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Way to Go, College Boy

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The Usual Disclaimer: This is a work of fantasy. All characters featured in sexual situations are over 18. The characters in these stories are fictional. Any resemblance to actual persons living, dead or undead is purely coincidental. Do not try this at home.

This story requires some preface. I read stories on Literotica for many years before I made an account and started writing my own stories. The stories I write are what I think of as “Literotica-style” short stories—they are written to fit in with some of the others I have enjoyed over the years. This story has some “meta-story” within it. Back when I first stumbled across the site (around 2002) I used to read nearly every story as soon as it came online. There were a lot fewer regular authors back then, and far fewer stories overall.

I recall reading a story in which a young man’s mother seduced most of his friends. When he went to college, he came back to his dorm room to find his mother and sister having sex with his new roommate. Afterwards, they leave and the roommate is never mentioned again. I recall thinking, “What about that guy? He has to feel like he got hit by a tornado or something. To him, that whole event had to have come out of nowhere.”

Then there were a couple of “Gay Male” stories in which a guy is on a business trip, staying at a hotel for a prolonged stay. In one of them, he is in town for a seminar. He gets seduced and “turned out” by a big-dicked guy, and drawn into a submissive role in a gay relationship. In the end, he divorces his wife. I recall thinking, “Whoa! He never explained anything to his wife. And what if he had kids? The family he left behind would be devastated.” That was in my mind over the years, and found its way into this story. The main character of Paul not only has his own issues to deal with, but he is side-swiped by the events of two other stories in the “Literotica Multiverse.”

Thanks to Joseph for the original story idea, and to Geek_Writer, Gobred, Cassie and Pat for the helpful feedback.

* * * * *

I was the youngest of three kids. My older brother, Trevor, joined the Army right out of high school. He was always my hero, and it devastated our family when he was killed in Afghanistan. To this day, I have trouble accepting that he is really gone. Trevor was such a larger-than-life guy it just seemed impossible. It still seems impossible. I have dreams that he shows up and tells us it was all a cover so he could infiltrate some terrorist organization. Whenever I wake from one of those dreams, it takes me a while to accept my reality—a world without him in it.

I sometimes hear Trevor's voice, sardonically snapping me out of it when things seem rough.

My sister, Jeannie, is two years older than me. She went off to nursing school three states away, but she flew home to visit during the longer school holidays and drove home to stay with us last summer. Jeannie and I weren't particularly close growing up. I thought she was mean, and she thought I followed her and her friends around too often. The last three years she was in high school, she called me a "perv" far too often. I actively avoided her most of her senior year.

When Jeannie was home last summer, she apologized for calling me names. "Paul, I am so sorry about that. I was really immature. I wanted to have my own life with my friends, and I snapped at you when I shouldn't have. Can we put that behind us and be friends? Can you forgive me?"

"Of course, Jeannie," I said with a shrug. "No hard feelings."

She spread her arms and we hugged. She squeezed me so tightly that I could feel my pulse throbbing in my temples. I could hear Trevor in that moment. "Aw, look at you two. You look like a real brother and sister now."

We made peace, but we still were not really friends. I wasn't mad at Jeannie, but I was trying to enjoy that last summer with my closest friends from high school. As a result, we rarely saw each other that summer. I wasn't even there to see her off when she headed back to school. Just days later, I was packing my car to go to my first semester of college. My mom followed me in her minivan, bringing three more boxes of my stuff. Once we got to my dorm, she helped me carry everything up to my room. I gave her a big hug and waved as she drove away.

None of my high school friends were going to the same school as me, so I would be on my own. The university had a policy that all incoming freshmen had to stay in the dorms for their first semester. My roommate was named Kyle and he was from a town just across the state border. He arrived a couple of hours after my mother left. His parents and sister were there to help him move in.

It was weird, because after meeting Kyle and his family that first day, I barely saw the guy. He was an engineering major while my major was psychology. We had no classes in common. He pulled odd hours and had a ton of labs and study groups. Kyle also took off every Thursday night to go home for the weekend, since it was only an hour drive. I didn't feel like making the long drive home and I had the dorm room to myself for the weekends.

