Awaening Obsession

Mom was out on her date with her boss, but with her advice – that I might want to wait up for her – still ringing in my ears all day, I tried to do just that. I showered after work, primped, put on only my bathrobe, and waited.

The wait was difficult. It was hard to imagine what they might be doing, eating dinner, drinking, laughing, flirting, whatever, without becoming consumed by jealousy. That feeling, though, only contributed to my immense horniness. The thought of my mother, on her knees, servicing another man, or on all fours, being taken from behind, made me stiffer and stiffer, and longing for her to come home. Every minute felt like an hour. I tried desperately to do anything, watch TV, listen to music, anything to keep occupied, but it only became tougher. Thankfully, at some point a long week of work combined with a late night – it was well past midnight – contributed to me falling asleep on the couch.

I wasn't sure of the time when I woke up, but I immediately knew what had awakened me. My mother was sitting on the edge of the couch, deliciously round ass pressing against my right hip. The devilish gleam in her eye and smirk on her lips told me she was having a good time. Her long gorgeous legs were crossed, and one black leather pump had slipped off her heel and swayed slightly as she moved her foot from side to side. I looked her up and down a couple of times, from the cleavage exposed by her half-unbuttoned shirt to the tips of her pointy toes. Mouth suddenly dry, I was able to croak out, "How did it go?"

Her smirk had deepened as she watched me check her out. "We had fun," she said, swinging her foot a little faster. She laughed at the look on my face, a throaty chuckle that contributed to her devilish air. She elaborated, talking about the restaurant they went to, what they had talked about, the normal stuff. My interest roused, though, when she again voiced that throaty laugh.

"The best part of dinner," she said, still laughing, "was when he dropped his napkin for the second time in 5 minutes and had to go under the table for it. I knew why, since you've done it so much. He was checking out my legs and hoping for a look up my skirt." As she laughed again I felt my face grow warm, not with embarrassment, but that feeling of jealousy slowly returning and with it, the slow stiffening of my member.

I'm sure Mom noticed my facial reaction, but she kept talking. "Just to see what he'd do, I uncrossed my legs as he bent down and left my knees apart, just enough. He was red enough when he came up for air, and he forgot his napkin!" At that, she laughed again. The surge of blood to both parts of my body quickened. "I think that may have been why he was in such a hurry to leave and go to his place." The jealous/horny feeling spiked at that.

She leaned back, resting her right arm on the other side of my body. As she did, she glanced down at my lap, and the robe must have done little to hide what was happening there. The smirk returned as she looked back up at me. "We scurried out of there, his hand on my ass the whole time. He walked me to my car, made sure I knew how to get to his house, and before I got in he kissed me. Hard. In a second I was pressed against the side of the car. As we kissed, his hands slid under my skirt, and he was able to verify what he'd already seen – I wasn't wearing panties. I think he would have tried to take me right there if someone else hadn't hit their auto locks right next to us."

By this time, my robe had given way, and my hardness was fully exposed, lying against my stomach. Part of me knew she was doing this deliberately, teasing me, but I'd responded, and my arousal was total. I could see my mother, kissing this man, his hands groping and squeezing the taut pale flesh of her buttocks, her letting him and loving it. She dropped her eyes from mine and was looking down at the open front of my robe. Slowly, she moved her left hand across and opened my robe even further, and my scrotum tightened and cock jumped as her hand came close. Her smile deepened as she dragged her long fingernails across my exposed thighs.

"He poured us some drinks," she continued, eyes still down as she toyed with me. We talked for a little while, but it wasn't long 'til we were kissing again. He couldn't keep his hands off my legs, which made me hotter and hotter. We occasionally broke off for some more drinks, but I think we just made out for the most part. My skirt was way up by now, as I'm sure you can imagine," and with that, she slowly drew a fingernail up the shaft of my penis, and I moaned softly.

She continued the contact, light and slow, as she went on. "When we weren't kissing, he couldn't keep his eyes off my legs. Another leg man in my life, lucky for me." I gasped as she slowly slid her hand around my shaft and squeezed it gently. She continued talking as her hand began a slow stroke. I was in another world, but still glued to the words she spoke.

