could count on one hand the number of times they raised their voices with each other and still have fingers left over.

“ Yes Mom, go on.” I said wearily.

“ Something happened while your father was away & I don’t know if I cheated on your father or not. I’ve been dying to talk to you about it but I wanted to work it out for myself first.”

I thought about whom my Mom could have fooled around w/. She was gorgeous & would have no trouble finding a man who’d want mess around. A list of candidates immediately came to mind, fellows I noticed flirting w/ Mom at barbeques, men who’d look to long & hard when she walked down an aisle at the grocery store; Mom had a body that inspired admiration wherever she happened to be.

But I wasn’t prepared for what she told me.

“ You know we lock up early on Mondays to catch up on paper work & to shelve books that come back from the weekend?”

Oh Lord. Some hot stud arrived late to return an over due book & Mom let him in & jumped his bones. I continued rubbing her stomach. It seemed to calm her & I wanted Mom to know whatever it was that was troubling her was okay w/ me. “That feels nice, baby.” She said.

She continued. “ Well, Wendy & I were stacking books.” Wendy was a girl I’d went to school w/ who picked up a few extra dollars helping Mom on Monday nights & as a fill in when ever Mom needed some time off.

“ Remember how hot it was that week?” I did. It was the hottest week of the summer. It was 80 degrees at night. Those without air-conditioning were lucky to get an hours’ worth of sleep. “ Well, that Monday Wendy wore a belly shirt & very short jean shorts. I wouldn’t have let her work like that but I’ve begged the town to put an air-conditioner in there for years beyond counting but they always say it’s too expensive. I locked the door like I always did at 6:00 & we began shelving books. We were both sweating even though we were moving like turtles. & Out of the blue she told me she was thinking about getting breast implants. You know how flat the poor girl is?” I smiled & shook my head. Poor Wendy; I remembered her from gym class & she had nothing but a pair of puffy nipples. Nothing in the intervening years had remedied her situation.

“ I asked her why & she laughed. ‘Isn’t it obvious?’ It was, poor thing. Then she said, ‘you don’t know what it’s like, guys making flat jokes & comparing my chest to wooden planks. Look at yours.’ She pointed at my tits. ‘ They’re beautiful.’ I guess I blushed. ‘ Thanks.’ I said. She walked up to me.’ Well, tell me what you think?’ She lifted her shirt. ‘ See, next to nothing.’ Her nipples were hard. ‘ Wendy what are you doing?’ I said. ‘It’s okay Erin; we’re alone. Tell me what you think. Pretty bad, huh?’ I looked at her tits. ‘ Okay Wendy, they’re small but kind of cute you know?’ ‘Yeah but they’re not like yours’ she looked at my chest. ‘ Can I see them? Please, you have great tits. I have to see them.’

I didn’t know what to say. Wendy had tapped into something I’d felt for years. Ever since I can remember I’ve always admired my Mom’s tits. When I saw her tits, whether we were lolling around in bikinis or changing in front of each other I couldn’t take my eyes off them. Then later at night I’d think about touching them, kissing them & I’d rub my clit until I got off. I knew it was wrong to think about my Mom’s tits like that but they were so beautiful I couldn’t help myself.

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