Patreon LogoYour support makes Blue Moon possible (Patreon)

Son moves back in (CougarGirl with GenderBender)

CougarGirl

CougarGirl

Star
Joined
Nov 5, 2013
Location
A place in Wales that you can't pronounce
'Of course, darling, you're welcome to come to stay. There's plenty of room, so we won't get in each other's way.'

She had to say that, of course she did. Her son was in the middle of a training contract with a large firm of lawyers in the City of London, when his lease came to an end and his flatmates wanted to move on. It was the simplest and obvious solution, until he qualified as a lawyer and could afford to buy a home for himself.

It was just that, well she had got used to being on her own, and having him around could cramp her style.

Still, he'd be out a lot of the time and, like she said, there was plenty of room for both of them to live their separate lives.

She certainly hoped so.
 
James arrived at his mother's house on Saturday laden with his clothing and other possessions. He let himself in with his key and called out. No reply, so he staggered to his room and dumped his bags.

It felt strange coming back here, not just to visit, but to live again. That opened his eyes. It was a large house and he and his mother had stayed there when his father had left. Well, been thrown out actually. He still remembered the scene, the shouting and screaming in the hallway as he watched unseen from the landing. He had never wondered how she could afford to maintain a house like this. But, with his adult's eyes and a salary in his bank account, he knew he would have to offer to pay some rent

Another shout and still his mother did not respond, so he decided to wash the dirty clothes he had brought with him. They did not fill the washing machine, so he checked the laundry basket and began to add his mother's washing on top of his.

At first the clothes were just her everyday wear. Then he came across a pair of stockings. Not what he had expected his mother to wear, but why not? Then he came to more underwear. Different from what had been on the top of the basket. All good quality, but silky soft and very skimpy. Did his mother really wear this stuff? An image came into his mind, which he immediately pushed aside.

Then he noticed the stains. The cold stiff stains in the crotch of a red and black thong. I sniffed. Felt ashamed and thrust the thong back into the basket.

He must not let his mother know he had found these.

He emptied the machine of all her stuff and returned it to the basket hoping she would not notice they had been disturbed.

Why had he never thought of his mother being in a relationship?
 
"Darling, that is so thoughtful of you, but I couldn't let you pay rent. You're my son and this is your home. I can pay all the bills, so no problem. If you want to contribute, what you could do is help with the chores. Like some cleaning or some laundry. I see you've already done a load of washing."

She had been in a blind panic when she saw he had used the washing machine. And so relieved when she found he had not touched her clothes, not got to the bottom of the basket. She had to make sure that didn't happen again.

Her mind raced to move on from the subject of how she paid the bills.

"And while we're on the subject of this being your home, feel free to bring your friends round. They're welcome to stay over. I mean if you have a girlfriend, or," why was she finding it so difficult to have an adult conversation, "or boyfriend for that matter."

They had never talked about his sexuality, but he didn't talk about girls much, which made her wonder if he was gay. Not that she minded.
 
Damn. It was tricky having an adult conversation about sex with your mother. But she had brought it up so he had better set her straight.

'No, mum, I'm not gay.' Should he add that she had no need to worry on that score? Was she worried anyway? He didn't know and didn't want to prolong this conversation, so he said no more. But there was still the question of girls.

'As for girls, well I am not in a relationship, not at the moment.' Actually he hadn't been ever. He had hung out with lots of girls and some showed every sign of wanting that to continue, but he had always been the one to move on. 'I guess I just haven't met Miss Right yet.'

Hopefully she would not pursue that topic. And the best way to avoid her doing just that was to introduce a diversion.

'Look, mum, I know you've lived here alone since, well, since I went to uni. If I am in the way at all, you know, if you want to have someone round to stay, just tell me. OK? I can make myself scarce for the evening, or even stay with friends, for a weekend maybe, so you can have some time to yourself. Or with someone.'

What a pathetic ending. Why not just say, let me know if you want to shag a guy and I'll keep out of the way. That would have been the way he would have spoken to anyone else. But this wasn't anyone else.
 
'Thanks, darling, you are so considerate. But I don't need you to keep out of the way. You'll find that I am out in the evenings quite a lot, so you can gave the place to yourself.'

That had difficult. Still he wasn't gay, which was a big relief. And he had been generous to offer to make himself scarce if she wanted some me-time.

