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It was around 8 am on a Saturday when I pulled up to my Moms’ condo. It had been over a year since I had last seen her (at Dads’ funeral) and I was really hoping her grief was finally moderating. I had made it a point to call her every Sunday and had recently noticed an upbeat tone in her voice as well as what seemed to be a more positive outlook on life so I hoped she was finally coming out of the stages of grief.

Hopefully my little surprise would cheer her up even more. It had taken me eight months but I had finally been able to find a new job near Seattle and now I could visit her regularly. I had kept quiet about my move in order to really surprise her and now, with the move accomplished and with my 90 day probationary period over, I had a really wonderful birthday present for her.

With my truck keys in hand, I took the elevator to the top floor, and walked to her door. She had given me the key to the condo at the funeral in case I ever visited and she wasn’t home when I got there so I unlocked her door and walked in. Closing the door quietly I stood still, listening for any clue as to where she was, and silently walked into the living room.

She wasn’t there and a quick glance into the kitchen showed it, too, was empty. The balcony was unoccupied as well although two wine glasses and an empty bottle of wine caused me to smile. Fucking outstanding, I thought to myself, she’s made a friend. I moved towards the hallway and stopped as I considered the implications.

If she was out, looking into her bedroom wasn’t an issue. If, however, she was home with a friend then announcing myself would probably shock her silly especially if they were being intimate.

Given those two options I decided discretion was the better part of valor and retreated to the living room sofa. I sat there for about 5 minutes before I realized if she was being intimate with a friend then one of them (or maybe both) would eventually need the bathroom and having them see me waiting would definitely be uncomfortable for all concerned.

I had just gotten up when movement caught my eye and I saw a man, mid to late thirties, stumble out of Moms’ room. He was about my height but the resemblance ended there. Where my hair was short his hadn’t seen a clipper in quite a few years. He had a beard (which also hadn’t seen a clipper in years) while I was clean shaven. He had a huge beer gut while frequent workouts kept my belly flat and toned.

He saw me, stopped, and growled “Who are you?”

I smiled and said “I’m Helens’ son. I came over hoping to surprise her on her birthday.”

He scratched his matted pubic hair (I noticed he had a small dick), farted loudly, than grinned. “My bitch isn’t seeing company right now.” He gave a coarse laugh and added “Especially family.” He scratched his right armpit, farted again, than showed me an evil smile.

Something about him set my nerves on edge and I realized I had settled into a fighting stance. He seemed oblivious because he smiled and said “On the other hand if you’re that cunts son than maybe you need an ass-fucking too.”

My jaw dropped at his remark and he started to become erect. “It’s been awhile since I had a pretty boy moaning under me. Come to Daddy, boy. Let me give you what I gave your momma.”

Enough was enough. My attack left him flat on his back, grimacing in pain, while I twisted his right wrist in a direction it was not designed to go. I had my foot on his throat and I grinned as I asked him “Who’s moaning now?” He didn’t reply so I twisted his wrist harder and let the pressure from my foot lighten just a little. He screamed in pain and I chuckled a bit before repeating the question.

He just whimpered and shook his head, refusing to answer, and I realized that Mom would really be pissed if I broke her boyfriend beyond mending. “Listen up asshole.” I told him. He looked at me with pain filled eyes and I gave him my patented shark grin.

“I’m going to talk to my Mom. If she says you’re her boyfriend I’ll let you walk away. If she says you’re a rapist then I WILL plant your dead body where no one will ever find you. Are you one hundred fucking percent clear on this?” He just stared at me so I added “If you don’t answer me I’m going to break your wrist.”

“Fuck, please don’t!” he begged in a pained voice. “She picked me up last night and told me to fuck her like a whore.” He moaned as I increased the pressure almost to the breaking point. “She never mentioned she had a son.” His eyes showed no lie as he added “I just did as she asked, man, and then I let my elephant mouth overload my mosquito ass when I saw you. I’m sorry I insulted you, dude.”

I locked gazes with him and nodded. “I still need to talk to my Mom. You had better hope she confirms your story.” He nodded his head and I walked into my Moms’ bedroom. My jaw dropped because she was naked, face down, and pantyhose secured her hands to the headboard. Semen was dribbling out of her ass and from the matted pubic hair she had taken more than one load up her pussy.

Rushing to her bed I asked her “Are you okay, Mom?”

She moaned, turned her head away, and whispered “Oh God, Ronnie, you shouldn’t see me like this.”

“Did that bastard rape you?” I asked and she heard the anger in my voice for she shook her head.

“No, Ronnie, he didn’t rape me. I asked him to do this to me.” She sobbed a couple of times, probably ashamed for me to see her like this, than asked “Would you untie me please?”

I had a hard time working the knots free for they had been pulled tight (I sternly forced my mind away from thinking about exactly why) and finally freed her after a long couple of minutes. I heard movement behind me and glanced up as the asshole darted in, grabbed his clothes and shoes, said “Sorry again, man, I’ll dress in the living room and then split.”

“Turn your head away, Ronnie.” I heard my mother ask and when I did she got up off the bed and walked into the adjoining master bath. I stared at the mattress for a couple of minutes as my mind traveled down some very dark and twisted paths before finally shaking my head and walking out. There are some things a son should never learn about his mother.

I was standing on the balcony, still grappling with what I had seen, when Mom joined me. She is 5 foot tall, and probably weighs no more than 95 pounds. Her reddish-brown hair hangs to her waist when allowed to and she has deep blue eyes, a button nose, and full lips. Her 43 year old figure is stunning with large breasts (for her body type), a narrow waist, a tight butt, and toned thighs and legs.

She’s smart, funny, and most of all practical. Growing up all my friends had loved her and, as we matured, often commented that they wished that they would find someone like her when they married. Some of the guys had made MILF comments but that stopped after I beat a couple of them up.

She came up next to me, and we looked out at Puget Sound for a couple of minutes, then she sighed and said “I wish you would have told me you were coming out here.”

“I’m sorry, Mom, but I wanted to surprise you.” I replied.

She chuckled and said “You did.” I sensed her looking at me so I turned my head and she added “I’m not going to apologize for what you saw.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to, Mom, and it’s really none of my business anyway.” Something had been bothering me and I suddenly realized what it was. I hesitated and seriously considered not delving any deeper but realized I had to know. “When I met what’s-his-name in the hallway he said you had picked him up last night.”

She nodded yes and I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and whispered “Please tell me you didn’t have unprotected sex with a stranger.” I opened my eyes and saw that she was giving me a considering look and I wondered if she would answer or tell me to mind my own business.

She looked back out at the Sound, sighed and wrapped her arms around herself, than turned to face me. “Let’s go inside, son, I would rather not have this conversation out here.” I followed her into the living room and sat on the couch while she sat on the far end of it facing me. “I assume you asked that question because you’re concerned about my contracting S.T.D’s and/or H.I.V?”

I nodded yes and she smiled. “This is going to be a long story, and you’re going to learn some things that will probably shock you, but before I start let me just say that while yes, I did pick up Frank, and yes he was a stranger, I know for certain that he has a clean bill of health.” Before I could say anything she raised a hand to forestall me and continued. “Many years ago your father and I joined a very private club that catered to people who shared the same sexual desires. One of the rules for membership is that each member must submit to a monthly blood test to determine if they have an S.T.D. and I met Frank through the club directory.” She paused as if to invite a question so I jumped in.

“So this isn’t something new?” I asked. “I mean it’s not a reaction to Dads’ death?”

She shook her head and then said “Oh no, Ron, not new at all.” She looked down at her hands for a moment than asked me if I would open a bottle of wine. I went into the kitchen and spent several minutes fulfilling her request and when I went back into the living room she was staring out into space with a small smile on her face.

