When Mom Eats Pussy

It started on a rainy day. My last college course of the afternoon was canceled which allowed me to go home early. And to my surprise, when I arrived home, I saw my mother's car parked in the driveway. It was unusual because she was such a busy woman and often worked late.

The house was quiet when I entered through the front door, with the exception of the heavy raindrops falling outside. Mom was nowhere in sight. I figured she must have been in her room upstairs since there were no signs of her except for her shoes, which were neatly placed by the door.

But as I made my way up the stairs, I heard something; a faint noise. It was coming from my mother's room and her door was wide open. She obviously hadn't expected me to be home. I heard it again. Could that noise have been what I suspected it to be? Was she moaning? I was curious what she was up to and if my suspicions were correct. The wind and rain outside were more than enough to cover the sounds of my slow footsteps.

My mother is the prototypical church-mom. Very conservative. Very proper. Devout in every way imaginable. Proudly displays the cross around her neck at all times. She's obsessed with her standing in the community and being involved with all of the religious activities. You get the idea.

I peeked inside her room from the doorway to see my beautiful mom in the most vulnerable position I had ever seen of her. She was laying on her bed, face up, legs spread.

She was completely bare from the waist down. Her pants, pantyhose, and undergarments were scattered on the floor, but her buttoned-up top remained intact. Her hair and makeup were still neat, showing that she just arrived home not too long ago.

But it wasn't just her partial nudity which grabbed my undivided attention, but what she was doing to herself. Her milky white legs were spread wide open and two of her fingers were furiously going in and out of her hairy vagina. She was soaking wet down there, with her fluids brightly glistening along her brown labia and thick pubic hairs.

I was mesmerized by the sight of my once-thought-to-be sexless mother, masturbating herself with such intensity. I couldn't believe how aroused I was becoming just by watching her. I loved the sight of her clenching her eyes shut, which brought out the slight wrinkles on her face, as her mouth was open with her moans escaping. Her chest was moving up and down from her rapid heartbeats. Her legs were slowly moving and her feet were curled up and clenched tight. And of course her fingers; her fingers were still busy at work, taking turns rubbing her clit and fingering her dripping wet vagina.

Mom's pussy was a sight to behold. Despite how she presented herself in public, her pussy was drenched like a porn star's. I wondered what she was thinking about, or if she was usually this wet when she masturbated.

Her feet and toes started moving around even more, and her heart rate climbed even higher- she was reaching an orgasm. Her eyes opened in a flash, and that's when she caught me, lifting her head up to see her son watching her.

"Oh my god!!" she yelled at the top of her lungs, with her eyes wide open.

Out of panic, I rushed to my room as she covered herself with a blanket to spare herself any further humiliation.

But that wasn't the end of it, no matter how horrible both of us felt at that moment. She sloppily put her pants back on, still barefoot, and followed me to my room.

"Why aren't you in class?" she asked, fuming and fumbling for the right words to hurl at me. "You... you weren't supposed to see that!"

"It was an accident," I replied, trying to calm things down.

She crossed her arms. "And that makes it okay for you to spy on me?"

"I wasn't spying on you... I was headed to my room..."

"I know you were watching me," she hissed. "God, I can't believe this is happening. I don't know what came over me. I... I don't usually do that..."

The mood in the room suddenly became somber as my mother was now on the verge of tears. Her roots and upbringing had made her feel shame. Even at her age, she still preferred the old customs.

I tried my best to calm her down, telling her, "It's okay, mom. It's nothing to be embarrassed about. It's normal."

"No, it's not okay. You weren't supposed to see me like that. Just my luck, right? The one day I get to come home early, and this happens."

"It's normal," I repeated, with nothing else to offer.

She took a deep breath, "Please, forget about this. I don't want to talk about this ever again. And I don't want you to think any less of me. Understood?"

"I understand."

Our generational differences were perfectly highlighted. For a woman like her, masturbation was a grave sin. Something never to be done. And sex was something only to be had during marriage.

At the same time, my mother had just been on the urge of a massive, earth shattering orgasm from her own hand.

