Crossword Puzzles

"Five down. Keeps your money. Something, something, n, something, e r..."

I looked up from my book.

"Wanker."

Mum burst out laughing, her head bobbing up and down in my lap. It was one of those uncontrollable things where choking, or snot coming out of your nose, or an unexpected fart could have been the unfortunate result. As it was, she managed to cover her mouth while her laughter continued and tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Oh dear...pass me one of those tissues off the table, would you...?"

I held onto her soft waist with one hand and stretched round the end of the sofa to grab a handful of paper tissues.

She wiped her eyes while returning to look at the crossword puzzle in the newspaper folded in front of her.

"Haha. Oh. Well if that's right, then five across, famous outlaw, is 'willythekid'..."

"Sounds about right to me..."

"Alright then, clever git, let's see how good you really are. Mmmm, here we go then. Seventeen down. No letters yet, nine letters - 'mutual satisfaction'.

"...Yesssssss...!!"

Mum's laughter this time was a cackle. This time snot really did erupt from her nose and she did let out a short fart while grasping hold of her stomach.

I took the newspaper off her and wafted the air around us before rolling her gently off my lap and onto the carpet.

I looked down at her, sprawled there, clasping her stomach and laughing, not heeding the fact that her black pleated skirt had ridden up to give me a great view of a wide expanse of thigh and almost, but not quite, her knickers.

"More tissues, Gary..."

I duly obliged and then sat back, patting my lap and stretching out a hand to invite her back up. She grabbed hold, and as she lifted herself up I took the opportunity to glimpse down and into the cleavage of the red blouse which hung away from her body as she leant forward. Her gorgeous heavy breasts were nestled loosely in a frilly white lace hammock and I could see through the gap between them down to the tight elastic clasping the weight to her chest.

Suddenly my invitation, to return her head to where it had been resting just a few moments before, didn't seem such a wise move. As she stretched out onto the sofa and lowered her head back into my lap, she brought one hand round to the nape of her neck to keep her shoulder-length auburn hair in place. As she smoothed her hand across, her knuckles brushed over the hillock of my semi hard-on. She didn't react, but pressed her head firmly back down as though to test its bounciness, and even moved it from side to side to get comfortable. She winked up at me.

Just at that moment, Dad came back in from the kitchen after preparing himself a half-time sandwich and a cup of coffee. He wasn't a happy soul. Well, I mean, would you be, if you supported Newcastle? The match was being broadcast live and they were already finding themselves two-nil down, so now he was steeling himself for another forty-five minutes of unmitigated torture. They were playing away. If it had been a home match, he'd now be over at St. James' Park, sobbing with the best of them. He settled, muttering to himself, down into his armchair opposite the television. It's no life being a Newcastle supporter...

Mum returned her gaze to the crossword and I returned to my book, willing my dick to think of other things besides the fact that if Mum were to turn her head slightly, she could begin to nibble at it... oh God, I was making it worse...

Because my face was hidden from her by my book, Mum couldn't see that I was free to roam my eyes over her whole, albeit clothed, body as it stretched out along the length of the sofa. I gazed at the sliver of pale skin that was exposed because of the undone button where her blouse tucked into the band of her skirt; the skirt fell around her waist and dipped over her pubic mound and down into the crevice between her slightly open legs. It stopped at just above her knee, and then her long, long legs continued down to her bare crimson-painted toes...

I was nudged back to reality by Mum tapping her pen on my book. I put it to one side. She was smiling and pointing to the puzzle with her pen. She'd filled in a new line - 'Roman god'. Four letters. She'd written 'Gary'. I raised an eyebrow, returned the smile and took the puzzle off her. I quickly scanned the clues and filled in an answer. I handed the paper back to her. She looked at it and a broad smile crossed her face. Seven across. 'Goddess of love beauty and sexuality'. Nine letters... mmm, Aphrodite? No. I wrote in 'mymumanne'.

Mum grinned, seemed to bite her bottom lip and mouthed a 'thank you'. She then brought one finger to her lips, kissed it and brought it up to my mouth. I didn't kiss it. I licked it. That was it, we were now playing a secret game, just the two of us. Dad wasn't included. Anne returned her finger to just in front of her own mouth, looked up at me, stuck out her tongue and licked around the tip too. I let out a short gasp, but managed to break the hypnotic spell she was casting over me, grabbed back the pen and paper and entered a few more letters. The letters broke out of the crossword frame altogether. I hadn't filled in a new clue. Onto 'yesssssss' I'd added 'ssssSSSSS!!'.