I filled two glasses and set the bottle on the glass table which caused mother to frown so I quickly placed a coaster under it and, as I handed her a wine glass, she rewarded me with a smile of thanks. I settled onto my end of the sofa while she stared into her wine glass as if the secrets of the universe were contained within it.

“I think you know your father and I met when I was 17 and he was 19?” She looked up in time to see my affirmative nod and continued. “The day after my eighteenth birthday he took me out to see a movie and invited me to his apartment afterwards.”

A small smile was playing across her mouth as she said “I knew I shouldn’t but your father was so charming I accepted. He had a bottle of champagne and after a couple of glasses I was quite giddy.” She looked at me and the small smile became a grin as she added “I was a terrible tease back then and I teased your father one too many times.”

She sipped her wine (I had forgotten I was also holding a glass so I did likewise) and after a moment continued. “I forget how it started but I said something and your father replied that I should have my bottom spanked. I dared him to try and suddenly I was across his lap, my skirt was up, and he was spanking me.”

She shifted on the couch and her eyes were far away as she re-lived the moment. “I felt his erection pressing against my abdomen and I don’t know if it was that, or the champagne, or the burning pain he was inflicting on my backside but I suddenly climaxed.” Her eyes refocused and she told me “I had played with myself before, as all girls will, but the pleasures I had given myself paled in comparison to this. It was like a supernova deep within me.”

She was breathing heavily and her nipples were threating to cut right through her t-shirt as she continued. “By the time I had recovered I was flat on my back on the floor, my panties were gone, and your father was in me.”

She gave a little giggle and said “He raped me, thrusting his hard dick in and out, and I enjoyed every damn minute of it. It was a hell of a night, Ron, a hell of a night.” We both sipped our wine and she added “I lost my virginity, learned I could have multiple orgasms, and became pregnant.”

I damn near spilled my wine I was so surprised and she must have seen it for she nodded her head at me and leaned back onto the sofa. “He took me three times that night, Ron, that first time on the floor and then twice more in his bed. To this day the best I can describe it is like being in a small rowboat on a raging ocean. A wave would take me as high as the sky and then I would slide down the backside. I would rest in the trough for a moment then another wave would take me away.”

She giggled again and told me “By the time he was done I was almost delirious with pleasure but of course I couldn’t let him know that so I nagged him to drive me home, which he did, and then he fled in fear of my fathers’ wrath.” She gave me a wry grin and said “To say that your grandparents were less than thrilled about their eighteen year old daughter coming home at three in the morning reeking of sex would be a massive under-statement.”

I grinned, then laughed, and said “A real Oh Shit moment, no doubt for all sides, so what happened next?”

She smiled and replied “Well, of course Father insisted I have no more contact with the violator of his daughter, Mother lectured me firmly about the dangers of unprotected sex once I admitted to her your Dad hadn’t used protection, and your Father actually wrote an apology letter which was smuggled to me by your great-aunt Christine.”

By this time I was in stitches and Mom was openly laughing. “What none of them knew was that all I wanted was your father between my legs so I could go to paradise again.” She threw her head back and howled in laughter. “Score one for the studs in life, Ron, in which your father ranked at the top of my list.”

She drained her glass and held it out to me. I set mine down (still half full) poured her another, retrieved my own, and waited for her to continue.

She stared into her full glass and quietly said “I was amazed, and confused, when I missed my period. I didn’t say anything because good girls didn’t get knocked up before they got married.”

My burst of laughter startled her and she asked “What’s so funny, Ron?”

“I was just thinking of a joke about good girls and nice girls.” I replied. Her body posture invited the tag line so I said “A good girl goes to a party, goes home, and goes to bed. A nice girl goes to a party, goes to bed, and goes home.”

She was sipping her wine when I delivered the punch line and she laughed, causing a fine mist to moisten the carpet, than she set her glass down. “Oh my God, Ronnie, well put. In your Fathers’ case I was definitely a NICE girl.”

I grinned at her and, attempting to get her back on track, said “So it was a double ring wedding?”

“Both barrels, kiddo.” (She had obviously caught that joke!) “One week after I announced I was pregnant we were married. Charlene White, my best friend, was my maid of honor while Jack Carter was your fathers’ best man.”

I smiled and said “No doubt Grand-dad was lurking in the background ready to defend the family honor.”

She gave a crow of laughter and said “Lurking my ass, he was in the front row, shotgun and all, with mother standing next to him reminding him it was bad form to shoot the father of their grandchild!”

I stood up and said “Mom, I’m so glad we had this talk, and I hate to cut it short but I have a couple of presents for you.”

She made a sit down motion with her free hand and replied “We’re not done yet.” so I sat back down. “On our honeymoon night your father was gentle, considerate, kind, and attentive. I had one small orgasm, which was quite unsatisfactory, and cried myself to sleep.”

“We talked about it the next morning, or rather I talked and he listened, and that night he tied me to the bed and spanked me. He called me filthy names as he fucked me, and then he stuffed a coke bottle into my….” she stopped herself, blushed, and continued “Well, no need to get too graphic. Suffice it to say I had a lot of really powerful orgasms that night.”

She was, once again, staring into her wine glass. I watched as her hand tightened around the wine stem so hard I was half afraid she would break it. “I was so ashamed afterwards, knowing that I liked rough sex and being dominated, that I actually thought about killing myself.” She looked at me again and smiled. “Good girls don’t do that.”

I thought about nice girls but refrained from saying so. She shook her hair (which had fallen across her face during her confession) and said lightly “Fortunately for you I talked to my mother and, in what was probably our only frank discussion about sex, she confessed she had the same thoughts but that Father was too kind, or too afraid, to treat her roughly and she was too timid to suggest it.”

This time it was I that stared into my wine glass. Her story had resonated deep within me and I realized then that I was my fathers’ son.

“Anyway, after your father died I quit going to the club, quit having sex for that matter, just sort of drifted along. About 2 months ago I came to the realization that I needed sex the way I needed food or drink so I went back. Frank is the fourth man I’ve had sex with and, quite frankly, they’ve all been very poor lovers.” She sighed deeply and her eyes filled with tears as she concluded “Without some kind of emotional attachment sex is just sweaty work for me.” She fought the tears but they won and she cried out “Oh God I miss him soooo much.” before sobbing into her cupped hands.

I quickly set my glass down, slid over to her, and wrapped my arms around her. She rested her face on my chest, her arms around my neck, and cried for a long time. I have never felt more helpless as my mother cried and all I could do was rub her back and make comforting sounds.

Her sobs became sniffles and then finally went away entirely. I handed her some tissues from the box she kept on the side table and watched as she dried her eyes and blew her nose. She gave me a weak smile, kissed my cheek, and said “I’m glad you’re here. How long can you stay?”

I smiled at her and said “Mom, I’ve been hiding a secret from you.” I thought for a moment then added “2 secrets.”

She instantly looked worried and asked “What secrets? Why hide them from me?” Her face paled and she whispered “Oh my god, you’re not sick are you?”

I shook my head and gave a little laugh. “I kept the first one secret because I wanted to surprise you and I was never going to tell you the second secret at all. Okay, the first secret is that after Dad died I started job seeking in the Seattle area because I didn’t want you to be all alone. Three months ago I found one. My 90 day probationary period was up yesterday and I’ve got a real estate agent helping me find a house.”

Her eyes widened, she flashed me a high wattage smile and, with a glad cry hugged me. “I’m so happy you’re here, Ron, and that I’ll be able to see you more often. This is the best birthday present I can think of.” she whispered in my ear before giving me a kiss on the cheek.

I wrapped my arms around her and hugged her before spilling my second secret. I hesitated a moment because I really wasn’t sure how she would take it. Taking a deep breath I looked into her eyes and began. “Do you remember saying how I was just like father? Same color hair and eyes, same way of walking, of how we could almost be twins?” She nodded yes so I continued. “Up until today I didn’t realize we had something else in common.”

