Update - 4
********
To say I was shocked would be the understatement of the year. The more I thought about
it, the more confused I became. I studied the image of the silhouette that had burned
its way deep into my mind. The legs, seen from the bottom of the stairs, topped by
a healthy set of buttocks partly visible under the skimpy dress, or slip—which was
it? The hair, tousled and not straight like Nita's—but wouldn't her hair look like
that after such an incredibly intense fuck?
Who had I really seen at the top of the stairs?
My mind said it was Mom but my gut roiled at the thought. It couldn't be! She had
been downstairs listening. I was positive of that. Maybe she had followed Nita up
the stairs and I had only seen her, carrying her dress because she had taken it off
while listening to the wild sex in the elevator room.
In a reversal, my mind now said it was Nita but my nagging gut worried that it might
be Mom. Slowly, my mind won and my stomach settled down. Mom had done me a huge favor
and I shouldn't kick a gift horse in the mouth. I turned on the light and went back
for my clothes. Dressed, I went upstairs, treading slowly, afraid to run into Mom.
I wasn't sure enough in my mind about what I seen to trust myself for a face to face.
I showered and went straight to bed. The next day, I slipped out of the house without
eating breakfast. That night, I avoided Mom. Strange, the first time I'd had Nita
Mom had angrily shunned me and here I was staying clear of her after she had handed
Nita to me on a platter. What ingratitude!
Still, I was uncomfortable around Mom. Days went by and the unsettled feeling gradually
diminished. My worry changed from being afraid of being around her to wondering why
she also seemed to be avoiding me. It was after-the-elevator déjà-vu all over. I found
myself slipping back into my helpful routine, loading and unloading the dishwasher,
tidying up and doing whatever else came to mind.
I couldn't bring myself to compliment Mom until almost two weeks after the incident.
Mom wore what had to be one of the dresses she had bought while shopping with Nita,
a wrap that fit snugly around her body. I examined her closely when I thought she
wasn't looking. Did that body match up with what I'd felt downstairs. I gave my head
a shake and looked away.
Jesus Christ bonehead. For the last fucking time, it wasn't Mom!
Why did I persist in this fantasy? I looked back at Mom just as she walked to the
dining room table and began arranging flowers. Her legs were strong and well defined.
The dress, tighter than her normal affair, outlined a wonderfully feminine derriere.
Sumptuous and inviting. She might be older, and my mother, but she definitely had
what it took to garner a man's attention. Why did I want to think it was her downstairs?
I was getting so fucking weird. I shook my head again but, despite lingering recriminations,
joined Mom at the dining room table.
"That's a nice dress, Mom. It looks awesome on you."
"Thanks, it's nice that someone around here notices what I wear."
"Is it a special occasion?"
"Does it have to be a special occasion for me to look nice?"
"No."
"Good," Mom responded cheerily.
"Well, you do look nice."
"I hope it makes you feel better. You've been down in the dumps since your 'friend'
visited."
"Nita? Yeah, I guess I have."
"Did something bad happen?" Mom pushed the flower stems around with more force.
"Bad? No. I…we…it was great, actually. I should, I mean, uh, thanks Mom, for asking
her to come over."
"Actually, she invited herself, remember?"
"Oh yeah."
"But, you're welcome anyway."
"Well, thanks again, and yeah, it does make me feel better to see you dressing in
a, uh, more fun way."
Mom laughed. "It is kind of fun, isn't it?"
"Yeah."
Mom fiddled with the flowers and I stood in awkward silence behind her. I expected
her to finish but she kept moving the flowers about and I realized that maybe she
was waiting for me to leave, or to say something more.
"So," I finally broke down, "do you think Nita will come again?"
"Would you like her to?"
"Yeah, very much."
"I could call her if you like."
There was a long pause.
"When?" I choked out.
"How about tomorrow night. It's Dad's poker night again."
Oh yeah. Dad played poker every second Wednesday. Perfect.
"That would be great, Mom."
I put my finger on her neck, the way I had done before. There was more bare shoulder
available with this dress. Mom didn't even flinch, as if she had expected me to touch
her. I stroked the muscle running from her neck to her shoulder.
"She might not come," Mom said.
"Why? Did she say anything? Was something wrong?"
Mom didn't answer.
"I wouldn't want her to be mad," I said.
"She wasn't mad, just…I don't know. Why don't I just call her and we'll see what happens?"
"Okay. Thanks, Mom."
I leaned closer and gave Mom a light kiss on her right cheek, then skipped lower and
brushed my lips against the side of her neck. My erection brushed against the back
of her left hip. I pulled my lips pulled away from her skin but stayed close, mouth
hovering less than half an inch away. I could feel my hot breath bouncing off Mom's
neck. Mom swayed back slightly and my erection pressed against her left buttock. I
didn't pull away.
"I sure hope she comes," I whispered.
"We'll see," Mom replied.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The next day was Wednesday. I couldn't get Mom away from Dad long enough to ask her
if she had called Nita and whether or not she was coming. Mom seemed to purposely
stay near Dad and I started worrying that she hadn't remembered to call her or that
she had and Nita said she wasn't coming.
As I looked at Mom, trying to will her to hear my request and answer it with a nod
or knowing smile, I realized that all thought that the woman I had been with downstairs
was Mom had disappeared from my mind. How bizarre for me that have thought that in
the first place.
Dinner was very good but when I started to help Mom clean up, partly so I could query
her, she slipped away and joined Dad in the living room. By the time I got the dishwasher
loaded and started, and got the counters cleared and wiped, Mom had disappeared.
"Where's Mom?" I asked Dad.
Dad looked up. "I don't know. She was here a minute ago." He turned his attention
back to the TV.
"Aren't you playing poker tonight?"
"I don't know. I'm not sure if I'm up for it tonight."
Oh my God. He's going to ruin it.
"Where's Mom?" I asked again. I needed her help. Did she know about this?
"What's up?" Mom's voice rang out.
I turned and caught Mom coming down the stairs. She was wearing the chocolate brown
dress. She finished descending the stairs and swept past me into the living room,
leaving me in a mist of perfume. I turned and looked at her, now standing in front
of Dad's chair. My gaze was drawn to her legs which looked really nice although I
couldn't see much more than an inch or so above the knee.
"What's this about your poker night?"
"I think I might not go."
"Don, it's your turn next time. You have to go."
"It is? Oh yeah. I guess I should then."
"You'd best get ready. You'll be late."
Dad got up and rushed upstairs. Mom looked at me. I was about to thank her profusely
when her smile disappeared.
"You're not wearing that to see Nita?"
I looked down at my clothes. Yeah, what's wrong with this? But I didn't say it.
"And have a shower while you're at it," Mom said.
She spun around and sat down on the couch, crossed her legs and let one stretch out.
She picked up the TV remote then looked at me.
"Well?"
