Mom is Sadie Hawkins

Mom is Sadie Hawkins

(or Mom Saves the Day … er … Night)

By Robert Lubrican

Original Edition

License Notes

This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people.

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Otherwise, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient.

Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Rights to cover art purchased at iStock.com

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Table of Contents

Chapters: One | Two | Three | Epilogue

 

Foreword

This story was inspired by a story by silkstockingslover, who wrote a story in which a mother helped her son do a surrogate prom night. It gave me the idea to take care of Sadie Hawkins Day.

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Chapter One

Bobby wasn't the least bit surprised when this year's Sadie Hawkins Dance was cancelled, but he was nevertheless disappointed. His girlfriend, Robin, had wanted to take him. On the one hand he liked spending time with Robin. They had lived three doors down from each other since he was eight and they had played together and become best friends over the years. When both of them moaned and groaned about not having boy and girl friends, she suggested they just be each other's and he had agreed. What had started as an agreement between buddies turned into an actual romance when they were fourteen. Now, in high school, he was looking forward to a night with her. On the other hand, Robin had upped the ante when she said because it was a girl's night to make decisions, she had decided she would have him take her virginity after the dance. That terrified him, at least a little bit, because he had no idea how to proceed. They had done lots of things on dates, but not gone all the way. He had been excited (and stiff) when she said that and was looking forward to the night.

But alas, Covid-19 reared its ugly head and, in a panic (or, perhaps because somebody had ordered them to), the school had closed.

And instead of her at least being available to do 'Sadie Hawkins things' (hint hint) without the actual Sadie Hawkins dance, Robin had gone to the lake with her dad, where the great outdoors gave them plenty of room for having fun without worrying about social distancing. That left Bobby home alone with his mom. Not that that was entirely a bad thing. He loved his mom, and it had only been the two of them since his dad had been killed in action in Afghanistan, when Bobby was only three, so being stuck quarantined with her wasn't much different than the existence he had already been living with her for as much of his life he could remember. Besides, he was mostly an introvert, and would rather be quietly at home than out at a party or school event.

"So I have an idea," said his mother Helen - who felt she was way too young to be facing empty nest syndrome at her tender age of 36.

"What's that?" Bobby asked, setting down a book from the upcoming fall's college syllabus: War and Peace, which was ridiculously long, and had a large cast of people, all with unpronounceable and quickly forgettable names.

"The two of us can have a Sadie Hawkins Dance together at home," Helen said. "I'm a girl so I can invite you. We'll get all dressed up and dance and have fun and give Covid the finger."

Bobby looked at his mother. She was a psychologist and she still cared for a full schedule of clients, although now she did it from home, using Skype or video calls, and emailing prescriptions to pharmacies. She still dressed up for work as if she was leaving the house, although she could have been naked below the waist and her clients would never know. Granted, he would know, but their level of modesty had always been relaxed. That had started when he was little. He didn't understand when his father had died in Afghanistan. Helen was going to college at the time, supported by her soldier husband. When he died, her benefits as a survivor took over helping with her education. Having government health care and financial benefits had let her get through her undergraduate education by the time she was twenty-three, and she started a program that allowed her to earn her PsyD by the time she was thirty-two. She had to work during those years, to get by and Bobby spent a lot of time in the university child care center.

At home, though, his mother was relaxed and she ran around in very little. She did not date and her entire world was work, school and Bobby. When she started her professional career as a clinical psychologist they stayed in the same house and her relaxed attitude about her dress didn't change. The only visitor to the house was Robin, and she was a girl, so wearing just a bra and panties was still acceptable, especially since Robin, by then, was like the daughter her husband had never been able to give her.

So Bobby was quite used to seeing his mother in a bra, panties, and her thigh highs, as she was getting ready to get dressed and do a session. He had started reacting to this roughly when he entered puberty, but that also seemed normal and not at all unusual, by this point in his life. Helen was a very pretty woman whose hour-glass shape was emphasized by large, soft breasts, a narrow waist, and wide hips. When she sat at her desk in front of the camera her breasts made her look heavy. If you looked at her face and neck, though, you realized she just had huge jugs. A lot of the men she worked with looked forward to their appointments with her just so they could salivate over the cleavage and size of her tits.

Helen knew this happened, of course. She'd been practicing for four years. But she didn't worry about it. Most of the men listened to her and worked on getting better. Her reputation was what got her new clients and she always dressed up for all of them.

