The Statue Game
Mother-son incest. Playful. Loving. Intimate.
This is a stand-alone story. If you have read my other stories though, you might notice that it is a kind of spiritual successor to "The Robot Game." There is even a little robot in it. However, you do not have to read one to understand the other. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.
xxx
Mrs. Lewis, or "mom," as I know her, is an immensely popular kindergarten teacher. Some of my friends who were in her class fifteen years ago still talk about the fun they had in her class. It hasn't hurt her popularity any that she is still as pretty and youthful as she has been for as long as I had known her.
I still loved to visit her classroom. She put so much heart and care into the decorations and activities she set up. Every year she strives to outdo herself. You would think the other teachers would hate her for it, but they all loved her too. It is impossible not to. The goodness shines out of her, and yet this is tempered by her mischievous, playful spirit.
This year, a week before her school year was due to start, she asked me to help her out. I was taking shop in my senior year, having set my heart set on a career in industrial design. So, my mom had called me in to use my skill, my brawn, and my knowledge of power tools, to help her build a scale model of a western-style prairie house in the back corner of her class.
It also helped that my dad had passed on a great deal of his knowledge and skill through the countless hours we had spent together in his workshop. He had been a carpenter, well respected for his skill. However, despite his years of dedicated work he had not amounted to much more than your average joiner before his death from a sudden heart attack, one month before my twelfth birthday.
Without him there I felt it my duty to help my mom out, even during my vacation. Besides, I genuinely loved spending time with my mom, which is not something many eighteen-year-olds will admit in public. She was like a big kid the way she played around. Yes, she had taken the death of my dad hard, few people loved each other as much they did. But, largely for my sake, she had pulled herself together in short order and returned to her fabulous bubbly self.
I never mentioned that sometimes, when she didn't know I was around, I caught glimpses of the melancholia that still lurked beneath the surface. I had seen her standing in front of my dad's closet once, just staring at the neat rows of well-worn clothes she could not bring herself to throw out.
She was so warm and flamboyantly affectionate as a wife that I could sense her ache to be held and loved as she once had. Yet, none of the men she met could come close to filling the gaping hole my father's death had left in her life.
Still, when she knew I was around, she was always able to shake off her reverie and greet me with a smile as warm as it was wide.
Today was no exception. I was hit with that high-beam bright smile as soon as I stepped into her classroom. I was brandishing a toolbox and a power saw, and said, in my best southern drawl, "Howdy, little lady. I hear this here town is in need of cleaning up."
She was up on a step ladder, hanging up some western-themed bunting, dressed in a voluminous peasant skirt and a matching off the shoulder white blouse. As she turned her head and her berry red lips parted into a grin she became the very picture of a pretty young senorita.
Not missing a beat she stepped down and, mock fanning herself, replied, "I do declare, sir, we surely could use the help of a big brave man such as yourself."
We both grinned then. I would have died of embarrassment if my friends had seen me behaving in this way, but it was hard not to act like a fun-loving kid around my mom.
She rustled up to me in a flurry of skirts and reached up for a hug. I was so much bigger than her that, without even trying, I lifted her from the ground and gave her a half turn that threw her skirt up in an arc before putting her down.
Though we both laughed, I was suddenly very conscious of her slim body pressed to mine. Hastily breaking the embrace I stepped back and, color rising to my cheeks, I pretended to doff an invisible hat and asked, "Where do you need me to start, ma'am?"
Bouncing up on her toes and clapping her hands together, like a child unable to contain its excitement, she replied, "Over in the back corner there. I can't wait to get started. Did you bring the wood?"
Still being a teenager, if only just, I had to use a cough to stifle a chuckle. But I managed to answer with a controlled nod.
Not noticing, or else ignoring me, she continued, "I can't thank you enough Finn." As she addressed me she absentmindedly rested her fingers on my bicep. I was surprised at how nervous I suddenly felt around her today. I had been conscious that my mom was pretty for a long time, but today was different for no reason I could fathom.
Her mass of thick, dark, wavy hair was pulled back into a messy bun and her dusky skin shone with a luster to match her energy.
"Why don't you take the measurements in here and then you can put the sides of the house together outside on the grass. There's no one in today, most staff won't be back for another few days, so you don't have to worry about the noise."
"Cool," I said and put my dad's toolbox down on one of the knee-high desks. I cracked it open and pulled out the measuring tape.
"Are you sure it's not too much to ask?"
I gave a self-deprecating shrug and a laugh before saying, "It's nothing, mom. Seriously. I have seen some pictures online and I think I can knock this out in a couple of hours with a nail gun and my trusty power saw. You forget, dad and I once built a treehouse in a day."
I winced, regretting the comment as soon as it left my mouth. My mom's smile remained, but its sharp edge was suddenly dulled.
"Shall I get to work?" I offered, trying to salvage the mood we had started in.
My mom nodded quietly and gave my arm a squeeze before letting me go. Even as I began to measure the space for the house and mark down the information in my notebook I still felt a warmth where her fingers had impressed themselves into my muscle.
While I worked I could not help but glance up at my mom every now and again. I recognized her expression of concentration, dark brows down and her bottom lip protruding just slightly outwards. I couldn't believe that I had not fully noticed how appealing that look was until now.
I spent a long time trying to think of ways I could bring her to spontaneous laughter again, but nothing came to mind. After a while, I shook myself and got on with the job.
I only looked up again when I heard a small cry and creak of metal. I saw my mom atop the step ladder again. Only this time her arms were windmilling as she tried to keep her balance. I didn't waste a moment in deliberation. In two bounds I was beneath her, knocking two or three desks and chairs flying in the process. I arrived just in time for my mom to fall back into my arms.
She was so light it was like clutching a bird to my broad chest. I could feel her heart beating rapidly as she clung to me. I held her there for a long moment, not wanting to put her down just yet.
"Thank you, Finn," she exhaled when her heart rate had slowed.
"Any time," I replied, reluctantly setting her on her feet. She fit so comfortably in my arms. It was strange to think she had once carried me like that.
"Whew, that was close." She flattened her dress against her thighs with the palms of her hands, "Luckily I have my big hero here to look after me." She stood up on her toes and gave me a kiss on the cheek. My arms were still around her and they tightened reflexively. I only realized I was doing it when she tried to step back and we found I had pinned her to my body.
Sheepishly I released her and replied, "Any time, ma'am."
Her smile, as she turned away, was enigmatic and I wondered if she was remembering a time when my dad had been the hero waiting to save her.
A question floated up like a bubble from deep inside me. When it popped it asked, "Can't you be that guy?"
I tried to return to my job but I was continually distracted by thoughts of how gorgeous my mother had looked when her big dark eyes were gazing up at me while she was being cradled in my arms. It meant that I kept losing track of my measurements and the job took me far longer than it should have.
Nevertheless, I eventually got it done and then went to my truck to fetch the rest of the supplies. My truck was parked next to my mom's well-cared-for Honda in an otherwise empty lot.
When I returned to her classroom, my mom pushed an extension cord through the window at me. There was a brief moment when our fingers touched and I could have sworn I felt a static charge pass between us. My mother said nothing, but her eyes deliberately did not meet mine and I noticed her lips compressed tightly.
Being a kindergarten teacher, my mom had never been wealthy. But, fortunately, my dad had taught me enough that I would always have a valuable skill to sell. His old boss, Alfie, who I think still held a candle for my mom despite being a married man, was always happy to employ me on a part-time basis. I was no worse than any of his full-time employees and better than a few. While most of the kids I went to school with went to summer camps or took on internships at their dad's firm, I worked in the woodshop. But unlike them, I was able to buy my own pickup, even if it was an old heap of junk, and get together enough to kickstart my college fund on my own.
So, it was not much work for me to put together the mock house once I had the measurements and was not constantly being distracted by the proximity of my lovely mom. It was hot out in the grass quad outside my mom's class, so I stripped off my shirt and went to work with the power saw. I had brought with me a handmade, portable trestle and in no time I had cut the pine planks, which Alfie had gifted me because I told him they were for my mom, into the right lengths.
I quickly built three frames and then, using the nail gun, made three crude, but effective clapboard walls.
During a break, I stretched out and arched my back. My body is well muscled from working so much with my hands and it glistened with the shine of sweat. Glancing back I caught a glimpse of my mother watching me through the window. I gave her a grin and a thumbs up. She smiled back, a little nervously, which was something I rarely saw in her. She was usually such a confident person. She gave a brief wave and then went back to what she was doing.
