Fucking Back to Happiness

Just a warm story of how I came to love my mother more than any son should.

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My Mum had always been the rock for me when I needed strength; the soft pillow to bury my weeping head in; the wisely spoken adult who could explain things to growing me; the storyteller and above all, the mother to look up to. As I grew up she was my everything and while I could hardly ever have been called a 'mummy's boy' I'd always have done anything for her. I always loved her dearly, as any son should and my admiration for her never ceased.

Of course my Dad had done his bit too -- he'd always remembered to praise my successes and taught me the manly things of life but he'd also chastise me firmly and suitably when necessary. Of course he also had to spent too much time working and therefore came second to my mother.

I grew upwards quickly, or so my parents kept repeating and by the time I'd secured myself a place in the business world and left home at the age of 21 I was taller than either of them and had a far better physique than my father ever had apparently. In later years all the time he spent behind a desk did nothing for his shape -- whereas I did my best to avoid that fate and exercised rigorously and often.

My wonderful Mum managed to retain her naturally good shape by exercise, regular visits to the gym, a healthy lifestyle and a good diet and of course she also instilled those guidelines in me so I'd join her in her exercises whenever possible -- which is why I was always proud to be able to display my well-formed body. It was definitely her guidance that had done so much to make me what I was and I was always pleased to remind her what I'd achieved and it often seemed that I'd made good use of some genes from her family side.

"You remind me so much of my brother," Mum would murmur, usually gently stroking my cheek or chest in passing, "You're so much like him -- you know, tall and strong and good-looking and successful. He was wonderful."

Her brother had unfortunately lost his life to some drunken motorist but the memory lived on and on...

Her words would always make me smile inside as well as outside -- because they were always spoken with such warmth and they made me all the more determined to live up to her expectations -- and to the best of my knowledge I succeeded.

But the one way I failed my mother was that I hadn't any interest in getting married. Oh, I always guessed that would come later in my life, but nothing was further from my mind. Naturally I kept finding girlfriends who insisted that they'd be perfect for me to marry but somehow I managed to enjoy their delights while avoiding their clutches and their wiles and although I'd occasionally party the weekends away I actually preferred to head back across town to spend time with my parents, settling down for all the world as if I'd never left home. It was so relaxing and comforting to be with them, idly chattering about all and everything, discussing sport or the business world with Dad and kneeling or standing alongside Mum as she gardened or cooked -- or perhaps joining in as she went about her daily exercise routine.

And it was that routine that always caused my mind to twist -- from being that of a dutiful and devoted son to the warped mind of a lusty beast, because watching her working out was more than enough to make juices rise in every part of me.

The way her back would bend and cause her ass to strain tightly; the way her generous breasts would stretch her leotard as she turned and twisted around. The smooth tightness of her midriff and belly along with the sleek lines of her lovely legs. The way she could stretch her legs so wide apart and bend her body in all directions. Even the occasional grunt of exertion was completely erotic to me and I'd find myself captivated and unable to move away and yet full of lust for her body at the same time. Much as I should have curbed my thoughts I just wanted to tear her skimpy clothes off and ravage her amazing body with my throbbing straining cock. Of course I was also captivated because she was my Mum and I was proud of her, but equally so she was a woman of exceptional physique and beauty whose body would have been very welcome in my bed had she not been my mother. It was well worthwhile watching her, not least to provide me with some very erotic memories for later in bed.

For a good number of years that was our routine -- Dad and I would work or chew the fat, Mum would keep fit and provide a lovely home for us; I'd exercise my sexual needs with the local girls and everything was calm and lovely. That was until I arrived back at home one day to face tears and sadness and as I held my weeping mother she managed to explain that Dad hadn't been feeling too well in recent weeks and after visits to the doctor and the hospital they'd been told that he had an inoperable tumour that seemed to be growing quickly and aggressively.

Suddenly things turned around and it was now my turn to be the rock; the calming voice; the helpful son and the man Mum looked up to as Dad quickly sank into a mere shell of his old self and I now spent more and more time helping Mum to care for him, then being the one for her to unburden her heart to. It was a very sad time, the only vague consolation being that Dad didn't linger for long. Inside four months he was gone, leaving Mum and me with a big hole in our lives.