She looked puzzled and a bit confused so I asked her “Do you remember me talking about Janet?” She nodded again and I gently said “She was my sub.” She didn’t catch on at first but I could tell when it sank in. Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped and she made as if to back away from me but I held her in a firm grip.

“She didn’t want to move to Seattle so I freed her shortly before I left.” Mom still wasn’t processing too well so I spelled it out. “I was her Master and she was my sexually submissive slave.” Looking into her eyes I saw something I never ever wanted to see. I swear I could see the fear growing in her and as she started to struggle against my grip I gave her a firm shake and said “Stop that, Mother.” in a commanding tone.

To my surprise, she stopped moving, but the fear in her eyes remained so I lifted my hands from around her waist, gently placed them on her shoulders, and softly said “You are my Mother and I love you, honor you, and respect you. I will never try to get you to do anything you aren’t comfortable with and I will never bring this subject up again.”

“You’re my mother but you are also a very desirable woman.” She opened her mouth to say something but I quickly placed two fingers against her soft lips. “I’ve been a practicing Dom for over three years, mother, and I didn’t tell you my secret in order to subjugate you. I told you to make you aware that there is another option available to you. Now before you say anything I really think you should consider this second option at length, so go take a nice long bubble bath, pretty yourself up, and put on your fanciest threads because I’m taking you out for dinner.”

I stretched my arms out along the sofa back and waited for her reaction. She stayed where she was and her mouth opened and closed several times until she finally said “Wow.” She didn’t say anything else she just stared at me until she blushed and looked away.

She started to get up then stopped, touched my cheek, and asked “You would do that for me?” I nodded my head and she almost started to cry again but quickly gained control of herself. “I…I don’t know what my answer will be, Ron, but for now I just want to say thank you.”

She kissed my forehead and almost ran out of the room. I heard her bedroom door shut and I stood up, very aware of how hard I was, and quickly walked into the spare bathroom. Locking the door I pulled my dick out and began to masturbate to visions of my beautiful mother sexually submitting to my dominance.

Less than a minute later I was pumping a huge load into the bathroom sink and, after catching my breath, washing my hands, and zipping up my trousers I walked back into the living room, down the hallway, to knock on my mothers’ door.

“Come in, Ron.” she replied so I opened the door and found her changing the sheets on her bed. She stood up and faced me and I swear her nipples looked like bullets as they poked through her thin t-shirt.

“I’m heading out to run a couple of errands. Do you need anything?” I asked being careful to look only at her face.

She shook her head no and replied “No, I’m fine honey.” A little too casually she asked “How long do you think you’ll be gone?”

I shrugged and said “I don’t know. Probably 2 hours give or take.”

She smiled and said “Oh good, that’ll give me plenty of time to get ready.” As I turned to go she said “Ron?” and when I turned back she was approaching me. “Bend over, honey.” she told me but I just dropped down onto one knee. This put us almost face to face and she hugged me tightly before whispering in my ear “I love you so much, baby.”

I returned her hug and whispered “I love you too, mom.” Then, daringly, I placed a soft and gentle kiss on the side of her neck. I heard her catch her breath and her body seemed to shiver for a moment and I decided I had pushed things far enough for now so I stood up, said “See you soon.” and left.

Since the errands consisted of buying flowers and picking up the gift I had waiting at a nearby jewelry company I used the extra time to shop in a high class erotic lingerie shop. I bought three sets of bras’ and panties that looked to be moms’ size and then went into their toy department.

Since I hadn’t even considered mom as a possible submissive, I had left all my toys at home and wanted a couple of things to make sure that if she said yes, she would experience a night of passion and pleasure she would never forget. My “couple of things” turned into over a dozen specialty items and when I checked my watch I saw it was time to go.

I picked up her birthday gift, the flowers, and a bottle of champagne and made it back to her condo only 10 minutes over the estimated 2 hours. I walked into her condo, closed the door, and shouted down the hallway “I’m back, mom.”

“I’m in the tub, honey.” She yelled back. I went into the kitchen and put the champagne in the fridge then trimmed the stems on the flowers and placed them in a vase. Taking it, and the bags containing the toys, I walked down the hallway.

I slipped into her room and placed the flowers on her vanity table then went into my room, shut the door, and began opening and inspecting the toys. The very first thing I did was to plug the one electric toy, and its’ charger, into the wall socket. After placing the rest of the toys in the dresser drawer I went back outside and grabbed my suitcase and suitbag from the truck. Once back in my bedroom I opened the suitcase, pulled out a clean pair of boxers, a pair of dress socks, and my robe.

I left my room, headed for the shower, and as I did I heard mom squeal “Oh, Ron, you’ve brought me flowers!” I backtracked to her room and leaned against the open doorway while enjoying her reaction. She was sniffing the flowers, her back towards me, and all she had on was a fairly thin bathrobe that clung like a second skin to her exquisite ass.

I’ll freely admit that a taut ass is a major turn on for me and the fact that it belonged to my mom only heightened the experience. I felt my heart speed up as I enjoyed the view and realized I was starting to become erect again. Hoping to distract myself from myself I said “What kind of a date would it be if the guy didn’t bring flowers?”

She spun and I froze in amazement. This woman wasn’t my mother. I mean she was, but she wasn’t, for she didn’t simply walk towards me, she flowed. She moved like a lioness approaching the dominant male of the pride: graceful and powerful, seemingly coy yet radiating intent, a stalking huntress seeking prey, and I became aware that I was so hard I ached.

The passion behind her eyes scorched me and I felt an almost over-whelming urge to take her, to make her mine, to possess her entirely. She stopped mere inches away from me and almost growled “Nobody has brought me flowers in ages.” as she ran her hand down my chest and she couldn’t help but notice the tent pole in my trousers.

Suddenly she looked up at me and her eyes sparkled with deviltry. “It was very sweet of you, son.” She said with a slight giggle and turned away. She looked over her shoulder at me and smiled as she added “I did mention I was something of a tease in my youth.”

I grabbed her, spun her around, pulled her tight to me, and kissed her with rough passion. She moaned, pressed into me, opened her mouth and for a few seconds our tongues dueled. It was a lovers’ kiss and I almost lost control before I came to my senses.

I thrust her away to arms length and looked down at her as she opened her eyes. Her mouth was still open and she was breathing fast, almost panting, and the Dom in me knew she was mine. “Remember the last time you teased a man like me.” I whispered.

She just stared at me, not a lioness anymore but rather a church mouse cornered by a large tomcat, and I took ruthless advantage of her momentary submission. I untied her sash and pushed the front open, exposing her naked body to my hungry eyes, and she did not do or say anything.

For the first time I was able to see my mothers body and I was awed at her perfection. Her breasts showed no signs of sag and her erect nipples created a “tear-drop” shape by pointing upward. I placed my left index finger to her open lips and as I slid it in she sucked on it with her wet mouth. I slid it out, then back in, oh so slowly and she moaned softly as if it were a sexual experience.

Removing my wet finger I gently traced her right nipple causing her to gasp. When I traced her left nipple she began to tremble. I looked down at her womanhood and was pleased to see she had only a narrow landing strip.

I sank to my knees and she spread her legs and canted her pelvis slightly up as if to invite my tongue to ravish her and I saw her lips were inflamed with desire, her clit had come out of its’ hood as if to say “Hi there, here I am.” and she was visibly wet.

I moved my face to within inches of her sex and felt her hands on my head (I don’t think even she knew whether she wanted to drag me in or push me away) so I blew a stream of warm air on her. She jumped as if goosed, her hands left my head, and I stood back up.

As she stood there, her eyes silently begging for me to take her, I gently closed her robe and tied the sash. “Don’t you think you should be getting dressed, mother?” I asked just before planting a chaste kiss on her forehead.