She checked her calendar. Yes, she was not meeting up until 7:30, plenty of time to get ready.

In her room, she selected her outfit for the evening. A black bra with red half cups, and a matching set of pants, black with red crotch panel. Red stockings. She stood in front of the mirror and checked her appearance in the full length mirror. Bending low to see her breasts almost topple out of the bra. Standing with his legs wide and hands on hips. Twisting to get a view of how the pants cut across her buttocks. The stocking stayed up on their own, but some guys liked a suspender belt. She racked her memory, she really should keep a note of personal preferences. Yes, she was sure, almost sure anyway, and no harm done if she got it wrong.

Now the dress. Grey jersey, clingy material that kept riding up, and figure hugging too. Always popular. All set off with grey heels.

And a coat, with her son around that was essential. A light overcoat that would not be hot but concealed her dress in case she met him on the stairs.

As luck would have it, she escaped from the house unobserved and made her way along the road until she found a taxi. She unbuttoned her coat as she sank back into the seat and saw the driver's eyes in his mirror as he took in the expanse of thigh that appeared. There was a smile on his face as he drove to the discreet hotel in the West End.

The receptionist handed over a room card without being asked, but the door of room 806 was ajar when she arrived.

'Carol, hi, good to see you again,' the deep voice welcomed her.

She slipped the coat off her shoulders and tossed it onto a chair.

'Likewise, Tyrell, good to see you too, it's been a long time, too long. How have you been doing?'
 
James heard the front door close and waited, counted to ten, then rushed to a window that overlooked the street, peeping out. His mother, wearing a light coat and heels, was walking away from the house. He went back to his room and forced himself to wait for half an hour before heading to his mother's room.



There he commenced a methodical search. To begin with, he found just what he would expect to find in a middle-aged woman's room. Everyday clothes, make up, jewellery, more personal stuff like tampons and panty liners, and there tucked at the back of a bottom draw, a vibrator with a supply of batteries. He smiled at the thought of his mother wanking herself on her bed.



That left one cupboard. When he opened it, he stood astonished. It was full of clothes, but very different ones from what he had found so far. Sexy clothes, like the ones he had found in the laundry basket. Silky, satin, lace. All good quality, but very revealing. Low cut bras, thongs, strings, suspender belts, stockings, high heels. The dresses, skirts and blouses were all tight fitting.



He almost overlooked the box, small and pushed to the side. It was a box of business cards. Cream with black letters in a very elegant script. Carol it said, in the centre, and below a mobile phone number and a web address. That was all.



Carol? That was his mother's middle name. Camilla Carol.



James scanned the room to make sure it looked as it had when he began his search. He left everything as it had been, except for taking one card.



Back in his room, he did not dare ring the number, but he could check the website. He reached for his laptop.
 
Carol prided herself on knowing her clients. That was, all the girls agreed on this, the key to success.

Some guys liked to be treated to a striptease, others liked to undress her, Tyrell was different. He liked it to be casual, just like a long married couple might approach sex without any preliminaries. He just wanted her to undress like they were preparing for bed.

So having helped herself to a drink, she simply unzipped her dress, stepped out if and laid it on top of her coat. Then off with the bra and the thong. No teasing, no turning away. Just normal undressing. They joined the dress in a neat pile. She didn't kick off her shoes, he liked her to keep those on.

That left her in stockings and suspender belt. She raised an eyebrow and he shook his head. They stayed on.

She went to sit on the bed while he undressed, turning his back. Off came his shoes and socks, off came his shirt and tie. Then, as he reached for his belt, he turned his back.

'Let me see.' Carol's voice was firm. He turned back and eased the trousers down his thighs.

'Fuck,' she sighed, 'damn and fuck, that's hot Tyrell. Has it grown?'

The guy grinned, she often said this. He shook his head. 'Isn't this big enough for you?'

'More than big enough,' she replied, 'you're going to rip me open.'

Seconds later, his trousers lay on the carpet and he had climbed onto the bed, pushing her legs wide.

'Careful, lover,' Carol slid down the bed, 'not too fast, take it easy or you'll cum too soon.'

'You're the one who'll cum too soon,' Tyrell flashed his teeth, 'you're as desperate as I am for this. Just look at yourself, your cunt is dripping. I bet the receptionist smelt you across the lobby.'

