No grown man wants to be called a momma’s boy, so I was hesitant. My mom knew exactly how to win me over, though. I had been out all night drinking with my friends, and came back to home with half a hardon and thoughts of some girl I had been chasing unsuccessfully all night. What began as a scantily dressed hug she gave me when I got there turned into more than I ever imagined I’d do with my own mother. Far too drunk, my mind went into autopilot, and when I felt her warm, voluptuous body against mine I guess I lost it. Suddenly my hands were on my own mother’s ass, grabbing away, as I forced my tongue into her mouth. I guess she knew she was going to get this kind of response in her nightie, because she was massaging my tongue with hers, our lips mashing against each others, as one of her hands rubbed my ear and the other was fumbling down into my tight jeans for the swelling cock trying to break free.
I guess I must have kept going after I blacked out, because I woke up the next morning in her bed, feeling a strange sensation on my cock. I thought it was the blanket rubbing against me, but my mother was already going to down slurping down my precum. She thanked me for last night, and told me that if I didn’t remember getting her pregnant, she would make sure I wouldn’t forget. I hope our kid doesn’t do the math and realize why his birthday is mid-February.