Two can play the teasing game I thought to myself as I left her bedroom and went to take a shower and get ready for dinner.

I was almost to the door of the guest bathroom when I realized I had left my robe and clean underwear on the floor in mothers’ room. I re-traced my steps and as I got to her half closed door heard her quietly moan “Oh Ronnie, oh yes baby, oh baby right there. Now, my darling, I’m Cumming, Oh My God, I’m Cumming for you, on you, ohhhhhh.”

I didn’t stop to think but rather walked right in. Mother lay on the bed with her legs spread wide, her robe open, and one hand was squeezing a tit while the other one was lightly stroking her pussy. I bent down, picked up my clothes, and when I stood back up mother was staring at me with shock visibly written all over her face.

“Sorry, mom, but I left my clean clothes here by accident.” I said in a merry voice. Her face became so red I could have hung her by her feet on a pole and stopped traffic. I left quickly, before she could say anything, and smiled as I went back towards the guest bathroom.

Round 2, like round 1, had clearly been in my favor. As I showered I carefully considered how to lose round 3 in what had become a campaign of seduction.

Mother was obviously a sexually submissive woman while I was, equally obviously, a dominant man. One thing I had learned since I had begun to play this game was that a sub had to be allowed to win occasionally.

In many ways the Dom has a tougher time in a relationship then the Sub. It was my responsibility to create the safety which allowed my sub to give in to her desires without fear. Anything else was rape. A contract, a safe word, and careful planning were the foundation upon which this kind of relationship prospered.

Nancy, my first submissive and in many ways my mentor, had taught me that attention to safety re-assured a submissive person that it was okay to let loose and that a contract and a safe-word wasn’t enough. The sub has to know, deep inside, that they could walk away at any time even (and especially) if their Dom doesn’t want them to.

A submissive person needs to know they can walk away at any time in order to experience the true joy, and freedom, they seek to embrace. To have a healthy relationship both Dom and sub have to realize when the “bedroom door” is open.

The fact that my would-be submissive was also my mother added an extra level of complexity. In my experience there are two kinds of submissive personalities: The 24/7 type that need constant guidance and (my preferred type) the “I love to be sexually controlled but I’m still a free woman.”

As I finished shaving I realized I didn’t know enough about her to make an informed decision so I decided to “play it by ear”. I pulled on my boxers and socks, wrapped my robe around me, and headed towards my room.

Once I had finished dressing I walked out into the living room, expecting to have a long wait while mother completed her routine, and was pleasantly surprised to see her there waiting for me.

She stood up as I entered and I involuntarily whistled. “Damn, Mom, you’re hot!” I exclaimed and was pleased when she blushed.

“Not bad for 43, eh?” she replied somewhat nervously and I shook my head.

“Not bad for 23, Mom.” I replied knowing I spoke the truth. She wore an electric blue tube dress that showed all her assets: perky tits, slim waist, womanly hips, a butt many men would die for, and 4 inch white stiletto heels that screamed “FUCK ME!!!!!”

She smiled at my compliment then said in a serious voice “Ron, I have one demand I insist you honor or this “date” is off.” I feared the worst but she merely said “I want you to call me Helen, not mom, and you are Ron, not son, for the rest of this night.”

I wanted to do cart-wheels (my heart did anyway) but I kept myself in control and merely replied “Of course, Helen.” I looked at her as a man would look at a woman and then tapped a couple of fingers against my lips. “Something is missing.”

She laughed and replied “My underwear springs to mind.” as she pirouetted and I could only admire her sleek look.

“Helen, would you please give me a moment to fetch your birthday presents from my room?” I asked her in an ultra-formal manner.

She smiled sweetly and asked “You’ve bought me presents?” When I nodded yes she added “You really shouldn’t have, darling, and of course I’ll wait.”

Upon reaching my room I unplugged the toy and its’ controller and put them in my jacket pocket, grabbed the “traditional” present, and sauntered back into the living room.

I offered the wrapped present first. “This is from the son who loves, respects, and honors the single most important woman in his life.” She giggled, tore the gift paper off, opened the jewelry box and gasped. A long strand of pearls lay nestled within and her look at me was priceless.

She read the authentication certificate and shook her head. “These are Ceylonese pearls, Ronnie, and very expensive. I can’t accept them, son, as much as I want to.”

I put my hands behind my back and replied “Didn’t you always tell me it was impolite to refuse a gift?” She sighed then lifted the pearls out of the box.

“They’re very lovely, Ron, thank you.” she said as she stepped forward, touched my cheek, and gave me a light thank you kiss. “I need a mirror to arrange these properly.” she murmured to herself before turning to walk towards her bedroom.

I followed her and watched as she sat at her vanity table and proceeded to wrap the strands around her slim neck. As she fussed with a few minor adjustments I walked up behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder. She tilted her head back and gave me a sweet smile before placing her hand on top of mine and giving it a squeeze. “They’re lovely, Ron, thank you.”

I took a deep breath and felt light-headed as I held out her second gift. “The pearls were from a son to his mother but this second gift is from Ron to Helen.” I told her in a low and husky voice.

She looked at the silvery egg I held in my other hand and then looked up at me in puzzlement. I felt my face heat from embarrassment as I told her “It goes inside of you.”

I watched as puzzlement turned to understanding and her eyes widened in shock, her face turned red, and she gasped. “Oh my.” She said after a moment. “That’s hardly an appropriate gift from a son.” She was about to say more but I interrupted her.

“It’s not from your son, it’s from a man named Ron to a woman named Helen, and it would please me greatly if you would accept it as such.” I knelt down beside her and she shifted in her seat so she could look at me squarely. I felt a wicked amusement as I added “I’m quite certain you’ll also get great pleasure from it.”

She caught my meaning quickly and blushed again then took a deep breath and whispered “OK…Ron.” We both stood up and she said “Wait here, darling, I’ll be right back.” She started to walk towards the master bath then stopped, looked at me, and asked “Is it waterproof?”

I nodded my head and replied “It’s designed to be cleaned with soap and water.”

She smiled. “That’s good.” she said and closed the bathroom door behind her. I heard the sound of water running as I patiently waited for her to return and a few minutes after it had stopped she came out.

I was holding the control unit in my hand and I asked her “All set?”

She nodded yes and then noticed the controller. “What’s that?” she asked me.

I smiled and replied “The on switch.” as I pressed the button. She jumped as if a live wire had struck her and her eyes damn near popped out of her head as the egg started vibrating inside her vagina.

“Holy shit, Ron.” she gasped before closing her eyes. A small smile played on her lips as she became used to the remarkable sensation created by the vibrating egg and made a little moaning sound. When she opened her eyes they glittered and sparkled and she smiled as she said “I think I’m going to get a great deal of pleasure from your gift, Ron, so if you’ll just hand over that little magic box we’ll be on our way.”

I laughed in delight then shook my head and replied “I’ll give it to you at the end of our date Helen.” She started to object but I ignored her and walked away. She protested as I helped her into her matching jacket. She protested as we walked to the elevator, on the trip down, and as we walked to her car. I opened the car door for her and as she got into the passenger seat I moved the vibration setting to the second notch and pressed the on button.

I leisurely made my way to the drivers’ side, got in, fastened my seat belt, started the engine and then glanced over at her.

She was breathing heavily, her eyes closed, her hands clenched into fists, and she seemed to be shaking a bit. I took pity on her and turned the egg off and then watched as she seemed to slump. She took several deep breaths then looked at me with languid and dreamy eyes. She panted “That seemed more intense somehow.”

I laughed as I put the car into drive and replied “That, my dear, was only the second setting. Fasten your seatbelt please.”

She gasped and repeated “The second setting?” She fastened her seatbelt, looked at me, and asked “How many settings does it have?” When I just smiled and didn’t reply she groaned “God, I feel like I’ve left a loaded pistol with a baby.”

