When You’re 18. That’s what Mom said to all my questions

When You're 18

That’s what Mom said to all my questions

“Happy Birthday my Special Man,” Mom said as I shuffled out my bedroom. “The day we’ve both been waiting for has finally come.”

Mom had the date circled on the calendar in red pen. Tuesday the fifth – my eighteenth birthday, not that it was such a big thing. Some others had parties to celebrate, but the truth was, we didn’t have a crowd of people to celebrate with, even if we had the spare money.

“Thanks Mom.” Bare-footed I padded toward her, my arms loosely held up toward her waist and my lips ready to peck her cheek as I always did, but she suddenly turned and my lips found hers, soft and hot and slick with her lipstick. The shock had me jerking away and staring at her face, while my tongue licked over my lips, the taste of some exotic tropical fruit teasing my senses.

“You don’t want to kiss your old Mom properly now you’re a man? I’m sure you kiss those young girls at school different.”

“You surprised me,” I said, my ears burning and me hoping she couldn’t see as I moved carefully back toward her lips.

“You can hold me tighter. Like this.”

Her arms were around me and pulling me closer. One hand with fingers splayed on the small of my back, and the other chest height. I tried to copy, my higher hand feeling the strap of her bra under my fingers, the one below feeling the bumps of her backbone through the flimsy material of her uniform. Her eyes so close, large and brown and burning right into me. I puckered ready to kiss and was drawn to her eyes, wide and loving and coming closer and closer. The smell of tropical fruits again, and then we were kissing and her lips were pressed against mine and I could only see one eye and it was so close and it was as though I had died and gone to heaven. Both her hands were sliding over my back, always pulling me closer and closer, and the firm points of her bra were drilling into my chest.

And then it was over.

There was space between our lips, and she had two eyes again, and it felt safe to resume breathing. “Was that better my baby?” Her warm words washing over my face.

Still holding her loosely to me, I hesitantly said, “Yes.”

“I promised you would know everything when you were eighteen, but I have work now so when we’re both home tonight, I’ll answer all your questions. And I have a surprise present for you too.”

“I know we haven’t the money for gifts,” I said, reluctantly letting my arms slacken a little from her.

“This is a special time, and this will be a special present. You just wait.” I had to let her go fully. “See you tonight my special man.”

I followed close behind as she went to the door, and when she turned, her eyes were almost twinkling, and looking happier than I’d seen for a long time.

The scent of her lips still lingered on mine as I closed and locked the front door. Then frantically grabbing my pyjamas I ripped them off and threw them toward the lounge, letting me run naked to the bathroom and the hamper. Close on top and covered with a shirt and towel. Her treasure. A beige bra and scrunched up black panty. Sitting on the toilet alongside, my cock already straining up, I began with the bra, always going for the hem under the cups, that’s where the strongest scent hides. Warm and musky and safe and familiar. Home.

Opening her panties released more of her secret scent. Strong and musky and exciting and so forbidden. I love it. That scent always makes my cock grow and then strain to stick out even more. As the flimsy material comes closer to my nose, and her scent becomes stronger, my cock feels like it is ready to burst. The pressure making the shaft wobble from side to side, and the hole in the very end open and leak a growing dome of clear and slippery liquid.

There is a white crusty patch in the material of her panty that shows where her pussy had been cradled by the material all day. That patch has the strongest scent. Using one hand to hold her panty, that white patch held up close to my nose, while my other hand slowly rubs that slippery liquid around the end of my cock. Around and around, as my cock makes even more goo to help me, and I breathe deeply to inhale every bit of her magical scent.

Eyes closed and she is standing before me, her legs spread a little and my mouth close enough to bury my nose inside the source of the scent that is straining my cock.

“I love you Mom,” I say aloud. “I want you so much.”

My balls are tightening and my cock throbbing, but I squeeze my balls tight.

“My cock needs to be inside you Mom. I need to fuck you now.”

And there is no way to hold my cum back now. Even if Mom walked into the room herself, there was no stopping. The hand with one finger circling the end of my dick needs to quickly grasp all my fingers around the whole shaft of my cock as though my hand was Mom’s pussy, my fingers substituting for the insides of her cunt.

