"Stop fidgeting you're going to ruin it!" Your mother notices you pulling at the hem of your graduation robe and slaps your hand away with a gentle swipe. Your hands fall to your sides with a jerk ruffling the cheap, dark-green fabric.

"Ouch!" You protest in a whispered yell before being silenced by the look on your mother's face. Her cocked brow and ruby red smirk let you know exactly how pathetic you sound right now. Her features are feminine and yet sharp, her eyes a deep azure behind squared, black frames that give her a look both intimidating and attractive which her hair, tied into a tight, chinese style bun with a black pencil, perfectly compliments. She stands over you, already taller than you by two inches without the sexy but conservative heels she regularly wears, in the empty classroom you commandeered to put on your robes over your best clothes. I suppose I got my height from dad, you think. Wasn't leaving mom in the lurch bad enough, did he have to fuck me like this too?

Honestly you can't understand what your father was thinking when he disappeared on your mother shortly after finding out he'd gotten her pregnant with you. They were both very young so as you approached adulthood, your mother was just reaching her mid thirties. Puberty, as it often does, forced you to realize just how beautiful she is with her voluptuous, natural breasts in perfect proportion to her almost Amazonian frame which is tight and toned from many long hours in the gym. MILF doesn't begin to cover it. Everywhere she walks her curvaceous hips sway to and fro above her long, enchanting legs almost hypnotizing you and of course every other boy in your school. You suppose fatherhood must've been something he wasn't prepared for, but if there was anyone to rise to the occasion for, it was her.

Her look in combination with your own constant, hormone-fueled lust cause you to blush and you look down, ashamed. Your eyes slide down to her outfit for a moment. She's wearing a black skirt and sheer, black stockings that end in bright, glossy red heels that match her silky, white and red polka dot blouse tucked neatly into her skirt. The ensemble is completed by nails painted glossy white, a set of gold earrings and bracelets, with a small but well set ruby, dangling from a chain around her neck just above her cleavage that peeks ever so slightly above the first button. You find time to appreciate the contrast between the conservative nature of the outfit that almost completely covers her, and the bright passionate reds she's chosen that can't help but bring all eyes toward her before she pulls you in close, your head coming to rest upon her pillowy breast. Warmth washes over you as you accept her comfort despite your fervent prayers that you don't get a boner. "Aww baby," she coos. "What's wrong sweetheart? Why are you so tense? You just walk across the stage and get your picture taken. It'll be over before you know it!"

"That's not it Mom!" You say quickly. You don't particularly like big public events like this but you're not so anxious it causes a problem. What worries you is the news you got this morning that Chris, your old school bully, is back in town.

It's been years since you've seen him. He's four years older than you and you didn't ever have any classes together and yet somehow he settled on you as his favorite victim. All through middle school he made your life hell. Even when he went on to highschool before you, he managed to remember to come find you after school. He's beat you, swirled you, robbed you, and humiliated you utilizing every time tested technique available to the discerning schoolyard sadist. You never had a chance once he picked you out. You and your few friends were never particularly big or strong, unlike Chris who spent most of his time not spent slinging pot or tormenting you in the gym training for the varsity wrestling team.

At some point, in the beginning of your first year of highschool and Chris's fourth, you simply couldn't take it anymore and decided to act. You waited until you could catch him in a compromising position. You got some photos of him dealing behind the school dumpsters and turned them in anonymously but he's not that dumb, he knew who gave him up when they came to search his locker and found his stash. He was taken out of school in cuffs in front of everyone. As he walked by you, the last time you saw one another, he seemed to tower over you much more than usual. The look on his face was harrowing. It wasn't hate, it wasn't rage really either, or at least not just that. It was more like determination. Whatever happened to him, whenever he got out of this, he was going to make you pay and he was going to enjoy it.

Your mother senses your thoughts in the way only a parent can. "It's about him, isn't it?" She says, squeezing you tighter. You just nod your head without breaking the hug, sliding your cheek along the soft fabric of her top. You always feel so safe with her. In her arms, nothing can get you. "Don't worry baby," she continues to try to comfort you. "It was a long time ago and he's out on parole. He won't risk doing anything crazy and they must've let him out because he's shown real change."

"C'mon Mom! It's Chris! 'Crazy' is like his middle name." You let it out. You just need to vent a little. "He's probably gonna kill me! And I'm just so worried he might hurt you too! I wish I was bigger and stronger and didn't have to rat him out like that, but it was all just too much and... and..." Between the news and your graduation and just everything, you don't know how to feel. You begin to sob lightly as your mother rubs your back.

"Shhh. It's ok baby. Mommy's here. I'm not going to let anything ruin your graduation. You've earned it." She breaks the hug and dries your eyes with a tissue she retrieves from her purse. She takes your chin in her hand and pulls your gaze to hers. "I'll always be there for you, no matter what. If Chris wants a piece of my baby boy, he'll have to come through me to get it!"

You sniff and give a weak smile, which brings a big grin from your mother in return. You don't know what you'd do without her. Without her support and love, you're sure you could never have survived the really bad times before Chris got put away. She's the strongest and most caring person you know. After dad left her things were hard. She was a single mom, working her way through school while taking care of her illegitimate child. Her extremely religious family basically abandoned her and you. 'Good riddance' she always said, but you know it hurt her deeply. Despite all of this hardship, she beat the odds. She got her undergrad and then her law degree and was now close to becoming partner in a prestigious local firm. Despite lean times when you were younger, you never wanted for anything and these days any money troubles you and her may have had are long over. You just hope you can pay her back someday, somehow.

"I love you Mom. Thanks... for everything." You say, with adoration in your voice. She pulls you in and plants a light kiss upon your forehead, her generous bust pressing ever so slightly against your torso. She places her hands on your face and beams down at you.

"I love you too sweetie." She checks her watch. "It's almost time. Head on over to the auditorium, I'll be in section two." She gives a little sigh, still beaming. "I can't wait to see you walk. I'm so proud of you honey!"