Well, that Friday night sucked.
My mom was going out on her own date, meaning I would have the place to myself. So I'd invited the girl I was seeing over and was planning on getting inside her, when she called at the last moment and not only cancelled, but said she was seeing someone else and we wouldn't be dating anymore.
What shocked me was the dude she was tossing me over for- Kevin Layng. He was short, skinny, kinda dorky, and, as I knew from being in the locker room with him in senior year of high school, nothing to brag about in the manhood department. So either she had a thing for controlling wimpy guys, or ol' Kevin had something on her and she was dating him to keep it hushed.
Whatever. Best of luck to him. I'd just need to reel in and cast out again. There were lots more fish out there in the water, and Gina wasn't the catch of all catches. I just enjoyed that she had a speech impediment- she couldn't say 'no'.
The smug satisfaction of thinking about that li'l train wreck of a relationship was soon soured by remembering that my evening had been scuttled. It was getting on to too late to call anyone else, and frankly, I was rather bent out of shape, meaning I'd be less than perfect company for any gal I went out with. Guess I'm stuck at home.
I'd invited Gina over because I was horny, but now I was just grumpy. I sat at the kitchen coffee table, staring sullenly at the far wall and nursing a beer. I wasn't quite of legal drinking age yet, but I knew mom didn't care, as long as I didn't get into the hard stuff and didn't get smashed, leaving a mess for her to clean up. It wasn't even good beer, just Molson domestic.
So here I had the place to myself, and no girl to get laid with. What would I do? Sure, I could go upstairs and watch porn on my desktop, but that seemed like small consolation after getting dumped. Did I watch a DVD or some subscription porn on the big TV in the entertainment room? Only mildly better, really, not to mention that if I paid for a title, I was stuck watching it, even if it turned out to be a dud.
Go and blow shit up on my computer with my friends in some co-op game? That was a viable means of getting my annoyance out. I'd just have to endure being razzed about slinking back to play after blowing them all off to go on a date. And to be honest, I'd deserve it, because I would've razzed any of them. That's the kind of friends we were.
My musings were brought to an end when I heard the front door open and then slam.
Mom back already? I frowned and looked down at my phone, sitting on the table. It was just after nine. Had something gone wrong?
Mom came almost stomping into the kitchen, looking very sullen, and she didn't notice me at first. She was muttering to herself as she futzed around at one of the counters, trying not to smack things she took out of her purse down on the surface. I couldn't help but notice how she was dressed, and had to admit, she was a fine woman for someone who was not even forty, with lush, dark hair, brown eyes, and a great figure. Her outfit was decidedly not one she'd wearing to her teaching job. On anyone who wasn't my mother, that definitely would have been a 'fuck me' outfit for me.
But this was on my mother, and it was still a 'fuck me' outfit. The skirt was snug and rather short. Her blouse was silky and sexy, rather unusually tight across her chest, reminding me that she sported some generous tits. Her long legs were encase in dark stockings.
Yep, definitely a 'fuck me' outfit, even though it was on my mom. My friends who kept making comments about her MILF status weren't wrong, I admit. I'd seen her in bathing suits and bikinis before, and objectively she was hot, but I made sure I was always assessing her through my 'son' glasses, I guess. My friends probably had a more honest perspective than I did. To me, she was mom, the kindergarten and grade school teacher.
"Asshole..." she grumbled, slapping her car keys down on the surface. "I shaved my cunt and didn't wear panties for this?"
My eyebrow was only just rising at overhearing that sentiment. Wasn't very often I heard her swear, and I don't recall ever hearing 'cunt' from her before. Mom turned around and then yelped when she saw me sitting at the little coffee table in the other corner of the kitchen. She fell back against the counter, holding her chest, her eyes wide and starting to breathe loudly.
"Jesus, Aaron!" she gasped, almost clasping her throat as she tried to control herself. "What the Hell?!"
"I was wondering the same thing about you too, mom," I said somewhat dully. "I take it your date night didn't work out either?"
Her eyes darkened at the query and she seemed to be overtaken by grumpy again, forgetting her shock. She scowled and folded her arms, looking off at some indeterminate point on a wall. Despite the scowl on her face, I couldn't help noticing how pretty she was. Even if she was pretty pissed off.
"Mild understatement," she muttered. "Suffice to say that Ted and I are through."
"Holla," I said, holding up my beer. "I got the heave-ho tonight as well, before my evening began."
"Gina dumped you?" she asked, her eyes widening for a moment and then concern coming into them, her mothering instinct taking over. "What happened, baby?"
I shrugged somewhat dully. "She decided to go out with Kevin Layng instead of me."
Mom seemed very confused. "Kevin Layng? But he's skinny, dorky, and has a little dick."
My eyes widened at her. "Why do you know that?"
She shrugged. "Moms talk. But why him? Does he have something on her?"
"I was wondering that too," I sighed, taking another swig of my beer. "That, or she has a fetish for wimpy guys she can control."
"Either way, you can do better than a slag like her, baby," mom announced, turning back to the counter and resuming arranging the contents of her purse. I had a view of her from the side now, and I had to admit again, my friends weren't wrong. Mom kept herself in good shape, clearly, since she had a tight butt under that skirt, and her tits were definitely nothing to scoff at. Even in her blouse, you knew they were good stuff. Her dark hair was silky and thick, made for pulling on when you fucked her from be-
Wait, what the Hell was I thinking?!
"So I got cancelled on by my bitch ex," I sighed, shaking my head. "What about you?"
"I don't think you need to know, Aaron," she said as she futzed with the contents of the clutch. "Not the sort of thing moms discuss with their sons."
"You would if I was your daughter," I pointed out. "Mom, I'm nearly nineteen, and I care," I said, still watching her. "I wanna know if I need to go and kick the crap out of Ted. Because I totally could, you know."
She paused and turned to look at me for a moment, observing me. "You could, couldn't you?" she mused. "No, he didn't do anything to disgrace me, if that's what you're asking, but he was something of a..."
