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Of what happened, I can confess that I didn’t plan any of it. I let myself be dragged in by the whole idea, the concept and eventually after all the nervous moments of guilt, of questioning had passed, I came to relax and even become happy.
My name is Sam, I left University a year ago to work for a call centre dealing with Insurance claims. This is not the most exciting job in the world. And it was certainly not the route I had expected to take. My fair hair and pleasant face had got me so far with the girls at uni, I’d even maintained a steady relationship for a year. However, as I graduated all this slowly left me. I had a group of friends I could keep in contact with by e-mail and I moved back home.
Home. When I moved back it was the same place I had always known, just my mother and me. I’d never known my father, he’d left as soon as I was announced. Which on the whole was a pretty shitty thing to have done. My Mom survived with a lot of help from family and friends. Though we’d always lived to gether Mom had refused to give up on her independance, I’d known boyfriends come and go, but still we stuck together. Home was supposed to be a temporary arrangement, I really needed to move out on my own and get my act together, something I pointed out to Mom regularly put she didn’t seem to pay much attention. She continued to work at the local college and she was always home when I got back from work.
I didn’t get to go out much in the evenings. A lot of my friends from home had moved away and I had a crippling student debt that I wanted shot of. Thus I spent a lot of my time reading, watching TV and films or just in my room listening to music. I was becoming a little isolated, something my mother had recognised and she’d started to ask if I was alright. I always told her yes, but she knew that inside my head the escape plan was forming. One day, late September, the escape plan began to change.
It was an area meeting. Regional boss comes in assesses your performance. My colleagues and I were ushered into the meeting room and we all took seats at the table. At the head of it was an immaculetly turned out woman with tied back red hair and business suit. The suit comprised of a jacket and short skirt. I couldn’t help myself, I immediately looked at her legs. They were long, graceful with a shine to them from her tights (possibly stockings, my mind was racing) all thought about getting assessed had gone out the window. As she read out her report the feeling in my cock grew and grew. I’d always sub-conciously looked at women’s legs but while at Uni, I’d done my best to concentrate on their personalities, what they had to say – it meant getting further with a girl quicker. Yet, as I snatched quick glances at those wonderful legs, with her black sling-back heels on, I realised I’d awakened something in me. By the time we came to the comfort break I was rock solid. I couldn’t have left that table if I tried! I needed to do something and fast.
The meeting had been some sort of delicious torture at every stage I wanted to run out of the room and wank myself off, but I couldn’t stop staring at her legs. When the meeting had finished it was time to leave, I had a plan. Get off the bus, get to the newsagents and get a magazine, anything would do, then finish off in the privacy of my own room. As I travelled back I thought kneeling at those legs, looking up, running my tongue all along them, my hard-on refused to dissapate. I got off the bus and awkwardly managed to run down to the shop.
It was shut. It was bloody shut!
I almost screamed aloud, I was still frustrated and all there was left to do would be to go home. Mom was in the kitchen as I stumbled in. She asked the usual questions about my day, but I wasn’t listening. I went straight upstairs, dumped my coat in my room and looked around. I need something and had dumped all my porno mags when I’d left Uni. Think, I told myself, think! There was a pile of women’s magazines in Mom’s room, there was bound to be something in there, a picture of a model, anything. Checking she was still downstairs, I moved across the landing to my Mom’s room and went in. Next to the double bed was a pile of women’s mags.I quickly rifled through the top couple looking for anything and picked up one with a promising article about stockings. In my rush I pulled it off the pile and realised something had fallen out. Not wishing to leave evidence of my actions I went down to pick up what I assumed was some promo junk, I stopped. There were three polaroids on the floor. Putting the magazine back on the pile I picked up the photos.
I gasped. It was Mom.