I ran up the stairs. In the shower, my cock stood up hard. I soaped it more than anything
else but had to quit lest I waste valuable spunk down the drain. I toweled off quickly
and ran into my room with the towel wrapped around myself. I picked out some decent
clothes, ran back to comb my hair, threw on some of Dad's aftershave, even though
I didn't shave—I preferred the bristly look—and rushed downstairs.
Nobody was there. I looked outside. Dad's car was gone and Mom's was still in the
driveway. I looked around for Mom, went back upstairs and checked out my parents'
room. Nobody. I went back downstairs, checked all the rooms again and sat down.
What the fuck? I sat for a few minutes, then got up and went into the kitchen. The
door to the basement was ajar. I opened it and looked downstairs, ducking down to
peer at the elevator room. The pocket door was open about three inches again. I smiled.
They must be down there, waiting for me. I hardened in my pants and reached in to
straighten myself.
Put on better clothes for Nita's visit. Yeah, right. Mom knew I would be taking them
off before she even saw me. What a joke.
I used the kitchen light to guide myself down the stairs, walked over to the room
and got undressed, piling my clothes neatly to the right of the door. I looked through
the gloom at the open rumpus room door and seriously thought about going over there
to thank Mom. Thank god I was already naked because otherwise I might have done it
without thinking that Mom probably didn't want to be caught getting ready to listen
to me having sex with a woman.
I smiled. Let's get on with the show.
I slid the door open and stepped inside, naked and ready to receive my bounty. The
door slid closed behind me and I walked confidently to the center of the room. She
was there, waiting for me. Kneeling like before, wearing the silky fuck-me dress.
I didn't kneel behind her like before. Instead, I stood behind her and put my fingers
on her shoulders on either side of her head. I stroked her lightly and when she tried
to turn to look up at me in the darkness, I kept her head facing straight ahead. I
rubbed the sides of her face, pushed my fingers around to feel her lips and nose,
then pressed my fingertips gently over her closed eyes.
I reached down and grasped the hem of the fuck-me dress and pulled it up. She lifted
her arms to let me pull it over her head and off. I tossed it back toward the door.
Her arms were still raised above her head, as if she somehow knew I would want to
grasp them, to run my hands down along their length, and to explore her cleanly shaved
underarms. I bent over and kissed the top of her head, then the side of her face,
and finally, her shoulder.
I pushed her arms down and stepped to her right side, grasped her chin and turned
her face toward me and up. Dipping slightly, I grasped the hair on top of her head
and, with my other hand, fed my cock into her mouth.
She took it without resistance but when she tried to grab my cock with her hand, I
batted it away. She didn't try to interfere again. I shifted my feet to get closer,
dipped my hips, and started grinding them toward her head, pushing my cock easily
in and out of her mouth. My right hand dropped to the back of her head and pulled
it further onto my cock while my left, holding her hair, prevented it from moving
completely off my cock on the outstroke.
Fuck, she really knew how to let a man enjoy himself, knew how to suck cock, knew
how to let a man fuck her face, was instinctively aware how wonderful it felt for
him. I crossed my right foot over her thighs to get more in front of her and started
feeding my cock deeper into her mouth in slower thrusts. After several thrusts in
succession, I pulled it out to let her get her breath, then started in again. The
sound started up after a few minutes when her mouth thickened with saliva. That wonderful
squelching sound of cock meshing with mouth. Ahhhh, God, it felt good.
I wanted to spew on her face but was afraid that she would run out of the room to
wash it off if I did. So I pulled my cock out and grasped her head, lifting until
she stood up. Stepping behind her, I started feeling her, sliding my hands and fingers
all over her body, from head to toe, stroking her legs and arms, inside and out, kneading
her tits, and brushing over her pubes, kissing here and there, sucking sometimes,
nibbling others. I lost track of how long I did this until I noticed that her legs
were trembling. It was getting hard for her to stand on her own.
I walked her over to the wall and pressed her gently against it. I spread her legs
and her arms, following them out until my hands covered hers. Then, and only then,
I started searching for her pussy with my cock. I nudged around unsuccessfully until
she began working her ass around to help me, pushing it out and lifting it until my
cock was caught underneath.
I slid between her legs under her cheeks for a minute or so until she managed to catch
my tip in her slit and I slid into her tunnel which, now thickly wet, still resisted
and welcomed at the same time. A long, slow fuck against the wall followed. It was
a long time before she pushed me away from the wall with her ass, far enough for her
to drop her hands to the floor.
I grasped her hips and started digging into her roughly. She had sent me a signal
that she was ready and I wasn't about to ignore it. Her legs bent under the heaviness
of my assault and mine acclimatized to her stance. Soon, she was on her knees, shoulders
on the floor, and I was squatting over her, dipping my pole into her accommodating
cunt, her hips twisting just enough to make the entry slick each time.
I filled her like that. I couldn't see but I knew my cum was dripping down the inside
of her thighs and the thought of it made me find another squirt to add to the treasure.
I straightened my legs when I was finished and stood quietly behind her. She remained
in her hunched over position, letting my cum drip down her legs.
After several minutes, I bent over, found her foot, and grasped her ankle. I dragged
her back to where I thought the center of the room was, then twisted her legs until
she was lying on her back. I got down and she pulled her legs back, obviously thinking
I wanted to bend her legs way back to take her hard again. That is what I intended
to do but something made me stop.
It was the perfume.
I had smelled it upstairs when Mom whisked by.
The mystery of the silhouette was solved. Now I knew for sure.
My sexual fantasy woman was none other than my mother.
I froze and so did she, sensing that something was wrong. Her legs, half bent and
poinsed to be shoved all the way back, dropped until her feet hit the floor and slowly
straightened. She was waiting for me to go, to run away. I knew because that was what
was going through my mind. But I couldn't move. Should I confront her and give up
this fantastic sex? Play the duped, wounded son and return to Elaine, and my hand?
The room echoed our heavy breathing, each of tense, waiting for the traumatic event
to unfold. She lay still and I knelt unmoving before her, between her legs. Her lack
of response decided me.
I moved. Not up and away but toward her, rising until I was hovering above her. Slowly,
I lowered myself until my chest brushed her breasts and my cock dangled on her belly.
My face found the side of hers. Her arm curled around my head and her fingers found
the side of my face. Another set of fingers threaded into the hair at the back of
my head. I let my weight sag lower, squashing her breasts and trapping my hard cock
between our bellies.
I nuzzled the side of Mom's neck, nibbled it, found her ear and kissed it, drew back
and found her mouth. I covered her lips with mine and kissed her. I worked her lips
with mine for a while before pushing my tongue into her mouth. That was the start
of a long, intense duel which I gladly lost.
Our bodies moved, hardly at all at first, then more and more, straining to be together,
matching each other part to part, from torso to feet, rubbing, pushing, pulsing, trembling
together, needing to be one and the same. I didn't know I had entered her until my
cock was all the way in. I grunted and started fucking her.
