A Firm Resolution

Monday helped me clear my mind a little, as there was a big assignment that we had to turn in the following week. I spent some time in the library and got home later than usual, though to be honest, a large part of that was due to my reluctance to face my mother. I must have appeared distant and aloof -- something that certainly puzzled her, I know. But I was too preoccupied with trying to figure out what I was to do to actually care about anything else. I don't even remember what Mom had been wearing that evening, even though I vaguely recall it was skimpy and frilly. She was playing along, but I wasn't. I didn't linger much downstairs, and eventually fled to my room.

I ended up online, trying to find someone to talk to and discuss the whole affair. I didn't have much hope about it -- in fact, I was probably cursed, since whenever I was looking to 'score' in order to deal with a sudden surge of horniness, I usually couldn't even strike up a single conversation, and was left more frustrated afterwards than I had been to begin with. I wasn't so unlucky that night, but nothing really helpful came out of the few exchanges I had. For sure, my story was definitely deemed 'super hot' and I was advised (on more than one occasion) to act on it and turn my mother into my personal sex slave -- but I had the impression these suggestions were mostly the other person fantasizing out loud, rather than actually looking to give me something to work with.

Even if that was what I had to consider -- I had never really been a fan of what I had seen of the BDSM community, with their leather and their chains and their spanking and their 'Master'-calling. All of this felt too theatrical to me, and somewhat ridiculous. Nevertheless, it got me thinking about what I really wanted, and how I wanted it. And when I finally headed to bed, I had the beginnings of an answer.

*****

Over the following days, I decided to act as if the events triggered by my original outburst had not happened. Back to being roommates, more or less -- at least on my part. I could feel Mom's confusion and worry about my unexpected change, but that was exactly what I wanted. So I made a point of being cold and terse in my replies to her questions, and stopped altogether checking her outfits. Not that she needed any help by that time -- I guess it had then become a part of the strange game between us, allowing me to encourage her to be more daring. But with that little ritual gone, I noticed Mom trying to get my attention back, with her clothes becoming more and more revealing as the days went by. For instance, on Thursday, she had on a white tank-top from which her heavy breasts were literally bursting out, and white stockings that stopped at mid-thigh -- and nothing else. There was something intoxicating in her being that exposed around me, and yet I stuck to my plan, and barely glanced at her.

Finally, as we were sharing a rather silent breakfast in the kitchen on Friday morning, I negligently told her: "Oh, Mom, by the way -- I won't be able to make it for our Sunday date, I've got other plans for the week-end. Next time, okay?" I shrugged and smiled and got back to my bowl of cereal, noticing in the corner of my eyes how disappointed she was -- her shoulders slumping and her face distraught. I left for the U a little later, feeling somewhat guilty that I was having her going through these phases. But I had a plan, and I was hoping that in the end, it would work out for the best for the both of us.

I waited until the middle of the afternoon to text her. "What about doing our date tonight? I'll pick you home at seven." I closed my phone, and didn't even wait for her reply. I drove home, took a shower and changed, then headed out again. I stopped by a coffee place I knew of but never went to kill time until the evening. I felt way too nervous to be around any of my friends, and sitting by myself in a corner while pretending to read something on my tablet was all I could really muster.

After an eternity, it was time. I paid my coffee, went to the bathroom for a last check, and finally drove home. Mom was waiting for me sitting in the living room. She stood up when I got inside, something of a worried look on her face. She was dressed nicely, with a long skirt and a white blouse, with a shawl on her shoulders. I smiled at her and offered up my arm to lead her to my car. I was in a playful mood, and was somehow reminded of our first "date" together -- her kind of apprehensive and me trying to cheer her up. I had chosen a nice restaurant -- fancy, but not too fancy, if you see what I mean. I wanted it to be a treat, but I certainly didn't want to have the waiter come around and barge in on our conversation all the time. Because we certainly did have some talking to do.

I parked the car and led us to the entrance. We had a table in a quiet space, and overall the mood was cozy and warm. I made pleasantries and we chatted about our respective days while checking out the menu, but an awkward silence fell over us after the waiter had come taking our order. I took a deep breath, and looking at Mom straight in the eyes, I started talking.

