Mother’s seduction

Again, for those of you who follow my thoughts and stories it’s another long read. This one slightly different but one I hope you will nevertheless find worthwhile.



There was no question, a part of me was shocked yet at the same time I have to admit, it wasn’t as if the signs hadn’t been there and for that matter, for some long while. I guess the truth was I’d hoped it was little more than my imagination.

I eased back a little from my vantage point at the top of the landing, sure I couldn’t and wouldn’t be seen. For one, the two of them would have assumed I had gone to bed. The second reason being, sitting as they were on the sofa, pretty much with their backs to me, not only would they have had to look up, they’d also have had to turn around almost a full one eighty and even then, concealed as I was, I was comfortable enough of not being seen. As it was, neither was showing signs of wanting to know my whereabouts.

Looking down at the two of them I found myself checking out my mum’s body, or at least as much as I could see. At fifty years of age it’s my bet, most guys might assume a woman that age would be on her way out. It’s probable many are but, not so my mum. She had always looked much younger than her true age.

Don’t get me wrong. It wasn’t I’d ever looked on her in any sexual way. Sure, over the years there had been times the sight of her body had caused a few hormones to kick in. I guessed most young guys may have experienced that much but that’s as far as it had gone. Now, checking her out in her current situation, it kind of showed her in a new light and it wasn’t hard to see why my friend Mark would be interested.

Mark and I were at the same college. At twenty, he was a year older and in the year above and, like me, he was into the numerous sporting events the college had to offer. Athletically built and physically fit it was an area that gave him something of a following of girls. The truth was, I’d hoped it would have been the same for me but for reasons I’d yet to discover, where it worked for him it didn’t work so well for me.

The fact was he didn’t seem to have any problems getting himself a date despite his reputation for treating girls badly. He’d think nothing of relating details of his first dates with his friends. Of course to me, embarrassing the girls never seemed right and at times it didn’t seem fair but then where was it written life was meant to be fair?

In all, though we pretty much mixed with the same group of friends, our particular friendship was more to do with the sporting side of things, this being the reason he would spend time at mine……. Lately though, I’d noticed he’d been spending more time hanging out here than usual, as I saw it, often with little reason.

At first I’d put it down to him tiring of his usual friends…of maybe needing a break from them as can happen to all of us, but thinking back over these past few weeks and of the number of visits he’d made, and now looking down at him as he sat with my Mum on the sofa, no longer did I think it the case he’d tired of his friends. Instead I believed he was looking for a new challenge and right then, I was as certain as I could be he saw that challenge as my Mum.


As for my Mum, for reasons I couldn’t fathom, it seemed she was oblivious of his intentions. The strange thing is, she’s no dumb broad. She’d done the university thing, qualified in her subject with honours and had worked her way into an accountancy firm. For a number of years now she’d held down a highly paid job in the financial sector. Yet where Sean was concerned she didn’t seem to be able to see past the end of her nose. These past few weeks she had seen almost as much of him as she had me for of late, it was as if he’d treated our place like his own, coming and going pretty much at will.

There were times I would arrive home late after a college activity only to find him already there. Other times I’d get home early and find no one home. An hour or so later Mum’s car would pull into the driveway where, surprise surprise, Mark would be with her. He’d get out and help her into the house with the bags of groceries or shopping where she’d weakly explain Mark had kindly offered to help. Why someone usually so sensible would believe someone his age would want to help her out with her shopping was beyond me. I just knew I sure as hell didn’t, leastways, not without good reason.

The truth was, she was a great Mum but in my opinion, far too trusting of others

I continued to watch from my hiding place, my eyes still drawn to my mother’s shapely figure sat alongside Mark

She wasn’t a big person in the height department. Only five three in stockinged feet but she’s one of those women who seemed to have to do only the bare minimum to keep herself in good shape.

True, she didn’t belong to a gym and I had only occasionally seen her work out at home yet she always looked in great shape. Tonight, wearing a deep red coloured, fine knit top that accentuated her natural, 36c curves. (I’d once had occasion to check out her bra size in the laundry).I had to admit, she looked in excellent shape. Indeed, her figure had not been lost on me when the three of us were sat together in the lounge and I knew without question, those same shapely breasts of hers hadn’t gone un-noticed by Mark. Several times I’d caught sight of him eyeing her up and down, in particular, those breasts of hers. Those were times I was sure he was almost undressing her with his eyes. I think I pretty much felt then, my presence was all that was stopping Mark from trying his luck. Hence why I was now sat at the top of the stairs, hidden from view. These previous few weeks watching him with my mum had been playing havoc with my head. Tonight it was time to see if my concerns had been right and if so, how far he was prepared to go.