"Douche?" I offered.
"Well, yes," she relented. "He was a douche. We had just started our date over drinks when he began talking about the need for a threesome to happen. He didn't mind whether it was me and another woman with him, or me with him and another guy, but he wanted to make it happen. And, conveniently, he just happened to have the numbers of a man or a woman who would no doubt be game."
She folded her arms again and scowled at her point on the wall. "Needless to say, our date ended promptly. He even had the nerve to ask if I could drive him home afterward. Douche..."
"Yeah, not the best date to have gone to the trouble of shaving for, mom," I laughed before catching myself and shutting up tight. Mom's eyes widened and she blushed rather furiously.
"You heard that, hm?" she mumbled, looking at the floor now.
"I... yeah..." I admitted, feeling like an idiot now. "Seriously, though, it's not a big deal, mom. I know you're not out dating to find a new life partner, which kinda narrows down the reasoning. I mean, I'm not dating to find the right girl for the rest of my life, am I?"
"Well, of course not, but you're a horny teenage boy, you're supposed to be out trying to get laid," she sighed, gesturing somewhat helplessly with one hand. "What's my excuse?"
"You're a human being and a pretty woman with needs who likes the dopamine rush of getting laid," I reasoned. "You're not a nun, mom. Dad's been outta the picture for a long time now, and good riddance. Am I supposed to expect you to act like some uptight old spinster?"
She sighed and her posture sagged a little. "Well, no, but it's hard to admit in front of your own son that you're out there trying to get a little action. I don't want you thinking less of me."
"I wouldn't mom; I'd think there was something wrong if you weren't," I said simply. "And I'm sorry Ted turned out to be yet another douche."
"Seems to be my luck," she moped, ripple-tapping her fingers against her arm while she gazed at our floor. "So we both lost out big tonight. I'm sorry, baby. Yours didn't even get off the ground, and the choice was made for you."
"Probably for the best," I said, shrugging with both hands on my beer. "Since you were gonna be out, I'd invited Gina back here. Was planning on taking advantage of the big screen."
"Naughty boy," mom laughed. "Maybe it's just as well she cancelled, since my date was a dud, and I would've come back to see my son horizontal and superimposed with some little slag on my good carpet."
"Mom!" I laughed, shaking my head while she giggled. "Yeah, might've been awkward."
"Not to mention the hasty retreat I'd have to beat upstairs and stay locked in my bedroom until you finished," she added. "I would've already been frustrated, and knowing that two horny teens were having hot jungle-monkey sex in my living room might've made things... worse."
"Worse?" I asked.
Mom blushed again. "I date so that I don't keep killing off my battery-operated toys," she mumbled. "I have needs, you know, always had 'em."
I knew mom was rather adventurous back years ago when she met dad, but this was a weird conversation to be having a Friday night, but we were both feeling pretty raw and rather resentful, clearly. Venting was what we wanted.
So why not?
"It's gettin' on to too late for either of us to salvage the evening by going out, so we can just sit here at the table and complain," I suggested. "It's what we both wanna do, after all, shred our exes."
"But you're my son, I can't vent about that with you," she said rather uncertainly. "I mean, you don't need to know those things about me."
"Mom, I already know you shaved and didn't wear underwear tonight," I pointed out. "It beats thinkin' you're repressed somehow."
"I most certainly am not, young man," she huffed, looking somewhat indignant at the inference. "It's just a weird situation to ponder."
"Look, you can sit here and bitch about how much people suck with me, or you can go to your room and murder another toy," I pointed out. "Now at the end of the day, which is actually more therapeutic?"
She considered for a moment. "Honey, I have a lot of bitching to do. Tonight wasn't the first night Ted pissed me off. And I may start ranting about other guys as well."
"Well, just don't start crapping on me for the crime of being a guy, and it sounds like we have a good evening planned," I said with a shrug. "Come sit, I'll get you a beer, and we'll warm up some pizza."
"Pizza, beer, and complaining," she muttered, relenting and coming over to the table finally, sitting down across from me. "It's like university all over again."
"That's the spirit," I said as cheerfully as I could as I stood up and went to the fridge to get the beer I'd offered her along with leftover pizza. "Sounds like we both need it."
Half an hour later...
Mom was still grumbling, and I listened intently. She took another pull on her beer, made a face and scowled at it. "Ugh, domestic..."
I shrugged. "Y'want wine, that's something you do with girlfriends while you complain about how much men suck. We can switch to that later. I'm your son, and I offered beer."
"Fine," she said, pointing the lip of her bottle at me. "But after a few of these, you do at least one bottle of wine with me."
"Okay, fair," I said. Wine wasn't my preference, but I was perfectly capable of drinking it when called upon. "You were saying about Ted?"
"Oh right," she remembered, her countenance darkening for a moment before starting in again. "He wasn't keen on giving oral, thought it made him look effeminate. He was more than happy to receive it, mind. And the few times I did manage to get it from him? Hardly worth the effort."
"Three outta ten, would not recommend?" I chuckled.
"Let some other dumb bitch find out he's got the tongue skills of a chimp on Thorazine," she grumbled before taking another pull, and then shoving a piece of pizza into her mouth. She waved the back of her hand at me to indicate it was once again my turn. "Teh muff abouf Gifa."
"Well..." I began, considering what exactly to tell her. She was still my mom, the schoolteacher, after all, but this had been my idea, so holding back seemed unfair. "Like I said, it was easy enough to get her to skin off her panties, so there's that."
"Did you use protection, or was she on some form of birth control?" mom asked after she swallowed her pizza.
"She was on birth control, seemingly, but I always had condoms handy in case she'd had one of her flighty days and had forgotten to take the pill. I used to make her time it so that I could watch her take them at school during lunch. That way I knew she remembered."
"And then it was rawdog city?" she snickered. "Not that I blame you, Aaron, it does feel so much better without a condom in the way."
