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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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Mum and Me - 4
by John Jabbin (jjabbin@yahoo.com)
***
The continuing story of a 15 year old son dominating his
mum, making her his cum dump and forcing her to enjoy
it. (mdom/F, inc, teen/adult, d/s, voy)
***
Author Note: Feedback is the only price that most
authors that post to ASSM ask. If you want to read more,
you ought to pay the price by letting me know you liked
this perverse tale. Writers need feedback in order to
become better writers. If you don't let us know what you
like, don't complain that there are no good stories. Any
comments, bad or good, are welcome. Write me at the e-
mail address above.
If you're a minor, don't read this. If it's illegal in
your country to be in possession of stories about sex,
please destroy all copies of this work. Practice safe
sex reading please.
***
PART FOUR
Since the day I had decided to take my Mum as a lover, I
had begun a patient, meticulous plan to seduce the most
beautiful woman in my world. I knew I had to bring Mum
around slowly to the idea of it. I had to learn to be
patient.
To make matters even more complicated, my goal wasn't
just an adolescent shagging of the old gal. What I
wanted more than anything was to take more and more
control of our lives. I know that at fifteen that runs
against the grain, but as I grew up I could see more and
more that I had a real need to be in control of my own
life. Just as important to me, I had a real need to be
in control of another person, of someone I was close to
and intimate with.
There was no one in my world that I felt closer to than
Mum and no girl I wanted to be intimate with more than
her. It wasn't just a hopeless idea either, not in my
mind. I had a couple of distinct advantages going here.
First of all, Mum was lonely. I had seen that already.
She craved my attention almost as much as I craved hers.
She could even put up with a bit of nonsense from me
that she didn't particularly enjoy just on the hopes of
more attention and companionship.
And another distinct advantage that I had to my plan was
that I believe Mum's own natural inclinations ran in
this direction. She was a sensuous woman that wanted to
be touched and I think she wanted to be submissive to a
man. Mum had never shown any natural inclination to be
bossy with me like some mums are to their sons. What I
remember of Dad, he had certainly been the more dominant
of the two of them. Already in her responses to my
attentions, Mum had shown that her natural instincts
were to follow my lead. So far she had regretted that
afterwards, but before she set up her guard, she had
been willing to let me lead her down the path of my own
interest.
So, starting that Sunday morning I set out to achieve my
ends with patience and determination.
Mum always liked to go to church on Sunday morning even
though she wasn't particularly religious. She never
insisted that I go, but I tagged along with her enough
to know the liturgy and to not be a stranger to the
inside of a church. With the hangover of guilt I was
sure that she'd be feeling, I was certain that she'd be
going this morning. As usually I was up bright and early
long before her. Mum's a sound sleeper that has to have
a good eight hours. I rarely sleep more than four or
five myself. I think I get that from my Dad.
So I woke up early and fixed us both a light breakfast.
As soon as the coffee was brewing and filling the whole
house with its aroma, I heard Mum stirring. I had some
biscuits and sausage done by the time she was down.
Mum wore an old robe that was quite unattractive. I'd
have to get her another one soon. Even so, I sat a cup
of hot coffee in front of her and a plate of food and
kissed her good morning and asked her how she had slept.
She mumbled something and I asked her if she was going
to church this morning and if I could tag along. She
perked up a bit at that and when she nodded more
affirmatively, I told her I was going upstairs to take a
shower to get ready.
I just took a quick one since I hadn't been out since
yesterday, but I left the door open so that when Mum
came upstairs from breakfast she had to walk the length
of the hall before she turned off to her bedroom. The
whole time she had to be looking at my naked arse
toweling myself off.
Nudity had never been an issue in our house before. We
had no rules against it or any locks on the doors inside
the flat. To be true, I'd only seen Mum in partial
undress on several rare occasions and could only imagine
that the reverse was true for her. I had plans to change
that though and this morning's shower was the opening
salvo of my nudity campaign.
As soon as I knew she was past the door and had to have
gotten an eyeful, I hurriedly finished off and went to
my room and changed into white shirt and black slacks. I
rushed throwing on my socks and dress shoes and grabbed
my red tie on the way back to Mum's bedroom.