But not that long after the funeral it was once again Mum who became the strong one and one day, after I came back from work I found that Mum had seemed to have lifted herself and for once she smiled at me again.

"Come on darling, this won't do, will it?" she rhetorically asked as she let a wry smile form, "We can't go on moping, can we?"

I shook my head, then encompassed her in my arms, holding her tightly as she mourned briefly, then she stiffened and straightened up.

"Thank you darling, I needed that," she said, then reached up and kissed me.

"You're so wonderful Chris, how on earth would I have managed without you?" she said, her eyes boring into mine.

"No, I'm just being me, it's you who've been so strong," I said, "You'd have got through if I hadn't been there -- you'd have managed."

She sighed heavily then took my hand and held it tightly.

"Yes, but without you I might have cracked up -- it was you who pushed me through I think," she added, "Come here, let me hug you again."

A moment later we were cuddling tightly once more as Mum tried to rebuild her renewed brightness.

It took a while for us working together to remove all unnecessary traces of Dad. Of course, Mum retained loads of mementos and personal things but they remained inside a cupboard, away from her daily gaze.

"It's nice to know he's still there but his body's gone now so I don't want to be reminded all the time," she said wisely, "But I can always take a quick look when I need him, can't I?"

It was in those times when she dwelt on her memories that I'd admire her for what she was. A fairly tall well-formed woman with amazing locks of wavy mid-brown hair and a pleasingly rounded face. She was my ideal woman on whom I based many of my desires, a woman with a ready smile, warm soft lips and bright happy eyes that were often full of expression.

And then, soon after we'd set everything in it's proper place we came another watershed moment when, as we relaxed after dinner one day, Mum reached across and put her hand on my arm.

"Darling..." she began, "Oh dear, I don't know how to say this, but why don't you come and live with me?"

I think that my eyebrows spoke for me and Mum laughed, shattering the seriousness.

"No, silly, not like that!" she said with a wicked stage wink, "I think I'm scared that if I stay here alone I'll get old and boring and lose interest in life -- whereas if you're here, I'll never get bored and perhaps you'll be able to help, you know, put a spring back in me."

"I can try to do that anyway," I argued back, "I'm not far away and you can see me any time and have your peace when you need it."

"No, I mean, here we are -- you have to pay rent on your place and all of this house is just for me," she added impatiently, "I'd much prefer it if you lived here; this place needs a man to help fill it out -- so how about it?"

It certainly made sense in many ways and Mum pushed on quickly.

"You come back here to live," she persisted, "You'll save on rent and I'd be able to see you every day, wouldn't I? You can have your choice of bedroom -- there are three that aren't being used, aren't there."

"You already see me pretty well every day," I answered but Mum's hand tightened and then she slapped my arm by way of retort.

"Chris, I'm being serious and it makes so much sense," she continued as she rubbed my arm better, "And that way we'd be able to help each other, wouldn't we?"

My eyebrows lifted again in amusement but this time Mum merely giggled at me.

"You're terrible!" she laughed as she stood up, "Anyway, think it over while I go and get us a drink."

My mind swirled as the small exchange of vaguely sexual innuendoes stirred my natural needs but I now realised that the availability of sex with my mother close by was going to be a problem. I lifted my eyes to ruminate and as I did so they locked onto the sight of Mum's retreating body as she headed across the room to the kitchen and I was captivated.

Her body looked deliciously sexy as I watched her move; her tight curvy ass, her swaying hips, her slender legs and her trim waist all spoke loudly of sex and suddenly my arousal was complete.

The sight was powerful magic and I was as stiff as a poker in an instant, turned on by a lack of sexual release of late, by the innuendoes and by my mood. Quickly I adjusted my erection inside my jeans and shook my head.

Sure, Mum was always sexy and desirable but why right now? What was happening?

It was a moment later that I realised the answer.

Since Dad's illness and death Mum's posture must have become slumped, lethargic and droopy but this time as she walked away, with her mind now concentrating on us, her natural sexiness seemed to have returned in a big way. At least for now she appeared to have cast off her cares and years and grown youthful again.