"I'll take 'things I never expect to hear from my mom' for a million, Alex," I chuckled.
"This was your idea, young man," she pointed out. "And I am indeed venting and getting things off my chest. It's not like I've started fussing over you."
"And for that I am thankful, mom," I said, raising my beer in salute.
"Besides..." she almost murmured, looking a tad awkward and blushing, "I'm a woman, and I like the feeling of a guy busting a nut inside me."
"Make that two million, Alex," I sighed, shaking my head and smirking.
We talked and vented, and I was on my fourth beer while mom was on her third. We'd killed off the leftover pizza and now I was heating up junky Chinese food. Sometimes, it was exactly what you needed, and this was one of those moments.
Mom sighed as she stirred around the noodles in her bowl with her chopsticks. "Aaron, how often do you get laid?" she asked rather quietly. "I just wanna know, because if you're the teenage average, then I wanna see how far behind the curve I am. I used to not be, after all."
I shrugged, not really bothered by the question at this point. "I mean, if I'm honest, I probably get laid a little more often than your average teen, mom, because Gina was always good to go. And what do we mean by 'getting laid' specifically? Do I need to be inside her? Does getting oral from her count in a dark classroom at school?"
Mom giggled. "Questions I've tried to never ponder about my son. Well, okay, not true, I have spent time thinking about your sex life."
"You're my mom, so that doesn't surprise or bother me," I said. "It just means you care."
"I do," she confirmed. "But back to my question. How often do you get laid? Let's define it broadly as another person giving you an orgasm directly."
I had to think about it. Finally I answered. "Well, including getting blown, then about four times a week."
"Definitely more than me, but nowhere near as big a gap as I expected," she said.
"Well, I'm kinda busy, you know," I reasoned. "And it's not like it's one-and-done orgasms, sometimes there's marathon sessions with many orgasms. But I'm lumping those all together as one 'getting laid' event."
"Oh," she murmured, blushing a little. "You must hardly ever need to take care of yourself."
I guess I was feeling unusually honest. "That's a twice-a-day thing at least for me, mom, unless I got laid, in case maybe once."
Her eyes widened at me and then she began giggling and blushing more. "I'm sorry, I forgot about how horny and virile young men can be."
"So get yourself a young man to see to your needs," I reasoned, although I never would've believed I was saying it to my mother outside of this context. "Not like I'm gonna judge you."
Mom was still giggling and blushing. "You think your old mom oughta be a cougar and go out to get fucked by a young man?"
"I mean, don't bring him home or I'll wanna beat the shit outta him," I qualified. "I know young men, after all. But it would be nice to know you're getting your needs met."
"Have you ever been with an older woman?" she asked out of the blue.
That question caught me off-guard. "What?"
"C'mon, boy," she urged, smirking. "Have you ever had sex with a cougar?"
My turn to blush.
"Oh my goodness, you have," she breathed, her eyes dancing with excitement. She leaned forward on the table and put her chin on her hands. "Tell me. No, wait!"
She drained her beer and then got up and wiggled quickly over to her wine cabinet, grabbing a bottle of red and two glasses. "This is a wine conversation, so finish your beer by the time I get back. Go go go!"
I sighed and gulped my beer, knowing there was no point in protesting. Mom was back only a moment later, uncorking the bottle and pouring into the two glasses, making them rather full. This was serious business, apparently. She pushed mine across to me.
"Now, continue," she said, taking a sip and resting her chin on her hand again. "Tell me about my little boy's trip to MILFland."
"Only if you promise to never say that again," I muttered, making her snicker. Mom thought she was the funniest person on the planet. Always had. "Fine. It was... Mrs. Marshall."
"The history teacher?!" mom gasped, looking shocked. "You fucked your history teacher?!"
"I... yeah..." I admitted, now blushing.
She regarded me curiously for a moment. "Was that the semester you were failing History and all of a sudden your grade in the class jumped for no particular reason?" she asked.
I didn't answer quickly enough, clearly, because she burst out laughing, almost spilling her wine. I'd seen my mom laugh countless times before, but not very often like this, losing control to her mirth entirely. It was quite the insight, along with everything else I was finding out about her.
"Ohhhhh, my horny and sneaky little boy," she almost wheezed, her eyes shining, almost glistening with tears of mirth. "You fucked your way to an A? I'm so proud of you, Aaron!"
I waited while mom kept snickering, not feeling irked so much as slightly needled. "Well, didn't you ever fuck someone to get what you needed?" I asked rather pointedly.
Mom finally arrested her laughter and stared at me, trying to decide if she could tell me. "Well, yes," she admitted finally. "More than a few times when I was younger, and mayyyyybe sometimes since then, possibly once or twice at work to nick a project or outcome I wanted."
She blushed a little. "Not ashamed of me for that, are you?"
"Hell no," I replied, shaking my head. "You get shit done, mom. It's just sex, right?"
"How many times did you have to boff Mrs. Marshall to get that A, baby?" she asked, going back to smirking.
"Well, three times," I copped. "Once might've done it, but I was enjoying it, gotta admit."
"And with a married woman, too," mom breathed, fanning herself. "My slutty li'l boy."
"Thanks, mom," I muttered. "You ever been the other woman?"
The air went dead as she heard the question. Had I gone too far?
"Yes," she said finally. "Well, maybe, depends on how you define 'the other woman', really. I've had no-strings sex with a married person or two, but I was never involved in some torrid affair that would destroy a marriage. What your father did hits too close to home for that to happen."
"Sorry," I said, shaking my head. "You know I resent the Hell outta him too, mom. If I could give him a kidney boulder in his dick, I would."
"Well, that's more merciful than the leprosy I've wished on his dick," she said simply, waving it off. "But yes, I've had the occasional sexual interaction with a married person behind the scenes. Not necessarily proud of it, but to the best of my knowledge, no harm done."
"Well that's good," I said, nodding. "And now I don't... married person, mom?"