"I need you Nita," I mumbled, meaning it, knowing it was Mom but desperate to maintain
the illusion in case it was needed.
Mom didn't answer but her response was more than enough. Her legs curled around my
thighs until her heels dug into my hips and urged me deeper inside her. I obliged
and soon we were straining to get completely inside each other, cock to cunt, face
to face, and everywhere in between.
"God, I need you so much."
"Shhhhhhh."
They were the last words spoken. We didn't need them, not here, not in this room.
We could have fucked for hours or it might have been for only ten minutes. I have
no idea how long it took but it was the most wonderful, fulfilling orgasm of my life.
When it was over, we cuddled and nuzzled until, finally, she indicated that she wanted
to go. I slipped sideways off her and let her get up.
This time I didn't try to follow. I heard her pick up her clothes and walk slowly
up the stairs to the kitchen. She didn't rush, didn't try to run away. The kitchen
door opened and I looked up but all I could see were her bare legs. She paused as
if to let me see more if I wanted, then disappeared.
I got dressed and went upstairs to shower. The shower was on in Mom's room when I
went by. There was no doubt about it.
I was a mother fucker, and I didn't want it to stop!
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
For the next week, it was hard to be around Mom. I didn't know where to look and excused
myself from the breakfast or dinner table as soon as possible to minimize my discomfort.
Thankfully, Mom seemed equally disinterested in interacting with me, though it took
me several days to notice. That made me fearful that I would lose the fulfilling excursions
in the 'The Room' so I bucked up and returned to being helpful, overcoming the shame
and disgust I felt for wanting and actually fucking my mother. I felt angry, as if
it was Mom's fault that I wanted her so badly.
At first, Mom ignored my efforts, then she thanked me begrudgingly, but eventually,
we were back to normal and I was actually able to banter with her a bit without feeling
queasy or angry. The ice-breaker was something we heard on TV that we both laughed
at too hard. I realized then that I really wanted the barrier between us gone whether
or not visits to The Room continued. Mom and I got along so well in the next couple
of days that I almost wished sex wouldn't ensue. Almost.
I was putting the vacuum away in the hall closet when Mom tried to get by. I leaned
against the wall to let her pass but, looking at her figure, couldn't help myself.
The words were out before I could stop them.
"Hey Mom, do you think Nita will come by again sometime soon?"
Mom stopped dead in her tracks. She was so still I thought maybe something was wrong
and was about to ask her if she was okay when she answered, very quietly.
"I don't know."
"Oh," was my only reply. I tried to think of something else to say, something that
would prompt the kind of response I was seeking, but my mind was blank. Mom started
to go and I felt the opportunity to continue our new relationship slipping away. Still,
I couldn't speak.
Mom paused and, half turning toward me but keeping her face pointed away, asked in
a trembling voice, "Would you like me to ask her?"
"Yes, I would," I answered in a voice just as shaky.
"Alright."
Mom continued on to her room. My eyes might have been playing tricks on me but she
swayed as if she was a little light-headed. I chided myself for taking such a foolish
chance. Why hadn't I broached the topic in a more subtle manner? I could have blown
everything. Still, I was exhilarated by Mom's response, especially because I had a
feeling it wasn't what she had meant to do.
The next day, I waited for Mom to inform me of Nita's next visit but she was silent.
Finally, I asked her outright just before dinner.
"So, when's Nita coming?"
Mom looked away and busied herself with the stove though she'd only just checked everything.
"I don't know," was the quiet response.
"You did ask her?"
"Not yet."
"Oh. Are you going to?"
"I'm not sure."
I wanted to ask why but my instincts suggested that wouldn't be wise. I changed the
subject.
"What's with all the cake and stuff?"
"It's my turn for Bridge night."
"Oh right."
Mom played bridge every Tuesday night so her turn as host came up every three months.
"And, of course, your father is going out after supper," she added. "You'd think with
all I do for his poker nights he could help like the other husbands do, but oh no,
he always finds an excuse not to be here."
"Mom, you know you ladies have more fun without him around."
Mom laughed. "Well, I guess that's true. The other husbands usually beat a hasty retreat
after the girls have had a few glasses of wine but at least they're there to pour
the first few."
"I'll bet they do," I said.
"If they didn't their ears would get red."
"No doubt."
Strangely, Mom suddenly blushed. I couldn't think of anything else to say so I left
the kitchen. After dinner, I went up to my room to stay out of the way. The women
began to arrive shortly after Dad left. I thought nothing of it until I heard Mrs.
Hancock's voice, a rare event. She was younger than most of them, in her early to
mid thirties, but more conservative than most. Her husband was a real go-getter, a
man on the move so to speak, who had recently won a big promotion but she was shy.
Mrs. Hancock's kid had just started school so, with her husband working long hours
and traveling, she was on her own quite a lot and seemed bored. I had picked this
up along with a few more juicy tidbits from overhearing gossip when Mom's friends
dropped by.
The thing was, Mrs. Hancock was good looking. She had long blonde hair that would
have looked better on a tanned face rather than her pale one. Mrs. Hancock was a little
mousy looking but she was still pretty and had a nice, slender body that was kind
of a sleeper unless you really looked at it. I bet her tits were bigger that they
looked under the concealing clothes she wore.
A month ago that thought would never have crossed my mind. Now, though, it struck
me that Mrs. Hancock, and a few of Mom's other friends, were just as bored with their
lives and weren't bad looking either, just older.
I laughed and said out loud, "What they need is a really good fuck."
I covered my mouth and looked at the door to make sure it was shut, then pictured
Mrs. Hancock and a couple of Mom's other friends that were the most fuckable. I had
to stretch my leg out to relieve my sudden discomfort. I wondered how they would have
reacted to Ramone's preening. Would they have checked him out like Mom did?
I laughed again, then got a pair of socks out of my drawer, nice thick ones. I stuffed
them down the front of my pants and checked myself out in the mirror. Too much. I
pulled the socks out, peeled them apart, tossed one away and folded the other in half.
I pushed it down my pants and stood, hips thrust forward, and swayed back and forth.
Now that was eye-catching.
What a laugh. I bet if Ramone was here those women wouldn't want their old men around
serving wine and snacks. I spoke out loud, "I should give them a 'Ramone' show."
I preened in front of the mirror, then stepped away and keeled over on the bed, laughing
my guts out until I had to stop to catch my breath. I wondered, if Mom saw me like
this would she think of Ramone and what happened in The Room? Would it prompt her
to 'call' Nita? I rejected the idea as too dangerous. It could backfire. I needed
a more subtle suggestion.
Suddenly, I was hungry and thought of the cake and cookies downstairs. I was halfway
down the stairs when three or four of the women from the dozen arranged around the
dining room table and two card tables in the living room looked up. Mrs. Hancock and
two other women glanced back for a second look just before I reached the bottom and
swung into the kitchen. It was only then that I realized that I had forgotten to take
the sock out of my pants. They weren't looking at my face!
