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Subject: {ASSM} "Flirting with Exhibitionism and Incest" (7)
Date: Sun, 2 Jul 2000 19:10:03 -0400
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Hello --
Sorry for the long delay in continuing my story. Work has been
extremely hectic. However, I set aside some wee-hours to crank out the
last three sections of "Flirting with Exhibitionism and Incest." The
story is complete. Here is Part Seven. Part Eight (an interlude piece
that is not directly connected to the current story) will follow it
quickly. Part Nine is in slightly rougher shape, so I will revise it
and post it in the next two or three days. After that, I'm off on a
much needed and earned vacation. Shortly after my return, I will post
the first installment of CARLA THE SHOWOFF. Enough preliminaries. On
with the SHOW!
There's often talk about the awkward moments that occur "the morning
after." Well, my mother and I had such a moment -- or two or three --
the morning after she watched me openly masturbate (with her
encouragement) in front of her for the first time.
I was still on break between semesters and Mom had taken some time off
from her part-time receptionist job. Since she only worked fifteen to
twenty hours a week, she could often come and go as she pleased, if she
gave them enough notice. Since the Christmas holidays were upon us, she
had requested the month off.
Carla came over the next day and I revealed all to her. She was in a
frenzy of lust and we made wonderful, passionate love for most of the
afternoon. Then Carla broke the news: her parents had finally decided
to travel out of state to her grandmother's house for the holidays. It
would only be for five days, but we'd been virtually inseparable during
our spare time during the past few months.
"I want you to promise me something, before I go," Carla said that
afternoon.
"What's that?"
"I want you to keep doing what you did in front of your mom," she said.
"Don't stop it. She's opened doors. Take advantage of them."
"But why?" I asked. "You make me happy."
"I know, but knowing that you're doing what you're doing, makes ME
happy."
I stared at her in the soft violet light of late winter afternoon.
"You're a mystery, Carla. I always considered myself an oversexed
daredevil in the sexual arena, but you take the crown."
She giggled and thanked me, then slithered her still moist body atop me,
cupped me below and stroked me to hardness, then impaled herself on my
erection. That last screw before Carla took off was as sweet as any
we'd shared, and far more tender, with her on top, grinding her hips
into ME for a change.
Believe it or not, for the first week of Carla's two week absence,
nothing -- and I mean nothing -- remotely erotic occurred. My sister
became a semi-permanent fixture in the house (she was on public school
vacation), and my father, who regular made the two and three nights a
week trek out of town, stayed much closer to home during the holiday
break.
Then we got over the Christmas and New Year's hurdle (Carla and I spoke
on the phone on Christmas Eve, Christmas Day and had a wonderful mutual
masturbation session in the wee hours of New Year's morning). At that
point, my sis became restless and started spending more and more times
at her friends' houses. And on the Tuesday morning of the new week, my
father left on a four- or five-day trip that wouldn't put him back home
until late Saturday afternoon, he was guessing.
That Tuesday evening, Mom and I had the house to ourselves. I was doing
days at the convenience store, for a co-worker who took his vacation
break the first week of the year. That allowed me to be at home at
night all week.
That first night alone, Mom fixed a terrific spaghetti dinner for us.
It was the first time I had actually dined in the nude. She came to my
door and knocked softly and announced that dinner was ready. I was
sprawled out on my stomach on the bed, reading a book, stark naked. I
asked if she wanted me to dress for dinner, but she said, "Don't be
silly," so I did.
Afterward, we settled on the couch and watched some television. We
debated going out to rent a video or two, but both of us were too
comfortable and lazy after the great meal. Besides, we were more than
halfway through a bottle of merlot and contemplating pulling the cork on
another.
So we channel surfed. Nothing was appealing to me until Mom passed
through a station holding a sports magazine's bikini documentary. I
asked Mom to back it up and she suffered through my watching the babes
on the channel.
As I watched, I felt my member start to throb and grow on my thigh, then
off of it.