A couple more moments passed and then Mum was returning with two big glasses of what proved to be sherry, one of which she handed to me, giving me further food for thought as her breasts swayed before me. She wasn't revealing much but as she leaned down so the tops of her breasts filled my eyes as the neck of her loose top fell forwards.

"Cheers darling," she said as she sat down again then she lifted her hand and we clinked our glasses together before drinking.

Silence reigned for a little while as the warmth of the sherry glowed inside me, before I felt that I had to speak.

"I think you feel a bit better now, don't you Mum?" I asked and it was her turn to raise her eyebrows.

"Pardon?" she said, fortunately still smiling, "In what way?"

"Well, you seemed, ummm, bouncier if you know what I mean," I spluttered, digging myself into a big hole, "You know, perkier -- more bubbly, springy or something."

Instantly I saw Mum's eyes drop towards her jutting breasts and as she did so she must have pulled her shoulders back because her breasts seemed to lift and swell, the change matching the sudden smile on her face.

"Well, I suppose I am," she said as she wriggled her shoulders causing her breasts to sway deliciously, "I've realised that I've got to put the past behind me and look ahead, haven't I?"

I nodded and smiled at her, then blew her a kiss to tell her that I loved her.

"I think I'm also assuming that you'll say yes," she said after she'd blown one back, "I mean, you almost live here now as it is. You spend so much time here you might just as well move back in -- and you know there's loads of room."

Now you may think me stupid but at that moment, when my mind agreed to move back, I'd just forgotten the sexual aspect -- that I'd be embarrassed to bring any girls home. All I could see were the comforts of home, the closeness of my mother and her cooking (to mention but two benefits that were always important to me) and how sensible it would be.

"Go on then, I'll do it!" I suddenly exclaimed, then felt all hot as Mum's face lit up happily.

"Oh darling, that's wonderful!" cried Mum, "That'll be perfect!"

A moment or two later she almost leapt on top of me, pressing herself warmly and tightly against me, kissing me profusely and making me feel even hotter and hornier! It was lovely to have some of her old self back but not a little embarrassing right now because my cock, which was still aroused from the earlier sightings, perked up once more and quickly grew in size and stiffness. As I held Mum on my lap, there wasn't much I could do to prevent her from feeling my sudden erection pressing into her ass, even though she didn't move away or comment.

"Oh you're such a darling!" she enthused, as she eventually levered herself up off me, "It'll be so lovely to have you back!"

From all that exchange there was one especially powerful moment though -- the sight of Mum glancing down at the ridge of my erection, then smiling as she moved away. Her enigmatic look alone certainly served me as ammunition for a strong climax soon afterwards when I was alone in my bedroom.

It didn't take all that long for me to return; I gave my landlord a months' notice; moved all my possessions back inside one Saturday afternoon and had arranged my old bedroom to my liking that same day. There were still some small alterations that I wanted to make but I was happy now and already felt very much 'at home' again.

Sitting down to eat that evening felt so normal that when she reached across the table and took hold of my hand I wasn't in the least bit surprised.

"I love you Chris," said Mum happily as she squeezed my fingers, "And do you know what?"

I shook my head as I awaited her explanation...

"I feel so much better that I think I'm going to start doing my exercises again," she said and at that I suddenly felt the pressure in my jeans as my cock responded once again.

"Hope my leotard still fits," added Mum, then she pulled her hand from mine and cupped both hands under her breasts, lifting them up before looking up at me.

"I think I've put on a bit of weight recently," she said and she jiggled them, "Don't you think so?"

I felt myself go all hot and felt the pressure increasing again but I nodded gently.

"Possibly a bit," I offered, "The exercise will help and it'll keep you feeling better too."

"It'll probably help my bum as well!" laughed Mum as she stood up and turned around, "Look, it's gone all wobbly too!"

Her ass was far from wobbly to be honest and was still just as peachy and firm as before -- I know because I'd admired it (and her boobs) not that many minutes ago.

"No it's not wobbly -- but yes, exercises, great stuff," I said honestly.

"You make sure you join me, won't you?" she asked, "It would be so nice to do it together again if you don't mind."

