Dad's Anniversary

Thank you for reading my story, I hope that you enjoy it. Love Mica xx, Yorkshire England. All email comments good or critical welcomed. Please note that all email comments from an invalid email address will be deleted immediately and will not be read. Rude or abusive comments may result in blocking. Please note that I am a British female and I write in British English and vernacular, so for me a fanny is the correct term for female genitalia, a pussy is a pet cat and the ass is a bum or arse.

It had been two years since Dad had passed away, the first year had been hard, but once past the first anniversary, it got better for me. Not for Mum. She almost didn't forgive him for leaving her alone, and she grieved him every day, nothing anyone said seemed to lessen her grief. And to suggest that perhaps she be open to the idea of someone else in her later years, well, it was as if you had swore in her face. Oh, no, never anyone else. Today was the second anniversary.

I had arranged to take Mum to the garden centre cum nursery just off the ring road, to take her mind off the anniversary, and we would have a lunch whilst we where there. I had cleaned the car yesterday, Sunday, so Mum could not find anything to be unhappy about. She wouldn't say anything, not Mum, too polite, but she would have felt it and kept it to herself, tidy car, no need.

I pulled on to Mum's driveway, we had a while before the nursery opened, but I wanted to be plenty early enough so that we could get there in good time, find a decent parking spot and have the beginnings of a good look around before lunch time arrived. When I opened Mum's front door and called hello she was already there waiting for me.

"Hello Phillip," she greeted me, putting her arms out for a hug. I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her cheek, taking in a big breath of her perfume, crumbs it was heady. I could feel her breasts as they pushed against me as we hugged. What? Why was I noticing that for goodness sake?

"Hello Mum, you look lovely, how are you, are you ready for our little trip out?" I asked, stepping back, painfully conscious that my dick was hard and hoping that Mum hadn't noticed.

"I am fine Darling, looking forward to our trip out. Now, I have to say one thing before we go."

"Oh, what is that?"

"I am not senile or going dolally, but I may occasionally call you George today. You do look so much like your father, and sometimes I may walk down memory lane and accidentally use his name whilst I am back in my recollections. It doesn't mean you have to worry."

Well, that took me by surprise, I mean, yes, I do look a bit like Dad did, only natural I suppose. "Okay Mum, no worries and I shall respond appropriately. Let's just have a nice day and relive some happy memories."

I opened the front door of the house and went out, Mum followed and locked her front door, checking it was locked before walking to the car. I opened the passenger door and held her elbow as she sat. I pulled the seat belt for her and passed it across, watching as she plugged it in, chiding myself for noticing how it went between her breasts, making them more pronounced. What the hell was wrong with me?

"Elbows," I said as I shut the passenger door.

I walked round and got in the driver's side and shut the door. Crikey Mum's perfume was strong, really pervasive. I wondered what it was, it wasn't one that I recognise, my current girlfriend, Gemma, used Esteé Lauder, I have no idea which one, but it was flowery. Mum's scent wasn't flowery, in fact it defied description, it just kind of invaded my senses, took over, very odd.

As I was driving, conscious that I had a passenger, I was not only viewing the road through my eyes, but it felt like I was seeing the road through Mum's eyes too, it was very strange. I was comfortably aware of the risks, I was in control of the car, I was looking all around, but it also felt as if I wasn't in control, and risks somehow felt very different, seemed very different. I am sure I drove slower than usual. Most unlike me.

I pulled into the carpark and found a space quite near the entrance, an end space, so there was more room on Mum's side to open the door wider for her. I turned the car off and got out, walking round and opened Mum's door. As I did I saw her undoing the seat belt and watched as it moved away from her breasts, no longer highlighting them. Why was I looking at that? I have never thought of Mum as a woman, a sexual being, always as just 'Mum'. This was odd.

I helped Mum out of the car and then shut the door and locked the car.

"Shal we get a trolley Mum?" I asked.

"Yes, I think so," Mum said, "in case there are plants that I like. I can always find room in my garden for a nice plant."

There was a line of spare trolleys just by the entrance and I pulled one free.

"Do you want to push the trolley Mum, or shall I?"

"Oh, you push it, there's a dear," she replied.

"Okay, no worries, you lead the way and I shall follow."