"Finally, he got down on his knees in front of me. He slid his hands up my calves to my knees, which he gently spread apart. He kissed his way up my thighs, getting closer and closer. God, I was so hot, I wanted his tongue on me, I wanted to be licked, I was ready." Her hand was slowly picking up speed, and my breath was coming fast and harsh. Abruptly, she stopped, let go of me and stood up.

She laughed at my expression. "That's exactly what he looked like when I stood up, too. I told him I didn't go that far on a first date. I think he was mad, at first, but I stayed and kept talking to him, kept kissing him. I just wasn't going to go any further, no matter how much I wanted to." She started walking towards the head of the couch, practically strutting in her high heels, until she stood over my upturned face. She reached down, got a gentle fistful of hair, and pulled. I pushed myself with my feet until my neck was resting on the armrest and my head hung in the air, held up by the fingers curled in my hair.

With her other hand, she pulled her tight skirt up, and I was looking at her exposed sex and neatly trimmed hair, framed by the straps of her garters. "Now," she said, "my good boy is going to take care of his mother, and give her what she needs. Isn't that right?" I could only nod, swept up by my normally submissive mother's dominant behavior. She let go of my hair long enough to straddle my eager mouth, reaching behind her to entangle her fingers in it again, pulling my face further between her legs. I could barely breathe, but I didn't care, as my tongue and lips worked feverishly on her. She was grinding into my face just as furiously, rubbing herself against my chin. I thought I was going to pass out when I heard her begin to cry out. Her fingers tightened in my hair and I was pulled even harder into her.

We were both gasping for air when she let go and stepped away. Despite the lack of air, I wanted to be inside her so desperately that I swung my arm up to grab at her as she stepped away. My fingers only brushed the smooth nylon of one stocking as she took a few steps and I groaned involuntarily in dismay. She stopped and turned around, skirt still around her waist, chest heaving, and put her hands on her hips. "Nope, lover. Do it yourself. I told you to wait up for me." She stood, legs spread wide, and watched as I wasted no time in complying. In no time at all I was climaxing, staring at her body as I peaked. She waited until I was recovering before turning around, tossing a goodnight over her shoulder, and sauntered into her bedroom. I stared at the closed door for a good while, and decided that I enjoyed being submissive to her just as much as I enjoyed making her mine.

*

My face was buried between my mother's legs as she leaned against the front door. She was daintily holding her skirt up for me, and her pantyhose were rolled down to her knees. My hands were gripping the backs of her knees as I ravaged her with my tongue. She began to buck her hips, grinding into me, as she began to climax. I dutifully backed off the pressure, kissing her inner thighs as she rode her orgasm down. I pushed myself back a little, but stayed on my knees, looking up at her while she recovered.

In the week since her date, Mom hadn't let go of the reins of control. Every day was joyous torture for me, as she became more and more of a tease, but wouldn't let me have her. She had become very casual about how she dressed in front of me, and it wasn't uncommon for her to leave her robe unfastened most of the time. During the week at breakfast, she'd have her legs spread under the table, drop something on the floor, and ask me to get it for her. She took great delight in keeping me aroused around her, and it really seemed to keep her confidence high – I'd never seen her so relaxed and self-assured in my life. Sometimes she'd let me eat her out just before she left for work, like today, and I was all too eager to heed the request.

I wanted her so bad, every minute of every day, and she wouldn't let me do anything else. The closest I got was midweek, when she got home from work. She went into the bedroom to change from her work clothes, and came out wearing only her hose and heels. I couldn't keep my eyes off her as she nonchalantly moved around the kitchen, preparing for dinner. Finally, I broke, as she bending at the waist looking in the fridge. I pressed against her, my hardness pressing between her ass cheeks. As she straightened, I slid my hands over her bare chest and began to kiss the nape of her neck. She let me continue for a few seconds, rubbing her ass into my crotch, before saying "No" in her voice that meant no argument. I backed up, panting and feverish, and she walked away from the fridge to lean against the counter opposite me, legs apart. She slid her hand over her right breast, down her stomach, and under the waistband of her nylons. I freed myself from the constraints of my pants and stroked myself in front of her while she worked her hand. Watching each other get off seemed to heighten our pleasure, judging from how loudly and quickly it was over. She stayed dressed that way the whole night, and it was enough to nearly drive me insane with desire.

