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We banged on the snooze button the following morning until my son, valiantly, obtained vertical.
“If we have any hope of getting out of here we better not shower together. I’ll take the first, you get the coffee.”
I handed him a cup of coffee when he got out of the shower. It felt surprisingly natural to be standing naked in the bathroom with him. When I arrived at the breakfast table, nude except for the towel wrapped around my hair, I found toast and fresh fruit waiting.
He then said the words I longed to hear, “I’ve decided to take you up on your offer.”
After last night I thought he would, but still my face lit up. “Honey, thank you, thank you, thank you.”
“If I am going to be the boss, there will be need to be a few changes. Over the weekend we’ll switch bedrooms. Except for moving the heavy furniture, do the work yourself. I will order some furniture from Modern Living,” a local furniture store, “pay for it and ensure it is delivered tomorrow.
“I don’t expect you will be spending many nights in your bedroom, so a small day bed should do. Think of it as a boudoir. You can use the guest bedroom as your office. My electronic equipment will go in your office. Move it in, but don’t try to set if up.
“Trim your bush. I like them nice and clean.
“I will be at Dad’s this weekend. I expect all of this to be complete by Sunday afternoon.
“You may continue to see and have sex with Robert. He brings things to your life I don’t. As to Theresa and Miles, it appears I owe ’em. You may have sex with them although, when possible, obtain my permission. You will report to me in detail whenever you guys do.” He smiled, “I might learn something.
“Your asshole and throat belong to me. No one else is allowed in. This weekend you are not allowed an orgasm of any kind. I want you steaming hot on Sunday afternoon. I also want you wearing the lingerie you wore Wednesday night.”
I nodded my agreement.
“The first thing I will want upon my return is a nice long back rub. Now I gotta get to school. Get the dishes.”
He sank his tongue in my mouth, gave my backside a squeeze, and headed out the door.
After cleaning the dishes I fetched the lingerie and filled the sink to let it soak. I stopped briefly in my son’s room. This neutral color would need to go. The proper color for my boudoir would be, rose or pink? Running late, I picked out a turtle neck sweater dress to hide the marks the chain left on my neck and 3 3/4 inch open face pumps.
On the way to the office I called Theresa and filled her in on the details. She sounded as excited as I. I also disclosed my breach of confidentiality. She gave me, retroactively, permission. She said she would see if Miles had an objection. Getting permission after the fact would not satisfy the ethics board, but it was the best I could do.
My morning appointments went well. My mind was sharp; it had been awhile since I had been this focused. I found new sympathy for my clients’ struggles and an increased openness to new ideas. At lunch I visited Modern Living and paid for my son’s furniture. A little flirting got the manager to schedule me for Saturday’s last delivery with instructions to the crew to help the nice lady move a few extra things. I visited Sherwin-Williams, choose rose from the fandex, and purchased the necessary paint and supplies. Finally, I stopped at The Massage Place and bought a bottle of it’s best lotion.
With the few minutes I had left I buzzed a friend. She was our town’s premier antiques broker and a former client. She credited me with allowing her to reconcile her public role as a matron of fashionable society and doting wife of our mayor with her private devotion to her efficient, lesbian-dominatrix, administrative assistant.
My new bedroom would be dedicated to preparing myself to satisfy my man. I described the space available and what I wanted. She and I settled on a vanity table with a large mirror and chair, a chaise longue, a full length mirror on wheels, and two small tables to accommodate some appropriately feminine decorations. I would select the decorations and lush sensual paintings for my walls later. Most of the furniture in my home office would be junked. I would keep the desk. The spare bedroom would feature it and two armoires for the alluring clothing I would be buying. While I am forbidden from using my therapeutic relationships to my personal advantage, last night I had accepted that my professional obligations were secondary to my son. Thus, I called in a favor. She agreed to treat the purchase as confidential and to have the furniture delivered the following day.
My afternoon sessions went as well as those in the morning. After two hard hours at the gym, I headed home. Robert called, asking me to an impromptu dinner. I told him I would love to but was devoting myself to painting. He offered to help, but I said this was something I wanted to do it myself.
I moved the furniture away from the wall and started painting. I got the first coat pendik escort done about 3:00 A.M., turned off the alarm, and crawled into bed.