Shaking my head I returned to my work. My mom said she didn't want anything fancy, but my dad had always taught me that any job I did was a reflection of me, and I should always do it to the best of my ability. So, after I cut out the doors and windows using the saw, I spent a bit of time carefully framing them. These I then sanded and I gave the whole thing a coat of varnish, worrying the kids might get splinters otherwise.
My mom came outside to check on my work and to bring me a bottle of water. I drank half of it and then poured the rest over my head. I shook it off like a puppy, making her squeal and jump back. Naturally, I ran after her and threatened to hug her.
"Go away, Finnley Lewis," she squealed, "you're all wet and sweaty."
"Come on, what kind of a mother won't hug her own son?"
I continued to torment her until she finally relented, as I knew she would. My mom's heart was too big to ever refuse a hug for long, and I wrapped my arms around her. She stood still at first, but then she slipped her hands around my waist. I felt them sliding over my slick back and it gave me a little shiver.
"You are a wicked boy," my mom said when I finally let her go, "look at what you have done to me!" I looked and saw, with no small amount of pleasure, that her white blouse was now wet in patches where it had touched my skin. Big circles of fabric were now perceptibly transparent. Where it stuck to her I could see her bronze skin beneath and, in one patch, the pale blue of her bra. It should not have thrilled me as much as it did. For one thing, she was my mother. For another, her bra straps were already visible with her off-the-shoulder blouse. Still, this brief view beneath her clothes gave me a curious stirring in my belly.
When the bonhomie turned to an awkward silence we both made our excuses and went back to what we were doing.
It was not even midday by the time I was done. The three walls of my little model prairie house were laid out in the sun. Too hot and sweaty to put my shirt on again, I ventured back into my mom's classroom and took a deep breath of the cool air.
"Done already?" She asked, busy cutting out laminated name tags.
"Yup, all done. It's just drying outside. I can finish building it after lunch. I'm assuming you are buying me lunch?"
"Ha! Cheeky," she laughed, "Who's to say you aren't buying me lunch?"
"Hey, I don't work cheap, lady. I took on this job because I thought there would at least be food."
"Well, I think we should decide that another way."
"And what way is that, Mrs. Lewis?"
"The statue game."
I gave her a confused look and then, as realization dawned on me, I said, "Shut up."
She smiled wide and nodded vigorously.
"It can't be," I continued with genuine incredulity.
"It's still going."
"But I didn't even know you still had it."
"I do, I found it while you were outside, when I was digging in some old boxes in my backroom." She reached under her desk and pulled out a retro-looking plastic robot with a black screen centered in its chest.
"Shut up!"
"Want to see if it still works?"
"It can't. It must have been lying around for fifteen years. I remember playing with the thing when I was young enough to be in Mrs. Bouchard's class next door."
"Let's find out. Loser buys lunch." With that she flipped a switch at the back of the toy and, to my surprise and great amusement, it beeped and a red dot appeared in the center of its chest.
"Seriously? You want to decide lunch this way?" I should hardly have been surprised, my mom was a great inventor and lover of games.
"I didn't make the rules,"
"Actually you did..." I started but was cut off by the click of a button followed by the sound of ascending bleeps.
Then a robotic voice announced: "Find... color... green."
Despite myself, I found I was frantically looking around. When I finally noticed the green poster on the wall I made a step towards it. Unfortunately, I was brought up short when I saw my mom was already casually leaning one finger on the same laminated surface I had been aiming for. Her face lit up once more in a triumphant grin.
"No fair," I wailed, "You know this classroom like the back of your own hand."
"Aw, poor baby. Does baby Finn want a tissue to wipe away his tears?" She literally plucked a tissue out of the box on her desk and offered it to me.
Taken aback by her unexpected cockiness I laughed, "Mom!"
"Statue still." The robot announced and then beeped.
"Let's see it," she shrugged, her expression impassive.
"Fine," I sighed, exasperated, and froze in the pose I was standing in.
The silly statue game, which resulted from a gift my aunt had given me for my third birthday, was dictated by the strange little robot my mom now held. It announced a color and the first person to touch it was in charge. The last person to touch the correct color was the loser, but they had a chance to survive in the game if they could stand perfectly still, without flinching, for the thirty seconds it took the robot to beep again. My mom had always thrashed me at the game when I was a kid. But that was because I was a child and, as a kindergarten teacher, the one thing she knew better than anything was how to make a child laugh. Now that I was eighteen, there was no way I would let her win.
I held my pose, defiantly staring straight ahead, while my mom stepped right up into my personal space. I focused on a poster above her board that read "Kind hearts, kind words, kind hands."
She was so close to me I could smell the subtle fragrance of jasmine on her skin. I could feel my eyelid twitching, the corners of my mouth tried desperately to pull up into a smile, but I resisted.
Then my mom cheated.
She tickled me high up on my bare sides, knowing that that was my weak spot. I yelped and closed my arms to my flanks, shouting, "Stop it. Mom. Stop!"
The robot beeped a fraction of a second later, while I was still laughing and trying to fend off my mom's attack. "Seriously, stop!" I laughed as I finally got out of range. She was grinning widely showing a full set of her perfectly straight, white teeth.
"That was cheating," I gasped, still clutching at my sides, "No touching." My naked skin still burned where her fingers had brushed me,
"That's not a rule. I didn't hear the robot say that was a rule."
"You know that it is a rule mom. That's the game."
"That's just what losers who have to buy lunch say. And, who said this was a game, Finn? This is war, and in war there are no rules."
"Apart from the Versailles treaty, the Geneva convention..."
"You know what I mean, smartass. A win is a win. Don't be such a baby."
"Okay. Two out of three then. Seeing you're just making up the rules now."
"I'll only do two out of three if you tie me with the next one. My classroom, so my rules. If you don't like it you can go sit in the naughty corner."
"Wait, you still have a naughty corner? I thought that was frowned on these days."
"Right, sorry, the 'contemplation nook' then. It's still the same place I send little brats who can't play by the rules, only there's a beanbag in there now."
Laughing I held up my hands and replied, "Alright. But I still want another round."
"Okay, you big cry baby. Let's do it."
She placed the robot down on her desk and hit the button. The ascending beeps started and then the robot announced "Find... color... yellow."
My mom immediately dashed off to her left. I looked around desperately but realized that everything was too far away. The closest yellow thing I could see was a large bird puppet that hung off the back of my mom's classroom door and my mom was already only a stride away from that.
"I win!" She announced, the puppet clutched triumphantly in one hand. I swore inwardly and hung my head in defeat.
Then I gave a burst of laughter. "No, you don't," I crowed, far too satisfied for an adult man winning a child's game.
My mom gave me a skeptical look and then followed my gaze down to my feet.
"No!" She cried.
"Yup," I grinned my cockiest grin and ground my toe into the big rubber mat under my foot. The part I had my foot on had a large letter B printed on it and it was a very bright and very definite yellow.
"Shit."
"Mom!" I laughed, incredulous.
"Oops," she turned scarlet and covered her mouth with her hands.
Before she could say anything more the robot interrupted: "Statue still."
She froze, eyes wide, hands to mouth, looking adorably innocent and just the slightest touch wicked.
My mom was a pro at this game, being a teacher she could keep her composure better than anyone.
My first ploy was to simply run at her. I figured she might flinch if I hurled my six-foot-two, two hundred pound frame at her.
She didn't even blink and I was forced to stop just short of crashing into her.
"Come on," I said through bared teeth right into her face, "Crack. You know you want to."
Not even a flicker.
As the seconds ticked by I decided to turn her own tactics against her. I placed my fingers on her slender waist and tried tickling her flanks. When she remained impassive I ran my fingers up her sides to under her arms and tickled her there. Though I saw a crinkle form at the corner of her eye, the woman remained, miraculously, unaffected.
I was going at it with everything I had when the robot sounded its terminal beep. "Come on!" I cried, throwing my head back in frustration. I was smiling when I looked down again and saw that, although my mom had unfrozen, she was still quiet and she had a curious expression on her face, I looked down again and saw that, while my fingers were still under her armpits, but my palms had come to rest firmly on her breasts.
I suddenly realized, with a constriction in my throat, that I could feel her padded bra beneath her shirt. With an embarrassed chuckle, I pulled my hands back and felt my face burn hot.
There was a short moment as my mom glanced off to the side, as if reconciling something within herself and then her smile returned and she asked, "So what are you buying me for lunch?"
"No way," I smiled and shook my head. "It's still only one-nil. You may have beaten me every time when I was a kid, but I am a grown man now."
"A grown man who is buying his mother lunch. I said you had to pull off a draw"
"Yeah, yeah. But I still want a rematch."
