A Whore for His Mother

Anna-Lisa walked down the corridor, high heels echoing off the walls. Stressed, she barely even stopped as a terrified office worker approached her in the common area. Afternoon light streamed down on her from a window high above. The grunt blinked and held something out to her. Some papers.

"Thanks," she mumbled, and looked him over. He was a handsome man, strawberry blonde and thin, but half her age. Besides, she would never get involved with someone at her job. That was a recipe for disaster. And she was too busy. The planning alone!

She got a cup of coffee and drank it while it was still piping hot, on the way to her office.

"Could you get someone to buy a present for me?" she asked her secretary.

The beautiful, blonde thing looked up at her, confused. "For...?"

"What do you mean?" Anna-Lisa asked. "For my son of course."

"Oh!" The secretary pouted with her well-formed lips. "Didn't know you had a son. How old is he?"

Anna-Lisa hated herself, but she had to think about it. "19!" she finally said. "He's 19, so nothing fancy. Just a you're a man type of gift. You figure it out. You're near his age."

"I'm 31 actually."

"Really?" Anna-Lisa looked her up and down. It would have been inappropriate had she been a lesbian. Now it was jealousy, plain and simple. "Impressive."

"Oh, but Mrs. Johnson! You don't have to compare yourself to anyone!"

"Ask my husband if he feels the same..."

"Excuse me?"

"Never mind, just find something, okay? Nothing too fancy." As she opened the office door, she glanced at her watch. "Jesus fucking crispers! Late again. Get it done, will you?"

"Yes, Mrs. Johnson! I'll--"

The door cut her off. "Mrs. Johnson..." Anna-Lisa muttered. "Sounds like my mom. And she's dead."

Sitting down for a computer meeting she thought about age, her son, her husband, that cheating bastard. She couldn't prove it, of course. He was too sneaky for that. But she knew. He couldn't care less about her. The same could be said about her son, and she rubbed her forehead just thinking about it. No wonder she'd forgotten his age. They barely spoke to one another, just a quick bye each morning. He was never at home when she got back, or she had to work extra hours. The few times she had a couple of days each year he wouldn't even do the effort of cancelling his plans. Most of the time she was at home by herself, sipping wine in front of the television. Vacation? She hated the word.

"Yes, exactly!" she said with authority when she got the word. The rest of the importants nodded their heads.

He'd started an education, but maybe he'd flunked out. She could sort of remember her lying, cheating husband mentioning something about it. Wouldn't surprise her. Like father like son.

When the meeting was over, she stretched her limbs in front of the impressive view. High-rise buildings rose before her, far above the late autumn streets. She could see her own reflection in the window, brown hair tumbling down, red lips, her top-of-the-line office clothes. Had her stupid secretary really told her a compliment? If so, she didn't have time for it. Already the full moon rose between the buildings in front of her.

"Jesus fucking crispers..." she muttered. Was it that late? She wasn't even halfway done. Not if she wanted to secure her standing with the company for another year. It was now or never.

Walking back to the common area for another cup of coffee she noticed the many empty seats. She almost wished that she was back here, sitting in a cubicle, gossiping about that bitch in the corner office. But she was the bitch in the corner office now. She could hear someone hurrying to the elevator, probably deadly afraid of being held up at the last moment. Dark shadows hung over everything. Even the potted plants looked tired.

She stopped when she came to the common area. There, standing at a table, was her secretary. She was all dolled up. She really was beautiful, and for a moment Anna-Lisa thought about her sexual orientation. It would be most practical if she could order her secretary around like one of the men upstairs. She could get her pussy worshipped right now, with a cup of coffee right there, next to her computer. Get some work done.

But her secretary obviously had other plans. She had just stayed to wrap the present, finishing with a big bow on top.

"Hello, Mrs. Johnson!" she said. "I just came back. But here it is. I think he's gonna like it!"

"What is it?" Anna-Lisa asked, but held up her hand before she could get an answer. "Never mind. Thanks. What do I owe you?"

"Oh, nothing, Mrs. Johnson! I couldn't!"

Anna-Lisa had her phone ready. "You sure?"

"Sure!" The secretary winked. "Just remember me for Christmas."

Anna-Lisa blushed. "Yeah... Why not?"

