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Story: MOTHER MY LOVER
 Author: slimv November 12, 2001 at 17:44:13 
    OK guys, this story is rooted in the origin of the smoking fetish. I hope you're not offended.

Dr. Laura Fleshman scratched her pen across her notebook as
she listened to her young patient describe his closet
smoking and attraction to older women.

“Would you like a cigarette now?” she asked.

Jim Peters shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah, I suppose, but I’m not going to smoke in here.”

“Why not?” asked Dr. Fleshman.

“Because this is a doctor’s office,” said Jim. “I’m not going to smoke in here.”
Dr. Fleshman picked a pack of Marlboros off her desk and lit one and offered the pack to Jim. “It’s OK,” she said. “You can smoke in here. I smoke.”

Jim shrugged off the pack of cigarettes.

“Your 20 years old Jim. You’ve been sneaking cigarettes for five years. You’re not a kid any more. You’re an adult now. Its OK to smoke.”
Jim wrinkled his face. “I know. It doesn’t make any sense. I just don’t want you to see me smoking I guess. But that’s why I’m here.”
Dr. Fleshman took a deep pull on her Marlboro and exhaled. A thick cloud of gray smoke hung above her head under the fluorescent lights. “I want to help you,” she said. “But I can’t do this for you.”
“Why am I like this?” asked Jim. “Why am I the way I am?”
Dr. Fleshman smiled at her patient and took another deep puff. “Does your mother smoke?” she asked.
“You know she does. We’ve talked about her before,” said Jim. He clasped his hands together and wrung them out of nervousness.
“Yes we have,” said Dr. Fleshman. “Your mother is 62 years old. She had you late in life. She’s a heavy smoker. She started when she was 12, so she’s been smoking for 50 years. She has emphysema but she still continues to smoke. Her husband, your father, was a lot older than her. He died from lung cancer when you were 14. You’re mother made you promise her that you’d never start smoking, but you did, didn’t you?”

Jim nodded at the recap.

“You’re in love with your mother Jim. Its as simple as that,” said Dr. Fleshman as she crushed out her cigarette in the big glass ashtray that sat on her desk. “You want to make love to her, don’t you?”

Jim wrung his hands tighter as he fought back the
humiliation, shame and anger.

Dr. Fleshman stood up and walked around her desk to where Jim was sitting on the couch. She sat down beside him and put an arm around his shoulders trying to comfort him.
“I’ve never actively encouraged any of my patients to engage in incest. But you’re case is different. Your mother is dying. You said it your self, she hasn’t been with a man since your father died. She’s too old to get pregnant. I just can’t see the harm in the two of you getting together. I just feel a lot of your problems would go away if you made love to her and shared a cigarette with her afterwards. You may not like my answer, but that’s the only one you’re going to get from me.
Glenda Peters sat on the couch watching her soap opera. The ashtray on the coffee table overflowed with cigarette butts as she added one more Virgina Slim filter to the mix. It was only 4:00 and she had already smoked two packs. But that was normal for her. She tore the cellophane from her third pack of the day and lit one.
She looked at the cigarette between her fingers. Her fingers were stained yellow with nicotine stains, as were her teeth. As she inhaled from the filter she listened to the sound of her lungs as they rattled from the stress. Why was she doing this to her self? Why couldn’t she quit? Smoking was killing her. What would have to happen to give her the courage to quit?
The front door pushed open and her son walked in. 20 years old and he still lives with his mother thought Glenda. She hoped he’d never leave.
“Hey Mom. How’s it going?”
“Not bad,” said Glenda. She raised the Virginia Slim to her lips but broke into a coughing spell before she could get a puff. She thumped her chest and hacked as Jimmy rushed to her side, telling her she should take a drink of water.
“These cigarettes are killing me,” she said. “I thank God every day that you never picked up the habit Honey.”
Jimmy nodded his head and sat down beside his mother on the couch. He turned toward the TV as he cornered eyed his mother as she smoked her Virginia Slim. Despite 50 years of smoking like a fiend, his mother was still beautiful. But beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
She was still wearing her nightgown, which was often her habit since she had taken disability from work three years earlier. He liked this nightgown. It was long and silky and had white lace at the collar and around the breasts and sleeves. It wasn’t exactly sexy but it looked good on his mom.
She was a short woman standing less than five feet tall. Jim guessed she weighed about 130 lbs, probably 20 pounds overweight but the woman was 62 years old. It wasn’t like she worked out or exercised. He studied the way her breasts pushed against the silk nightgown. They were huge. They sagged and they were wrinkled but that didn’t change the fact that they were huge. He used to feed from those breasts when he was a baby and he wished he could remember it.
She colored her shoulder length hair blonde and a pair of glasses sat perched on her nose. The wrinkles on her face made her look older than she was, but what she lacked in youth she more than made up for in elegance and natural beauty.
How his father must have loved her. His father had been 20 years her senior. He had died at the ripe old age of 76- a victim of lung cancer. His father’s death had scared his mother into trying to quit, but she had lasted less than a day. But she wouldn’t allow the lesson of her husband’s death to be lost on her son. She smoked like a martyr. Do as I say and not as I do.

