Ballroom

Thank you for reading my story. Please enjoy, love Mica xx

Jack is nineteen and still lives at home with his dad Paul and me, Mica. Paul works away sometimes, and so there are times when it is just Jack and I at home. Today is one of those times. But today is not an ordinary one of those times.

Paul had bought tickets for a dinner and cabaret at Napoleons Ballroom in town. The tickets were hard to come by and can't be changed or refunded. I found this out today when Paul was called unexpectedly away to East Anglia, a long drive down the M1 and turn left before you hit Milton Keynes, and I rang Napoleons to rearrange.

"I am sorry madam, but this tickets cannot be refunded or exchanged," said the smooth flunky on the phone, "perhaps madam could gift them to a friend who could use them instead."

Well, madam had no intention of missing the show, and if they couldn't move madam to another night, then madam would damn well see the show tonight.

"Jack," I called when I got off the phone.

"What?" He yelled back.

"We are going out tonight."

"What? What going out, I have plans mum." He had come down stairs and was standing in the doorway in his T-shirt and underpants.

"Change them. We are going out to dinner."

"What dinner, where?"

"Your dad and I were going out to dinner at Napoleons, only he has been called away, so you are going to be my date. You are about Pauls size, so you can wear his tux."

He sighed. "Okay mum, how are we getting there, can I drive?"

"Uber. So no you can't drive, there will be alcohol, so, no driving for either of us. We need to leave at seven thirty, so you need to shower and shave, sooner rather than later."

Jack turned and left. He would be using the family bathroom, I would use the ensuite. I grabbed a glass of water and went upstairs. There would be a lot of alcohol later and I wanted to be hydrated.

I heard Jack fussing in the bathroom, so I went through Paul's wardrobe and found his Tuxedo, dress shirt and bow tie. I walked through to Jacks room to put on the bed and came face to face with a very naked nineteen year old who I thought was in the shower.

I carried on without looking too often at his rather large penis. Once seen, you can't unsee it. Oh my goodness.

"Right, here is your dad's tux, shirt and tie. I am sure that you have socks and shoes that you can wear. I brushed past my son and put the clothes on his bed, turned around, brushed past him again and went into my bedroom.

Goodness, my heart was a flutter as they say. Well now, he is a big boy. I knew he was not small, but I had only ever seen the bulge in his pants, and that obviously hid his real size. 'Crumbs I hope it takes it easy with his girlfriends' I thought.

I had a long pale blue dress to wear. It was off the shoulder and so no bra, but I had nipple pasties to use. Shoes would be my Christian Louboutain black pumps. I had a matching black clutch that would be big enough for some cash, credit card, door key, lips salve and a few tissues.

I stripped and as I went to my ensuite, I realised that I had left my bedroom door open, I must remember to close it when I came out of the shower. I walked into the shower and set it for rain spray on the lower rose. I didn't want to get my hair wet, and although I had a shower cap, they were not infallible.

I turned my back to the shower and rubbed shaving gel on my mons and surrounds, grabbed my venus lady shave and smoothed myself, made sure no stragglers or spiky bits. It wouldn't matter tonight of course, I was going with my son and he was hardly likely to find out if I had shaved or not, but it was my routine, and I hate altering a routine.

I bent my knees slightly and aimed the shower rose upwards to rinse away any shaving gel, and as it always does it tickled, small electric jolts shooting from my crotch. I gasped one of those little gasps that should only be heard in intimate company. Luckily, or not, I was alone.

I applied washing gel to my scrunchie and gave myself a good lathering, finishing with another of those little gasp inducing rinses. I turned off the shower removed my shower cap and squeegeed off as much water as I could before I got out of the shower.

I patted myself dry and went into the bedroom to apply my makeup. I put a towel on my dresser stool and sat down to do my makeup before I went anywhere near my clothes. A little foundation and some blusher, and a highlighter for my cheeks. Eye shadow, blue to match my dress, but only a smear, not 1970's ABBA style, and then mascara.

I did my nails a bright Ferrari red and sat with them under the dryer for a few minutes, then a top coat and then another few minutes drying. I looked in the mirror and was pleased with what I saw. Excellent.

I looked at my watch, still time, so diamond earrings that Paul bought me when we were in Dubai a couple of years ago, and a drop sapphire pendant necklace that would harmonise with my dress.