She was sat on the sofa we used to have in the living room, wearing a pink bikini top and briefs, with a pair of dainty open-toed pink high heels on. She had her legs crossed and was smiling. The second was the same with her legs crossed the other way. I gasped again at the third, she was topless, still smiling. I froze just for a second, my brain screaming at me to return the güvenilir bahis photos to the magazine. Sadly, in these situations, the brain rarely wins. I grabbed all three and ran back to my room, shutting the door behind me. I scambled on to the bed, laying all the photos in front of me. I stuggled with my trouser flies and manage to free my cock, grabbing it with my hand I looked at the photos again. This was my mother. Short back bob, around 5′ 10″ with average size tits and fantastic legs. This was not the Mom I knew from wearing trousers or jeans and big jumpers. It seemed like a totally different woman. I think what was how I rationalised afterwards, she was totally different to the Mom I knew. One that posed like this for a boyfriend, posing like this now for me. My fist was wrapped around my cock, pumping hard, it took only seconds to cum. It shot across the bed, some of it landing on the wall some on the photos. As I leaned back, slowly wanking out the last drops of liquid, I looked at the pics through my bleary eyes. What had I done? It was only the dinner call that brought me round.
As I lay in bed that night, Mom had noticed something was different about me. I had watched her through most of dinner, again she asked if I was alright and I replied that I was, but she wasn’t buying it. She asked me if I was still thinking about moving out. I said yes. This time there was little to disguise her disappointment. I wanted to comfort her, I really did, but this was insane. I’d just masturbated over my own mother. Over those pictures. Those photos that were still in the drawer, I hadn’t even bothered to return them to Mom’s room. I needed to get out.
I spent the day in work in a trance, I took calls, I filed reports, but I was thinking about what I’d done. It was completely nuts. I had to get out, had to find somewhere else to live.
That night at dinner I could tell Mom was looking at me oddly again and once more I raised the point of me leaving.
“But I’ll be so alone,” she protested. I told she wouldn’t be, she still had all her friends, I mean God they came round for dinner enough and she needed to understand that I had to be me. She finished the conversation by asking me if there was any way she could persuade me to stay. I told her it wasn’t a very fair question, all birds leave the nest sometime, right? She acceeded the point and dinner continued.
But the photos still lay in my drawer, piled carefully under a magazine. I sat there in my bed thinking about them. My hands resting above the duvet, the images played in my mind. Was she winking at me? Could I be sure? I had to check. All excuses, I know this now. I fumbled with the drawer and the magazine and the photos came out. Holding each one in turn up to the light, I let go. I pictured myself kneeling there, kissing her toes through her pink shoes and working my way upwards, planting my lips as I moved across her legs, her sweet encouragement, the fingers in my hair coaxing me towards her pussy, the wonderful smell as my face went between her thighs, her warmth and wetness…
I shot my load across the bedspread groaning out. As my breathing became shallower I began to fall asleep, the photos still in my hand.
This continued for a week, I was rapidly running out of month to move by and could see myself staying at home for October too. It would be OK, I told myself, it would be fine. By now I’d managed to buy other magazines in order to try and get over those pictures, but it just wasn’t real enough… Night after night, I’d go back to the polaroids. I knew I was in trouble when I went looking for other photos too, but with no luck. I then thought about spying on Mom. I was too shocked with my own thought to continue and went back to looking at the rental property pages.
After another week of fruitless searching I came home and trumped upstairs to my bedroom as usual. As I entered I stopped. The drawer, the drawer with the photos in was open. Closing the door I went over and investigated. The photos were still there. I breathed a sigh of relief. A couple of lads mags were jammed over the top. Maybe Mom had tidied them away? I couldn’t remember if I’d left them out. Maybe she’d decided to have a look at the magazines herself… and maybe she’d seen the photos. I rearranged the drawer as it should be and hurridly got changed. Prepare for the worst, I told myself, she could go ballistic at dinner. I tentatively made my way downstairs.
A smile greeted me as I poked my head into the kitchen. She was making pasta.
“Alright?” she asked.
“Err, yes,” came my reply.
I was told to sit at the table. This I did, still apprehensive, but when she came in with the food and we ate everything was fine. My mind was put at ease, at least until I got up to leave.
“Sam… you are OK, aren’t you?” she asked.
“Just making sure. If there’s anything you want to talk to me about you know you can.”
At the moment I felt her hand on my hand. She türkçe bahis smiled at me again.
