Unspoken Pleasure (erotica)
Mom's Touch But Don't Look Policy:>Ep1

Everyone in this story is over the age of 18. Enjoy!

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All in succession, my perfectly crafted life collapsed.

First, the coronavirus hit and closed my college. Then they instituted shelter-at-home. I found myself trapped in the house, with no one else around except my mom.

The last straw came a few days after that. I was finally getting settled back into my boyhood bedroom when I got a call from Cassie, my college girlfriend. She wanted to FaceTime, and I assumed it was time for our inaugural session of hot and heavy virtual sex. I took off my pants, then turned on the screen.

Cassie was there, but she was fully dressed and looking glum.

"I just can't do it," she said, "If we're apart like this, I don't know how we can stay together." The pretty brunette did look upset, at least. Even if her logic made little sense. Everyone was stuck inside. It's not like we were in a long-distance relationship where I could be out dating, and she would never know. I was home with my mom, for fuck's sake.

"I can't," Cassie repeated, "I'm sorry. When it's over, when we're back in school, we can try again."

She clicked off the screen. I pulled my jeans back on, sheepish and sad. Cassie and I had been dating for nearly six months. I didn't think I was going to marry the girl, but I didn't see us breaking up anytime soon, either. Having her dump me out of nowhere like that left me feeling low.

That night at dinner, I barely had any appetite. I pushed my food around my plate like a lazy cat chasing after a mouse. Never quite getting to the kill. "What's wrong?" Mom asked. I turned her way, and, for a moment, I got caught in her huge, blue eyes.

I could admit my mom was very pretty. She had honey blonde hair and a warm, sunny face. Her tomboy-esque outfits -- she always wore flannel shirts with white, ribbed tank tops and high-waisted Mom jeans -- only made her look cuter. My high school friends had all foundered after her. I knew that at least two of the guys in our group had only hung out with me because it meant they got glances of my mom. Even some of the dates I'd brought home had faltered when they saw my mother.

"I'm fine," I said, the standard evasive answer.

"Come on, talk to me," Mom said, "You used to confide in me all the time, you know."

That was true. Mom and I had been quite close when I was younger. We both loved reading books and seeing plays. She would take me to do errands and taught me to sew and cook. Mom had been my constant companion.

Everything changed when I turned 13. Mom became distant and removed. When I tried to hug her or show her affection, she would flinch like I was about to fight her. We stopped spending time together. Gave up going out as Mom and son. I ended up hanging out with my dad through most of high school, which came with its own unique set of issues.

Not that Mom was mean or cruel. Just detached. It's why I had wanted to leave for college so quickly after high school, and one of the reasons I had been dreading my corona-caused return home. "Seriously, Jay, what's wrong?" Mom asked me again.

Instinctively, I looked over to where Dad would usually be sitting with us at our small, round kitchen table. I was used to him interceding on my behalf. Unfortunately, Dad had been travelling overseas when the virus hit and wasn't coming home anytime soon. I was on my own.

Mom put her hand on mine, pulling me back to the moment. The truth was, I wanted to tell someone. Needed to. And, with no one else around, I guess it was easier for Mom to pry things out of me.

"Cassie and I broke up," I said, barely even a mumble.

"What happened?" Mom asked.

Again, the words caught in my throat before spilling over. "She said she didn't think we could be together through quarantine," I said. "Well, that's fucking stupid," Mom said.

I startled. I wasn't used to Mom taking my side, and I really wasn't used to hearing her curse.

Mom saw the look on my face, realized what she'd said, and blushed. "Sorry, your old mother still has a little fire left in her, I guess."

"You're not old, Mom," I said, reflexive. A smile snuck onto Mom's lips. She quickly turned away.

I wasn't just being polite. Mom was only 38 and she could have easily passed for late twenties. She and Dad had me when they were both twenty. I was a college mishap (during the final performance of the university's spring play, Mom would say wistfully, like that was a detail I needed to know). While I'm sure it was hard for them at the time to have a child, it seemed like there were also a lot of benefits to being a decade younger than anyone else with a kid my age. "Anyway," Mom continued, "I'm sorry about what happened with you and Kelly."

"Cassie," I said.

"Right," Mom said, "But if she's that superficial, she's doing you a favor. You deserve someone way better."

Now it was my turn to blush. Like I said, I wasn't used to getting compliments from Mom.

After dinner, I helped Mom clear the table and do the dishes. We stood in front of the sink, her arms elbow-deep in soapy water, while I held the tiny dish towel to dry. At one point, our hips bumped, and I glanced over at Mom's body. Like I said, I was her son. I didn't have a 'thing' for my mom. But that didn't mean I couldn't see her for what she was: a thoroughly gorgeous woman with a sweet face and a hot, tight body. I guess, in that way, it's like appreciating a painting at the MFA. I can admit that something is beautiful without needing to break in and take it home with me.

Mom saw me looking and, pointedly, stepped away. She gave my shoulder a playful shove.

"Eyes on your own paper, mister," Mom said with a grin.

"Moooom," I said, the stereotypical small boy whine, "I wasn't."

"I'm just teasing," Mom said, "Besides, I know you're a single man now, but that's no reason to start lowering your standards."

"Mom, I would be lucky to be with you. I mean, a woman who looked like you. I mean..."

Mom put her hand on my shoulder to stop me. She was smiling so wide, it looked like the corners of her mouth could reach her earlobes. Her white, straight teeth were practically shining in the thin light of the kitchen.

"It's OK," she said, "I understand and appreciate the compliment. It's sweet. Especially coming from such a ladykiller like yourself."

For a moment, I thought Mom was saying something about how I treated women and I got defensive. "I'm not like that," I snapped.

"No, no," Mom said, "I'm sorry. That wasn't what I meant at all. Girls like you. I see them checking you out. The way your high school girlfriends would fall all over you." "Oh," I said.

I tried to picture what Mom meant but I couldn't see it. I'd had a few girlfriends in high school, nothing serious. Had they been swooning? I didn't think so. And Cassie? Suddenly it all came crashing back to me and this stopped being fun. I finished putting away the dishes and turned away from the sink.

"I know you're down, Jay," Mom said, "But, trust me, you'll replace someone who's worth your time."

"Thanks," I said, still feeling dejected.

"How about we watch a movie tonight to cheer you up," she said, "Something silly."

Given the choice between watching something dumb on TV with Mom or sitting in my room by myself and moping, it was an easy decision.