"Okay, Mom, I guess there's something of an elephant in the room. (she nodded) And it's been around for some time now, so that's why I thought it would be nice to -- you know, to talk."

She nodded again, still looking apprehensive. I continued.

"Things have been a little strange between us recently, and... and I don't like that. I want things to be fine, to be great between us, Mom. So I've been thinking. Considering what I wanted, for me, for you -- I've come to a decision. You know, I keep thinking back on what happened last Sunday. And wondering how it happened. What went wrong? How did it come to -- to that?"

"Baby, I'm sorry..."

"Let me finish, Mom, please."

She nodded, and I took another deep breath.

"I want to be clear: I'm not saying it's your fault, Mom. I'm probably as much to blame in all this. I didn't like the way you were, and I guess I wanted to help. And maybe I did -- I hope I did. I mean, I remember calling you a slob (she winced), and honestly, Mom, you were. But not anymore. I've seen heads turning when we got in here."

She blushed a little, and flashed me a timid smile. I continued.

"I like that. I mean, it's proof that things have changed for the better. So yes, I'm sorry about -- about this whole week. But I also wanted to be sure that I wasn't going to make a rash decision, in the heat of the moment. And honestly, with what you've been wearing, that hasn't been easy..."

I smiled, and Mom let out a chuckle. "So you did notice..."

"Yes, Mom. I did notice. And it took a lot of self-control for me not to -- well, not to reenact what happened last Sunday."

She bit her lower lip, and let out a whisper: "I enjoyed last Sunday..."

I looked away, closing my eyes. Then I looked back at her.

"Mom, as I said, I've been thinking. And... well, I guess I have come up with some rules -- two, actually. Rules for you. (she nodded) I've tried to make them simple and to the point. So here we go..."

I paused, preparing myself for what amounted to a leap of faith, and noticed how Mom was intent and listening to me. I don't think any of us was aware of our surroundings then. I jumped right in.

"First rule: when you're around me, nothing should cover your pussy."

At first speechless, she eventually frowned. "What about crotchless panties, then?"

"They're okay."

A big smile. "Oh, good. And what's the other rule?"

"My cum always ends up in your mouth."

She paused, looked down, then simply said: "Could you excuse me a minute?"

She stood and walked away, leaving me puzzled and worried. I suddenly felt very much alone, the restaurant bustling with its usual activity around me.

After what seemed an eternity, she came back and sat in front of me. She had a smile on her lips, and handed me something across the table.

"Keep them for me, please, baby."

I opened my hand -- discovering a pair of lacy white panties. I looked up at her, and she smiled again. I pocketed the panties, noticing some dampness on them. I smiled back.

"So what do you think of this place?"

"It's okay... (she looked around) I mean, it's nice, but I don't mind something simple, you know? Like the place we go to on Sundays..."

I shook my head. "See? I take you somewhere fancy, and that's how you thank me? (she giggled) I wanted to make things special..."

"Believe me, baby, it *is* special..." She smiled.

"Yeah, I guess this evening is going rather well... so far."

"Ha ha. So what are those plans you have for the week-end that you had to cancel this ancestral family tradition of the Sunday date with me?"

It was my turn to smile. "There wasn't anything, really. I just wanted to keep you on your toes, you know?"

"And that you did. I was really confused... you must have thought me desperate. Between my disappointment when you told me that, and the way I was trying to get your attention by dressing... the way I did..."

I reach out across the table and put my hand on hers.

"Mom, stop there. I never thought anything like that. As I said, I needed some space to think. And I know it was a little cruel to cancel the date with you like that, but I really wanted to surprise you with tonight."

She smiled. "The big night?"

"Something like that. I mean, I didn't know what to expect..."

"Really? That didn't show, baby."

"I spent most of the afternoon rehearsing my little speech, that helped."

"What, you were really stressed out for that?"

"Of course, Mom."

"That's so cute, baby..."

I frowned. "Why do you say that?"

"Considering what had happened on Sunday, not to mention the previous weeks... how could you imagine this going any other way?"