"MMuuuuMM!" I laughed, "Do it together indeed!"

"I didn't mean like that!" she laughed back at me, "Stop being so crude!"

She stood up and took the empty glasses back to refill them but I wasn't concentrating on her this time. Instead I was just feeling so happy that Mum seemed to have found some of her old vitality again.

That evening, having kissed Mum goodnight I retired to my room to browse the internet, moving quickly to my favourite porn site. There the bouncing breasts, naked pussies and delicious asses suddenly set my mind thinking of the problem I'd overlooked.

How was I to get my share of pussy if Mum was in the next bedroom? I'd have to rely on the girls letting me go back to their homes -- always risky business in the event of any irate parent interrupting us. Or could I really bring a girl back and into Mum's house?

"Excuse me Mum, so-and-so and I are just going upstairs for a fuck!"

No way could I do that...and my erection, stirred by porn (and memories of Mum's boobs and bum) sank back suddenly. I'd lined myself up for a life of chastity it seemed...

Despite that gloomy outlook but with some stirring memories I eventually managed to rub one out, then sank into a deep and needed sleep, worn down by the momentous events of the day, eventually waking feeling somewhat refreshed and relaxed.

I rolled over and sat up, then lifted myself from the bed and stretched. I'd slept naked as was my habit and now, as I let the kinks of sleep drift away, my cock stood there in its erect mode, pressed by the need to urinate and the power of the usual 'morning wood.' Already my foreskin had peeled back and my knob gleamed with smears of precum that must have oozed out during the night.

"Shower," I muttered, accustomed to relieving the pressure during my morning shower and still naked, hard and half awake, I opened the door and stepped into the hallway to head to the bathroom.

As I pushed the bathroom door open it suddenly came to my sleepy mind that there was some noise in the bathroom already but the connection didn't reach my brain until I'd stepped into the room and shut the door. There before me, hidden by the shower curtain was Mum, singing quietly as she showered, her voice stopping suddenly as I entered the room.

"Oh -- is that you Chris?" she called out and a second later her head popped out from behind the curtain.

"Oh my!" she exclaimed as she saw me standing there naked and erect, "Oh Chris, I'm sorry -- I didn't mean to..."

Her head disappeared again, leaving me mentally confused and fragmented.

"Oh fuck," I muttered, then managed to control my voice.

"Mum, I'm so sorry, I wasn't awake, I should have thought that you might be here," I said, words tumbling from me, "I'm sorry, I'll...errr...catch you later."

"It's alright Chris," came Mum's voice as I slid away and closed the door, "Don't let it worry you..."

I didn't wait to hear any more but headed quickly back to my room before almost crashing back to sit on my bed as I let my brain gather itself together. Mum had just seen me bare and erect and I really didn't know how to react. On one hand I was shocked and sure that Mum would now kick me out but on the other hand I was very excited, suddenly imagining Mum naked in the shower, then her inviting me to join her and having sex together. So aroused was I by the latter thought that I grabbed my stirred up cock, threw myself back on the bed and after a brief spell of jerking I pumped huge spurts of cum up over my chest and abdomen. My climax was powerful and sudden and yet, with the sexy idea still in my mind, I knew I still needed to do it all over again.

Once more I gripped my cock with renewed energy, stropping one hand urgently up and down my hot shaft while rubbing my cum-splattered nipple with the other hand and it was then that matters twisted around once again.

Suddenly my door flew open and Mum stood there, clad in a huge pink towel, her hair wrapped in another towel.

"I've finished -- you can use the bathroooooo... Ooooo!" she gasped.

I froze, my hand still wrapped around my erection, my body still besplattered, my mind in pieces.

"Oh Chris, oh, not again! I'm sorry!" Mum gasped but as she spoke she too must have been shocked and lost her concentration because suddenly the towel around her head began to unravel.

Quickly her hands rose to catch the loosening towel but as they did so the towel that enclosed her body came undone too, slipping suddenly to the floor.

"Ahhh -- oh what!" she cried as she made valiant but useless moves to grab the towels.

In an instant Mum was standing there naked, revealing her amazing body to me in all her glistening glory.