Carol scratched her nails down his chest, digging deep into his tight nipples on the way. He groaned at the sudden pain.

His cock was pushing at her pussy down, pressing her labia open, forcing her to open wide.

'Remind how big you are again,' she moaned. 'In centimetres, it sounds so much bigger than in inches.'

Tyrell obliged her.
 
James propped himself up on his bed, opened his laptop and typed in the web address he had found on the card in his mother's bedroom.

When he reached the site, it was as elegant as the card – same colours and typeface. And discreet.

At first he thought it was a dating site with talk of unmet needs and matching people with others to fulfil their mutual requirements for a satisfying relationship. But other sections read more like an escort site, with provisions for bookings and payments.

He eventually moved on to look at the women on the site – they were all women. He searched for Carol and found five. There were photos of all of them with very brief biographies. All had their faces obscured. He did not need to look at more than the third. He recognised the underwear that he had found in the laundry basket. This woman was his mother.

More details, he was told, were available only to those registered on the site. A scale of membership fees was attached. He decided not to go further.

So that was it. His mother was some sort of specialist escort. That was how she managed to maintain this house and her lifestyle.

And that was where she was now. with some man, satisfying their mutual requirements. He pushed thoughts of what those requirements might be out of his mind. He had something more important to decide. Should he confront his mother? How would it affect his legal career if it came out that she was some kind of high class prostitute?

He still had not come to a decision when he finally fell asleep, long before his mother returned.
 
Carol lay on the bed, her hands above her head protecting her as each thrust from Tyrell drove her closer to the wall. Her legs were stretched wide and over his shoulders, his balls crashed into her ass at the end of each stroke.

'Damn you, Carol, let me in deeper you bitch.'

'You're in as deep as you can go, darling.'

'I need to be in deeper. Why are you stopping me from cumming?'

'I'm not stopping you, darling, let yourself go, I don't care how much you hurt me.'

That was true. Even in his state of frustration and heightened arousal, Tyrell knew that she didn't care. In fact, there were times when he forgot that he was paying her, imagining they were lovers and she was getting as much enjoyment from this as he was. She appeared to cum, and once he was sure she actually did. But he realised in his calmer moments that this was just an act on her part, and that she played it with other men, with other fetishes or problems. She was good, yes, Carol was really good. Well worth the money he paid her, which was more than double what he had paid to others from the site.

'Come on, don't slow down, Tyrell, keep going, keep working me, I'm getting closer darling, let me know when you're going to blow so we can cum together.'

Tyrell worked harder, harder and faster until at last, for the first time in three weeks he felt himself on the verge of cumming.

'Yes, yes, yes, now, Carol, now, I can't last any longer.'

The jet of sperm shot inside her like a high pressure hose, shot after shot, Tyrell's hips jerking until he finally subsided on top of her.

Carol sighed. She had been so close, but hadn't been ready. Sometimes she wondered if it was worth going through this, but then she would have a mind blowing, body racking orgasm. And if any of the men she met was able to give her that, it was this one.

She eased herself out from under his weight.

'Sorry, Tyrell,' she sighed, 'I wasn't ready.'

The disappointment was obvious on his face. Satisfying a woman meant as much to him as satisfying himself.

Carol rolled onto her stomach. He knew what she wanted and was happy to provide it, even if it meant paying an addition to her bill.

'Just give me time to get back up to steam.'

Carol smiled.

'My ass is warm and waiting, darling.'
 
James sat bolt upright in bed. He was hot, breathless, disorientated. Something had happened, but his mind could not focus on what. It was still dark. A glance at the clock told him it was 3 am. What had woken him? Why was he so unsettled?

He moved the sheet and felt something. He ran his hand down his belly and found what had happened. His belly was awash with spunk. He had cum, in his sleep. He groaned. Surely not. Wet dreams were for kids. He'd not had one since, well when, he couldn't exactly, when he was 16 perhaps. He reached out and switched on the light. When his eyes adjusted, he saw the huge spreading stain on the sheet. He must not let his mother see that. He pulled a corner of the sheet and wiped his belly dry, pushed it away and sank back.

He must have been dreaming about something, or someone, that had made this happen. But what, who?