“I love you Mom.”

Glenda smiled at her son. “I love you too,” she said. “How’d it go at the doctor’s today?”
She knew he we was seeing a psychiatrist. He had problems with depression. Glenda thought her son was depressed because he didn’t have a girl fiend. He had dated a few girls in high school, but she hadn’t liked them. They smoked cigarettes. Jimmy could do better than a girl who smoked cigarettes. She took another puff and fought the urge to cough. He had broken up with those girls because she had asked him too. Maybe this was her fault. Maybe she should have let him make his own decisions.
“OK, I guess.” Said Jim. “Dr. Fleshman said a lot of things today. As a matter of fact, we talked a lot about you.”
Glenda gave her son a curious smile as she bent forward and crushed out her cigarette in the ashtray. “Oh really? What did the two of you say about me?”

“Dr. Fleshman thinks I’m love with you,” he said.

Glenda tried to laugh but wound up coughing. “Well I hope you are,” she said. “I’m your mother. I love you more than any thing in the world.”
Jim fidgeted in his seat as his mother fumbled with her lighter. She had a little arthritis in her hand and sometimes lighting her cigarettes could be an effort. He took the lighter from her hand and lit his mother’s cigarette. “We weren’t talking about that kind of love,” he said.

“Then what kind of love were you talking about,” asked
Glenda.

“Dr. Fleshman thinks we should become lovers - boyfriend
and girlfriend.”

“That’s absurd!” said Glenda. “I’m your mother. That would be incest!”
“I know,” said Jim. “That’s what I told her. But she thinks it would be good for both us.”

“How could incest be good for us?” asked Glenda.