Mom said nothing.
"Married men, you mean," I ventured.
Mom stayed tight-lipped.
It was some seconds before I spoke again, calculating and permutating. "Mom, are... are you bi?"
Mom finally sighed and sagged, nodding. "Yes, Aaron, and I guess I always have been. I was having sex with girls before I'd been with a guy, in fact."
"Huh, cool," I mused, nodding.
Mom raised an eyebrow. "Cool?"
"Well, yeah," I replied, shrugging now. "My mom's bisexual."
"Is this some sort of bragging right in the locker room?" she asked levelly. I could tell her tone was getting dangerous, which wasn't unusual for her, but was no doubt ramped by the beer, wine, and the confessional of the past hour.
I shook my head. "No, mom, nothing like that," I assured her. "I just meant that I really don't care if you're straight, gay, or bi. Fact of the matter is, you being bi increases your chances of getting laid, which is good, and if you're having sex with other women, then I don't need to worry about guys getting my mom dirty."
"Aaron," she said in a chiding mutter, blushing furiously. "I can look after myself, you know."
"I know, but I'm a guy, and since you're related to me, I'm still kinda possessive of you," I reasoned. "I don't want slimy guys or boys getting their creep on with you."
"But it's okay if girls do it," she said rather flatly. It was a dare to answer.
"Mom, we're not dating or married, you're not getting me in an inescapable trap like this, that's strictly for husbands and boyfriends," I laughed.
"Sorry," she mumbled before looking at me. "So you wouldn't blink if I went out with women? Women tend to be a little more complicated, more prone to finding relationships instead of just no-commitment sex."
I shrugged again. "So forget women and find girls my age, they would be in it just for the orgasm."
"Here we go with the cougar thing again," she sighed, shaking her head before looking at me. "Are you bi, Aaron?"
"No," I said, shaking my head now, almost leaping at the answer in order to defend my masculinity, but refraining. I just answered, sensing she wouldn't care if I was, just like I didn't care if she liked women too. "Straight as the day is long, not that it matters. I think a few of my buddies are bi or bi-curious. I told them whatever, I support you, just don't give me the gory deets."
Mom giggled now. "Such a man. At least you're accepting of other people, though. Have you ever had a side girl?"
I paused awkwardly. "Yeah. Well, even when I was with Gina, I might've gotten some action from another girl."
"Oh? Who?" she asked, her mouth forming a cute little 'o'. Mom had great dick-sucking lips, I realized. And now that I was finding out about her sexual history, maybe I had no business being surprised.
"Annie Clement," I admitted. "Remember her?"
"But she comes from that really uptight religious family," mom said, clearly more than a little surprised. "How on earth did you get her to have sex with you?"
"Well, getting her to wasn't difficult, and mostly wasn't my idea," I answered. "Have you heard the rumour that her parents had her clipped when she was becoming a teen?"
Mom nodded. "Heard it, heard worse. Some of the moms kept whispering that they had her sewn shut to keep her chaste."
"The clipped part is true, she's had a tubal ligation," I continued. "The other part defo isn't true. Privately, she was outraged that they'd done that to her, and one day she saw me getting changed in an unused classroom. She wanted me to take her, just to defy her parents, which I did. Kinda repeatedly after that, until they moved away."
"Good on her and good on you," mom mused, nodding. "Horrible thing to do to a girl. They probably screwed her hormones up for life. Did Gina ever find out?"
I shook my head. "Maybe she wouldn't've cared, I dunno. But she never did, and Annie wasn't in a position to get into a relationship, so keeping everything on the DL was what she wanted in any event."
"That's fair," mom said, smiling. "I guess we've both had our secrets, hm?"
I nodded. "As sucky as this night began, I think it turned out pretty good, mom. I know you better now, and I'm kinda happy about it."
"Me too, baby," mom sighed, letting out a satisfied sigh-squeak, stretching her arms over her head, which had the effect of thrusting her tits forward inside her silk blouse,. I guess she didn't remember I was there, and I stopped staring a microsecond before she opened her eyes. "All the wine and food has made me really sleepy, and the conversation kinda randy. I think I'll go upstairs and take care of something before bed."
I nodded and came around to pull out her chair for her. She smiled at me warmly and gave me a close hug, her face buried in my shoulder. My hands were on her back, and I hoped she couldn't feel the swelling beginning in my pants. That'd be bad.
"Thank you, baby," she whispered. "What are you going to do now?"
"Probably watch TV," I answered, not sure I was being all that truthful.
She looked up at me now, a bit of a smirk on her face. "What, no urges to see to after a dud date earlier tonight?"
"Oh, that's just me being a teenage boy, mom," I chuckled. "My whole left arm could be lopped off, but as long as I have my right hand, nothing's gonna stop that."
Mom giggled and patted the flats of her hands against my chest gently, almost as if patting on a drum. "Naughty. I love you, Aaron, I'll see you in the morning."
"Love you too, mom," I said, nodding. "See you in the morning."
She kissed me on the cheek close to my mouth and then made her way out of the kitchen toward the stairs. She paused in the doorway and turned her head. "It's Saturday tomorrow, no work for me. Have you got anything planned?"
I shook my head. "Nope. Maybe casual gaming, but nothing solid or exciting."
She considered. "Then maybe we'll spend some more time together and I'll find out more about what kind of a perv my li'l studmuffin boy has been."
"I'll bring the beer, you bring the wine," I said, grinning.
Mom nodded and continued out, a bit of a wiggle in her walk. I leaned back against the coffee table for a moment and sighed heavily. I shook my head to try and clear it of the alcohol haze and reflect back on the past two hours. I sure as Hell hadn't expected any of that, although I wasn't displeased, either. I loved my mom, and knowing more about her just made me feel like things were okay.