I shook my head. "I don't know. I guess it's not every day that I make this kind of proposition..."

She smiled. "I would hope so. But maybe that's just something you say to every girl..."

I sighed. "Mom, don't be silly. This is special -- you're special. And I want to keep it that way between us."

"I know, baby. Believe me, I know."

We were interrupted by the waiter as he was bringing the starters. I exchanged a look with Mom as the descriptions of what was in our plates droned on and on, and we barely managed to keep a straight face. When he finally left, we were overcome with laughter, so much that I had to wipe tears from my eyes. To be honest, it felt good -- very good. Mom's eyes were sparkling, her smile was dazzling, and she looked positively radiant. After all the tension of this past week, it was as if a huge weight had been lifted off my chest.

So I finally let myself enjoy that evening, and we chatted as we ate, often laughing, sometimes pausing, but there was never any awkwardness to our silences. We were on a date, and things were going well. It's only when the time to leave came that some tension reappeared -- because, well, we were on a date, and when things are going well, there's always the question of what happens next. But for us, it wasn't so much indecision and hesitation as anticipation.

The drive back home was quiet -- and thankfully short. When I opened the front door and let Mom in, my heart was beating like crazy in my chest. She quickly went upstairs. I headed for the kitchen to grab two glasses of wine. I put them on the coffee table in the living room, and waited. I had taken my jacket off and rolled up the sleeves of my shirt, hoping for a "classy casual" look or something. I was checking myself out in the mirror, trying to radiate self-confidence, and was rather satisfied with the result. That is, until she came down the stairs.

She had put on a white, lacy top, with long-sleeves and a V-neck that clung to her incredible breasts. And she was wearing matching stockings that stopped at mid-thigh. She had tied her hair up in a loose ponytail, and she had a simple, white choker around her neck. She looked perfect.

I tried to regain my composure, grabbed the wine glasses and handed her one, smiling.

"Wow, Mom -- you look incredible. Are we celebrating something tonight?"

She giggled. "Maybe..."

"Damn, had I known, I would have opened some Champagne! (I chuckled) Though that would have made the whole thing look very much like a wedding, don't you think? With you all dressed in white and all..."

I noticed her biting her lower lip, and wondered how long I would be able to maintain this kind of banter before I couldn't resist anymore. My cock was rock hard in my pants, and I was just dying to shove it deep in her mouth.

I raised my glass: "So, a toast?"

"Sure."

"To new beginnings..."

I slowly drained my glass, making the moment last a little longer -- enjoying the growing nervous anticipation that was definitely filling the silence between us. Finally, I put the empty glass on the table and sat down on the sofa. Mom bent down to put her glass next to mine, and that's when I put a hand on her ass. She froze, closing her eyes and biting her lower lip again.

I let my hand rest there for a long minute, and then, very slowly, I let it slide, following her curves, until my fingers met her mound. I teased her a little, fluttering against her skin, before I finally pushed my middle finger inside. She opened like a flower, dripping and ready. I smiled. With my other hand, I started undoing the buttons on my pants. Mom heard me and opened her eyes, watching my every move hungrily. When I finally managed to let my hard cock out, she bit her lower lip again. Her eyes were pleading.

"Mom, come here", I motioned her to kneel on the sofa, next to me. Turning a little towards her, I put my hand on her breast, caressing it, squeezing it through the lacy fabric. Then my hand moved up, following the line of her shoulder, until it was resting against the nape of her neck. Softly, I urged her down, guiding her towards my cock. She sighed. As her face was inches from my crotch, I whispered: "And now, Mom... suck me dry." She moaned and looked at me. "Yes, baby", she whispered back, and gave my cock a loving lick. I slid my hand back to her pussy, pushing two fingers in, taking her by surprise -- and suddenly her mouth was engulfing me, ravenously.

I gasped. With my other hand, I started caressing her hanging breasts -- so full and heavy against my palm. But as incredible as they felt, I was fascinated by this beautiful sight, of my mother's lips wrapped around my cock. "Oh Mom... you're gorgeous", I whispered.

She let go of my cock and smiled. "You're not watching me, are you?"