We got to Seattle and while the restaurant valet service parked the Lexus sports car she took my arm as we entered the 5 star establishment. Mother is 5 foot tall and proportionate in all ways. I’m about 6 feet tall, weigh 188 pounds, and a vigorous workout routine coupled with ruthless dietary control keeps my body fat ratio low.

We attracted admiring glances from both men and women as we followed the waiter to the secluded table I had reserved and once we were seated, and had selected from the wine list, we made conversational chit chat until the waiter returned with our wine.

We were both hungry and I ordered calzone, a kind of folded over pizza stuffed and baked while Helen chose a 5 cheese pasta. Dinner was a somewhat quiet affair, not because we didn’t have anything to say, but rather the quiet of two people comfortable with each other. As we finished our dessert course I put the control unit on the table (well away from her reach), smiled at Helen, and said “I think it’s time for level 3, don’t you?”

She got a concerned look on her face, looked around to make sure no-one could overhear us, and whispered “No, Ron, please. The second setting almost had me soaking my dress.”

I looked down at the heavy cloth napkin she had used during dinner and said “You could use your napkin if you want but” and I looked at her “in 60 seconds I’m going to turn it on.”

She tried to stare me down but I wasn’t giving an inch and it was she who finally looked away. “I can’t believe you’re going to humiliate me this way.” she muttered as she picked up the napkin and, furtively glancing around, packed it between her legs.

I reached out and took her chin in my hand, forcing her to meet my gaze, and softly said “I watched you masturbate today and heard you call my name out when you climaxed.” Her face blushed red at this reminder and I tried to put as much love in my voice as I possibly could as I continued “You didn’t know until afterwards. This time I want you to know I’m watching and to also know that I am the man making you climax.” I leaned over and gently kissed her full lips, sat back, picked up the control unit and pressed the on button.

Her left hand flashed out to grip my arm in a vise-like grip, her right hand covered her mouth, her eyes clenched shut, and as I watched her whole body started to quiver and shake. Despite the hand covering her mouth I could hear her moaning as her body shook even harder and she opened her eyes, looking at me with frantic pleading, before she closed them again and seemed to convulse as her orgasm took her. I watched in awe as my mother experienced what seemed to be a climax of massive proportions and realized my dick was rock hard while my boxers were damp from leakage.

I turned the egg off and watched silently as she recovered her senses. She was panting as if she had just run a marathon and I noticed the top of her dress had slipped down a little allowing her upswept (and very erect) nipples to become slightly exposed. I waited silently as she regained her composure and watched when, after a few moments, she reached down to remove the napkin from between her legs.

She dropped the obviously wet napkin onto the table, sighed, and whispered “Excuse me, Ron, but I need to powder my nose.” Before she could muster the strength to move I had risen and was standing behind her ready to pull her chair back. Once she was standing I quickly reached around and pulled the top of her dress slightly up and back into its proper position. I’m not sure she even noticed and she had her head down as she slowly walked away.

There comes a time in a Dom/Sub courtship when the Sub has to accept or deny the relationship and I knew my mother Helen had reached that point. I also knew it was an even chance that she would choose not to continue forward, and that I would find it very hard to let her go if she refused me, but that I would have to find the strength to accept her decision.

Absent-mindedly I folded the wet napkin up and then wrapped mine around it before standing up and looking at her chair seat to be sure it was dry before placing them on a plate. The scent of her arousal seemed to linger after the waiter cleared the table and I sat there, wrapped in my thoughts, until Helen approached.

Her face was composed, even serene, and I stood to hold her seat for her. The waiter returned and enquired if we would like an after dinner drink and Helen requested a glass of sherry while I asked for a small brandy and the check. Mother merely sipped her sherry and looked at me in silence.

“I think we should go, Ron. We need to talk and I would prefer someplace more private.” she said quietly.

I simply nodded and stood up, pulled her chair out, and followed her out silently. Once we were in the car she turned to me and said “You made me feel like a total slut back there.”

I started the car and asked “Would you like for me to take you home?”

We were almost out of the parking lot before she replied. “No, I don’t.” She looked at me and said “Find a parking spot Ron. I think I would like to take a walk.”

The cruise ship terminal was nearby so I drove there, parked, and we walked along the boardwalk for a couple of minutes before she stopped and faced me. “You treated me like a sex toy. You made me feel like a slut. You watched as I experienced the most intimate emotion a woman can know.” She didn’t seem angry and I felt a sense of anticipation start to grow.

She stepped closer, almost touching my body, and asked “Did you sniff the napkin?” I shook my head no and she giggled then spun around and took a couple of steps away. I followed and when she stopped wrapped my arms around her. “If you had you would have smelt my cream. God, Ron, you made me cum so hard I squirted.” She placed her hands on my arms and leaned back against me. “I haven’t done that in ages.” We gazed out at the lights of a passing ferry for a bit then she sighed and said “I haven’t felt this way since your father died.”

She suddenly spun around and pressed her abdomen against my erection. “I can feel your arousal. I know you want me.” I nodded and she whispered “God help me I want you too!”

She pulled my face down and kissed me passionately, forcing my lips open with a demanding tongue and then sucking on mine when I responded, rubbing herself against me with wanton abandon. We stood there forever, or so it seemed, making out as if we were teenagers on a first date.

Finally she broke away from me, her body separating from mine, and her blue eyes seemed to glow with an inner fire as she asked “How many settings are there?”

“Five.” I replied in a voice made husky from desire.

She pressed herself to me again and whispered in my ear “Crank it all the way up, turn it on, and hold me. I want to cum with your arms around me, with your lips kissing mine, and with your hard dick pressing against me.”

I fished the control out of my pocket, turned the intensity control to max, wrapped my arms around her and, as we kissed again, turned the egg on. Let me mention at this time that the booklet of instructions call this setting “earthquake strong” and it sure as hell rocked her world.

She wrapped her arms around my neck, her legs around my waist, and tried to suck my tongue out of my throat. We ended up leaning against the sidewalk railing, her back against the rail, and she began to hump her womanhood up and down, rubbing herself against my body.

She went wild and I was just along for the ride. I felt her shaking as an orgasm swept over her, heard her moaning into my mouth, and struggled to hold her still while she twisted and bucked like a rodeo horse. She threw her head back and screamed into the night as her second orgasm of the night swept over her.

I felt wetness on my trousers and since I knew it wasn’t me it must have been her. I was amazed as she stiffened yet again and she was so lost in orgasmic bliss she couldn’t even scream as yet another climax took her. I turned the egg off and she collapsed against me, totally spent, heaving as her lungs struggled to take in air.

“Oh my god.” she moaned as she started to recover. “Oh baby, that was so intense, and god knows I needed it.” She pulled my head down for another kiss, not passionately but thankfully, the kiss a satisfied woman gives her lover, and released her legs from the death grip she had around my waist.

She giggled, then laughed out loud, and said “Shit, Ron, I don’t think I can even walk right now. I’m afraid you’ll have to carry me to the car.”

I swept her up into my arms and saw a Marriott across the street. “To hell with the car, Helen, I’m taking you to a hotel.” I growled as I started to walk.

“Oh, yes, Ron.” she murmured. “Your birthday present is wonderful but I want to feel you on top of me, in me, our naked bodies pressed together.” She sighed again and added “I can’t get pregnant so you don’t have to worry about protection.”

“Would you want to give me a baby, Helen?” I asked as I crossed the street. She went silent for a bit then, as we reached the other side of the street, wriggled out of my embrace.

“Oh Ron, I’ll never have another child ever and I hate that but if I could, and if I could be sure the child would be healthy, then yes, oh god Ron, yes I would have your baby.”