That meant she dressed up for Bobby, too, and if he happened to see her in her room in just her undies, then so much the better. He'd even gotten a few glimpses of her naked tits, but only very briefly. As far as he was concerned, she was the perfect woman, with a great ass and gorgeous legs to go along with her heavy milk jugs.

"So, how would that work?" he asked.

"Come with me to my bedroom and I'll show you," Helen said.

Those were, verbatim, the very words Bobby had fantasized hearing many, many times, from various women and girls. He really liked Robin of course, maybe even a lot, but he also had a secret crush on his Geometry teacher Miss Parker. And he dreamed of fucking Tiffany, the blonde-haired, blue-eyed cheerleader... who resembled his mother.

But his greatest fantasy, just like many other young men, was to bone his mother. He had been stunned when he found stories about incest on the web and forums where people chatted about their fantasies or even what they claimed were the realities of having sex with their mothers. Of course he assumed most of these so-called true life episodes were lies ... though some of the pictures looked real. He had stared at many pictures of a woman with a boy who was obviously under the age of 18, doing things that made his prick stiff. He saw women sucking their son's cock and he saw the same cock buried in the woman's pussy. The ones he liked the most also had pictures of the woman with her mouth full of spooge, or thick, white stuff oozing from her just-fucked pussy.

It inevitably led to scenes in his imagination in which he had slept with his own mother many times.

"Okay," he said, curious to know what she intended.

Helen didn't reflect on it about it, but down deep she had some feelings for her son that she would have told her patients were inappropriate. They weren't overt. She had always held his hand when they walked, at least until he was twelve and it was obvious he felt like that made him look babyish. She hadn't held his hand out of some perverted desire. It was simply touch, touch she missed after her husband died. It provided her with a natural, intimate connection between her and her son.

Bobby had been conflicted when he pulled away from her hand as he entered puberty. He loved holding her hand, but he felt like people would call him a freak if he "clung to his mommy like a little boy." He compensated for this by hugging her a lot when they were at home. He frequently said, "I love you, Mom," as he pulled her soft mams against his chest. She always squeezed him hard and said she loved him, too. He had to be careful, though, because when he hugged her like that he got a boner and he didn't want her to know that.

Reaching her room, Helen said, pointing to the tux laid out on her bed, "Try this on."

"You rented a tux?" Bobby asked, surprised to see one in their house.

"No, it was your father's," she explained, pointing at the picture on her wall of their wedding day, where his dad was wearing the same exact tux.

"Wow," Bobby said, as he looked at the tux.

"You're about the same size as he was, and just as handsome. I think it will fit you," Helen said.

"Okay," Bobby nodded, appeasing his mother.

"I'll give you a few minutes to try it on while I start getting dinner ready," Helen said. "Call me when you're ready to model it for me."

"Okay," Bobby nodded. Once the door was closed, he got undressed and put it on. He didn't have a proper dress shirt on hand to go with it, but the pants and jacket fit him perfectly. He opened the door and called downstairs, "Mom!"

Helen returned a moment later and smiled warmly, her heart beating a bit faster as she gushed, "You look just like your father!"

"I do?" he asked, only having pictures to remember his father by.

"So much," she nodded, amazed at the resemblance.

Bobby looked into the full mirror on his mother's bedroom wall. He couldn't believe how different he looked in this tux. Somehow it made him look taller; more handsome, in the same way he always thought a pair of expensive nylons made a girl look hotter.

"Your dad would be so proud of you," Helen said, admiring her son. She was so proud of him. He had worked hard in high school, and killed the SAT. As a result, he had been offered scholarships to just about every major school in the country. He had also performed the man's work at home. He was great with tools just like his dad, and had become a good cook, preparing most of their dinners, because of his mom's erratic work schedule... which had become even more intensely erratic with this whole Covid-19 crap taking over the world.

"Think so?" Bobby asked. His mother didn't talk about his dad very often.

"Oh honey," Helen said, coming over and giving him a tit-crushing hug. "You know he would be amazed at how well you've turned out."

"That's mainly because of you," Bobby complimented back, loving the feel of her soft breasts against his chest. His cock, which had deflated, was back up to full mast in a heartbeat. He knew his mom felt insecure about her parenting skills at times, and he also knew reassuring her was a good idea.

"Oh honey, I love you so much," she said, tears beginning to roll down her face upon remembering he'd be leaving home in a few months.

"I love you too, Mom," he replied, feeling a little guilty that he so loved feeling her big boobs against his body, and because his cock was so fucking hard right now. Their balance swayed and his cock pressed against her leg.