Her secretary put the wrapped present back inside its paper bag. She gave it to her.

"So, where are you going?" Anna-Lisa asked.

"Oh, nowhere. Just a party really."

"I thought you were going on a date or something. You look really nice."

"Mrs. Johnson! You look nice! I'm a mess!"

They both laughed at that. Such an obvious lie! But her secretary must have suspected something. She began to look worried.

"Is it okay?" she asked.

"What?"

"I can stay for another hour if you need me?"

"No, no! I can manage. Just computer stuff."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Go and be young."

Anna-Lisa held the paper bag in her hand, weighed it. Felt expensive. Good.

Her secretary had started to walk to the elevators, but stopped halfway to the corridor. When she returned, she was blushing herself. She reached into her enormous handbag. When she found it, she quickly put a business card inside the paper bag.

"Here, Mrs. Johnson. Not that you need it, but I do... sometimes. You know, when I'm lonely."

"You couldn't possibly be?" Anna-Lisa asked.

"You're nice, Mrs. Johnson, but it's a hard life out there. Lots of scabby types. I have protection, but..."

Curious, Anna-Lisa raised her eyebrows.

"Oh, it's nothing, Mrs. Johnson, just a little..." Reaching into her handbag, her secretary came up with a small handgun. It looked cute in her manicured hand.

"I see," Anna-Lisa whispered, impressed.

Her secretary put the gun away, nodded at the bag. "That's for when I don't want to take any chances, Mrs. Johnson. They're really nice. Or whatever you want."

"Thanks, I'm sure to check it out."

They said good-bye, and Anna-Lisa returned to her office with the coffee. It was good and bitter.

Fiddling with the computer, she couldn't just ignore the business card, and taking it out she mumbled, "Fine Dining -- For discerning ladies."

Looking up, she asked herself, "Why ladies? I don't-- Oh!"

She dropped the card on the table, from where it looked up at her with naughty eyes. She blushed even harder. It was an escort service! Something special too, otherwise she couldn't imagine that a girl like her secretary would be interested. With their own volition, her red fingernails walked across the desktop. But soon she discovered what they were doing. They were going after her phone, and before she even suspected why she saw her schedule for tonight in front of her.

"Will you look at that?" she whispered. "I'm ahead for once. Maybe I should get me something to eat, I'm a bit..."

Flushing, she felt her pussy starting to drip. That was a long time ago. Not even the strawberry blonde had managed to do that. He was just imagination. This was something else.

Making a simple phone call she got a time and place. "Bon appetite," the sultry voice on the other end said.

Standing up, picking up her coat and gloves, she walked as quickly as she could to the elevator. Out on the street, she raised her hand, and a taxi turned her way. Mumbling the address, she pressed her head to the back of the seat.

She couldn't move, but something about the practicality made her more comfortable. She had a designated time and place, an hour and forty-five minutes to her disposal. Planning for what she would do when she got back to her office she relaxed. She gave the driver a tip as she got out on the sidewalk.

Closing her coat around her, she looked in both directions. It was still a very pleasing area, nothing suspicious at all. Fancy cars turned the corners, nice-looking people moved about. Very fashionable, she decided after a while. She felt old, and so she went into the large building, no different from the others on this street.

Sitting by a reception desk was a curvy redhead with glasses. She looked up from a book as Anna-Lisa came in. There was only an elevator leading away from the lobby.

"Hello, I have an--"

"The appointment at 21:30," the redhead continued. It was the sultry telephone voice.

Her ways made Anna-Lisa insecure. "Should I do anything, or just..."

"It's a complete suite, Madam. And if there's anything at all, just pick up the phone."

The redhead smiled at her in a comforting way, so much so that Anna-Lisa simply nodded and went to the elevator. It opened and picked a floor on its own.

When the doors opened next time, Anna-Lisa gasped. "It's wonderful!" And she was right. The view was almost the same as her own. In fact, she could see her office from here. She'd forgotten to turn off the lights. But that wasn't all. In the enormous room there was a couple of tables laid out with food, with drinks. At the other end was a handsome bed, glowing with a soft blue light. There was also a bathroom and a closet. She walked up to it.

"Oh!"

Inside were rows upon rows of outfits, both male and female, and next to them whips and chains and so many other things that she shut it close before she saw half of them. She pressed her back against the doors.

