The best mom

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I’m 23, live at home with my mom and I’m happy about it. Mom and Dad have been separated for years, but never got a divorce because of health insurance and a couple other things I forgot about about long ago. My mother is an attractive brunette woman in her fifties and I had been urging her for months to go online to Match.com or some other matching thing. She has a nice body, average B cup breasts and is shapely in a MILF way that she keeps up with exercise or yoga classes. The best thing about her is her personality, though. She’s always smiling, always happy and loving. She had been pushing me to find a girlfriend, too, but no one seemed that interested in me. I stopped urging her to find a guy a few months ago. Here’s why.

My state legalized marijuana and edible forms of it. I never smoked it, but had a curiosity about candies and edible forms after seeing a segment on TV about what a business was offering. Even still, it took me a long time to get around to doing anything. I mentioned it to my mom, and she was curious, too.

“Be careful. Don’t try anything and drive. Ginger took some, didn’t feel anything, took some more fifteen minutes later, didn’t feel much, took another and then ended up on the floor zonked all night. She said she couldn’t even move. I’ll stick with my glass of wine.”

A week or so later I walked into a place that sold the stuff legally. A guard checked my ID and buzzed me into a room where a cheerful and helpful young lady with a bunch of arm tattoos explained about the different things she offered, potency and what kind of high it generated. I was a little skeptical, but bought a package of ten gummies for fifteen dollars.

The gummies sat on the top of my dresser for a couple weeks. Then my mom noticed them when she was cleaning and came to me eyes wide.

“You bought them!”

“I did, but I’m a little nervous about trying them. I’m curious, but a little voice wonders if I will end up addicted and ruin my life.”

“Oh, Honey. You’re too smart for that” my mother responded.

“Maybe. Anyway, I’m waiting for the perfect time to try them. And there never seems to be one.”

“How about if we both try one together on our movie night?”

Sunday night we often watched movies together, going back to the time when it was a treat after I finished my homework. Most of the time neither one of us had anything social going on, so it was “our night.”

A few days later, we did it. I put my sweats on after a nice Mexican dinner and my mother wore her usual yoga pants and loose tee shirt, no bra. We ceremoniously took a gummy each and settled in on the couch and pulled up Netflix. We started watching “The Queen’s Gambit” which was kind of interesting, but we were distracted. Every five minutes we looked at each other and asked “Feeling anything yet?”

The answer was no, no, and no, but after a half hour my mother said that maybe she was feeling a little something. Not a high, but more relaxed.

I wasn’t feeling much, but when I got up to get iced tea, I realized I was a little unsteady.

Mother went to the bathroom while I refilled our drinks, and when I got back she said “Let’s spoon” while we watch. So we did, as we have many times over the years, and spooned on the couch for a bit while we watched this young chess prodigy from a weird background get better and better at chess.

After awhile I forgot about the iced tea because it meant untangling from my mother each time I did. So I arranged a pillow under my head and slipped my arm around my mom. My hand fell onto her bare stomach, but my mother took no mind. Her stomach felt nice, and it seemed natural to caress her soft skin, so I did. Mom made little noises of contentment as I stroked, which frankly were very sexy. I felt my self getting hard and wondered if my mother felt that, but she seemed unaware.

As the minutes passed, we kept asking what the other was feeling. My mom just kept saying “Relaxed. I feel really relaxed, but maybe I would anyway just getting comfy with you. I don’t know.”

About an hour in I started feeling kind of mellow, and said so. Mom said “Me too”, patted my hand and turned to kiss me on my face, but ended up kissing my nose because of the angle. We both laughed at that, and snuggled back together, mom pushed her butt back against me a bit and pulled my butt towards her, making a “mmmm” noise, then putting a hand over my hand, the hand that was caressing her stomach.

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