Incest/TabooGoing to Prom with Mom
"Art is all about doing what you shouldn't."
"What do you mean you're not going to the senior prom?"
I stared at her, she stood there with one hand on her hip. In her other hand, she brandished a wooden spoon. Mom was making basil pesto pasta, which is one of my favorites.
"I dunno Mom, 'cause I don't want to go. That's why." I tried looking behind her, to see if she had grated parmesan cheese yet. She must have anticipated my interest in the food because she moved to block me.
"Ryan… that's a lie, I can see it on your face. What's wrong, honey?" her brow furrowed, and genuine concern played across her face.
She's shorter than I am, actually, she's tiny. I suppose she's about the size one would expect from a professional ballet dancer turned teacher.
"Fuck… I don't know…" she let the F word slide. Well, after waving her wooden spoon at me like a magic wand. I ducked beneath it, narrowly avoiding it's magical wave.
"I know you want to talk about it, I'm your mom, I know these things…"
I sighed, she was right, I really wanted to talk about it. "It's just that… nobody even asked me to go. I can't go by myself. Even my friends have dates."
"Why not ask some cute girl yourself? I'm sure they're just shy cause you're so cute…" she winked at me and turned to stir the food.
"Mom… of course you think I'm cute, you're my mom, you're supposed to." Truth was, since turning eighteen, I felt more gangly than cute.
I spotted the parmesan cheese and reached around her to grab a pinch. She must have thought I was coming in for a hug because she hooked her arms around me. She squeezed me tight, and I could feel her small tits pressing into me. Instantly, I began getting a boner.
Hurriedly, I hugged her and pulled away so I could turn and run to my room. She called after me, "hurry with your shower, and come set the table."
"Okay, Mom…" I darted into my room, by that time I was hard as steel.
That's the problem with being a hormonal teenager. Anything at all can run a flag up your flagpole. I always showered when I got home from school. Before and after, Mom thought I had a thing for being clean. In reality, the afternoon shower afforded me my only opportunity to rub one out.
Grabbing some basketball shorts and a hoodie, I ran across the hallway and jumped into the shower. I may have a little thing for my mom, but in my defense, you can't grow up like I did and not notice her.
Mom's a beautiful woman, petite and small. She's delicate, but not even close to frail. Having spent her entire life in ballet, she's in amazing shape. I've seen my mom in every sort of dancing outfit. From leotards to jumpsuits, skimpy dresses, and tutus, she's worn them all. Most leave very little to the imagination.
It's hard being a teenage boy and seeing your mother dressed in bodysuits and tights. It's become almost an obsession for me. So every afternoon, I take a hot shower and fantasize about her. It's not weird, she's fucking hot.
I was thinking about this now as the water cascaded down over me. Steam billowed up from my feet, and I wrapped my hand around myself. I had never quite got over my erection from earlier, and I wanted a release more than ever.
Closing my eyes, I imagined she was dancing. Like so many times before, her lithe and athletic body swept across a stage. Feeling myself become slick with precum, I massaged the head of my cock.
My imagination grew bold, and I imagined her naked in front of me. Her tiny breasts, almost flat as she lay on her back. The delicate arch of her shoulders and neck. Her blonde hair, as always pulled into a bun.
My administrations became almost desperate as I imagined Mom on her knees in front of me. When I watched her lips part and my dick sink between them like a sword in its sheath. I came and slipped in the tub.
It made a terrible noise. I grabbed the shower curtain by accident and took it with me. I ended up sliding down the wall and landing on my ass. The shower curtain landed in my lap, which I soon became grateful for. The face from my fantasies poked her head through the door.
She looked at me wide eyed, but I could see the mirth on her face. "Ryan! Are you alright, honey?"
"I'm fine Mom! I just slipped, will you get out?!" I was acutely aware that the shower curtain was somewhat see-through and I was still throbbing post-orgasm.
"Alright, be careful honey, hurry up for dinner." She smiled at my predicament and then left.
I hurriedly hung the shower curtain back up and rinsed it off. I didn't make it down in time to set the table, Mom had beaten me to it. So, instead, I sat down and she put a plate of food in front of me.
"Isn't there a theme for your prom?" Mom asked me as she sat down with her own food.