I moved my hand away and got up to clear the dishes. As I walked out the kitchen I was shaking slightly. Maybe she had seen the photos, maybe she was just wary of the girlie magazines, maybe she was asking if I was OK because I was shaking! As I bent down to open the dishwasher I realised, with some discomfort, that I had an erection. I took several deep breaths standing close to the kitchen unit as Mom entered with the rest of the tableware. I felt her fingers gently stroke the back of my head and then she kissed me quickly on the cheek, before leaving again. I stood still, waiting for my cock to die down for two whole minutes.
From this point onwards things took an interesting turn. Two days later on Saturday I’d stayed in bed watching cartoons for most of the morning and was thinking about something more productive when I heard Mom’s voice from over the landing. I got up, carefully adjusting my boxers to prevent myself from slipping out and went around to her bedroom. She was stood in front of the full length mirror by her bed wearing a navy blue skirt with a white blouse. I was stunned, this was one of the first times I had seen my Mom’s legs since finding the photos. The skirt ended just above the knee and she was wearing nylons of some sort. My mouth went dry.
“What do you think of my new skirt?” she asked. It took me a second to answer.
“It’s very nice…” I replied and it was. It hung off her hips and was just tight enough show a little of her arse.
“I bought it yesterday.”
“Is it for anything special?” I asked, assuming she might be going out.
“Oh no, just for me.”
“Oh, well it’s… nice.”
“Is that all you can say?” she said smiling. Mom turned away from the mirror and went to other side of the bed. “Now I’m going to need your help, Sam. Sit on the chair.” I planted myself on the dresser chair and watched as she brought up two shoe boxes. She came around to the other side of the bed directly opposite me and sat down. “I bought two pairs of shoes today too, but I can’t decide which to wear, maybe you can choose?” Mom opened the first box and pulled out a navy blue pair of pumps, they must have had about a three-inch heel. “These matched the skirt,” she explained and pulled one of them onto her foot. By now I was painfull aware of the growing hardness in my boxer shorts. She put on the second one and stood up, putting her hands on her hips.
“Well?” she asked.
This time the pause before I spoke was more obvious. My eyes travelled up from her shoes, past her legs and chest to her face. “They… suit you,” was the best I could manage.
“You think?” she walked up and down once keeping her eyes on me, I on the other hand didn’t know where to look. In a smooth, swift movement she sat back down and crossed her legs. I fought hard to supress a moan as her skirt rode up to show more of her thigh. She flexed and turned her ankle looking at the shoe. “I’m not sure… they’ll probably do for round-the-house…”
Round-the-house? To wear at home? What was this?
“You see I bought this other pair too, open the box will you?” Hesitating and then realising she was waiting for me I picked up the box. Mom then took her other shoes off. Opening it I found a pair of shiny black pointed stilettos, this time with a four inch heel. I looked back at her. “Come on, do the Prince Charming bit.”
I took the first shoe out of the box to see my Mom had extended her leg and was holding it pointed straight, the toes inches from the rather obvious bulge in my boxers. Her toenails were painted a soft pink beneath the nylon. She flexed her toes. I bit my lip and proceeded to slide the shoe onto her foot. Once it was on she placed her foot on the ground and extended the other. This time it was even closer to my covered cock. I fumbled with the second shoe slightly but put it on all the same.
“Mmm”, she flexed and twisted her foot with the shoe in. Then she stood again and resumed walking up and down. I could swear she was wriggling her arse, just a touch. I was now sat on my hands, I couldn’t have taken them out, lest they went for my cock. “These are more for a party outfit, I think,” she continued, walking over to the pile of women’s magazines in her room. “More dificult to bend over in…” My heart skipped a beat. Gingerly she lent forward and I had a magnificent view of her arse, the skirt went higher- she was wearing stockings! I gulped, as she paused for a second, then picked up a magazine. Then just as slowly, she put it back. She walked back around to me, I swear I was a beetroot colour.
“No, I think the blue ones for today.” She sat down again and removed the stilettos, looked up at me and said “Don’t you have to wash the car today?”
“I, erm… yes.” I remembered I did have to do that today.
“Good! Well I’ll see you downstairs.”
I paused. Still not knowing really where I güvenilir bahis siteleri was or what was going on. Suddenly I snapped back into reality and quickly turned out of the room. I went almost straight to the bathroom and turned the shower on. I was wanking before I’d even got in the shower. What was that? What did she just do to me? What the bloody hell just happened?
