Copyright 1996 Jim Fix

This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without
the written permission of the author.  This story may be freely
distributed with this notice attached.  The author may be contacted
at jimfix@earthlink.net or through mrdouble@ix.netcom.com.




Growing up with Mom

An erotic story by Jim Fix

I stand by an open grave in bright summer sunshine with feelings of darkest 
December inside. There are less than ten people at the graveside ceremony and 
I wished there were none. I am burying the only woman I have ever loved and 
the presence of the others seems like an intrusion. I stood quietly by the coffin 
and wait until everyone leaves so I can be alone with my mother and my 
memories of our life together. The love we shared is going with her to eternity. 
Now all I have is memories. . . . 

I remember well the day my father was dragged out of the house by a couple of 
Deputy Sheriffs. My mother was taken away in an ambulance to the hospital 
after a particularly severe beating by father over money my mother insisted we 
didn’t have. I spent a few days in foster care until Mom was released from the 
hospital and took me home. . . .

Mom and Dad married when she was barely sixteen and already pregnant with 
me. Dad blamed her for taking his life away with her pregnancy and me for 
just being alive. He drank heavily and slapped Mom around for the slightest 
infraction of his arbitrary rules. I learned quickly to stay out of his sight and be 
quiet or suffer the consequences at his hands. I remember the happy times 
Mom and I had together when he was away at work and the terror Mom 
suffered when he was out drinking at night. When he came home drunk he 
inevitably had to slap her around before he forced her to have sex with him.

I have memories of laying in my crib in our tiny two room apartment and 
hearing the animal sounds from their bed as he pounded flesh against flesh 
until he was satisfied. Afterward he would berate mother for being a lifeless 
lover and if he wasn’t completely exhausted pick a fight over her lack of 
enthusiasm for sex. Our best nights when Dad was home were those when he 
came home so drunk he just passed out.

One time when Mom called the police to calm Dad down and he was nice as pie 
until they left. Mom lived in hell of his making for weeks afterward and never 
called them again. She had learned that when the police left after extracting a 
promise from Dad to do better, things only got worse. 

The last time Dad beat Mom he made so much noise slamming her around and 
she screamed so loud the neighbors called the sheriff and two deputies came 
and took Dad away. I never saw him again.

When Mom brought me home from foster care the next weeks were filled with 
courtrooms and offices with people sitting behind desks asking questions. Dad 
went to jail for a month or two and was released on probation. He never came 
around anymore and I didn’t miss him. Perhaps a year later we heard he had 
been stabbed by a woman he was living with after he beat her up. He was dead 
when the police arrived.

With no income after Dad went to jail Mom applied for welfare and our privacy 
was mostly removed by social workers and welfare investigators. People came 
to our apartment and looked in the refrigerator to see what kind of food Mom 
had and asked what seemed to me a million questions. The investigators even 
asked our neighbors questions about us so what little privacy we had became 
very precious indeed. I learned to be very secretive from this experience and 
would talk to no one about our private life. The only good thing about welfare 
was we got to move to a nicer apartment in a better part of town.

The seeds of our relationship were sown out of necessity and loneliness. Before 
Dad left I was the only person who gave Mom any love or affection and we 
became very closely bonded. Mom was little more than a girl herself and my 
childish love was the only good thing in her young life. She would carry on long 
one-sided conversations with me and shower her pent-up need to love on me. 
The terror filled nights of waiting for a drunken husband to come home she 
spent hugging me close and sharing her hopes that he would just this once be 
in a good mood. I spent many a night sitting on her lap hugged close to her 
breast.

The absence of abundant hot water for a bath and little heat in winter removed 
any modesty between mother and me. In the cheap apartment that Dad rented 
Mom could only run one bath before the hot water ran out so we would bathe 
together for as long as I could remember. She would scrub me all over and 
rinse me off and I would wash her back for her. The back washing branched 
out to include all over as I grew older and learned how to scrub her properly. I 
was always fascinated by her breasts and she would let me amuse myself as I 
carefully washed them. At first I was only allowed to touch them when we were 
in the bath. 

I remember one time in particular when I was sitting astride her tummy and 
washing her breasts. She was lying back in the tub with her eyes closed 
enjoying the attention she was getting when my little penis became erect. 
When she noticed it she took it in her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. Her 
hand felt good there and I continued to rub her soapy breasts with my bare 
hands as she held my little soldier, as she called it, in her hand and gently 
stroked it back and forth causing pleasant little tickles. We stopped only when 
the water began to get cool. This became a ritual at almost every bath and I 
found it as natural as my mother’s kiss. 