It was Friday again, and I was still on my knees as she pulled her nylons back in place. As she did, she told me, "I want you home and ready when I get back. I'll be going out for a few drinks after work. You won't be disappointed." With that, she smoothed her skirt, bent down, and kissed me on the mouth, tasting herself on my tongue. With a wink and a smirk, she walked out the door.

It should go without saying that I did exactly as I was told. I was cleaned, dressed, and ready as I'd been the prior week, but this time I wasn't going to fall asleep regardless of the time Mom got home. To burn off nervous energy, I cleaned most of the house, did the laundry, even mopped the kitchen. I caught myself looking out the window overlooking the parking lot two or three times an hour.

By the time I'd folded the last bit of laundry, I heard the key rattle in the door. My heart sped up and I felt my body flush with impending excitement. Imagine my confusion when I heard a voice from the door say, "A little help here?" It took me a second to recognize Donna's voice, since it was the last thing I'd expected. Walking around to the front door, I saw her struggling to handle my taller mother, who had her arm thrown over Donna's shoulder and seemed barely able to keep herself upright. I hurried over to take the other side, while Mom was giggling drunkenly.

As we supported her to the living room, Donna was talking about never seeing my mother this tanked before, to the point where she couldn't even walk. Donna started to direct her towards the bedroom, but Mom got her feet under her enough to go over to the easy chair near the couch instead. She sprawled down into it, arms and legs spread wide. I looked at Donna, who was still looking at Mom, and thought by the look on her face that Donna had planned to get some action before Mom passed out, and now she was left in the cold. I began to suspect that Mom's drunkenness wasn't everything it seemed to be.

I asked Donna if she'd like a glass of wine, and she jumped a little, like she'd forgotten I was there. I watched her eyes look me up and down in my robe, and she smiled suddenly, a hungry, almost predatory smile, and said that she'd love some. Minutes later, we were sitting on opposite ends of the couch, sipping wine. Donna had her shoes off and legs curled onto the sofa, facing me. My eyes kept dropping to the short skirt she was wearing which exposed almost all of her tanned, athletic legs. I could tell by the shimmer on the legs that she was wearing nylons, which she didn't really need to, but she probably was wearing them for Mom's benefit. The thought of this incredibly hot woman wanting to get up my mother's skirt was making it hard for me to keep my robe shut.

I'm sure she noticed the attention I was paying to her legs, because in no time she was running a hand "casually" along one curled leg. She didn't seem to be thinking about my mother any more, who was out of her line of sight over her left shoulder and was breathing deep and regular, like a sleeper. I brought my own legs up onto the couch, extending and crossing them at the ankles, directly facing Donna and still able to see Mom sprawled in her chair. Shortly after, Donna shifted herself until her back was against the armrest, legs bent at the knee, with her feet on either side of my legs. I now had a completely unobstructed view up her skirt, and even though we were still talking, I had no idea what I was saying or hearing.

A minute later, Donna was running one nylon-covered foot along my leg, first up to my knee, then getting a little higher with each pass. She turned her foot slightly, dipping her toes between my thighs, gently forcing them apart, which I certainly didn't resist. She used her foot to push my robe open as well, and she smiled at the erection she was causing. My breathing began to quicken as she started gliding her foot over it, pushing into my hardness, and I involuntarily glanced over at my mother. I wasn't sure, but I thought I could see a glimmer of light in her eyes. My attention was quickly taken elsewhere, though, as the foot left my groin and I could feel a pair of thighs moving up my legs. In a second, Donna was straddling me, rubbing her pantyhose-covered pussy against my erection and slipping her tongue in my mouth. I was gripping her tight ass and grinding back against her.

She broke off the kiss and panted at me, "Your mom was right – you are into nylon." I was startled, thinking that Mom had said something about our antics. She must have misunderstood the look, because she continued, "I figured you were, after our little dance together, but I asked her about it later. Innocently, of course. I'd never try to take advantage of her hot little boy." She kissed me again, still grinding away.