She started crying and it wasn’t the gentle tears of a maiden but the full blown tears of a mature woman who was denied a special event. I moved to comfort her and she reacted as if I were a diseased rapist, spurning my attempts to comfort her, crying in bitter despair.

I moved around her, careful to avoid touching her, until I stood in front of her. “Helen.” I said. When she wouldn’t lift her head I resorted to my final tactic. “Mother, what do I do for a living?”

She muttered “You’re a genetic researcher.” and kept crying.

“I know what medical science can do today and it is relatively easy to implant a fertilized egg into a barren woman.” I told her. “The hard part is finding a suitable egg donor. I’m not real clear on the legal aspects, and I have no idea how we can find a suitable donor, but what I can tell you is that it is technically possible for you to give birth to a grandchild which would be our child assuming you have a uterus. It wouldn’t share your genetic code so there shouldn’t be any incestuous issues. Our child would enter this world just like any other.”

Her head shot up and she asked “You’re certain of this, Ron?”

When I nodded yes she shook her head and whispered “I want that.” She shivered and said more loudly “I want that a lot.”

“It’ll be expensive.” I said cautiously. “The actual procedure is straight forward but finding a woman willing to donate her eggs, and it will require more than one, plus the lab use to insure fertilization, is going to require money. We’re probably talking tens of thousands of dollars, Helen, and there’s no guarantee.”

“But it is possible?” she asked and when I nodded yes she grinned broadly and launched herself into my arms. “I want you to take me to bed and pump your seed into me so I can pretend we’re making a healthy baby.” she said.

She extracted herself and literally dragged me into the hotel. I’m sure the poor girl behind the desk thought we were insane as my mother dragged me up to the check in desk and demanded the best room they had. Upon being told the only room available was the honeymoon suite Mom crowed in laughter and replied it was exactly what she wanted.

“My man just told me he would give me a baby!” she gushed. “I’m going to fuck him until he can’t fuck anymore and then I’m going to fuck him again.” She filled out the registration form, gave the girl her credit card, and pulled my head down for a serious make-out kiss.

My hands were on her ass helping her rub against my erection when the receptionist coughed discretely. “Your card has been accepted and the honeymoon suite is yours for as long as you want.”

She grinned and added “The Hotel management frowns upon sex in the lobby but speaking for myself I think it’s great when an attractive couple can’t keep their hands off each other. Have a wonderful night.”

“Oh, honey, we will.” mother replied. “C’mon lover, I want to soak the sheets.” She started to drag me towards the elevator while at the same time the receptionist was trying to give us our room card and, somehow, I managed to snag the card from her hand as mom literally pulled me towards the elevator. I shrugged my shoulders at her, she smiled, and mom said “Fuck I can’t wait to have your dick in my pussy.”

When we got into the elevator I noticed it had a floor to ceiling mirror and our reflections caused me to start snickering. Helen looked puzzled until she, too, noticed our reflections then she started to giggle. Pretty soon our snickers and giggles had progressed to belly laughs because we looked like hell.

Her hair was tousled and the top of her tube dress was pulled down while her hem had ridden up and it looked as if exposure of both her breasts and pussy was a heartbeat away. She had a suspicious looking wet stain on her dress at what would have been groin level and I wasn’t in any better condition for I had lost three shirt buttons and sported an equally suspicious wet stain on my trousers.

The elevator opened and we spilled out into the hall laughing like lunatics. Mom looked at the cardkey for the number and, dragging me along, quickly found our room. She swiped the lock and made to push the door open but I stopped her and said “It’s the honeymoon suite, right?” She nodded and I swept her up into my arms. “I believe it is traditional for the groom to carry the bride over the doorsill.”

She gave a delighted grin, her eyes sparkled, and she cooed “Oh my, am I your bride now?” as I carried her through the door.

I kicked the door closed with my foot, leaned my head down, and softly replied “Yes, Helen, tonight you are my bride.” before gently kissing her.

She ended the kiss and stared into my eyes before saying “Put me down, please.” in a tone of voice I had never heard before. She stepped back a couple of paces and slowly turned around. “Unzip me.” My hands were shaking as I moved the zipper down to its stop and when I had finished she turned back to face me again. She held the dress up with her tiny hands and, as I watched, she let the dress drop to lie in a puddle at her feet.

Oh man, she looked exquisite standing there wearing only her pearls, earrings, and stiletto shoes and I was mesmerized as she stepped out of her discarded dress. “You’re so beautiful.” I told her as she posed for me. Her shoes made her legs appear longer than they were, and as she slowly twirled I noticed they made her butt look tighter and tauter, while her hips only emphasized how incredibly slim her waist was when compared to them and her shoulders.

I wanted to drool as I saw her extremely erect nipples capping her beautiful breasts and felt a surge of animal lust sweep through me. I felt an almost over-powering urge to suckle upon them like a starving infant but I managed to control myself as she faced me again, smiling mysteriously, and her eyes were deep pools of desire in which I longed to drown in.

“My goodness” she said in a sultry voice which made my blood burn with desire “I see I DO meet with your approval.” Her eyes were focused on my crotch and I became aware my dick was so hard I ached while I drank in her beauty as my inner selves battled for control. The son in me wanted to make love to her while the Dom wanted to ravish her, take her, and make her mine.

“Come here.” I demanded, toeing off my loafers, and when she did I swept her into a fierce embrace and kissed her. “You have one minute to find a bed.” I said as I released her. She looked startled yet pleased so I added “In sixty one seconds I will either take you, or spank you for disobedience, so choose your door wisely.” I looked at my wrist-watch and told her “Tempus Fugit, woman.”

I almost laughed as she ran (how women can run on 4 inch stiletto heels is one of the many mysteries of life) to a door which opened onto a bathroom. She lost precious seconds while she stared at the opulent bath. “45 seconds.” I said as the second hand touched the dial mark. She dashed for the other door and tripped, landing face down, and then looked at me. “30 seconds.” I announced. She kicked her heels off and dashed for the other door, threw it open, and gleefully yelled “I’ve found the bed!”

I slowly walked towards the bedroom, timing my steps so that I reached it with 5 seconds left and saw her standing by the king sized bed desperately striving to fish the egg out of her vagina. The second hand swept past the mark and I gave her an evil grin. “Time’s up.” I told her.

“My fingers aren’t long enough to reach the egg!” she told me and I had to laugh.

“I warned you that I would take you, or spank you, after one minute and one second. I can’t take you when your hand is in your pussy so I’ll just have to spank you.” I was actually very excited at the thought of seeing her ass turning red and listening to her squeal as I told her “Get on the bed with your ass up and your face down. Do it now.”

She complied, slowly and reluctantly, and I patiently waited as she assumed the position. “Hmm” I said “So how many swats do you think are appropriate?”

“One?” she replied hopefully.

I chuckled and shook my head. “Oh no, Helen, you certainly need more than one.” I stepped up to the bed to caress her toned ass and she flinched. “I think ten is just about right.” I ignored her gasp and continued “Now the second question is do I use my hand, my belt, or maybe there’s another option. Don’t move, Helen, I’ll be back in a moment”

I knew I was going to spank her with my hand but I wanted her to suffer the anticipation of impending punishment so I walked out of the bedroom then turned around so I could watch without her knowing. She shifted position a couple of times and after a few minutes I walked back in, positioned myself, and brought my flattened hand down in a forceful swat.

She screamed, startled by the unexpected swat, and she started to lunge forward but father had trained her well and she remained motionless. I was delighted when she said “One.” in a determined voice.

“That’s very good, Helen, very good indeed.” I complimented her as I watched the red hand print form on her right cheek. I repositioned myself and delivered a second swat, this time to her left cheek, and she rocked forward a bit but only said “Two.” in that same determined tone of voice. I gently rubbed her ass so her flesh tenderized because I did love her so I wanted to deliver the maximum amount of pain with the least amount of damage.

