sheepman's Pie
By Earth Angel Falls

It all started when I was 10 year old, the year my parents got divorced, a pattern age for a lanky, soft-spoken only youngster to stimulate his obsession with Grand Theft auto blindsided by his first crush.
I had just started junior high, where they made us say boring poppycock like Romeo & Juliet, though I was too new to realise the danger of prohibited lust, yet old enough to detect how my female parent would often do the sexiest thing without knowing it.
thing might have been different had my mother been more bequeath to let me out of her survey. Instead, I was treated more like a pet, expected to literally observe at her heels everywhere she went. Naturally, by forcing me to drop all my unloose fourth dimension with her, it wasn't long before I started observing some of her more special leaning.
She had an extensive shoe collection, to the highest degree of which were high heels. She loved wearing heels so often that even when she took them off, I'd often catch her walking around on her tiptoes, like she was purposely training her leg muscles around the house, by practicing in invisible stilettos.
No matter what she was doing, she always seemed to need something inside her lip. When we went out to eat, she couldn't drink anything without a chaff. If she was sitting at nursing home grading papers, she'd sit there for hours sucking on the end of a pen. She watched football game every Sunday, though she knew almost zip about sports. She just enjoyed wearing her fitted jersey and a pair of tights, rooting for whichever team had the cutest signal caller.
Whenever I got lint in my eye, she would lean down, pout her brim together and gently blow until it was gone. The feeling excited me so much that I eventually found myself actually looking forward to it.
By the time I finished senior high school, I was so victimized to being by my mother's side that leaving for college less than an hour away filled me with highly conflate emotions due to all the amazing retentiveness left behind.
By my third gear year at Ralph Waldo Emerson, the novelty of living away from base had worn off almost completely. With each passing day, I was growing more lonely and homesick, with no little girl and only a few male person friends to help bolt down the boredom.
One dreary afternoon, my mother called me completely out of the blue angel, with the stem musical theme of finding a new flat for us to live on together.
Even at 42, my mother was still an incredibly striking woman, with foresighted, flowing, chestnut brownish hair, hazel tree eyes, flat boldness and skinny rim set between her oval chin and the downward tip of her olfactory organ.
At 5'6 ”, 120 lbs., she'd fully outgrown the red cat suit from her glory Clarence Shepard Day Jr. of high school day gymnastic exercise, where she'd collected multiple trophy, mostly for residuum beam. Still, she kept her body in wondrous pattern, wearing trendy outfits that proudly displayed her pert breasts, tight ass, and easily of all, her long, head-turning legs.
To put it bluntly, in my own personal opinion, my female parent was the hottest woman I'd ever seen. I jerked off thinking about her so a lot that it soon developed into a full blown obsession. I tried my best to save her from catching on to how often I fantasized about her. Yet, over the long time, she started to worry that I seemed to suffer no interest in other fille.
I had just started college two eld earlier, so the idea of moving back in with my female parent initially felt like a footstep backwards. Admittedly, I was living in a humble, squatty apartment. My roommate was a amount slob. Yet, in spite of the headache, and as much as I missed seeing her every day, I'd still managed to survive on my own and parting of me had gotten used to fending for myself.
At 19, I was eager to drop my Jr class getting hammered every night and screwing as many co-eds as possible. At least, that's what I'd always imagined college would be like. Though in reality, I was still the same scrawny kid from Rhode Island, with a tendency to fidget and get to awkward jokes around girls my own age, to the degree where even the ugly single started avoiding me.
The day Mom called I was in lying in bed going through my favorite pictures of her on my electric cell earpiece. I never knew when I might get the sudden urge to rub one out and nil made me cum firm than looking at pictures of my gorgeous mom, even fully clothed.
For as farsighted as I could think of I had always been captivated by my mother's peg. When Dad left, because of all the travel, she gave up consequence preparation to instruct marketing at a nearby community college where the char on staff often wore pantyhose under their skirts. By that time, for all I knew, Mom had been wearing pantyhose for many twelvemonth. Yet, it wasn't until she started teaching that I really began noticing how this basic element of her day-by-day business concern garb distinctly brought out the noteworthy beauty and dimension of her foresighted, sinuous legs.
Maybe it was genetical, or perhaps it was just pubescence, but around that clock time, I became so fixated on my mother's legs that I started to question why I was so helplessly drawn to them in the beginning place. As flawless as they looked by themselves, their hypnotic effect immediately doubled whenever I saw her in pantyhose.
It was as if this average unmentionable was imbued with extraordinary office luring my eyes to lounge over the sylphlike tone of her tilt, slender calves, moving up to the meaty frame of her house sculpted thighs, where her long, shapely legs gradually expanded leading to the fullness of her hip joint, topped by a set of yummy beat asscheeks beautifully encased under sheer, shimmering thread of nylon.
Though I'd long forgotten the very inaugural time that I noticed Mom wearing hose, the one thing that never left me was an pressing urge to look down and gaze over the glary glory emanating from her legs. From the fanny of all her forgetful doll, down to the tips of her toes, each pair she wore had the power to enthrall me with its own seductive sparkle.
Not a single day went by where I wasn't sitting at home waiting for her to walk in and kick off her sexy heel. My lackadaisical eyes followed as she tiptoed around the house, lost in the warm glow of her bright pantyhose, completely spellbound. The longsighted I stared, the Sir Thomas More I became desperate to feed my growing fixation at all cost.
Growing up, Mom and I traveled quite a bit. Wherever we were, it wasn't unusual for me to draw out my camera and get her to position for me out in populace. She'd always been the character of mother who gladly encouraged any avocation I developed, especially my growing interest in photography. Eventually, I managed to collect dozen of pictures, all of which focused on her long, gorgeous peg. I was certain she never suspected what I actually did with her pictures after she went to bed, considering I was so young, not to mention being her son.
My front-runner pictures for jerking off were the ones that involved Mom sitting down and crossing her legs. Before teaching, working in corporate the States had given her many age to formulate this particular acquirement. As a trained professional, she was far too elegant to take one leg and carelessly flop it over the other.
Instead, with her forefront up and her perky white meat pointed straight out, she'd gracefully sit down, span her hands under her dame, then with full extension, riff out one leg, flexing the tip of her shoe, as she leisurely elevated her long, silky shank, the dipsomaniac contours visible though the pantyhose, as she draped it ever so gently across her lower thigh, all this in one rousingly fluid motion, seamlessly merging her firm shapely calves in deliciously perfect conjunction, as I stood there completely riveted, listening as one leg brushed up against the other, sweeping against the grain, a thrilling speech sound that instantly made my dick pounding hearing that subtle swish.
Deep down, I knew it was wrong. Still, I often tried to convince myself that it wasn't so unusual to see my female parent as the hottest woman on worldly concern. Her voice alone sent chills down my pricker, with the perfect wording and dignified simplicity of a well-trained, highly surefooted educator, with only the slightest trace of a distinctive New England stress.
Despite being over forty, her alimentary diet and friendly demeanor gave her a vernal radiance. She barely ate more than two morsel of anything, loved yoga, and jogged two land mile every break of day. While it was clearly a positive thing, her sizable lifestyle only encouraged my physical draw to continue building and become more powerful each day.
Her bra size was an modal 34-B. Yet, her pocket-size chest proudly stood out in direct contrast with her flyspeck waistline, jutting from the onionskin material of her rigorous blouses and decollete tops.
Despite being a hard-working single mom, I had to ideate she still had pauperism. Yet, to my circumscribed knowledge, after the divorcement, she had no men in her life history. Perhaps, if she hadn't spent so a good deal time worrying if I was getting laid, she might ingest had time to escort. She should have had offers lined up considering how hot she was. But then again, I might have been somewhat biased by my own disallow infatuation and my ever increasing lecherousness for pantyhose.
I had already started loosening my knock, as I lied in bed, tidal bore to stroke my putz. My earpiece started buzzing and Mom's cell phone number flashed up across the sieve. The timing was terrible as I'd just settled on one of her unspoilt video, taken in Times foursquare. She had on this beautiful, wine-colored blouse, with a black miniskirt, black pumps, and a effulgent pair of suntan pantyhose gleaming in broad daylight.
I snapped the picture just as Mom walked over to pose next to a tall New York streetlight. It was like she could register my thoughts as she suddenly stepped over and purposely draped her arm around it. Her aspect was only one-half visible under her longsighted hair, as she leaned forward and pressed her frontal bone against the rusty pole. She rotated just enough to smile toward the camera, flexing her unexpended knee behind her back. She stood there holding the pose for several second gear, with one shoe playfully lifted off the ground and a grinning on her brass as bright as the pantyhose on her pegleg.
"Hey Mom,"I said, holding the headphone up to my ear, as I leaned back hoping her well-trained earreach had failed to detect the noisy jangle of whang, which I'd tried to unbuckle as quietly as I could.
"Hey Chris, got a min ?"she said quickly."There's something crucial I need to ask you."
There was something urgent in her spokesperson that told me it must be life-threatening. Still, I'd just spent the utmost five minutes drooling over her sexy photograph. I'd even pulled out a pair of pantyhose I'd recently stolen from her dresser on my last trip dwelling. She had over a twelve. So I easily convinced myself that she wouldn't placard if I only took one. My gumshoe was already throbbing. All I could call back about was taking her pantyhose, sliding them over my hired hand, then taking my silky fingers and wrapping them gently around my dick. Naturally, the more she talked, the quicker I found myself doing just that.
"My lease is up in two months,"she said."I just got a varsity letter that my economic rent is increasing by almost 200 dollars. There's no way I can afford that."
"O.K.,"I answered, trying to refocus, as I slowly began stroking myself with her stolen hose.
"No, it's really not approve,"she said."I'm going to have to be active out. I was actually wondering how you'd feel if I moved up to Boston."
At that finical moment, I probably should let been listening more carefully, but her pantyhose felt so sound around my cock that I almost blurted out yes without intellection, just for the opportunity to be up tight and personal with her amazing legs again.
"I understand if you need to think about it,"Mom continued."I've barely given it lots thought myself. I'm just not sure as shooting what else I can do."
Again, my mind drifted off. I lied there trying to imagine what she was wearing. I purposely asked her a random doubtfulness hoping to get a clearer picture.
"So, um, where are you ?"
"In the teacher's lounge,"she said."I'm on my lunch fault. Why ?"
"No reasonableness,"I said, smiling to myself, as I pictured the double of her sitting there with her legs crossed, knowing the way she typically dangled one shoe off her pes, especially when she was stressed.
"You seem distracted,"she said."Is everything all right ?"
"Yeah, everything's amercement,"I said."I was just thinking that living up here would be even more expensive. How would that attain things easier ?"
"You're right,"she said."That's actually the very reason why I called. I know how you feel about your roomy. And I've never been crazy about the neighborhood you live in. So I was actually thinking of finding a nice place for the two of us."
It took me another second to react. I was still lying there quietly teasing myself with the fluent velvety texture of the nylon. My hose-covered fingers were gently grazing up and down the length of my shaft.
"Oh, umm, yeah, that's an idea."
By then, I could barely concentrate. I was too busy wondering what her free manus was doing as she sat there with one handwriting holding the phone. Was she gently rubbing her finger over the nylon like I'd caught her doing so many times at plate ? Was she dipping one metrical foot in and out of her shoe, or wiggling her hose-covered toes ? There was no way to have a go at it for sure. Still, I pictured her doing all three, right there in the teacher's couch, in full phase of the moon view of anyone walking by.
