Saturday Morning 25

This is a follow-on story to my previous work, Friday Night.

It is a fantasy.

Everyone is over 18 years of age.

I do not practice, nor have I ever practiced incest. Neither do I wish to have a sexual relationship with my own mother.

I am an amateur writer, still trying to learn the craft.

I would like to thank sadsack2008 for his editing skills and advice. Without his patience and knowledge you would actually be reading a very different tale. Thank you.

Any, and all, mistakes are my own.

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Saturday morning.

Mikey's alarm clock woke him. He slapped at the thing to stop it's buzzing.

He hadn't slept much, his mind had been too excited. Memories of his mom's body had kept him awake.

Not able to fall asleep, Mikey's mind had also run wild with thoughts of what his father might do, should he discover that his mom had gone further than just the blowjob Mikey had been allowed for good school work. That they'd had sex.

Eventually he must have fallen asleep.

Now, still yawning and wanting to go back to bed, Mikey got up and opened his curtains.

Through his window he could see his father busily working in the back garden, repairing the fence.

In the bathroom his eyes were drawn to the shower cubicle, the place where last night his mom had come to him and taken his cherry. Mikey remembered the amazing sensations he'd experienced. Given him by the hands, mouth and dark, hairy pussy of his mom.

He remembered feeling so empowered afterwards, he'd felt like a real man. Now, standing at the basin and looking at his reflection in the mirror, he just felt like his usual teenaged self.

Still in just the pajama bottoms and tee shirt he wore for bed, Mikey went downstairs. Through the living room and into the back kitchen. His bare feet slapping against the wooden flooring.

He grabbed himself some food, flicked the kettle on to boil, stood at the polished worktop and looked out the net curtains that were draped over the kitchen window.

As he made breakfast he watched his father tearing down what remained of the back fence. Watched him pull down the old fence panels and rotted fence posts. A sledge hammer stood to one side, next to the new timbers and wooden panels.

Pouring the hot water, Mikey thought about his father. Thought about him discovering the truth. The idea both sickened and excited him at the same time. He couldn't understand why.

Moving away from the window, he went and sat at the table to eat.

As he ate he heard the sound of the front door opening, heard his mom coming into the house. She was happily humming to herself as she came through the living room, she stepped into the kitchen and offered Mikey a good morning.

The last time Mikey had seen his mom had been last night. She'd been wrapped in just two towels and had been leaving the bathroom. Now, dressed for the day, she was wearing a sleeveless blouse, white in colour and featuring a row of buttons running down the middle. At her waist was a large fashionable belt, cinched over the casual, knee-length skirt she also wore.

Setting her handbag to hang from a chair back, she spoke to Mikey: "Wow, the traffic was heavy this morning. I didn't think I was ever going to get home."

Mikey finished his breakfast as she pottered around the kitchen, making herself a drink from the hot water he'd boiled. She was acting calm, normal. Totally unfazed about what they did last night. Mikey wasn't sure how he felt, nervous excitement, maybe.

"All okay?" she asked him, as she leaned her plump, round arse against the kitchen units behind her. Sandalled feet apart, shapely legs parted, her small hands lifting the drink she'd made to her lips.

She raised an eyebrow at him when he didn't answer.

Mikey found he couldn't.

He didn't know what to say.

He was looking at her, knowing that she was wearing clothes. But to his mind's eye all he could see was her naked.

He now knew what hid beneath her clothes.

The memory of her in the shower with him. Her mature MILF body, standing a head shorter than his own. Seeing the water slicking back her hair into a dark ribbon flowing past her shoulders, pasting itself to her body.

Shower water running over the full, generously rounded curves of her matronly breasts. The dark points of her nipples wet and soapy as they stuck out from their circular areola. The water flowing over her wet tits and into the valley of her cleavage between.

Mikey's mindseye replayed the visual memory of his mom in the shower. He saw her trim tummy and her flared hips. The full, round cheeks of her arse. The secret way she grew the dark curls atop her pubic mound.

His memories fast forwarded to them coming together.

How her small hands had felt on his cock. Holding him. Caressing him. Slowly jerking him. Seeing his mom's weighty tits swinging beneath her as she leant over, against the tiled shower cubicle wall, getting herself into position to allow him to enter her.