It took almost twenty minutes to administer the ten swats to her but she took it like a trooper. She was crying, and her voice was quivering as she counted the tenth spank, so I raised her up and gently took her into my arms.

“Thank you for caring enough to punish me Master.” she said softly as she pressed her face into my shirt. I lifted her tear-streaked face to gently kiss her tears away and she responded with a soft moan.

I brushed her hair out of her face and replied “We have to talk about that, Helen, because I’m a very unconventional Dom.”

She thought about my statement than nervously asked “What do you mean?”

I looked into her deep blue eyes and saw the shadow of fear my words had evoked. “I don’t want to be a 24/7 Dom and I don’t want a 24/7 sub.” I told her.

Mother laughed gently and said “I’m glad to hear you say that, Ron, because if you’re expecting something like the Gor bondage fantasy books from me I would almost be required to castrate you with a dull knife.”

“I need to buy you a collar Helen.” I said with a smile.

“It sounds as if I need to start dulling a kitchen knife!” she replied as she returned my smile.

“The collar is the key, Helen, for when you wear it, wherever you wear it, it tells me the bedroom door is shut and I can be your Master. I view a Dom/sub relationship as the spice which keeps sex hot, kind of like a well cooked meal is enhanced by herbs.”

She smiled and kissed my cheek as she answered “You really are like your father. So you’re saying that you don’t want me to be your slave but your slut and, even then, only if I agree?” I nodded yes and she sat up straight. “My safe word is yellow. The contract is when, or if, I use it you stop at once. I will not indulge in piss or shit games nor will I allow you to punch me, beat me, or cause me to be permanently scarred. Spanking is allowed but only on my butt or thighs.” She grinned and added “Is that acceptable?”

I smiled back at her and replied “Completely. I will add the condition that I won’t gag you because, at my level of experience, that is too dangerous. Do we have an agreement?”

She nodded yes and answered “We do, and you don’t need to buy me a collar because your father bought me a very pretty one years ago, which I now consider his gift to you.” She wrapped her delicate hands around my erection still trapped in its prison and, looking at me, said “Even though I haven’t your collar I’m your slut tonight. Does my Master desire relief?”

I nodded yes and as she opened my trousers added “I will cum in your mouth but you will NOT swallow until I say so.” With the housekeeping chores settled I felt, and knew, I would feel better once I had emptied the massive load that had built up in my balls.

Damn, mom gave good head, and I moaned in pleasure as she licked and sucked my cock. Most women tried to swallow cock but Helen had an entirely different approach. She took just my head into her mouth, sucking hard and using her tongue to lash the sensitive area located just under my slit, occasionally probing it, all the while teasing my nut sack with one hand while with her other hand she jacked me off.

I knew I wouldn’t last long, given the sexual tension that I had endured all night, and her oral skills soon had me curling my toes and thrusting upward. I groaned as my climax sent scalding bursts of hot sperm up my shaft and into her mouth, threw my head back as contraction after contraction emptied my balls, and when I had finally finished felt cool air on my tip as she allowed it to slip out from between her lips.

I sighed and opened my eyes. I almost giggled at the sight of her, her cheeks bulging out as if she were a squirrel storing nuts for winter, as she waited for my command to swallow. I took her head in my hand and said “Tilt your head back.” and when she had done so told her “Open your mouth.”

When she did I saw my sperm, dammed by her tongue, pooled up in her oral cavity like a pool of milky white water and I smiled. “Now” I commanded her “Swallow.”

She took my load down with one massive swallow and I couldn’t help myself. I pulled her to her feet, bent over, locked my lips upon hers (tasting my sperm on her tongue as we swapped spit), and she moaned. After an interminable deep French kiss she broke away and her eyes sparkled as she told me “Your father would never kiss me after Cuming in my mouth until I had brushed my teeth.”

I stroked her cheek and laughed. “Hell, if a woman is willing to gobble my goo I figure the least I can do is give her a thank you kiss.” I turned her around and gently pushed until she was on the bed and flat on her back. I hitched my trousers up enough so I could kneel down and gazed at her womanhood. “It’s your turn now.”

I knelt on the floor, placed her where I wanted her to be, looked into her pussy and saw she was definitely aroused. Her outer lips were swollen with desire, seemingly aching for penetration, while her inner lips were flushed red from arousal. Her clitoris was swollen, begging for attention, and I looked up at her. “I’m going to take you to paradise.” I promised her and watched as she smiled.

I used my tongue to penetrate her vagina and we both moaned as I tasted her for the first time. She wasn’t just wet she was dripping and I savored the taste of her sex as it oozed onto my tongue. She gripped my head in her hands and guided me to her favorite spots.

I believe a woman knows what she likes so I willingly allowed Helen to guide and direct me as I pleasured her with my tongue. She was not hesitant at all as she used her hands to guide my mouth and her voice to spur my mind.

“Oh, yes, right there.” or “Oh god so good.” with the occasional “Oh fuck yes. A little harder baby.” while all the time she used her hands to guide me as if I were a horse and she was a skilled teamster.

As she approached her climax she became more vocal, her hands more urgent in their direction, and I sneakily pulled the eggs’ controller out of my trouser pocket. When her climax started she tried to stuff my face into the vagina I had been born from and I triggered the on button of the control unit.

She went wild. Her hips started bucking like a wild mustang being saddled for the first time and I used my right arm to pin her mid-section to the bed so I could suck on her vaginal opening. I could feel the heavy vibrations of the egg still set on ‘earthquake’ mode as I struggled to keep my mouth attached to her pussy while she convulsed with pleasure.

Her scream scaled several octaves up while her legs clamped around my head so strongly that I felt as if my brains were going to pop out of my nose and then it happened. I tasted, and savored, her nectar as she squirted into my mouth not once but three times. She was climaxing so hard I had a tough time keeping my mouth where I wanted it and it took several moments for me to realize she was screaming “Off, off, for the love of god, shut it off.”

When I shut the egg off she collapsed like a puppet whose strings had been cut then, after a few moments cupped her hands over her vagina in a protective motion, drew her legs up, and rolled over onto her side in a fetal position. I knelt at the edge of the bed and watched as her body shook while she experienced quite a few post-climatic after-shocks.

About five minutes later she rolled onto her back and stretched like a cat. “Oh my god, I haven’t cum like that in a long time.” She finished stretching and winced “I think I may have pulled a muscle.” she complained then smiled. “An orgasm like that is worth a few sore muscles.”

She rolled onto her side, propped her head on her hand, and smiled at me. “Do me a favor, baby, and take this damned toy out of me?” When I nodded she lay on her back, spread her legs, and added “Be careful, honey, because I’m really sensitive down there right now.”

Somehow the egg had migrated way up into her vagina and I had to really stretch her out before I could grasp it and when I did I found it slippery from her secretions. She grimaced and groaned as I struggled to remove it then finally sighed in gratitude when I accomplished the mission.

The egg made an obscenely wet popping sound as I pulled it out and she sighed in relief as it left her body. “I suppose I should clean it.” I said uncertainly and she nodded yes.

“After you’re done could you bring me a glass of water, baby, I’m really thirsty?” she asked sleepily. As I got up to walk to the bathroom I heard her mutter under her breath “and tired. God I need a nap.”

I was smiling as I cleaned the toy in the bathroom sink. I’m a man and having a woman admit I had worn her out was a tremendous ego-boost. It got even better when I walked back into the bedroom with a tumbler of water and found her sound asleep.

I set the glass on the night stand, stripped, and laid down next to her. I wrapped my arms around her until her head rested on my chest and she moved her leg so it draped over mine, shifted a bit, and sighed in her sleep.

I lightly stroked her hair until sleep claimed me as well.

I woke up with her breath in my ear and her hand on my erection. I moaned in pleasure and she giggled. “I think I should be insulted, stud, because you fell asleep.”