"Ugh… Mom again with the prom?" She wasn't going to let this one go, was she? I took a deep breath and gave in, I knew she wouldn't give it up. "Masquerade, a fancy one… and I already told you, everyone's already got a date…"
"That's not what you said before, you said that nobody had asked you."
"Well, it's true." I shoveled food into my mouth, it was hot but so fucking good.
"I could go with you… I never got to go to my prom." she had a wistful look on her face.
I stopped with my fork halfway to my mouth. My beautiful mother was gazing at me. I almost got lost in her large deep blue eyes and looked away. She hadn't even touched her food yet.
"I would be the laughingstock of the school."
She sighed, "It's a masquerade, Ryan… I would be wearing a mask; nobody would recognize me."
It was true, she wasn't exactly a socialite, and I never had company over. Ever since Dad had left us for some guy, our circle included only us. Looking at Mom, I imagined her in a mask. She had the body of a dancer, one that was forever stuck in its teenage years of growth. It could work.
"You want to go to prom with me?" I blushed as my voice cracked a little. Images of my Mom pressed up against me as we danced flipped about in my head. I felt myself getting a boner again. Quickly, I shoved more food into my mouth.
She grinned, "it would be fun! You're my best friend, we could dance, and go to dinner afterward."
I saw my mom on my arm, in one of her elegant costumes. Form-fitting, and sensual, she would make every girl there jealous. It would make me a fucking hero; nobody would know it was my mom. Would they?
"You wouldn't tell anyone Mom? What if people talked to us? To you?"
She looked hurt, "I've been dancing and acting my entire life, you think I'm not capable of acting like your date for the prom?"
Swallowing my food, I reached for my water. She was right. In fact, she was a bit overqualified for the job.
"I'm sorry Mom… yes… I would like it if you'd be my date for the prom…"
She jumped out of her chair, knocking it over, and stood there clapping. It surprised me when she threw herself at me. I wrapped my arms around her and hugged her awkwardly while staying seated. My cock was at full attention, it never did what I wanted it to do.
The rest of dinner went well, and I didn't find myself in any more awkward conversations with my mom. In fact, we didn't even talk about it again, for days.
Two days before prom, on Thursday, I came home to find mom standing in the middle of the foyer with a brilliant white and sapphire blue dress. My jaw dropped, and it would have dropped further if it could when she stood on pointe.
The curve of my mother's back was laid bare, the arch of her shoulders was nude in the backless contoured evening gown. I wanted to whip my dick out and rub one out right there. The dress hung to the floor but parted all the way up to the hip, and she stuck her bare leg out to show me. I could see her bare hip, and it lit a fire in my soul.
"That's beautiful Mom… You're beautiful." I managed to speak even though my tongue felt thick in my mouth.
She grinned. The smile split her face, and she laughed with what seemed to be pure joy. "I have flats that match, oh! And our masks!"
I stood in shock as my mother hiked up the hem of her flowing dress and ran down the hallway. She was stunning and even barefooted, she was the most graceful human being to have ever walked the earth.
When she returned, masks in hand, I realized what a fool I must look. I had stood there still as a statue, for quite a while. Not sure what to do with my hands or feet for that matter, I found myself shifting from foot to foot and wringing my hands.
"Look," she said, putting on her mask. It was white and sapphire blue to match her dress. The mask covered her mid-cheek and up. Only the tip of her pixie nose stuck out from beneath the mask. For the first time, I noticed that she had glittery lip gloss on to match the glitter on her mask.
I applauded, not knowing what else to do, and she made a mock bow.
"I paid for you to get a tux, I'll give you the number." With that said, she turned and swept from the room like an unstoppable force of nature.
My dreams that night were haunted with slivers of possibilities. What ifs and ghostly visions of the impossible made me restless. I masturbated as much as I could and avoided my lustful thoughts for my mother, but my mind always drifted back to her.
The next day went fast, I picked up my tux, and a bouquet of flowers. Then I went home only to find a note on the fridge and a cold dinner to warm up. I didn't see my mother at all the next day. When it was getting close to the time to leave, I found myself peeking out the windows, looking for her. I still had not heard from her, and I felt quite the fool in my rented tux. I paced around the house, nervous like only a teenage boy can be until my phone rang.
It was Mom, "where are you?" I practically yelled into the phone, my anxiety had really hit new peaks.