In just a millisecond she'd opened a door between a five-star hotel and the deepest corners of her mind. She couldn't unsee it, latex, black and tight, things that screamed for her fingers to curl around them.

She fanned herself with her hand. "I never... Oh?"

If she'd been wet before, she was flooding the basement now. She pushed her little fingers down her skirt, pulled them up with a gasp.

Feeling dirty she went into the bathroom. In the wardrobe next to it hung several lovely kimonos, black and red and green and yellow. She picked out a cream colored one, and after a quick body shower, a fresh layer of makeup, she put it on. Then she heard small movements in the other room.

Preparing her face in the mirror, she took a deep breath. She was the one in charge here. She'd paid for it after all. No one would question her, especially not the young thing waiting for her right now. Trembling, she tried to remind herself that he was probably more afraid of her than the other way around. And she felt really good in the thick silk of the kimono.

Walking out of the bathroom she avoided looking at him for as long as possible. It was a power move she'd used before. It would make him question the relation between them. Calmly and confident she moved to the loaded table, picked up a glass, poured a delicious amount of red wine. It was an expensive bottle. Only that saved it when she turned around. She couldn't let her hands drop it. But her mouth opened, her eyes too.

"Mom!" the young man in front of her screamed.

Steadying herself, she put a small amount of wine inside her mouth, tasting it. She closed her eyes. It was really fucking good.

Opening her eyes again, she saw him standing with his hands before him, covering his naked crotch. His strawberry blonde hair moved back and forth as he tried to see if someone else was in the room with them.

"Mom, I... What are you doing here, mom?"

She realized that he, even though she came out of the bathroom wearing a thousand-dollar kimono, couldn't actually believe that his mother would come here for any other reason than him.

Swallowing he took a step forward, hunched over his cock. "Mom, listen, I can explain. It's not what you think."

"Oh, and what's that?"

He opened his mouth.

"Don't answer that," she said. "Just... don't."

He shut his mouth. Once again, he turned his head around. Looking for an exit, she imagined.

"So, this is what you do?" she asked herself.

Taking another sip from the glass, she swirled it around her mouth. There was something about a good bottle of wine, of any experience above everything else. You couldn't stay focused on ordinary things when you tasted something like that, not even ugly, petty things.

Turning her back on him, she walked to the impressive view, felt the soft rug under her naked feet. She continued to see him in the reflection, a much smaller version of herself, but with his father's strawberry blonde hair. He even had his body, when he was young. Good-looking guy, she thought with a sneer. So, this was what he was doing, when he wasn't at home? His father wouldn't know anything about it, nor care.

Motherfucking Jesus crispers, she thought. He's really ripped. He must have worked out, hard. And from the motions of his hands, he had a severe problem covering whatever he was hiding under there.

Besides that, she thought about the ticking clock, about her minutes here dripping down the drain. She tasted some of the wine again. She almost hoped that it wouldn't be as good the third time around, but it was even better. Her mouth was ready for it now.

"Problem is," she mused, "I don't need a son right now."

It's too late, she thought. I don't even recognize you anymore. You could be my son, or one of my friends' sons, or some desperate young man in need of some cash.

He looked up. He had been staring at the floor. His mouth was wide open.

"You like it here?" she asked. "They pay you good?"

"Y-yes."

"And if I complain?"

"They would kick me out for sure."

"Good." She took some more of the delicious, round wine. "Come closer."

One careful step at a time he approached her. Still, he kept his hands over his crotch, but as she looked closer, she could see him peaking around his fingers, the swollen length of him. He wasn't hard, but it was a beast of a cock.

Like father like son, she thought. Her husband also had a big cock. She remembered what it used to feel like, before he took it out of the house and put it into one of his sluts instead. Like nothing she'd ever felt before, or since.

"Do you usually do it with your hands around your cock?" she asked.

"No, but..."

"But what?"

He started to shiver all the way down his body. He curled his toes on the carpet. They had even fixed his toenails, and as she looked with a more... discerning eye, she saw traces of trimming all around his body, from his face to his body hair, even a little makeup.

Then he dropped his hands to his sides, or rather pulled them there. She chuckled.

