It had been about two months since Dad left with his new girlfriend to start their new life, which didn't include me. His new girlfriend was pregnant, and she was concerned that my presence in his life would divide his attention from the new baby.
During the last fight my parents had, he told her she was a fat pig, and that's why he couldn't love her anymore. He just wanted his last words to her to destroy any self-esteem she had remaining. He was a bastard, plain and simple, and I now hated him for what he'd done to our family.
Mom was far from fat. Yes, she was a little thick, but no different than the plus-sized model Ashley. What's her name? Sure, she had thick thighs and a round butt. There wasn't a spec of cellulite on her. She had gorgeous curves. Her large breasts and thin waist only accentuated her luscious ass. I loved the way it jiggles when she walks.
Over the last two months, I listened to my Mother weep every night. As her frustration over the situation built, her self-esteem shrank. It dawned on me that the impending birth of Dad's new demon spawn, as Mom calls it, was weighing heavily on her. After I was born, her doctor told her she couldn't have any more children. She confessed to me that may be the reason for his infidelity. I didn't believe that for a second. Dad was just a cheater.
Mom was a wreck by the third month. She was having trouble sleeping and started drinking heavily each night. It was disconcerting to watch her decline to the sullen woman that she is today. I wanted to help her, wanted to pull her out of this tailspin that she was in. Nightly, she would sit on the sofa in her bath or nightgown, with a bottle of wine next to her on the end table. She'd given up using a wine glass a month ago. Now she'd grab it by the neck and tip it back, glugging wine by the mouth full. By the time the bottle was half empty, she'd be weepy and start crying on my shoulder.
Another month went by, and Mom was getting worse. She'd stay up drinking til she couldn't keep her eyes open. I'd have to help Mom to bed so she wouldn't sleep on the sofa. Her large breasts pressed against me as I led her to her room, and they would jiggle around when she flopped onto the bed. This particular night, Mom was halfway through another bottle. She had laid her head on my lap, blankly watching the TV with little to no interest.
"You've been a real help to me since Dad left. Thank you for that," she said, shifting onto her back to look up at me.
"Is there anything you need or that I can do for you? I realize that you are going through this divorce, too."
I slid my hand over her shoulder and into her robe, cupping her breast.
"Can I touch your boobs?" I asked tentatively.
"Why would you want to touch them?" she scoffed. "They're just bags of fat, like your Dad said."
"No, they're not. They're beautiful, like you, Mom. It might comfort you feeling the touch of a man's hands," I said, trying to sound convincing.
Mom started to sit up, saying, "Sweetie, I'm flattered that you think I'm beautiful, but your Dad leaving just proves that I'm not. At least not to him anymore. If it will make you feel better, then go ahead and touch them."
She turned onto her back and took another long swig of wine. I slipped my hand back inside her robe, resting my hand on her boob. I cupped her right breast, squeezing it. It was much larger than my hand, both hands, actually. I kneaded her tit like a ball of dough. It amazed me to watch her nipple grow erect.
"Do you even know what that's doing, honey?" Mom asked, looking up at me.
"No, um, I mean, I've never actually done this before," I sheepishly replied.
"Sweetie, you gotta mix it up a little, you know, play with the nipple, give it a tweak. Don't just squeeze the boob like a stress ball," she chastised me.
I did as I was told and pinched her nipple.
"Ow!" Mom yelped. "Not that hard." she slapped my hand.
The more my hand played under her robe, the more exposed her breast had become, and soon I was looking at her bare titties. I was amazed at how large her areola was, and I circled them with my fingers and tweaked her nips. I wanted to play with them both and shifted positions so I was sitting cross-legged with her head fully in my lap. I could now freely investigate Mommy's bosom. I caressed both tits in unison, grazing both nipples with my fingers. I tweaked and twisted her nips; I pinched them gently, pulling up, lifting her boobs up from her chest. I'd give them a little shake, making them jiggle. Mom laughed,
"Are you having fun?" she asked.
"Yes," I replied with a smirk on my face.
"It is nice being touched like this," she said with a sigh.
Mom's breathing changed, becoming deep and rhythmic. She closed her eyes and let her head sink deeper into my lap. I could feel the tip of my erect penis pressing the back of her head.
"Mmm, that feels good," Mom moaned as she pressed her head down harder onto my lap.
I didn't know if she meant my hands or my cock pressing against her skull. Mom's robe had fallen aside, fully exposing both of Mom's breasts. Only the belt of her robe kept me from seeing her fully nude body. Mom inhaled deeply through her nostrils, taking in the sensual touch of my fingertips. She took another long pull from the wine bottle and set it on the floor next to her. Again, she moaned,
"Mmm, do you know what you're doing, aah to me?" She whispered to me.
Mom crossed her legs, hooking her ankles, squeezing her thighs together. Her hips began to undulate, and her toes curled. She held her breath as her body trembled,