Another time I was washing Mom’s legs and I noticed she didn’t have a little 
soldier between her legs as I did. When I asked about her missing member she 
explained that boys and girls had different parts between their legs. Curious, I 
washed the outside of her vagina with the washcloth and was surprised when 
she gasped as I touched it. She sat up from her reclining position plunging it 
underwater out of my reach. 

One day I was washing her legs with my bare hands and I let my hand slip 
between her legs to wash that curious triangular patch of hair. A soapy finger 
slid inside her much to my surprise. I was a little scared at first but Mom didn’t 
seem to mind at all, in fact, she seemed to enjoy what was happening very 
much so out of childish curiosity I explored the new phenomenon I had 
discovered. After a few moments she guided my fingers to a little bump just 
above the big hole and showed me how to massage it. As I massaged her little 
bump she began to move her hips back and forth and make little noises that 
were even to my young ears caused by pleasure. Not yet five, I had 
masturbated my mother to orgasm. When it was over she hugged me and 
kissed me with a fervor she never had never shown before and made me 
promise never to tell anyone about what we did in the bath. She explained that 
this was just as much fun for her as it was for me when she played with my 
little soldier. We had so little happiness in our lives anything that brought a 
little joy was welcomed by either of us and I would have done anything that 
made Mom happy if only for a moment. Neither of us ever told Dad anything 
out of fear so keeping secrets was as normal as breathing. Another bath time 
ritual was born.

When Dad wasn’t home which was about half the time Mom would take me to 
bed with her. In winter it was cold in our apartment and we would huddle 
together in bed to keep warm. Other times we slept together for mutual 
emotional support. What was born of necessity continued after we moved into 
our new apartment that was well heated and had two bedrooms. We slept 
together every night after Dad was gone.

One morning shortly after we had moved I woke up before Mom and was just 
laying there enjoying being alive in a warm snug bed. I was laying on my side 
facing her and she was facing me. One of her breasts had fell free of her 
nightgown and the nipple was only inches from my face. I wondered what it 
would feel like to take the nipple in my mouth and suck it and after a few 
seconds of hesitation I began to do just that. Mom stretched her body as she 
awakened and put her arms around me to hug me even closer to her breast. 
Holding me tightly she rolled on her back and pulled me on top. We lay like 
this for a long time and she freed the other breast so I could give it some 
attention also. I alternated between left and right until my mouth got tired and 
then stopped. Mom removed her panties and guided my hand to her vagina 
and I began to masturbate her as I had in the bathtub. She pushed my face 
into her breasts and I got the idea she wanted me to suck her nipples at the 
same time. She wiggled and bucked her way to an orgasm and finally lay still 
while I kept my fingers buried inside her. I liked to feel the inside of her vagina 
and as wet as she was it was easy for me to slip my fingers around and feel 
what it was like inside that mysterious crevice.

Afterwards she removed my shorts and lay me on my back. She took my penis 
in her mouth and began to suck it as I had her nipples. This caused a whole 
new series of sensations for me. She had never done this before and after the 
surprise was over I found myself enjoying the warm moist sucking and rubbing 
she gave me with her mouth and tongue. When I looked up there was her hairy 
vagina right over my face. She stopped sucking me long enough to tell me to 
suck and massage her little bump with my tongue.

I wasn’t prepared for the reaction out of Mom when I started. She pushed down 
into my face and almost smothered me at first. When I complained we reversed 
positions with me on top and continued. This was much better for I could now 
see what I was doing and when she thrust her hips toward my face I could still 
breathe. I could judge how much fun she was having by how hard she sucked 
on my little soldier. That morning I quickly brought her to orgasm. Later I 
learned how to tease her and make her go almost crazy by varying the tempo of 
my tonguing on her little bump. I liked to prolong these intimate times for I 
enjoyed my half of the fun and wanted it to last as long as possible.

Sunday mornings were the best of all our intimate times. When we woke up we 
would just lie abed and play with each other. After Mom had had an orgasm or 
two I would just lie between her legs and play with my pink toy, the code name 
for Mom’s vagina later shortened to just my toy. She showed me how my little 
soldier was supposed to go inside her but I was just too small at that time. I did 
rub his head against her little bump and discovered a new world of sensations. 
We would while away the whole morning doing little else except giving each 
other pleasure.

I loved my mother very much and her love for me knew no bounds. Outside our 
intimate play she showered me with affection and if I did anything to displease 
her a stern word or two was all that was necessary to put me back on the 
straight and narrow. Everyone commented on our devotion to each other and 
what a good job she was doing raising a son alone.