"Do you usually greet them like this?" she asked, but couldn't help it when her tongue flicked over her lips. Even though he hung between his thighs, he was impressive. But now she saw the weakness in his eyes. Like his father in more ways than one, she thought with disappointment.

"No... but..."

"Again, why?"

He looked into her eyes, pleading. "You're my mom!"

"You sure about that?" she asked, and headed for the phone. But he interrupted her with his hand movements. "No, then tell me what you usually do in situations like this. I imagine that it happens."

Silently, head bent forward, he walked to the closet. There, close to the floor, was a secret compartment. He showed her a grey pill.

"Take it," she said.

"Okay, I will, but can you take me home then, please?"

She didn't say anything. Staring, she wanted to chuckle. He still thought that this was a kind of punishment, that she had tracked him down here for some reason, and was just about to make him feel really bad before she took him home with her, with a promise that he would never do any of these things ever again.

Now that she thought about it, why wasn't that a part of her plan?

Because I have a tight schedule, she thought.

Opening his mouth, putting the pill on his tongue, he swallowed it with a bit of water. He had his own supply, in the same little compartment. The plastic bottle crinkled in his hand.

He looked away from her, but she was curious. There was a chair close to him, and sitting down in it she held him with her gaze, turning it slowly down to the dangling meat between his trembling legs. She wondered how long it would take when she heard him groan, and blood suddenly started to pump into his cock. She saw it twitch, starting to rise. And swell. He seemed to bend his body forward from the weight of it, but then she realized that it couldn't be completely pleasant, a forced erection. Still, he tried to look neutral as his cock rose up to touch his lower abdomen. Fully grown she knew that she couldn't close her fingers around it. A tingling sensation moved down her breasts, to her fingers, deep inside her pussy.

She put the wine away.

"Stop staring, mom," he whispered.

"You didn't listen," she said. "I don't need a son right now."

Daring to take a look at her, he must have seen something he was used to, but not from her. How many women had come to him like this, asked him to do things for them? Many, she thought. She wondered if her secretary had been one of them.

"Why didn't you take it before?" she asked.

"They said I didn't need to," he mumbled.

"Why?"

"They said..." He turned scarlet red.

"What did they say?"

"They said that you were beautiful..."

Another compliment, she thought. I could get used to this. Truth couldn't possibly come from secretaries and whores, but maybe she didn't care anymore. She could feel herself rising higher on her feet, lifting her chin up, looking down on him.

"How does it feel?" she asked, with a pointed glance at his cock.

"Like I can't stop thinking about it..."

"It's really big."

"Mom!"

"Why, isn't that why you are here, why discerning ladies wants to meet you?"

"I don't know..."

"I think it is. That nice, fat cock of yours. It couldn't be for any other reason, certainly not for your charms."

"I don't usually..."

"Then what do you do?"

"T-touch them..."

"I guess that would be okay, a son touching his mother a little? And my feet are really hurting me. I could use a rub."

Leaning back in the chair she stretched one of her smooth legs towards him. He begged her with his eyes, but as she didn't relent, he got down on his knees in front of her. He had an excellent form. He had trained a lot on this, getting down on the floor in front of women who told him what to do. It was better than him doing the same to some poor collage graduate.

Trembling, he took her foot in his hands. They were soft and warm. He held it against his chest, and started to caress her with slow and pleasurable strokes, pressing his thumbs in all the right places.

"You're talented," she said. "But what should I do with this?"

Stretching out her other foot she placed it on his thigh. She could feel the pulse going through him, even though he held himself still. It got that much harder for him when she accidently leaned the side of her foot against his beating cock.

"It's hard to get comfortable," she whispered. "But there is nothing wrong with this. In fact, you should do this more often, show a little..." She pressed her foot a little harder against him, feeling the baby smooth skin of his cock. "... appreciation."

"Uhg..." He tried to sit still, but he didn't move his hands anymore. Head bent forward, it almost looked as if he was on his way to kissing her foot.

"Don't stop," she said. "Otherwise, I'm telling your boss. A lady, am I right?"

"Yes..." he whispered, continuing his slow and powerful movements. She felt him grow harder under the sole of her foot. Smooth and hard, just the way she wanted it.

Flushing, she looked down at him, as he kept going. Her lower foot never left him, but maybe it had gone far enough. When she changed places, she never let it get that close again.