We went in and of course we had to pass aisle after aisle of stupid trinkets and junk that all garden centres seem to stock these days, virtually all having nothing to do with gardening, and also the 'outlet' stores selling over priced branded goods that no one bought because they were too expensive in the first place. We were early, and although the doors were open for browing, it would be another thirty minutes before they opened the tills.

Eventually we got out to the area of plants, first into a large covered area containing all the more sensitive plants that still needed to be protected from frosts.

"They do a nice selection of Tomato and Cucumber plants here in the spring," Mum said, "I like to get them for my greenhouse. I like to get an early stock so that they can get going on my window sills before I put them out in April."

"Well Mum," I answered, "then we shall just have to come back in March when they get their stocks in."

Mum squeezed my arm and we wandered past the rows of early plug plants, the annuals that you could buy now and force on for early summer planting, and eventually we got to the more hardy plants and shrubs.

"Oh that's a nice Acer," Mum said looking at a vibrant red shrub, "but I don't need any more Acers, I have five already."

We wandered up and down the rows, Mum examining some here and there, dismissing some, "oh goodness, that really is a poor specimen, that grower should be ashamed," she said looking at one especially poor looking Aster.

"Shall we go for an early Tea Mum, or do you want to push on a bit and then have lunch?" I asked.

"I will wait for lunch, but, if you don't mind, I could use the Ladies, let's head in that direction."

"Okay mum," I said and we turned to the left and headed towards the toilets.

We got to the toilet area and I stood to one side.

"You don't need to think about what I am doing, I am sure you know perfectly well," Mum said as she turned and walked into the Ladies toilet area.

Of course, my mind went straight to what she told me not to think about. It was as if I could feel the pressure in my own bladder. I could feel myself as I walked into the cubicle, even though I was stood outside holding the trolley. In my minds eye I saw into the bowl, ensuring the previous user had flushed, I saw myself turn around and pull up my dress and lower my knickers and then bend back and sit on the toilet. I felt the pressure release and felt the flow, I felt how it gushed past my labia, a slight tickle as it went and then the empty feeling as I finished and my bladder was empty.

I felt the slide of the tissue as I wiped, wiping down not up, cleaning myself and dropping the tissue into the bowl, standing up and pulling up my knickers, ensuring everything was as it should be, inspecting the bowl and then flushing and the cold water on my hands as I washed them under the tap, the slight awareness of between my legs as I walked and parts gently rubbed.

I shook my head to clear the images. There was something clearly wrong with me, why the hell was I living Mum's life today? What was up? Mum came back and I smiled, she had clearly had another spray of her scent, it was once more quite pronounced.

We wandered back to the perennials, and Mum was quite pleased to have found the Heleborus.

"Oh look, they have some white ones, all of mine are a dark purple, I must get some of these."

She spent ages going through the pots and eventually selected the four that she considered the most robust with the strongest looking growth, they went into the trolley.

"I shan't need any compost Phillip," Mum said, "I still have about a third of a bag at home, that will be more than enough."

"What about fertiliser Mum?"

"No, I am fine for that too," she answered.

We wandered around for about another hour until we had exhausted the plants that Mum would consider for her garden and found ourselves at the restaurant. I left the trolley just outside but where we would be able to see it and keep a good eye on it. We went in and ordered our food, we both selected the roast lunch. We were given a post with a number on it and a ticket for the checkout. We also selected some scones for desert and two pots of tea.

After I had paid we took our tray containing our main meal post, me following in the trail of Mum's scent, with our scones and teas on a small tray and found a table nicely in view of our trolley. As we sat, I felt acutely aware of how Mum felt as she sat down, it was as if I were her again, I felt my dress taught under my thighs, a slight awareness of between my legs, the feeling of the air as it moved around my legs under my dress.

I shook my head again and then was aware of myself, how hard I was, how my dick was caught in the folds of my underwear, some pain as it couldn't properly straighten out. Could I adjust it under the table I wondered. I sat opposite Mum and managed to straighten myself out, that was better, but why, why was I having these feelings, why was I seemingly so in tune with Mum.

"Oh George," Mum said, using Dad's name, "it is so lovely here and so relaxing."

"Yes it is," I answered, not using 'Mum' in my reply.