"What are you going to play for then?"
"Pride?"
"Do you still have any? You just got thrashed by an old lady."
"Shut up, mom. You're no old lady. You look amazing."
"You're as sweet as you were when you were a boy. Back then you were happy just to play for a kiss."
"Okay then," I laughed, "A kiss it is. I'm not letting you win so easily, young lady."
She sighed dramatically and stepped over to her desk. "Fine, if you really want to be embarrassed I will oblige."
This time the color was purple and my mom won again easily, holding up a pen she had laying on her desk right by her hand.
I shook my head and then froze, steeling myself for her attack. Only, she came in easy this time. Pulling funny faces and stepping so close it made me itch to take a step back. I could feel the heat of her body even through the small gap between us. As the last seconds ticked away she tried again to tickle me. Even though I was ready for it this time, I nearly cracked again. Close to bursting, I just barely held out until the robot beeped and then wriggled free of her touch, laughing uncontrollably.
"Hmph," she pouted prettily and put her hands on her hips.
"My prize?" I enquired, bending over and proffering her my cheek.
"You didn't win, you just didn't lose."
"Mom," I said, trying to sound shocked, "I had no idea you were such a sore loser."
"That's because you've never seen me lose."
"Ha! Okay then, that's how it's going to be? Game on, mother. Game on. But first," I leaned in a little closer to her, "To the victor..."
"Fine," she rolled her eyes but still darted forward and pecked me lightly on my cheek.
"I..." I started, but she gave me a hard look and held up the robot.
A second later it beeped and said, "Find... color... black."
She started to move, but I caught her, for once thinking faster than her. I encircled her waist with my arm and lifted her bodily off the floor.
"Hey!" She cried, "cheating!"
"Not cheating," I admonished, "winning," and I patted her on top of her head.
"What are you..." she started, then appeared to remember the color of her own hair, "oh." Then, after a moment's thought, she said, "my hair's not black, it's very dark brown."
"Very, very dark brown. So dark in fact you might call it black. Don't be a sore loser."
"I haven't lost yet."
"Statue still," interrupted the robot.
My mom froze in my arms. She was so perfectly rigid it made me laugh.
"Mom?" I tried. Then, when she remained unmoved I tickled up her back, asking, "Mo-o-om?"
Still nothing.
I tried her armpits and under her chin and received no joy. Finally, desperate to win I remembered what had happened in her last statue round and took a cheeky risk. I began to slide a hand up her stomach. She did not move. I dragged it up and up until finally, I felt the smooth rise of her breast. Suddenly, realizing I hadn't really thought this through, I found I was cupping my mom's tits through her blouse. Mouth dry, muscles locked in the panic of this awareness, I froze. She was supposed to flinch. Why hadn't she flinched?
I saw a flicker of movement from my mother's eye and, knowing I had already crossed a boundary, I decided to double down. I gave her a small squeeze. It was definitely noticeable, but it was subtle enough that I might have been able to pass it off as a mistake. However, she would have to have a very open mind to believe me.
Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on the fallout from the situation, this finally broke her. Just before the robot beeped, she squirmed out of my grip and gave a small gasp of surprise.
I stood braced for an attack for my incredible audacity, but all that came out of my mother's mouth was the sweet music of her laughter.
"Finn," she giggled, "You cheeky boy. What possessed you?"
I shrugged and replied, "I didn't mean to..." then realizing there was no way she would believe the lie, finished, "A win is a win, mom. You said it yourself, there are no rules in war."
"Touche. Finnley Lewis. Touche. Are you ready to go again?"
"Uh, yeah," I was slightly taken aback by her blase acceptance of the situation, but not so much I couldn't add, "But not until I get my kiss."
She shook her head, but I was reassured to see she was fighting back a smile. This time she walked up to me, stood on her toes, and kissed me gently on the cheek.
A little giddy that I had gotten away with coping a feel off my mom, I had nothing more to add. She tapped the robot's button and we eyed each other like gunslingers waiting for the beep.
"Find...color...orange."
We both dashed off in different directions. I had my eye on the spine of a book in her bookshelf and was speeding towards it when I heard a loud crash followed by my mom shouting, "Got it!"
I spun and saw my mother kneeling in amongst about a thousand counting beads all scattered across her classroom floor. In one hand she held an up-turned, empty plastic jar. In the other, she held a bead no bigger than her fingernail. It was bright orange
"Holy crap, mom. I think you might be taking this too far."
"Ha! That's loser talk."
"Who is going to tidy this all up?"
"How about the loser?"
"You're on," I was confident, thinking I might have found her weakness. Plus, if I'm honest, there was a somewhat diminished supply of blood traveling up to my head by this point.
"Statue still," the robot commanded.
I froze.
My mom had that wicked expression again. She moved towards me and I tried to prepare for her onslaught. Then she must have slipped on a bead because she stumbled forward.
Without thinking I stooped to catch her. Again she was in my arms but, when I looked down she was lying back, laughing.
"You tricked me?!" I asked, stunned.
"Haha! I knew you would come to my rescue. Thank you, gallant sir. Now, get tidying."
"No, it's best out of five."
"Oh my God! You are as bad as you were when you were a kid. Best out of three, then five, then seven. When will you admit defeat? Best out of a gazillion?"
"Fine, best out of five if I tie this round. Same rules as last time."
"Okay, but you're only embarrassing yourself."
"Find...color...indigo."
This was a challenge and it left us both casting around the room, but nothing presented itself.
Finally, looking down, I cried out, "aha!" And poked a finger onto a panel of one of my trainers.
Glancing down at my shoe my mother said, "that's not indigo. That's dark blue."
"And what is indigo then?"
"It's a kind of dark blue, but it's not that kind of dark blue. That is more of a navy blue. Besides, that's cheating. You are wearing shoes and I am not. You have extra colors on you. You should take them off, so it's fair."
"I hear a lot of whining, but I don't see anyone standing statue still."
"Statue still," announced the robot.
"Statue still!" I shouted and, despite the glare on her face, my mother stopped moving.
I stepped up to her, careful not to tread on a bead. My earlier success spurred me on to be more bold.
Sure I could get her to break early, I took hold of the hem of her blouse and asked, "You don't want this on, do you? You said yourself that conditions should be the same. Surely, if I have my shirt off you should have yours off too."
I fully expected her to flinch at this, but she stayed perfectly still. Aware of the time limit, I lifted the bottom hem of her blouse. It exposed her flat belly and the top of her skirt. Still, she did not move. Annoyed and a little desperate, I moved my hands up to the top of her blouse and gave it a sharp tug down. It slid easily off her upper arms and chest, stopping at her waist.
My mom now stood facing me, unmoving, in only her bra and skirt. I took a moment to stare at the blue bra that cupped her small but firm breasts. I knew I was down to my last seconds. I had to win, though I could not tell you why I felt so strongly about it. I stepped behind her and took hold of her bra strap. I was just lifting it and pulling the straps together when my mom jumped forward.
"Finn!" She admonished.
"What? I said "It's not fair. You said it yourself. Here, I'll even take off my shoes." I stepped on the back of my shoes and peeled off my socks before kicking both into a corner, out of the way, "There. Happy?"
She gave me a hard look, which I dismissed by tapping my cheek with two fingers and waiting expectantly.
She stepped forward but then hesitated.
"Don't..." I started to say, turning my head towards her. In the same instant, she must have chosen to lean forward for a kiss, because suddenly our lips were touching.
For a long moment we just stood there, our mouths pressed together, our eyes staring into each other. We did nothing more, but for an indeterminable amount of time neither of us seemed able to move. Finally, my mom smiled shyly and I could not help but join her.
It broke our lip contact and I cleared my throat and shifted uncomfortably. My mom glanced down at her body, where her blouse had collapsed into a kind of loose belt around her hips. Incredibly she had not bothered to pull it up. I wondered at this. Was she really listening to the bullshit rule that we had to play under the same conditions? Or was she just comfortable being like this in front of me because I was her son and she could not sense the shift in my feelings towards her?
I raised a hand, feeling the urge to place it on her shoulder and feel her warm smooth skin beneath it. But I let it drop.
With a forced laugh I said, "Great, so, um that round goes to me then. Shall we call this whole thing a draw?"
I didn't want to do it, my skin was prickling with the desire to push on and see if this little spark between us kindled into something more exciting. But, I felt it only fair to offer her an out. She looked a little timid now under my looming presence.