How he'd moved her feet apart, her shapely legs coming open, unlocking the entrance to her forbidden vagina.

The hot touch of his mom's pussy as his body first made contact. Feeling her hairy gash spreading for his cock, the wetness inside, the heat. The near indescribable pleasure as he sank himself into it's clenching grip.

Mikey relived, through his memories, the sensations of holding his mom as he took her. Fucking her as the hot water sprayed down over them. Cumming inside of her cunt and watching his thick semen dripping out, past her wavy labia and coating the dark, furry hairs that lovingly covered her twat.

Hearing his mom's voice brought Mikey out of his daydream.

"Cat got your tongue, again?" She asked, looking at him from where she stood.

Mikey had to collect his thoughts before he could answer: "Um, sorry. What did you say?"

"I asked if you were okay," she smiled at him. "Then your eyes glazed over as if you'd been bewitched. A goofy grin came to your face, you began to drool and make funny noises. You looked like the neighbour's dog does, when he tries to hump someone's leg."

Mikey sheepishly laughed. "No I didn't."

"No, you didn't," his mom laughed, too. "But I expected more of a response from you than I got. Sitting there like you'd never seen me before. Hard-on tenting your pajamas."

Mikey looked down into his lap. At the tented fabric pushing up at his groin. He coloured in embarrassment when he noticed the dark, wet stain over his dick.

"It's not what it looks like," he quickly burst out. "I didn't cum."

She gave him one of her withering stares.

"Really." She began. "I am your mother. I think I know how these things work. I can tell the difference between ejaculate and pre-seminal fluid."

Mikey was taken aback with the use of the technical sounding terms, his memory quickly skipping back to his biology lessons, trying to remember what pre-seminal meant.

"Besides," she said. "After last night, I'm quite knowledgeable on the heavy load your capable of. That little mess is no way comparable to the flood you gave me."

Listening to her talk about him cumming, staring directly at him as she did. Catching him with an erection, no matter that they were now, technically, lovers, still made him want to make an excuse and run to his room.

An uncomfortable silence filled the room. Mikey didn't know what to say, or how to act. He suddenly felt very much like a virgin again.

His mom was still looking at him.

He felt himself blushing. His cheeks burning.

He could feel himself sweating, his ass sticking to the wooden seat of the chair beneath him.

He wished for his erection to go down, to vanish. But all he felt was fresh wetness coating the throbbing tip, further staining the front of his pajamas.

Mikey got up, grabbed his things and dumped them in the sink. Painfully aware that he was standing close to his mom as he did.

Her hand caught his arm as he made to turn.

Mikey was forced to look at her. He felt he would die from embarrassment.

Her eyes held him in their gaze and he felt he couldn't escape from her.

He was standing so close that he could smell her perfume. So close that he could clearly make out each of the individual lashes around each of her dark eyes.

Looking at his mom's pretty face meant he was taken by surprise when she touched the front of his pajama bottoms. His hips reflexively pulled back as his mom's fingers brushed over the tented fabric over his cock.

Mikey's knees suddenly felt weak.

He felt lightheaded.

He knew his mouth was open and he needed to close it, but all he could do was stand there and watch as his mom craned her head upwards and brought her lips to his ear.

"Reach under my skirt and take off my knickers."

"What?" Mikey croaked, feeling stupid. Making him even more embarrassed.

His mom's fingers eased down the waistband of his bottoms, over his straining erection, as she spoke: "I want you to get down on your knees. Lift up the front of my skirt. Take hold of my wet panties and take them off," she told him, matter of factly. "Then I want you to go and sit back on your chair, dick out, and I'm going to sit on it. Got that?"

Mikey shot a look through the net curtains, through the window at his father.

"What about Dad?"

"What about him?"

"But he's outside."

"So? I don't think he'd want to come in and watch, do you?"

Mikey was nervous. Excited. Physically aroused. All at the same time.

His mom's fingers wrapped softly around his swollen prick. Slowly she drew her fist down, then up, along his veined shaft.

A groan escaped his lips before he could prevent it, robbing him of the words he was about to say. Killing off any nervous protests before Mikey had had chance to voice them.

Mikey looked out through the window, seeing his dad still out there.