As I came into her room I surprised her with just her
bra and a white half-slip on. Well, I would assume there
were panties under the slip too, though I doubted
seriously I would see them.
"John! I'm still getting dress," Mum said exasperatedly.
"I can see that, but you're decent. Would you mind tying
my tie for me? You know how clumsy I am with it and you
always end up re-tying it anyway."
"Okay, come here lad, though why you're in such a hurry
today I don't understand. Now stand still while I do
this."
Stand still I did as Mum stood before me with her proud,
full breasts encased in nothing but lovely white cotton.
It wasn't as though I could see much, but something
about seeing a woman in her underwear is very exciting
to a young man. Every now and then Mum would look up
into my eyes to see where I was staring. Most of the
time I was able to meet her gaze, though several times
she could me looking at her lovelies.
"There you go," Mum said taking a step back after
finishing. "You almost look presentable if you
straighten up your hair."
"Mind if I use your comb here," I said taking her
suggestion as a excuse to linger. "What are you wearing
to church?"
Mum pulled out a dress from her closet and held it in
front of her between us, no doubt in some small attempt
to cover herself up.
"I think I'll wear this blue one," she said as though to
herself.
"I don't suppose you'd want to wear the red one we
bought yesterday?" I countered.
"That's hardly a church frock, John. I don't know if
I've even courage enough to wear it to work, but I know
I can't wear it to church," she said giggling, no doubt
thinking of the deep neckline of her new dress and its
tight waistline that accentuated her breasts and hips.
"Well, you'd look lovely in that blue one then,
especially with those black heels," I suggested.
"Which heels?" she asked questioningly.
"You know... well, let me show you," I said walking past
her until I was standing in her closet doorway.
A woman's closet is a wonderful place. Filled with all
her garments, it smells of her. The texture of the
fabrics makes a young man want to linger. As I stooped
to look at the shoes on the floor, I could almost
imagine looking up Mum's dresses with her inside them. I
drew forth a pair of black, three-inch heels... the
highest heels Mum had and ones she rarely wore except on
special occasions.
"This pair Mum. Not only do they make your legs look
nice, but when you wear them we're almost the same
height."
"Not for long, young man. You're growing taller each
day. Since it's only for a couple of hours, I'll indulge
you. Normally though, on Sunday the last thing I want to
do it wear a set of heels."
I sat down on Mum's rumpled bed and watched her as she
dressed. At first she seemed reluctant to put the dress
on with me watching, which seems a bit ridiculous when
you consider that I was already seeing her without it.
But, after what looked like a moment of internal debate,
she drew on the dress over her head.
I stepped forward and helped Mum by zipping up the back
of the dress. Mum froze, uneasy as I did so, I think
half expecting me to reach around and grope her. But I
was on my best behavior and other then taking a deep
smell of her hair as I pulled up on the zipper and
straightened out the fall of the shoulders, I was a
gentleman.
But then it came time to put on her stockings before she
had to slip on her shoes. Having gotten them from her
lingerie drawer, Mum dawdled, half expecting me to leave
and give her some privacy to slip them on.
Still, I was determined to see it through until she
asked me to leave, but she never did.
As she sat on the bed beside me, Mum gathered a pair of
the stockings in her hands and then slipped her right
foot, the one closest to me, into the toe of the
stockings. Seeing Mum's dainty little foot going into
the nylons was a fascinatingly erotic thing for me. It
seemed to happen in slow motion as Mum smoothed the
stocking along her foot and ankle and agonizingly slowly
up her calf. Then she stood and turned her body away
from me while hiking up her dress to slip it on the rest
of the way.
I grinned to myself, a bit disappointed that I hadn't
gotten a good glimpse of hip and cunt, but thrilled that
we had gotten this far. She did the same procedure with
the left leg and stocking, though I was sorely tempted
to rush around and have a peak at her as she pulled them
up and snugged and straightened them on her thigh.
These didn't have garters, much to my dismay, but I
almost asked her if she had any that required them. I'd
just love to see Mum putting on a pair of stocking with
garters, and love even more to see her removing them.