"What, and let you think you had a chance at winning? No way. Game on!" She stood, arms akimbo, narrow chest pushed out, her lovely face the very expression of determination. I felt a trickle of warmth start flowing into my heart as I looked her over.
I found my eyes drawn to where her olive skin faded to a pale milky latte just above the cups of her brassiere and a drumbeat pulse awoke in my groin.
"Cool," I replied, anything but casual, "Cool. Cool. Cool. Let's do this then."
"Here we go," she said and pressed the button.
"Find...color...blue."
I thought of my shoes again but, cursing myself for putting them so far out of reach, I realized that was hopeless. Even as I considered this a far better option was crystallizing in my mind. It must have done so in my mother's too because we both moved at the same moment.
An instant later I had my hands cupping both my mom's breasts through her powder blue bra. She had been just as quick as me though and her right hand was trapped under my left hand. My right hand rested unrestricted on the cup covering her left breast.
After a long, excruciating moment she asked, a little breathless, "Who wins?"
"Um," I gulped down hard, "Shall we call it a tie?"
"How do we deal with that?"
Before I could answer the robot chimed, "Statue still."
We both froze. Only our eyes moved, checking each other for signs as to who might be the first to break.
My right thumb rested on the upper lip of her bra cup. It held this in place as her chest contracted slightly during her breath out, the only movement allowed in the game. This meant that with hardly any perceptible motion from me my thumb slipped between the cup and her breast. She made no comment and I felt a little dizzy when she breathed in and the pad of my thumb was pressed into her soft breast. I felt a resulting change in pressure under my left hand as she flexed her fingers slightly.
"You're moving," she said through her teeth, like a ventriloquist.
"No, I"m not. You are." I responded in the same manner.
I relaxed my thumb and let it wilt downward until it slipped further between her bra and her skin. She took a sharp breath in and my thumb became trapped between her skin and the fabric.
I couldn't help but let out a soft groan as I felt a whisper of the slightly roughened patch of skin that had to be the edge of her areola.
"You're cheating," she hissed.
"Am not," my hand grew heavy as I gave it less support. Her bra cup pulled outwards and began to droop. My thumb dug a little deeper. A few seconds more and I would have peeled down the bra cup and exposed her pert little breast.
But, once more, the robot intervened with its beep.
When it did, her left hand came up to grip my wrist. I let her guide my hand away, my eyes peeking desperately down, hoping to catch a glimpse of her nipple before her bra snapped back, but it was already too late.
"What now?" She asked, her voice sounding a little throaty.
"The kiss."
"Whose kiss?"
"Both of us, I guess."
She turned her head slightly and gave me a curious look. A spark had taken, I could see that in her eyes. I needed to carefully tend to it now.
Feeling bold, as well as incredibly aroused, leaned forward. Again she surprised me by lifting her chin and allowing me to place a kiss on her soft lips. This time my eyes shut and, though our mouths stayed closed, I tilted my head slightly so that our noses were out the way and our lips shared more surface contact.
I took a deep breath of her jasmine scent before breaking the kiss.
It was then that I awoke to my predicament. All this time my arousal had been growing. Now I was painfully erect and showing it. I had no shirt to cover the bulge and no opportunity to tuck my member away, up under my waistband.
Fearing what she might think, I stayed in close to her, reducing the chance she might look down and see my desire pointing out at her from beneath my shorts.
"Again?" She asked, fortunately not taking a step back.
I nodded.
"Find...color...red."
Even before the robot spoke I felt like I had anticipated it. Or perhaps it just coincidentally aligned with my desire at that moment. It had barely cut off before I gripped her by the shoulders. She let out a surprised "Oh!" As I bent my head down and kissed her again, this time with a fierce intent.
Her huge dark eyes flared wide as I mashed my lips into hers, pulling her body into mine. Then her eyelids drooped and I caught the hooded expression she favored me with.
"Finn," she panted as I released my hold on her.
"Red," I grinned, a little sheepishly, "Your lipstick."
Her cheeks flushed a color nearly as vibrant and she touched her fingers to her lips where I had just kissed her.
I could see by the expression on her face that she was still processing all that had just happened. Fortunately, the robot cut off her response by announcing the statue round.
I immediately placed a confident hand on her warm, flat belly. Her eyes darted down, but she did not flinch. Emboldened by her reactions so far, or rather the lack thereof, I moved to circle her, my hand never breaking contact with her skin.
With her facing forward, I took a moment to reposition my cock under the waistband of my shorts. Although, given how it was close to peeking over the top, I was not certain it was any safer.
I stood behind her, the top of her head almost tucked under my chin, and placed my second hand on her side, in line with the first. I slid them up, testing to see if she would move, but really hoping she wouldn't.
Then my hands were cupping her breasts, lifting them and just giving her nipples beneath the padded bra the gentlest pinch. There was no question of this being an accident or even part of the game anymore. Yet, the only move she made was a slight sagging back into me, which I chose to ignore.
My mouth was dry, my fingers shaking, as my hands withdrew around the curves of her sides. For a second I looked, not quite able to believe what I saw. My fingers were resting on the clasp of her bra. She made no sign of a move this time.
Knowing that this, more than anything we had done before, was pushing the boat out beyond hope of safe return, the fingers of my left hand pushed down on the strap while my right pinched at the clasp. It released its hold with surprising ease and I felt all tension immediately leave the slight garment.
The robot beeped, but I was already too far along with my need to not follow through on what I had begun. She remained frozen, perhaps too stunned to react. I hooked my fingers under her shoulder straps and lifted them up and to the side. Her bra slid off her chest, down her arms and caught at her waist, the straps still around her wrists.
"You didn't flinch," I growled softly into her ear, this won me a small shiver as my bare chest pressed into her naked back.
"Finn," she started, half turning her head. But she did nothing to stop me when I tugged her bra free from one hand. It swung across and then slipped off the other, falling into a small curl of blue fabric on the floor of her classroom.
"You get a kiss," I interrupted, and turned my head so that I could bury my face in the long elegant curve of her neck. I kissed her throat at the point where I could feel her pulse under my lips. Her heart was beating at a frantic pace.
"Finn," she tried again, as I took her by the shoulders and turned her. She offered little resistance, but shyly moved one arm up to cover her chest.
"Now it's fair," I said, my mouth dry as I took in the swell of her small breasts, which she just barely managed to cover, and the flat plane of her firm tummy.
"Finn, I'm not sure... This isn't right." She looked out her window to the parking lot, but still saw only her car and my truck.
"It's okay, mom. It's just a game. We can stop at any time. You're only getting antsy because I am winning."
"You are not winning," she huffed.
"Let's see then," I grinned wolfishly, pinching the robot off her desk. I clicked the button on it's back before she had any more time to consider our situation and waited for the instruction.
My mom won the next round. The color was white and she touched the top of her desk behind her. In her excitement, her hand slipped off her breast and I got a glimpse of a ripe, reddish-brown nipple. My cock twitched against the waistband of my shorts. I felt certain if I looked down I would see the purpling head trying to burrow its way under my waistband.
I froze and she moved around me slowly, almost sensually. She surprised me by, seemingly not paying me much attention, turning her back to me and bumping into me with her backside. When her ass brushed my hard cock I let out an involuntary moan and could not resist the urge to grind against her with my hips.
She immediately jumped and spun, claiming victory. Forgetting to cover up I watched with awe as her small, firm mounds bounced with the happy movement. Then, noticing my focused stare, her face colored and she moved to cover herself again. I wanted to stop her, but held back, sensing we were still in uncertain waters.
She had never looked more beautiful.
"I win again," she cheered, her enthusiasm only slightly more controlled.
"No kiss," I shook my head ruefully.
"Not this time. But who knows," With a little grin, she reached out with her free hand to the robot I still held and tapped its button.
She won the next round again, the color was silver and I groaned as she placed a finger on the fastener at the top of my shorts. She pushed down, harder than was necessary, crushing the tip of my cock between her finger and my abdomen. There was no way she was not completely conscious of my arousal now.
When I froze this time she placed a timid hand on my bare side. She let it rise up slowly then, in a rush, she dragged it across the small nipple low and off-center on the muscular slab of my right pectoral. It immediately puckered into a hard point.
"Does that count as movement?" She asked.
I didn't fall for her trap this time, and she grinned when the end beep sounded and I could answer her, "No, it has to be movement I am in control over."
I won the next round, with her one arm covering her breasts she could no longer move as fast as me. When she froze I continued my assault on the fast disintegrating barrier between us.