As his breathing settled, parts of the dream began to come back. Snippets at first, fragmentary images, and then finally the parts fitted together.

'NO' The word was out before he could stop it.

He remembered his dream now.

It had been his mother. He had been on top of her, she was lying back, on this bed, smiling at him as he worked her hard, pumping deep inside her. His dick throbbing, straining, and finally blowing his full load. And when he pulled out, she had licked his dick dry. When she lifted her head, his cum was dribbling from her mouth.

'NO, NO, NO' he screamed again.
 
It was the early hours of the morning when Carol finally left the hotel. She had planned to call an Uber, but walked out of the hotel to find a taxi who had just dropped off a fare from the airport. She sank back in her seat to reflect on her evening. Tyrell was her favourite client. He ticked most of her boxes and had given her three orgasms in the course of the evening. Not that she let him know that; it was not a good idea to let a client know you depended on him. She had done well financially too. This had been a private arrangement that bypassed the agency and the cut that they would take. With the addition for the anal, which Carol had manipulated Tyrell into enjoying, plus a generous tip, she had walked away with not far short of £1000 for a few hours work.

Very satisfactory.

As she reached the top of the stairs, she heard moans and groans coming from her son's room. Did he have a visitor, or was he wanking to porn? She didn't know, but did not want to let him know she had heard, so she tiptoed to her room.

Her first priority was to clean herself up. She hiked her skirt up to the hips and pulled down her sodden pants. Reaching for some tissues she cleaned her crotch and then her crack, drying them of Tyrell's spunk and her juices. She'd just tossed the tissues into a bin and was planning on undressing, when she heard her son screaming 'No, No. No.' Fearing that he might be in trouble, she pulled her dress down and rushed to his room, noticing that the light was now on.

She tapped on the door. 'James,' she called, 'it's me. Are you OK? Is there a problem?'

Even with her ear to the door, she could only hear incoherent noises.

She knocked again, but with no reply.

Fearing the worse, she called out again. 'James, are you OK? I'm going to come in.'

She turned the knob and began to ease the door gently open.
 
'No, it's OK, mum, really.'

James tried frantically to stop his mother entering the room, but it was too late, the door was continuing to open.

What could he do? His bed was soaked in cum and he was naked with an erection that was slowly receding.

The bed. he had to conceal what had happened. He swiftly tossed the sheet into a heap and cast around for something to wear. His bath robe was where he had left it over the back of his chair. He was still tying the cord when his mother walked in.

He stared briefly and then forced his eyes back to hers. Her dress clung to every curve and he was sure he could see suspenders outlined under the material. He must not look down, must not let her know that he had noticed.

'Sorry, mum, I didn't, I don't, I mean it was just a dream, a bad dream. I'm fine, really I am.'

His mother looked at the bed and then at her son's face.

'You need a drink, I'll go and make you one, it'll help you settle.'

Before he could say anything more, she had turned and was on her way.

James stared in amazement. The way her ass moved, he'd swear she wasn't wearing panties.

He was sure of one thing now, she was working as a prostitute or escort or whatever euphemism she used to cloak the way she funded this house and her life. Why else would she be dressed like that in the middle of the night. She must have just come in, unless, no surely not, unless she had customers here. Maybe one was with her when he had disturbed them with his cries.

He would have to talk to her about this, but now was not the moment.
 
Carol rushed out of the room, suddenly aware of how she was dressed. Hopefully James had been too stressed to notice or would have thought she was on a date. Either way, she did not want him to see her like this again. She diverted from her visit to the kitchen to strip off her dress and mop up more cum that was still draining out of her. Tyrell always carried a huge load. No time to strip, so she donned her dressing gown and made her way downstairs to make her son a warm milky drink.

Shit, this milk reminded her of Tyrell. Stay calm, Carol, stay calm.

As she waited for the milk to warm in the microwave, she began wondering what had really happened to her son. He said it had been a bad dream. But had it. His bed was in an awful tangle and he seemed very keep to keep that robe wrapped tightly around him. he'd have been naked under it, she was sure of that. She had not stared – how could she do that to her own son? – but to an experienced eye, and hers were very experienced, that had looked like a bulge under his robe.

Why hadn't he just jumped back into the bed if he wanted to cover his modesty? That was the obvious thing to do, but he hadn't. Why would that be?