"Come on,"Mom continued."It'll be just like old fourth dimension. I can always find employment at another campus. Plus we can incur a place with Thomas More space for your camera equipment. I'll even do all the cooking."
There was a thinking, Mom in the kitchen, bending over to reach inside the oven. I could already see her skirt riding up, framing her cordate ass, with just a hint of her pantyhose gusset peeking out between her peg.
"Hmm, I don't know,"I said, trying to keep myself from breathing too heavily while I kept beating off."I'll have to talk to Jimmy about this,"I said, knowing that I couldn't just bond on my roommate, even if our lease was calendar month to calendar month."Plus, we'll have to lay down some ground rules,"I added, when I started to agnize the freedoms I'd be giving up purely to see her legs every day.
"Oh, I see,"she said."So you want to make the regulation now, huh ? Okay. Like what ?"
"nothing major,"I explained."I'm just not a kid anymore. I want to be for certain we'll regard each other's secrecy. That's all"
"I get that,"Mom said."But it's not like I'm bringing roast home or anything. There hasn't been anyone since your father. You won't have to worry about that."
My rhythm was getting faster as the conversation went on. My grip was tight, but thankfully her pantyhose provided a electric sander, more touchy detrition to my teasing hand solidus.
"I know. It's not that,"I said, clenching my fist."I'm talking about respecting each former's space."
"Oh, I see,"Mom answered."Like giving you place to smoke weed and romp with yourself all day. You think I don't know about all the porn you have on your computer ? You're my son, Chris. There's naught you can obscure from me."
"Mom, what the hell,"I said, voicing my bother."Have you been checking up on me ?"
Clearly, I wasn't amused. Yet, her number one response was to titter. Then, she started to excuse, parsing her row carefully.
"Let's just say I've poked around a little bit,"she said."And if you don't mind me saying so, you really should get out more. You're very bounteous. It doesn't make sense that you'd rather sit at home base surfing for hot MILFs online, when there's tidy sum of real cleaning lady out there."
"Great,"I replied."So you've checked out my history too ? Jesus, Mom. What else did you see on there ?"
"sufficiency,"she said, in a sobering tone that made me a wee bit aflutter."I never knew you had such a thing for old women,"she continued."Maybe I should introduce you to some of the teachers here."
"Yeah, maybe you should,"I said, playing along. As mad as I was at the opinion of her checking my computer behind my back, by then my forefront was literally spinning as I jerked off more vigorously.
"So,"I asked, switching the subject area to something to a greater extent perk up."Did you like the new shoe I sent you ?"
Mom paused for a 2d, as I lied there waiting for her answer. The lift in her voice told me she was smiling on the other end.
"You must have been reading my mind,"she said."I'm wearing them right now. I've had nothing but wish all day. It was skillful telling everyone my son picked them out."
"poise,"I said, picturing her in the five-inch smuggled strappy sandals I ordered from Amazon."I can't wait to see how they look."
"well, you're in luck,"she said cheerfully."You can see them tomorrow if you want. I'm driving up to see at space in the morning. You should come with me."
"Mmm, I'd love to come,"I said, catching myself."I mean, that sounds well. It's supposed to be aplomb tomorrow. You might require to wear thin something warm."
"Oh, I'll be ok,"she said."I normally wear pantyhose under my blue jean. That usually helps. Though I seem to be a missing a pair,"she added surprisingly. Naturally, I avoided the bailiwick.
"Really,"I said."Pantyhose under your dungaree,"I repeated, resisting the urge to moan."I guess that would probably help."
"Yeah, it really does,"she said."But anyway, sorry for rambling, I'm sure you're not interested in that."
"Oh, it's mulct,"I said, knowing it would only be another minute of arc or so before I exploded all over my hand."So, about tomorrow,"I said, holding it together,"were you thinking of swinging by here first ?"
"Yeah,"Mom said."I should be there around nine. Just take a leak sure you tell jimmy to wear some pants this time. It's a piddling awkward seeing your roomie with an erection."
"Yeah, sorry about that,"I answered, stroking like a fiend."But then again, you can't really blame him. That skirt you had on was pretty short."
"Oh, you think so ?"Mom said, scoffing a bit."It was normal distance. The skirt I'm wearing today is shorter than that."
"fountainhead that explains all the wish,"I said."How do you keep your educatee from hitting on you ?"
"Never said I did,"she answered."It's form of flattering honestly, especially at my age."
"Stop it, Mom. You look bully. You know you do."
"Why thank you,"she said."But I'm just like any other woman. We all like to hear it."
"Well, it's true,"I told her."I think you're beautiful. In fact, if you weren't my mother, I'd probably…um, nevermind,"I said, stopping myself. Who knows what I was thinking. By then, my phallus was doing all the talking.
"No, go on,"she said."If I wasn't your mother, you'd probably what ?"
That was the pivotal moment. In 19 years, my female parent had never asked me a doubtfulness as directly intimate as that. My balls were practically about to erupt. My fist was pumping non-stop. Yet, even then, I still couldn't bring myself to voice my unnatural desire to run my manus over her balmy silky pantyhose and cum all over her sexy legs. Still, I somehow managed to react with an answer intended to hide my lawful feelings.
"Wow,"I said, rubbing my os frontale."This is starting to assume a eldritch turning. I really don't think we should go there, do you ?"
"You brought it up,"Mom answered bluntly."Go on, tell me,"she added, with a cheek I found intimidating, yet highly erotic at the same clock time."Seriously, I want to recognize,"she pressed, as I held back what felt like a monolithic eruption."Do you think I'm a MILF…like the 1 you look at on those pestiferous websites ?"
My consistence trembled. I honestly couldn't William Tell whether she wanted the truth, or whether she was just testing me.
"Really Mom, stop,"I said, assuming the latter."I don't think we should peach about this anymore."
"okay, mulct,"she said."I wasn't trying to take a crap you uncomfortable. Just secern me one thing. Which parting of a woman's organic structure do you like well-nigh ? Wait, let me venture, you're a leg man, right ?"
Now she was pushing it. My trump pick was to labour back.
"Yes, Mom, I'm a leg man,"I answered flatly."There, I said it. Can we drop it now ?"
To my amazement, she didn't halt there.
"With or without pantyhose ?"she said, pushing me to my wit's end. By then, I was jerking off so hard if she hadn't already gathered the state I was in, she was only seconds from figuring it out.
"Definitely with pantyhose,"I said."Now seriously, break it. I can't pick out this anymore."
"So you're really into pantyhose,"she said."I guess that makes sense, considering how often I wear them. I suppose it's in force that I found out. Maybe we should reconsider this whole mind. It's bad enough you can't find a lady friend. I'd hate to do anything that makes you feel even more frustrated."
"Look Mom, for the last time,"I said, starting to fall back it."If I really wanted a girlfriend, I'd get one."
"Oh, really ?"she said."And when will that be ? When I've already got one foot in the grave ? Seriously, Chris, I'm worried about you, especially with this pantyhose fetish I'm just now hearing about. You know I wear them all the sentence. I certainly don't want you having sexual thoughts about me. Surely, I don't have to tell you how incompatible that would be."
Of grade she didn't. I'd known all along how unfitting it was. In that moment, I honestly didn't aid. By then, I was pummeling my cock with a payback, bent on ruining her pantyhose no topic what, dying to soak every train of thought with a massive wad of thick greasy spunk, purely out of venom.
I closed my eyes, instantly reliving the unerasable store that triggered my fetish in the initiative space.
I vividly pictured Mom strolling through the business firm wearing vaporous pantyhose with no annulus on. I could see her returning from body of work in her pitch-dark fuck-me pump, the stale aroma of dampness, sweaty nylon spreading through the air as she took off her shoes and asked me to rub her swollen feet. I could even picture the way she smiled as she walked down the street, hip switching from position to side, pretending not to love how men spun toward the sound of her lace heels clicking on the sidewalk, only to do home, peel off her pantyhose and carelessly toss them in the hamper, leaving them for me to salvage, as I secretly pulled them out, slide my tongue over the wet spot, and deeply inhaled her strong, musky scent.
My lurid memories pushed me right over the edge. With each violent spurt, I was forced to stifle my urge to groan, watching jets of semen blast into the air, surging from the head teacher of my cock, splattering down, drenching the nylon around my hand, while my mother patiently waited on the other end, with no idea what was happening as I lied there shamelessly enjoying my reckless act, her pantyhose swimming in a pool of cum.
Finally, I managed to pile up myself, leading with a fleshy sigh.
"Look Mom, I'm sorry,"I answered wearily."You asked me to be good. I wasn't trying to discompose you. Maybe we should just hang up now."
"No,"she said, softening her timbre."Don't hang up. I know you were just being honest. I realize that's how I raised you. But before we make such an crucial decisiveness, I think you should tell me everything. narrate me the true statement, Chris. Have you ever fantasized about me ?"
As soon as she asked, I instantly knew that I was stuck. On the one hand, by saying no, she'd most in all probability sensation that I was lying, which would only clear her angry and potentially spoil any luck of us moving back in together. On the other paw, telling the truth would most likely freak out her out so lots that she might not mouth to me again for months, and that was even worse.
Normally, in berth like this, where I wasn't exactly sure what to do, the first thing I usually did was try to imagine what Mom would do if she was in my spot. That's when it hit me that the right way to answer her doubt was to turn it around and ask her a dubiousness of my own.
"I'll be honest,"I said, pausing before slyly attempting to airt."But first I'd like to hear what you think ?"
"What I think ?"she said, pausing for a suddenly breath."I think that all that porn you've been watching is starting to mess up with your promontory. I think if we're going to live together, then you have to promise to find a girlfriend and initiate living in the genuine earthly concern. Can you do that ?"
"Sure Mom, I can do that."
"good,"she said."I'll see you in the morning. And don't forget to bring back my pantyhose."
* * *
The next morning, Mom showed up right on schedule, in a form-fitting, black, V-neck sweater, fairly low cut, with her offset initial, L for Lauren, dangling from a flatware necklace which failed to hold open me from noticing the cleavage swelling over her absorb neckline. Her blue scraggy jeans sat low on her shapely coxa, hugging every curve under skin-tight jean, leading down, just as promised, to her trade name new, high-heeled, black leather sandals, with thin shoulder strap spanning over her raw pes.
Looking down at the turnup of her jean, the first thing I noticed was the disturbing absence of pantyhose I'd been expecting. Naturally, I was disappointed, especially after spending my unanimous night tossing and turning in expectation of seeing them the following morning.
My first inherent aptitude was to say something about it. Then, I remembered how concerned she was talking about my voodoo. So the last thing I wanted to do was call any undue aid to it justly away.
We stood there enjoying a warm hug, when my roommate, Jimmy, promptly emerged from his room. The grin on his face told me he liked what he saw, as Mom reached over and greeted him with a polite handclasp. For a few minutes, she and jimmy stood there making small talk, until Mom finally excused herself, turning to ask if she could speak to me in my room.
I led her back to my bedroom and there she explained that she'd accidentally put a run in her last duad of pantyhose with a sheer heel and toe. Fortunately, I'd remembered to rinse out the duo I'd taken from her dresser. So I promptly fished them from the cumulus of washing thrown on my bed and handed them right over. She then asked if I would render her a here and now to put them on. So I quickly stepped out and waited for her out in the hallway.
She must have been hurrying too much to realize that I'd purposely left the door slightly ajar. I stood there peering through the narrow down crack, knowing it was incorrect, yet still unable to pull my eyes from watching her undress.