I slipped on my nude colour no visible lines panties and stepped into my dress. Oh no, that would not do, I had my doubts and they were confirmed. This dress showed my pantie line very clearly, and in the lights of the Napoleon, it would be even worse. The panties came off. I used the tit tape and stuck my pasties over my nipples and stepped back into my dress.

I stepped back and looked in the mirror. Perfect. No one could see that I wasn't wearing underwear. Excellent. Admittedly my boobs were a little low, but, then I am in my forties, they aren't going to be under my chin like a teenager's.

"How are you doing?" I called to Jack, "are you dressed yet?"

"Yes, but I can't do this bloody tie."

I went through to his bedroom, "let me look."

His dad's clothes actually fitted quite well, considering.

"Your shirt seems bunched in your trousers. I will stand behind you, you undo your trousers, I will hold them and you flatten your shirt tails down into your trousers, then you can do your trousers up again. As I stood behind him, I realised that we were standing directly in front of his mirror. Oh well, he had underpants on.

Jack undid his trousers and I opened the waist so he could push his shirt tails down.

"Jack," I exclaimed, "why the hell aren't you wearing pants?" His penis was readily on view.

"Because they dig in underneath in these trousers and were bloody uncomfortable."

"Well I can hardly give you any of mine, they want a flat front, not a shaped one." The best words I could find, ladies pants did not expect a huge penis in them. "Pull your shirt tails down as far as they go, and then we will do up your trousers and see how it looks."

To be honest, I couldn't exactly chide him for no pants when I wasn't wearing any myself. Tails down, trousers refixed and I stepped back.

"Turn around, let me look."

"Yes that is fine. Don't forget a handkerchief, just in case. Now come here and let me tie your bow tie."

I can easily do up a bow tie on someone else, I often do Paul's, but it does mean standing quite close, basically inside the wearers personal space. I was close to him and his perfume was quite strong. It always amused me that the young felt it necessary to cover themselves in so much perfume. Less is more. I straightened the tie around his neck, made the one side longer and tied the bow. I was aware that my breasts were pressing against him as I evened up the bow, and usually it would be my husband and I wouldn't even notice, but, today it wasn't and I did.

"Right, put the jacket on, let's look at you."

My he looked handsome; a younger softer Paul stood before me. "You'll have all the ladies swooning Jack, just remember you're with me," I laughed.

I went back to my room, sat on my stool and slipped my pumps on, I hoped Jack had decent shoes, his preferred trainers would not cut the mustard tonight. I stood and looked in the mirror again, turning this way and that. I nodded my head, very satisfied with what I saw. Paul would have been very proud of me tonight.

I went downstairs, double checked that all the doors and windows were shut and locked and turned to the front as Jack came down.

"Are they your dad's patent shoes baby?" I asked.

"Yes, none of mine were good enough so I found these."

Well that was embarrassing. In the same box as Paul's patent shoes were our intimate toys, the ones you never want anyone to find, the ones you don't keep in the bedside drawer. Oh my.

"Okay, do they fit okay, they look good."

"Perfect fit mum."

I heard a car horn, "The Uber is here, come on, let's go."

When we got out at Napoleon's, Jack slipped his arm through mine and escorted me to the door. He gave the greeter our names and we were asked to wait a moment.

"Will you be okay waiting Mica?" He asked, or would you like them to find a seat for you whilst we wait." Ever the gentleman, he was really stepping up, and Mica, not mum.

"I will be alright for a moment, as long as the holdup is brief," I answered.

"Ah, your table is ready now madam, sir, please follow Miguel, he will show you to your table and arrange for your aperitif." Well now, wasn't that quick. Well played Jack.

"Thank you," Jack said to the greeter who did not seem important enough to have his name on his clothing.

"Good evening Madam, Sir, I am Miguel, allow me to escort you to your table." We followed him and we were led to a nice table on the edge of the dance floor. A small three piece combo were playing background music on the other side of the dance floor. Jack held my chair for me and pushed it under me as we sat.

We ordered drinks, I had a martini, Jack a Jack Daniels and coke and we ordered a bottle of water. Miguel left us to it after enquiring if we had any allergies that we should let chef be aware of. We didn't.

