Hard Times with Mom Ch. 06

Mom and I had spent the whole night fucking and didn't get any sleep at all. The people at her new job called only about five minutes after I pulled my limp, exhausted cock out of her raw pussy. She was on the phone finalizing her travel arrangements with them, as I headed for the bathroom rubbing my bleary eyes. The scent of Mom's pussy was strong on my fingers.

I splashed a several handfuls of cold water onto my face, then stood naked in front of the toilet and began to pee. It was one of those thick, hard streams that felt so good to release. I heard a noise at the door and looked over to find Mom watching me. She had on a t-shirt, but no panties. I could see a hint of her luscious pubic hair peeking out at the bottom edge of the shirt. Her face displayed an expression of strange fascination as she seemed unable to look away from my pissing cock.

"Don't tell me you're into golden showers," I teased. Startled, she looked up at me with a blush and for some reason tugged her shirt down to hide her pussy from me. This, of course, had the effect of pulling the shirt tighter against her large breasts and making her nipples stand out all the more.

"Don't be disgusting," she grimaced. "We have to pick up the rental car, so we need to get going." As she spoke her eyes dropped back down and she didn't leave until I had finished my last squirt. When she turned to go I caught the briefest glimpse of Mom's bare ass. Absolutely adorable.

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It took a while for us to get packed up and on the road, but we were finally on the highway and headed for Texas. I was feeling pretty low after leaving that filthy little motel room where Mom and I had shared some of the most intimate experiences I've ever known. I actually got a lump in my throat as I closed the door for the last time. I wondered if it was really all in the past now between us.

"I know you don't want to hear this, sweetie," Mom said not taking her eyes off the road as she drove. "But we need to talk." I had been expecting this, so I didn't put up my usual resistance.

"I hope it's about how you've changed your mind."

"I'm sorry, honey, but no." She bit her lip as she composed her next words. "I'll never forget last night, or any of our other nights we played together. It was a dream come true for me, but that's all over now. We are back to the way things were before. Back to our old selves. Right?"

"You say that's what you want," I replied after some hesitation.

"It is what a want," she said with a strained sadness in her voice

"But I don't want to go back to before. I love you, and I love the things we do together."

"I know. And this is just as hard for me, but as a parent I can't let that go on between us any more. Please tell me you understand."

I could see Mom's hands gripping the steering wheel too tightly. She was doing everything she could to keep from crying. My own guilty feelings surfaced as I looked at her. I wasn't ashamed of the things we'd done together, but rather that I was taking advantage of her. Over the past weeks I had learned something about the secret fantasies she had always had about me, and I now knew how she was seemingly unable to resist her own sexual passions. I had been taking advantage of that. I'd been using my sweet mother's inability to resist her darkest urges. I had turned it to my advantage in order to take my own pleasure from her, and satisfy my perverse desires. She deserved better from her own son.

"I understand completely, Mom," I finally affirmed. "From now on we're just a normal mother and son, with some very happy memories of a special time we shared."

"Thank you, dear," she almost sobbed, wiping a stray tear from her cheek. "That means so much to me."

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We had stopped for coffee three times, but I was still falling asleep at the wheel--and it wasn't even much past lunchtime. My head nodded and I jumped back to alertness jerking the car into our lane before having drifted too far. Startled by the swerve, Mom jolted awake in the seat next to me.

"Okay, that's it," she announced. "We're going to kill ourselves if we don't stop. Let's find a room and get some rest."

I pulled off at the next exit and one of those big, chain hotels was sitting right there. It was all clean and stylish, and something about it totally pissed me off.

"That looks nice," Mom said tentatively. "But it might be too expensive. Let's see what else there is."

This struck me as odd since I was pretty sure her new company was footing the bill as part of her relocation package. My brain felt like it was full of cotton, so I didn't give it much thought and headed on down the road. After a few miles we approached a small roadside motel and Mom perked up.

"Let's try there," she pointed. It wasn't as bad as the flophouse we were at before, but it would take a hefty bribe for someone to rate this place even one star. I pulled in and Mom ran in to get the room. I wondered if she was really being thrifty, or if she was trying to hold onto something we left behind at our last motel. I pushed the thought from my head.