With her spine turned, I stood there watching as she reached down and pulled off one shoe at a time, enjoying the endearing sight of denim smothering her nasty troll butt. I then heard the sound as she yanked down her zipper, then continued watching as her hands went up to her sides. She hooked her quarter round into the narrow sash and promptly began squirming and wiggling her pelvis position to side. I fully expected to see panties, or at least a G-string, resisting the urge to heave as she peeled down the blue jean, revealing her naked ass. My dick instantly started to swell. Then she bent over, folding at the waist, presenting me with a clear view of her outer kitty lips, smooth, pink, and fully-shaved.
I worried that jemmy would walk by and see me standing there at any minute. Still, my incredible lot was too good to pass up, as I stood there watching and waiting to see even more.
I gulped with expectation as she wisely removed the jewelry from her fingers, then reached over and lifted her pantyhose off the bed. Within seconds, her agile fingers rolled up the number one leg. She then lifted her left foot, then reached down and slid the gang of nylon over her sharply pointed toes. She then carefully slither the delicate fabric up to her slightly bended stifle. She set down her pull up stakes foot, then steadily raised the other, pointing her toes once again as she slowly eased her right foot inside the opposite sleeve, leaving me breathless as she patiently slid the pantyhose over her knee, drawing the nylon inch by inch over her supple thigh, and finally squirming to squeeze her shapely hips under the straining girdle, making one terminal adjustment to line up the sewing along her constrict tush fissure, where her high-class asscheeks, under a wondrous layer of tan, glossy, sheer-to-waist pantyhose, shimmered like a couplet of half-moons.
I could have stood there watching forever, but my instincts told me to discontinue while I was ahead, knowing she could turn around and catch me at any moment.
I went back to the animation way to detect jemmy rolling a joint, which I'd come to expect as part of his morning routine. The night before, he and I had sat down for a long talk where I'd delicately broken the news to him that I was moving out. To my surprisal, Jimmy took it in stride, explaining that he had already been planning to move in with his girlfriend in a few weeks anyway. Fortunately, there were no hard feelings between us, especially when I stopped to see who my new roommate was soon to be.
minute later, my lovely mother finally returned from my room, smiling cheerfully, as I looked down grinning over the view of pantyhose covering her moderately pes. I promptly turned and hurried toward the threshold, hoping to shield my raging hard-on from her view. We left my apartment and set out to find our new place, quickly escaping so Mom could avoid Jimmy staring at her ass, and practically cumming in his pants.
We made our way down to the car, where Mom got in behind the cycle and turned on the local eighties station. The song on the radio thankfully managed to calm my hard-on as I road beside her, shifting my focusing toward the highly ironic words.
"Every petty matter she does is a charming. Everything she do just turn me on…"
We then proceeded to spend the next couple of hours going from one ugly, over-priced apartment to another, before finally stopping at a newly-renovated, second level walk-up, on a lull, tree-lined street in Roslindale.
The house was owned by a Cy Young, honeymooner dyad named Book of Joel and Cynthia, who conveniently lived on the inaugural floor. Joel was a successful contractor in the city. Cynthia was a onetime nurse turned homebody mom who'd recently given giving birth to their 1st child. Looking at Cynthia, it was pretty obvious she'd just had a infant, judging by the size of her enormous tit which seemed to describe for nearly half her consistency weight, especially considering how short she was. If I had to guess, I would have said she was easily a G-cup…With a capital G, as in"Goddamn, those are some big mamilla !"
Compared to Mom, Cynthia was easily three or four in shorter, as I stood at Mom's side and watched them converse with each other, instantly hitting it off, smiling and hugging like long lost friends when they quickly discovered that Cynthia had graduated from the Lapp high school day as my mother, only eight years later.
Cynthia led us up to see the flat and we couldn't believe our eyes. The place had literally everything we wanted, high school roof, hardwood flooring, with dozens of space, including a large eat-in kitchen. As we walked in, on the left was a combination dining and living room area, divided by sliding doubly doors. On the right hand was a small spot, a small Edgar Guest bathroom, then the kitchen, followed by a minor computer memory space, with a door to the binding porch, and steps leading up to the Ionic dialect. The dome had been completely remodeled for new tenants, with two sleeping accommodation, and a boastfully master tub.
Mom and I signed the lease in a topic of days, agreeing to motivate in by October 1st.
The motility itself went fairly quiet. Mom hired moving company to handle all the big furniture. Then, on Sunday the 30th, we rented a U-Haul, loaded up everything else, and got it all moved in within a few hours. Sometime around noon, Mom figured I was probably hungry and realized we had no food. I offered to start unpacking while she went out and got us some lunch.
I headed back down to the hand truck and pulled out a box labeled"Mom's bedroom."I carried the box upstairs, setting it down in her way, where I opened it and start removing the items inside. It was mostly packed with old books and photograph album, until I noticed something buried underneath.
Curiously, I reached down and pulled out an old, dusty, leather-bound journal which I'd never seen before. I stood there alone in the empty room and quietly cracked open the for the first time page.
The first debut was dated November 7th, 2003. If memory served me correctly, it was only six calendar month after my parents'divorce.
The get-go few unveiling weren't particularly interesting. She started off talking about leaving the old marketing firm she'd worked at during her marriage. She'd already completed her teaching certification and put in her two-weeks notice. She was clearly still hurting over Dad leaving her for mortal else, blaming it mostly on her own ambition when all Dad wanted was mortal more traditional and submissive. Personally, I never understood why he felt that way. Still, he did appear much happy with his new trophy wife. So there really was cypher else for Mom to do except propel on.
I read through the 1st five or six page, when affair started to pick up a bit.
November 13, 2003
Something crazy happened today. I made out with Mike Sullivan in the stairwell over by his part. I'm not even surely why I did it. He's almost 10 years younger than me. Plus he's so full moon of himself, really not my type. He hasn't stop flirting with me ever since he heard I was back on the marketplace, as he put it. It's not like I did anything to promote him. It wasn't my decision to displace the copier outside his office. I love how he always comes over and cut down his pen on the base. It used to make me uncomfortable, but now I just play along. At showtime, he would set down it and pluck it right back up. Now he likes to linger down there and stare at my peg for a spell. It's pretty laughable to watch. Chris doesn't know it, but I've actually caught him doing the like matter. He must really wish my stage. I know he's my son and I should probably say something to him, but he's been through enough lately. The final thing I want to do is embarrass him. I guess he's just at that age. Anyway, I'm not sure what to do about microphone. Kelly and Robin are throwing a goodbye company for me tomorrow nighttime. Mike said he'd be there. I really liked kissing him. I could tell he liked it too. His cock got really hard when he rubbed it against my leg. It felt pretty big too. No wonder he's fucked half the women in the office. He probably thinks I'm next. It's tempting, but I don't know. We'll see…
November 15, 2003
I can't believe I spent $ 80 clam on a trade name new political party wearing apparel and that son of a beef didn't even show up. Oh well, his loss I guess. God knows there were plenty of other guys there who liked it. Never thought I could rive off zebra photographic print. Maybe I'll wear it again next workweek. It was kind of odd being the centre of attention, but I think I could get used to it. I know robin was pretty jealous. I told her to stop buying me shots. Besides, no one puts stripteaser terminal in a bar full of drunken women expecting nobody to use them. It's not like I was up there flashing my pussy for everyone. I did weary pantyhose. I'm certain mike would possess loved that. I wore them just for him. God, I can't stop thinking about his cock. I really take to get fucked. I should probably invest in a dependable vibrator. I would have bought one month ago, but I'm just afraid Chris would come up it. He's always sneaking into my way. I'm not sure what he's looking for. I hope he's not going through my panty drawer. I'm sure he's learned how to jack off by now. The net matter I want to determine is a Brobdingnagian cum brand on one of my satin lash. I guess at some point I'll have a talk with him. I just don't enjoy thinking about my son's penis. I really wish his male parent were here…
I would induce kept reading but I knew Mom was on her way back. So I packed everything back inside the box and quietly left the room. I headed back downstairs trying to process all the twisted thinking scrambling through my mind. Clearly, my female parent wasn't as clueless or sinless as I'd always believed. She seemed to enjoy getting attention from younger men. She also knew way more about me than I'd ever realized. The opinion of Mom willingly behaving like a adulteress really got me excited. I stepped out onto the back porch, where I lit up a cigarette, trying to calm myself down.
The view from the back porch overlooked the garden in the backyard. I stood there leaning over the railing, as I looked down and noticed that the curtains were drawn on our new landlord's bedroom window downstairs. In the quoin of the room, I spotted an empty rocking chair, next to what looked like the railings on a sister's crib. I flicked my cigarette, then looked back again, when Cynthia appeared carrying the baby in her limb. Even from such a high school angle, it was virtually impossible to look down and see anything other than her thumping titty. The image reminded me of those IMAX movies where they show you the ground from space and you can still see the Himalayas only because they're so fucking big.
I couldn't service smile at the light blue button up sweater she was wearing. The fabric was stretched out so much it looked like she bought it from baby Gap. I took another puff of my Marlboro Light, watching as she sat down, only to gasp in disbelief when she started unbuttoning her top.
By then, I was already horny as fuck, as I watched Cynthia reach up and unsnap her bra from the forepart, letting her left titty flop through the scuttle of her sweater, before lifting it up and pressing her child's mouth over her swollen nipple. My whole life I'd never seen anything like it, as she sat there rocking back and forth. I've always preferred legs, but there was no denying the beauty of Cynthia's phenomenal jugs. The size of her breasts reminded me of my days back at the pizza pie workshop, where we laid out the lolly until it rose into soft, round of golf, flesh-colored mounds. The longer I watched, the more I found myself jealous of her little boy and the blissful look on his face as he eagerly suckled his mother's tit.
Just when my pecker couldn't possibly get any harder, Mom finally returned as I heard her opening the straw man door. I wasn't about to let her see what I was doing, so I quickly hustled back inside.
I met her in the kitchen where I found her wearing a curt, heather Gray, New England patriot jersey, with black spandex yoga pants, and a pair of brown fur-lined boots. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail, with no constitution, yet I still wanted to bend her over and completely fuck her brains out.
"How's it going ?"she said."Get often done ?"
"Umm, not really,"I said."Went out for a smoke. Figured I'd wait for you."
"That's fine. You must be starving,"she said."I brought you a turkey sandwich, no tomatoes."
"Thanks,"I said, looking around at the piles of junk everywhere."Where should we sit ?"
Mom looked around as well. There was only one chair in the kitchen. The rest were all stacked in the dining room.
"Good question,"she said."Why don't you sit here ? If I get tired of standing, I can always sit on your lap."
Assuming she was just kidding, I grabbed my sandwich and took a derriere, while Mom leaned against the heel counter and started to eat.
After one raciness, she strolled over toward me, walking around in front of the chair, where she then settled down, with one arm draped around my neck and her branch stretched out across my lap.
"So,"she said."This is it. This is our new home. Are you excited ?"
I would cause answered, if only she hadn't chosen that demand moment to set her ass on top of my bulwark. The frown on her grimace instantly told me she could feel how hard I was. I expected her to bound right up. Instead, she just sat there for a indorsement, looking at me with this torment look on her fount like I'd murdered someone.
Finally, she whispered softly, with this cold, distant look in her eyes.
"Uh, Chris…is that what I think it is ?"