She remained motionless, chest puffed out, chin lifted. Narrowing my eyes in challenge I stroked a sensual line up her pronounced ribs like a gliss on a piano's keys. I felt her body stiffen but did not mention it. When I reached the arm she held across her chest I took hold of it at the elbow and wrist.
I heard a quick hiss escape her teeth, and offered her a cocky grin, daring her to break her pose. She made no move, even as I forcefully pulled her arm away from her chest, exposing her perfect little tits. They were remarkably perky for a woman recently turned forty.
There was plenty of resistance in her arm and it threatened to snap back if I let go, so I tutted, "If this moves back it counts. Then I get a big kiss."
I could see the complex thoughts playing across her face though she appeared not to move a muscle.
When I did let go of her arm though it remained fixed in the air, pointing forwards.
With seconds to spare, I went all in. I placed my comparatively huge hands on her breasts, cupping them from beneath, and lifting them, feeling the fat nipples roll against the webbing between my thumb and forefinger.
She made a small, "Ah!" In the back of her throat just before the beep went. She still did not move, as if she waited for my verdict on that round.
By this point though I could hardly be considered an unbiased judge.
"You moved."
"I did n-" she began, but the cut off as I covered her mouth with mine.
Her mouth was open when our lips met and my tongue slid out to touch hers. She stiffened slightly, her breasts still firmly held in my hands, but then she softened momentarily and my tongue probed deeper. I was rewarded by a soft sigh and the briefest brush of her tongue on mine.
When I broke the kiss, confusion was written all over her face and I could feel her heart hammering at her ribs beneath where I groped her breast.
She was so stunned she made no move when I made the robot speak again. Before she even realized what was happening the robot had given its instructions and I was on my hands and knees, touching a grey stripe sewn in just above the hem of her skirt.
In response, all she offered was a timid, "Oh."
I looked up the length of her body, past the peaks of her proudly jutting breasts, which she made no attempt to cover up again.
"Finn," she breathed, almost making it sound like a question. She did not move, but her eyes were wide and followed me intently as I took a handful of her skirt at the hem and raised it to about halfway up her calf muscle.
As soon as the robot announced the statue round I lifted the skirt and ducked my head under it.
"Oh," she repeated, louder this time, and in contradiction to the rules. Not that I bothered to point that out, as I found myself suddenly in the secret wonderland beneath her skirt. I looked up her long, bare legs to where her thighs came together.
I groaned inwardly. I could see my mom's panties. They were nothing fancy, just a pair of practical cotton briefs the same pale blue as her discarded bra. But they might as well have been the most expensive lingerie available the way my cock responded to them. I could feel a stickiness where precome had discharged inside my boxers.
I could see where her pubic hair pushed out against the thin material and, right between her legs, was a small but, all too obvious wet patch.
A jolt of excitement went through me like a blast from a bolt of lightning. My fingers shook as I reached out to touch her leg. I couldn't help myself then. I placed a kiss on her calf. I felt her body twitch, a clear violation. But I ignored it, kissing my way up the inside of her leg, past her knee to the silken length of her inner thigh.
I was on my knees, still kissing my way up, when her whole body gave a shudder. Her knees started to buckle and I caught her weight as best I could, placing my hands on her hips, my palms nestling into the dimples of flesh besides where her pelvis jutted out. Her hands dropped down and rested on the top of my head, through the fabric of her skirt.
I was just kissing a line up the tender flesh of at the very top of her thigh when I distantly heard the robot beep.
"Finn," she began, hoarsely.
Lifting my mouth from her skin I announced from below, "You moved, so I get a kiss."
"Wait," she started, but I plunged forward. Mouth open, tongue out, I pressed my face into the soft fabric of her panties. I breathed in a deep lungful of her delicious sexual musk. Through the fabric, I kissed her pussy the way I had wanted to kiss her mouth, forcefully and with unabashed passion.
The flesh beneath the material was so wonderfully spongy and responsive to the fat tongue I slathered over it. I heard my mom cry out softly and felt her fingers dig into my scalp through her skirt.
My eager fingers reached up beside my mouth and fumbled with the edge of her panties. If I could just hook my fingers beneath the elastic I could peel it back and expose her hot cunt to my salivating mouth.
"Finn," she gasped and then, pushing down more forcefully on my head, "Finn, stop, baby."
It was my turn to groan as she slipped away from me like a petal on the breeze. I was on my knees, head downcast as her long skirt slipped over me and left me feeling cool and exposed.
"Oh God, Finn. I'm sorry," My mom was covering her mouth, her elbows pressing her delectable breasts flat.
"Sorry? Why?" I gave her a confused look.
"It's just been so long, and I no man since your father..." I could see tears forming in the rim under her eyes.
"Hey," I stood up and went to her side, "Hey. Hey. Relax. It's okay."
"It's not, Finn. What we were doing was wrong. I led you on. I'm sorry. Maybe it's because you look like your dad."
I laughed at this and gave her a hug, saying, "Mom, I look nothing like dad. He was a pasty Irishman." I offered her my tanned arm as proof. "If I look like anyone, I look like you. I don't think that's what this is, mom."
"What is it then?" She asked slightly breathless as I hovered over her, my mouth just inches from hers.
"I don't know,"
"I..."
"No, let me finish. All I know is that I want you more than I have ever wanted anyone. I'm incredibly attracted to you, mom, and I think you are to me."
"But it's wrong."
"Mom, I have been lusting after you since I hit puberty. If it is wrong then it's not our fault, we can't help the way we feel. We can't be blamed for acting on feelings this strong, not if we're not hurting anyone."
"I don't know, Finn," her slim body shifted in my arms.
"I already love you. You are also the most beautiful woman in the world. I want you so bad and I can see you need to be loved, mom. Let me love you." The words all came tumbling out as I held her fragile little body close to me.
"We can't" she began but I cut her off with another kiss.
Her eyes flared wide, then gently closed like feathers drifting to the ground. I pushed my tongue forcefully into her mouth. The stiff resistance melted under the heat of my assault and I felt my mom's tongue move to meet mine. It writhed like an eel disturbed from the depths. It was strong and lithe and tried to curl itself around mine.
When I broke the kiss my mom was panting heavily, her cheeks flushed and her pebbled nipples jabbing into me.
Her lips moved, but no sound came out. Just to be certain I placed a finger over them to silence any further protest. Then I held up the robot again.
"It's a game, mom. Just a beautiful game," I said through kisses I drew up her neck and along her jaw. As she rubbed her head, cat-like, into my affections I tapped the button of the robot.
"Find...color...gol..."
"Color...gre..."
"Color...yell..."
I kept cycling through the colors until it finally announced, "Find... color... pink."
My mom's eyes opened again, their depthless black pools alive with nervous energy. I grinned wolfishly and tossed the robot aside before wrapping one arm possessively around her middle. Face on to her, I stooped, my hand frantically tugging at the folds of her skirt, hiking it up. I kissed erratically across her chest. More by chance than by design one of her nipples popped into my mouth and I sucked down hard just as my hand found its way under her skirt and began climbing up her smooth thigh.
Aware of her confusion and the fine line I walked, I moved quickly. My hand arrowed a path under her skirt, past her panties and then my hand turned, fingers dipping under the waistband. I could not help biting down with sharp teeth on her nipple as I felt the thick, coarse hair covering her mound entwining my fingers. My mom gasped out in a mix of pleasure and pain, but when her hands grabbed me they pulled my face hard into her chest.
My fingers dove down until they found her groove, then it was like a waterpark ride bottoming out at the end of a slide. My fingers seemed to hiss across a liquid surface, slowing and sinking into mushy flesh. My mom's inner pink folds were so drenched for me. I let out a low growl in the back of my throat.
Desperately I rubbed into her slit. The elastic of her panties fought and constrained me, my hand beat like a trapped bird against its confines. Finally, frustrated and boiling over with excitement, I ripped my hand free, snapping her panties back into place, before grabbing her rudely under the arms. I hoisted her slender frame and carried her easily over to where four small desks were pushed together in a group.
She said nothing as I laid her out gently across the desks, kicking two of the chairs out of the way.
"Finn," she breathed, as I took her ankles and hoisted them up so that her legs were pointed straight to the ceiling and pressed to my chest. But she did not stop me as I bustled her puffed-up skirt out of the way and reached my hands under the material, taking hold of her panties.
"Ah!" She cried as I dragged the small blue bundle out from under her ass and up her legs. I pulled them up until I could slip one foot through a loop. Then, with her panties still dangling from one ankle, I pushed her legs down and apart. Her face was a mix of desire and uncertainty. Her voluminous skirts had bunched around her hips and groin and these I picked up and flung upwards until her bared sex glistened wetly before me, like a ripe fruit peeking out through foliage.