She knocked again at his door and opened it when he called out. A quick glance showed that he had changed his sheet. And she could not miss the fact that he was now wearing a pair of boxers that were looser than she would have liked. But then again this was her son, not a client, not even James's father. She handed him his drink.

'Thanks, mum. Aren't you having one with me?'

'No,' now why hadn't she thought of that? It almost sounded like an invitation and it would be good to have a chat and make sure he was ready to settle down for the night again.

'We can share this,' he offered, 'we can sit on the bed and chat while we sip it.'

He handed her the cup and climbed onto the bed, leaning back against the pillows. She sat at the bottom, facing him, drawing her legs under her. Her gown fell open, but she retrieved it with her spare hand before he was treated too intimate a display of her thighs. But doing so served to dislodge the top which fell open to reveal the swell of her breasts. She couldn't have pulled this off better if she had been putting on a show for a client.

She decided to laugh it off. 'Sorry,' she tried to sound as if she meant it, 'but I guess you've seen plenty of sights like this before.' She made no attempt to adjust the top and the waist was now slipping aside to reveal stocking tops and white fleshy thighs. She felt more of Tyrell's cum sliding out and had to let her gown absorb it. She could hardly ask her son for a tissue.

With the drink finished, it was time to leave. How could she manage that decorously. Speed, she decided was the answer. The gown was too far off her now to cover herself properly until she stood up. She moved fast, almost jumping up and grabbing hold of the gown and pulling it around her. She swept from the room without daring to catch her son's eyes. How much had he seen?
 
James breathed a sigh of relief when his mother left his room. He had struggled to keep his eyes off her body although he couldn't avoid seeing the swell of her breasts or the stockings and thigh. If it had been anyone but his mother, he would have sworn that she had been doing it deliberately as a come on. But this was his mother and mothers did not give their sons the come on. But what he now knew about her nocturnal activities made him wonder.

He needed to think this through, but now was not the time. His mind was still filled with the last images as she jumped off the bed. He couldn't have imagined it. he was sure her gown fell open and he had a full view of her stockings, thighs, and crotch, a bald naked crotch, and unless he was very much mistaken a wet one too.

And speaking of wet, his dick was expanding despite him cumming not so long ago. It had been bad enough dreaming about fucking his mother, but the images were now real ones in his mind. That hot milky drink was not going to get him to sleep now.

To his surprise, though, he fell asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow and woke only just in time to rush to work and grab a coffee on the way, arriving breathless just in time for his first appointment.

It wasn't until lunchtime that he had time to think and plan. He had to speak to his mother, but he needed to be sure. How could he explain how he knew what she was doing without admitting he had searched her room?

That night he decided to stay awake and follow her, but she was still in her room and listening to music at midnight, so he went to sleep. The next night he spotted her leaving as he was arriving home. He tried to follow but lost her when she hailed a taxi. The third night he got a taxi first and then told the driver to follow the one with his mother. The driver gave him a funny look but obeyed and dropped him at the hotel. But he dared not go in. What could he say, who could he ask for? He hung around but then went home to wait for her return.
 
Will didn't match the normal profile for one of Carol's clients. But being different made him more interesting.

As James was making his way back home, Carol was removing her long coat in the hotel room to reveal a short red dress and black thigh boots. She ignored Will as she walked over to the mini-bar and bent low to help herself to a drink, revealing the bottom of her ass.

'You bitch,' Will cursed from the bed, 'you're just a slut, that's what you are, just a common street walker. How could I have thought you were something special.'

Carol ignored him and sat down in a low chair, crossing her legs slowly to reveal a bare crotch.

'My God, how could I have been so stupid. What will my wife say when I tell her what I've done. Because I've got to tell her, you know that don't you.'

'If you want to prove that you did this,' Carol finally spoke, 'you had better film it for her.'

That would be extra on the bill of course. But a professional like Carol didn't mention anything as vulgar as money. That would spoil the fantasy. The camera, of course, was already set up and had filmed her from her arrival.

'So, what do you want?' Carol rose and stood, her legs astride, looking down on Will. 'Do you want a blow job or a whipping or what? Make up your mind, I don't have all night.'

'Getting off to another client,' I suppose. Will always managed to sound like he was disgusted with what was going to happen and perhaps he was. Carol didn't care. 'How many have you been with tonight.'