Mom liking women and having extramarital sex were eye-openers, and I guess I was relieved that she didn't kill me for admitting I'd fucked my married History teacher. My sex habits seemed to be of no concern to her, as long as I was careful, so there was another plus. I'd never thought my mom was a prude, of course, I'd heard her telling naughty jokes for years. But how sexual she actually was came as a bit of a surprise. Maybe after what dad did, she sort of buried her former life and history away from me.
Did she really want to continue this conversation with me? It seemed weird, at first, since she had female friends she could have gripe-sessions with, probably to better effect. And I sure as Hell never had bitch sessions with my buddies about this sort of thing. No guy did that.
So why was I looking forward to possibly doing this again with my own mother?
I shook my head again and went into the entertainment room, turning on the television. I kept the volume down, since mom was likely to be trying to sleep, after she finished, well... what she needed to take care of. I stretched out on the chesterfield and began watching some mindless Baywatch rerun, when I heard the slight rattle of pipes in the ceiling.
Mom was in her bathroom, taking a shower.
I tried to concentrate on the TV, even searching for a different show that might hold my interest, but I was finding myself increasingly distracted. And admitting why was proving difficult.
No. Don't do it.
"Dammit..." I muttered quietly as I put down the remote and got up. I took my shoes off and headed upstairs as quietly as possible, hoping I couldn't be heard.
Mom's bedroom had its own en suite bathroom. I approached her room and took a quick peek around the corner, hoping I was being sneaky. The room was dark, except for two small lamps providing a warm glow, and she had two scented candles burning, smelling like... I dunno, roses or patchouli or some shit.
The important thing was, the room was empty, and she'd left the door to her bathroom mostly open. I could hear the shower now, the water beating down. I heard her sigh, meaning she was in the shower, and it was safe for me to get closer. I slipped into the bedroom and got close to the bathroom door, listening as I hid around the corner.
Mom's sighs of contentment from being under the water soon changed to other sounds, such as prolonged moans.
Holy shit, mom was masturbating in there? I know she'd said she might take care of things, but for her to actually do it after telling me...
I guess I didn't blame her, after her date failed so hard, and I remember she'd been complaining when she got home about shaving her pussy and not wearing panties for the event. The thought of my mom's pussy being shaved gave me a stir I wasn't expecting. I listened quietly as she began working herself, her breathing getting louder, punctuated by the occasional gasp.
I was flattened against the wall beside her door, looking out at her bedroom, but I was wanting to see more. Could I possibly get a look in without her noticing?
Mom's shower doors were lightly frosted glass, so nothing was clearly visible except silhouettes, I knew this already. Across from the shower stall was her big sink and the long vanity mirror. I might be able to see in that reflection. The frosting would keep her from seeing me in the mirror (I hoped).
I turned my head and glanced around the corner, looking at the mirror.
Sure enough, I could see mom's form behind the glass. It was almost as if were was a mosaic, like one of those censored Japanese porn clips. I could see she was almost writhing now, what I assumed was an arm moving across her chest (and no doubt her breasts), while the other was moving back and forth between her legs. Mom was sighing and moaning quietly.
Wow, lookit her go. Damn, mom.
Then she stopped, and I panicked that maybe she'd seen or sensed me, but I was making no noise, and my logical brain reminded me that there was no way in Hell she could see me in her mirror. I steeled myself and kept watching, perhaps leaning in a little more to get a fuller view.
I saw mom turn around in the space, facing away from the shower jets now, toward the back wall.
"Well, hello, there..." she lilted, followed by a giggle.
I frowned, knowing she had nobody in there with her. Who the Hell was she talking to? I looked harder, trying to see by her. The mirror was not proving much help, and I finally took a chance and darted silently across the door to the other side, which allowed me to look directly at the shower. As long as my face stayed in the dark and wasn't illuminated by her bathroom lights, I'd be fine.
Mom got down on her knees, and that's when I noticed something that was rather dark on the back wall. It was hard to discern, seeming little more than a discoloured lump to me, at around her hip level.
Mom leaned in and with some moans began kissing something.
Fuck, mom, is that a suction cup dildo?!
The kissing morphed into something else, and I could just see the shape of her head begin bobbing back and forth, punctuated by her moans as she pleasured her toy. I was spellbound as I watched, mom blissfully unaware of my presence. I could make out the shape of her back and her toned ass somewhat, sitting on her heels while she made oral love to the dildo. I guess mom's dick-sucking lips were getting plenty of practice.
I darted back a bit as she stood and turned around again, but kept watching her. She then took hold of the chrome support bar she had in the shower and unlatched it, pulling it across the space to latch against the opposite wall. She now leaned forward on it, bracing herself before wiggling backward and groaning, clearly taking the dildo inside herself.
Mom, really?! I thought you had those bars installed for grandma's safety when she visited! That's what you always told me!
I guess they were dual-purpose. Gran only visited maybe twice a year, so the bar apparatus was clearly not left to languish the rest of the time.
Mom wasted no time in beginning to pump back and forth, leaning over to an almost ninety-degree angle while she braced herself against the bar. More panting and gasping now, and I could make out the vague shapes of her tits swinging and wobbling below her.
My cock was swelling in my pants, and there was no denying why. I gripped it and gave it a squeeze as I watched, almost hypnotized by what I was seeing. Mom kept pumping against her toy, hissing and whispering to herself, words I could only barely hear.
"Gn! Yes! Ahhhh, right there... fuuuuuck..."
I kept squeezing myself, knowing I didn't dare whip if it out and stroke, but once I was back in the privacy of my room, I knew I was going to town on the ol' hog.
I did myself one better and pulled out my phone, carefully angling it to catch everything happening with the camera and hitting 'Record'. I resolved to feel guilty sometime later.
"Gnnnnnnnnn!" mom strained as I recorded her. "Fuck me! Fuck me! Make me cum!"
While it never occurred to me that mom didn't swear, hearing her do it in the throes of private passion was new. I watched in a trance as she arched her spine and pushed back as hard as she could, making a keening sound before shuddering and sagging against the sturdy chrome bars that kept her from collapsing to the shower floor. I could hear her panting, her lovely body in profile and on display.