She was giggling silently. She raised her knees so the paper was now resting against the tops of her thighs. As she'd lifted them, her skirt had dropped back towards her waist. If it weren't for the newspaper I'd now be staring full-on at her panties. As it was, at the side of her skirt I could just detect a tidbit of white frilly lace. My semi hard-on was now a full-blown rager. Mum nudged it with her cheek and looked me straight in the eyes. The tip of her tongue licked around her lips. She wrote down, 'uteezer' in a random space.

I bent my head, took the pen, found another space and wrote 'cuzovu'.

She smiled. In another space I filled in 'btw' and waited for her reaction.

She read it and looked at me quizzically.

I looked for a nine-letter space, wrote into it and regarded her with my own smirk.

She read, 'icurbelli'

Again she looked puzzled, but then realization dawned and she looked down to see her own navel on full display through the gap where her blouse was unbuttoned. It was her turn to raise an eyebrow.

She wrote.

I read, Fourteen down: 'uvoyeuru'

I turned the paper round to my side, added my bit and turned it back to her. This time she had trouble keeping it in and I had to hold her tightly until her laughter subsided. I'd drawn bold circles around the 'yessssSSS!!...'

I glanced over towards Dad. He was engrossed in his team's Waterloo. If he'd glanced across at us, he would have only seen the arm of the sofa, the top of Mum's head and the folded newspaper resting on her knees. Mum also did her best to look over towards him, but without moving her head, could only swivel her eyes round. She looked back at me. I did a small shake of my head. No, he couldn't see. Mum reached down and undid the second button at the bottom of her blouse and parted it even more. She looked up at me and nodded almost imperceptibly, then lowered her legs, opened the pages of the newspaper fully and, idly, as though short-sighted, began to scan the headlines, hiding her face from me and the rest of her body from Dad...

Revealed in front of me now lay this curvaceous body with its clothes in mild disarray. I'd been given permission and was completely free to let my eyes wander and linger over any part I wanted. Her blouse was open from waist to mid-chest and her skirt had stayed where it was after she'd straightened her legs. Her pussy mound was on full view through the semi-opaque material of her lacy panties. Short dark hairs protruded through the holes left by the flowered pattern embellishing them. My dick gave an involuntary jerk and Mum squeezed her cheek up against it.

This was it. I took a deep breath and reached out my hand and placed my palm, fingers splayed, gently down onto her belly. I rested it there for a few moments while it rose and fell serenely with her breathing. I crooked my fingertips and felt the buoyancy of her smooth flesh. I made small circular motions around her navel, my fingertips barely grazing the skin, provoking a tremble throughout her frame. They brushed lightly against her waistband at the bottom of the circle and just under the next fastened button of her blouse at the top.

Mum let the newspaper half fall forward and, out loud, asked, "So how's your book, Gary?"

I looked at her blankly.

"Your book, is it interesting?" Her eyes swiveled urgently back and forth to where I'd placed my book on the arm of the sofa.

I suddenly caught her drift and reached across to retrieve it while Mum glanced innocently up at the ceiling, a faint smile at the corners of her mouth.

"Oh yeah, it's great... you wouldn't like it though - all blood 'n guts..."

"Yuk."

"No sensuous kissing, no heat of passion, no throbbing members...membership..."

"Ah well..."

My one hand now held the book open, my other returned to Mum's belly and Mum herself returned to examining the newspaper in detail.

Softly, she said to me, "Pity this is only a five minute newspaper."

What was it with me? Was I so slow on the uptake? Because a moment later one of her hands crawled below the paper, grabbed hold of my one caressing her belly and pulled it up to rest upon her breast. She moved the paper away from her face and raised both eyebrows towards me. I lifted my hand away from her breast and a flicker of...surprise?... disappointment?... crossed her face. But when I reached down and undid the next button up, and then the next, she returned to the printed word. Her blouse was now only being held together at the top. I parted the sides of it and gazed down in rapt delight at the two patterned mounds jutting upwards. I smoothed my hand over the one and then over the other. The darker flesh indicating the border of the areolas was peeking over the rippled top edges of her bra. I delved underneath the tight band of elastic, lifted my hand at the wrist and brought my fingers down to embrace the whole of her breast. I grasped her aroused nipple between my index and middle finger, and started to softly manipulate it, while my other fingers and thumb kneaded around the rest of her mound. Mum wriggled the top of her body and...