Once in the room, I was disappointed to find two beds. It was clean enough (if you didn't look too closely), but had the funky odor of Lysol and old sex. This room had seen more than it's share of one night stands, but at least it didn't have a gang of hookers lurking outside like the last place.

"Wake me up for dinner," Mom said as she immediately collapsed onto the closest bed, not even bothering to get under the covers. I followed her lead and conked out on the other bed in a matter of seconds.

When I awoke, I saw Mom curled up on her bed in nothing but a white bra and blue cotton underwear. Her pants and shirt had been cast off onto the floor between the beds. Her back was to me and I had a good view of her ample backside, only partially covered by her snug panties. As I gazed at her lovely bottom, I decided I would have to buy her some thongs as soon as I got a chance. I quietly got out of bed and tiptoed around to the other side of her bed.

Her knees were drawn up and she had one hand tucked between her thighs, only inches away from her crotch. Mom's beautiful breasts were spilling over the top of her bra. I could make out the shaded circles of her wide nipples through the fabric. My cock grew hard in my pants, and I instinctively began to rub it.

I wanted so badly to touch my mom right then. I wanted to feel her, and taste her, and love her. My eyes ran hungrily over her every fleshy curve and up to her peaceful face. I thought about how her soft cheek had felt against my cock. How those lips had glided up and down my hard shaft. How her hair tickled my skin every time she licked the spent semen from the tip of my penis. I wanted so badly to cuddle up behind her and ease my cock into her welcoming, wet pussy. But I knew I couldn't do that to her. She was counting on me to respect her rules.

But, I wondered, what if she didn't know? I could pull my cock out and stroke it quietly while looking at her smooth hips, and bare legs, and full breasts. If I was careful, I could masturbate only inches from her sweet face and soft lips. It wouldn't be any different than how she used to masturbate over me all those years ago. And it wouldn't technically violate our agreement if she wasn't a willing participant, would it?

I reached for my zipper, but she began to stir. I turned to hide my bulge from her, and pretended to be going to the window to check outside as her eyes opened.

"Wake up, Mom," I said, hoping to sound nonchalant. "We slept past dinner."

"Oh, my," she declared. "Oops, don't look, honey, I'm not dressed." I couldn't help but smile at this. Less than twenty-four hours ago she had been squatting naked over my face with my tongue buried in her pussy, and now she was worried about me seeing her in her underwear.

You had to love this crazy woman.

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We ate at an all-night pancake joint, then went back to the room. Mom changed into her PJs in the bathroom, while I stripped down to boxers and a t-shirt. We each climbed into our own bed and watched TV.

"Can you see all right from over there?" Mom asked after a bit.

"It's okay," I answered noncommittally.

"Why don't you come over here so you can see better?" I was happy to oblige and got under the covers with her. We lay comfortably against one another and watched some old rerun of a detective show. Mom absently ran her fingers through my hair sending tingles across my skin, and I had to force myself to keep my hands from her tempting body. She shifted, stretched her back, then rubbed the insides of her thighs.

"Geez," she groaned, "This old body is feeling the effects from last night. Everything is sore."

"Want a massage?" I offered.

"Oh, no," she chuckled. "You'd get all excited, which would get me going, and before you know it we'd be misbehaving again. Thanks, sweetie, but I can tough it out."

When the show ended Mom flicked off the TV. She gave me a peck on the cheek, then scooted me out of her bed. She had forgotten to turn off the bathroom light, so the room remained dimly lit.

We settled in for sleep, but it had only been a few hours since our nap, so I wasn't remotely tired yet. I wondered if Mom had any other steamy confessions to share.

"Mom?" I whispered. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, honey, what is it?" She rolled onto her side so we were looking at each other across the narrow gulf between our beds.

"Did you ever masturbate in front of anyone else?"

"Sweetie, please don't," she pleaded.

"It's just talk," I explained innocently. "No harm in that, is there?" She chewed it over for a few moments before reluctantly responding.

"Well, yes, I did once."

"With Dad?"

"Heavens, no!" she scoffed. "Even if he would have been interested, I was always too ashamed and embarrassed to touch myself in front of a man. Your grandma made sure of that."