In the kitchen, I made a beeline straight for the sink. I was bending over to open
the cupboard below it where the garbage was and had one hand slipping inside my pants
to get the sock out when Mrs. Adam's voice rang out.
"Hello Ryan. What are you up do?"
Mrs. Adams was one of the other ladies that had looked back with Mrs. Hancock She
was Mom's age but hadn't worn the years as well. I straightened up but kept my back
to her. I grabbed an unopened bottle of coke from the counter, unscrewed the cap and
threw it in the garbage.
"Just getting a coke and stealing some cake, Mrs. Adams."
I got a small plate out of the cupboard and helped myself to a couple of cookies and
a piece of cake. I picked up the plate and the bottle of coke and started to leave.
"You're not leaving yet are you?"
"Uh, I just came down for a snack, Mrs. Adams."
"Yes, well we'd all like to have a snack," she said, looking down at the plate I was
holding and then lower. Her eyes were still down there when she added, "I think you
could give us all a snack."
Her tone was very suggestive and, despite her age and slight chubbiness, there was
an underlying core of unabashed sexuality that wasn't a put-on for kidding around.
It triggered a response and unnerved me at the same time.
"I have to get my homework done."
Becoming even more playfully suggestive, Mrs. Adams said, "But we're so hungry, Ryan."
Her gaze returned to the front of my pants.
"Put that down and bring us all a treat."
I hesitated.
"Come on, now. Put it down and help your mother out."
I turned and put the bottle and the plate on the counter.
"Put the rest of the cake on the cookie platter and bring it in."
I did as I was told but felt quite uncomfortable with Mrs. Adams standing next to
me eyeing up the front of my pants. Why did Ramone get off on this?
Mrs. Adams led the way into the dining room. "Look what I found in the kitchen," she
announced.
Amongst titters and giggles, I reloaded the side plates with cake or cookies or both
for the four women there.
"Harriet, it's your bid," one of the women in the living room called.
"Hold your horses. I'll be right there. Come along, Ryan. Let's give the rest of the
girls a treat."
She laughed and led me into the living room to serve the other women who were sitting
around two card tables. Mrs. Hancock, while trying not to be obvious, immediately
locked her eyes onto the front of my pants. So did Mrs. Carter, the eldest, and one
by one all of the other women noticed too. Eyes went wide and most looked away but
only one frowned. Mrs. Hancock and Mrs. Carter were made of stronger stuff and, either
unaware that they were gawking or not caring that they were, thoroughly enjoyed the
show. I found Mrs. Carter's reaction surprising. A flower child from the seventies,
she had become quite prim despite her affection for the Granny dresses of her youth.
I returned to the kitchen amid quiet whispers and laughter.
Mom appeared behind me.
"Ryan, what was that all about."
"I thought you might like some help since Dad's not here."
Good recovery, I thought.
"Uh huh, and what's up with that?"
Mom pointed in the general direction of her complaint, looking a little pissed.
"What?" I asked, innocently.
"That." Mom's shook her extended arm but without greater accuracy.
"Oh that. It's just a joke, Mom. You know, like Ramone." I exaggerated the last syllable
of Ramone's name and laughed.
Despite her anger, Mom laughed with me. I mean, even if she thought Ramone was sexy,
she had to admit his posing was a funny. Speaking of Ramone, I hoped the thought of
him would made her think of Nita and, looking at her face, a flicker of an unidentifiable
emotion beneath the laughter gave me hope.
"Do you think that's appropriate for my bridge club?"
"I guess not. Sorry."
"Well, it was funny but maybe you should take it out now."
"Take it out?"
"You know what I mean."
I was surprised at the audacity of my jest and how quick Mom picked up on it. Before
she could get angry I picked up two bottles of wine, one white and one red, and held
them out.
"Okay Mom, but the ladies are thirsty."
"Well, that will help and I suppose you did give them a laugh, but after that go upstairs
and take out whatever you stuffed in there."
I was a very attentive host. I served the ladies wine but then hung around downstairs
because, surprisingly, Mom didn't shoo me out right away. Despite knowing the lump
was a joke, several of them kept looking but the ones that looked the most were Mrs.
Hancock and, well, Mom. The novelty had worn off for the other women but that simply
made Mom and Mrs. Hancock's attention more rewarding and it was sufficiently flattering
to embolden the front of my pants more than the sock could do alone.
While they played, I thought about Mom servicing the substance of my bulge in the
darkness of The Room. Seeing Mrs. Hancock's small mouth, it was hard to imagine her
taking it like Mom had. Considering which card to play next, she pursed her lips and
I wondered if she could even get it in. I pictured myself trying to feed my cock into
her tiny mouth, using my thumb and index finger to pry it open and still being unable
to get more than the head inside, the shaft bending with each unsuccessful attempt.
That picture made me really stiff and the little skit that played in my head after
that made me even harder: Mom showing Mrs. Hancock how to do it, opening her mouth
wide and taking me deep with ease, alternately looking up at me cow-eyed and then
sideways at the younger woman in haughty superiority as if to say, 'That's how it's
done'.
"Ryan…Ryan."
"Huh? Yes, Mom?"
Mom didn't answer but indicated with a flick of her eyes that I should go upstairs.
My welcome with the only woman that really counted in the room had worn out. My reverie
had made me really hard so it was with some difficulty that got up and did as Mom
asked.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The next morning, I woke up confident that 'Nita' would visit that night. It was Dad's
poker night, so the timing of last night's gambit, using Ramone to prime Mom, seemed
perfect. I thought that Mom had been intrigued by Mrs. Hancock's poorly disguised
attention to my crotch and that bode well too.
The day dragged, each class more boring than the previous one. When I was finally
free I walked quickly to the bus stop but only had to wait there longer, fidgeting
like a crackhead in need of a fix. Once off the bus, I refused to run home like a
little kid but walked at a very brisk pace. I burst through the door and headed straight
into the kitchen. Mom wasn't there. I exited the kitchen and was about to call out,
half turned to go upstairs, when I saw Mom sitting in the living room reading a magazine.
My heart caught in my throat. She was wearing the brown dress!
I stopped with one foot hanging mid-air about to land on the first step. Slowly, I
twisted toward the living room and planted both feet on the floor. Mom looked gorgeous
sitting there, aware of my presence but ignoring me. The skirt of the brown dress
was pulled back a little more than expected from the knee of her left leg which was
crossed over the right. I didn't say anything but simply stood and waited for her
to notice me.