"Just what the hell do you think you're playing at?!??" My dad's enraged voice.

Mum jerked herself upright, snapping the flaps of her blouse tightly together and fastening it while I tugged the hem of her skirt quickly back down to its respectable position by her knees. Both our hearts stopped.

"Didn't they teach you anything about defending, you wimp? Oh, for fuck's sake...!!"

Apparently Newcastle were about to go three down. Mum sighed.

"Jack, could you keep your voice down a bit? You just scared the living daylights out of us...we're trying to read over here..."

"Oh, sorry love, sorry Gazz, but that pillock couldn't defend a nun from a bishop... you watch, we'll sell him in the next window, mark my words..."

Mum turned and looked at me. And she grinned...and brought her head back down to my lap.

"Oof, this isn't as comfortable any more. Do you think we could make a little adjustment?"

She turned her face towards me, brought her far hand across, grabbed hold of my zip and yanked it fully down in one smooth motion.

"Maybe that'll do..." She swiveled her head to peek at the bulge jutting from my open fly.

"Nope. Still not right. A bit more..." And her hand delved into my pants, into the waistband of my boxers and fished my erect dick out from its nest. With it firmly in her hand she gazed at it in obvious appreciation.. My own gaze was equally held by this fantastic sight of my own mother openly grasping the circumference of my cock along its length and looking lovingly at my dickhead, already dampening around its tip. She glanced up at me, smiling, as her opening mouth inched its way forward. I realized in that fraction of a second that if dad were only to turn in his chair he could probably see what was happening. So I reached across for the newspaper, turned in his direction and leant over the arm of the sofa. At the same time I opened the newspaper to the centre pages. This action hid Dad's view of us and at the same time pushed my dick forwards towards Mum's waiting mouth.

"There was something I wanted to see in here...now, umm, where was it? Someone told me U2's got a gig coming up sometime at St. James'..."

"Better be when the season's over then," muttered Dad, "Don't want that bunch of arseholes carving up the pitch..."

So he could still hear us then. Maybe there was a lull, or the ball had gone out for a goal-kick or something. But he never took his gaze away from the TV. Besides, I was barely listening to him because Mum's mouth now had my cock firmly buried inside it up to the hilt. She was looking up at me as she let it slither out again, wet with her saliva. Then in it went again, this time at an angle, and Mum's cheek bulged with the shape of my cockhead. In, out, in, out, her cheek expanded and deflated like a bellows. All the while her tongue was engaged in feverish activity swirling around my knob-end. Oh jeez, I was going to cum any second now...

Mum took my dick fully out of her mouth and licked around the bulbous end, keeping her eyes on me all the time. Was that an evil glint in them? My face must have been a complete mixture of terror and ecstasy because at that moment I felt the familiar surge begin to erupt. But Mum, with lightning reflexes, jabbed her open mouth back onto my dick and I came and came and gushed straight into the back of her throat. She was managing to swallow most of it, but as my cum was emptying down her gullet, I was refilling her mouth at about the same rate. Eventually it seeped out around the sides and dribbled down onto her chin. When she was satisfied I'd emptied everything into her, she lazily let it swim out through her lips, leaving a white string of cum behind it. There was jizz hanging from her bottom lip as well as her chin and, as though I didn't already know it, she opened her mouth wide to show me the white pool being swirled around inside by her tongue. She then swallowed it.

She grinned the biggest of grins. For my part I made nervous glances towards Dad. Suddenly, Mum brought one hand up to her mouth,

"A...a...ah...tschoo...!!"

"Gesundheit."

"Bless you."

"Thanks. Oh, hand me another couple of tissues from over there could you, Gazz?"

I smiled at her deception.

"Sure. Anything for you, Mum."