"So I was the first guy you ever masturbated with?"

"That's right, sweetie," she said with a fond smile. "I had been fantasizing about it for years, but since I was a little girl it had been drilled into me that touching yourself was so disgraceful and disgusting that it still took a lot of nerve for me to do it in the same room as you, much less get comfortable enough to let you watch me with the lights on."

"I'm glad we were able to share that together," I said with a tinge of remorse.

"Me, too," Mom whispered, letting the moment linger as we each conjured memories of our recent intimacies. "But I might have never been able to do it if it wasn't for this one experience."

"C'mon, Mom," I begged. "Tell me, already."

"It was last year and you were away at school. Your father took me out to a fancy restaurant for our anniversary. I had a super-sexy new dress, and a pair of fuck-me heels that that could have put Viagra out of business."

"You must've had Dad creaming in his pants."

"Hardly," Mom said, rolling her eyes. "He thought I was showing off too much boob, and kept trying to get me to put on a wrap to hide myself. But at the restaurant, there was someone who did notice me, and seemed to appreciate all my efforts to look hot that night."

"Another guy?"

"Nope. She had long, silky auburn hair, and the greenest eyes I'd ever seen. She couldn't have been more than twenty-five or so, and had on a pretty, white off-the-shoulder blouse and a skin-tight red skirt. Even from across the room I could tell she wasn't wearing a bra."

"And she was checking you out?" I asked eager for more details.

Every time I glanced her way I noticed she was looking at me. And this was no casual look, she was definitely having bad thoughts about me and my dress. Before the meal came I excused myself to the ladies room. Just as I sat down in there to do my business, someone came in and took the handicap stall next to me."

"Was it her?"

"If you want to hear your bedtime story, stop interrupting and let me tell it," she scolded in her most motherly tone. "I didn't know who it was, but it quickly became obvious that she wasn't in there to pee. Before I'd even finished going, I could hear her moaning. I was ready to run back to the table, but then I heard her slapping herself down there--at least that's what it sounded like to me."

"I got a tingle between my legs, and before I knew it I was touching myself as I listened to her masturbating. I couldn't believe I was sitting in a public bathroom doing that. After a minute she must've heard my pussy. You know how noisy it can get when I'm good and wet."

I nodded, and wondered if Mom would be able to tell if I started stroking myself.

"So, anyway, I hear her say, 'You got me so turned-on with that sexy dress that I couldn't wait to get myself off.' She had a proper-sounding British accent that made me melt. I was too shocked to even speak. Then she said something like, 'Do I hear you taking care of yourself over there?' I think I said yes, but I was so keyed up I can't really remember."

"It was so filthy and exciting. Then she says, 'Come over here with me, love.' I didn't know what to do and asked 'Why?' She told me, 'I want to look at you when I'm coming.'"

"It was unreal, like I was outside my body watching myself get up and go into the next stall with her. She was sitting on the toilet with her top down. She had small titties that came to cute little pink points. Her skirt was pulled up and her panties were down past her knees. She was even pierced down there, you know? With a gold ring right by her clitty. She was yanking on the ring with one hand and touching herself with the other."

I could tell by the husky deepening of Mom's voice that she was getting worked up telling her story.

"She told me to show her my breasts and I whipped them out without even thinking about it. I just stood there with my tits hanging out of my dress, watching this girl rub her pussy getting more and more turned on by the second. When I couldn't take it anymore, I put my hand down inside my pantyhose and started fingering myself."

"As soon as I did that someone came in. We both stopped and tried to stay quiet. The other lady began to pee, and the girl went back to masturbating as soon as she heard that. I was too petrified to move until the lady left. The second the door closed we both started frigging ourselves like crazy. She kept slapping her pussy really hard and came first while staring at my big titties bouncing all over the place. She must have been one of those girls that squirts, because she just started gushing. Most of it went into the toilet, but some squirted onto the floor, and a little splashed onto my foot."

"For whatever reason, that sent me over the edge. I stood there in front of that gorgeous girl spreading her legs for me, with my fingers buried in my puss, and made myself come like mad. She put herself together in a snap while I was still trying to gather my wits. She kissed me full on the lips and told me to save room for dessert, then left."