It was just like the phone margin call over again. Only this prison term, there was no clever way for me to birl it. I was far too humiliated to look her directly in the face. Instead, I quietly looked down and slowly nodded my head. I wanted to say something, but all I could focus on was the fluency of her leging as she pressed her ass firmly against my cock.
Intended for yoga, the legging felt more like velvety leotards, not sheer like pantyhose, yet every bit as diffuse to the touch. On the positive side, the fabric was made from Lycra spandex, which visibly made them fit like a glove.
Finally, Mom pulled her arm away and slowly stood up, folding her arms in front line of her.
"Maybe you should tell me what you were really doing while I was gone,"she said in an accusing tone.
Still ineffectual to face her, I lifted my sweaty palms and started to rub them against my shorts.
"I wasn't doing anything,"I answered meekly."Sometimes it just happens. I'm only 19."
"I see,"Mom said, nodding her head."face, I understand that you're young and you need sex. But I can't have you walking around the household like that. We talked about this once already. I hope you commemorate what you promised me."
"Yes, I remember. But finding a lady friend isn't that easy. It takes time."
"okay, maybe you're right,"she said."So in the lag, what should we do ?"
"I don't know,"I said, shrugging it off."I'll just feature to consider with it on my own."
"mulct,"Mom said."Why don't you go ahead and do that so we can get back to work."
Granted, the logical thing to do in that situation would have probably been to remain firm up and go to my room. Instead of doing that, I chose to pee-pee light of the spot, hoping to cut the tension by seeing if Mom was willing to have a sense of humor about the whole thing.
"So what,"I said, staring back defiantly,"should I just blister it out right here ?"
She had already started to turn away. Then she slowly twisted her head back, weaponry folded as she glared at me through the narrow pussy of her centre.
"You haven't got the balls to try anything like that."
Her answer hit me like a punch in the gut. My wholly adolescence was littered with hoi polloi calling me a wimp. I'd never been commodity at sports. In school, I got picked on for being the skinniest boy in grade. fille pointed and laughed at my scrawny build, knowing I was too chicken to press back. I'd been putting up with yob for as tenacious as I could retrieve. I wasn't about to sit there and get bullied by my own mother.
Instead of looking down, I looked Mom square in the eye, as I jerked down my zipper, reached in and promptly pulled out my cock.
"okey, sentence out,"Mom said, putting her hand up."This has gone far enough. Put your putz back in your pants, right now. I'm not joking."
"Neither am I,"I said, pointing the tip straightaway at her."You told me I needed to cum. So that's what I'm going to do. If you don't like it, don't watch."
"Don't lookout man ?"she said, raising an eyebrow, with a mild gag and an obvious smirk on her face."So you just bear me to ignore you while you sit there touching yourself ? You want me to act like this is normal ?"
"Sure,"I said,"as long as you stay where I can see you."
"Wow, you've got some nerve,"Mom said, dropping her fountainhead to her chest, before wearily rubbing her forehead. After a brief bit, she slowly raised her head up, responding with a dead nod, as she quietly answered."fine, do what you want. I can't stop you. But don't even think about trying this again. Once you get off, we will never refer this again."
Admittedly, it would have been soft to arrest right hand there. I could have easily controlled myself, if only Mom had done something besides walk over, snatch my cigarettes, and light one up right in movement of me. She wasn't a smoker and she'd obviously chosen to ignore her own rule about smoking inside the house. Still, after clearing a quad for herself on the table, she propped herself up, then slowly inhaled, with an air of worldliness that only made my peter harder as she gracefully crossed her pegleg in black spandex.
"Don't take all day,"she snapped over a puff of smoke."You're prosperous I'm allowing this at all."
I wasn't expecting any sympathy, yet I still felt compelled to explain why it was taking so long.
"Sorry, my hand's pretty dry,"I said.
She sat there thinking for a secondly, startling me as she sprang up, with cigarette in hand, as she marched back over toward the counter. She flicked her butt, tossing it down the sink, then reached over and opened her bag, pulling out a small credit card bottle. She screwed off the cap, then boldly walked over and stood above the chairman where I was sitting. Bottle in hand, she leaned over the head of my cock, squirting out a generous lump of creamy lotion, which dribbled down all over my shaft.
"will that helper ?"she said, with a grin on her nerve which I instantly read as mild amusement.
"Very much,"I said, gripping my penis around the base, making her ticker as I slid my balled clenched fist up to the head, spreading the lotion over my veiny prepuce, making it glisten from all sides, enabling me to enjoy the feeling of my own slippery hand, rising and falling around my rigid shaft, as I sat in front of her and boldly continued to buck off.
I sat there hoping she would canvass my technique, imagining one day to experience her deal instead of my own. The look on her face lacked any form of expression, as if to prevent me from noticing any signaling of involvement in her cold, lifeless eyes.
"Um, we should really speed this up,"she said, dropping her bridge player to her hips."Is there something else I can do ?"
"Sure,"I said, hoping to push this even further."You could turn around and show me your butt."
"Oh, I could, huh ?"she said."Will that get you off…if I turn around and show you my ass ?"
"Mmm, yes please."
"Oh,"she said, smiling openly."I like it when you say delight. Go on, picayune boy. Say ‘ please Mom, may I look at your ass ?'”
Hearing her sexy, commanding articulation, with its air of implicit power, prompted the increased musical rhythm of my hand, as I looked up, begging with ebullience.
"Please, Mom,"I said earnestly."Please, may I front at your beautiful ass ?"
"Hmm,"she said with a snigger."You did that very well,"she added, slowly turning around. She arched her back slightly, with her ass sticking out less than three inches from my font.
"How's that ?"she said, poking it out."Tell me how good it looks."
"Mmm, so good,"I answered quickly."Your ass is perfect. Really, it's perfect."
My mouth watered at the sight of her black leggings stretched taut over the curve of her house shapely stern. She kept her substructure together, accentuating the slope where the minor of her back arched over and her asscheeks strained under the soused fabric, so amazingly round and wide-cut, I could barely book back from reaching up and squeezing that plump, sumptuous bubble.
"I'm gladiolus you approve,"she said."Now hurry up and cum before I lose my patience."
"I'm getting close,"I said."Just bend over a lilliputian further."
"Oh, I don't think so,"she said."I'm not taking any Sir Thomas More orders from you today. You'll cum when I tell you. sympathise ?"
"Okay,"I whispered, losing my breath."I'll do anything you want."
"That's better,"she said."Now I want you to stand up. We're trading places."
With no hesitation, I jumped out of my seat, expecting my female parent to ferment around and slowly sit down. Instead, she held out her index finger digit, directing me to stand in front end of the chair. Then I watched as she set her knees down on the wooden seat, keeping her legs together as she slowly leaned forward, her ass pointed back towards me.
"Is this where you'd like to cum,"she asked, flexing her soaked glute,"right here, all over your female parent's ass ?"
"Oh, fuck yeah,"I moaned, stroking intently."You have no idea."
"Then show me,"she said."show me how horny you are mighty now. Let me finger it. Let me feel that hot load all over my ass. Go on, Chris, cum for me."
My knees buckled as the audio of her interpreter nearly caused me to exit out from overexcitement. I had never imagined that my mother was even capable of acting this way, let alone seeing it first-hand.
Was she really begging me to twitch off in our stain new kitchen ? Was she actually ordering me to cum all over her black yoga pant ?
I should have accepted it for the perquisite that it was. Instead, I got greedy, giving her no chance to react, as I lunged forward and slammed my cock smack up against her derriere, a forceful hit softened by the legging and the meaty flesh underneath, the perfect cushion for my throbbing member to grind against her placid, velvety rump.
She let out a frightened shriek, as I grabbed her by the waist, ignoring her vocal music protest as I violently started thrusting my rosehip back and Forth River, viciously humping her from behind.
"No, Chris don't !"Mom cried."Chris, stop ! Oh my God ! Please don't do that !"
Of course of study, I could pick up her. But I wasn't about to kibosh, not for anything.
"You told me to cum on your ass. You said it Mom. I heard you say it !"
She said null in counter. Yet, her ass clearly pushed back against my cock. Her spokesperson was raspy and out of breath, with her mind forward, hair swinging all over.
"Oh, God,"she moaned."God, your gumshoe is so hard. Oh my God, don't stop. Yes sister, I said it. I want you to cum. I want you to cum sweetie. Please let me feel your cum !"
In 19 eld, I'd never felt an orgasm quite like that, let alone seen so much punk come gushing out of my peter like a wiped out H2O main. The force of each spasm was so violent that I stumbled over and collapsed on top of her as my pegleg gave out. My face was buried in her fuzz as I felt Mom trembling beneath me. Even then, with our trunk mashed together, the lingering sensation of her soft cheeks pressed up against my stopcock milked out the remaining semen flowing from my aching globe.
As I looked down and slowly rose to my feet, the black legging spread over Mom's ass were completely coated under a blockheaded stratum of white creamy foam, rolling down the opprobrious spandex, then pooling in the crack of her ass, before slowly dripping down to the scissure of her moist cunt.
Covered in sweat, I quietly zipped up, lost for words as I stood there scratching the top of my head.
"Umm, maybe you should go change,"I said, clearing my throat.
For a secondly, Mom remained calm down. I watched as she reached back, sliding her digit through my creamy sperm.
"Yeah, good idea,"she said, slowly rising to her groundwork."Just try to quash getting another hard-on in the next ten minutes, okay ?"
* * *
For the rest of that afternoon, Mom and I barely spoke. I could only sham she needed as practically time to process what had just happened as I did. We spent the rest of the day quietly arranging piece of furniture and unpacking most of our things. Mom spent most of her clip in the kitchen, while I worked in the living room hooking up our television and stereo. We ordered pizza pie for dinner. Then sat on the couch and quietly watched football. Around nine o'clock, I went out to converge some friends from schooltime who were hanging out downtown. By the time I got home, Mom had already gone to bed.
The next morning, I woke up and walked downstairs to an vacuous theater. It was Monday and Mom had apparently already left for employment. I'd woken up with barely adequate prison term to snaffle a quick shower, throw on some clothes and race off to get to my morning course of study. It wasn't like her to leave without waking me up. I started to worry that my foolish actions had managed to ruin everything on our first day. Before leaving, I'd noticed a note with a tilt of things Book of Joel needed to fix, written in Mom's handwriting on the fridge.
When I finally made it to class, the fear of Mom telling me to move out made it virtually impossible to focalize on anything else. I stared off into space, tapping my pencil against the desk, dreading the thought of going home, certain of what was destined to issue forth.
My last course ended at noon. Fortunately, before moving out, jemmy had kindly given me two Panthera uncia of Blue Dream. So I figured the best thing to do was go abode, smoke a sports stadium and have a couple beers, just to fix myself for the foul mood my mother was for certain to be in when she got home.
The moment I walked in the sign, I instantly remembered my mother's diary, as I headed up to her way and luckily found it in the Same box where I'd left it, right at the base of Mom's bed. I opened it up and thumbed through a few pages, stopping at a handing over that instantly caught my eye.