Carol shrugged vaguely.

'Your cunt is wet isn't it? Full of some dirty guy's spunk.

Carol shrugged again.

'You're getting me aroused deliberately. You know I don't want to do this, not really. You've tricked me and got me here under false pretences.'

He was aroused, that was true, and it was obvious since he was stark naked.

'If you want to fuck, get on with it. If you're just a time waster, get your clothes on and run back to your mousey little wife.'

'Don't insult my wife,' Will rose from the bed, 'she doesn't deserve a husband who picks up tarts on the street.'

'You wife is no more a saint than you are,' Carol retorted, 'right now she is getting shagged by your neighbour. You know the one, the big guy, with muscles and tattoos. She's got her legs open and she's screaming her head off as he rams into her pussy.'

Will flew towards Carol, grabbed her and spun her round, forcing her down onto the bed, her dress riding up to expose her bare ass.

He took hold of a fist full of her hair, wrenched her head back, and took her from behind.

Carol's hair was straining at the roots as he tugged hard, harder with each hard thrust, shouting and cursing.

'Slut, slut, slut. I'll teach you to be disrespectful.' His hand slapped her buttock, leaving it stinging.

'Oooowwww,' Carol yowled.

He thrust harder.

'No,' Carol pleaded, 'not so hard, please, you're hurting me.'

'Do you think I give a fuck for you and how you feel.' Will's hand struck her other buttock with a stinging smack, eliciting another ear piercing howl from Carol. She must remember not to make too much noise. On her last visit to Will, the guests in the rooms on both sides had called reception to complain.

Suddenly Will stopped, juddering and grumbling.

'I've cum, you made me do that, you stupid cunt, I normally last hours and you've made me cum. That's one of your tricks, isn't it.' He pulled back, his cock dripping. Carol hoped he had not let any fall on her new boots.

'Get out,' he shouted, 'get out.'

Carol pulled down her skirt and picked up her coat. On the way to the door, she collected the thick envelope lying on a table.

'Everything OK?' the receptionist asked, her face looking concerned.

'Sure,' Carol smiled, 'he's sweet as pie.'

The receptionist did not look convinced. At least she had not had to deal with complaints from guests this time.
 
James was waiting in the hallway when his mother led herself into her house.

He had been waiting, rehearsing what he wanted to say, determined to see it through, tonight.

'Mum,' he began before the door had closed. 'Mum, I know where you've been and what you've been doing. I know about the website and your clients. I know how you have supported yourself since dad left.'

Carol blanched at his words, but did not respond. Instead she tried to push him aside to go to her room.

James stopped her, grabbing her coat and pulling it open. He stared open-mouthed at her tight dress, expanse of naked thigh and the shiny boots.

Damn not again. She turned him on last night and now she was doing it again. He could feel his dick twitching already. But he must not let this divert him. He had not anticipated this and so had not rehearsed what he wanted to say.

'Just look at you. You disgust me, dressed like a cheap whore from the back streets. I suppose you've got your payment tucked into your pants, if you've bothered wearing any. Where did you go, down an alley, in a car, back to his flat?'

Carol glared at him and pulled her coat out of his hands, not bothering to cover herself.

'Go and get changed, then come back here and explain yourself. This gets settled tonight.'

He stood and waited. That had not gone entirely to plan. How would she react?
 
It wasn't long before Carol walked into the sitting room, wearing a simple cotton dress and low heels. She had not bothered to remove her make up or even to fresh up.

Her son turned towards her and was met with a stinging slap across his cheek, followed by another to the other side.

'You will never, ever, speak to me like that again.' His mother's voice was controlled but with any undercurrent of anger. 'I am your mother, I brought you up on my own after your father left, and I am entitled to some respect.'

She turned away and poured herself a stiff gin and tonic before sitting demurely in a chair and crossing her legs.

'I am going to tell you about myself in the hope that you will understand. You have already judged me,' she held up her hand to stop James from interrupting her, 'but maybe you will feel differently when you know why I behave as I do.'

She took a long sip and James sank onto the sofa, wondering what she could possibly say.

'From a practical point of view, I needed money. Your father left us with a small allowance that he didn't keep up and eventually abandoned. I was too proud to chase him for money, so I had to provide for us, for you, for me, and to run our home.'

