Note: You might want to read part 1, but it's not essential. Just better :)
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Finally Friday arrived. That week at work I had been unable to think of much else. At least twice a day I almost telephoned mum to call it off, but each time something stopped me. I wanted this to happen. Just as much as she did.
I was as nervous as a 14 year old going on his first date as I got ready. I showered and shaved and groomed myself. Finally I got in the car ready for the 50 mile journey to the house where I grew up. The house where all my key sexual events had happened. That first time I woke up to find I had ejaculated in my pyjamas, fretting that mummy would ask questions. But mums don't. Who knows, maybe the encrusted pyjama bottoms are a source of great pride to them - their boy is becoming a man.
That first time I masturbated whilst thinking about Miss Gilbert the French teacher - that feeling of complete helplessness and fear as I unleashed my young seed.
Then there was that first experience with a woman when I was 17. What a farce that had been, over in seconds and with so many different types of contraceptive I might as well have been wearing a diving suit.
And now here I was, heading for another ...
I rang the bell. I still had a key but, I dunno, it seemed inappropriate.
Well I don't know if Mum had been practising the look or not, maybe she was just naturally sexy, but she looked me straight in the eyes and I felt the first twitchings of an erection. This was madness. I had seen her thousands of times before and managed to stay in control.
Her hair was black and shining like a raven's wing. She had on a little make up...her lips particularly seemed fuller than I've ever seen them.
She was wearing a black dress with a criss-crossy strap arrangement at the back. I was pretty sure she wasn't wearing a bra
The dress was knee length and under it she wore seamed black stockings like in those old 30's films.
In short - she looked fantastic!
We made small talk for 5 minutes or so. She sat beside me on the couch and asked about work, whether I was eating properly etc.
'Mum...'
She cocked an eyebrow at me. I love it when women do that normally, but to see my gorgeous mother using all the little flirty feminine tricks was just overwhelming.
We had almost finished the first bottle of wine. A full bodied red and I for one was feeling slightly oiled.
'Oh..', she said 'I haven't shown you my new PC have I? Come on'.
She took my hand and dragged me into the sitting room. There was a log fire burning in the grate. All her bookcases were as I remembered them, heaving with well thumbed classics, and there in the corner was her desk.
'It's a 1 gigahertz pIII with 256 RAM' she explained proudly. She sat at the black leather swivel chair and indicated I should sit in the comfortable armchair.
'And this is my web camera' she giggled.
I looked on the screen and saw her looking out at me just as she had a week ago. Only now I was in the room with her. We waved at eachother stupidly and laughed.
I moved up behind her as though to have a look
'Yes, it's very clear...the image. Very sharp'. Standing behind her I caught her scent. It wasn't all flowery and girlie...more...musky and mature. I leaned forward and kissed the back of her neck. She shivered slightly.
'And this...' her voice had taken on a different timbre..as though she was having trouble stringing her words. 'This is the software I use to connect to the chat rooms'
Her hand was quivering on the mouse as she guided the pointer to the icon. I placed my hand on hers and pressed her index finger twice on the mouse button. The program sprang into life, all to familiar to me.
Mum looked at me as if she needed reassurance.
'Steve, I don't...I mean last week was the first time I've gone that far'