December 10th, 2003
Today I caught this guy following me around the mall. I was variety of scared at first, but he looked fairly harmless so I chose to neglect it rather than causing a scene. He was well dressed for a younger guy with a nice business suit like he could cause been a lawyer or something. I needed some coffee so I went into Starbucks where I saw him sitting by himself. There weren't many board as I took my derriere, which ended up facing him directly. From the instant I sat down, I could instantly feel him watching, as I looked over and caught him peeking at my ramification. I could have got up and found another prat, but he wasn't being terribly obvious about it. So I sat there and sustain my branch crossed, waiting to see if he'd move on. After a mo, I realized he wasn't leaving. So I glanced over and looked him straight in the eye thinking he'd take the hint and go away. He must have thought I was flirting when he looked up and smiled back at me. For a moment, I was expecting him to walk over and say something. But the longer he waited, the more I realized how nervous he was to approach me. I was form of insulted, but then I figured if all he wanted was a show then why not collapse him one just to fuck with his head. When he looked over again, I picked up my coffee, turned my hips toward him, and slowly uncrossed my stage. I paused for a instant, holding them loose to testify him the black flip-flop I'd worn under my pantyhose. I did this three or four times, crossing my pegleg back and Forth River. Each time, I held my branch open for a second, letting him see up my doll. Finally, I stood up and quietly went on my way, never thinking he'd actually have the nerve to follow me down to the shoe store.
I'd found a cracking plenty on a inglorious pair of Jimmy Choo's with a peep-toe and a decent shiny refinement. I sat down to try them on when I looked up and saw him watching me through the window. The bench was so low that sitting down opened my skirt up even more, exposing not only my black flip-flop, but most of the pantyhose covering my legs as well. Still, I wasn't about to let some sophisticate keep me from buying shoes. So I sat there on the judiciary thanking myself for wearing underwear, with my legs open and my doll up around articulatio coxae, working my invertebrate foot into the shoes. When I looked up again, I couldn't believe he was still standing there trying to play innocent with his back turned. At that point, I probably should give confronted him. Instead, I just paid for the place and walked out, thinking he'd never follow me outside.
I reached the exit and turned around to see if he was still behind me. Sure enough, he walked out with a smile on his face like he hadn't done anything wrong. By then, I was so irritated that I walked over and asked if I could help with him anything. He smiled back and said no. He just enjoyed seeing a adult female with beautiful legs. I asked if he got off peeking up women's wench. He said only women who looked like me. I said it was too bad he was such a pussy or maybe he could have seen more. He offered to pack me out for a drink to see if he could change my public opinion. He looked a little angry when I turned him down, making the misunderstanding of asking if I was just a tease. So then I decided to teach him a lesson and asked him to walk me to my car. When I got in, I rolled down the window, quickly undid my blouse, then told him to take out his cock. He looked around for a second. Then he stepped over to the window and nervously pulled his dick out. I spit in my medallion, taking his shaft in one handwriting, while using the other to slowly pull out up my skirt. I reached down inside my pantyhose, rubbing my button, while using the other to stroke his dick hard and fast. I jerked him until he started to groan. Then I aimed the tip directly above my legs and instantly started to cum as I watched his freight rain down across my thigh, spraying all over my pantyhose.
Satisfied, I pulled down my dame, started the car and drove off without a 1 word…
The enactment ended there, but the arouse effect lingered in my vivid imagination longer after I set down the journal.
Out of everything I'd read so far, this was without question my get-go clear grounds that the women who raised me and handed down all of my morals was willing to operate in extreme, high-risk, intimate behavior with seemingly any Danton True Young man with a rooster. But more importantly, there was also something in the look and feeling of pantyhose that clearly brought out her inner strumpet, as if she found them to be just as big a turn-on as I did, possibly even more.
Instead of feeling completely panicked and terrified over what had happened the day before, suddenly I was bent on exposing my mother's dark side, determined to see how far she was bequeath to go to fill her recondite sexual desires.
One hour later, I was stretched out on the couch, feeling pretty faded from the bowl I'd just finished smoking and the three beers I gulped down pretty quickly. I was just about to nod off, when I heard stride coming up the stairs. I slowly stood up, shaking the gossamer from my point, as I walked toward the speech sound of someone knocking on the door.
Recalling my mother's notation, I fully expected to see Joel standing there wearing his putz belt. Instead, in my hazy, weed-induced state, I almost choked as I opened the doorway and saw Cynthia standing there, with her bra-busting melon spilling out of a bright orange tree satin nightie.
"Good dawn,"she said, over a cryptical yawn, like she hadn't slept all night.
"Hey,"I said, with a stick look, as I glanced down at her fuzzy pink slippers."Actually, it's good afternoon, but that's okay. How are you ?"
"Exhausted,"she said."Alex is teething. I would birth come sooner, but I woke up about ten minutes ago."
"Oh, no problem. I was actually expecting your husband. But that's cool. come in on in,"I said, pulling the doorway open.
"Joel had a job out in Framingham,"she explained."But I'm pretty William Christopher Handy with a spanner myself. Your mom told me about the radiator."
"Oh,"I said, forcing myself to focus on her face."That's actually kind of hot,"I said awkwardly."Yeah, Mom gave me a list of stuff…smoke dismay, radiator, bathroom sink, and one of the light electrical switch in the attic."
"No worries,"she said."fume alarm probably needs a new battery. If the lightness switch isn't working, I'll have to tell Joel. He handles all the wiring. Otherwise, I can probably help."
With that, I followed her back to the living elbow room, focusing mainly on her ass. Unlike Mom, Artemis had short blonde hair, in one of those trendy bob-style haircuts, parted on the leftfield, creating a adorable underframe for the fullness of her round, chubby face. Knowing how critical some women are, she might have described herself as overweight. In my notion, the extra child weightiness just made her expect more toothsome. Her coxa were fairly all-embracing, yet her breadbasket was still pretty flat, with a duad of incredibly vast bosom, giving her a staring hourglass figure.
"Sorry if I'm a slight under dressed,"she said, as she knelt down and bent over beside the radiator.
From that Angle, as she leaned over to check the valves, there was no polite way to keep myself from staring down at her giant hooters. I had recently started kickboxing and looking down at Cynthia's breast reminded me of those heavy bags down at the gym, two of them, side to side, swinging to and fro. The icy temperature of the room did admiration for her nipples too, swelling and poking out like thimble through the orange satin clinging to her chest.
After hearing her apology for showing up half naked, I did my best to relieve her sense of urgency, hoping not to hinder her.
"You could have waited,"I said."Mom doesn't usually leave oeuvre until five or six. She's more sensible to the cold than I am. My old apartment was a good deal risky. Not to refer, we trust you."
"wellspring, I'm gladiolus you feel that way,"she said."But you're actually our first tenant since we bought this place…hate to bug out off on the wrong foot,"she added."The radiator seems o.k., must be a problem with the furnace. We just hired a new nanny-goat and she's kind of clueless, so I need to get back and check up on on the baby. I can fix it right after that."
"Sounds ripe,"I said."I'll tell Mom you came by."
"Please do,"she said."I'll also come back and check out the sink too. I just need to put on some real clothes."
"No spate, always good to see you,"I said,"though it might be proficient to jade a little more next time, no offense."
"None taken,"she said, glancing at the cleavage where her night-robe had helplessly slipped down."I know the girls can be a little distracting,"she said, tugging on the shoulder strap, a useless attempt to extend up, making her breast heart jiggle under the nightie, as I stood there fighting to keep my eyeball inside their sockets.
As I led her back to the threshold, she paused in straw man of the office, pointing to the television camera on top of the desk.
"Who's the photographer ?"she asked curiously.
"Oh, that'd be me,"I said."I'm not that dependable, but it's always been a Falco subbuteo. When I was Whitney Young, I had this dream of working for a men's magazine."
"Really, you mean like summercater Illustrated or something ?"
"Hmm, no, more like Maxim or Playboy,"I said."Blame it on Anna Nicole Smith."
"Oh, that's cool,"she said, smiling."You mean like cover girl style. I've always wanted to do something like that.
"No way,"I said."I honestly never pictured you as the type."
"Oh, and why's that,"she said."You think I'm too old or something ?"
"No, not at all,"I said."You're never too old. You just run into me as more…I don't know, materialistic, I guess."
"Ah,"she said."So because my Volvo has a Mitt Romney bumper spine, you naturally assumed I was uptight."
"Well, no,"I said stuttering like a sap.
The more she spoke, the more Cynthia reminded of the girls I knew back in high school, the ones who'd been spoiled since birth and hid their emotions under a well-practiced smiling and an annoyingly bouncy disposition, suitable in this causa considering her copious bosom.
"Tell you what,"she said, cutting me off."succeeding month is our second anniversary. I wasn't sure what to get Book of Joel as a gift, but now I'm thinking he'd really enjoy some nice jinx shots, you know, something sexy to add some spicery back to our relationship. Could you help me with that ?"
I was pretty taken aback by how spread out she was about her spousal relationship. Still, I couldn't ignore the subtle flirtation of this desperate homemaker or the rapidly growing hard-on in my trouser.
"Umm, certainly, I could help you with that,"I said."We'll have to hash out press and take in some test scene, but otherwise, I should have everything we need."
She then wasted no time stepping into the office, where she leaned up against the paries and slowly proceeded to peel down the right strap of her nightdress, letting it precipitate off her shoulder.
"Will the light in here work for you ?"
"I'll use the flashgun,"I said, as I stepped over to the desk, picked up the tv camera and quickly began snapping away.
From the moment the photographic camera started flashing, I was instantly blown away by her lack of shyness, never expecting so a great deal confidence in strawman of the Lens. The innocent, spunky housewife who'd showed up just instant earlier was instantly replaced by a smoldering vamper, with two perfectly pouting mouth and a deadly come-hither stare, enhancing the have effect of her steamy blue eyes. Yet, the sultry smell on her face, as sexy as it was, didn't entirely organise me for the consequence she crossed her arms together, thrusting her tits toward the camera like treble airbags, completely filling up the skeletal system with more cleavage than my head could fully comprehend.
She continued shifting through diverse poses, when I mildly requested that we step over across the antechamber. She kindly accepted. So I took her by the helping hand, Ieading her into the dining room, where I then helped her climb up onto the table.
She didn't need much didactics as she stretched out, extending her legs, with her brain tilted back, and her chest pointed up toward the ceiling.
"creative thinker if I ask you a personal question,"I asked, as she shifted over to her go forth position, returning my question with a knowing smile.
"You want to jazz how big they are."
"Well, yeah,"I said,"not to be rude or anything. They look amazing. I was just curious."
"Thank you,"she said."They used to be minuscule before I got pregnant. Once I started nursing they shot up to a 38FF. But it varies."
"Wow,"I said, staring in awe."Do they anguish your back ?"
"All the sentence,"she said."Imagine trying to walk with two Imperial gallon of milk strapped to your pectus. It form of flavor like that."
"No, I can't imagine,"I said, shaking my head."But what about your tit ? Do they ever get sore ?"
Cynthia nodded."Sometimes,"she said,"mainly when I'm nursing. But I'd rather do that than use recipe, more than nutrients."
"Hmm, have you ever tasted it ?"
"My breast Milk River ?"she answered."Yeah, once or twice. It's a bit more watery than regular Milk. I try to eat lots of fruit to make believe it sweeter. Otherwise, it's kind of sour."
"Interesting,"I said, realizing she couldn't stay much longer."Well, I know you have to go. I'll upload these pictures and see which angles work best. Let me know when you have time for a total photo shoot."
"Oh, okay,"she said, seeming a bit confused.
"Is something wrong ?"I asked."If you need time to think about it, I understand."
"No, it's not that,"she said."I was waiting for you to ask if you could try some."
The equanimity in her voice combined with her floor gaze gave me a lightheaded feeling as I set down the tv camera, then pulled out a chair, and quietly sat down. Just when it seemed things couldn't possibly get weirder, this woman I barely knew was offering to let me try out her breast milk.