***

A professor of mine, Ms. Halper, was a trained psychologist who's an expert in sexuality and repression. She's a genius, but admittedly, it was always hard for me to concentrate in class because of how sexy she is.

During office hours to discuss my research paper, my professor finally asked why I had suddenly become so curious about the topic of repression. We had an informal teacher/student relationship because I've known her for many years, mainly from church, and our community is tightly knit.

She knew my mom well. They worked together on several church fundraisers and community events.

When I finally budged and told her everything - and I mean everything - she pried ever last detail out of me.

"Your own mother?" Ms. Halper chuckled.

I tensed. "My mother isn't that rigid."

"I didn't mean it in a bad way. Frankly, I'm not totally surprised either."

"You're not?"

Ms. Halper shook her head. "Public personas are often different from sexual desires or drive. She was raised in a certain way. I respect that."

"Yeah, that's true. You swear you'll never tell her, right? She'd kill me if she found out."

"Your secret is safe. Unless..."

My professor's voice trailed off and I saw a deviant little expression in her eyes. She was so beautiful that it was hard for me to read her intentions.

"Unless what?" I asked.

"Well, I'm working on a book about this sort of thing. Your mother would be a perfect case study, don't you think?"

I laughed. "She'd never go for it."

"Why not? Your mother has quite the sex drive, if your description of her vaginal activity is any indication."

"I've never heard my mother talk about sex before."

"Maybe I can get it out of her," my professor said confidently.

"You sound sure of yourself."

"I know women a lot better than you do." Ms. Halper gave a sly expression. "It's hard for me to explain, but let's just say that there's more to your mother. Trust me, I see her at church every week."

"I don't get it. What are you hinting at?"

"Call it a working theory ," she replied. "Nothing concrete, but I don't want to talk about it unless I'm certain, and, well, I think she'd be an amazing case study for my book."

"Whatever your theory is, she'll refuse and deny it."

"She doesn't have to know, at least not yet. I'll work my magic on her. Then I'll ask her if I can use the results for my book. Anonymously, of course."

"You're really confident in your abilities," I said.

"I know. And I'm also confident that your mother is what I suspect she is. Trust me, I know women really well. I can sense these things."

There was a sultry look on Ms. Halper's face. I was still confused by all this, though it did sound exciting.

"Whatever you do, leave my name out of it," I joked.

"For now, it'll be our private thing."

"Can you at least give me a hint?"

"Hypno-therapy," she replied, almost proudly. "I've been working firsthand with the people who've created this new treatment. I think your mother would be the ideal candidate for my first attempt at it. It could be a drastic change for your mother, but only with your permission first, of course."

I laughed, thinking it was doomed from the start. "Yeah, sure, why not?"

"Are you sure? Absolutely positive? I'd like to open her up sexually. Are you okay with that?"

The thought of my beautiful mother changing was an interesting thought. It seemed most unlikely, but the idea was interesting. At the very least, I'm sure mom would be happier, that is, if she was even interested at all.

"How sexual?" I asked.

"Depends on what's inside of your mother. One of my specialties is pushing a woman to her limit, in a good way. No, she won't go out and became a stripper or something. I would never do that to anyone. But I want to make her in touch with her inner-self. Would you be okay living with your mother if she was like that?"

Once again, I laughed it off. "Do whatever you want, but she might be really offended if you started asking her about these things."

"I have my ways," Ms. Halper said with a sly expression.

There was a vague tone in her voice. Ms. Halper knew what she was doing. She had the skills.

I tried wrapping my mind around all this, assuming it could actually happen. How would life change if my beautiful mother agreed to all this? I wondered.

***

Three months had passed. I never asked my professor about it again. I assumed nothing had happened. After all, it all seemed so crazy.

I knew my mother better than anyone else (or so I thought) and I knew that there was no way that anyone could ever get her to discuss sex, not even her closest friends. That just wasn't her style. It wasn't who she was. Mom's reputation and moral beliefs were everything to her.

But one day I came home early and saw my mother's car in the driveway again. It was the same scenario as before, when I had caught her masturbating. The house was quiet and there was no sign of mom in the living room. I made my way up the stairs, praying that mom wasn't masturbating again. The odds of the same thing happening again were slim, but you never know. The last thing anybody needed was another big blowup from an awkward encounter.

