“Let her give birth, and that will change. It did for me. 21 years later, and I still think of these as ‘Drew cups’, because I was a B before you came along!” she said, while putting both hands over her bra and squeezing a little bit.
“Oh, I did not need that mental image, Mom.” I said, shaking my head.
“What? Didn’t realize I had breasts?”, she said, chuckling.
“I’m done talking about them — this, Mom. Ready to load up for Grandma’s?” What I couldn’t say was that not only was I aware she had breasts, really nice ones, but finding out that her bras were somehow my namesakes left me imagining being them, snug against her breasts.
~~~~~
Lunch and gift exchange at my other grandparents’ home wasn’t too notable, except for everyone trying a little too hard to be merry instead of sad, and occasionally the sad slipping through in patches anyway. It felt more than a little fake, producing emotional distance at just the time I wanted to feel closer to everyone. More clothes, more gift cards.
Eventually, Mom and I excused ourselves, and came home to have a quiet dinner with each other, during which we discussed getting Mom a new mattress the next day, emptied our Christmas stockings, and went to bed together, for what we thought would be the last time.
~~~~~
December 26
I guess it was inevitable. I was actually surprised it hadn’t happened before then. I awoke that morning to find Mom’s body spooned behind me, her breasts pressed into my back, and her hand draped over my hip. And my cock was hard as a rock, with her fingers just in contact with it through my sweat shorts. Her fingers weren’t moving, just resting against it. Her breathing indicated she was still sleeping. Between spending nearly every waking moment with her and her sleeping with me every night since Dad had passed, I hadn’t had any good opportunities to jerk off at all, so having morning wood didn’t surprise me much. But Mom touching it in her sleep? Oh. My. God.
The only way I could figure out to get up without waking her was to roll onto my stomach, which of course dragged my mom’s hand across my ass, then slip my leg over the edge of the bed so I could finish sliding out from under her hand. Mom didn’t stir.
I grabbed a fresh pair of boxer-briefs and went into my bathroom, locked the door behind me, and got in the shower, and started soaping and stroking my cock immediately. I was picturing Patti going down on me, her tongue swirling around my head, and then pictured fucking her, but just as I was shooting my wad against the tiles, the image of my Mom in the towel from the day before popped into my head, and my orgasm actually intensified, when I would have thought it would stop me in my tracks. ‘What the hell?’ I thought. But I dismissed it as being connected to my Mom having been in contact with me right before the shower. I finished my shower, putting the clean briefs on before going back into my room.
Mom was awake and sitting up in the bed as I entered my room, tossing the dirty sweat-shorts into my hamper. She chuckled, “Decided not to flash your Mom again, huh?”