“Dr. Fleshman says we’re both alone. Dad’s gone and I don’t have a girl friend. We live here in the house together. She says that sex should be an honest expression of love between two people. She says we wouldn’t be hurting anybody. She also said you’re too old to get pregnant so that wouldn’t even be a consideration. You haven’t had sex since Dad died six years ago. I’ve never had sex. I’m still a virgin.”
Glenda dumped her ash and took another puff. “I don’t understand Jim. Are you saying you want to make love to me?”
Jim leaned over and kissed his mother on the cheek. “I love you,” he said.
Glenda was unnerved, not by her son’s kiss on the cheek but because he hadn’t been repulsed at the idea of incest. “I better make dinner,” she said as she put out her cigarette.
Jim was unusually quiet at dinner. He wanted to hide under a rock. How could he have told his mother about his conversation with the doctor? How could the doctor suggest such a thing? He looked down at his plate. He couldn’t look his mother in the eye.
Glenda played with her mashed potatoes as she thought about the incest conversation. She looked across the table at her son. How could a young man who looked like her son not have a girl friend? How could he still be a virgin?
What if they did do it? She thought. What if they did it only once? Would that be such a bad thing? It would be incest and incest is bad. But what if the doctor was right about sex being an expression of love? What kind of relationship is more loving than one between a mother and her son?
Her thighs began to moisten and a chill ran up her spine as she realized she was getting wet thinking about her son. She pushed her plate away and lit a cigarette.
“I smoke, she said. I smoke a lot. You wouldn’t like making love to a woman who smokes. Besides I’m 62 years old. I’m too old for you even if I wasn’t your mother.”
Jimmy looked up from his plate. “I know you smoke a lot. I like that you smoke. I couldn’t imagine you without a cigarette. It wouldn’t bother me at all. And I don’t care about your age. You look beautiful to me. I love you Mom.”
Glenda laughed through her smoke and choked back a cough. She stopped laughing when she saw the look of hurt in her son’s eyes. “I’m not laughing at you Honey. I’m just laughing at the idea of making love to a 20-year-old guy. I’ve never been with any one except your father and he was 76 when he died.” She smiled at her son as she rubbed her ash around the circumference of the ashtray. “Besides it being incest and all, I just don’t think I should be the one to take your virginity. It should be someone your age. Someone that you really care about and love.”
“I love you Mom. I don’t want any one else. I want you to be the one.”
Another chill started in her groin and raced up her spine. “How do you think we should do this?” she asked. I don’t want to smoke in your room. Maybe we should go to my room.”
Glenda picked up her cigarettes and led her son down the hall to her bedroom. She pulled down the covers as her son undressed and dropped his clothes in a pile beside the bed. She stared at his nakedness. This was her son she told her self and he was beautiful. We’re not hurting anyone she told her self as she climbed between the sheets beside her son.
“Do you mind if I turn on the TV?” she asked as she picked the remote off her nightstand. “I’m a little nervous. I think it would help to have it on.”
Jim smiled at his mother and said OK. He couldn’t get over the fact that he was in his parent’s bed with his mother. He was naked between the sheets and his erection was protruding. His mother began to light a cigarette.
He stopped her and took the lighter from her hand. “Let me do it,” he said as he brought the lighter to life and offered the flame to his mother who respectfully accepted it.
Glenda felt tingly as she inhaled the smoke deep inside her lungs. She felt soft lips brush against her cheek. Surprised, she turned to face her son, forgetting the lung full of smoke that resided in her chest. She exhaled on her son, covering him in a cloud of thick smoke. She opened her mouth to apologize but caught Jim’s tongue instead.
She pressed her lips against his and explored his mouth with her tongue. Years of smoking had dulled her sense of taste but not her sense of touch. Whether he knew it or not, her son was a marvelous kisser and she was lost in his kiss. She groaned as she felt her breast succumb to Jimmy’s touch. Her nipples hardened and juices ran between her thighs.
He had kissed smokers before. But those girls from high school were barely out of the closet. Perhaps they smoked a couple cigarettes a day. His mother smoked 60 cigarettes a day. There was no comparison. He breathed in her foul smelling breath, which tasted so sweet to him. He ran his tongue across her mother’s tar covered teeth and thought of what must lie beneath. 50 years of smoking had taken a toll on her mother’s health. What must her lungs look like? He wondered as he kissed her deeper and squeezed her saggy breasts.

He moved his hand down her breast and tried to spread her
thighs.

“Be careful,” said his mother. “I have a lit cigarette. I don’t want you to burn your self.”
Jim paused long enough for his mother to put out her cigarette. She positioned her pillow and he did the same and then they laid down together and embraced. He kissed his mother passionately as he fingered her wet clitoris. Glenda fought for breath as she returned her son’s kisses and fondled his penis. It was larger than her husband’s and much firmer. The fact that this was her 20-year-old’s son penis in her hand was not lost on her. She gave it a tight squeeze and pulled her son on top of her.
Jim was now on top of his mother, face to face with her. His penis loomed large between her thighs as he struggled to find her vagina. Realizing this was indeed her son’s first time, Glenda took her son’s penis and guided it home. He entered her and grimaced with delight as his mother whimpered in joy.
So this is what it feels like thought Jim as he marveled at the pleasure. Glenda ground her hips into her son’s and together they found their rhythm. He didn’t want it to end. If only he could live the rest of his life inside his mother.
He felt so good inside her. If she were ever to have an orgasm this would be the time. The alternative was unthinkable. She thought of her dead husband as she humped her son. She had loved him but she had never had an orgasm when they made love. He always had to do her with his hand, while she was smoking. “Please God, let me come,” she prayed.
She looked up in time to see the look on her son’s face as he exploded inside her. She felt his hot sperm as it bounced against the walls of her vagina. She was happy for him. He fell to her side and collapsed on the pillow. Her thighs were sticky with her son’s semen and she wiped it away with a Kleenex from the nightstand. Then she wiped off her with a fresh Kleenex.
When she had finished wiping him off she lit a cigarette and leaned back against her pillow. Jim lay on his side and watched his mother smoke. He wondered what it felt like to smoke after sex. He wanted to ask his mother for a puff but fought back the urge. He wouldn’t ruin this moment for any thing.