I woke up at 9:00 and finished the second coat in three hours. I spent two hours at the gym while it dried and returned home to start the move. The furniture delivery crews were on time. They moved the new furniture in and the larger pieces between the rooms. Then, enjoying the pretty lady in her gym clothes, offered to help me finish. I turned them down, although I let them haul off the furniture we were discarding to Goodwill.
By the time I started preparing for the evening’s dinner party I was ahead of schedule. I picked out a loose fitting green dress with one exposed shoulder. It was classy and said I was attractive, but had no need to flaunt it. Robert was, as always, prompt and the evening wonderful. He brought me home about 11:30.
We kissed in the car. I found myself getting turned on. I considered bringing him in for an old-fashioned roll in the hay, but had to nix the idea in light of the no orgasm rule and the lack of a ready explanation for the bedroom switch. So, instead, I reached down and fondled him.
“I know you think it’s a bit wayward, but all night I’ve been thinking about taking you in my mouth. You wouldn’t want to disappoint your sweetie, would you?”
I took his lack of response as permission. I unzipped his pants, pulled out his penis, and started sucking. He gasped and then did something I had not heard from him before, talk to me.
“Feels good, feels nice, oh yes… Keep it up, I gonna come. Yes, yes, ooohhhhhhhhh…”
I swallowed his seed.
He smiled, “That was amazing.”
“Maybe this old girl can learn some new tricks.”
His hand started to slip under my dress. I had to head that off. “Sorry honey, bad time of the month.” His eyes were full of love when he said, “I understand.”
He walked me to the door and kissed me goodnight. I had not thought Robert the kind of man who kissed a lady who still had his come in her mouth, but he did.
I turned on the computer and found a message from Theresa asking me to meet her for breakfast at 8:00 A.M. I responded affirmatively and, too pumped-up to sleep, decided to finish the move. I would be tired on Sunday, but figured after an intense work-out from my boy, I would sleep soundly. I completed the move at 2:00, showered, set the alarm for 7:15, and collapsed.
I arrived at the restaurant wearing fleece pants over my gym shorts and a short sleeve tee-shirt; I intended to hit the gym after breakfast. Theresa, who had pulled in seconds before me, greeted me with a big hug and a kiss, our tongues playing with each other.
As we ate we carried on like giggling giddy school girls, managing, repeatedly, to accidentally brush our hands against each other’s butts and breasts, creating ever higher states of sexual excitement. I imagined her attacking Miles when she got home.
As she paid the bill Theresa inquired what I had left to do.
“I need to make sure the bedroom change is complete. I’d hate to have missed something. Then, trim my bush, put on your chemise, and try to keep my fingers out of my cunt.”
“Would you like some help with the trim?”
The idea of Theresa and I naked, shaving my pussy, sent a tremor rumbling through my body. “Damn right I would, but there’s no way I’d comply with the no-orgasm rule. Another time?”
“Any time your available. Let me show you one of the reasons why I selected this place.”
Theresa led me out of and to the side of the restaurant. There she showed me a lovely spot, a shaded bench next to a flower garden in full bloom. “It’s the owner’s little urban oasis. Few people know it’s here; you can’t see it from the street.”
A glance around confirmed her statement. Our lips came together and our hands explored each other’s breasts, softly caressing them through our shirts. We made no effort to stifle our moans of pleasure. It took all my will power to remove Theresa’s hands from my chest. Nonetheless, as we left the garden holding hands, we took a last opportunity to fondle each other while exchanging a brief kiss.
I put in two hard hours at the gym. I don’t know if I was simply more sensitive to the ladies’ comments or whether, having just locked lips with Theresa, I was exuding a lesbian sensibility, but the women seemed more raucous than usual. Some of them looked damn good. Theresa was not the only woman to whom I was attracted. Was I, had I always been, bi-sexual? If so, what would my son do with that?
I returned home to ensure the move had been completed. First I went to his room, running my hand across the dark wood of the masculine furniture he had chosen. I took the time to polish it, which accentuated its fresh earthy smell. The bathroom between my office and boudoir was in good shape. The office was good, but there was something not quite right in the boudoir. The vanity! It was nice and neat. A kept woman like me would have a vanity cluttered maltepe escort with make-up and perfume as she experimented with new ways to please her man. I scattered materials from the neatly organized drawers on the vanity table. That looked right.