His legs wobbled as his mom added a milking squeeze to her hand's action. He had to seize hold of the worktop to help steady himself. The muscles in his right thigh were shaking uncontrollably.

"We shouldn't," Mikey managed to gasp out. "Dad's just out there. He'll know what we did, should he see us."

Suddenly his mom let go of him. Took three steps back and created a gap between them.

She looked at him expectantly but did nothing else. Folding her arms under her big breasts, she waited for him.

"It's up to you, Son. You can stand there, and do nothing. Knowing that I'm hot and dripping and willing to let you get your dick inside of me. Have it snugly held within my little pussy as I sit on your lap. Kissing you. Rubbing my big tits against you. Riding your gloriously hard and throbbing prick." She paused and took a breath. "Don't you want to love your Mom anymore?"

Mikey's embarrassment had vanished while he'd listened. As his hormonal teenage need for sex had grown more and more urgent his arousal had overcome it.

He looked out at his dad. Way back down the bottom of the garden, busy.

He looked back at her, next to him. Waiting for him to decide.

His dick ached for his mom to touch it again.

She spoke, her words giving him courage, determination. She repeated herself: "You're a man now, Son."

Mikey found himself closing the short distance between them, the arguments not to do this were growing less and less important to his mind.

He knelt down before his mom, his head below the level of the kitchen worktop.

His hands found themselves on her calves before Mikey knew what he was doing.

His arms were shaking. His hands felt numb. With his eyes tightly closed, Mikey struggled to control his breathing. His heart was racing and he was so excited that he felt slightly sick.

As his hands lifted the hem of his mom's skirt away from her skin, the fuller form of her thighs were bared to his eyes. His hands slipped underneath the material. The heat of his mom's body warmed his touch. Mikey slowed his palms progress towards her still hidden panties, he had to stop and grip the firmness of her legs, to hold himself steady, as a last bout of nerves overtook him.

He heard his dad outside, the sound of him pounding a new fence post into the ground with the hammer.

Mikey conquered his boyish nerves and pushed forward.

Slowly his palms stroked upwards towards the concealed underwear, his fingers following along the back of his mom's smooth thighs. His thumbs touched the soft material first, found the tiny stitching that kept the delicate clothing from fraying. His finger's slipped across the fuller back of the panty, smoothed over his mom's cheeky arse as his fingertips reached the waistband.

His hands suddenly couldn't move any further upwards. Mikey opened his eyes, searching to see what was the problem.

The restricting tightness shifted as his mom lifted the belt over her skirt slightly higher. His fingers now had the freedom to move, to capture, to tuck in beneath her hidden knickers and slowly begin the divestment of her clothing.

The last of Mikey's inexperienced anxiety vanished as the sexy purple panty his mom had been wearing was revealed to his eyes. Reverently he held the delicately soft, personal clothing. His fingers gently pulling them downward, over her knees, past her calves.

As the intimate lingerie reached her ankles she held up a foot, slipped free of her sandal, steadied herself with a hand atop the worktop counter. First one leg free, then the next. The material slipped over her painted toes.

Mikey sat back, looking down at the damp knickers he held in his hands. Feeling their softness. Playing with them, hanging them on the ends of his fingers. Tickling his aching balls as he dangled the fabric against their tight flesh. Shivering as he concentrated on dragging the soft purple material over his thickened shaft, across his own purpled cock-crown.

"Hang them from it," his mom requested.

He looked up at her, unsure what she meant.

"Hang my knickers on your cock. Let me see it, please."

Mikey did as she asked.

On his knees, his engorged dick stiffly angling outward from his body, Mikey hung his mom's sexy purple panties from atop his shaft. His wet-tipped, swollen cockhead proudly displayed as the conquering hero.

Even he recognised the symbolism.

Mikey's mom beamed with maternal pride and satisfaction. Smiling lovingly at him, laughing in delight as he made his cock wagg like a dog's tail.

Knelt beside the kitchen cupboards, Mikey's prick lifted and fell as he tightened and flexed his muscles. His dick moving back and forth as his mom's knickers slowly tumbled down his shaft, nestling among the pubes at his groin.

With one last wagg his cock came to rest.

Mikey looked up at his mom, aroused confidence filling him. Waiting to see what she now wanted him to do.

They both heard the noise from outside. Both ignored it.