Three weeks into the school year, I asked a girl named Stacy out on a date. We went out for dinner and a movie. I thought it was going well. After the movie, I was hoping to get a kiss and the promise of a second date. Instead, Stacy pulled out my dick in the car and gave me a blowjob. Then she begged me to fuck her. We couldn't get into my dorm room and naked fast enough. Stacy pounced on me, riding me hard and feeding me her breasts.

"God, I love how your hard dick feels inside me!" she groaned.

She shivered and came all over my sensitive shaft and balls twice. When I groaned that I was going to come, she slid to her knees and sucked me off. It was the most intense sexual experience I had to that point. Stacy was far more enthusiastic than any of my high school girlfriends had been.

Unfortunately, she was just as enthusiastic with other guys she dated. She wasn't interested in being my girlfriend, and it was not something I expected. After that amazing first date, I had expected to have some sort of long-term relationship. I felt foolish and naïve when I asked her out on a second date and found out she already had a date for that Friday night.

I found myself alone in my dorm room that Friday evening as a result. That was when my mom called. I smiled when I saw who it was, looking forward to a nice chat with my mom. As soon as I heard her voice, though, I had to sit down. Just like when my brother died, my world felt like it was spinning. Again, I could hear the heartbreak in my mother's voice.

"Your father left me," she sobbed. "After twenty-seven years of marriage, he just filed for divorce and moved out."

To say that I hadn't seen this coming was an understatement. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I just sat there with my phone in my hand, in shock. Trevor's voice snapped me out of it.

"Get your head out of your ass, college boy. Mom needs you."

I actually looked around for him, but then I did snap out of it.

"Mom, do you want me to come home?"

Her voice dripped with gratitude. "Oh, Paul, could you? I would—" she sobbed, making me feel even worse. "I really would appreciate it. I feel so alone right now."

I packed a bag quickly and kept talking to her on the phone. "You're going to be alright, Mom," I assured her.

As she revealed the sketchy details, it made even less sense. She hadn't been there when Dad packed his things and left. A lawyer had arrived that evening to serve her with divorce papers. No reason was given for the divorce. She had not been able to reach my dad, and he hadn't called or spoken to her in a week.

I was still on the phone with her two hours into my drive, but then the phone beeped. I glanced down at it. "Mom, I need to put my phone on the charger. It's dying. I'm going to stop for gas, and I'll see you in two hours, okay?"

"Okay," she replied. Already she sounded much better than when we had started talking hours earlier. "Drive safely, Paul. I'll see you soon."

I gassed up the car and grabbed a big coffee, and then I was back on the road. I was cruising along a half hour later when I saw flashing lights behind me and looked down at the speedometer. Shit! I was doing ninety.

"Way to go, college boy," I heard from the backseat. Nobody was there, of course. I still looked in the rear-view mirror.

I apologized to the officer and took my speeding ticket. After that I set the cruise control and put on some music to try to calm myself. I knew I needed to be in control of my emotions when I got home because Mom would need me to be strong for her. Just over an hour later I pulled up in front of the house. Despite the late hour, most of the lights were on. Mom squeezed the breath right out of me with the ferocity of her hug. She cried into my chest and clutched me to her with a desperation that was painful to see.

Mom had always been the happy homemaker. Classic "soccer mom" material, she was the one we could count on to give us a ride when we needed to go somewhere. She would bake tirelessly for fundraisers. She kept the house tidy so I was never embarrassed to have friends over. She was friendly to everyone. Now she was an emotional wreck and a shell of the woman I remembered. Mascara ran down her cheeks, highlighting the heartbreak in her eyes. I just held her and let her cry.

We wound up falling asleep on the couch, still holding each other. It wasn't comfortable to wake up that way, still dressed in the same clothes, sweaty, and cramped from the awkward position. I tried to disengage from her arms, and Mom woke up with a panicked expression. I kissed her gently on the lips.

"Relax, Mom, I'm just getting up to take a shower," I said.

"Oh, okay," she murmured, but she still looked reluctant to release me.

After my shower, I smelled breakfast cooking. I gave Mom a big smile when I came out to the kitchen. She tried to return that smile, but it just wasn't in her. I walked up behind her and wrapped my arms around her.