His mother smiled at him though her exhale and asked him
how he felt.

“I feel great Mom. It was wonderful. Thank you.”
Glenda smiled at her son and took another deep puff. She had been so close to orgasm. And she was frustrated. Should she tell him what she needed?
“Your father and I used to share a cigarette after we made love. And then afterwards, he stroke me with his fingers while I smoked until I had my orgasm. There. She had said it. She studied her son’s face for signs of disgust but only saw love and curiosity.

“You didn’t have an orgasm, did you?” he asked.

“Its not your fault,” said Glenda. I know it sounds sick, but I need to be smoking while it happens. When your father was younger, he’d give me oral sex while I smoked. That was so wonderful.” She blushed. She shouldn’t be talking about such things with her son.
Jimmy pulled him self up on his pillows. “You miss Dad don’t you.”
Glenda sniffed back a tear and took another puff. “Yeah I do, but being with you was wonderful. I really enjoyed it. It just seems so strange, you know.”
“I know what you mean,” said Jimmy. “I’d like to share a cigarette with you, like you used to do with Dad.”
Glenda laughed and then she coughed and then she hacked up something nasty, which she spit into an empty Pepsi can. “You don’t smoke,” she said.
“I know,” lied Jimmy. “It’s just that you look so peaceful and happy smoking your cigarette right now. I don’t how to explain it but it would seem almost romantic if I shared a cigarette with you.”
“You sound like your father,” said Glenda. “He’d roll over in his grave if he saw us now. Do you really want to try a puff?” she asked as she held out her cigarette.
Jimmy didn’t take it. Instead he wrapped his lips around the filter and smoked from his mother’s hand. He inhaled deeply and the smoke danced in his lungs. Oh yes, he thought. Smoking after sex is wonderful indeed.”
“You didn’t cough,” said Glenda as she watched her son exhale. “Are you smoking Honey?”
Jimmy didn’t answer. He positioned his left arm behind his mother’s back and found her clitoris with his right hand. He found her spot and Glenda threw her head back and moaned. Instinctively she crushed out her cigarette and lit another. She told her son how good he was making her feel and begged him not to stop. Jimmy watched his mother as she smoked like a locomotive lumbering down the tracks. He felt her quiver as she took a deep inhale and held it. His mother came on his hand. She clenched the cigarette between her lips and grabbed her son tight.
Jimmy woke up alone in his mother’s bed. He saw a half pack of Virginia Slims laying on his mother’s nightstand next to a lighter. He needed a cigarette bad and was willing to risk getting caught. Besides, after last night, maybe she’d be OK with it.
He finished the cigarette and put it out in his mother’s ashtray. He picked up his clothes beside the bed and pulled up his underwear and threw on the shirt.
His mother was standing behind the counter pouring two cups of coffee with a cigarette clenched between her teeth. She was wearing the silk morning coat that matched her nightgown.
“Good morning,” she said as the cigarette bobbed up and down between her lips. “Did you sleep well?”
“I slept great,” said Jim. “How about you.”
Glenda coughed in her coffee and thumped her chest. “Me too,” she said, as she handed her son a cup.

Jim saw the look of confusion in his mother’s eyes and he
knew she was probably feeling guilty about their night
together.

He put his cup of coffee down on the counter and took his mother’s cup and placed it beside his. Then he hugged her and she hugged him back. As he hugged her, he squeezed the cheeks of her ass in his hands. “I love you,” he whispered in her ear. And then he kissed her the way a son doesn’t kiss his mother. He kissed her as her lover and she kissed him back.
His mother was softly crying and he wiped away her tear with his finger. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“I was so afraid you’d hate me when you woke up. And I didn’t know how I could go on being just your mother after what we did. You made me feel so good last night Jim.”
    
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