To be fair, I seriously doubted if Mark had ever tried it on before with someone as old as my mum, but with having dated and discarded most of the girls his own age, I could see why Mark might view her as his next sexual challenge. The fact she was as old as she was would only serve his purpose more for, if things worked out, he’d like nothing better than to boast about it amongst our mutual friends. It was how Mark worked. It was something he enjoyed doing.

Of course, this was not at all what I wanted and it was my hope, come the moment of truth…that were he to pluck up the courage …..my mother would rebuff him.

Quite how she would do this I wasn’t too sure. Maybe tactfully…maybe more forcibly. I didn’t yet know. So far as I could tell these past weeks, she seemed to have fallen for his charms. I could only hope, if he made his move, she would finally see through him and when she did, she’d do it forcibly. Friend or not, in my Mum I was sure Mark had met his match and nothing would please me more than seeing her put him firmly in his place. I guess I kind of saw it as a kind of revenge for all those girls he’d treated so badly.

The three of us had been half hour into watching.a film when I felt it was time to make my excuses, explaining I was tired, before adding it was time to hit my bed.

Up to that point, the two of them had been sat on the sofa seemingly, watching the film with some interest while I’d been sat on the sofa chair opposite, mulling over the many things drifting through my head.

For me, it had seemed a pretty dull film anyway, not that I’d paid it too much attention. While they were watching the film I’d spent much of my time watching them, not that anything had happened. My being there had put paid to that, though I had been surprised at how close Mum had allowed Mark to sit.

Be that as it may, having made my excuses I got up ready to leave the room. Mum’s parting gesture was to wish me a ‘Goodnight’ and to tell me, she too was tired and wouldn’t be long behind me. I wondered if it had been a hint from her it was time for Mark to go. If it was he certainly hadn’t taken notice.

The movement of Mum getting up from the sofa bought me out of my thoughts. I heard her say something about drinks and saw Mark give an affirmative nod of his head.

Again I suspected this was my Mum’s way of suggesting, once he’d had his drink it would be time for him to go but having left the room it was clear Mark hadn’t seen it that way for I saw him move more centrally on the sofa. I nodded to myself, aware he was probably covering his options by making sure, whatever side she chose to sit on her return, he’d remain close.

It was a few minutes before she returned. She handed him a cold beer while she’d poured herself a glass of wine, so far as I could recall, her third so far this evening. She sat back down on the sofa just as the commercials finished and the film started up again.

Mark took a good swig of his beer then leant forward to place his glass on the small coffee table. When he sat back I noted how he’d edged himself even closer to my Mum. Again, if she’d noticed at all she did nothing to object.

For the next few minutes the two of them continued to watch the film and for the first time I was beginning to wonder if maybe I’d got this all wrong The doubts were starting to creep in. Maybe he wasn’t intent on hitting on my mum, maybe it was all in my head, but when I saw him reach out his arm and rest it along the top edge of the sofa, inches from my mother’s shoulders, my doubts disappeared.

I held my breath, wondering if it was now he was going to make his move. If he was going to pluck up the courage to lower his arm down onto her shoulders and if so, what her reaction might be.

I didn’t have long to wait. No more than a minute passed before I saw him lower his arm down off the sofa yet, rather than place it around her shoulder as I expected he might, he instead began teasing the back of my Mum’s neck lightly with his fingers. I continued to hold my breath, at any moment expecting her to say something…to object. Instead, I was sure I heard a soft moan escape my Mum’s lips. Moments later my thoughts were confirmed.

“Oh that’s nice Mark!” I heard her tell him. “It’s been a long time since I’ve enjoyed a massage.”

This was definitely not at all what I would have hoped for, nor was it moments later when she lowered her head, baring more of her neck for his fingers..

Whatever opinions I had about Mark, being slow wasn’t one of them. He immediately recognised the lowering of her head indicated a willingness for him to continue. He turned slightly on the sofa so as to bring his other hand into play.

I looked on as he used both hands to massage each side of her neck.

Once more my mother let out a quiet moan of pleasure, tilting her head even further forward where for several minutes she allowed herself to enjoy whatever pleasure his fingers were giving. Needless to say, no longer did either of them appear to be taking any notice of the film.