Helen was surprised to feel what was obviously her son's erect penis against her thigh. She wasn't sure how to react to that. Her mind flitted in several directions. Was he hard because of the hug? Was it possible he was hard because of her? Or, was he simply a normal eighteen-year-old boy who was hard most of the time anyway? What she did not concentrate on was that feeling his erection against her was not objectionable in any way.

As these things cycled through her mind she kept the clinch and then released her son, the hug having continued much longer than any she'd given him since he'd been a young boy. She chalked it up to feeling very emotional because seeing him in his dad's tux made it obvious her son was turning into a man, and because in this tux he struck such a striking resemblance to the only man she'd ever loved. At this moment, for the first time ever, she was seeing her son as a man, and not a boy in high school.

Bobby didn't understand what he saw in her eyes, but he definitely saw something, so he asked, "Are you okay?"

Helen glanced down to see how obvious it was that her son did indeed have an erection and her mind was wary, as she answered, "It's just sometimes I still miss your dad, and I just remembered that you'll be gone pretty soon, too."

Her tears had distracted him from the state of his cock and he didn't see her looking at it.

"Oh, Mom," Bobby said, thinking about how it had been just the two of them for a long, long time. "Maybe I should find a school closer to home."

"No, no, no," Helen said, wiping her tears and feeling guilty for making her son feel bad. "You've worked way too hard not to go to Harvard like you've always dreamed of."

"That's all well and good, and I have always hoped I could go there, but I hate the idea of leaving you here all alone," Bobby said.

That was true. For his entire life, all he he'd known was living alone with his mom, and conversely, that was all she had been doing for fifteen years since his father died, as well.

"To tell you the truth, I hate it too," Helen admitted. "But you're a big boy and I'm a big girl. We'll figure it out." She wiped a few tears from her eyes. "But let's not dwell on that. Let's plan our 2020 stay-at-home Sadie Hawkins night."

"I'm not trying to be argumentative, or anything," Bobby said, "but isn't Sadie Hawkins about hillbillies? I don't think hillbillies wear tuxedos."

"Your analytical mind is correct, as usual," said Helen. "I do not, however, have a blouse with holes in it, or a tattered skirt, or hobnailed boots to stomp on your feet with at the dance so you won't be able to outrun me during the race on the day after the dance."

"Obviously there is more to this Sadie Hawkins thing than I was aware of," said Bobby. "I didn't know about a race, but I wouldn't have tried to outrun Robin anyway. I wouldn't want to outrun you, either, for that matter."

Bobby had just spoken what came to his mind without actually thinking about it, first. When he realized he had put Robin and his mother on the same plane, in terms of not wanting to escape from them, the reason he wouldn't want to escape from them made his face get hot. He had basically just admitted to his own mother that … well, he wasn't sure what he'd admitted, but he knew it was bad.

Helen heard every word just as his unconscious mind had meant it. Her attitude wasn't quite what Bobby was afraid of. She just thought he was a sweetheart and she felt lucky that he loved her. A lot of boys his age tried hard not to get as much distance from their parents as possible.

"I don't know what Robin had in mind for after she 'caught' you, but in my case, you'd have to endure a hug and a kiss. You can relax, though. There won't be a race the next day. What would people think if they saw me chasing you down the street with a rolling pin in my hand? At any rate, the tuxedo isn't because I think that's what a man in Mr. Capp's comic strip would wear. As I said, I don't have an outfit that matches the theme. And I don't get a chance to get all dolled up very often, so I'm going to use this as an excuse to do so. We're going to be dressed as the wealthiest hillbillies in town."

She hadn't scolded him for saying he would let her catch him, which emboldened him a little.

"I'll wear the tux, but the image of you as you described it sounds pretty good. You have great legs and a ragged skirt would show them off as you chased me."

"Tee hee," said Helen, drolly. At the same time his honest compliment made her feel good. "I'll try to make sure I have rags to wear next year."

She was teasing, but what she was teasing about ran deep in Bobby's emotions.

"Okay," he agreed. He tried to sound excited, but wasn't, really. There was no way their festivities would include what he had previously been planning ... to lose his virginity with Robin. But he knew his mom wanted to do this for him, so for her sake, he'd put on his big boy tux tomorrow evening and show his sweet mom the best time he could.

"Okay," she nodded. "Tomorrow night was going to be the dance. We'll both get dolled up, dine on a delivered dinner from Pietro's. I know how much you like Italian, right? Pietro's is the best restaurant in town and he's staying afloat by delivering meals. We'll have a dance or two together and maybe even take some pictures. We'll do anything you want."