When I started kindergarten Mom went back to school to finish high school. 
Her classes were long and I had to spend a lot of time in day care. I missed her 
terribly but she patiently explained why we had to be separated all those hours 
during the day so she could get a job and give us a better life. Since Dad had 
gone I was in heaven and couldn’t see how our life could be better but I took 
her word and suffered quietly missing her constant presence.

It was while I was in kindergarten I learned that my relationship with my 
mother was different from other children’s. The secrecy and reticence learned 
in our early welfare days stood me in good stead. I never talked about my home 
life with the other kids and as I listened to their stories I realized what a 
wonderful mother I had. They lived dull lives compared to Mom and me. I also 
figured out that our intimacy was considered a bad thing by society in general 
and learned one good lesson; what everyone believes may not be right in all 
cases.

During the last half of first grade I had a growing spurt and shot up like a 
weed. My little soldier did some serious growing also and finally I was large 
enough to penetrate my pink toy. This added a whole new dimension to our 
intimate play and introduced me to the real joy of sex. I hadn’t matured 
enough to have an orgasm yet but I loved the sensations I felt inside my toy 
and I could stay erect forever it seemed. Mom particularly enjoyed sitting 
astride me and rocking back and forth until she exploded with one orgasm 
after another. Other times I would lay on top and pump away until I was too 
tired to move. One of my favorite positions was to lie crossways between her 
legs with one of her legs between mine and her other leg over my waist. In this 
position I could bury my little soldier inside her toy and we could relax and be 
comfortable while maintaining intimate contact. Many nights we fell asleep in 
this position. The most pleasant feeling on earth was to have my little soldier 
deep within the confines of her warm slippery flesh. I would never miss an 
opportunity to enjoy our mutual pleasures either orally or in the more 
conventional manner.

Mom finished her high school course and graduated when I was in second 
grade. I was her escort at her graduation party and when she introduced me as 
her son I could see disappointment on several of the men’s faces. Mom was a 
reasonably attractive 23 year old woman but the baggage of a son of seven was 
more than most men her age could tolerate. I later learned she feared any 
intimate relationship with men her age after her experience with Dad. It was 
of little consequence to her for we had each other and our life together was an 
island of love and emotional safety in a dangerous sea. After the public party 
we had our own private party at home in the security of our bedroom safe from 
the prying eyes of the outside.

Mom landed a day job and we were finally free of welfare investigators. She 
had by her own sweat earned us our privacy. The experience had matured both 
of us. Mom had developed little mentally while she lived with Dad but after he 
left she had grown by leaps and bounds as she faced the world and made a 
place for us to live. She had always treated me as her equal and I was wise far 
beyond my seven years. She was shrewd at work and gained promotion after 
promotion. When she found her education inadequate she would go back to 
school until she had the necessary tools. As she moved up in her job our living 
circumstances followed suit. She was a loner in the business world and had no 
romantic entanglements to create barriers to her advancement. Few people 
even knew she had a son.

I was twelve when a major change came into our life. I can recall that morning 
as if it were yesterday. Mom and I were enjoying a typical Sunday morning and 
I was pumping away when I began to feel a new sensation. The pleasant 
tickling feeling I was accustomed to began to build higher and higher in waves. 
The pleasure was centered in the head of my penis and radiated out to my 
entire body. It became almost unbearable but I couldn’t stop until it reached a 
crescendo that was very nearly pain and violent contractions seized my groin 
causing something to spurt out of my penis. With a cry of pleasure I collapsed 
on top of Mom in a state of contentment and fulfillment I had never 
experienced before.

What I hadn’t noticed was she had also had a super orgasm and we were both 
in a state of ecstasy. When we calmed down enough I told Mom what I had just 
experienced. She carefully explained that I had just had my first ejaculation 
and that sex would be like that from now on. We spent that glorious morning 
exploring my new ability.

We were as close as a man and a woman can become. We were united by the 
bonds of a mother and son and we were also joined as lovers. We were so close 
we could almost tell what the other was thinking. Any separation, if only for a 
matter of hours, was hard to bear. We had become almost a single entity in two 
bodies.

When I became older we moved to another city and lived openly as a couple. 
Those were some of the happiest years of our lives. Too soon they ended.

Cancer, a terrible word that strikes fear in everyone, came to visit us. One day 
she was the light of my life and a few months later I was standing by an open 
grave mourning my loss. How would I ever be able to go on without her?

"Daddy, lets go now. Mummy wouldn’t want us to be so sad."

I silently said goodbye to Mom and allowed my daughter to lead me away.



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