NEW STORY TITLE: My Horny Mom Knows How To Motivate!(Incest/Taboo)
Mom motivates son to pass his classes her own special way.
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“Now, Mrs. Porter, I’m not sure what’s going on with Josh. He just doesn’t seem motivated.” My son’s Economics teacher shifted in his seat, trying to surreptitiously scope out my breasts as he continued to discuss the problems Josh was having in his class. I shifted a little away from Mr. Delson, wishing I hadn’t picked out this particular sweater to wear to the Parent-Teacher conference. The V-necked cashmere sweater clung too tightly to my breasts and too much cleavage was exposed and this horny guy couldn’t resist letting his eyes crawl over my partially exposed breasts.
I sighed unhappily as I listened. Since starting his senior year, my son had been listless, preoccupied, distracted and unreliable in his duties for his classes not taking notes, not turning in homework, not studying for quizzes and tests. In short, my son was about to fail and not graduate if he didn’t make a complete turnaround. It had been the same with each teacher I had visited.
I finally had to retreat from Mr. Delson’s continuous litany of my son’s problems, him rehashing them over and over as he stalled for more time to eyeball me. I stood up and backed out of the room, trying to be polite, saying, “I’ll have a good talk with Josh and we’ll get him turned around, Mr. Delson,” I stammered before I turned and fled, hating the fact that he was now staring at my butt. I regretted wearing the dressy jeans I had on. They were probably a little too tight and I hated thinking about the dirty movies going on in my son’s teacher’s mind.
Things didn’t get any better when I went and visited Mrs. Henderson, Josh’s English Teacher. She was close to my age and I’d known her for years I saw often at the local health which I frequented often in an effort to keep my figure in check. She had had my son for English every year that he’d been in High School. “Corinne, he’s been this way since the semester started,” she told me. “Josh has always been a lively student always participating in class, always keeping a high B+ or an A in my classes. But now, missing assignments, he’s doing terrible on my tests and he’s squeaking by with a C- only by my good graces. He’s looking at best a ‘D’ or worse if he doesn’t turn it around.”
“I just don’t know what has happened with him,” I replied, not quite telling the truth. “I’ve been hoping it’s just a phase Josh’s going through and that he’ll snap out of it.”
Mrs. Henderson pursed her lips and studied me for a minute. She appeared to be struggling with a decision. Finally she nodded and as she unlocked a drawer, she said, “I think, I think I have an idea, Corinne. I’m not sure I should show you this, but if anyone can help your son, I think it will be you.” She reached into the drawer and pulled out a sheet of notebook paper. “We were reviewing for a test over Shakespeare last week and instead of writing notes, I caught Josh drawing this. I took it up.”
She handed it to me. I looked down and gasped. It was a picture of a naked woman drawn in colored pencils. Josh had always had artistic talent, but the detail here shocked me. My son had drawn a woman in a reclining position, hints of a sedan or sofa around the edges. She was a woman on the edge of voluptuousness, with full, mature breasts, a stomach on the edge of flatness and roundness, legs that were long and shapely. Between her open thighs was a neatly trimmed bush pointing downward towards a thick lipped vagina, partly open. Somehow, Josh had even managed to portray a hint of wetness in the slight opening
The woman’s eyes were hazel and her hair was long and unruly, hints of red in the dark brown hair. Lips were apart, conveying a gasp of excitement, her expression one of joy or maybe arousal. Silently I noted how talented my son was. I recognized this woman and this body. I should I looked at it every morning in the mirror.
“Oh my goodness,” I whispered, feeling my face begin to burn. “I don’t know I don’t know what to say, Doris. What will happen, what kind of discipline will he…” I lost my voice.
I felt the room spinning, steadying only when Josh’s teacher reached out and squeezed my hand. “It’s all right, Corinne. I didn’t show this to anyone, Josh’s not in trouble for it. I knew you’d be here for parent-teacher conferences and that we would be talking.”
Mrs. Henderson continued on. “I think it’s fairly obvious what’s wrong with your son, Corinne and I think everything will work out okay. I know you fairly well and I’m confident you can deal with this situation.”
I looked up from the erotic drawing and blurted out, “How? My god, I can’t even begin to think of how to take care of something like this. Should I take him to the doctor? Maybe a psychiatrist? Where do I begin, Doris?”