That was about all the fun of getting ready, though she
did allow me to help her brush her hair. I found a
sustained enjoyment of helping Mum get ready and she
even listened to my suggestions of which lipstick she
should wear and how she should style herself. It was
almost as though I were in charge of her getting
dressed. One day, I thought to myself, I will be more
overtly in charge of just that, Mum. Then you'll see how
well I love you and take care of you.
As we sat in church that morning I couldn't help but
think what a lovely family and couple we made. Mum
looked young for her age. I fancied that I looked old
for mine. Certainly everyone saw the age difference, but
to my mind a stranger might easily think here was a
young woman that just fancied a young man as her lover.
The church was crowded and we had to sit close to one
another. Mum's thigh and mine pressed against one
another almost the whole time.
It was a very strange experience thinking of church with
Mum as an erotic experience, but it was. As we stood to
say the prayers, I brought my hand to hers and she held
mine tightly. As we queued up together and came forward
for communion, we were equals kneeling together waiting
for the priest. Afterward, as we stood and walked back
to our pew, I guided Mum with my hand in the small of
her back. It was a lovely experience to be dressed up
with her and touching her so intimately in public.
I found myself more and more enjoying this touching. I
don't know why I hadn't done this before and Mum seemed
to enjoy me being close. None of the things I was doing
was overtly sexual, so she was hard pressed to deny
them. Even so, the constant rubbing and touching,
especially the thought of doing it in public, was very
exciting to me.
And I think the touching even affected Mum as well. She
seemed almost intoxicated with the attention. So much so
that even after we got home, the touching didn't stop.
We had both gone into the kitchen and were standing in
front of the fridge considering what to have for lunch,
when I put my arms around her and pulled her tight
against me. I didn't think about doing it or plan it. It
was just something that seemed natural and the right
thing to do.
Mum just seemed to melt into my arms. Her tight, sexy
ass pressed back against me and for just a second I
heard a moan escape her lips. The spontaneity of her
response to my embrace surprised us both and after that
brief, initial response, Mum scooted away and left the
room, leaving me standing in the middle of the kitchen
with a raging hard-on.
As much as I wanted to be patient, I was still only
fifteen and at the moment a very horny young man. I went
upstairs and took off my pants and shirt, tossing my
shoes and dress socks into the corner.
I pulled my cock out of my briefs and began to jack my
meat up and down, thinking about my lovely Mum. As I
closed my eyes, I imagined Mum kneeling before me taking
my prick into her lipsticked-mouth. Her hand reached
beneath me and massaged my balls and the shaft of my
prick went deeper and deeper into her mouth. She was
slick and warm, just like I imagined her mouth or cunt
would be. I had been sucked by several of the
neighborhood sluts and even fucked a couple of them, but
I had never had a mature woman Mum's age. I imagined her
cunt to be even more ripe and wonderful than those
little girls.
And suddenly, at just the thought of that, in my mind
Mum was underneath me and my cock was buried in her
cunt. She was squirming, pushing herself against me. My
hand was flying over my shaft, pumping fiercely. I was
moaning out her name and feeling her beneath me and
suddenly I was cumming, my sperm leaping into the air
and falling to splatter on my chest and stomach.
My orgasm was as intense as any I had ever had and I
felt like I came gallons. Trying to catch my breath, I
looked down at the mess I had made and started searching
for something to clean myself up with. A motion caught
my eye and I saw, in a glance, that I had inadvertently
left the door cracked open. I saw the twirl of the hem
of a dress and Mum's strawberry blonde hair going down
the stairway, away from my door.
I hadn't intended Mum to see me cum but thinking back on
it, at least if she did, she had spied on a good one. As
I lay back, I thought about Mum watching me as I jacked
off and I started to get hard again. My hand
automatically went to my cock and I started to slowly
pump it, thinking about Mum watching me.
Continued in part 5...
More stories by this author available at:
http://www.asstr.org/files/Authors/Jabbin/
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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life in
any way, shape or form. Anyone tempted to act out any
of the scenarios in this story should seriously consider
seeking professional help.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 80