"Oh we have spent so many happy hours here," she said and I had a vision of her looking across at me, seeing Dad through her eyes, felling a warmth in my crotch, her crotch, feeling my femininity, not masculineness, no, a moistness, not a hard dick. It was as if I were sharing her thoughts her memories.

I crossed and uncrossed my legs and it felt as if I had labia and they were sliding past each other, not as if I had a hard dick trapped in the confines of my underwear. God man, get a grip.

Our lunches arrived and they looked good. Roast chicken, sprouts, cabbage, potato mash, peas and gravy. Not haut cuisine by any means, but looked hearty.

"This looks nice George," Mum said and I smiled and agreed.

There was a draught passing us, I think when doors opened at the front, I wasn't sure, but every time it did, it wafted more of Mum's scent my way. By now I was used to the aroma and happily it did not detract from the smell of the lunch which was really nice.

We ate and I think we both finished at the same time, mum stacking our two plates and putting them on the tray, and then pouring tea.

I buttered my scone and added the jam and the cream and took a mouthful, oh, that was nice. The scone was crumbly and the jam was sweet but strongly flavoured of strawberries, perfect. I sipped my tea, a perfect tartness to counter the sweet of the scone.

"Oh George," Mum sighed, a happy sigh.

We finished our scones and tea and Mum piled everything onto the tray and I took it to the dirty plates collection point and then took Mum's arm and we walked back to our trolley, Mum checking every plant as if she suspected someone would have changed them or interfered with them in some way.

We wandered around the garden furniture and accessories area for a while, nothing seemingly piqued enough interest and so we went to the tills and I paid for mum's plants.

"Thank you darling," Mum said, hugging me, her breasts pressing into my chest, my dick hard and pressing against her. I was mortified as I had a sudden insight, a feeling of how my dick felt against Mum's stomach as if I were her. Mum smiled and we walked back to the car.

I opened the door and again I held Mum's elbow as she sat, aware how her dress was smooth underneath her, how the seatbelt dissected her breasts, accentuating their roundness, her femininity.

"Elbows," as I closed the car door and went around and sat in the driver's seat. Again that feeling of being both driver and passenger as I pulled out of the car park onto the bypass, having to head the wrong way before I could turn and go down the other carriageway to head back to Mum's.

Weird sense of perspective as I drove, both mine as the driver, and Mum's as the passenger, again I was driving a little slower than usual, keeping a greater distance between me and the car in front, that sort of thing. We got back to Mum's and I pulled on her drive, turned off the engine and went around to open the passenger door.

Mum undid her seatbelt, the belt easing away from the gap between her breasts, this time I noticed her nipples recede as her dress loosened around her breasts. I helped Mum out and she went and unlocked the house as I retrieved the plants from the boot and carried them to the house.

"On the kitchen table please Phillip," Mum said and I duly obliged, going back to close the boot and lock the car.

In the house Mum called, "in the loo," and I went into the kitchen and filled and turned on the kettle, I was sure we would have a cup of tea, and as I leant against the work surface that strange feeling of detachment returned. I could feel Mum's naked buttocks on the seat of the loo, I could feel the pressure release in her bladder, the same feeling I get when I go, just in a different internal place. I could feel the gush of the water as it passed her labia and the ease as she widened her legs to let the flow go easier.

The passage of the tissue as she wiped, the feeling of security almost as she pulled up her knickers and covered her crotch before she turned and flushed the loo. It was so strange. When she came out she had obviously refreshed the scent again, perhaps it wasn't long lasting, I didn't know, most women I know only spray in the morning and then perhaps once more later in the day. Mum seemed to spray about once per hour.

Mum reappeared from the loo and joined me in the kitchen.

"Thank you," she said "that was lovely," and she moved to me and embraced, her arms around me, her breasts once more pressing hard into my chest, me realising I could feel her nipples. My dick was hard, so very hard, and was pushing against her lower stomach, and I could feel how it felt to her, her feeling of initial surprise and then arousal.

Mum's hand slid between us and she squeezed my dick, there was no doubt that she knew I was aroused, no hiding place for me. I found my hand cupping her right breast, my finger and thumb seeking her nipple, holding it through the fabric of her clothes.

