RestaurantMeetsNET Pt. 04: Amore's
The Great Seduction : Freddie's Story
Baxter v Baxter
I don't know what was happening with the MeetsNet, but the arranged Date that had been set-up for me had been pulled, and an 'Emergency Date' had been arranged.
I know I hadn't been with them long, but the three actual dates that I had a part in arranging had worked out well. My last Date, so she told me, was well satisfied; and left as sore as she was prepared to accept, so I don't know if it was something I DID -- or if it was something I DIDN'T -- do.
Anyway, the hotel, Amore's, that was now booked for us seemed reasonable; the restaurant had won Michelin stars; the hotel site was picturesque, so it shouldn't be a total loss.
I have to admit that apart from there being an interconnecting door to the next-door room, the room itself was nice. I just hoped that the door was well sound-proofed.
There was plenty of hanging space, and hangers; plenty of drawers, a 'desk'
and
a table; and a couple of easy chairs.
There was actually ground coffee and a cafetière, so REAL coffee; as well as instant -- if or when that was preferred. And a fridge with fresh milk.
So -- I celebrated, with a long soak in the bath, with my book and real coffee. (That is: - I soaked in hot water in the bath, drank hot real coffee from a mug, and read my book.)
I went down to dinner, to arrive five minutes early. The table had been booked in my name.
I was seated and presented with two menus, to which I devoted only part of my attention. The rest was mostly on the entrance to the restaurant, to get the first look at my 'Date'.
A 'while' later, my attention had 'drifted', so suddenly I was disturbed by my mother's voice, demanding to know what I was doing there.
I could only gape up at her as she again demanded why I was there, and why I had usurped her table.
I had risen to defend myself when both our phones chirped with the MeetsNet's 'Date Encountered' tone.
Both Mum and I froze, looked at each other, then grabbed our phones to examine them.
"What was that, on your phone?" she demanded.
I held mine so the screen faced her.
She gulped, took in a deep breath, and showed me the screen of her phone.
They both showed the same Date-Reference.
Implications and Connivances
Mum sat down and contemplated her phone; and looked as if she were trying to wish a different 'story' on it. That
is
-- 'trying to wish' -- and but
actually
wishing.
I stared at mine, thought about various things, and started growing an erection. I would need to be very circumspect, so I didn't drive Mum off.
Do you remember my discussion with Marion, about my Mum dressing more trendily?
Well, tonight she was right on the button! As far as I was concerned, anyway! Her dress was body-con, but not so conforming that it squished extra stuff out where it shouldn't be (not that it seemed like she had enough extra TO be squished out). The dress was sleeveless, satiny, mainly white with a tossed multi-colour effect that led up from the bottom hem, at the side of her right thigh, up and across her front, to 'disappear into the top of her left arm-hole'; it had a deep, narrow V neckline, made less 'obvious' because of the colour pattern and placings; and a split up to the middle of her left thigh, allowing a glimpse of stocking-top. Her shoes were something I had never seen her wear, (and hence presumed that she never would). They were strappy stilettoes, four-ish inches high, and a blue colour that matched the blue in the 'tossed colour' pattern of her dress. Her hair was brushed into a soft style, which again I had never seen her use, which was smooth, layered and almost straight, and falling almost to her shoulder blades. It glowed a rich, chestnut red-brown. She looked far too Hot for me to even think how natural such a rich colour could be -- I was too fixated about getting my hands full of it.
As she settled down, I got hit by this -- wave -- of perfume, that partially paralysed me. I have always been a sucker for Rive Gauche; as, for some reason, it is about the only perfume that I am able to identify, and hence remember the name.
It was then that my phone chirped for a received message. A quick glance at the source -- it was from Marion: -
"
Freddie,
- your Mum has been an active member for a while.
- her Date-Contacts Profile matches you very nicely, including age, body form and hair colour.
- her Dates' feedbacks are that she is usually a 'hot' dresser.
She's an early birthday present to you, from me!
Enjoy!
ï‚–"
* * * * *
As I gazed at this, contemplating the fact that Marion had set me up with Mum, and hence had set Mum up with me, I became aware of Mum's increasingly loud and insistent "Freddie!"
So, my seduction started -- at a very low key.
Fine Dining
The old film 'Tom Jones' (from the book written by Henry Fielding) seemed to have got it right, as in -- food, in an erotic atmosphere, increases the libido.
And the food proved to be good, and was aided by the dishes and styles that 'satisfied' us.
The food helped Mum to relax.
I managed to reign-in the wilder parts of my 'wit' -- the parts that Marion, and some others -- had grown to appreciate. Of course, I was still in my 'Seduction Initiation Campaign' -- so as to not antagonise Mum, that is.
It gradually became obvious, perhaps aided by the wine, that Mum was 'warming to my attention'.
The first time she stroked my thigh after some throw-away comment that I had made, showed that my campaign was succeeding.
Even while she wasn't even tiddly!
Then, one taste of her Poires Belle Hélène, with an especially dark smooth chocolate, and she kissed me, and licked away the smudge of chocolate from my lips -- from
my
Poires Belle Hélène.
Then, just to confirm to her that I could be 'a Gentleman', even under stress, I kissed her back.
Gently.
Then,
once 'the ice was broken' -- I kissed her ardently!
She whimpered and sucked my tongue!
And she
still
wasn't pissed... in neither meaning!
Rape![?]
After getting her stretched out -- nude; though still with reservations; I patiently worked her nipples into diamond chips with my lips and tongue as I gently stroked her pubic mound, to a sound track of her whines, pants and groans; and breathing more heavily the harder her nipples became, and still against her whimpered background commentaries of: -
"Please stop, Freddie! I'm your mother, we shouldn't be doing this sort of thing! Please, Freddie! Oh-my-darling, suck just a little harder! We can leave here now," panting heavily, "and not need to say -- Oh My God[!]" (squeak) "another word. Please Freddie we should be going! We are already making the bed wet!
"No Freddie -- not there -- please. Freddie! I'm your mother you mustn't do this to me it's rape, Freddie -- oh -- there[!]... please baby, right there! Oh! Lick just a little bit more slowly, my darling, oh... please..." (squeak).
So, 'gentleman' that I am, I gave her an option. After carefully sliding my right middle finger inside her, I began lightly stroking her G-spot as I began lightly licking around her nether lips.
"Well, Mum, what would you prefer, the slow gentle climb as I caress you like this?" and continued my gentle strokes for a further few seconds; then I stilled my tongue, and looked into her glazed, staring eyes;
"Or the faster climb as I lick you here?"
And I swiped my tongue firmly across her clit -- twice.
Her response was immediate! She screamed as she climaxed strongly as she locked-up rigid.
After her breathing returned to normal, and she started to relax, I commenced to the next step of my campaign.
I moved to mount her, which re-animated her.
"No, no, no, Freddie! We can't be doing that! Don't stick that in me Freddie! It's rape! What will your father think?"
Squeaky whispers, "Take it out Freddie, it hurts! You're so deep, you're behind my lungs."
Then she squeezed her arms and legs around me, kissed me
so
hard; and gradually became stiff, and screamed out, "Freddie!", then she became so rigid-and-twisted around me as her orgasm picked her up in its huge paws; and, as we would effortlessly twist and shred a scrap of paper in our hands, and then scatter the shreds as having no worth -- that is what her orgasm did to her; but with the added ignominy of having her bladder and Skene's glands squeezed empty at the same time.
Just before the Little-Death took her, her sighed 'dying' words were, "I love you Freddie."
It had taken less than twenty minutes to get her passed out; once I had her stretched out naked on the bed.
Ten of those seconds occurred from penetration to unconsciousness.