I washed the car in a daze, occasionally stealing glances up towards the living room window, there was my Mom dressed in the skirt and 3-inch Navy heels hoovering. I had to stop my self from staring. The hose and water were going everywhere. I got soaked. Once I’d finished I dropped the bucket and went around back to the kitchen door. On going inside Mom came through and looked me up and down.
“You’re all wet,” was her extremely perceptive remark. “Well, you’d better put a fresh t-shirt on, come on I’ll wash that one.” I double-took.
“Take off your t-shirt! I’ll put in the washer.”
Pausing for a second I got my act together and pulled off my t-shirt. I threw it to her and she held it up.
“You are a mucky pup, aren’t you?” And with that, instead of crouching down to the washing machine, she bent over right in front of me. Once again her skirt rode up and I caught a glimpse of her stocking tops and suspender belt. I stood mouth open looking at her long legs. She straighted up and turned to me. “Well put the kettle on then.” And with that my Mom squeezed past me and walked back down the hall, definitely wiggling her arse this time.
After I changed, I decided to see if I could keep watching my mother. This would be make or break, I mean I don’t usually sit about the house watching her clean. I took her the cup of tea in the living room and put the TV on. Despite having vacuumed the room Mom came back in this time with a feather duster. This wasn’t unusual you sometimes found the odd cobweb on top of the curtains. Mom started to clean the curtains, standing on tip toes to reach the top. As I sipped my tea I saw her stretching. Her back arched slightly and her blouse came untucked from her skirt. She didn’t bother to tuck it back, but she kept on stretching. I watched her for two or three minutes before she turned her attention to the other side of the room. She walked past me she playfully tickled the duster under my chin. I giggled. She leaned forward and tickled me again. This time I noticed her blouse once more. One of the top buttons had come undone, or she’d undone it. I saw her down her front. A silky silver bra cupped her two breasts, they were bulging out as she leaned forward.
I turned my head away and this time she giggled and walked over to the other side of the room. My tea went cold as I left the room.
This time I had all of Mom’s pictures laid out on the bed in front of me. My strokes were long and powerful, my cock smeared in baby oil, I needed to feel like I was fucking her. Fucking that gorgeous, pouting cunt… I lost control and cum sprayed fast and loose over the duvet, over the photos. Jesus, I wanted her. This was bad, so, so very bad…
I got out of the house on Sunday. I had too I was going insane. I rode over to the park, went to the pub. Anything to take my mind off my mother. It was, of course no good. I got home late, drunkenly pushing my bike indoors. Mercifully she’d gone to bed. I started to relax a bit more and went into the kitchen to make a sandwich. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed the pile of washing by the machine. On top of the pile was the pink bikini I’d seen in Mom’s pictures! My heart began to pound. Coincidence? Unlikely… The way she was acting and dressing around me this was no accident. Reaching down I slowly picked up the bikini briefs. I put them to my face and inhaled. The smell of her. I reached for the fly of my jeans and took out my throbbing cock. I wrapped the briefs around my cock and began to wank. No- I had to be sure, before I did this. Throwing the briefs back on the washing, I leaned back against the kitchen worktop. Tomorrow I would come home and early check…
My reasoning was this: If Mom was doing this for me, deliberately driving me crazy, then the change in her behaviour would be marked. Sure enough, when I got home early and waited upstairs, the answer came to me. Mom’s car pulled into the driveway and out she got. So far so normal. Trainers, jeans and a fleece top. I shrugged she was definitely dressing normally here. The front door opened and she picked up the post. I stood in my room silent waiting for her next move. She dumped her bag in the kitchen and then proceeded upstairs. I heard her enter her room. Should I wait for her to come out or go take a peek? My curiosity got the better of me and I crept out of my room and along the landing to her room. The door was ajar! I took a deep breath and looked. There was my mother, one graceful leg streched out as she put on a stocking. She was topless. Her naked breasts, as beautiful as I’d ever known were open to me. My eyes went wide open as she playfully pinched a nipple and gasped. She put on her other stocking, attaching the suspender belt and stood up. She put on her skirt and this time selected a tight, low-cut crop top, no bra! She’d be coming out any second!
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