"Let's go upstairs George," Mum said, pulling away, a last squeeze of my dick before she turned and walked down the hall to the stairs. I slipped my shoes off and followed completely in a daze, unsure of really what was happening between us. In her bedroom she turned the quilt back and I walked up behind her as she stood at the side of her bed.

I undid the hook and eye at the top of her dress and then slowly lowered her zipper, it went all the way to her waist, pushing her dress over her arms. I then undid the three catches on her Bra back strap and pushed the shoulder straps over her arms, lowering her dress and bra at the same time. Mum was stood in front of me in just a petticoat and knickers. I put my hands in at her waist and pushed her petticoat and knickers down in one, Mum stepping out of them and moving forward.

I picked Mum's discarded clothes up and placed them on a chair and then pulled my Polo top off, adding it to the chair. I turned and Mum was sitting on the edge of the bed, I only looked at her face as I undid my belt, my trousers, and pulled them down along with my underpants. Naked I walked to the bed, my dick hard and sticking up in front of me.

Mum slid back on the bed and lay down, I joined her bending over to kiss her face, her nose, her eyebrows, and finally her lips. As out lips made contact she pulled my head in tight, her lips crushing mine as she whispered 'Oh George.'

My dick was pressing against her thigh, her nipple hard in my chest and I covered her, holding my dick I ran it along her crease and as I settled, it penetrated her and I was going inside my Mum.

As my dick moved I could feel how she felt, I could feel my dick slide along her fanny, my foreskin sliding back, unravelling inside her, the rim of my glans scraping her, it felt so utterly odd, I was feeling it from both her perspective and mine, shagger and shaggee.

We both sighed as I reached her depth, my dick pressing against the limit of her fanny, the limit of her fanny pressing against my glans, could she feel me as I was feeling her, I wondered.

Mum's hands were around my back, her nails digging into my shoulders and I began to move, my dick sliding easily inside Mum's fanny, my glans being covered and uncovered as I moved, Mum feeling every ripple of her fanny as it stretched around my dick.

"Oh George, Yes," Mum whispered as I shagged her, faster I went, deeper, my thrusts harder, Mum's gasps more pleasing as she enjoyed the coupling, no sense of shame between us, just a shag.

"Oh God, I'm going to finish," I gasped as my dick erupted inside Mum, me feeling the spashes deep inside her as if they were inside me, Mum gasped and I felt her small climax, the pleasures as they ran through her body.

Mum wrapped her legs around mine, her arms around me, not digging in, just holding, and she whispered "just hold me, love me," and I realised she was asleep.

I lay for a while and when Mum was in a deep sleep, I eased away, my dick falling out of her fanny as I moved down the bed. What to do? Should I get dressed and sit down stairs or perhaps slip away? No, both of those actions were of a coward, whatever had happened had happened, and I should face up to it.

I went to the loo and relieved my bladder and then back in her bedroom I could see the bottle of scent in her bag. I took it out and looked at it, no writing or marking on it at all. I sprayed some over Mum and sniffed at it as it lingered in the air. It was the same scent, was it the cause of our behaviour I wondered.

I sat on the bed edge and realised Mum had not really had a proper orgasm, I realised that I hadn't even looked at her fanny, I had literally lay on her and shagged her. I needed to remedy that.

Back on the bed proper I eased Mum's legs apart and looked closely at her fanny, the place of my creation. She had a tidy garden of grey hair above hair crease, I hadn't noticed that before. Her crease was slightly gaping with her inner fanny lips peeping out from between. She had a small dimple at the top of her crease, and her crease disappeared underneath her.

I eased her legs a little more apart, her crease widening, and I could see her fanny, still slightly gaping, white spunk dribbling from it and running down underneath her. I bent forward and ran my tongue between her fanny lips, tasting myself and her, feeling my tongue on her as if I were her, me gasping at the pleasure as my tongue moved.

I covered her fanny with my mouth and sucked, pulling out my spunk, swallowing it, drinking it from her, gasping as the pleasures rippled through her. I moved up her crease, my tongue dragging along her valley floor, me feeling every part of my rough tongue as it slid along her until I found her clitoris. As I found it and dabbed at it, Mum's eyes opened and she gasped loudly, and I felt her pleasure course through my body.