Another long sip. Her glass would soon be empty at this rate.

'Now we need to go back to when I was a teenager.' She took a deep breath. 'I wasn't a virgin when I met your father, neither of us was. But I was not, let's say, experienced and probably rather innocent. I'd had sex with boys, but it did nothing for me. I blamed them. They seemed to fumble around a lot with little effect as far as I was concerned. They must have sensed how I felt, because they usually didn't come back for more.'

Another sip, more thoughtful this time.

'And then I met your father. Sex was different with him, right from the off. I put it down to having met the man of my life, the one I would stay with for ever. Like I said, I was rather innocent. I made some friends, female friends, through your father. He had lots of business contacts, and the wives were often left to their own devices. I listened to them exchanging stories about the men, comparing them. But paid no attention and didn't join in.'

She paused, brought her glass to her lips, but then put it down again.

'One day, I was alone Sandra. She was the wife of one of his colleagues and we got chatting and we got drinking and we got giggly. Then she said, "You never tell us about your guy? Come on, do tell, has he only got a little willy." I was embarrassed to be asked, but I had had more to drink than I should have, so I just blurted out. "He's about eight inches I guess." She sat opened mouthed. I had no idea that that was big. That was why those other boys did nothing for me. This was before the days of the internet, so I had not realised it was his size that made the difference. "Well," she said eventually, "no wonder you keep quiet about that." I just grinned not understanding what she meant. Eventually, though, it dawned on me that he was much bigger than the other guys. And that was when the trouble started."

She fell silent, for so long James wondered if he should prompt her to go on, but held back.

'The other women all began pumping me for details, increasingly personal details, like how big and had I measured it and how it felt and did we do anal, on and on. Everyone except Sandra. She was always quiet during our girly confidences now. It wasn't long before I found out why. She had gone after your father, they were having an affair and he decided he preferred her to me. Which was when he walked out, without any warning. We had sex before he left, for the last time, although I didn't know it was to be the last time.'

James looked closely at his mother, wondering if she were crying, but could see no tears.

'You see the problem. I needed a large man in order to be satisfied, sexually. But there aren't many of them, despite all their male bragging. Most guys do nothing for me. There was only one way to find guys that met my needs. And you know where that is. That was how I got my sexual satisfaction and I was able to make money as well.'

She downed the rest of her drink and stared defiantly at James.

'So there it is. It's not about money, well not just about money. It's about sex. Raw sex. Uncomplicated sex. No need to worry about the guy going off with someone else. No need to worry about being abandoned. No need to worry that the guy fucking me knows he will never see me again. It's about a need I didn't know I had until I met your father. I will not, and cannot, give that up.'

She put the glass aside and sat patiently as she had when James was a child and she was waiting for him to tell her what he had to say.

James did not speak. Instead he rose and walked across to his mother, standing over her.
 
James walked over to his mother, stood in front of her, and unfastened his trousers. He pushed them down to reveal a soft thick cock hanging between his legs. His mother's eyes fell briefly and then returned to her son's face.

'Nine inches, mum, longer than dad's. Six inches round. Most women can't take it. The ones that can say it is painful for them. I've never cum inside a woman. They even find it difficult to wank me, which is the only way I can get off.'

If only she weren't his mother. Damn it.

'I didn't realise at first, not until the kids at school noticed and then I became an object of curiosity. Guys playing with me like I was some sort of toy. A couple of them made my life hell. Jealous probably or because I made them feel inadequate. I don't know why.'

He began to pull his trousers back up, but his mother placed her hand on his to stop him.

'I didn't know who to talk to about it. Dad wasn't around and I didn't, couldn't come to you about it. I mean, it's not the sort of thing boys talk about to their mothers, is it?'
 
Carol stared at James' cock swaying in her face. Her chest tightened and her breath came faster. As it did so, she gripped her son's hand harder.

A deep sigh and she moistened her lips before nibbling thoughtfully on the lower one. Another sigh, her warm breath flowing over his shaft.

'That's big.' She could have been talking to herself, or to James, it was difficult to tell.

'Really big.' Another sigh as she brought her face closer.

'Bigger than your father's.'

'Phwoar.'

Finally she looked up at her son.