I took her thighs firmly in my hands and held them as I knelt between her legs. I stared hard at her vulva. She had a wonderfully thick bush of tightly curled black hair that ended just above an exquisite set of dark pink folds which glistened under the fluorescent lights over her classroom. Already liquid was trickling out of her entrance down the short distance to her tiny, pursed pucker.
She might have said something then, but I did not hear it. Instead, I dove face-first into her luscious pussy.
"F-F-F-Finn!" She aspirated as my tongue squished its way between fat folds of warm pussy flesh. I tasted her on my tongue, tart and completely moreish. It awoke a ravenous hunger within me and I buried my face deeper. Her juices smeared across my face as her pussy opened to me. I could feel her desire running down my cheeks and dripping off my chin.
My tongue delved into secret folds and prodded sensitive flesh with its tip. She let out a long moan as I drew a line up her slit to the apex of her sex. Her untrimmed bush tickled my nose as I bumped her clitoris with the flat of my tongue.
Lost in rapture, she squirmed her back on the desks as my hands traveled up her stomach. They found the barest swell of soft flesh where her small breasts were flattened against her chest. Her big nipples crushed like ripe berries under my fingers, I groped her while I sucked out the liquid that seeped from the walls of her peeled back sex.
While my hands clumsily massaged her bead-like nipples I lapped into her tender nook. I lowered my nibbling lips down until I was kissing her tight entrance. My cock stiffened painfully at the awareness that this was the same passage through which I had entered this world and now I was filling my mouth with its sticky cream.
"Oh, God!" She cried, back-arching, nearly tipping over the desks beneath her. I steadied them with an arm before bringing it back to paw roughly at her breast. I plumped the flesh in my palm, letting the nipple push between two of my fingers and then closing them like a vice.
My mom grunted in her throat as I lapped back up to where I felt a bulb of swollen flesh. As soon as my tongue touched it her whole body spasmed.
I don't know if it was because she had been so long without a loving touch, or whether it was the wrongness of being eaten out by her son in her own kindergarten class, but my mom was already primed to detonate.
I was so excited to have her mewling her pleasure before me that I could not deny her the climax she had bubbling just beneath the surface.
I sucked her clit into my mouth and tongued it rapidly.
Her hips bucked up into my face. Her leg kicked a small chair halfway across the classroom, sending the beads that were still on the floor rolling in all directions.
She buried her hands in my hair and pulled me deeper into her spread cunt. With her arms straight against her sides, her peaked breasts were forced together and up and I was able to knead more forcefully into the small mounds.
I laid my tongue out flat and slathered up and down over her quivering nub. I could feel my mom's nails digging into my scalp as she began to twitch and shudder.
Her climax hit her hard and fast. I was attacking her with broad tongue strokes, while my fingers pinched down on her fat nipples, when I felt her muscle control go.
The desks she was on started to clank and rock as her body shook convulsively. She took fistfuls of my hair and forcibly smudged my face across her liquid sex. My lips could feel her muscles beneath the fragile tissue cramp into tight fists of pleasure, release and then cramp again.
Her orgasm played out like a symphony. I was so zoned into her pleasure for once I could appreciate it like a true aficionado. It was not just the pleasant melody I heard but the sound of each contributing instrument. Her muscles were the string section, stretched tight and vibrating. Her cries were the woodwind, shrill and rising. Her nerve endings were the brass, trumpeting each blast of pleasure loud enough to deafen all other senses. Lastly, her heart played percussion, beating a rapid pulse which rose to a crashing crescendo.
At its peak every section played out loud, trying to outdo the others. It wracked her poor body and flooded my mouth with liquid. It rose, grew quiet for a beat then rose louder. Under my conduction it continued like this until her body could take no more. Exhausted nerve endings shut down and her body grew numb from overstimulation. As I licked the last few spasms out of her it felt like my ears were still ringing from the crashing finale, while she lay sprawled out on the desks, limp and gasping for breath.
"My God," she panted, "I never... I never..."
Sensing my window of opportunity was narrow, I moved swiftly. My mother, in her substantial afterglow, was still spread unselfconsciously before me. Her skirt formed a billowy band across her middle and flowed out beneath her still twitching body.
Her pussy and all the flesh surrounding it down to about mid-thigh was shiny with fluids. Her folds, slackened and much abused, were misaligned, and still unfurled around her entrance, as if in invitation.
I flipped open my belt, button and fly in a second and in the next was stepping out of them, naked. My cock stood proud, thick and well coated with the precome I had been leaking into my boxers.
My mom looked up at me through heavily hooded eyes as I positioned myself between her legs. I could sense her rising hesitation. This was the final level of indecency and I was still uncertain she had the nerve to follow through. I had no such qualms, I was committed now, for me there was no going back. I needed to take possession of her cunt, to occupy it and mark it permanently as mine.
With some effort, I bent my shaft down. It resisted like it had an iron rod at its core. As it kissed the soft petals of her sex I let out a groan. She stiffened slightly and repositioned herself on the desks. Uncertainty had returned to her expression, but I was in no mood to pay it heed.
In a slow, but forceful movement I stooped and shoved into her. I gasped at her warmth and tightness. Her sopping sheath resisted me at first, but I fed my cock into her inch by inch.
It felt incredible, tighter than girls even my own age. It was like trying to push through warm toffee. Progress was possible but slow and gorgeously warm and gooey.
As I docked into her I felt her sheath gripping me like a set of massaging hands. It was too much for my overhyped senses. Layer upon layer of arousal was stacked up in this single moment. There was her beauty, my love for her, the taboo of her being my mom, the wrongness of doing this in a kindergarten classroom, the age difference between us and, oh yeah, did I mention that she was my mom?!
I felt come boiling up in my balls. Though I fought it, it frothed frantically at the base of my cock, begging for release. Teeth clenched, eyes popping, I must have looked like someone who had suffered a fatal gunshot wound, as I tried to stave off my almost immediate capitulation.
"Finn?" My mom questioned, a little concern furrowing her brow.
"Shit," I grunted, "Don't move, mom. I'm really close. Just give me a second to recover. Stay still." I took a deep couple of breaths before adding, "Statue still."
"Oh God," she moaned, as she clutched the edges of the desks and tilted her head back. Whether she intended to do it or not, her slight movement on the outside had a catastrophic effect on the inside. Her vagina clamped down and wrung me out like it was applying a Chinese-burn to my dick.
"Fuck!" I cried, feeling the dam wall breach, "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I'm coming!" With that I threw my head back and felt every muscle in my body lock together like pieces of chainmail. What felt like a dizzy spell started in my head and prickled its way down my body until it detonated in my testicles.
"Ah!" I cried out, letting out other meaningless syllables as I felt the first blast of come explode out the tip of my cock. I was so deep inside my mom's tiny pussy I must have fired point-blank into her clenched cervix.
This was followed by a second and then a third blast of stinging hot come that pasted her internal walls. The very act of pumping my seed into my mother's unprotected canal seemed to increase both my pleasure and the volume of my climax. My body cramped painfully, contorting like a puppet with its strings tangled, as more and more thick come glooped out of me and filled my mother's already cramped passage past capacity.
Even as I convulsed and the last few blobs were wrung from me by her contracting sheath, apparently starving for all I could give her, my excess come seeped out between her stretched, sucking entrance and my still hard cock.
"Jesus, mom," I groaned, "I'm sorry, I couldn't... Jesus."
"It's okay, baby," she soothed, "It's okay." She sounded breathless and a little mystified at what she had just let happen.
"But it's not," I panted, grimacing slightly at the still slightly painful muscle cramps that still twinged in my belly and groin.
She gave a quizzical look as I levered my cock out of her with a sucking slurp. Her pussy leaked like a pot of spilled cream, semen running out over her ass cheeks and thighs, soaking into the skirt beneath her.
"You moved," I grinned, perhaps a little cruelly, as I mopped the back of one hand across my brow.
"Huh?"
"You moved when I told you to stay still, that's why I came inside you. You owe me a kiss," I stepped back and moved around the desks to her side.
My cock had lost some of its stiffness, so I had to take in my hand and lift it as it tried to wilt down to my thighs. I brought its flopping head up into the eye line of my mother. I watched her eyes widen as she realized my implication. Unwittingly a sliver of pink tongue darted out and wet her bottom lip. This gave me the confidence to push her even further in our twisted little game.
"A kiss," I growled, dangling my cock, still dripping with my come and her juices, an inch from her face. Her eyes darted around nervously between my cock, my face, the classroom, out the window to the still empty parking lot, and back to my looming cock.