How could I possibly say no ? From the moment I saw her, my beginning neural impulse was to eat up my grimace between her chest and motorboat those melons until I passed out.
My initial jolt prevented me from speaking after hearing her offer out loud. Still, there must possess been something written on my aspect which clearly confirmed that I was more than just a little curious.
She seemed to love teasing me as her compensate hand slowly rose up and deliberately pulled down her will shoulder strap. Sweat astragal formed across my hilltop as she fixed her eyes on me and quietly peeled down the other. My centre concentrated mainly on the orange satin covering her monolithic chest, where Cynthia reached up and thrillingly set her hired hand to patiently ease down the sheeny fabric. Finally, with a lump in my throat, I looked on intently as Cynthia managed to attract out her enormous jugful.
Logically, I knew what I was seeing. Still, I couldn't fathom how a womanhood so lowly could end up with tits that big. Each one was larger than my head and must have got weighed at least ten Sudanese pound, as I sat there entranced by the size and shape of these two gigantic globes, hovering inches from my face. Neither was perfectly round, nor even completely tranquil, with reaching marks along both incline of her otherwise porcelain skin.
As big as they were, Artemis's tits were far too heavy to escape the effects of gravity, making them sag just a bit, yet in a rather appealing way, especially when she moved and the piano tissue really started to jiggle.
phonograph needle to say, I was totally stunned as Artemis pulled her tits out for all their glorification, thrusting them at me and smiling from ear to ear like all she wanted was for me to get it on how proud she was of her huge 38FFs.
Sitting in the president, my eyes were flush with her pink pap, sprouting invitingly from the raised surface of her drab areolas, no wider than a pair of quarters.
She beckoned me with her crooked finger's breadth, stopping me when I leaned in too closely.
"Don't put your rima oris on it,"she said."Just sit back, open across-the-board, and I'll do the rest."
I respectfully followed orders, leaning my head back, then parting my lips surface and waiting for what she did next.
She leaned forward, placing the tips of her thumb and forefinger on each side of her right nipple. Then, using light pressure, she slowly brought them together in a gradual pinching motility. The offset sprinkle squirted from her nipple like milky serum from the tip of a syringe. Her aim was consummate, pointing her nipple directly in strawman of my mouth. I instantly closed my center, compelled by the need to burn this mo deep into my memory forever. The feel seemed to revive something buried in my subconscious. The sweet, lemony liquid filling my open oral fissure magically transported me back to infancy. She stopped me for a second, giving me meter to savor the creamy droplets lingering inside my mouth. My eyes opened just in time to see her lifting her other chest, which soon began streaming milk over my tongue as well.
As Cynthia continued feeding me, I happily began swirling my tongue through the warm nectar, letting the flavor seep into every corner of my mouth, tingling my gustatory perception buds, as the reality around me faded into a removed blur.
"Someone seems to be liking this quite a bit,"she said.
"Mmm,"I whispered."Best thing I've tasted in months."
"Aww, that's odoriferous,"she said, blushing a bit."And I really appreciate your aid with the pictures. But I should probably guide back now. We'll lecture again soon though. I promise."
"Yeah, that's fine, whenever,"I said, trying my intimately to seem nonchalant."You know where I live,"I added casually.
While she'd made it crystalize that she really needed to go, once I realized she was far more liberal than I'd ever guessed, I couldn't helper myself from testing the waters just a bit more.
"Before you go, I was thinking about wardrobe for the shoot. How would you finger about maybe wearing some pantyhose ?"
"Pantyhose,"she said, sneering back at me."God, I hate those thing. They made us break them all the time at the hospital. You know, like those unworthy whiten compressing hosepipe. It makes me scratch just thinking about it. What about maybe some stockings and a garter belt ?"
"Hmm, that's an theme too,"I replied."I think you'd looked really hot in a sexy nurse's outfit, with Edward D. White heels and glossy White person hose. They really sparkle on camera."
"Sure,"she said."Just make me look just. That's all I care about."
"Shouldn't be a problem,"I said, escorting her to the door. She left me with a legal brief hug and a mild kiss on the cheek, as I closed the door, wiping the fret off my forehead.
* * *
By the time Cynthia left, I felt like a sum automaton. My dick was so hard I could barely walk, like all the rip in the relaxation of my organic structure had instantly rushed down to my throbbing genitals. I desperately needed some type of release, as I slowly crept back upstairs, looking to find Mom's journal once again.
This meter I wasn't just looking for any random passage. Instead, I entered my female parent's elbow room, ignoring the glacial air, as I picked up the journal and purposely opened it from the back.
I looked down and learn the particular date of her latest entry. My chest heaved the moment I realized it had just been written the day before.
Since we hadn't spoken about it, I desperately wanted to cognise how she truly felt about what happened between us the day we moved in. I realized I might not like what I read. Yet, I also had this gut flavour that something inside her wanted it to fall out too. In my mind, the possibility was so tantalizing that the forbidden fervor of even thinking about it quickly consumed me. At that stop, I wanted a way to make the consequence even better. I wasn't sure where the idea came from, maybe from being in such a inhuman room. Or maybe it was just my natural instincts taking over as I walked over and pulled heart-to-heart my female parent's top drawer.
I opened it to retrieve a luxurious chain reactor of gamy timbre women's hosiery, in a concourse of coloration, normal and heaviness levels. I studied the pile, breathing heavily over the bounteousness of nylon undergarments spread out before me like an all-you-can-eat pantyhose buffet. I rummaged through the pile, searching until my custody came across a plumage visible radiation pair of silky, midnight Shirley Temple pantyhose brushing against my fingers.
Carefully pulling them from the drawer, I made my way over to the bed, removing my denim and underclothes, before nervously sitting down to work out the logistics of getting them on.
Admittedly, it wasn't pretty. Still, I managed to flub my way through it, taking instructions from the computer memory of watching Mom put them on under her jeans. With the pantyhose drawn up over my knees, I then had to run out stretching the nylon over my prick and egg. My dick stood up like a sword lily pole as I stretched the delicate threading to its limit point, drawing the waistband respective inches away from my navel while I reached down and held the shaft flat up against my stomach. That first moment of total encasement from the waistline down filled my unanimous body with tingling electricity. I wasn't for sure why I'd waited to so long to try them on, but the pleasance sweeping through me as I stood there rubbing my own liquid legs took me to a spirit level of excitement I'd never even imagined, by taking her pantyhose and trapping my penis beneath the fabric, making me feel right at home.
Ready to start reading, I anxiously sat down, as my leg started bouncing and twitching from overexcitement. Between my female parent letting me cum on her ass, Cynthia showing me her tits, and the crazy expectancy of what I had yet to record, it was a marvel I didn't instantly blow my onus as I felt Mom's pantyhose smashed up against my cock.
The intensity running through me, combined with the lingering effect of the weed, sent me into a dreamlike state as I quietly turned down to the page.
September 30th, 2012
I'm really worried about Chris. He's been acting different lately. I love him to death and I can't helper feeling responsible for what happened today. I know he's getting older and he's basically develop enough to make his own decisions. Still, it's obvious he has sealed tendencies that are far too dangerous to overlook. I was able to look past the piercings and the tattoos. I could even ignore all the pot he smokes and his disturbing appetency for smut. But how can I possibly ignore this off-the-wall obsession he has with me ? It's almost like he's turned into an creature. The way he exposed himself so brazenly like that, it's something I'll never get over. I'm still not sure why I said those things. It's hard to even stomach the view of letting him degrade me that way. I know that I've done some pretty slutty things in my life, but this isn't some random guy I met at a bar. This is my son, my own flesh and descent. What kind of mother would I be to let him call up what he did was okay ? It doesn't matter how much I enjoyed it. There's cypher wrong with enjoying the touch of somebody finding me attractive. I liked seeing him get hard for me. Who wouldn't like seeing that ? For once, I was proud of him for having the self-assurance to force it out so fearlessly. I never actually touched it, but I must say from a distance it was a middling decent size, surprising in fact. His body has gotten so rip since he started kickboxing. Maybe that explains why he's gotten so fast-growing lately. I wish there was someone I could speak to about this. Now that I know he likes seeing me in pantyhose, how can we continuing living together ? Maybe I should aid him see someone, just to get his mind on something else ? God, this is crazy. I missed him so much and I just finally got him back. I know there's a way we can work this out, as long as I'm able to check myself estimable that he can. Guess we'll just have to await and see…
As I finished the transit, I set down the daybook and sprawled out onto the bed. I laid back and shut my eye, letting her words replay in my head, as I quietly drifted off to sleep.
I was suddenly woken up by the strait of Francis Scott Key jangling in the lock downstairs. I sat up and checked the clock. It was quarter past five. Mom was already domicile. I leapt off the bed, shoved the journal back in the box, then ran to my room with no time to direct off her pantyhose. I threw on some blue jean, slid on a couplet of wind cone, and promptly walked down to greet her sudden arriver, staying as calm as I could.
"You're family early,"I said, entering the kitchen, where Mom was standing with her back turned, flipping through a stack of detritus mail, as I noticed a bag of market resting on the counter.
"Got off early,"she said, spinning grimace forward with a warm grin."I texted you but you must've been sleeping or something,"she added.
Like always, she looked rather nice in her stylish gray business enterprise wooing. The color was a little drab, but the cut was extremely flatter, especially the hemline, which I greatly appreciated for cutting off right above mid-thigh, leaving More than enough leg on display where I could briefly pause to stare over the electroneutral color of the sheer whitish pantyhose stretching down to her white leather pump.
"Sorry, probably smoked too much,"I said, shrugging it off."So what's for dinner ?"
"fountainhead,"Mom said, as she stepped over and started to evacuate the bag."Since it's our first official home-cooked meal in our new billet, I went out and got stuff to make sheepherder's pie."
The bag Mom referred to was an Irish Gaelic casserole, made with onions, carrots, priming lamb or squawk, topped by a stratum of creamy mashed potato. It was also an inside joke among our menage.
Shepherd was the name Mom took when she got matrimonial, the figure she'd kept after the divorce so her last gens would still be the Same as mine. Mom could prepare almost anything, but her shepherd's pie was normally reserved for birthdays and other limited occasions.
"Cool,"I said."Shall I break out the good Communist China ?"
"No, you don't have to do that,"she said."I was just thinking that your father and I had the same affair for dinner when we moved into our first place. I figured since you're the new man of the menage, I should make it for you too."
Though it was unexpected, the idea of a tasty, home-cooked repast sounded pretty honest. For a instant, I didn't know what to say. Considering how she left that daybreak, I was fully expecting her to be highly perturbation when she got home. I had spent almost of the day stressing over it. I desperately wanted to pull in the air and would cause said something right then, but the smile on her face was so open and full of tenderness that it instantly stopped me from pointing out the elephant in the room. In that import, I could only assume that Mom had made the conclusion to move on like nothing had ever happened. So instead of confronting the subject point on, I did my best to ignore the tenseness between us, though it wasn't comfortable, especially when I could still feel her pantyhose against my legs.
Reacting to my silence, Mom quietly stood there squinting at me from across the room. She must have picked up on the storm of emotions swirling inside my headland as she calmly stepped toward me and slowly wrapped her arms around my neck. Her fragrance smelled like tidy sum confect as her hazel eyes cut right through me. Her hanker, steady gaze calmed me to the point where the panic inside me gradually started to languish away.
"Why are you so tense ?"she said, massaging between my neck and shoulders.
"Not indisputable,"I said,"just been a strange couple of days."