'I'm sorry for what you had to suffer. If only you had told me. If only I had known I could have warned you how other kids would react.'

She looked down again and continued talking as if to herself.

'Your father got beaten up once, in the shower at the gym, by some guy who was jealous of what he was packing.'

She seemed lost in thought for a while before releasing her son's hand and reaching out to touch his cock.
 
In a matter of days, James's view of his mother had changed completely. He had gone from seeing her as a mother who nurtured and protected him to one was selling her body rather than get a proper job to pay for their home. Now, in a matter of minutes, his view of her had changed again and again. She had confided in him thoughts that she probably had never shared with anyone. And now she was revealing her nature by the way she looked at his body, spoke about it, and even breathed on his cock. Now she was actually holding his cock.

It was wonderful to have this experience of someone who did not look at him as a freak or shy away in horror at the thought of what was hanging between his legs. but he had to remember that this was an act, one she had honed with her clients for years now. He was feeling the way those men who paid her felt.

But what was she planning to do. He knew what he should do – he should push her hand aside and step away, even leave. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. she was his mother after all, she was not going to treat him like a client. For a moment images burst into his mind, images of his mother lying back, her legs stretched wide to receive a client.

His cock stiffened slightly and he forced the images out of his mind. He had to keep thinking of this woman as his mother, the woman who had played with him as a child. Then he would be OK. Surely.
 
Carol nurses his cock, holding it delicately. Her other hand cradles his balls, feeling their weight. knowing how they feel, heavy, aching. Blue balls that's what one of her clients calls them, although they never look blue to her.

She knows what she wants to say, but dare she? How will he react? Does she need to prepare him more?

He hasn't run away, which is a good sign. And he's stopped abusing her, which is another.

'I can help you,' she says at last, 'if you'll let me.'
 
What does she mean? I know what she is saying, but I must have misunderstood her. She's my mother for fuck's sake. She can't be offering. Well, offering what exactly?

Her fingers on my cock are so warm and barely moving, her hand is holding my balls like a feather.

There is only one thing that is going to help me. After all these years of never been fully satisfied with a woman. Of not knowing what it is like.

Not knowing quite what she is offering, I just nod, safe in knowing that I wouldn't have embarrassed either of us if I have misunderstood.
 
A nod is as good as a wink, or so they say.

Carol open her lips and slowly drew her son's hammer head into her mouth, circling it with her tongue as her hand gently played with his balls.

She held the head between her teeth biting harder and harder as she felt him stiffen.

She'd needed to take this slowly. He was the biggest guy she'd taken, if his measurement were accurate, and she so hoped they were.

As his cock lengthened, she pushed forward, taking more and more of his shaft into her mouth.

She could feel her crotch wetting up and it wasn't just Will's cum running out.

Would she let James into her pussy, tonight, with the leftovers of her last client still swilling around? That was for the future.

Right now, James cock was nudging the back of her throat and he was beginning to push. She eased back, hoping he would understand and leave her in control.

She lifted her eyes to catch his expression, but his head was back and his mouth slightly open. She could not see his eyes.

He seemed to be muttering to himself but she could not catch any words.
 
This was new to him. Girls had licked his cock for him, one had bitten those plump cock lips so hard he thought he was going to bleed. But no one had done more than take his head into her mouth.

His mind was fighting what was happening. This was his mother, his mother who was just a whore. No point denying it. Whatever her reasons, she earned a living by fucking guys with big dicks. Like him. She was treating him like any other client. If she hoped this would change his attitude about her work, she was mistaken.

But his body was fighting his mind. The sensations of her saliva and tongue were sending sparks along his shaft and into his balls. He was getting harder and longer. No way could he stop it, no way did he want to. Quite the opposite. For once in his life, he wanted to let himself go.

His hips took control and he began to push, eager to feel the tightness of her throat around his cock.

But each time he tried, she pulled back. What was the problem? Was he too big for her? He couldn't cope if she were. She was surely the one woman of all women who could take him. In the end, he stopped fighting her and let her take control.

She knew best, after all, she was pro.

He looked down at her as she eased his cock deeper and deeper, her throat opening to allow him in.

Finally her lips met his balls. DAMN She had taken him whole.

As he stared down in amazement, she raised her eyes to meet his and held his gaze as she began to contract her throat.
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Back
Top Bottom