As we sat and enjoyed our drinks I looked at Jack in the club light. He really was quite the handsome young man and I was a little surprised that he didn't have a regular girlfriend. A question for another time, whatever the reason, I didn't want to spoil his evening with questions that may be embarrassing.

Our starters arrived. I had Truffle Tagliatelle and Jack had Miso Lamb Chops. Our main drinks were refreshed and a glass of Gewurztraminer was poured for us to accompany the first course, a robust enough white to go with most starters. As we ate, we were entertained by a troop who used black backgrounds and coloured clothes to misdirect us as to who was what on the stage. It was okay I suppose, but the starters were superb. After the plates had been cleared away there was a short break during which we finished our wine.

"Okay Jack?" I asked, chiding myself as I nearly called him Paul.

"Yes Mica, the food is excellent, yourself?"

"Yes Jack." I finished off my Martini and as I downed the glass it was refreshed, and a small water was poured for us each. Jack had another Jack Daniels. It amused me, I don't know why, that Jack was drinking Jack.

The fish course arrived, Spring Dover Sole Meunière, accompanied with a glass of Chablis. A modern comedienne took to the stage and regaled us with comedic references to menstruation. Jack seemed to find it funny, for me, it was hardly amusing let alone funny. We finished the fish course and it was cleared away.

"Did you really find her funny Jack."

"God no Mica, but is seemed rude not to laugh, and I didn't want to show you up, what did you think?"

"Frankly Pau.. Jack, I found her anything but funny. Her jokes were in poor taste and her whole set seemed based on women's period misfortunes, which most men wouldn't understand, and most women really don't want to hear."

"I agree. Periods are what help to make a woman a woman, they are, perhaps, a necessary evil, but taking the worst elements to them and making a stage show out of them is crass. She is doing it to shock, so that she can make a name for herself.

There was an interval before mains and the small combo started playing dance music. Jack put his napkin on the table, "Dance Mica?" He asked.

"I didn't know you could dance," I whispered.

"I can't, how difficult can it be to move slowly around holding a women you love?"

I wasn't going to argue with that, and we were both a bit tipsy by this time, several martinis and glasses of wine had me a little unsteady, and Jack who, as far as I know, hardly drank must have been just as bad if not worse.

The song was a slow smooch, no idea what but I had an idea it was an old Dean Martin number. Jack put his arm around my back, pulled me to him and put his other arm around my shoulder and pulled me in tight. Crumbs, that was tight. It was so tight that I would have been able to tell you that he wasn't wearing underwear, that is how tight.

His hand lowered a little and rested below my waist.

"Naughty Mica," he whispered in my ear as he traced my non-existent underwear through my dress. His penis was pushing into my upper mons, its presence very apparent, as was the fact that it was hardening.

"Naughty Jack, what thoughts are you having?" I asked.

"I am dancing with a beautiful woman, I am a man in my prime, what thoughts do you think I should be having?"

Well, I suppose he had a point, "but I am your mum."

"Are you Mica, tonight, are you?" And he pulled me tighter to him and he kissed my ear.

We rotated around the dance floor for a few laps with no apparent incident and when we went back to the table, as I sat, he bent forward and kissed me.

"Thank you for the dance, it was, well, it was arousing."

I couldn't respond to that. As his mum, I should not be arousing him.

Our drinks had been refreshed as we danced, and our main was served, Japanese Wagyu Sirloin A1+ with sides of truffle fries and purple carrots. Glasses of Chateau Neuf du Pape accompanied.

Someone who had won a tv talent show came on and sang ballads, she was really quite good, half sozzled and with your eyes closed you could really hear who the original artist was.

The evening progressed, more food, desert was chocolate fondants and basil ice cream, accompanied by Sauterne, and then cheese and biscuits and truffles and port.

We had a final dance to 'Who's taking you home tonight', where jack managed to grope me a little more overtly and also managed to press himself against me once more. As the dance finished he took my face in his hands and kissed me, his mouth open and tongue seeking, I found myself kissing back a little breathlessly.

In the taxi he had his hand on my knee and was slowly rubbing his palm up and down, and as he turned to kiss me again, he took my hand and placed it on his erection. There was no misunderstanding his intentions. When we got home, he held my waist as we walked to the door, and unlocked and went in.