'What I want … no would love … would be to lose my virginity to you,' he thought to himself. He was suddenly aware of his hard cock again and turned so she couldn't see it. "That sounds great, Mom."

"Sweet," she said, a word that had long fallen out of popularity with her peers. It was still his mother's go-to word and it always made him smile.

"Yes, Mom, saccharine sweet," he teased, something he did every time she said it.

"Teasing your old mother isn't very sweet," she objected mildly.

"You're not old, Mom," he pointed out the obvious. "There are women at your age who are just starting to have kids."

"Maybe that's true, but I still feel old," she sighed.

"Well, you're not," Bobby said. "And I don't want to hear any more about it, unless you're fishing for compliments; in which case I have plenty to choose from. I know tons of men have hit on you. The fact that you refused to go out with any of them doesn't change the fact that they all think you're a MILF." He blinked. He hadn't meant to say that. "I mean you're hot," he amended.

Helen was familiar with the term but hearing her son use it changed the dynamic of the concept entirely. Still, she was sure it was just another descriptive word to him and his friends. She was sure it didn't apply to her.

"Fine." She smiled and then posed playfully, "Then I'm a hot babe."

"You're joking, but I hope you know that all the guys in the classes you substitute in think you really are hot," Bobby said. On many occasions he'd seen guys checking out her figure when she substituted in psychology at school. Or had when they all still went to school.

"I think you're exaggerating," Helen said, but flattered he thought so. Truth was, she had been oblivious to men ever since Sam's passing, focusing on just her work and her son. She had missed the intimacy her husband had shared with her, but she could never try to replace that with another man. She felt like he was always watching.

"Mom," Bobby said, noticing his mom was a bit distracted. On impulse he decided to cross a line he likely shouldn't cross, yet felt the need to do something excessive to make his mother feel better. "Please don't be offended by this, but if you weren't my mother, I'd be completely in lust with you."

"Really?" Helen asked, flattered even more by her son's words, and not interpreting them in the inappropriate way he'd meant them.

"Mom, you're incredibly sexy," Bobby added, before figuring he may as well throw his next thought out there too, "plus, unlike all my classmates, I get to see you before you put your dresses on."

Now she pinned him with her eyes.

"Bobby, you're not supposed to peek at a woman when she's getting dressed."

"Oh, give me a break," he said, laughing. "You walk around half dressed until five minutes before you go online with a client. I'm fully aware of how lucky I am to get to see your fantastic legs."

"My legs? What's fantastic about my legs?" she asked.

"When you have on a garter belt and thigh high hose, you could compete with any Playboy Bunny there ever was."

She felt a ball of heat suddenly expand in her belly, right behind the flesh on her flat abdomen. His compliment was genuine and it pleased her very much.

"Well, I try to stay in shape," she said.

"Believe me, Mom," he said, feeling like maybe he was on a roll, "you've got shape in spades."

"So you like me in nylons? Your father always loved me to wear them. You must have gotten that gene from him. I make enough now to buy silk stockings, and I think they're much nicer."

Helen was well aware, as a psychiatrist, that some sons become sexually aroused by their mothers. She disagreed with Freud that this was a bad thing. If handled appropriately, a close relationship like that could be transferred to a wife, later in life, and benefit the wife a great deal. She had, in fact, helped more than one mother and son work through the issues and become so close that it would last a lifetime.

She had not, however, ever applied any of this thought to Bobby until this very moment.

"I've kept wearing thigh highs in his memory," she said. "If you appreciate them, then now I have another reason to wear them."

"So it's like father, like son? If I check out your legs, I'm just honoring my dad's memory?" Bobby was only half joking. His cock was so hard now it hurt and he kept turned in such a way that he hoped she didn't see it.

"There is no one I'd rather you be like, Bobby," she said, her voice a little husky.

"And there is no one I'd rather have for a mother, not even some hot movie star," Bobby said, his dick dying for attention.

"I'm going to finish making dinner, and then while we eat, let's watch Feud," she said.

"Sounds good," Bobby nodded, that being his favorite half hour every night. That was partly because he really enjoyed Steve Harvey's humor and partly because they competed at home, trying to see who got the high-scoring answers before the contestants did. It had the enjoyable side effect of an unbroken half hour of his getting to stare at his mom's sexy body while it was casually dressed, especially during commercials.

Twenty-five minutes later they were eating dinner, guessing answers, and Bobby was slyly admiring his mom's body.