She looked me in the eye and took a deep breath. “Mrs. Porter Corinne, as one mother to another who raised two boys, I just know that deep down you know in your heart how to help your son.” She paused and then said slowly and carefully. “All Josh needs is his mother’s love. It takes bravery and patience, but I know you can do it. Do it for your son and in the end, do it for yourself. I know he is all you have and you want him to be happy. I want you to feel free to call me if you need a word of encouragement or advice.”
My eyes grew wider with each word she spoke. Was I losing my mind or did I truly understand what this woman was saying to me? My whole world seemed to be falling apart and I could scarcely believe I comprehended what she was suggesting.
I needed to escape. I glanced at my watch and giggled nervously. “Oh my, look at the time. It’s getting late and I know you have other parents to see.” I rose up, folding up my son’s drawing and shoving it in my purse. “Thank you, Doris um, Mrs. Henderson. Thanks for everything.”
Josh’s English Teacher rose up with me. She took my hand and then gave me a quick hug. “It will be alright, Corinne. You have a wonderful son and you’re a good mother. I know that you’ll know what to do.”
We left it at that and I fled her room and walked quickly through the halls, convinced that everyone was staring at me and my red face. I felt like everyone could literally read my thoughts and I felt so ashamed. I reached the parking lot and climbed inside my minivan, the “Mom Mobile” as Josh had dubbed it. I pulled the drawing out of my purse and for a second, marveled at the talent and detail my son had put into it. Then I burst into tears. This was all my fault.
Where do I truly begin? I am a single mother, thirty-nine years old and raising a son, Josh who turned eighteen this past summer. He started a year late to school due to having scarlet fever when he was six and losing too much time in the fall of what should have been his First Grade year. I divorced Josh’s father ten years ago, when it became apparent that his job and his beer drinking cronies came first. He drifted away and we haven’t heard from him since. I do well as a buyer for a department store in town. We aren’t rich, but we have a good life.
My son has been my pride and joy my source of inspiration and strength all these years. He’s been a good son, until his senior year, a hard working student and except for a couple of speeding tickets, hardly a worry. He has always been shy around the girls, but started to date a little after he turned seventeen. I was maybe a little jealous, but I thought I was okay with it. I knew he had to grow up someday.
Myself, I have dated off and on, even came close to getting remarried once, but he suddenly announced plans to send Josh off to boarding school and I sent him packing. My sex life has been mostly a solitary one confined to my bedroom with the usual toys in a bedside table drawer.
I’ve always considered myself to be a good looking woman and I have never been ashamed to dress a little sexy to show off my looks. My son’s drawing was dead on accurate. I am a tall woman, five foot, nine inches tall. I still have a good figure, but it takes a lot of work I’m always working out, either at the gym or to an exercise tape, you may have even seen me walking around the neighborhood. The exercise has kept my long legs shapely. My figure is 40DD-27-38, and as the years go by, I’m getting more voluptuous, but I know that my body, combined with this big mane of hair that looks bed-tousled constantly can still turn heads. The problem has always been finding a decent man to share myself with.
Maybe it was my sexy outfits that started the problem. I favor clothes that flatter and sometimes flaunt my figure. I wear dresses that are shorter than most women my age would wear to show off my great legs and I’ve never been one to hide the fact that I have tits. I like people to know I am all woman! Maybe, I’m too immodest around the house. I usually don’t think much about running around in bra and panties in front of my son I’ve been doing it all his life. In summer, I spend a lot of time in the back yard getting my tan. I don’t wear scandalous bikini’s, but with my figure, but I guess I’m still showing off a lot of skin.
Maybe it was my hugging and cuddling with Josh that started the problem. I’ve always been demonstrative with my affections and because Josh is always there and he is practically my best friend, I have always showered him with physical affection. I just didn’t think how maybe as he got older, hugging and kissing on him could cause problems or maybe I’m lying to myself, maybe I knew exactly what I was doing, especially over the past couple of years as I watched him mature and start to notice girls and I realized that one of these days he might just leave me. Maybe I was competing for his affections, flirting with him to remind him that all those high school girls weren’t the only ones who loved him.