He turned and locked the front door as I stood swaying in the hall way, the music from the club still reverberating in my ears. He slipped his shoes off and hung his jacket over the newel post. Undoing his bow tie and neck fastening he turned to me and simply kissed me, took my hand and led us to my bedroom.

He looked at my dress, puzzled.

"There is a zipper on the side," I said well aware that I should be sending him to his room.

He found and lowered the zip, my dress then easily slipped off my shoulder. He picked my dress up from the floor and placed it on my dresser stool. He knelt before me and lifted each foot in turn to remove my Christians. Standing again he gently removed my earrings and pendant, walking two steps to place them on my dresser.

Turning, he undid his trousers and let them fall, dipping to pick them up and add them to my stool, He slowly unbuttoned his shirt, turned, pulled it off and added it to the pile. He turned and quickly embraced me, his lips on mine, his hands slowly pushing me back to the bed. As my legs found the bed I sat, and Jack pushed me onto my back. His kisses moved to my breasts, my nipple pasties torn away and discarded somewhere in the room.

He gripped my nipples between his teeth, distracting me as his fingers slipped into the valley of my sex and found my entrance.

"Oh," I gasped at the intrusion, a taboo intrusion that should not, in my sane English world, be happening. He wiggled. I gasped again, another of those little intimate gasps that I had enjoyed in the shower. Jack released my nipple and moved down, kissing my navel, and then I felt his breath on my sex as the room swayed gently to the remembered sounds of the combo at the club.

His tongue, hot and wet, found my clitoris and stroked it, teasing it out of its hiding place.

"Oh."

His finger eased back a little and then pushed back in, only this time there were two. I could feel them as they moved around inside me, teasing my hymen scar, opening and stretching me, readying me for what was to come.

He sucked my clitoris into his mouth, nipping it with his teeth, my pressures began to build, my inhibitions waned, my arousal increased, every nerve in my body alive and receptive. My breath caught, I was gulping in, not letting out.

Jack released my clitoris and moved back up, removing his fingers, voiding me, and was again kissing me. I felt his penis nudging my entrance and his hand holding his penis, pushing it, lining it up and slowly entering me, opening me, stretching me more than I have been stretched for many years.

I felt him entering me, taking me beyond. My vagina was soaking, easing his passage as he pushed in, his foreskin hanging back, his cockhead revealing itself as his skin rolled back on his fat shaft. He was slowly, so slowly entering, filling, inching along inside me, my vagina slowly easing and stretching to take his massive girth. Every inch of my body seemed on fire as he possessed me, and then, he was in, I could feel the end of my vagina being pushed, pressed, as if he were trying to make extra room.

I managed to exhale, to relax, "Oh baby," I murmured, and he began to slowly pull back, my vagina relaxing, relieved of its burden. Almost back at my entrance, my vagina largely collapsing back to its normal size and he pushed back in, this time he was quicker, knowing that the way was prepared, knowing that I could take him, he started a gentle shag, moving inside me, perhaps just a few inches of him moving inside me, his foreskin rolling, my ripples and bumps feeling his movement and then he started to move faster, pressing more at my depth.

I had my fingernails pressed into his back and my legs had somehow wrapped around him, we were shagging, pure sex, not lovemaking, the sounds of sex echoing around the room, the slap as he pushed in, my grunts as he pushed in, squeaks I never knew this bed made, all joined together in a symphony of sex.

He was going faster and harder, his movements a blur, my inside unable to detect foreskin or rim, just the sensation of movement and pressure, my breath was holding, he started grunting and then he pushed in hard, I thought he would split me in two, and he held, I felt his jerks and then the ejaculations as he spurted inside me, and then he slumped down on me as my orgasm erupted, my back tightened, my vagina clamped and squeezed his penis and I screamed my release, the pleasure rivers shooting from my crotch, followed by the small pangs of pain as my nerves reacted to the over stimulation.

I slumped back, the room still swaying, a warmth in my gut, a cool dribble falling from my vagina, dripping down between the cheeks of my bottom. Jack rolled off me and lay by my side.

I had no words. Possibly the best shag of my life, totally taboo, never to be repeated. I fell asleep to the sways of the room. In the morning Jack was gone, I was alone with just a damp patch to remind me of the end of the evening. I looked, I could find no guilt or remorse.