The Life Of John Smith - S01 E07

2 days ago

The Life Of John Smith - S01 E07

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 7

Three weeks later she had me drive to the State Patrol Office, because back then it was the State Patrol who tested and issued licenses. When the patrolman asked to see my learners permit, mother said, "He learned without one."

He looked at her and said, "He cannot take the driver's test without a valid learners permit."

"Then give him one," she said.

"He has to pass the written test before he can get a learners permit" the patrolman said.

"Things have really changed. Give him the written test," she said.

"He should study before taking the test," he said.

"Give him the test," she said.

The patrolman looked to me with a questioning look and asked, You ready for the test?"

"Sure," I said. I figured if I did not agree with mother it would be hard to live with her.

I took the written test and passed it. Mother purchased my learner's permit and I then took my driver's test and passed it. Mother's parting words to the patrolman were, "I only started teaching him a few days ago. See what a good teacher I am."

On the way home, she said, "From now on, on Friday you will take me to work in the morning and use the car to drive to school. Then you will pick me up after work. Okay?"

"Okay," I said, realizing she had done this so that she might be able to avoid drinking.

The next Friday when I picked her up after work, she decided we would go out to dinner. We went home and dressed in our best clothes. We went to a very nice place to eat. The waiter asked mother if she wanted anything from the bar. She said something that sounded like, "A Manhattan." Whatever it was it looked like a tall glass of coke. She had four of those drinks with dinner. On the way to the car she put her arm around me and said, "I'm sure glad you are driving home."

I assisted her into the car on the passenger's side and before I got behind the wheel she appeared to have passed out or gone to sleep. Once we arrived home, I could not wake her. I contemplated just leaving her in the car, but I said to myself she had been so nice to me and she had taken me out to dinner. Maybe next time I can persuade her not to drink. I half carried, and she half walked to her bedroom. When she flopped down on her bed she said, "Undress me, please."

I did, I took all her clothes off and was about to cover her when she sald, "I got to pee, please help me to the bathroom." As I raised her from her bed totally naked, one of my hands gripped a breast accidentally. She made a little moaning sound but said nothing else. She held on to my hand while she sat on the toilet and peed and peed. She wiped herself. On the way back to her room she said, "I should not drink." As I covered her in her bed, she gripped both my hands and said, "Give your mom a good night kiss." I bent down to kiss her on the cheek. She turned, causing us to kiss briefly on the lips. She pulled me into a hug. By now I was laying half on my naked mother. She whispered in my ear, "I wish you could make love to me." I managed to raise up and leave her room.

In my room later, I wondered if she had really meant she wanted to have sex with me. I beat off while thinking of sticking my dick in her pussy. I kept telling myself I was a coward for not staying and making love to her.

The arrangement of me driving the car on Friday seemed to do the trick of keeping her from stopping to have a drink and when we went out to dinner we never went to restaurants where hard drinks were served. She must have gone at least four months without a drink,

Winter came, and her hours were once again cut back. I had to move to her room because the heat was turned off to my room. The events of this past year made me so much more aware of my mother. It seemed that during our sleep we more often invaded each other's space. I would awake either touching her or she would be touching me with a hand or foot, a knee or a butt. Or she might spoon behind me with an arm over me drawing me to her, or

I might spoon behind her with (horrors of horrors) a hard-on pressing against her. I would always move away, sometimes to the very edge of the bed. I do not know if she ever noticed. She never said anything. I do know it was beginning to bother me in a lot of different ways.

One day at school while listening to an English teacher use the word "touch" my mind snapped to a remembrance of that morning when I was awakened with my mother's hand on my bare stomach just an inch or less from my erection. I wondered how long it would be before one of us in our sleep touched the privates of the other. What would happen then? Would she jack me off? Would I diddle her? Would my dick slip into her... the bell rang pulling me out of my reverie. I had an erection and I was out of breath. All my classmates had left the room when the teacher asked if was alright. "Yes, fine," said as attempted to stand and at the same time cover my hard-on with my books. I noted the teacher's smirk as she looked at the bulge in my trousers.

On another occasion as I was reading in class I nearly dropped off to sleep. As I shook myself awake, I remembered how I had awakened during the night and had been afraid to go back to sleep. On that occasion I had been dreaming I was with Shirley and instead of our mutual sixty-nine, she was encouraging me to stick my dick in her pussy. I awakened just as I was thrusting against my mother's rear. I don't know how many thrusts had happened, but I was just about to bust one out. I jumped out of bed, gripping my cock in my hand, and ran for the bathroom. I knew that something unforgivable was about to happen if I continued to have to sleep in her bed.

I tried to jack-off every morning, when I got home from school, and before I went to bed at night. If I awoke during the night I would often go to the bathroom to jack-off. I figured that if I could keep the pressure off, I might survive to spring. But it seerned like the more I did the more I would wake on the verge of a wet dream. The more this happened the more sleep I lost.

I tried going to bed earlier and the number of wet dreams increased. One night when I went to bed earlier, I was awakened by mother's hand stroking my thigh and hours later with my hand just below her breast. Both times I had gone to the bathroom to ejaculate. As I sat in algebra class the next day going over in my mind the events the night before, I was sure I was not going to survive the strain, when I was confronted by the teacher telling me was supposed to sleep at night and not in his class. I was told by him to come to his classroom after school. There I was again forced to stay awake and listed to him drone on about staying awake in his class. The result was that I did not get home in time to jack-off before mother got home from work.