My Mother - A Real Wet Dream


My Dream

I’m sure everyone has dreams they never tell another soul. Dreams that need to stay hidden forever else others think you crazy, or worse, a pervert. I never planned to tell that dream but the dream was becoming more insistent as time passed, until now it was happening every night. Maybe it was madness. Maybe I needed to admit I needed help.

Still living home, even though I had been working for two years since school. Saturday morning and I was picking at breakfast. Mom was hovering around silently while Dad was still out from working on Friday night. I knew he wasn’t working. Hell, everyone knew he wasn’t working. Even I’d seen the bimbo he was fucking, but Mom kept the pretence.

Every time Mom wandered close I had the feeling she was looking for an opening to talk. Maybe I was too, but my thoughts were stewing over Dad. Next time Mom came close she made to clear her throat and I looked up to her face and said, “Mom?”

“You want some more?”

“Can we talk?”

“You know we can always talk,” she said moving the top of the closest chair back as though to sit. “You know I can keep secrets.”

But you deserve better than that, I thought before saying aloud, “I’ve had a dream that fills my nights, and I can’t seem to stop it.”

Mom lowered herself into the chair she had held before, facing me across the kitchen table. “Girls?” I shook my head. “I’ve noticed you don’t go out much lately.”

“Airheads and trash, that’s all I seem to find.” I’d spat the words and that wasn’t like me. “Sorry Mom, that’s unkind of me but girls are not really my problem.”

“It’s a truth,” Mom said distantly and then stayed silent, so long I felt I needed to go on to fill the void.

“It started weeks ago,” I said softly. “I was lying naked on the ground and a woman was standing over me.”

“Do you know her?” Mom only asked when I’d been quiet.

I nodded, and continued, “She was peeing on me. Peeing all over me. Squirting in my mouth and all over my cock.”

“Did you like it?”

I looked carefully at Mom’s face and saw her staring hard back at me. “I loved it Mom. Even though it was pungent like morning pee, I still loved it. Even the memory of the smell still excites me.”

“Did you make love,” Mom asked distantly, as though she was remembering something from the far past.

“Powerful urgent love. I fucked her so hard as though our life depended on it. The slippery wetness and smell were almost primal and we fucked like animals.”

“Then my baby?”

“I peed over her. Covered all her body with my own pee.” I’d not really intended to say so much, but… “We lay together when it was over and held each other too tight until the dream ended. Now I have the same dream every night. I’m worried I might be going mad, or turning into some sort of pervert.”

“You’ve told no one?”

“No one Mom. I wasn’t really wanting to tell you.”

Distant traffic sounds penetrated the house walls while we both sat in silence until Mom said, “You’re not a pervert son. Don’t you think that for one moment.”

“But you don’t know it all,” I said softly. “The woman was you.”

I’d thought she would jump in and say something, but she stayed silent a time.

“It’s natural that a boy dreams of loving his mother.” She’d said it as softly as I’d spoke, but her eyes were looking into mine over the table. “You’re not a pervert for dreaming. Maybe the trouble around this family is affecting you.”

“I’d thought of that Mom, but I want it to be real. Does that make it right?”

“Maybe if you made it real. Act it as you dreamt it. Maybe then the dream would go away and you would settle.”

I looked at my mother and our eyes locked. I didn’t need to answer.

“Saturday morning next,” Mom said. “I’m sure your father will be working late again.”

I knew exactly what she was saying, and she knew I knew too.

“We have a week to make sure.” We stayed looking at each other over the kitchen table. It might be early and her just out of bed, and she might be so much older than the girls I was dating, but Mom looked better than all them put together. She’d always looked after herself, and taught me to do the same. Always looked her best for her man even though he was more interested in some bubble-butt bimbo who was young enough to be my sister. There seemed to be nothing more to say. Our future had been set and further discussion was pointless.

I was sure.


...o O o...


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