“I know you want it deep inside.”

My balls are pumping now. Even though I’m willing it to wait, the rhythmic pulsing in my cock says it’s too late. I race her panty from my face down to hold the patch I had been smelling against the end of my cock just in time for the first blast of cum to erupt over the centre of the white section. Glob after glob of my seed cover the closest to her pussy I can get. My potent white liquid covering her white crusty stain.

“I love you Mom.” I say the words aloud as my pleasure begins to ease, and I wipe the last drips of cum from my slowly shrinking cock with her panty.

When I’ve calmed some more, and returned her underwear to the place they’d been in the hamper, it’s time to think about breakfast and then making ready for school.


School was one of those things that whatever I asked the answer was always the same. When I offered to leave school and work full time. When I asked about where we should look to live. When I asked who my father was. Always the same answer – when you’re eighteen. I grew to think that both our lives were on hold waiting for something to happen. I’d talked to Crystal about it but she said that her life was the same, just waiting for something to happen.

Sandwiches prepared while waiting for the toaster. Always extra made in case she was there. Then dressing and a final look to make sure everything was tidy before locking the door and walking toward school.

- - -

The hands on the classroom clock hardly moved. The only thing on my mind was Mom’s kiss, and the feeling of her hands on my back and the taste of her lips and the look of her eyes when they were so close to mine and the warmth of her breasts when they pressed against my chest. When I looked down at my book, I’d written small hearts on each line of the maths problem I was trying unsuccessfully to solve.

Crystal was where she usually sat for lunch, well away from everyone else. She lived at the trailer park and most taunted her for that, in fact that’s how we became friends. I thought, and still do think, that she’s the most beautiful girl at school. It was not her fault that all her family had their hair cut short with clippers to save money. Clipper Head, the bullies called her until I told them forcefully that her name was Crystal. I’d never been strong like that before, but it worked, and we were friends ever since.

“Want a sandwich?” I asked making her look up from her book.

“After you tell me about being eighteen. What happened?”

She had pale blue eyes that hardly anyone ever saw, but she looked up directly at me, and for an instant I forgot what I was going to say. “Mom’s going to tell me all tonight.”

“You look different,” she was still looking into my eyes.

“Mom kissed me properly before she left.”

“Would you show me how?”

I looked all around at the other students scattered and when I turned back, Crystal was still looking at me with her wide eyes and her pale face and I wanted to kiss her so much. “We’ll need to stand up.”

She was standing first and leaning toward me a little. I stood, turning to her and lifting my arms up and around her side to pull her gently closer toward me. Then my lips moved closer and closer to hers, and when our lips met it was better than with Mom. Crystal’s lips were natural and soft and warm and wet and her hands were around my back and she was hugging so tight as though our lives depended on it. My hands were gently feeling her body for the first time. Feeling less flesh and more bones than I expected. Her waist so small and her boobs only warm bumps on my chest. I wanted her even more. Around were chants of “Clipper has a boyfriend,” but I ignored them, enjoying the feeling of her body so close to mine and the faint scent of her body and the touch of her lips as they explored my own. She broke our embrace far enough to say, “I love you,” my mouth opening to drink in the breath of her words. Then we kissed again, and it was even better the second time.

We both broke together this time. “Sit close by my side,” I said and we were so close there was no place for our arms to go. We laughed and moved apart a little. “I love you too Crystal, very much.”

“I know you love your mother more. I don’t mind being second. I was jealous when I first wanted you, but over the time I came to know you would never leave me, and you have enough love for two.”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” I said. “Things are so confused still.”

“I’ll keep waiting. I think I’ll have that sandwich now.”

We ate together in silence, the lunch box on our legs in front of us both as we sat so close we were touching from shoulder to foot.

“The confusion will go in time,” Crystal said when it was time to go back to class. “Tell me all tomorrow.”

- - -

School out, and time to run to my after-school job. Only flipping burgers and cleaning, but we need the money, even though it means I have no time for after-school activities like the others. The work’s enjoyable, but today all I could think about was the thrill of my second real kiss, and there was more of the day still to go. Luckily work was slow so there was little chance of me being asked to stay late, and I had never been so pleased to hang up my apron.


...o O o...


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