I let the tip lower gradually. She did not flinch back and I let out another groan as it touched down on her plump lips. Come painted their brightly covered surface, smearing them with a wet sheen. Concern played across her brow and then, as I watched, this smoothed out and I saw her lips pucker into a soft cushion for the head of my cock.
"Yes!" I marveled as she kissed me with a soft smack. I felt something tug sharply internally, beneath my balls. She sucked at my tip, draining off our combined desires between pursed lips. The tug came again and I was astonished to feel a resurgence in my already spent cock.
When her lips parted and my cock sank into her hungry mouth I whimpered with the beauty of it. Those red lips contrasting with the white teeth which bit down just hard enough to mark my puffy glans.
She slurped my come and her juices off me with a growing need. I was astonished to see my cock move. It was like a boxer who had been given the eight count, slowly rising to his feet. Shaky and weakened from a near knock-out blow, but readying itself for another round.
"Fuuuuck," I breathed out as her lips closed around the hood of my cock and she began to suck on me in earnest. I looked down over my mom's tight little body. Her stomach was concaved from being stretched out on her back. Her breasts would have been barely perceptible, if not for the swollen nipples which begged for attention. Her pussy was still exposed, her bush glistening sleekly with wetness. My come had leaked out of her and formed a puddle under her ass.
Lazily, feeling like a God, I dipped a finger into the pool of white semen and carried a blob over to my stiffening cock. My mom's eye opened and tracked the finger as I lowered it and daubed a blob of the thick goo on the side of my cock. Her eyes widened as they met my challenging gaze, and then returned to my length. To my immense satisfaction, her mouth nibbled up the side of my shaft and gobbled up the come, before returning to suckling on my tip.
Grinning I repeated the action, this time with two fingers. The generous dollop I plopped onto the top of my shaft slid down my slick length and was lapped up my mom's ravenous tongue. This lithe muscle, in between devouring my come and fluttering over my sensitive tip, continued to massage the underside of my cock.
I shook my head, hardly able to believe how quickly she had brought me back to rigidity. When I ran out of come to feed her I stroked her taut body with the hand I wasn't using to keep my cock pointed down into her hot, wet mouth.
I found her breasts, plumping them and teasing her nipples to even harder nubs than they had been before. This started a wonderful humming in her throat that tingled through my cock.
If she had been uncertain before she more than made up for it now. She slurped at my cock like a melting lolly in the hot sun. When I had tortured her breasts long enough that she was mewling in the back of her throat, I slid my hand over her skirt, down her abdomen and into the forest of damp curls.
The raw skin of her pussy was so hot it felt like my fingers got scalded when I touched her. She cooed happily as I sank my hand into the forgiving flesh and alleviated her building tension with attentive rubs.
My fingers sought out, and soon found, the tight ring of muscle around her entrance. While she sucked on my cock I buried two fingers into her, curling them and massaging her silky interior.
My cock popped from her mouth as she gasped out her enjoyment. As I guided myself back into her welcoming opening I began to pump my fingers in and out of her. She was already slick with her own lubrication, but was made even more so by the residue of semen I had basted her with.
I could feel she was ready and I knew if I let her keep going my cock I would flood her mouth in a very short time. While that seemed like a very good option, I knew I had not yet done all I could to take ownership of her pussy. I may have filled it with my seed, but now I needed to feel it quiver its pleasure around me.
When she opened her big dark eyes to stare at her son, up the length of his cock, I pulled my fingers from her cunt. I loved how her surrounding thin membrane clung to me, forcing me to yank my fingers free with a gentle "pop."
As she watched, I brought the fingers up to my mouth and sucked off her juices, not caring that my own were mixed in there. I needed to have her taste on my tongue again.
Her nervous expression was gone now, all I saw when I looked in her eyes was need.
It made me chuckle and say, "Okay, mom. I'm ready again." She seemed reluctant to let go of my cock though and suckled at it greedily as I tried to pull back.
Finally with another audible pop I jerked free from her pursed lips. My cock was drenched with her saliva, and glistened in the light. It was perfect for shoving back into her pulsating sheath.
I moved back to between her legs, but this time I took hold of her skirt. There was no objection as I tugged it down. In fact, she lifted her ass so that I could slide it out from under her. I enjoyed a view no son usually ever has of his own mother, namely a close up of her dripping pussy and that tiny pucker of an anus.
When she lay back naked on the clanking desks I took in all of her flawless beauty. She widened her thighs, chewing her lip and eyeing my painfully swollen cock. Then I was back between her legs, my cock aimed at her center. I wasted little time directing my pleasure spike to thread her small aperture. This time, although I felt every inch of her incredible tightness, there was even less resistance. I plunged into her, forcing her flesh to part where it had seemingly cleaved together. She gave a cry and threw her arms back to tangle in her mass of dark hair which had, in all the activity, come loose and spread out around her like a cloak.
I was not just satisfied to be in her though. As I squeezed my way into the very deepest part of her, I slid my arms up her sides and under her shoulders. Then I was lifting her bodily off the table. She came willingly, still impaled to her swollen lips on my adamantine pole.
She was so petite it was almost no effort to hold her weight while I stood, legs apart, in the middle of her reading mat. We were eye to eye now, our bodies pressed together. I could feel her hard nipples jabbing into my chest. She looked so young and innocent in that moment I could not resist a kiss.
Our lips touched and I tasted a mixture of our flavors on her tongue. She kissed me back, shyly at first, but then with increasing ardor as I began to bounce her up and down on my length.
We did it slowly at first, working together to impale her repeatedly on my stiffened member. The angle was great, helping to open her up and letting me slide with even greater ease into her cunt. Her legs wrapped around my hips and I had my hands cupping her narrow, but firm ass cheeks.
After a couple of minutes I felt the strain and, still kissing and still humping, I carried her a couple of halting strides over to her bulletin board. I pinned her there, against a sign welcoming children to her class and a collection of laminated names. With her back to the wall, I was able to shove into her more forcefully. Holding her in place I moved my hips rapidly, pistoning my cock in and out of her dripping entrance.
She broke our kiss to let out a long moan that spoke of her years of loneliness. Then I felt her mouth move to the side of my head and I heard her heavy breathing, hot in my ear. She nibbled at my earlobe and then down my neck, kissing me as I fucked her as hard as I could.
My groin was slapping into hers, my balls bouncing up to smack her perineum. Her ass was coming back at me off the wall like a racquetball each time I pounded into her.
"F-F-F-Finn," she stuttered out as she jiggled uncontrollably under my onslaught.
"G-G-Gonna C-" Here her voice hitched and there followed a long period of silence where all I heard was the slap of flesh on flesh as I pummeled her pussy.
"-C-Coooooooooome" she wailed as her body convulsed in my arms. Her pussy clamped down hard on my cock and her arms and legs constricted me so tightly I could no longer fuck her. All I could do was hold her up as she shivered her pleasure up and down my length. She bit down hard on my neck, just above my shoulder blade, and I felt a little drool run down my back.
When I tilted her back she slumped heavily against the wall, her eyelids looking heavy, her slight bosom heaving with the effort to return air to her lungs. I grinned like a fool, incredibly proud that I had made my beautiful mom come so hard on my cock.
"Yes," she panted, "Yes. That was... wow." She went limp, trying, it seemed, to slip out of my embrace so that she could take a moment to rest, but I was not done with her. Not yet.
"Finn?" She questioned, sounding a little tired, as I pulled her close to me again and took a step back from the wall.
"I'm just getting started," I growled soft and low into her ear as I took a step back.
She let out a groan I was not sure was from pleasure or exhaustion. Probably there was an element of both. I carried her to her desk, a large white, plastic-coated thing that had a computer and a whole lot of printing and cutting she had been busy with earlier.
Lifting her off my cock, I dropped her onto her wobbly legs and swept a hand across her desk. The papers and laminated sheets poured onto the floor, as did staples and thumbtacks and a whole lot of other random teacher paraphernalia.
"Hey!" My mom protested, as I took her naked body by the shoulders and turned her towards the desk. She offered little resistance as I used a firm hand to bend her over to lay chest down on the newly cleared space next to her computer screen.
"Relax," I replied, "I'll help you tidy it up later. First I have to make you come again."
"Finn, I'm not sure," she started, then paused as I rubbed my slippery cock through her pussy and between her ass cheeks, up to her tiny asshole, "Not after I just, you know."