Almost out of nowhere, my mother stepped out of her bedroom, having just had a shower. She looked bright and happy. In fact, it seemed like she had a smile glued to her face. She also looked uncharacteristically casual for a woman with her level of class; wearing only a robe, standing barefoot, and her hair was a mess and she didn't have any makeup on as she usually does.

"You're home early," she said with a perky attitude.

"The teacher was sick. You seem like you're in a really upbeat mood today."

"I am, actually."

"Any good news?" I asked.

"Sure, your plan worked."

"My plan?"

Mom smiled, "The plan you've been working on."

Immediately, I started wondering what the heck was going on. What was the plan? And why was mom so thrilled with whatever it was?

"Care to fill me in?" I asked, tired of being the only one who was out of the loop.

She crossed her arms like she normally did and leaned against the wall, with the pleasant expression still on her face. Whatever the news was, it must have been great.

"It seems I've made a new friend these past few weeks. Someone you're obviously very familiar with. Care to take a guess?"

Mom raised an eyebrow in a taunting way.

I gulped. "Professor Halper?"

"Yes, that's right. She asked me to lunch a few times to discuss church activities, and each time we met, she slipped in a little something about her book. Pieces at a time. Before long, I found out about her little experiment."

"Are you mad?" I asked, unsure of what else to say.

"Mad? Not at all. I agreed to be part of it. She wanted to hypnotize me. Nothing serious. Just little things. I won't go into all the details, but she admitted that you were involved, and that you told her about what you saw. You know, with me in bed."

I gulped loudly. "Then what?"

"Let's just say I'm a new woman now," she said with a light-hearted grin. "I'm obviously disappointed that you told your professor what you saw, and that you conducted a little scheme. But frankly, she's a wizard in psychology. Her hypnosis has really changed my outlook on life."

"It has?"

"Yes, can you believe it?"

This felt like something out of the Twilight Zone. My mother seemed to be content with whatever they did. In fact, she was more than content. She seemed like a new person now, just like she said.

Maybe it was true about Ms. Halper's reputation; she's the best at what she does and she has a bunch of accolades in psychology for a reason.

I hesitantly asked, "So... are you still going to see her? What's going on now?"

"That part is none of your business, young man," she said, holding back a mischievous grin. "The nature of our relationship is private. She helps me now, and I'm a test case for her book."

So the plan worked after all. Something strange was definitely going on.

***

I emailed Ms. Halper that night, asking what the hell was going on, but phrased politely of course. Mom refused to tell me anything, saying it was all too personal, and each time she'd sport the brightest grin on her face.

The first response from my professor was cordial, but she cited doctor/patient privilege as a reason why this was a secret. It seemed like my professor was making a small joke.

I emailed back, respectfully stating that there was no privilege, that it was unfair to keep this from me.

Finally, Ms. Halper responded with what I've been looking for:

You're right. You deserve answers.

I had invited your mother to lunch a few times. She declined at first, citing her schedule. Then she had time and took my bait.

We talked about church duties, teachings, doctrines, and events for the community. That hooked her in for future meetings.

Ever wonder why your mother doesn't date much? My suspicion was confirmed. Your mother enjoys the company of women. Yes, you read that correctly. It's her preference, as I had suspected all along.

We talked and emailed a lot, and slowly I was able to penetrate the inner-workings of her mind. That's when I told her everything. I told her about our conversation, that you caught her masturbating. I told her about my analysis. I correctly assessed many things about her and she was impressed.

When I told her that I was certain she found me attractive, she was at a complete loss for words. It was like I cracked a hidden code.

From there I explained a new hypno-therapy treatment. I explained my book and so forth.

Long story short, your mother is in very good hands. If you notice any improvements, that's my doing. If anything goes wrong, let me know. You'll be seeing some big changes out of your mother. It's all for the best.

Fair bit of warning: Much of my work with your mother is sexual in nature. Yes, you read that correctly. Whatever impressions you have in your mind, it's likely true. Again, it's for the best.

I hope you're okay with this.

x Your Professor

p.s. Friendly reminder, the term paper is due next week.