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Helen had never paid any special attention to her son while they watched TV like this. Now she realized that the woman hidden deep in her had recognized his interest before. It had just been repressed. It irked her, mildly, because she recognized that kind of repression in her patients routinely. In others, she had always just focused on understanding their thoughts, based on what clues they gave her. Bobby had given her clues. She just hadn't paid attention to them. Tonight, though, she couldn't help but view her son in a different way. For one, she noticed he was constantly admiring her body, not just from time to time, like she had thought. For two, she now couldn't stop noticing the many similarities between his father and him. The slightly crooked smile, the dimples, his constant glances at her, the affectionate look in his eyes, all announced that he was interested in her as a man is interested in a woman … as her husband used to be interested in her. Glancing at him now she realized he looked horny, just like her husband had looked horny sometimes. The resemblance was eerie. She couldn't explain it, but more than once she thought she was looking at her husband instead of her son.

Usually his mother was so focused on the game that she was completely oblivious to his constant glances and stares. But this evening, every time his gaze raked over her she was what could only be described as perplexed. Was this how those mothers and sons she had worked with who fell in love with each other felt?

For both of them it became a strange game of cat and mouse, although neither quite realized they were playing it. Bobby would get caught admiring his mom's breasts, so he'd look away. Helen would be looking at her son instead of watching the show, and then when his head began turning her way again, she would turn away.

What astonished Helen the most, however, was that she found herself liking it very much that her son was a little horny for her. She knew how that scenario could cause real problems in a family, particularly when there was a father and husband also present. When a son and his father competed for the woman married to one of them, the results could be tragic. A single mother, on the other hand, just had to come to terms with her son's puppy love and work through that until they were close, but not too close.

She did not feel like she and Bobby were too close. Oddly, she was peculiarly aware that she wasn't sure they could be too close. They loved each other. She didn't want another man. Bobby would go to college and be chased by countless hungry girls who recognized his stellar virtues. If, in the meantime, he and his mother shared some especially close hugs, what was the harm? She admitted to herself that, when she masturbated later that night, it was likely she'd think of him, but that was also harmless, because he and his father were inextricably joined in her psyche and passions.

She relaxed her position without conscious thought and spread her legs a little. Then, with a start, she realized what she was doing. She was wearing her spandex workout pants and she knew they showed her camel toe. She had never thought about how that might affect her son … her normal, eighteen-year-old son.

Now, perhaps, a little experiment was in order.

She stretched, lifting her arms above her head, which lifted her breasts and made them jut, as she slid her ass to the edge of the couch cushion, which made her loins lift and her camel toe easy to see. She used her peripheral vision to see what Bobby did … or didn't do.

He stared, and adjusted what was obviously another erection in his pants.

She knew she was teasing him and that it was wrong to do that, but at the same time she felt desired in a way that had been absent from her life since her soulmate had died. Suddenly she realized she was antsy herself, and a little horny.

Bobby was confused by his mother's reactions, and by her slightly flushed cheeks.

Helen was confused by her own reactions, and by the way that, tonight, she was constantly seeing her late husband in her son, who was very alive indeed.

Later that night Bobby jerked off while reading erotic Mom and Son stories, while unbeknownst to him, his mother masturbated while imagining her husband was still alive, and he was fucking her like he had all those years ago: hard, rough, deep... although as she came, three fingers in her pussy, rubbing her clit hard, it was her son's face that popped into her head!

Bobby went to sleep, curious about what his mom would look like tomorrow, all dolled up... her very words.

Helen went to sleep psychoanalyzing herself. Was it possible she and Bobby could have a healthy, very close relationship like those she had helped work?

Or did she want more … something forbidden?

She knew of at least five of her patients who had confessed to having a sexual relationship with their sons.

And she knew from interviewing both participants that in three of those relationships, nobody was being hurt. The other two had involved selfish feelings, rather than actions based on love, and she had worked with those pairs to bring their sexual behavior to a halt. Both of those had worked out, but only after the boy had gone off to college or gotten married.

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The next afternoon, Helen painted her fingernails and toenails red for the first time since the quarantine had begun. She applied her make-up with great care. She put on some glossy, bright red lipstick. As the day waned and the "Sadie Hawkins dance" got closer, she decided to go the extra mile with her undergarments. She didn't plan to try and seduce her son, but she wore a fancy garter-belt, with satin bowties on it and actual silk stockings for the first time in over a year because it made her feel sexy. And she hadn't felt sexy for years. She looked at the dress she planned to wear.