His mom's foot slipped from the wedge heeled sandal she wore and moved forward across the space between them. Softly, tentatively, the pad of her largest toe touched the underside of his shaft, pushing against it, forcing it to push back against his body.

Balancing on one foot, she worked her toes up and down Mikey's shaft. The movement against his taut flesh causing his foreskin to peel back from across his cockhead. She broke contact, then brought the brightly painted nail of her big toe to touch the side of his spear-like organ. She traced along the outside length of him, stroked the nail down his shaft till she reached her bunched panties. Dragged her toes further downward and began to gently push against his balls.

"Shit," Mikey exhaled, as the pleasure of his mom massaging his nuts swept through his body.

His chin lifted, his eyes looking up to her, sweeping over her body as they did. Across her bloused middle, up, over her concealed heavy breasts, along her throat to her face. He saw the arousal in his mom's eyes, realised that his own probably burned with the same impassioned desire.

Her hands moved. Her fingers reaching for the hem of her skirt. Lifting it high up her thighs as he knelt raptly watching.

Mikey's breath caught as he feasted on the offered sight of his mom's vagina.

His pulse beat fast as he noted the signs of her physical excitement.

As his mom's foot worked over his hardness, Mikey's eyes took in the wetness that showed at the lips of her labia. He became fascinated by the glistening droplets of moisture that coated her tender, puffy flesh and clung to the fine, dark hairs that grew over her sex.

Mikey's fingers itched to touch her. To feel his mom's moist heat.

He tentatively reached out a hand towards her body.

His mom stood there and watched his progress.

A low, throaty purr emitted from her mouth as his hand took possession of her.

Mikey's palm cupped over her pussy. He ground the heel of his hand into her. Mashing her slippery labia against his palm, the inside of his wrist tickled by the short, dark, curly hairs that she grew atop her sex.

His mom's foot fell from his cock. It landed on the floor next to her discarded shoe. Her hips began to gyrate as her hands let the skirt slip. One reached for the kitchen worktop at her side. The other reaching out to his shoulder, gripping onto him as she steadied herself.

Mikey didn't particularly know what he was doing, but he didn't want to admit his ignorance. The way his mom was grinding her slippery pussy into his hand meant she was doing half the work, anyway.

It didn't take a genius to know when she reached her peak.

Her grip on his shoulder increased. His mom's shapely thighs closed around his hand at the top of her legs. Her cunt grew wetter. Dripping wet. Mikey felt the muscles around his mom's sex start to twitch. She humped his hand. Grinding down on it. Smearing it with wetness. Riding out her climax until she slowed. Stopped.

Hearing his mom's gentle laughter made Mikey look up.

The laughter made her voice light: "That's one way to ensure I don't make you cum, I suppose."

She turned her head and looked out the kitchen window before continuing. Her tone of voice, an attempt at seriousness, spoilt by the smirk she wore: "But remember, according to your Father's instructions, you're only allowed a blowjob on a friday night. And only if you've been a good little boy at school."

"Why did you agree to do it?" Mikey asked.

"Please, don't ruin the moment with serious questions."

Climbing to his feet Mikey stood before her. They stood together, close. She took his face in her hands and kissed him.

Soft. Gentle. Like a mother.

She breathed against his lips: "I can explain later. Not now."

She leant in and kissed him again. Like a lover.

"Now, cover yourself. Quickly," she warned him. "Your Father's coming in."

Covering his boner, Mikey dived onto a chair and pushed his lower body under the kitchen table. His mom pulled down her skirt and was just pushing her toes back into her sandals as Mikey's dad stepped in through the back door.

"You're back," he addressed his wife, as he stepped over to the sink, grabbed himself a used mug off the side and poured water into it. He drank noisily. "Huh, it's thirsty work out there. I'm sweating like a thief in front of a jury."

Mikey watched nervously, realising that he was sat unnaturally at the table with nothing in front of him. He felt sure his father would notice the lack of food or drink, recognising that something was obviously going on between his son and wife.

His mom cleared away the mug when his father just left it on the side. Mikey was near to panicking when his dad came and sat down across from him. He didn't know whether he should say something to break the silence. He worried that if he did talk his voice might sound unnatural. But he also worried that not doing so might indicate some form of guilt.