Now to shower and shave my bush. He had not specified what design he wanted so I decided on a minimal trim. That way I would be able to later mold it to his specifications. I used his shaving cream and razor. It seemed sexier to use his tools on my most private area.
I considered trimming it in the shower, but I was so aroused I was afraid the spray on my sex would bring me off. Therefore, after a thorough and careful cleaning, I turned off the water and sat on the shower floor.
I had never studied my pussy before; I had not appreciated how pretty it is. I had a strong pronounced veneris mons. My labia was long, narrow, and not to deep. At the moment my clitoris and its hood, distended and swollen with need, peeked out of my labia. As I thought about it, I realized my clitoris never sat deeply in my labia, it was always percolating just below the surface. The opening of my vagina winked open and shut. It, like the rest of my sex, issued a flow of juice advertising my hunger.
I trimmed the hair of my bush. I then covered it with shaving cream and carved out a large neat rectangle.
I thought about having it waxed. The idea of a beautiful young woman, a total stranger, studying my most private area added another layer to my arousal. I fought the urge to ram my fibnges into my cunt and bring myself off. It was close to sixty hours since my last orgasm. I needed to be fucked. I needed sex.
After rinsing myself off I walked naked through the house — I suspected there would be a lot of that in the future — and sat at my vanity. How did a working girl live without one of these? I applied make-up, painted my toes and fingernails, and fixed my hair. I fluffed up the remaining hair on my pussy and dabbed perfume on myself. Finally, I put on Theresa’s chemise. I stood in front of my mirror. My body was almost completely visible. I inspected the full globes of my breasts, my newly clean bush, my svelte athletic body. I was hot.
His car pulled up outside. I ran to the door, waiting for him. He came in, preceded by a dozen red roses, which temporarily derailed my plan to leap into his arms. After he handed them to me I, near tears, thanked him and then jumped into his arms, covering his face with eager kisses. Then all I could think to do was show him all the work I’d done in the house. Grabbing his hand, I practically dragged him to his new room. He praised me and liked my suggestion for an improvement: installing large mirrors on the walls and ceiling. We then went to my rooms. He marveled at the complete transformation. Standing behind me, he wrapped his arms around me and kissed the top of my head to signal his approval.
I squiggled loose, climbed onto a chair, turned to him, raised my chemise, and said, “Last, but we hope not least, my twat.” It was at his face level and his eyes focused on it. Did he disapprove?
“I wasn’t sure what shape you wanted so I left enough for you to decide.” He blew on my bud, turning my legs into spaghetti and almost causing me to fall off the chair.
“You are incredibly swollen and wet. You obeyed? You haven’t had an orgasm since I fucked you Thursday night?”
“Neither have I. First, however, I want my back rub.”
We went to his room. He lay on his stomach. I devoted ten minutes to his back, shoulders, and neck. His muscles, although powerful, were supple and easy to move. I was grateful for all the hours I spent in the gym and my work to strengthen my wrists and hands. I turned to his right arm, returned to his back, and then his left arm. While I did his arms I paid special attention to his hands, rubbing the oil into the palms and sucking each of his fingers into my mouth, making love to them with my lips and tongue.
I moved down to his legs, working from top to bottom and treating his feet as I had his hands, rubbing the oil into their soles and taking the time to lick and suck each toe. I returned to his back before focusing on his butt. Of all his features, this was my favorite. After working the ointment into his hard buns, I nibbled on the edges of his cleft with my teeth before launching a full-scale assault, licking the length of his crevice. I explored the opening of his anus and before repeatedly shoved my tongue into it. I used a lotion covered finger to touch and explore the skin between his scrotum and anus. I then sank the finger inside his butt and found his prostate gland. As I did so I was attentive to his movements and sounds. I wanted to learn exactly how my son responded, exactly how to please him.
I rolled him over, applied lotion to my hand, grabbed the middle of his shaft, and moved my hand, an inch up, an inch down.
His breathing was deep and slow. “Keep it up Mom, feels good.”
He was ready. I kartal escort applied lotion to the length of his tool and then covered my boobs with it. I leaned forward, capturing his cock between my breasts. He got the message instantly. He started fucking my tits, the head of is cock popping rhythmically out of the top. His cock was long enough so that each time it emerged I swiped it’s head with my tongue.