“Only after you did.” I said sleepily and she giggled again.

“I’ve been awake for a while, just watching you sleep, thinking about what we’ve done and” her voice dropped to a whisper “what we’re going to do.” She shook her head and softly added “I still can’t believe that I’m in bed, with my son, or the fact that I’m so very wet thinking about us making love.” She glanced down at her hand, which was lightly stoking me, and stopped long enough to use her index finger to collect a bead of my pre-cum. She looked at me as she put the finger in her mouth and my cock twitched as she closed her eyes and gave a small moan.

She opened her eyes as she lowered her hand to again lightly stroke my hardness and gave me a mischievous grin before saying “Yummy.” She rested her chin on my chest and we stared at each other in silence until I shifted into a slightly more comfortable position.

“Can I ask a question, mom?” I asked.

“Of course you can, son.” she answered.

“I love the fact that you want me to make love to you, and I certainly don’t regret anything we’ve done but…” I trailed off not really knowing how to say what I wanted to say without sounding like a jerk.

“Why?” she finished my sentence and I nodded. She sighed and stopped stroking me, laid the side of her face on my chest, and was silent for a long moment. She suddenly sat up and, much to my surprise, giggled again. “I guess you can say it was because of your father. When you graduated high school I took a picture of you with your father and after the film was developed I realized how much you two looked alike. I told your father in passing and he waited until that next Saturday to surprise me.”

She stared at something only she could see, a small smile playing across her lips, and continued “Saturday night was our special time of the week when your father would force me to do things. That night he tied me face down on the bed, blindfolded me, told me not to go anywhere, and left the room. I don’t know how long he was gone, but it seemed a long time, and then I heard the bedroom door open.”

“Did you know your father was very good at mimicking voices?” she asked out of nowhere and I shook my head no. “Well, he was, and he made his voice sound like yours when he said, and this is a direct quote, ‘Daddy said you were my mommy slut for the night and I could do anything I wanted with you.’ ”

She gave a small laugh as she continued “Well, as you can imagine, I freaked out at the thought of having sex with you so I started screaming and crying and begging you not to do it. Then I felt you slide inside of me, fucking me with hard powerful strokes, and heard your voice whispering that you were going to cum in me and make me pregnant. I smelt your after shave and felt your lips, your beardless lips, sucking on my throat.”

She smiled in remembrance as she said “Your father had shaved his beard and moustache off and had used your cologne in order to make me believe he was you.” She took my hand, kissed my palm, and blushed as she said “I thought it WAS you, and I remember imagining what we looked like, me helpless and being fucked by my son, and felt an intense wave of sexual desire like I had never experienced before. Your father fucked me hard, using your voice to say how tight I was and how he was glad I was his first, and when he came he cried out ‘Oh Mommy’. I felt him, you, pumping me full of sperm and I screamed and came so hard I almost blacked out. He waited for me to recover then he, you, fucked me in the ass for what felt like forever.”

She squeezed my hand tightly as she paused. “I don’t know how many times I came that night but I remember screaming your name several times. When your father untied me and took the blindfold off and I saw it was him, and not you, I wanted to slap him. He smiled and teased me about having an Oedipus complex and later, whenever you came home from college to visit, he would play like he was you.”

She blushed even more when she told me “I enjoyed it, and often fantasized about what it would be like to make love with you, or better yet, to have you and your father at the same time. When you admitted you were a Dom, and I realized I could make that fantasy come true, I grew incredibly excited and I ended up masturbating in the tub the entire time you were gone.”

She looked at me and almost whispered “When you opened my robe and looked at me this morning I wanted you to take me right then and there and, when you didn’t, I just threw myself onto my bed and” she shrugged her slim shoulders “well you know what I did.”

“Wow.” I replied. I had never been as hard as I was and I felt a wet patch on my stomach which, when I glanced down, turned out to be a large amount of pre-cum that her story had caused me to secrete. “That’s so fucking hot, mom, and you’ve had that fantasy for, what, seven years?” She nodded and I realized she was as aroused by her story as I was, for her nipples were hard as pebbles and when I glanced at her vagina she was dripping wet, so I took her into my arms and gently kissed her. She responded by slipping her tongue between my lips and our kiss swiftly became a passionate one as desire consumed us both.

We embraced and she moaned as she moved her lips to my neck nibbling, sucking, and lightly nipping at my flesh while my hands caressed her back. She lay on top of me and trailed sweet kisses down to my chest where she sucked and rubbed my nipples. She sat up, straddled me, and looked into my eyes. “I want you, Ron, I need you in me now!” she pleaded.

“Put me in you.” I replied in a harsh and commanding tone.

She shifted her body so that her hot pussy was directly over my cock, placed the head of my dick between her labial lips, and slowly impaled herself. She groaned as she took me into her womanhood and gave a pleased smile as she began to ride me. She moved herself up and down in a slow and sensuous dance as old as mankind and I bit my lower lip as her moist vagina gripped my erection.

I lay there while she pleasured herself; watching the gentle sway of her breasts, the way her hair hung down in front of her face as she tilted her head forward then whipping back as she flicked it out of the way, the smooth flex of her thigh muscles as she made love to me and came to understand that she wasn’t just another submissive to be used for my sexual gratification. She wasn’t someone I could torment, or abuse, or degrade, or harm in any fashion.

She was my mother, the woman who had born and nurtured me, who had kissed my bumps and bruises as a child, who had helped guide me through the difficult teen-age years, and who had watched proudly as I became a man.

Twenty-four hours ago I would never have dreamt that we would be in a hotel room making love, or that mother would willingly accept my domination, and as she slowly increased her pace (adding a little twist of her hips as she bottomed out on my shaft) I realized something else: For perhaps the first time in my life I was in love.

I know it sounds strange but I had never felt this way about any woman. I had felt affection, and passion, and desire but the emotion I was experiencing now made those feelings seem somehow less. It was if they had all been magnified by several orders of magnitude and they filled an empty spot inside of me that I hadn’t known was empty.

She had really sped up and by the contorted look on her face, the soft groans she was making, I knew she was nearing a climax so I reached up, took her breasts in my hands, and loudly told her “I love you, mother.”

She moaned and began to forcefully fuck me. She slammed down and froze as her climax took her. Her wet pussy began to clench and release my cock as she let out a shrill scream. I watched in awe as she rocked back as if she were trying to break my manhood off and her body shook as if she were suffering an epileptic seizure.

She slumped forward, her head resting on my chest while her heated breath warmed my skin, and sighed. “Oh my god that was fantastic.” she said and then started planting soft kisses on my chest. She realized I was still in her and gasped “Oh, you’re still hard.” Her face wore a beatific smile as she started to move on me again. She beamed at me and moaned “Let me pleasure you, Master, just lay there and let your slut do all the work.”

I decided it was time to assert myself so I quickly rolled us over until I was on top, lifted then pressed her legs up and over until her knees rested to either side of her head, and growled “I’m going to take my pleasure from you, slut, and the only thing you’re going to give me is your screams as I make you cum on my hard cock.”

Her eyes widened, than closed, as I took her with hard and brutal strokes. She moaned loudly as I slammed in and out of her and the more she moaned the harder I fucked. The position I had placed her in allowed me maximum penetration and I ruthlessly took advantage as I pounded into her tender flesh.

She couldn’t use her hands on me due to her position so she used them on herself. She squeezed and pulled at her nipples while I pounded into her, her cries of passion and pain filled me with an animalistic joy, and she climaxed twice more before I lodged my dick deep inside of her and, with a triumphant bellow, emptied my balls into her.

We drifted in the dreamy lassitude that came after intensely satisfying sex and, somewhere along the way, we fell asleep.

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A son surprises his mother on her birthday, 6.1 out of 10 based on 20 ratings