I kept watching and finally she move forward, shivering and gasping as the dildo popped out of her. I could see its vague form wobble as it left her. Mom leaned on her bar, composing herself, her face on her forearms. Finally, though, she reached under herself, and I thought she intended to stroke and massage her pussy to bring herself down.
Wrong...
She reached past herself and took hold of the dildo. Then she wiggled around, moving back, and I noticed a bit of a knee bend on her part. She was still holding the dildo when she began pushing, and a tiny grunt escaped her, followed by a squeak.
No way...
"Ohhhhhhhhh..." she hissed as she pushed back until her ass cheeks were flattened against the back wall. "Yesssssssssss..."
My mom had just taken her dildo into her ass.
I was... stunned.
She began by flexing her knees up and down slightly, still braced on her bar. Then she began a slow squirming and grinding motion, letting out another moan. Finally, she was moving back and forth again, having adjusted to the invader. And now the show began in earnest.
Mom was grunting and panting now, mumbling to herself. Her blurred form was swaying almost rhythmically, her opulent breasts moving with her.
"Fuck... fuck..." she panted, lifting one foot and resting it on the side of the stall. I wished I'd had an uncensored view. "Ohhhhh, fuck that's good... fuck me hard..."
I don't know if she was imagining anyone, but I couldn't help imagining myself behind her, plowing in and out of that toned, tight ass. I squeezed my dick, which was a raging hard-on by now, uncomfortable inside the confines of my jeans. I wanted to set it free, but I was still recording and didn't dare in any event. I'd simply have to wait until the show was over.
Mom kept pumping and fucking the dildo, getting louder with her pants and moans. Before long, I would've been able to hear her in the hallway, since she'd left her door open. She was moving faster, fucking like a champ, better than any slut teen girl I'd ever been with. This was completely unreal, and she was getting more vocal.
Then she seized up again, clapping one of her hands over her mouth tight and shrieking into it as she was rocked by yet another orgasm. The phone was almost shaking in my hands as I tried to compose myself, almost cumming in my pants.
Mom sank to her knees finally, the dildo popping out of her ass loudly enough for me to hear and to make her gasp. She was breathing heavily, like she'd just run a marathon, her face on her forearms again. She was whispering and mumbling to herself, but I wasn't close enough to hear anything. Whatever it was, I'd never know, I guess.
She finally pushed herself to her feet and with a sigh, turned around and looked down at her toy.
"See what you're missing out on, Ted, you prick?" she announced in a rather self-satisfied voice before she gave the dildo a punitive swat, making it wobble back and forth. I restrained a chuckle and watched as mom stretched again, letting out a satisfied sigh-squeak, as she apparently was wont to do. Then she moved the bar back to its original position and wiggled up to turn off the shower. That was my cue to leave.
I made it no farther than the hallway, stopping to listen as she got out of her shower. I heard her humming to herself, as she stepped out.
"Oh, fucking Hell," I heard her say to herself. "I left the damn door open. Poor Aaron, I hope he didn't hear me..."
I thought about it and then quietly hurried back downstairs to the chesterfield, where I stretched out and began watching TV again. Another mindless show was on, and I zoned out, trying to pacify the steel bar in my jeans. I heard the padding of feet on the stairs and shifted one leg slightly, concealing the predicament in my pants. This proved damned uncomfortable and I was at a loss for what to do.
I just went for broke and turned onto my back and pretended to be asleep, my head turned to the side. Yes, mom'd see my huge boner in my jeans, but with any luck, she'd think I was having a sexy dream. I was committed now, so I'd just have to wait and see what happened.
Mom came quietly into the entertainment room and looked down at me. I couldn't see her, since my eyes were closed, but I knew she was staring at me.
"Goodness, baby," she mused in a soft voice, her voice tinged with amusement. "What kind of a dream are you having?"
I heard her kneel and then it was quiet again.
"Lucky girls, whoever they are," she lilted. Then she took the remote from beside my head and turned off the television. She found a blanket and put it over me before leaning in and kissing my forehead so very gently.
"Goodnight, my li'l prince," she whispered before standing up and making her way out of the room. I heard her head back upstairs and then all was silent again. I opened my eyes and sighed heavily. Eventually, I'd need to go to my room, because all my jerking off supplies were in there, and I wasn't about to risk getting spooge on mom's carpet if I got too eager.
room talk with my buddies, and that can get pretty stupid and crass."
She nodded thoughtfully. "It's not much different with the other ladies in the locker room at the gym, I admit. Maybe it's just so refreshing to have you to be honest with."
"You know you don't have to if it makes you uncomfortable, right, mom?" I offered. I wanted her to stay comfortable, of course, but I wasn't going to keep pressing and force it on her.
"Oh, I know," she said, nodding as she put some paprika on her eggs before getting into them. "Trust me, if you said anything I didn't like, you'd have a warm bottom so quickly, young man. You'll never be too old that I can't take you over my knee."
"Noted," I laughed, enjoying our banter and hoping it would continue. She looked at her orange juice again thoughtfully. "Baby, thank you for the juice, but I have an idea for something even better. Are you game?"
I shrugged and nodded. Mom got up from the table and wiggled over to her wine rack. She bent over as she seemed to count her way down the bottles, and not staring at her ass under that robe was absolutely impossible. Did she even realize she was showing it to me?
Her butt perked up for a moment as she found whatever she was looking for, and she turned and wiggled back to the table holding a bottle and two glass champagne flutes. "Do you know what a mimosa is, Aaron?"
"Uhhhh, isn't it champagne and OJ?" I posited.
Mom nodded. "Right, champagne or sparkling wine, at least. But it's a drink that's meant to go with a lavish breakfast, it gets served a lot on Mother's Day."
I nodded. "I remember them serving it to you complimentary when we went to that nice restaurant for breakfast on Mother's Day a few years ago. Is it good?"