Mom was certainly full of surprises these days!

"And that's why you were able to masturbate with me?" I finally sputtered.

"I figured if I could do that with a strange woman in a public ladies room, I should be able to get off with my own son in a dark motel room."

"Did you go back for dessert and lick her puss--"

"Okay," she interrupted. "I know it's just talk but we really shouldn't be doing this. Let's try to forget about all that stuff and get to sleep now."

"All right," I pouted, truly disappointed, but not wanting to risk pushing it that night.

"Can you turn off the bathroom light for me, sweetie?" she asked. I got up and switched it off, leaving the room almost completely dark, and climbed back into bed.

"'Night, Mom."

"'Night, darling. Sweet dreams."

But I couldn't forget about 'all that stuff.' Just the idea of my mom masturbating with a strange woman in a public toilet was such a turn on. I wished it hadn't taken me so long to discover what a sexual animal she really was. I found myself stuck with a real predicament.

After that conversation, I absolutely had to jerk off, and soon. I knew I shouldn't do it there in bed. If I went to the bathroom, Mom would figure out what I was up to and probably get upset. I couldn't very well go out to the car and whack it, but that was becoming a definite possibility. Before I sorted out how to relieve myself, I thought I heard a familiar noise coming from Mom's bed.

"Mom? Are you playing?" I whispered and the faint noise suddenly stopped.

"No," she answered haltingly. "I'm trying to get to sleep."

"Sorry," I apologized, but wasn't convinced. I stayed quiet and listened intently. There was nothing for at least five minutes or so. I couldn't hear a thing, but I then I thought I noticed her breathing change very subtly. It may have only been my hopeful imagination, but I was pretty sure she was up to something.

There was just a sliver of moonlight coming in past the edge of the curtain, but that was enough for me to catch the motion of Mom slowly parting her legs. No matter how careful she was trying to be, I was sure of it then.

"I know you're masturbating over there, Mom," I whispered again.

"Never mind what I'm doing," she whispered back. "Go to sleep."

"If you're going to play with yourself, then I should be able to jerk off, too."

"No, we're not doing that anymore."

"But we're still cooped up in one room, and we both obviously still have urges, so like you said way back in the first place, it's kind of silly not to."

"No, honey, please," she begged. "We can't let this start all over again. We need to have some self-control--like two responsible, grown adults."

"Fine, whatever," I grumped. I figured I'd just have to wait for her to fall asleep and creep off to the bathroom and blow my load into the sink. As I thought about it I realized I shouldn't be mad at my mother. It probably was my overactive imagination making more out of her every little sound and movement. She might not have been touching herself at all. Even so, I didn't know how long I would be able to wait for her to fall asleep before I couldn't resist jerking myself.

That's when I heard a tiny, breathy moan from my mom's bed. This was followed by the unmistakable sound of her fingers working in and out of her wet pussy, muffled only slightly by her blanket. She was going to drive me nuts with these head games.

As best as I could figure, she wanted us to maintain some sort of shared fiction that everything was normal between us. But in actuality, she couldn't completely deny her true desires. If that was how she had to have it, I'd play along.

I pushed my covers aside and began stroking my aching cock. I jerked myself so that my hand slapped lightly against my balls on the down stroke to be sure Mom knew what I was doing. She must have noticed, because she pulled her blanket aside as well, and I could clearly hear the moist squelching sound of her hand between her legs, punctuated occasionally by the sound her slapping her pussy just like the girl from the ladies room. This was better than nothing, I decided, and took pleasure from the fact that Mom and I were once again masturbating together.

"My pussy feels so good," Mom said in barely a whisper. "It's so nice to touch myself and think about when my little boy's cock was inside me."

That had me a little confused and I wasn't sure if I should say anything, or more to the point, if I she wanted me to hop on top of her and fuck her. Then I realized that she wasn't actually talking to me, but rather to herself. Another of her tricks to keep things separate in her mind?

"I loved watching my boy stroke his big cock for me, and his cum tasted so good when he squirted in my mouth," she continued, but just a little louder than a whisper. I was pretty sure I had it figured out.