A few seconds later, she straightened her back and shifted her weight to her right leg. Bringing the other leg forward, she peeled down her hose, slipping her left leg out. She slid her wetness along my erection, twice, a third time, finally pushing herself down and taking me in her. She rocked gently back and forth as she pulled her shirt over her head and unsnapped her bra. I leaned forward and took one breast in my mouth, running my hands along her back. In turn, she wrapped one hand around the back of my head and gripped my shoulder with the other for support. I let her ride me, giving her control over the motion and speed, only pushing back into her slightly in rhythm. Soon enough, her rapid breathing and softly uttered curses told me that she'd climaxed.

I leaned back down against the couch, with a gut feeling telling me she wasn't done. Sure enough, she placed her hands on my chest and began moving again, slowly at first, with a slight circular twist to her pelvic movements. Her eyes were closed, concentrating on her pleasure, using me as a means to her explosive end. I certainly didn't mind being used. I was content to watch her petite tanned body working on mine, taking surprising pleasure in watching her achieve her own.

A small flicker of movement to my right caught my eye. I could see my mother still, and my earlier suspicion proved true. She was watching us, one hand under her nylons rubbing slowly between her spread legs. As I listened to Donna moaning her way to another climax, I watched my mother get herself off to the sight of her son and best friend fucking on the couch in front of her. When Mom bit her lip to keep from crying out, I almost went over the edge myself, but I summoned every ounce of self-control I had to stay in the game. Knowing I had an audience, I suddenly felt the need to provide my viewer with the best possible experience while simultaneously making sure my partner got everything she needed and more.

When Donna came for the second time, she didn't seem to remember that she needed to be quiet. Her moans were much louder the second time around, and the occasional "fuck yes" and "oh God" were clearly audible. She stretched back when she finished, lifting her hair from the back of her neck with both hands, breathing hard and smiling down at me. I sat forward, gently pulling her left foot forward so her leg was straight, followed by the right. I then pulled my legs up, lifted my back, wrapped my arms around Donna, and got up on my knees, still buried deep inside her. I leaned forward, gently laying her back on the couch. Hooking my elbows behind her knees, pulling her legs back, I began a slow deep rhythm, pulling nearly out of her before slowly pushing all the way back in. Keeping it slow helped me keep control, and I could hear Donna responding beneath me.

I lifted my head and locked eyes with my mother, now only six feet in front of me. She looked enraptured, glistening with sweat, lips apart, still rubbing herself. I stared at her while I continued my long slow pumping, gradually picking up speed. All three of us were in perfect time, Mom speeding up as I did, Donna giving voice once again to her orgasm. It was lucky for Mom that Donna was as loud as she was, because my mother's gasps would have been audible otherwise. I was pushed over the edge, thrusting deep and hard into Donna, until I finally collapsed onto her, our sweaty bodies intertwined and gasping for air.

We rested for a couple of minutes, getting our wind back. I reluctantly pushed off of her, pulling her up with me into a kiss. Donna was quickly putting her bra on, and glanced back to where my mother was still sprawled in the chair. The quick glance made her think Mom hadn't moved, but I knew from the slightly hiked skirt, open blouse, and sheen of sweat that she had. I looked back at Donna while she pulled her shirt back on, then stood and finished taking off her hose. She asked me if I needed help putting Mom to bed; smiling inwardly, I told her she'd be fine to sleep it off on the chair. Donna kissed me again, hard.

"I'll see you later," she said, putting force and meaning into those words. I walked her to the door, and we kissed again before she walked out. Sliding her hand down to cup me, she broke the kiss and said, "God, I needed that." With that, she turned and padded off to her car in her bare feet, shoes and hose in her hands. I shut the door, feeling good. When I looked over at the living room, the chair was empty and Mom's door was shut. I couldn't help but be disappointed, spent though I was, and went to lie down in my own bed. I slid naked between the sheets, and it didn't take long before I started to drowse off.

I awoke no more than a minute later, from the movement of the sheet and blanket being pulled off my body. I looked down to see my mother kneeling next to the bed, bending over my lap. I gasped as she took me into her wet mouth, her tongue working over my head. I began to stiffen again as she eagerly fellated me, working her hand at the base of the shaft, tasting the juices of her best friend on her son's member. She began talking, interrupting herself to take me back into her mouth often, and working with her hand while she spoke.