"It's delicious, in fact," she said, opening the bottle and then pouring orange juice into the flutes before topping them with the bubbly. "Let's celebrate being rid of assholes in our lives with some morning drinking, okay?"
"Well, if you say so," I said, taking the drink from her as she pushed it to me.
"Hey, it's champagne, so it's classy," she pointed out, now holding out her glass. "To life without douchebags and slags."
"To my mom, who's been a real eye-opener for the last twelve hours," I laughed, clinking my glass gently against hers and then sipping. Mom just knocked hers back like a pro.
"We'll only get about three glasses each out of this, so no point in holding back," she said as she refilled her glass.
I chuckled and drained mine, letting her refill it. We then attacked our food, since we were both very hungry. Mom ate about as readily as I did, and I had to admit, I was surprised. Those orgasms must've really fired up her metabolism.
"God, I'm gonna have to run a marathon to keep all this food from going to my waist and my bum," she said, but she kept eating. "Does all the lacrosse, hockey, and pickup basketball really help you burn off all those carbs you take in?"
"Seems to," I said easily, chewing on some bacon. "It sure ain't from sitting in my chair playing Call of Duty with the guys."
"Call it a hunch," mom agreed. "Speaking of, are you going to be online all day?"
I thought about that. "Mom, only if I'm not spending the day with you, because I'd rather do that."
Mom's turn to think about what I'd said. "You would?"
I nodded. "Mom, I enjoyed last night, and before you came home, I was really pissed off and grumpy. We made each other feel better. If I go and play my games, I'm just hiding. Last night, I got to vent and complain and tell off my bitch of an ex, at least to you. And I'm guessing you felt the same."
I looked at her levelly. "I would much rather continue where we left off last night and get it out of my system than just avoid thinking about it. I don't care if it takes today and tomorrow. If you're game for it, I am too."
"I guess I can't believe you'd wanna spend time with your tired old mom," she said.
"Tired old mom?" I almost blurted. "The woman who made this feast this morning? The same woman who I just found out is bisexual and not above extramarital sex and prefers to not use condoms? Who the Hell is this 'tired old mom' you're talking about? Because I don't see her anywhere."
Mom blushed. "Thank you, baby," she said quietly. "That's very kind of you to say. I guess... I guess last night's little debacle with Ted rattled my self-confidence, you know?"
"Mom, pardon my French, but Ted's a fucking moron," I said firmly. "It's good that he dumped you, and I'm betting he only suggested that threesome thing as a diversion. He couldn't keep up with you in bed, could he?"
Mom blushed again. "Well, seemingly not."
"Then you're better off without him," I announced.
"Just like you're better off without Gina?" she asked, looking for parity.
I nodded. "I'll find some other girl who doesn't mind getting naked for me."
"That should take you all of fifteen minutes," mom quipped, winking at me. "You're such a charmer, after all."
We continued eating, and sure enough, we each got three drinks out of the champagne bottle. Three mimosas is nowhere near enough to get either mom or I drunk, or even buzzed, but the mood was certainly as light as the fizzy drink itself. Once we'd eaten our fill, I cleaned the table quickly and then got ready to do the dishes.
"Let's do them together," mom suggested. "Been forever since we've done that."
I nodded and made room for her at the sink, but I insisted on washing while she rinsed and dried. We kept bantering and talking about silly things, and toward the end of the chore, mom reached up a suds-covered hand and wiped it across my lower face, giving me a bubbly goatee. I retaliated by turning the small sink hose on her and gave her a quick blast of warm water. Mom squealed and danced away while I laughed.
She turned and mock-glared at me, her eyes dancing with mirth. The front of her robe was soaked and clung to her curvaceous body enticingly, although I'm not sure she noticed.
"You little brat," she giggled. "Finish up while I go change into something dry..."
I chuckled to myself as I finished putting everything away and then waited by the sink. I didn't know if I was supposed to go get changed as well, but since mom hadn't said anything, I simply waited in my boxers and t-shirt, which was very often my weekend attire, at least in the morning. It never bothered mom that I walked around like a teenage slob boy, as long as I didn't smell bad.
She was back soon enough, having changed into another robe, this one kind of scarlet, and rather shorter than the first. She seemed to have tied the top a little tighter this time. More of her long legs were on display, not that I had a problem with this. Little Aaron didn't mind either, once I felt him stir.
"Okay, before I get any closer to you, back away from the sink jet, sir," mom said in a mock-stern tone, but with a smirk on her pretty face and pointing at me. I chuckled and stepped forward away from the sink, and mom came and wrapped me up in another hug, not noticing (or maybe not caring) that the hug around my shoulders raised the hem of her robe and now her panties were pressing against my boxers.
"I can't believe you want to spend the day with me," she murmured, her face next to mine. "All moms want to hear that occasionally from their sons."
I kept holding her, risking the awakening of the python. "I suppose as long as we don't spend all our time painting our toenails and eating away our feelings with Ben and Jerry's."
Mom giggled before pulling back slightly from the hug to poke me in the nose, another smirk on her pretty face. "After that breakfast, I don't know when I'll even want to eat again before Monday. But if we're not painting our nails and crying over boys, what are we doing? Let me hear your pitch, darling."
I already had my answer. "I wanna spend the whole day drinking beer or wine or whatever, and talk shit about our exes, and whoever else pisses us off."
"Baby, you're only eighteen, how many people can possibly have pissed you off yet?" mom asked.
"Well, okay, narrowing it down to girls who have wronged me, don't worry about the thirteen-year-old boys who piss me off on CoD," I qualified.
Mom giggled. "You should teach me to be a good player and then I'll tell them they all got their asses kicked by a mom. Still, are there that many girls who've hurt you?"
I shrugged. "Susie Langston in Grade Three promised to kiss me and then never did, I was mad about that."
Mom snickered. "That little hussy. But if we use this yardstick, chances are I'm gonna be the one doing most of the venting. I have more exes than you do, by two decades and change."