"I'm out front honey, come out front!" There was something about the tone of her voice that made me groan. Mom had always been a bit of a free spirit. I swung the door open, and for the second time that week, found my mouth hanging open in surprise.
A white stretch limo was parked in front of the house, and there was my mother, in her dress and mask, hanging out of the sunroof. She was beautiful as always, and I felt my anxiety beginning to come back. What if someone realized she wasn't a real date? What if someone realized she was like twice my age? I told myself not to be silly. I told myself that this would make me a legend at school, and to quit worrying. Nothing I told myself helped, but it all sounded good.
I climbed into the limo and sat down, it was luxurious. "Mom… this might be going a little overboard." I meant my words to be words of caution but instead, she took them as complaining.
"Look…" she began with her imperious tone that always irritated me. "I didn't get to have a prom, I was too busy with dancing. And not because I didn't want to either, I wasn't given a choice. This is my last opportunity, and I want to do it right!" She leaned her head forward and gave me the look that always made me cringe. But then her face softened and she batted her eyelashes while giving me a coquettish grin.
I sighed, and smiled at her, she could be so damn cute.
She turned and leaned toward a cabinet, "besides, there's alcohol in here-"
"Mom!" I scolded her, but I didn't stop her as she opened it, and handed me a miniature airplane bottle of booze.
"Bottoms up honey, you only live once!" Her eyes sparkled, and she grinned wolfishly.
I rolled my eyes at her but joined her in downing the shot. I choked it down, even as my eyes burned and watered. Managing a weak smile, I looked at her through blurry eyes. She was bright red herself and trying not to cough.
"Whoa… that'll put hair on your chest!" She wheezed.
That was one thing about having a parent who was pretty much an athlete. She treated her body like a temple and rarely drank anything. There was never any alcohol in the house.
My ears were warm, and the chilly March air that drifted in through the sunroof felt good. My mother sat up against me and laid her head on my shoulder.
"Thank you for taking me, I promise to not give myself away…" she nuzzled in hugging me, and the familiar smell of her hair was comforting.
The words were reassuring, or the alcohol took the edge off my anxiety, I wasn't sure which.
"Thanks, Mom… I'm kinda glad we're going together now."
"Why's that, honey?" She hiccupped and giggled.
"Cause at least I know my date is not going to run off with some other guy."
She smacked me on the leg and giggled again. "Not because you're helping me finally have my prom night?"
"Maybe that too…" I teased and leaned into her.
We arrived at school, and the parking lot was full of cars and young adults in fancy dresses and suits, all masked of course. My heart was trying to escape from my chest, and my hands were damp and clammy.
"My name's Sophia tonight, okay?" she said it with a smile in her voice.
"Ha… okay Sophia, allow me!" I opened the door and stepped out onto the pavement and offered her my hand. She took it and gracefully got out of the limo. Only my mother could make getting out of the lowered town car look casual and sexy.
She looped her arm through mine, and despite my nerves, I led her into the gymnasium. Nobody stared. Nobody noticed or asked questions, it appeared all my fears were pointless. Taking a deep breath, I let my mother glide next to me and we approached the snacks and punch bowl.
I was quite thirsty after the whisky, and she appeared so as well. We were on our second glass when my friend Peter approached us. I groaned, and my Mom squeezed my hand reassuringly.
"Ryan! I didn't know you were coming, you said you didn't have a date!" His words were almost mocking, everything was a competition with him. He was handsome and full of himself, I wasn't sure why I hung out with him. Well, that's not entirely true. I knew why, but I was loath to admit it.
"I uhhh… wasn't sure if she was going to be able… "
My mother stepped in next to me, and held out her hand. "Hi …?"
"Ryan… I mean Peter. My name's Peter." He stumbled over his words, eyes roaming up and down the length of her. He seemed rather intimidated by my mom.
"Peter, ah, yes I think Ryans mentioned you at least once, well I'm Sophia, hopefully, he's told you about me?" She placed her arm around my waist and leaned against me. "Tonight makes it official, boyfriend and girlfriend."
"Oh… Sophia, yes he's ah… he might have mentioned you, I can't remember…" he said while tearing his eyes away from her. "Did you talk your cousin into coming with you? No way she's dating you…"
I could see the frown on my Mom's face and felt the color in my cheeks. There was a reason I didn't bring my friends home. They weren't always that nice to me. What my mother did next was completely unexpected.