"It's going to be okay, Mom," I murmured into her hair.

We sat down and started eating when she abruptly stopped with her fork halfway to her mouth.

"It's not going to be okay, Paul," she said sadly. "Not here. I can't live by myself in this house. Everything I see makes me feel like a failure."

I finished chewing and swallowing before I nodded. "Okay. Where do you want to go?"

"I think I want to get an apartment near the campus where you are," she replied. She looked nervous when she said it; like she was afraid I would object. "Last night, after we got off the phone, I looked online. There are lots of apartments I could afford there. Only...I don't want to impose."

I reached over and squeezed her hand, giving her a smile. "I would love that, Mom."

The relief in her face was almost embarrassing. She hopped up out of her chair and hugged my head to her bosom. "Thank you, Paul," she whispered, kissing the top of my head. "Thank you."

Then she let out a small shriek when she caught her reflection in the window. She was clearly mortified to see the mascara smeared down her cheeks and her disheveled blonde curls. "Good lord," she murmured. "I need to go wash up. I'll be back in a bit." She scurried off to her bedroom and I smiled as I watched her. I thought it was a good sign that she cared about her appearance. Getting her out of this house would be another step in the right direction, getting her over this divorce.

I hadn't really thought it through, of course. I did not realize just how devastated my mother was. All I was thinking was that it would be nice to spend more time with her, and having her near the campus would make it convenient for me to visit. We packed up everything in my room that afternoon and Jeannie's room in the evening. Most of that stuff wasn't anything we needed while we were in college, so we put it into the storage unit. We packed up a bunch of other stuff that Mom wanted to keep and put that in storage as well.

I was exhausted by the time we had finished all that work. I showered and went into my room, only then remembering that it was almost completely empty. We had packed all the furniture into the minivan and cleared it out. I swallowed hard. Seeing that empty space where I used to live just drove home the reality. My parents were no longer together. This wouldn't be home anymore.

Then I had the more immediate thought, Where am I going to sleep tonight? And what will I wear? My clean clothes are all in the car.

Mom came up behind me and wrapped her arms around me. That felt a little weird, since I was only wrapped in a towel. I turned around to find her in her nightgown. I bent and kissed her forehead.

"I guess I'll sleep on the couch," I chuckled.

"Oh nonsense," she murmured into my bare chest. "You can sleep with me. I don't want to sleep alone in that big bed anyway."

"All my clothes are in the car," I said. "I just want to go to sleep. I'm not even sure where I put my clean clothes."

"That's fine," she said.

"Um...?" I started.

"That's fine," she repeated. "Just come to bed."

I followed her to her bed, and gasped when she took the towel from around my waist. She turned immediately, heading into her bathroom to hang it up. "Just get into bed," she called as she walked away.

I hurried to slide under the covers before she could turn and see me naked. I watched her walk back toward the bed, my eyes taking in her familiar face and the outline of her body. It was the first time since I arrived that she looked happy. She walked around the bed and lifted the covers, sliding into the other side of the bed. Then she slid over to snuggle up against me. I was uncomfortable to be naked in the bed with her, but tried to relax.

"Goodnight, sweetheart," she murmured, leaning over me to plant a kiss on my lips.

That kiss lingered longer than it should. I broke it off and smiled up at her face.

"Goodnight, Mom," I replied.

She turned off the bedside lamp and then rolled back over to throw her arm across my chest. She put her head on my shoulder. After a minute, she put her leg over mine. I was too tired to protest. I fell asleep before I could object to the way her knee was rubbing against the shaft of my dick.

* * *

I had an intensely erotic dream that night. There was this very attractive blonde in two of my classes named Patricia. In the dream, she was in my bed with me in the dorm room. She gave me an amazing blowjob, taking me right down her throat. I had never been with a high school girl who could do that. I had only seen it done in pornos. Then she was on top of me, riding me until she had an amazing climax.

"Thank you so much," she whispered. "I really needed that."

There was more to the dream, but that was the only part I remembered when I woke up. I was embarrassed to find myself in bed naked with my mother and I was sporting a huge boner. When I moved to get out of the bed, I was horrified to find that she had her hand wrapped around the shaft of my dick. I reached for her arm to pull her hand away, but she squeezed my dick and started to stroke it.