"We'll just have to see about that, won't we?" While I spoke I continued to massage up and down her crack with my dick, "Why don't we make a game of it? You do love a game."
"What are we playing for? You're already buying lunch."
"Fine, not lunch. How about, if I make you come again before I do then you promise that we get to play this particular game," and I emphasized my point by drawing a wet circle around her crinkle of an asshole with my dick, "Again sometime soon."
"Finn," she shifted her hips.
"No," I stalled her, "I know you, mom. As soon as this is over you are going to start second-guessing yourself. You are going to freak out and start telling yourself this was wrong."
"It is wrong," she said, lips mushed against her hand.
"So wrong," she repeated as I socketed the tip of my cock in the cup of her entrance.
"It's only wrong if someone gets hurt, mom. I love you. I love your body. I think your body loves me," I proved my point by sliding two fingers between her oily folds and pinching her clit so that she was forced to gasp.
"I want to keep doing this with you. Our bodies want us to keep doing this. They need us to. Can't you feel it? I don't want you to let sentiment and cultural conservatism get in the way of something this wonderful."
As I tried to persuade her I pressed more and more insistently at her cunt, feeling it strain to accommodate my girth.
"So," I spoke through gritted teeth as I felt myself slot into her and that tight, encompassing tissue wrapped itself around me, "If I make you come again, then I want you to promise that you will let this happen again. As I said, I know you better than anyone, mom, and the one thing you will never do is renege on a deal."
"Fine," she gasped as I slid all the way back in. She groaned at the satisfaction of having my cock fill her once more. I was surprised by how easy it was to get my mom to agree. Perhaps my cock was inducing the same needs in her that her pussy was creating in me.
"Fine, what?"
"Fine, if you make me come, we can," she panted out a little breath before she winced slightly and finished, "Oh God... we can do this again."
"Alright," I sighed, taking her small ass cheeks in my palms and kneading their firmness as I stroked myself in and out of her dripping entrance. "That will be just fine."
I felt more in control now, less lost to my animal desires than when I had her pinned to the wall. I knew now that this would not be my last time. If I could make her need my cock there was every chance I could keep this going for years, longer even, if I had my will.
I fucked her on her own desk with slow, carefully considered thrusts. It gave me lots of time to appreciate her beautiful unblemished ass, which had just the right amount of squish and jiggle to make bumping into it immensely satisfying.
While I worked I continued to massage beneath her, fingering the bud of her clit, still hard and still begging to be played with. Though I had begun this encounter shamefully, losing my control in the whirl of unexpected passion today had brought, I had mastered myself now.
I was the puppeteer pulling at her strings and she responded with exquisite precision. Sooner than either I or she expected she was huffing and puffing her way to her next climax.
Her legs shook, her ass wobbled slightly and her pussy gasped around my cock.
A rictus grin of victory overtook my face as I slammed harder and harder into her quivering cheeks. She was going to come and I was going to have my way. Of all the games we played today this was definitely the one to win.
My mom cried out, her hand moving off the desk to cover her mouth as she shouted her pleasure again. It must have been doubly wicked for her, to be fucked by her son brutally over her desk at school, in a room normally filled with her students. Perhaps that was why she came so readily again.
Suddenly her ass shot back into me. Her back arched, lifting her chest up off the desk where her tits had been crushed under her body. Teeth bared and head lifted, she made a whining sound in her throat as her body wound itself tighter and tighter around me.
The desk shook with each one of my powerful thrusts from behind and her computer screen wobbled dangerously close to the edge.
Then she snapped loose from whatever had kept her pleasure bound up all these years with a roar. She flopped forward onto the desk and shook like a landed fish as I punched the last few strokes of pleasure deep into her core. Her orgasm shook her body to jelly.
She was panting again, boneless in her exhaustion, sprawled out on the desk and seemingly incapable of movement. It only made me want more.
She was like a ragdoll when I slid out of her and flipped her over onto her back. Her chest heaved, her stomach undulated, her knees looked liable to buckle. Juices drooled out of her abused pussy. I admired her with grim satisfaction. I could hardly believe I had brought my mother to this condition.
"Fuck," she aspirated, "too much... been so long since I had... and with a teenager... fuck."
"Still not done," I chuckled, mopping my brow again. My body was dripping with sweat, but it was still wound tight and ready to uncoil.
"Can't... too... shattered. Leave me... to...die. Old...woman... here."
"Ha," I barked slapping her firm thigh, before gripping it hard and using it to pull her body to the edge of the table, "You're a beautiful, young woman. It's just been a long time since someone reminded you of that."
With that, I stooped down and slung her limp body over my shoulder.
"Finnley!" She squeaked as I tossed her lightly into a more comfortable position before bracketing the action with a resounding slap on her bare ass.
"Where are you taking me?" She said, some of her breath returning
"You have been very bad. Calling yourself old, trying to quit the game before it's over. You need to go to the naughty corner."
"I told you, it's not called that anymore. It's the 'contemplation nook.'
I snorted as I strode across her classroom, "I'm going to contemplate your nook."
"Finnley!" She squawked, both in admonishment and in surprise as I dropped her naked bottom onto the large beanbag in the back corner of her classroom.
Her small body sank into the big cushion with a whoosh of rushing beads and I really did take a moment to contemplate her extraordinary beauty as she lay there in a jumbled heap of limbs and loose hair. Standing above her I stroked my overly engorged member as I looked her over. This seemed to make her shy again and when I saw her start to curl into herself I grabbed her upper arm and stopped her.
"Never think you have to be ashamed to be naked before me, mom. You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," As I spoke I sank down to my knees in front of the beanbag.
"Oh, Finn," She replied, a glimmer of tears in her eyes, "You don't know how good it feels to be loved like this, after so long. I just... I just."
"Ssh!" I silenced her with a kiss, which she met hungrily. There was no doubt or hesitation left in her now. She was acclimated to this insane situation and I intended to keep her that way.
I leaned into her and she sank back into the beanbag. She hugged herself close to me, sandwiching my cock between our bodies, and kissed me like she was trying to draw out my soul from within me.
Then I felt her hand leave my shoulders and take hold of my shaft. This time it was she who guided my cock home.
"Yeah," She said between kisses, "Come for me now, baby. Come inside mommy again. Show me how much you love me."
"I love you so much, mom," I replied, as I began to slowly fill her once more.
My poor body was so wracked with tension from holding my climax for so long that I knew I did not have much more to give. But, wrapped in my mom's warm embrace, her loving kisses showering down on me as I slowly stirred her insides with my cock, I felt safer and more secure than I ever had before. I finally felt I could let go and just let the pleasures of my mom's body overwhelm me.
Without any more need to pace myself I began the last hard gallop to my finish. My exhausted mother could only cling onto me and whisper encouragement in my ear.
The excitement of it all must have gotten to her though because, as I rounded the final corner and headed into the straight I felt her body start to rise up to meet mine. She started to ride me, and together we found the pace that would carry us both victorious over the line.
Muscles strained to breaking point, my body frothing with sweat, I threw back my head one last time and cried out my triumph. Seering come lanced once more into her body. The contact of the thick spray on her tender inner walls was what brought her bounding over the line with me.
Her cry was hoarse and her body did not so much shake this time as it went painfully rigid as I speared another jet of seed into her. Her nails dug into my back and she screamed out the orgasm that ripped through her overwrought body.
Even after she managed to unknot her cramped muscles, I was still jabbing into her with diminishing pumps, little spurts of come still leaping out to fill her once more.
Both utterly spent, I collapsed atop her on the bean bag in the back of her classroom. My exhausted cock fought valiantly to stay erect, but gradually subsided and, finally, slipped out of her with a dollop of come.
We lay like that for a long time, clinging to each other like shipwreck survivors. Perhaps that was what we were. We had survived the loss of my dad, but we had never been the same without him. We had survived storms and setbacks and the constant fear that we could lose everything at any moment. The one comfort we had always had was each other and neither of us ever felt it more strongly than in that moment.
As I snuggled into my mom's body and gripped her tight I thought about how I was going to make her feel as loved as she made me feel every day. She was never again going to feel alone or have her needs go unsatisfied.
I was just about to drift off to sleep when I heard her mumble, "Don't think this gets you out of buying me lunch, mister."
"Fine," I sighed, "But don't let it go to your head. Technically you only won the first round."
"Oh yeah? Who won overall then?"
I bent my head to hers and began kissing a line from her ear, across her cheek, to her mouth. Between each peck, I spelled out, "I think we both did."
With that, I met her open mouth and, from the bone-achingly tender kiss she gave me in return, I knew she agreed with all her heart.