I was amazed at what was happening. I can’t begin to tell you how many thoughts filled my head.

Surely by now my mother must have realised what he was up to. It was obvious to me so why couldn’t she as much? Why hadn’t she put him in place? Why would my Mum allow this?

As I wrestled with these thoughts I felt annoyed with my mother, angry she was acting as she was and not in the manner I’d hoped for. I bit down on my lip, frustrated things were not happening how I had wished, though still enough of my wits about me to know I needed to stay hidden. The truth was, at that precise moment, both Mark and my mother were pissing me off and I was finding it hard not to reveal myself and put a stop to what was happening below once and for all.

I leaned back a little, still watching what was taking place and it was then another thought struck me.

Until this point in time I had only been seeing events from my own and Mark’s perspective. Mark’s, because I was sure his only interest was almost certainly to try and seduce my mother……a pleasure until tonight he’d almost surely felt out of his reach. Mine, that I had wanted this evening to be about seeing my friend put firmly in his place…his ego and pride more than a little dented. The last thing I wanted was Mark recounting his sexual achievements to his friends. The very idea appalled me but I knew Mark well enough to be certain, he’d take great pleasure informing them of how he had bedded my mother.

Yet she too had feelings and now it occurred to me, at fifty years of age and with no regular guy in her life, aside from me of course, she was probably more than a little flattered someone like Mark would show an interest in her.

So far as I knew, despite the fact she was still a very good looking woman, she hadn’t dated in some while. Now here she was, albeit a little the worse for drink, sat on our sofa with a young guy who was clearly attracted to her. It was an opportunity I knew my mother rarely encountered.

I began to wonder what must be going through her mind. She was obviously flattered by his attention or she’d not have allowed him to do what he was. But what of the fact he was only a year older than me? How does a fifty year old woman handle that fact? I chewed that thought over for some moments before deciding, there was probably very few of us, when sexually aroused, could honestly say they would really give much credence to a difference in age, especially when the attention my mother was getting was probably the first in a very long while.

Now as I edged forward once more to gain a better view, more thoughts started to enter my head.

Maybe Mum was too wrapped up in what was happening. Without a date for so long maybe this was what she felt was needed, some attention.

She wasn’t foolish. It had been clear to me and I am sure to her how Mark had been paying her an unusual amount of attention of late. Now here she was, alone with him. Alone with someone keen to let her know she was still desirable. But why Mark? I wondered. Surely Mum too had heard about his reputation. About how he treated his girlfriends.

That was when another thought abruptly hit me.

I looked down at my mum, her head tilted forward, clearly enjoying his attentions.

Maybe Mum had indeed heard of his reputation and maybe now, partly due to the influence of drink and partly from her lack of dates she was hoping to find out for herself if any of what she’d heard about him were true.

I edged closer still, as close as I could without risking being seen. Mum’s head was still lowered. Mark was still massaging each side of her neck, it seemed to me, more assuredly now. Just then he leaned closer and I watched as he started to plant light kisses against the back of her neck. All at once, what had been a simple neck massage had suddenly taken on a new, sexual overtone.

My mind immediately raced, filling with the thoughts of a recent blue movie clip I had watched on the net. Of an older, sexy M.I.L.F. who’s sole aim had been to seduce a good looking, much younger guy.

It had of course amounted to no more than a movie, the kind often found on the web and one which, if I am honest I had thoroughly enjoyed. Yet movie or not, who was I to argue against something like that happening in real life.

Suddenly, even though the annoyance I felt towards my mother was still present, it was as if the scene I had watched a few weeks earlier was coming to life right before my very eyes. The fact, in this instance the young guy was the one doing all the seducing was irrelevant. Of more concern was the knowledge, this was no ordinary M.I.L.F. This was my mother.

I saw my mother turn her head and look back over her shoulder towards Mark.

“Hmmm! That’s naughty Mark. It’s hardly what a massage calls for. Is it?” I heard her tell him.

He leant forward, pressing his lips close to her right ear. I had no way of hearing what it was he was saying to her for his whispered reply was clearly meant for my mother’s ears alone. Whatever it was caused Mum to giggle like a schoolgirl and when he lowered his lips to continue kissing against her neck once more, she made no further attempts to stop him.

I could still sense my residual anger, but now, just as it had been that day watching that film clip, witnessing my friend coming onto my mother like this was getting me aroused.