Her hair was thick and luxurious. How had I ever mistaken Nita for Mom, even in the
dark, with her longer, straight hair? Mom flipped a couple of pages, then changed
her position, crossing right leg over left. With her foot now pointing away from me,
the side of Mom's leg was more exposed, with a line delineating the firm upper thigh
from the softer part hanging bulbously underneath. The hem was just high enough for
me to see the underside of Mom's thigh curve sharply away from her knee. I have always
loved that part of a woman's leg.
Mom flipped a few more pages. I couldn't stand it any longer.
"Hi Mom."
She looked up, as if noticing me for the first time.
"Oh, hi."
She returned to the magazine and I crossed to the wall nearest her and leaned against
it. Mom re-crossed her legs. This time, the left bent a little more, causing it to
cross at a right angle rather than extending off the right knee, and that created
a gap between her legs. The dress inched up and, from my vantage point above and to
the right in front, I could see part way into the darkness of Mom's skirt.
"What's up?" Mom asked.
"Oh, nothing."
Mom flipped the page and examined the pictures on the left side of the magazine, lifting
it off her knee. The dress slipped up another inch and I craned my neck while trying
not to appear to be doing so. The dress had slid up enough to show the top of her
stockings and the tender flesh above. I stretched more when I though I caught a glimpse
of Mom's panties.
"I don't believe it!" Mom exclaimed.
I jerked my eyes away from Mom's skirt but thankfully she had pulled the magazine
closer to her face, hiding me from her view and leaving me free to return my attention
to her panties. Were they the dark brown ones?
I was happy to note that Mom had drawn her left knee back when she pulled the magazine
close to her face, widening the gap between her thighs. There they were, the brown
panties. I felt a twinge below.
"When will they ever quit?" Mom muttered.
Thinking about the evening to come while staring at Mom's panties made my lips tingle
and moisture bead on my lips. Mom rattled the magazine but kept it close to her face.
The movement made her panties throb and my lower jaw trembled.
"Can you believe that!" Mom cried, dropping the magazine and looking straight at me.
"What?" I managed to croak out.
The muscles in my neck were taut to the breaking point. Mom had caught me staring
up her dress and her eyes were intense, but with an indignation derived from the magazine
rather than anything I had done. In fact, she seemed unaware of my transgression,
although how that was possible was beyond me.
"These politicians. They take whatever they want with no regard for anyone."
Mom looked back at the magazine, genuinely indignant. She didn't pull it close to
her face again but neither did she close her legs. Despite the danger, my eyes were
drawn into her skirt again. If she glanced up, I would be caught. Would she miss it
a second time?
And what if she did? Despite our little game, it was obvious that it hadn't been Nita
in The Room. Though I had caressed Mom's neck and pressed myself against her, there
hadn't been any blatant acknowledgement of that fact. Still, there was the distinct
possibility that our special relationship would not survive the light of day so I
did have reason to be afraid.
I gawked at Mom's panties anyway.
"It really pisses me off. I mean, really. Listen to this."
Slowly, Mom drew the magazine closer to her face and as she did her legs widened.
I stared at the dark brown panties as Mom began to speak. For the first time, I noticed
that they were actually decorated with a lacy pattern that completely covered her
mound. Mom's voice droned on and only occasionally became more intense. Each time
that happened, her mound quivered in reaction. God, I my mouth had been on that pussy
and my cock had filled her cunt. And yet, I was incredibly excited just looking at
it covered by panties. Jesus, I so desperately wanted to fill it again. If only I
could…
"Don't you think so?"
"What?" I hadn't realized Mom was talking to me.
"Don't you think they should go to jail for that?"
"Uh, yeah, for sure. Damn right they should," I stuttered.
"Oh darn. Is that your father already?"
I hadn't heard anything but Mom twisted around to look over her left shoulder, in
the exact opposite direction she should have looked to see if Dad was coming in the
driveway. She arched her back and stretched her left hand out to the window. As a
result her legs stretched wide open and the dress slid to the top of her legs. A gap
appeared on each side of her panties and I immediately noticed that no stray pubic
hairs appeared. Had she trimmed it especially for tonight? God I loved her!
"Yup, he'll be wanting his dinner right away since it's poker with the boys tonight."
Mom spun around. Again I was caught with my eyes where they shouldn't be.
"Ryan, can you set the table while I…"
"Ryan!"
I stared at Mom, fright freezing my body.
"Why didn't you tell me my dress had…oh, that's simply awful."
Mom set the magazine down on the couch beside her and tugged her dress down but didn't
seem to be in a hurry despite the trauma evident in her voice.
"What if someone had been in the room?"
"I, uh, I didn't notice…"
"How could you not notice?"
"I was, um, listening to your story, about the, um, politicians."
Mom got her legs closed and stood up.
"Well, in future, please pay more attention. If someone else had been here I would
have been so embarrassed."
"Sorry Mom. I'll pay more attention next time."
"I hope so. Thank God it was just you."
We were both in the kitchen when Dad came in. Mom was getting the meal ready to serve
up and I was carrying dishes out to set the dining room table. Every trip into the
kitchen to get plates or cutlery, I took time to look Mom over. That conservative
brown dress looked so sexy on her now. I knew how fine the body beneath it was and
how accommodating or demanding it could be. I could hardly wait to spread those legs.
And that mouth, I wanted to get into it too. She was such a hot woman and my father,
ignoramus that he was, had sat down in front of the TV with barely a hello. No matter,
in an hour he would be gone and soon after that, 'Nita' would visit The Room and I
would make up for his callous disregard.
Poker night. I loved poker nights. Had Mom been teasing me, just to get me worked
up for later? Without thinking, I rubbed my cock as I walked behind Mom on the way
to get the glasses.
It's going to a long night, Mom. I'm not letting you out of that room for hours, I
thought.
My world caved in after dinner. I had cleared the plates from the table and followed
Mom back to the dining room as she carried dessert from the kitchen.
"Is there more of this for the boys?" Dad asked Mom.
"Of course, dear. In the fridge."
"Are you going to serve it for us?"
"Did you help with my bridge club last night?"
Dad looked uncomfortable. "Come on. You know I'm not going to play waiter for a bunch
of ladies."
"Then why should I be a waitress for a bunch of drunken louts?"
"It's once every four months for God's sake."
"You can serve yourselves. I'll leave brownies and cookies on the counter and there's
more ice cream cake in the fridge."
"Mary."
"Don't Mary me. You guys are big enough to look after yourself."
"I'll talk to them about their language."
"That won't do any good after ten minutes and you know it. I'll be upstairs with the
door shut where I don't have to listen to it."
"But Mary, Bill's wife and Gord's wife…"
"I don't care, and that's final."
Final was right. I had grown a big boner watching Mom carrying dessert in, knowing
that in less than an hour I would be having the best dessert known to Mankind. Now
it was still there, feeling sore, and devastated by the knowledge it wasn't going
to be relieved. It was Dad's turn for poker night. There would be no 'Nita' tonight.
I can't wait for another two weeks! Why the fuck had Mom worn that dress? Why did
she tease me that way?