"Please don't go," she muttered dreamily. "I'll take care of this for you."

Oh, God, she thinks I'm Dad!

I lay there paralyzed by indecision. I knew I needed to get up out of the bed before she woke up and figured out it was my hard dick in her hand, but my hard dick was enjoying the attention. It didn't care whose hand was stroking it so nicely. I blew out a relieved breath when I felt her shifting in the bed. I figured she was going to release me and roll over, and then I could get up. She pulled the covers up over her head, and then I felt her breath on my chest.

By the time I realized what she was doing, she already had half my dick in her mouth. I couldn't believe it was happening. Then I couldn't believe how good it was. Oh my God, could that woman suck dick! I had never felt anything like it. Before I could think of a way to stop her, my eyes rolled up and I was coming. She moaned happily and swallowed every drop. There was that part of my brain that was sickened, knowing I was shooting cum into my mother's mouth, but the rest of me was just enjoying the exquisite sensation of the most amazing blowjob finale I had ever enjoyed.

After she had drained me, Mom released my dick and slid back up to hold my arm and snuggle her head back onto my shoulder. She was smiling happily in her sleep. I realized as I looked at her face that I would never look at my mother the same way again. It felt like my head was spinning.

"Way to go, college boy. You just came in Mom's mouth."

I felt like I needed to defend my inaction, but this was inside my head. I gently disengaged from my mother. She rolled onto her back, still smiling as she swallowed and licked her lips. I watched with sick fascination, and felt my cock stir. Then I shook my head and got out of bed. I walked into the bathroom and carefully closed the door behind me. I washed my face and looked at my shocked expression in the mirror. It was all I could do not to say out loud, "I didn't know she was going to do that!"

I managed to calm down enough to think rationally. Mom didn't know what she had done, and she seemed happy about it. I felt bad for letting it happen, but...fuck! That had felt really good. I couldn't imagine saying anything to Mom about it. I figured the best thing to do would be to act like it never happened and to try to act natural. I needed to be there for her as her son in this tough time in her life. By the time I dried my face, I felt much better. I grabbed a bathrobe and put it on so I could go out to my car and find my clothes.

I tried to be very quiet, but Mom was awake and smiling at me when I emerged from the bathroom.

"Good morning, sweetheart," she whispered.

"Good morning, Mom," I said, smiling at her. "I'm just going to get some clean clothes out of the car before the neighbors wake up and see me sneaking around in a bathrobe."

She chuckled. "Good idea."

It didn't take as long as I thought to find the bag with my clean clothes. I had put it on the floorboard of the passenger seat. As I pulled it out of the car, I realized that I could have easily found it the night before and avoided what happened this morning. I felt surprisingly little guilt. I hurried back inside with the bag and got dressed in the bathroom I had always used growing up. When I pulled the polo shirt over my head and brushed my hair, I thought I looked fairly normal.

"You look nice," Mom said when she saw me.

She was in the kitchen, making a pot of coffee. I smiled at her.

"Thanks," I replied. Before I could stop myself, I said, "You look nice too."

My eyes went wide when I looked over at her. She had changed from the nightgown she had worn the night before into a shorter, sexier nightie. This one was lacy and mostly see-through. I was shocked to realize that I could see her nipples and her pubic hair through it.

"Thanks," she replied. She wasn't looking at me; she was looking at the coffee pot. She had a satisfied smile on her face, though.

We had coffee together, standing in the kitchen. It was all I could do not to stare at her in that skimpy little nightie. I don't think she caught me looking at her breasts, but I couldn't be sure. I did get a shocking glimpse at her bare bottom when she bent over to find something in a cabinet. I have to admit, her ass was much nicer than I expected.

That gave me something new to work around in my brain. I felt guilty for admiring her ass, but somehow I felt better for her that she had such a nice, round, smooth backside. Mom wasn't wrinkly, old and unattractive. In fact...I tried not to be obvious as I looked at my mother's body. It felt like I was doing it for the first time. I had never checked out my own mother growing up—hadn't even thought of her as a woman, really. She was always just "Mom" in my mind.

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