"I promise to keep it even," I assured her. "Now, did you find my suggestion acceptable? Any riders you wanna add?"
Mom did some thinking. "Well, if we're gonna be at this most of the day, we'll need to switch up the location to keep it from being boring."
I tilted my head. "Locations like what?"
Mom shrugged. "We started at the little coffee table last night, so we move on from there, of course. There's the dining table, the living room, the hot tub..."
"You wanna talk shit about our exes in the hot tub?" I asked in amazement.
"That's the best place to do it," mom reasoned. "You're luxuriating in a hot tub and drinking champagne, and they're somewhere not with you, which sucks for them."
"Well, not like I've never shared the hot tub with you before," I concluded with a shrug. "Okay, mom, lead on. You're the expert at this for the day."
Mom nodded and took me by the hand, leading me into the entertainment room. She gestured for me to sit on the chesterfield and smiled down at me. "We've had champagne, morning calls for beer, right? Is it too early for beer?"
"Mom, I'm an eighteen-year-old boy who's not quite nineteen yet," I laughed. "Pretty sure I'm never gonna turn down beer, no matter what time of day it is. Besides, it's happy hour somewhere, right?"
"Point," she said, nodding at me. "I've done more than my fair share of day drinking since your sucking chest wound of a father left me."
"Left us," I corrected. "I resent the Hell out of him too, mom, never doubt that."
Mom knelt down on the chesterfield and wrapped me up in a hug, trembling. "I know, baby," she whispered. "I'll try not to vent too much about him today, okay?"
"It's okay, mom," I assured her, hugging her back and trying to ignore the feel of her tits squashed down onto my chest. "I love you."
"I love you too, Aaron," she said, kissing me on the cheek and then getting back up, smiling again. "Let me go get some beer, but this time, craft. No domestic crap like Molson or Labatt."
"Okay, but no IPAs either," I called after her. "I don't have a man bun or own a Shih Tzu, after all."
I could hear mom giggling as she rummaged around in the cold storage, where we actually kept decent brews. I hadn't made it into that unit last night because I was in a foul enough mood that I just grabbed the closest bottle available, which happened to be Molson. Soon enough, mom returned with an eight-pack of Creemore.
"Lager, nice," I mused as mom handed me a bottle. Normally you needed a bottle opener, but I simply twisted mine off.
"Ooh, do it again," mom said, passing me her bottle. Pity you've got a shirt on, I could see your pecs flexing under the material as you did that."
I laughed and pulled off my shirt long enough to make a show of flexing my pecs and my core while twisting the cap off mom's bottle and then handing it to her.
up her mom, and you told me none of my business. I think that's where we left off."
"Ah, yes," she said nodding. "We were discussing my lezzie activity, right?"
"Indirectly, maybe," I allowed. "I'm just having a great time finding out about you."
"Bet you are," she said, smirking again. She pointed out me with her champagne flute. "Your turn. 'fess up to something."
"Like what?" I queried. "I told you, never done anything with another guy, so I can't match your lesbian antics."
Mom made a face. "Never done anything? Never stood in a corner and shown one another your pee-pees?"
I screwed up my face and shook my head. "Not that I remember, mom. For real."
"Wow, I thought all young guys did that," she mused. "Sorta like how all young girls compare boobs and practice kissing."
"Sorry to burst the bubble," I said simply, shrugging.
"Okay, lemme try again," she said. "Ummmmm... oh! Have you even been in a threesome or foursome?"
My eyes widened slightly. I can't believe my mom asked me that. "What is this, truth or dare?"
"If that's what it takes to get an answer out of you," she replied. "Either answer truthfully, or I'm gonna give you a dare."
I swallowed again. Looked like I owed her an answer. After a deep breath, I replied. "Yeah. I've done the threesome."
Mom actually seemed surprised. "Really? My little boy's been in a threesome?"
"Few of them, actually," I admitted, trying to not blush. Thankfully the water was hot, so I could hopefully pass it off as my skin reacting to the water. "I think... four of them? Yeah, four."
"Goodness," mom said, fanning herself for effect. "Did not expect that. Then again, turns out you're a hardbody who doesn't mind fucking his history teacher, so maybe I've got no business being surprised. Got any details you might wanna share?"
"Isn't that a different question and a different truth?" I asked.
Mom sighed. "Yeah, technically, but chances are we might get a bit shitfaced, Aaron, and then we might not even remember to ask the question. So the rule is, if we're answering a truth, we have to follow up with some sort of satisfactory explanation, okay?"
"Well, okay," I agreed uncertainly. "I'll try, but... what do you wanna know?"
"Just the basics," she said simply. "Where were you, who was involved..."
"Ah, well," I said, nodding and trying to answer her. "I was at a party for one of them. Me and two girls I met, we found a bathroom nobody seemed to be using and we kinda went at it."
Mom nodded. "Just the two of them concentrating on you, or were they also lezzing out?"
I chuckled, still unable to believe I was having this conversation with my own mother. "They were goin' to town on one another too. But we kept it pretty even, I like to think. It was a good time, for my first threesome. So, your turn, mom. Truth or dare?"
"Oh, well," mom breathed, blushing a little herself now. "I want a few more drinks in me before I accept any dares. So truth."
I was about to ask my question but she stopped me by pointing with her champagne glass. "And no copycat questions. You can't just ask me if I've ever had a threesome now. That's cheap. Make sure you try harder."
"Okay," I allowed, recalibrating. "Ummmmm... okay, what's the most number of people you've had sex with at once?"
Now mom actually blushed, furiously. "Oh, God," she mumbled, turning her head and looking down at the water. "Why would you ask me that?"
"I thought that was the game," I reasoned. "So either answer truthfully, or accept a dare."
Mom closed her eyes for some time before answering. "I... do you know about that sex club downtown?"
"Shangri-La? Yeah," I replied. "Never been to it, but I know of it. Always wondered."