That's the way it was. The world isn't fair. It sucked big time.
I tried to go to my room after dessert but Mom asked me to do up the dishes right
away since Dad's buddies were coming over. I did them, but made it obvious I wasn't
happy. Mom was so busy getting stuff ready for Dad's friends, she probably didn't
even notice my snit.
When Dad's buddies arrived I went upstairs, locked myself in my room, and threw myself
on the bed. I was really pissed. Mom must have known it was Dad's poker night. I mean,
she had prepared stuff for it. So what was with the teasing bit with the dress? Had
she really been unaware of my attention? That sucked even worse because it meant she
hadn't been egging me on.
Fuck, I was pissed off!
I twisted around onto my stomach and muttered into the pillow. Gradually, my anger
subsided and my mind filled with memories of Nita in the elevator. I stuffed my hand
in front and massaged my aching cock. At some point, while dreaming of renewed activities
with Nita, I dozed off. When I lifted my head, the room was shrouded in a heavy gloom.
It was almost dark outside.
Boisterous voices down stairs were pierced now and again by raucous laughter. Clearly,
Dad and his buddies had been drinking for a while. How long had I been asleep? I looked
at the clock beside my bed. After ten? Holy crap, I had been sleeping for three hours.
I got up, shook my head to clear the cobwebs, and ran my fingers through my hair.
I was hungry and wondered if there was any cake or other good stuff left. I stopped
to take a leak and then headed downstairs. Mom's door was open a crack and the light
was on so I stopped to listen to see if she was watching a movie but heard nothing.
Maybe she was reading in her nightgown. I pushed the door open a little.
"Mom?"
I pushed the door a bit more and poked my head inside. Mom wasn't in bed so I went
right in and called out a little louder to the bathroom.
"Mom?"
No answer. I looked inside to be sure, half hoping I would catch her getting in or
out of the shower. Hey, she hadn't seemed to be fussed that her panties had been showing
if it was just me in the room so maybe it would be alright for me to see her in her
nightie or even in the buff. Unfortunately, Mom wasn't there but the thought of her
being caught in a compromising position rekindled the fire I had felt throughout dinner
until Dad had dropped his bomb.
Mom must have relented and gone downstairs to serve Dad and his buddies. I went downstairs
to get some food and, what the hell, check out Mom's body. I guess I could live through
the next two weeks after all. Who knows, maybe she'd let me watch a movie with her
in her room.
Half of Dad's buddies were playing around the dining room table and another four and
Dad were crowded around a single card table in the living room. There were drink glasses
and empty beer bottles everywhere. They didn't pay any attention to me.
I looked in the kitchen but Mom wasn't there. That was weird. I grabbed a brownie
and wandered into the living room, casually watched the play for a minute or so, then
went down the hall past the guest bedroom and Dad's office to the bathroom. It was
empty. I guess Mom must have found it too loud even upstairs and had gone out to visit
a friend. I wandered back to the living room.
I wondered if Mom had gone over to Mrs. Hancock's place. Her husband was still out
of town and the thought of the two of them together reminded me of the daydream I'd
had about them sucking my cock. Sensing my awareness, it stiffened. Feeling self-conscious,
I ducked into the kitchen then rationalized my escape by getting a mound of food and
lifting two beers. Nobody was paying any attention to me so I figured I could sneak
them upstairs.
I was about to go back to my room when I thought about what it would be like to get
Mrs. Hancock into The Room. I was still pissed at Mom so I figured, if she wasn't
going to play anymore, could parley Mrs. Hancock's crotch interest into a visit to
The Room? What was her first name? Glenda? Yeah, that was it, Glenda. Was she lonely
enough to play? She seemed interested which was surprising given how shy she normally
was. Would that make her submissive? Would she let me push my cock into her tiny mouth,
blushing all the while?
Suck it, Glenda.
I shot a look at the dining room. Thank God I hadn't said that out loud. Her husband
wasn't here but one of the other might know him. I decided it was best not to hang
around the kitchen if I was going to daydream like that. Instead of going upstairs
I wandered downstairs, wondering how could I get Mrs. Hancock in The Room.
Shit, the door was open a crack! I stopped in my tracks, looked over my shoulder,
then walked to the rumpus room. Pushing the door open, I used the light from the basement
to find my way to a table and put all my goodies down on it. Returning to the basement,
I checked out the door again and walked closer to it.
Perfume, faint, but definitely there. My chest tingled and the feeling spread to my
stomach and neck, then up my spine to my head and down to my groin. She couldn't be.
She wouldn't, not with Dad and all his friends here. Would she?
I climbed carefully up the stairs, closed the kitchen door, then quietly descended.
At the bottom, I turned out the light. I stretched my hand out and felt my way in
the dark until my fingers touched the door, then moved my hand left until I could
grasp the open edge. I pulled it to the right and stepped inside, then gently pulled
the door closed behind me. I stood absolutely still.
She was here! I could smell her, could hear the faint sound of controlled breathing.
I swept my foot in a forward arc but didn't find the familiar pile of her dress. No
matter, it was here somewhere on the floor. I was sure of it.
As quietly as I could, I pulled my t-shirt over my head and tossed it into the right
corner. Bracing myself against the left side of the door, I lifted my right foot and
removed its sock, then, using the right side of the door to steady myself, removed
the left one. Silently, I popped the snap, slid the zipper down, and pushed my pants
down to the floor. I stepped free and kicked them into the corner to join my t-shirt
and socks. My underwear followed.
I stepped forward a couple of steps and stopped. I knew she'd be kneeling in front
of me, facing away. The thought of her there, with bare ass waiting for me to push
her forward and take her from behind, made my cock leap into hardness so quickly I
thought it would break from sudden brittleness.
No, I won't give in. She teased the hell out of me and that's what she wants. I'll
make her wait for it. I'll make her beg for it. I'll tease the hell out of her, maybe
even kiss her pussy, but only a few licks until she says 'please'. I'm the one with
the cock around here and she's the one that needs it. She's proved that much already.
I circled around until I would be in front of Mom, trying to be quiet so it would
be a surprise when my cock first touched her face. A small gasp told me of my success
as my cock, with incredible accuracy, struck a glancing blow and skidded off the side
of Mom's nose. I drew back and twisted my hips until my shaft slapped against the
side of her face, drew back farther and twisted the other way to slap the other side
with my rigid member. I drew back again and thrust forward, hitting her on closed
lips and skidding off the other side of her face.
Mom's hands came up through the darkness but I grabbed them, held them for a moment,
and tossed them away. She got the message and they didn't return. I cock-slapped her
face four or five times on each side for emphasis and then tried to poke it into her
mouth. It was still closed so my attempt at entry was unsuccessful. I grasped the
hair on top of Mom's head to hold her in place and tried again but only bumped against
tightly closed lips.