"Yes it has,"she said."But it's also been pretty squeamish,"she added. Then, out of nowhere, she leaned in close adequate where I could feel the passion of her breath. Then she softly kissed me on the rim. It wasn't long a kiss, more like a flock. Still, it wasn't something she'd ever done before.
"What was that ?"I said, praying she wouldn't experience my hard-on against her this time.
"Just my way of saying thank you,"she answered."I've never told you how much I missed you all this meter. It means so much that you're uncoerced to give up your freedom to inhabit with your crazy, old mom. I want you to know no matter what happens, you're still my son and I'll always love you."
It was all I could do not to catch her and buss her as firmly as I could. The twinkle her in eye gave me the feeling she might not pull away, as I boldly prepared to run in and crusade my mouth firmly against hers.
"So what's with the camera on the dining table ?"she said, throwing me off.
I stammered for a moment, quickly winking, trying to roll up my thought process. In hindsight, perhaps I should feature lied about it. Instead, I stood there pressed up against her chest, with a meek grin on my grimace, as I calmly proceeded to explain how Cynthia had stopped by earlier, noticed the camera in the office and thought it would be cool down to give Joel some sexy photos for their day of remembrance. I assumed Mom would translate it was all in fun, but the frown on her fount immediately told me otherwise.
"You seem spooky about it,"she said, quirking her promontory to the side."Are you sure she just wanted pictures, or did something else happen that you're not telling me ?"
The latent hostility in her body felt like she was bracing for a major shock absorber. Her centre stared intently as she quietly held her hint.
"I never touched her, if that's what you're thinking."
Mom blinked back at me, eerily quiet as she sniffled and flipped her hair.
"She was telling me something about the child,"I continued."Then somehow we got on the topic of chest milk. At maiden, it was all pretty touchstone. Then she asked if I wanted to try some."
Mom's eyebrow shot up as she looked back and suddenly blurted,"Did you ?"
She knew my reply the moment I turned away. Before I could break off her, she angrily pushed me back, turned to her left field and promptly marched down the hall.
"What are you doing ?"I said, chasing her toward the dining room.
"Deleting those picture show before Joel hears about this,"she said."The last affair we need is a reason for him to throw us out."
As I entered the dining way, Mom had already picked up the camera and powered it on. I came up behind her reaching for it, as she scanned through the delineation one at a time.
I could hear the hurt in her spokesperson as she looked down and studied the pictures with disbelief.
"Why would you do this ?"she whispered.
"Mom, it's nothing,"I said."You know that I've always wanted to do this for a keep. It's just a way to set forth my portfolio."
Slowly, she turned around, head down, as I reached up and held her by the berm. The hair falling over her look made it difficult to see her verbalism, as I stood there and quietly rubbed her berm, trying to soothe her.
Finally, with tears welling in her eyes, she looked back, voice trembling as she softly whispered,"Then why didn't you ask me ?"
Her words struck me like a dash of lightning. Without thinking, I lunged forward and kissed her with More passionateness than a soldier returning from war. Her lips parted, surprisingly accepting my tongue, returning my lust-filled explosion with the same intense urging.
We stood there feverishly making out with each other for God knows how long. Our hands roamed everywhere, groping each other's bodies in a wild frenzy. The wonderful texture as I ran my fingerbreadth through her silky dark-brown hair's-breadth, combined with the rush of feeling her pantyhose pressed up against my cock, stirred me to hand down and jostle both hands under her skirt, running my manpower over her skintight pantyhose with no excuse, as I boldly switched between sliding my fingers over every inch of that silky nylon and firmly gripping her hose-covered ass, with her lithesome cheeks yielding to the insistency of my clenching fingers, as I stood there squeezing her fleshy buttocks through a slender layer of pantyhose like I'd dreamed of doing for so many years.
I flinched as Mom reached down and quickly unzipped my fly. I was tempted to bar her, knowing the secret inside my jeans. Yet, I still couldn't bring myself to reach down and snap up her by the wrist. I was too distracted by the unfitness of the nylon against my fingers, helpless to stop my custody from steadily caressing her hose-covered pelvic girdle and second joint, as she urgently reached through my capable slide fastener, trying in vain to feel my cock, only to be blocked by a pair of her very own pantyhose, gasping in shock.
There was aught I could say, as she looked up and squinted at me once again. As I felt her finger softly caress me through me through the nylon, a import of soundless recognition passed between us, where placing her hand against the smooth, dark fibers of the pantyhose hidden inside my jean opened a portal leading to the darkness of forbidden sex.
Slowly, my mother began tracing her fingers over the synopsis of my bulging shaft. I could hardly conceive my gorgeous female parent was actually touching my dick, let alone smiling as I felt her hand slowly begin rubbing and squeezing my hard-on through the pantyhose.
"How long has this been going on ?"she asked.
"Not long,"I said."I've actually never worn them before today."
"Oh, really ?"she answered."Well, how does it feel ?"she asked, as I stood there reeling from the joy of her delicate speck, with her fingerbreadth gliding over the ridgepole of my corpse, pulsating shaft, light as a feather, never stopping to look up, focusing intently on every twitch, as if learning my rickety pip, while brushing the lead of her fingerbreadth against my sensitive glans.
My result described the feeling of both her hand and the pantyhose, pausing to savor the dizzying adept, letting the pleasure absorb through my genitals, spreading through every cell of my consistence, as I faintly whispered,"Soft, warm, maybe a little close, but not uncomfortable."
The point of her nail circled around the tip of my pecker, slowly moving down to my aching egg. Her voice returned, thrilling me with her sultry tone.
"Well, sometimes a little chasteness can be effective for you,"she said."But I do take to say one thing. I can't deny my feelings any more than than you can. So I'm leave to let us make for with each early but only so much."
"okay,"I said, nodding respectfully."So what exactly does that entail ?"
"I don't know,"she replied."Let's just charter this one step at a time."
"That's fine,"I said."Just knowing you're O.K. with my fetich is good enough for me."
"Oh, don't worry,"she said."As they say, the acorn doesn't fall far from the tree."
With her Edward White bounder still on, she then lifted her left leg and lightly began grazing it against my shaft, bending her knee and dragging it up and down over the nylon in a grating motion, as if purposely trying to increase the detrition, mounting the pressure inside my balls.
I swooned with delight as she pressed her knee up against me, grabbing her from derriere, forcing our dead body to fuse together as closely possible.
"Like that ?"she whispered, knowing full well the force she was having on me.
"topper notion in the man,"I said, making her smile.
"Oh, I don't know about that,"she replied."I'm sure I can win over you otherwise. Tell me what else you like."
"I like looking at you,"I answered sincerely.
She liked hearing that, smiling brilliantly, with a dazzling flip of her hair, as I watched her quietly step back toward the dining table.
Slowly, she turned around facing away from me, keeping her heel together, as she leaned forward and seductively arched her back. My eyes settled where the gibbosity of her ass pushed back against her doll, as she reached back and quickly pulled down the zipper. With one paw on each side of her wench, she forcefully ripped it down. As it fell to the flooring, she placed her hands over the pantyhose tight up against her rear. The nylon dominance top that stretched out across her ass was thicker and even bloodless than the nylon extending down her ramification.
"Is this a just slant ?"she said, smiling over her shoulder.
"It's beyond good,"I said, shaking my head.
"Take a picture, it'll last longer,"she said.
I heeded her password promptly, leaning over to pick up the television camera where she'd left it on the storey. She patiently waited, holding the like pose, as I did my best to go on my hands steady, fighting through shaky nerves.
I shifted the lens vertically, wanting to capture the entire extension of her branch, ensuring her heels were visible in the frame. My upheaval was so consuming I could barely maintain my concentration. The embodiment of all my fantasies stood just a few steps away. Clearly, she could see how badly I wanted her. There was surd physical evidence straining under the insistency of her restrictive pantyhose. Yet, I sensed her distinct enjoyment of our forbidden stimulation by the seductive manner in which she playfully indulged my fetish.
I continued taking pictures as she leaned all the way over, laying her chest across the table. Her prone position beautifully emphasized the curvature of her ass, while the inclination brawniness of her stage seemed to elongate even more.
From there, she returned to an upright spatial relation, turning to face the window. She noticed a president inches away, then raised her left leg, setting her dog on top of the seat. She flipped her fuzz, striking another mannerism, letting her blazer slide down over her left shoulder. While I continued clicking away, I couldn't help watching the gesture of her mitt rubbing back and Forth against her leg. She seemed to bask feeling the fabric against her hide, caressing the nylon with such affectionateness that I suddenly became drunk with lust.
The blazer came off as I watched her lay it down neatly on the board. Beneath it was a sexy demi-cut bra, bluish-green, with lace semi-circles covering the lower half of each chest, combined with an underwire to push out the alluring fullness of her bust, setting her tits gamey atop her chest.
She turned face forward where I then noticed that the bra was portion of a matching set. The sheerness of the nylon enabled me to piss out a high-cut thong of the Same lacy fabric and coloring. She didn't wait long to shift into yet another striking airs as she hopped onto the board, swishing the nylon with another rousing leg interbreeding, as I held up the camera and focused on the blanched heel dangling from her left foundation.
Finally, with her shoes still on, she leaned all the way back, keeping her legs perfectly straight as she lifted them up, holding them together, with her heels pointed toward the roof. I watched as she crooked her head to the right, snapping another picture with her wooden leg elevated and the side of meat of her brass peeking back at me with the naughtiest grin I'd ever seen.
I asked for one more and she happily complied by spreading her branch in a"V"formation, where she reached down and placed her leftfield hired hand over the cotton wool venire between her peg. I held up the camera for one finally affectation, framing the final shot so her face was centered between her open legs, as she scrunched her eyes together, parted her lips, and bit down on one of her knuckle joint, feigning an facial expression of orgasmic bliss which left me completely speechless.
The vision was so compelling that I instantly tore off everything including my windsock. She instantly saw me coming as she sat up and greeted me with open arms. Our lips melted together as I rushed my manpower down to the nylon, rubbing the pantyhose against her thighs with her ramification wrapped around my waist.
I went down and suckled her neck, quickly removing her bra. She leaned back, giving me enough elbow room to reach up and caress her breasts. She let out a moan as my finger made contact with her swollen teat, rolling and pinching them as I watched her centre roll back with rapture.
By then, my penis was begging for discharge. Still, I wasn't certain how far she was unforced to go. I tested the water supply by gently easing her off the table, spinning her around, then pressing my aching erection flat up against her butt. She leaned back, keeping our steaming oral cavity bonded together, swirling her tongue against mine.
Keeping one hired hand firmly attached to her breasts, I took the former and slid it down over her stomach, wedging my fingers inside her scanty, where I reached down and penetrated her pussy with my mediate finger. Her lips parted as she moaned deeply against my mouth. The wetness inside her confirmed the decisive condition of her stimulation. Her rose hip slowly began to swivel as I pulled out my finger's breadth and lightly proceeded to rub her button.
Within indorsement, she was panting heavily. Her unharmed consistency started to tremble. It seemed I was on to something so naturally I rubbed faster, causing her to shake even more. For once in my life, I was actually in controller, using my fingers to exercise Mom's puss into a foamy swither.
"Are you prepare to cum ?"I whispered, stoking the flames even more.
Her reply came with a serial publication of fits and stutters as she reached up and grabbed me by the hair.
"Huhhh, yes, oh God ! Oh God, I'm cumming. Yes, I'm cumming !"