And I really did mean that. I handed her the tissues and she first wiped around her mouth, teasingly lapping at a gob of cum which was hanging just out of reach at the corner of her cheek. I reached across with my finger, scooped it up, held it out to her and she sucked it off me and into her mouth. She made one last swipe across her face and looked up at me enquiringly. I made a small nod that she was now clean, and she took out another tissue and set to work on my knob. She looked like she was diligently polishing shoes, humming along as she went; with the tissue in both hands she worked her way from this side to that side down to the tip and then underneath to repeat the same action. I think she was aided in this by the fact that all this rubbing served to resurrect my limp dick, and by the time she'd finished, it was again bouncing jauntily in front of her face. But time was not on our side. I glanced over at the TV and saw the match clock was already on 87:42 and ticking.

"Ah shit, I've had enough of this..." growled Dad

No, no...please don't get up!

"I don't know why I let myself in for this bunch o' pansies every week. If I was manager I'd sack the lot of 'em and bring in my old schoolmates. Now they were what you could call a team, they could wipe the floor..."

His monologue continued but he didn't get up. He wasn't one of those supporters who left the ground ten minutes before the final whistle in order to beat the crowd, he was a real trouper and he was staying up to the bitter end.

Meanwhile, Mum was calmly trying to wedge my cock back into its lair, but was having a few problems due to its rigidity and, I'm proud to say, its length, and the relatively small opening offered by my fly. As the seconds ticked by, I saw she was getting more and more frustrated and there was a real danger she would end up trying to bend it out of shape, or even worse, snap it, in order to get it back in. I saw her turn her hand into a fist and I jerked upright. Was she actually going to try and punch it back in??

"No, don't!!", and at the same moment an instinct for self-preservation made me cover my dick with the more than slightly ridiculous protection offered me by the newspaper.

Dad sat up and swiveled his head round towards us, startled.

"What's up with you?"

"Huh, it's cramp. Dammit, I'm getting cramp. Mum's giving me a dead-leg the way she's lying on me..."

"You're right. Come on Annie, give the boy a bit of space can't you? You're smothering him, poor lad."

"Yeah, Mum, come on, give me a break, move over..."

Mum did so with a bemused look on her face. As she did, the sodden tissues fell away and onto the floor.

Dad got up from his armchair. Game over. He turned towards us and looked down.

"Wow, that's some coughs and sniffles you've got there. Just don't breathe over me, alright? I don't want to catch it..."

With that he picked up his plate and coffee cup and sauntered off into the kitchen.

Mum's eyes followed him until he was out of the room. Then she looked at me, raised the newspaper from my lap, bent over, kissed the tip of my dick and replaced the paper before following Dad out to the kitchen. Just before she left the room, she said over her shoulder,

"Oh, by the way, it's upside-down..."

"What is?"

"The newspaper..."

Rather foolishly in retrospect, because of course there was no one else left in the room, I looked down into my lap, realized she was right and swiveled it to right side-up.

-------------------------------------

Mum prepared us all something to eat later, though only something light because, after all, it was Saturday and we'd each of us got places to go later. I was off to meet a few friends from the university over at a dance venue close to one of the halls of residence, while Mum and Dad were off to what Anne called the post-mortem for Newcastle with some of Dad's mates down at the pub. She said the club had died and been resurrected so many times that they ought to make a zombie movie out of it. As a neutral, I thought that was quite funny.

But there was an avoidance of eye contact, at least on Mum's part, as if there was a realization that we'd gone a bit - a bit?? - too far earlier and maybe needed to back up. But I wanted to give her some kind of reassurance. While she was washing a couple of pots over at the sink, I leant across with my own empty coffee cup and whispered, "Seven across."

She said nothing, but washed my cup, put it to drain, wiped her hands, went through to the other room and picked up the paper. Aha. 'Goddess of love beauty and sexuality.' My mum, Anne.

She put the paper down and walked back past me with barely a flicker of recognition. Under her breath she said, "Fourteen down."

She was playing me at my own game. I strolled over to the paper to remind me what fourteen down was. 'uvoyeuru'.

I turned, She was framed in the doorway to the kitchen. I said,

"Seventeen down."

We both burst out laughing because we immediately recognized that one.

'YesssssssSSSSS!!'

Dad came through at that moment.

"What's the joke?"