Oh yeah? So you want to play that way, do you?
I jabbed at Mom's mouth and tugged up on her hair, trying to lift her mouth open,
but her face only tilted up and my cock simply stabbed and deflected off her neck.
I put my other hand on her chin and tried to pry her mouth open. Her lips parted a
little but only enough to get the very tip of my head between the poutiness until
it banged against closed teeth. Ah, but those soft moist lips felt wonderful. Mom
had such full lips.
I released her chin and grabbed my shaft. Moving it sideways, I rubbed the tip between
Mom's lips, scraping it against her teeth. Gradually, her mouth opened until sufficient
room was available for the head to get part way past Mom's front teeth. Her teeth
scraped top and bottom but her gorgeous mouth felt fantastic anyway, so warm, pulpy
and slick. I tried to shove deeper but only gained half an inch. I knew Mom could
easily take me in deep, so what was she playing at? Is this what it would be like
trying to shove it in Mrs. Hancock's tiny mouth?
Mrs. Hancock? I suddenly remembered Mom looking at Mrs. Hancock, watching her stare
at the bulge in my pants and noticing the poorly disguised yearning on her face. Had
she seen me too, looking at Mrs. Hancock's mouth, while she was looking at my crotch?
Is this what Mom was doing? Had she read my mind?
I pushed harder but to no avail, stymied by Mom's partially closed mouth. I grasped
the sides of her head and tried to force my cock deeper but still couldn't, the shaft
bending under the strain just as I had imagined it would trying to get into Mrs. Hancock's
small mouth.
Bending over Mom's head, I flexed my hips and pumped my cock harder through Mom's
teeth. They parted more and the helmet scraped by until the entire head was lodged
firmly inside Mom's mouth but though I had gained entrance Mom's tongue and constricted
throat blocked further progress. Retreat was also prevented by Mom's teeth which closed
around my shaft as soon as the head popped inside. She wouldn't let me in but she
wouldn't let me escape either. I paused to get my breath, then renewed the attack,
grunting with the effort.
"Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh."
I was paying a high price to enjoy the pleasure of Mom's mouth but despite the painful
scraping and bending, I continued the assault. Obviously, Mom was also game or she
would have opened her mouth and let me pop out. I gained ground slowly but only by
millimeters on each thrust. However, the deeper I got, the less Mom's teeth bothered
me. I thrust harder and harder though I sensed progress was completely under Mom's
control, being awarded rather than won. I was at the entrance of her throat, enraptured
by inches of slithering glory, when the noise reached my brain.
Voices and thumping feet!
Mom's head drew back, sliding easily from my grip and her mouth popped noisily off
my cock. Suddenly, she was gone and I knew she had leapt toward the door. My own reaction
was slower, due to shock or a lack of oxygen-enriching blood in my brain. My father's
voice boomed.
"There it is. He said it's a hobby room," he slurred, "but it's empty."
The din of voices and pounding feet grew louder. They were almost here.
"You gotta see this. It looks like an elevator for Christ's sake. Has buttons and
ever'ting."
I reached the door and slipped my hand past Mom's fumbling search to flip the latch,
locking it just as someone, probably Dad, tried to yank the door open.
"What the fuck?"
That was Dad's voice. He pulled harder. I prayed the latch on the cheap pocket door
would hold. It would be hard to explain what Mom and I were doing inside in the dark,
naked, and me sporting an eight pounder.
The door rattled and I looked skyward. Please God, let it hold.
"You guys see some kind of secret button or something?"
Hands slithered over the door and the wall, searching for a way in. Someone banged
the wall with their fist and the door rattled.
"There's gotta be some kind of trick to it. Some kind of weird kid I've got hey?"
"No weirder than mine."
That was Mr. Thompson. His son Peter and I had once been best buddies and were still
good friends.
"He's such a fucking geek."
That started a barrage of "my kid's weirder than yours" comments. Dad threw in a few
daisies of some of the things I'd done in the past. Each time someone spoke, gales
of laughter ensued. Gradually the hands stopped sliding on the wall as the drunks
satisfied themselves with slagging their kids or those of their close relatives. But
Dad's contributions had struck home.
After Dad's first put-down, Mom slipped a comforting arm around my waist and leaned
her head on my shoulder. After the second comment, she slipped in front of me and
pulled me closer, then turned to lean against the side wall, probably to avoid the
fake elevator control panel I had installed next to the pocket door. She used my cock
to turn and pull me close to her. Her free hand explored the side of my face and then
the other released my cock and slipped up to the back of my neck. Her mouth was suddenly
on mine and the slagging voices turned into a background drone.
Mom pulsed her body against mine and I became aware for the first time that she wasn't
naked. In fact she was still fully dressed. My arms circled around and pulled her
tighter until the urge to explore her body grew too strong. My hands found her breasts
and took the measure of each, squeezing gently to test their firmness, and then slid
down to her hips and around to her ass.
"I don't know what's with kids today," one of the men said. "All they do is play computer
games."
"Yeah," Dad agreed. "I was hoping my kid would be good at baseball or football, something
anyway. Christ, he's so uncoordinated he's lucky to stay on his feet."
I cringed at this condescending criticism. Voices clamored to put down their own kids.
Mom's hand slid from my face down to my hip, then around and took hold of my cock.
She spoke, effectively abandoning her anonymity.
"I love your cock," she whispered.
It lurched in her hand but it was the hoarse voice more than the soft fingers closing
around the shaft that triggered the reaction. Now she was doing something with her
other hand. I pushed my hips away from the wall and thrust my shaft through the circle
of her delicate fingers.
"Wait," she whispered.
My cock was dropped. I felt Mom lifting her foot off the floor, first one then the
other. My cock was grabbed again and she pushed close. A leg slithered up the back
of mine.
"Do it," she whispered, pulling on my tool. "Show them."
Mom's hand slipped over my shoulder and curled around my neck. She used it for leverage
to pull herself up. The leg slid higher until Mom's heel notched into the small of
my back.
"Fuck me, right in front of them."
Her voice was hoarse and excited as her hand directed my cock, mashing the tip against
her soft, moist bush. Her face cradled into my neck and her teeth nibbled my ear.
"Fuck me."
She gouged my tip through her slit.
"I need you so bad," she whispered.
An extra pull and my knob was enveloped. Mom shifted, hopping closer on her one foot
as the other dug into my back.
"Show them, baby. Give me all of your cock."
I pushed and groaned as my shaft slithered through the clinging dampness of her tunnel.
"Shhhhh," she whispered.
Disregarding her warning, I plunged home, pushing her against the wall and lifting
her up onto her tippy toe. She rewarded me with a hoarse, muffled laugh. I drew back
and slammed into her hard, thumping her ass against the wall. I wanted to take her
hard, right here, on the other side of the wall from my fucking asshole father and
his stupid friends. I ground my root against Mom's pussy and groaned loudly.
