I am the Fountain of Youth – Pt. 1

It wasn’t until I was in my mid teens that I started to wonder why the women in my family never seemed to get any older. As a kid, they just looked like adults to me. Even my sisters who were in their early twenties. That age, to a kid, still just looks like an adult. But when I turned 14 I started to wonder – are you guys not aging? I started to ask questions. My mom, who was 46 (apparently), and my four aunts would just laugh at my question. They’d explain that everyone in their family just had amazing genes, and took great care of their skin. Their answers were vague, but they were confident enough that I just chalked it up to genetics. I didn’t think about it much after that. I wondered if I would age at a similarly slow pace. The only boy in a huge family of women… None of my three sisters, my four aunts, my mother or even my grandmother seemed to get very old. Would the one boy share the trait? I hoped so.

On the morning of my 18th birthday, my mother sat me down for a talk in our living room.

“Jack, have you noticed the girls looking at you differently over the last couple of months?” I had. All the women in my family had begun to treat me a little more playfully over the last couple of months. They looked at me with a strange new curiosity, and they tried to find more opportunities to hug me or place a hand on my shoulder.

“Now that you bring it up, they’ve been more affectionate these last few months.”

“Jack, what I have to tell you today is going to shock you. For many reasons. What I need you to do is promise that after you let me finish, you won’t just run out of the house and never want to see us again.” She was looking at me with this expression that was the perfect combination of formal and adorable. Plus, my mom being my mom, it couldn’t be avoided that the look was also somewhat sexual. This is just because my mom is an obviously sexual person. The kind that anyone might suspect is trying to be seductive, simply because her face and her body are themselves so seductive.

“Mom, obviously I would never do that. You know me. I’m not easily shocked.”

“Well, there’s no way you could be prepared for any of what I’m going to tell you. And, honestly, I wouldn’t blame you for hating me. I just…”

“Mom, stop. I love you. I love you more than the world itself. I’ll forgive you for whatever it is. Whatever secret. Just let it out.”

My mom’s eyes began to fill with tears. “I’m not your mother.” She buried her head in her hands and began to sob.

“WHAT?” She didn’t say anything. She just kept crying into her hands. “Mom, answer me! What do you mean you’re not my mother??”

She lifted her head from her lap and looked at me with her red, wet eyes. She got up and then kneeled in front of me, putting her hands on my knees in supplication.

“You were adopted.” I was silent. I hadn’t expected that. And I was a little distracted by her face and hands being so close to my lap. I could feel her fingers digging into my thighs and almost clawing my legs towards her. Why was she doing that?

After a while I said, “Who? Who is my family? Where am I from?”

“I will tell you everything about your past. But first I have much more to tell you about what’s happening right now.” Her fingers continued trying to draw me towards her. What was my mom doing? She was filled with a strange animalistic desire.

“You shouldn’t call me mom anymore, sweetie. Call me Laura. Don’t call me mom anymore.” She was weeping and breathing hard but her exhaustion and her energy weren’t just coming from her sadness. She was filled with some other emotion as well. Something primal. “Don’t call me mom, Jack. I’m not your mom. I’m Laura.”

I was worried for her and in total shock. I decided to put myself aside for a moment. I brought my hands to hold her on the sides of her neck. “Laura, I don’t care if I was adopted. Please calm down. You raised me, Laura. You’re my mother, no matter what. I love you. I love you completely.”

She was panting. “No. I’m not your mother. I’m a woman who loves you, Jack. Who has loved you forever. And I have so much more to tell you.” She stood up now and straddled my legs. What the fuck was going on??

My mom was making me incredibly turned on. I was a virgin and it didn’t take much for me to start getting uncontrollably horny. And this was much. I usually can turn off my sexual feelings with my mother, despite how good looking she is. Because she was my mom! But now… Laura seemed to want me more than I knew how to deal with. I didn’t think I could resist her if she decided to take this further.

She said, “What I have to tell you can wait, Jack. It can wait.” She was dry humping me through her jeans at this point. She couldn’t control herself. Fuck. “I know this is is a lot to process but…”

And then I lost it. I didn’t want to hear her anymore. I pulled her face to mine and kissed her on the mouth. She let out a deep moan. I had no idea what I was doing. Despite everything being said, she had succeeded in making me feel the same intense desire she was, and I didn’t have the strength to resist.

Her hands went to my back and pulled me into an even tighter embrace. We kissed like our mouths couldn’t get enough of each other. I could hardly breath. It took my mom… it took Laura about five seconds to to start biting my lips a little. And then she had her tongue licking the roof of my mouth. I had hardly made out with anyone by this point, and I never knew someone could make these kinds of sensations happen with simple kissing.

She was tearing at my shirt from the back so I decided to help her out. I stopped kissing her for a moment and as I pulled back I could see a look of loss in her eyes. But then I started to take off my shirt and she was filled with an almost girlish joy. She rushed to get her own shirt off of her body.

When we were both topless she lowered my body to the floor. She was on top and she brought her eyes to mine and said again, “Jack. I’m not your mother. Tell me.”

“You’re not my mother, Laura.