Mom giggled. "Somebody misses his girlfriend."
I looked down at myself and grinned. I wasn't completely hard, but I
was thick and growing. "I guess it's pretty obvious, right?"
I continued to watch the gals. There were many shots of legs and barely
there thongs and such, which drove me crazy. I'm an unabashed butt man
and several of the lovelies on the tube had the round flesh globes I so
love to cup.
I suddenly became aware of my hand cupping and tugging at my erection --
and it was an all out erection now. I stopped and apologized.
"Don't," my mother corrected. "Don't apologize and don't stop.
Remember our talk? Do whatever makes you comfortable."
I grabbed my erection at the base and gave it a long, slow stroke.
"You're sure?"
"Positive." She smiled, leaned back and watched me as I watched the TV.
Every now and again she'd look at the tube and ask me about the models.
"Which one's your favorite?"
I'd tell her.
"Why?"
I told her of my love of buns and legs and feet.
"Feet?" Mom laughed and I felt myself blush a bit. Then I laughed too,
at the absurdity of the situation. Here I was, literally naked and
masturbating in front of my mother, and what threw me into
embarrassement? Not my actions but a confession of attraction to pretty
legs and feet.
Mom nudged me playfully with one of her feet. "So, are my peds pretty?"
I grabbed it and examined her pretty crimson-painted toes and then
brought the sole of her foot down on my hard phallus. "Absolutely."
We were both very silent. Somehow, despite the fact that she had seen
me masturbate before and encouraged me to do so and even wiped me clean
afterwards, our actions seemed to cross yet another hurdle this evening.
"You know," my mother said, "I would have never guessed I had such a
kinky and oversexed son."
"Oversexed is right," I said, rubbing my penis harder against her sole.
"Sometimes I feel like I'm thoroughly addicted to sex and cumming.
Sorry for being so candid, but your tolerant nature brings that out in
me. Besides, it's true."
My mother's eyes were half-lidded. She wasn't looking at me, but at her
foot resting atop my throbbing member. Very gently, she pressed down on
it and I felt myself squeezed between her soft foot and my lower
abdomen. Then I fixated on her pretty wiggling toes and I knew that I
would soon be in trouble if this continued. On the other hand, Mom
seemed to have no intention of stopping.
I grabbed her other foot and kissed each toe, examining the fine maroon
polish my mother had so carefully christened each toenail with. Then,
as she continued to press her right sole into my member, I slid her
right big toe and second toe into my mouth and sucked them. She laughed
and tried to pull away but I held firm.
"What are you up to?" she cried.
I slid my lips up and down her toes. "Same thing you are," I mumbled.
She arched eyebrows and stared quizzically.
"I'm giving you a toe job."
We both giggled but she never completely stopped her rubbing and my
erection was massive by now. I grabbed it and slid it between her toes
and she squeezed it hard between her first and second digits and the
head shone crimson between them.
"I'm going to explode soon," I said.
"Do it, Tony," she said. "Go for it! Here!" Mom placed both feet side
by side on the couch just underneath my erection. She wiggled her
pretty toes at me. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but what the hell:
I've made you a cum tray. Now use it."
Hearing her speak like that -- so unusual for my mother -- pushed me
over the edge. I reached below me, fondled my anus, then knelt above
Mom's feet.
I looked at her and our eyes locked. "Do it," she whispered.
I did it. I came and came all over her pretty feet, drenching them and
her toes and afterward, she lifted her feet and trapped my still
throbbing and oh so sensitve phallus between her soles and my stomach
and rubbed the underside of my shaft. "Just making sure we got every
drop of that therapeautic lotion out of the dispenser," she said and
that set us off in a fit of laughter.
But I didn't laugh as I watched Mother use her hands to rub my cum all
over her feet, as though it really was lotion. Incredibly, I felt
myself stir with desire once again. But as they say, the spirit was
most definitely willing, but my flesh was weak.
For the moment.
Take care, and more to come asap!
Tony Reeno
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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