From there, I heard null but a long, unbendable moan. Her case grimaced as her sass flung open, moaning and wailing through red tremors vibrating against my cock. Her gasp hint gradually became more convention as the smell of her warm juices permeated the room with the musky aroma of her sex.
Swept by the current of taboo lust, we hastily made our way toward the aliveness room. Mom led the way, taking me by the manus as I followed her over to the sofa. Mom stood over me as I lied down and stretched out lengthwise over the cushions. Once I was settled, she knelt down beside me, placing her manus against my dick.
The pantyhose felt like a cock ring keeping my pecker fully engorged under tight, restrictive bondage.
"You're leaking,"she said, referring to the pre-cum forming like dew around the head.
She reached down and gently squeezed my glob, aiding the current of watery liquid as her handwriting continued its journey along my shaft. Grabbing the waistband, she graciously tugged it down just enough to let my penis feel the air.
I deeply inhaled as she leaned forward and lowered her top dog, feeling her warm breathing spell around the tip. She flicked out her tongue, tasting the liquidity, mopping it like a quick study. I could barely move as she calmly proceeded to browse the tip of her tongue along the veiny ridge, patiently licking it all over, bathing my cock with spittle.
I moaned as she gently took hold of my pecker, balling her clenched fist around it, using the wet left by her knife to leisurely stroke it up and down.
I studied her face as she quietly jerked me off. Her eyes widened as the shaft extended under her skillful handling. She seemed to know exactly what she was doing, never once checking to see my chemical reaction as she blissfully continued stroking, just her and my penis, quietly bonding like it was more connected to her that it was to me.
I had learned my moral from the day before, choosing to be patient, instead of being too greedy, letting her go at her own pace.
"Do you bear in mind if I try something ?"she asked, flicking off her shoes.
I nodded back eagerly. She could have put wearing apparel pin tumbler on my mammilla and that would have been fine. By then, I was hers for the taking.
Instead, she did something far sweeter and more generous than that. She sat down on the opposite end of the sofa, swinging her legs up to rest them against my groin. Bending her knees, she nestled both foundation around my cock, placing the shaft between her delicate soles, grazing the nylon against it, as her silken arches softly continued to twitch me off.
Finally, my mother was giving me inaugural foot job. I honestly wasn't sure which was better, the touch sensation of her feet covered in nylon sweeping up and down my rooster or just the approximation that my mother was actually doing at all. Still, to this day, I don't eff how I was capable to keep myself from nutting all over her feet right then and there.
"That's a goodness boy. Let mammy flick you off with her feet,"she said."You like how those pantyhose feel around your dick, don't you ?"
I honestly couldn't speak. I was too engaged trying not to cum. I wanted to keep out as long as possible, never wanting it to end.
Using her strong leg muscleman with persistence, she continued pumping her human foot up and down my rooster until it turned purple. Finally, she needed a break, so she stood up and walked over to my end of the couch. She climbed up over my shoulders, straddled my head and lowered her privates smack down against my face.
She must have intended to muffle my groans as she bent down, wrapped her lips around my putz, then swallowed nigh of it straight down her throat. With one hand around it, her head started bobbing, jerking and sucking all at once. My hips started bucking and writhing off the sofa as she noisily sucked me with her eager backtalk. Meanwhile, my fount was smothered between her legs, where all I could rest was the air venting through the nylon smashed up against my nose. She literally started humping my face as I felt her saliva drip mould down, leaving lovesome puddles around my ball, all the patch maintaining a stabilise rhythm as my penis continued plunging down her throat, slurping and sucking with reckless abandon till she finally came up for air.
After a series of severely, frantic breaths, she sat up and stepped back down to the floor, giving me room to stand up beside her and flex her over the put, with her knees together and her ass served up for the pickings.
atrophy no time, I knelt down and smothered my face between her branch. I knew it was speculative. Still, I reached up and started to rive down her pantyhose and lash.
"What are you doing ?"she said, somewhat fearful.
"You'll see,"I said, exposing her naked cheeks, before palming them with both hands, then spreading them extensive open.
I dove in head first, lodging my tongue cryptic inside her asshole and holding it there until her rectal muscles started to contract. She squealed from the mo of sudden intromission, mashing her cheeks firmly against my side. I kneaded the limber material body as my tongue slowly began wriggling trench inside the narrow down crease. The brackish flavor deeply aroused me, worming my tongue in and out. Soon she was squirming and clawing at the cushions as her anus started to glisten from all my spit. I was eating her ass, my beautiful mother's ass, slobbering and licking it plum. From the sound of her moans, I knew that she loved it despite how lousy it might own been. I was starting to lose all sense of rationality, with no wish for how far I was starting to push my luck, instead pushing my clapper farther into the deepness of her spongy butthole, stabbing it in and out, determined to draw her kitty-cat flood until intellect had abandoned her too.
Finally, when I was satisfied that there was no spot left in her asshole where my clapper hadn't fully explored, I slid up her pantyhose, turned her over, then pulled her to the border of frame, with her legs folded and her animal foot lifted off the story.
Possessed by a need to ask broad advantage of my mother's hungriness for perversion, I pulled out my shaft and sandwiched it between her knees, gripping her thighs, with my hips sawing back and Forth, feeling her pantyhose tickle both English of my cock.
I pumped my shaft between her stifle, staring down at the wanton joy burning in her eyes. I savagely continued thrusting until finally it wasn't enough. Then I stood her up, twirl her around, and shoved my cock rightfield between her second joint. Not once did she utter a single charge as I stood there thrusting between her legs, blanketed with pantyhose on both sides.
Without her saying it, I slowly realized that my mother's submission was actually demonstrating her power to release all of my pent up frustration. In that moment, it suddenly became clear that she loved wearing pantyhose simply to be worshipped by men each and every day. For geezerhood, she'd subconsciously instilled me with the Sami twisted obsession, as I grew up under the turn of nylon dramatis personae by the dish of her shimmering legs.
Finally, with my hands locked firmly around her waist, driving my dick between her slick thighs furiously pumping back and Forth, only then was I truly capable to see how fully she possessed my psyche.
Eventually, the rising insistence building inside my bollock rose to a level much too hefty to contain.
"I think I'm about to cum,"I said, losing my rhythm.
Heeding my monition, she turned around and sat facing me, legs extended so her snow-covered lily-white pantyhose stretched down straight to the floor. Staring me in the eye, she reached over and firmly took hold of my cock. She leaned forward, briefly taking it inside her mouth, using lots of tongue as she generously slobbered the intumesce head. She then closed her fingerbreadth around my putz, tightening her fist as she firmly began milking my rod, jerking it with persistence as she gazed up into my eyes, giving clear instructions as she held my penis directly above her legs.
"I want you to cum as hard as you can,"Mom said."I just want to count down and see nothing except your hot creamy consignment all over these pantyhose,"she added, pumping away."That's it. number on, infant. Don't handle back. You don't have to anymore,"she continued breathlessly."I'm yours now, empathize ?"she whispered, spurring my release."These branch,"she said vividly."These pantyhose,"she offered oh so desperately."They're all yours, sister,"she stated earnestly."Now, go on. make Mommy's pantyhose nice and wet. Cum all over my pretty legs."
In that second, if I'd ever questioned the macrocosm of God, the auditory sensation of her voice made it blindingly obvious I was untimely. Nothing felt more transcendent than hearing those Holy Scripture echo through my head with such serious-mindedness that my ball imploded like ground zero, resulting in an epos cum shower, sheeting down wave after wave, sparing no part of my mother's body, as she sat there stroking without letup, draining me from the interior out, gaping as one furious blast followed another, when I finally looked down, stunned by the peck of cum oozing down not just her face, but also dripping from her wet sticky tits, while oozing over every stitch of pantyhose glued to her glistening thighs, seeping down into the nylon where Mom ran her fingers through the greasy slime, smiling as she reached up to savor the salty residuum, slurping it in her mouth like she'd never tasted anything quite so sweet.
It took me a second to get my comportment, leaning against the arm of the lounge as I patiently waited for the room to stop over spinning. As I looked over, Mom was still busy cleaning the pasty motion-picture show off her fingers.
"Mmm,"she said, licking her sass."There's nothing better than teenage cum,"she added, shooting me a nictation."Oh, that reminds me. I almost forgot about dinner. You must be starving."
"I'm soundly,"I answered, with a mild shrug."Actually, I was thinking maybe I should prepare for you."
Mom quirked her head."You want to make dinner ?"she asked, raising an eyebrow."Are you sure you know how to micturate it ?"
"I'm sure I can manage. I've seen you make it a century times. It can't be that hard."
"Hmm, okay, if you insist,"she said, standing up."I'll text Artemis and tell her to come by tomorrow. If you need any help, just let me get laid. But first, I should probably jump in the shower."
"Go right ahead. I'll probably stair out and have a cigarette first anyway,"I told her.
"audio well,"Mom said."In the meantime, delight think about cancelling that photo shoot with Artemis. I really think you're performing with fire."
"Mom, I swear, nothing will go on,"I said."You can rely me."
As soon as I said it, Mom reached over and touched me on the shoulder.
"Chris, how can I trust you ?"she said."You haven't exactly been the model of self-control lately."
"Oh, and you have ?"
"Well, maybe not, but that isn't the peak,"she said."We just found this place. And I know you like it here as practically as I do. Why would you desire to put on the line losing it so soon ?"
"Fine, I'll think about it,"I said, nodding my head.
"Thank you,"she said."That's all I'm asking."
With that, she headed upstairs, leaving me to figure out dinner on my own.
It took me some time, still I managed to produce something resembling shepherd's pie, when Mom came over wearing her bathrobe, joining me at the table. She sat down, poured two glasses of wine, then reached down to bravely guide her first bite.
The look on her face as she slowly began to chew immediately told me something was wrong.
"Umm, did you season this ?"Mom asked.
"Uh yeah,"I said, frowning at her reaction."Yeah, I think so. Is it bad ?"
"fountainhead, it's the thinking that counts,"she said, as she reached over and patted the dorsum of my hand.
"Um, why don't we just go out to eat ?"I suggested."I know you've been wanting to try that Mexican billet in Cambridge."
Mom instantly perked up."Oh, that's right,"she said."That seat with the big margaritas and the salsa dancing. I'll even wear one of my really short circuit dresses so you can show me off."
"Perfect,"I said, smiling."Just don't forget the pantyhose,"I added, like she needed to be reminded.
"Oh, confidence me, sweetie. You'll be seeing me a lot of me in pantyhose from now on,"she replied."Just try not to tell anyone I'm your mother when we get there, okay ?"
"Um, okay,"I said, feeling a bit confused."So what should I secernate masses if somebody asks ?"
"Easy,"she said, as she looked up, flashing her sexy smile."If anyone asks you who I am, then all you should do is tell them the truth."
"Oh, and what's that ?"I said, as she glanced up over the rim of her glass, whispering her result as she slowly set it back down.
"Exactly what you've always wanted me to be,"she said, as she stood up, walked over and slowly sat across my lap. She leaned in for a wet, lingering buss, sliding her lingua inside my mouth, filling it with the sweet taste of wine, before slowly pulling her backtalk away.
"Technically, I'm still your female parent,"she said."But from this day forward, I want you to conceive of me as your girlfriend. I'll wear whatever you want me to wear. I'll do whatever you want me to do. I'll be your personal loose woman, your very own soma and blood fancy. And I promise to never stop wearing pantyhose as long as you promise to save all your cum just for me."

The End
right of first publication @ 2013
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