After reading the email, I sat there stunned. It all made sense. Between mom's cavalier attitude and her newfound persona, this was all the work of my psychology professor.

What they were secretly doing was obvious.

Just thinking about it made me aroused.

*

The next morning. Mom left home early and texted me that she'd be coming home late.

Sure enough, she didn't come home until around 6 pm that night, carrying a take-out dinner in one hand, and a shopping bag in the other.

A lot was different about her. Her hair looked unkempt and much of her lipstick looked washed off. Her clothes looked slightly disheveled as well, with her blouse untucked and her top button undone. But most of all, she had that same sparkle in her eyes which I remember so vividly.

This was most unusual because my mother always did her best to have an immaculate appearance.

"Did you see Ms. Halper today?" I asked cautiously, wondering how mom would react.

"I did. She told me that you emailed her last night. I'm sorry, I should have been upfront with you. You should have heard it from me directly."

Mom didn't seem embarrassed at all. Was Ms. Halper exaggerating, or did I misjudge what was going on?

"Oh, well, what did both of you do together?" I asked.

She had a sly look on her face and held up two fingers. "That many times."

A smile lingered on her face as she waved and curled her two fingers.

"What does that mean?" I asked. "Two? Two what?"

"Take a guess. She explained everything to you in the email."

"Hmmm... it's better if you just tell me. I don't want to guess wrong."

Mom spoke mischievously in a low whisper. "Your professor gave me two massive orgasms."

I was shocked beyond words. Mom was a changed woman with this hypno-therapy. Not only was mom open about having sexual activities with my teacher, but she was actually admitting this to me! I felt my cock stirring inside my shorts.

"Sounds like an interesting therapy session," I gulped deeply.

"It was. Just how much did Professor Halper tell you about our sessions?"

"Not much. Just that you two were doing stuff. A lot of stuff, apparently."

Mom pursed her lips, then smiled. "Professor Halper invited two of her female interns to assist with everything. So it was sort of like a group thing. The rest is history."

The naughty smile lingered on mom's face. A group thing? Amongst women? No wonder she was in such a good mood. And did mom really prefer women?

"Okay, now I know you're just joking. Very funny, mom."

She put the food on the counter and the shopping bag on the floor and began unbuttoning her pants. She then put her hand inside her panties and inserted her fingers inside herself. When she took her hand out, two of her fingers were drenched in fluids.

"Now do you believe me?" she asked with a grin, showing me her wet fingers.

It was official. My mother was a changed woman. And we were now open to discussing her sexual activities. I wondered if I should ask about it slowly or just dive right in. But given mom's ease showing me her wet fingers, I figured it was okay to be direct.

"So, umm, you obviously enjoyed it," I said very carefully, hoping she wouldn't slap me.

"It made me feel like a woman," she replied with a deviant smile. "All those years of denying myself left me pent up inside. It was a big release today. I'll be seeing her more often to complete the work."

"There's more work to be done?"

She reached inside the shopping bag and pulled out an array of sexy undergarments, holding them up for display.

"These are for the next session," mom said in a matter-of-fact way. "I'll visit her office with this underneath my clothes. The interns will be there too."

My mind was swirling with all sorts of ridiculously taboo and wildly inappropriate thoughts of my own mother.

"I shouldn't be telling you this..." I started off, before pausing. "But this has really gotten me... ummm... nevermind."

Mom laughed. "Yes, I kind of expected that. Ms. Halper even theorized this about you."

"Huh?"

Now it seemed as though Ms. Halper was pitting me against my mother, in some strange sexual way.

"She suspects that you have some sort of incest fantasy," mom said casually. "For me of all people! Can you believe it?"

I gasped, shocked as hell. "What?! No way."

"Look, it's okay if you do. I've seen the way you looked at me when I was, you know, in my bed doing that wonderful thing to myself. It's okay if you have desires about me."

"Now what?" I asked, refusing to deny that I had the hots for my mother.

"Ms. Halper suggested a rather unorthodox way to continue my treatment. Something that will benefit all of us."

"I'm open to hearing it."

Mom took a deep breath. "It's something that would completely ruin my life if our family or the church community ever found out."