"Shhhhhh," Mom cautioned.
My mouth was suddenly being stuffed with something. From the pungent odor and taste,
I knew it was her panties, the dark brown, lacy ones I had stared so hard at earlier
today. My tongued discovered the thick, lacy bit that covered the front and I slammed
into her, filling her cunt.
"Oh yes, baby. Fuck me hard."
Mom sprung up from her foot, curled it around my waist, and locked her legs together.
Her mouth fastened onto mine and her tongue plunged into me, pushing the panties up
to the roof of my mouth. I shoved my shoulders off the wall and walked around The
Room, stopping for one or two thrusts before stumbling on a step or two for a couple
more lunges.
I almost fell so I leaned over carefully to set Mom on the floor to fuck her real
good. She stretched her arms out to help and I lowered her until her weight eased
and then I knew her shoulders were resting on the floor. I tried to get down onto
my knees but Mom kept her legs locked around my waist. At first I didn't know what
she wanted, then I pulled her feet apart and pushed her ankles forward until Mom's
knees were beside her head. With her ass tilted up, I squatted over her, hands stretched
out to hold her ankles in place on the floor, and started slow-fucking her, really
deep. Oh man, I'm so glad she had done so much yoga over the years.
Way in, then up and out all the way, then squatting to find her hole again and shoving
in deep. Again, and again, and again. I wished I could see myself doing it like this.
I had watched a few pornos where guys did women like this but I never thought I would
be able to do it. Elaine would never let me do her this way because it wouldn't be
'comfortable'.
I worried about Mom brusing her shoulders from being on the floor like this and was
about to get off her when she said it again, "Show him, baby. Use his woman, right
under their fucking noses."
Ah God, I plunged in deep again, withdrew, and then returned faster, not pulling all
the way out because I was too eager to get back into her hot, steamy pulpiness. The
drunken voices and laughter covered the slap of my thighs against Mom's upturned ass
each time I plunged deep into her cunt.
It's mine!
"Her cunt is mine!"
Shit, had I said that out loud? I slammed it harder.
Mom gasped. "Yours baby, all yours."
I was almost there. Mom twisted and pushed me all the way out just as I was about
to slide in to release my load.
"Show him," she cried, lifting my cock above her slit and pulling so I couldn't get
back in. "Show him," she repeated, directing my cock down over her stomach.
I started to come.
"Ohhhh, ohhhhh, yeah, show him," Mom whispered hoarsely.
My load spurted, downward. I couldn't see but knew that whatever wasn't hitting the
floor was splattering Mom's stomach, tits and face. God, I wished I could see that!
When I was finished, I twisted around and sat on the floor, only now realizing how
harshly I was breathing through my nose. I spit out Mom's panties. I had forgotten
about them.
Mom sat up beside me and I could feel her using her dress to wipe her face. I wondered
how much had hit her. She rubbed for a while so I guess enough had landed where she
seemed to have wanted it. Man, I wished I could have seen it. An older woman in a
conservative, brown dress, getting me to fuck her in that awkward position, then holding
my cock to direct my spunk onto her face, all while her husband was in the next room
drinking with his buddies. Unbelievable!
We sat in the dark listening to my father and his drunken friends. They were making
trips upstairs to bring chips and beer downstairs. The party had moved into the rumpus
room. Mom had resumed her quiet anonymity, so we sat in silence. Eventually, someone
left, noisily bidding the others goodnight. Others followed until there were only
a couple left. The conversation became less boisterous and silly.
Mom started to crawl toward the door, or rather, toward the voices. I grasped her
ankle and prevented her getting away. She struggled, so I grabbed the other ankle
and held her tight until she stopped. She was still, lying face down. I wasn't sure
if I had it in me to do her again but she hadn't tried very hard to get away. Maybe
she hadn't come yet.
I spread her legs. She struggled a bit but when I pushed her knees hard onto the floor,
she became still. I pushed the dress up her thighs and onto her ass, reached up to
find the zipper and drew it down her back. Pulling the dress off her shoulders, I
worked until I got her arms out of it but left the dress on. I pushed my hands under
the skirt onto Mom's ass and kneaded her cheeks.
We listened to the voices of the men, unable to make out what they were saying except
for the occasions when their voices rose. I worked my hands all around Mom's ass and
when she parted her legs a little wider, I knew she was ready to be fucked again.
I kept massaging her ass but pushed my fingers between her legs and pulled on the
soft flesh of her inner thighs, tugging her pussy lips apart, teasing, always teasing.
Gradually, I began slipping my fingers into her slit, just a rub at first, but then
longer and deeper. Soon, I had two fingers inside her and when she lifted her ass
up from the floor, I pushed in three.
Some time later, it was four. I kept them close together and worked slowly, twisting
them half around and then back the other way, always moving in and out like a slow
drill. Mom held her ass high and kept her thighs wide, and I imagined her hands were
stretched out on the floor to brace herself. Her pelvis moved continually, reacting,
reaching for more and then shying away. She moaned softly, constantly. But she didn't
groan until I gobbed on her pussy before pushing my whole hand into her steamy cunt.
Mom balked but I stroked her back and whispered, "Relax."
I don't know if she was comforted by my voice but after a brief respite, her abdomen
started undulating again. I worked my hand inside her, pulled it out and gobbed noisily
onto her pussy for effect—it didn't need more lubrication! I spit again anyway and
she moaned.
I heard them come out of the rumpus room. They were leaving.
"We should help you clean up," one of them said.
"Don't worry about it," Dad said. "The little lady will clean it up tomorrow."
They all laughed.
I stayed my hand as they started up the stairs but Mom didn't stop grinding her ass
and worked her cunt on my hand, right down to my wrist. For once I was glad I didn't
have big hands. When they reached the top of the stairs, I started twisting my arm
and reached under Mom's tummy with my other hand to rub her clit. Mom went wild.
She moaned loudly, twisting frantically on my arm and at the same time bucked her
clit against the palm of my other hand. She was going nuts so I helped her, jigging
her cunt and rubbing her clit. Her body convulsed and her legs alternately went stiff
and straight, then bent and quivered uncontrollably. For a minute, I was scared she
was having a fit but then her juice discharged exhuberantly over my hand and down
my arm. I couldn't believe a woman could come like that.
Mom quivered on my hand for several minutes as I slowly worked it out of her cunt.
Afterwards, as she lay face down on the floor, she still shuddered every few seconds.
I waited patiently for her to recover, my hand inside her dress, stroking her back.
She was still for a long time and I continued to stroke her back.
The house grew quiet. I guess Dad had gone to bed. Mom stirred and slowly got up.
I didn't try to follow her and looked away when she opened the door. I didn't leave
until her steps had long faded away. It was dark in the house, and it was a mess.
I promised to get up early to help Mom clean up.
But I slept in.
********
...to be continued