"Come now… Peter… would I do this if I was his cousin?"
As she spoke she looped an arm around my neck and turned to face me. Throwing the last couple of words over her shoulder dismissively, she kept her other arm around my waist. Tilting her head up to look at me, she pulled my face down to hers.
Shock at what was happening heightened every sense in my body. Lightning coursed through my veins and sparked at every nerve ending. My wildest dreams were coming true sending a chill up my spine. Her tongue darted between my lips and began exploring, tentatively I met her tongue with my own. Clinging to her as she pressed her body into mine, I realized this far surpassed any intimacy a mother and son should have. She began to grind into me and I knew she must be able to feel my growing arousal pressing into her. It was as if she were my girlfriend and her own arousal was paramount. I was past caring about propriety, and ground into her with reckless abandon.
Finally, she broke off the kiss and leaned her head back panting. She glanced over her shoulder, and when she saw Peter had left, she giggled. "Well that was fun, wasn't it? I told you I could act as your date!"
I was worried she would pull away. Exposing my manhood pressed between us. It was a tent in my drawers that would be more than obvious were she to pull away. But instead, she laid her head on my chest and sighed. Though, she did let some airflow between us. I was grateful for her discretion.
"Sorry, Mom…" I breathed in embarrassment.
"For what, honey?" she nearly whispered the question.
I stared into her eyes, did she know? She had to know, how could she not?
Finally, she laughed lightly, "don't be sorry, it's a perfectly natural response. I've known for some time now that you're no longer a little boy."
"Mom!" I hissed, trying to keep her quiet, and with her arm in mine, I led her away from other attendees.
"What?" she whispered. "You think I don't know why you take so many showers? Or what you do in there?"
Trying to change the subject, I pointed at the dance floor, "Let's get out there, it's not prom without dancing."
She grinned at me mischievously and followed. Now, I must admit, I may have gotten some of my mother's talent. I do love to dance. It's a totally different experience when both you and your partner actually can dance. We jumped around and danced to the music, and for the first time in quite a while, I felt free.
When a slow song finally came on, I went to lead her off the floor. She wasn't interested in leaving the floor. We stayed out there with the rest of the couples, slowly dancing. Her body was pressed into mine, and I knew she could feel my raging hard-on. The song came to an end, and after looking around and seeing other couples kissing, I got brave. I leaned down and planted my lips on hers. She didn't resist.
Sparks flew, and my heart barely knew how to continue beating. Never in my wildest dreams did I think that I would be French kissing my mother. It happened and continued to happen. I knew she was playing the part of a loving girlfriend. The role of a bewitched teenager in love and on a date to prom. But it didn't matter because she was fulfilling fantasy after fantasy for me.
I didn't want the night to end, I didn't want it to ever end, but it did. As the chaperones ushered us out, everyone headed to their waiting vehicles. We walked amongst the cheerful chatter and banter, and my heart sank. I felt like Cinderella must have felt when her carriage turned back into pumpkins, and her dress turned back to rags. I looked at my mother with sad eyes and opened my mouth to thank her for being such a wonderful date. Instead, she spoke to me quietly.
"Prom night doesn't usually end when the dance ends honey…" she looked at the other kids leaving, then back at me again. "Come on…" Pulling on my hand, she pointed to where some kids were jostling about. Peter was amongst them, his date on his arm.
I was both relieved and worried. It was like she had read my mind and also didn't want our date to end, but I had no idea what the night had in store for us. Having gotten away with bringing Mom as my date, I didn't want anything going awry. I swallowed past the lump in my throat, and managed to smile and nod. Her face lit up with enthusiastic joy.
She practically pulled me along, and we fell into step with the boisterous group centered around Peter. He always made me nervous, even when Mom wasn't masquerading as my date.
"Ryan!" Peter turned and slapped me on the shoulder, "That shit was lit! Did you see them bust Chris and Chrissy for smoking a joint?"
Truth be told, I hadn't noticed anything beyond the sparkle of my mothers eyes and the feeling of her against me. "Yeah, I can't believe it, they're so stupid" I lied. I could believe it, they were both fuckups.
"Ha… the perfect crime!" My mom announced, "They already graduated, the school has no power anymore!"
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