I looked up at my son; he was staring: he watched me firmly press my fat tits together while his dick appeared and disappeared into their ample flesh. The lubricant had done its job, his cock slid as effortlessly as if it was pounding my wet pussy. His chest hairs scratching my aroused nipples.
My son lodged his left leg against my cunt, allowing me to slide my wet sex against him. I pushed hard; we both knew how desperate I was to cum. The effortless rhythm we had established for the titty-fuck started to break down as we both moved closer to powerful orgasms. I could feel my son’s ball tightening as they slid across my stomach. He was ready. His eyes rolled back into his head and he screamed, “AH! I’M… OH GOD YES! YES! YESSSSS!” The head of his cock emerged shining with oil from the valley of my breasts and geysered sixty hours of stored semen, spraying onto my breasts and chin and coating his flat lean chest. The immense load left no doubt that he had been true to his word, he had not come since Thursday night.
As his body shook underneath mine I pushed my slit hard against his leg, sliding between his knee and ankle. After sixty hours of my own pent up need it was not going to take long. My body was shuddering with the pleasure emanating from my cunt, I felt drops of his semen dripping down my breasts, and imagined what a wanton slut I must appear to be. I could feel the pressure build within me as the muscles of my butt and abdomen tightened.
It was coming, it was coming, and then it came. The pressure in my cunt let loose, flying through my body. I shook violently and fell onto his chest, smearing myself with the jism lying there. I spent the next few minutes savoring the happy glow of our bodies. The first thing I recall as I slowly returned to consciousness was his finger scraping cum off my face and feeding it to me.
“You ready for some more?” he asked.
“Straddle my face, facing my feet.”
Struggling back up, I placed my knees on either side of his head, resting my hands on his knees. He pushed me forward, centering his mouth on my vagina. He lapped his tongue over the opening of my sex, then tongue fucked me. I settled in, grinding my pussy into his face. He moved on to my slit, licking along its length, his strong hands on my ass guiding my movements. I moved my hands from his knees to the bed, rendering my body more horizontal and easing his access.
“Oh God baby. Eat my pussy. You eat Mommy so good. You’re making Mommy’s pussy so hot. That is all Mommy’s pussy has been thinking of, waiting for — her hard cocked son to fuck it and eat it. You eat Mommy so good, baby.”
He sucked my clitoris into his mouth. God, it was incredible. I squealed: “AH! OH GOD YES! YES! YESSSSS!” His tongue, focused on my clit, varying its movements from the vertical to the horizontal, fast to slow, hard to soft. Whenever I got close he would capture my clit between his lips, placing gentle pressure on it, delaying my moment of release.
“You are so good baby. Mommy wants to come on your tongue baby, she wants to come on your face. Please make Mommy cum baby, Mommy needs to cum so bad. Please baby, puhlezzee baby.”
As he launched a new oral attack on my clitoris, he shoved a finger up my ass and his thumb in my pussy, honing in on my g-spot. I could wait no more: I rocketed over the edge. “I’m cumming! Shitfuck. Ohhhhhhhhhhhh! God! I’m cuuuuummmmmminnnng!” I fell onto his muscular chest, but continued to push my sex against his mouth as he guided me through a series of follow-up orgasms.
When able, I crawled off his chest and lay next to him, my head resting on his shoulder, his arm around me. We both slept. Forty-five minutes later I was awakened by the movement of the bed; he handed me a glass of water. He know exactly what I needed; I drank mine quickly. We fucked for a couple more hours, broke for dinner, and returned to bed for more sex.
* * * * Life was great. My son was a tireless lover, my practice thrived, and even my relationship with Robert improved. He said I seemed happier than ever. I realized that I had, half-consciously, resented him for our inadequate sex life. Free of that, not only was I more upbeat with him, but our sex life improved. I was learning what my body needed. I began to educate Robert.
Theresa and I talked to or saw each other every day. While Theresa had promised her son sole access to her pussy until he left town, that didn’t mean we had the willpower to keep our hands off each other when we were together. We would touch, fondle, and kiss, leaving us both in an intense state of arousal of which our sons were the beneficiaries. In fact, even though her son was leaving for college in a few weeks, Theresa was joyful, which she attributed to our friendship, the endless great sex, and her faith in Miles’ still secret plan.
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