I smiled back. "Of course I am, Mom."

"That's embarrassing," she giggled.

"Why should it be? I want to enjoy every moment of this... and I love watching you, Mom."

She nodded, and looking deep in my eyes, gave my cock a loving kiss. Then, still her eyes on me, she covered the length of the shaft with more hungry kisses, and then took me back in her mouth in one deep thrust, closing her eyes as she did so.

To be honest, I don't think we lasted very long. There was a palpable urgency between us, and Mom seemed as hungry for my cum that I was willing to feed her. The wave of pleasure rising in me wasn't the kind I could keep at bay, and very soon, I was telling her: "Mom, I'm going to cum..." She moaned in return, moving faster on me, and (at last) I exploded in her mouth. I usually cum a lot, but that really felt like gallons -- as if all the pent-up anticipation of the previous days was suddenly let loose. Mom tried to keep it all in, moaning with every spurt of mine, but some did escape at the corner of her mouth. When it was clear I was done cumming, she swallowed with a gulp, let my cock out and rubbed her cheek against it, watching me with a contented look.

"Hmm, that was nice", I smiled.

"More than nice, baby..."

"You liked it, Mom?"

She giggled. "I loved it..."

I caressed her shoulder -- she was lying on her side, facing me, giving little kisses to my softening cock. She caught me watching her, and there was a flash of worry in her eyes.

"Are you sure you're okay with all this, baby?"

"Yes, why?"

"You seemed... strange, for a minute."

"Strange?"

"Pensive, maybe..."

I chuckled. "Yeah, maybe... but don't worry, everything's fine. I was just trying to come to grasp with the situation, you know? It's not every day that..." I chuckled again.

"What, baby?"

"I just thought -- 'it's not every day'... but maybe it will be."

She smiled. "I wouldn't mind..."

"After all, we agreed on some rules..."

She nodded. "And rules are important."

It was my turn to smile.

*****

The remainder of the evening turned out to be a quiet affair. We had some more wine, we chatted about nothing, reminiscing about some of the moments that had led us to being there, snuggled together on the sofa, basking in that post-orgasmic glow. I wouldn't say all my worries had been pushed aside at that point -- I couldn't help but marvel about the whole situation, wondering if it was but a dream I could wake up from at any moment.

More than once, Mom caught me staring at her, my eyes drawn by her figure and the way it was offered to me in that white (bridal?) outfit. Every time, I answered her silent question with a smile of my own, and got her deliciously blushing. And every time, I was reminded of that connection we shared, and which had grown steadily over those past weeks. It was a mix of love, of caring, of trust too -- and of course, of shared desire.

We eventually headed up upstairs, and I led Mom to her room. I was feeling more confident now, and my tone was more direct, more assertive. Obediently, she followed my instructions and kneeled at the foot of her bed, biting her lower lip again as I undressed in front of her. When I stepped forward, my cock hard in front of her face, she looked up at me and smiled -- before lovingly taking it in her mouth.

This time, there was no urgency -- just lust. I put my hands in her hair, holding her softly but firmly as I moved my hips, sliding between her lips. Her hands were playing with her breasts, teasing her pussy, sometimes grabbing my cock and stroking it faster, her eyes never leaving my face. When I felt the first signs of impending climax, I started moaning, calling out "Mom... Mom... Mom..." like a mantra. I saw her smile, one of her hands moving faster between her thighs, the other reaching for my shaft. I think she came slightly before I did -- but the way her mouth suddenly felt tighter around me took me over the edge, and soon I was cumming all over her tongue.

I pulled out of her mouth before I was done, the last few spurts landing on her chin, and on her tits. Then I pushed my cock back between her lips, and she moaned, her smeared smile pure sexiness.

"Sorry, Mom, seems I made a mess..."

She giggled. "I don't mind messy, baby. Mouah!", she finished, giving my cockhead a sloppy kiss. Gratifying me with a saucy wink, she started gathering my spilled cum with her fingers, licking them clean. I watched her, transfixed by this gorgeous sight. My legs felt weak, and I lied down on Mom's bed. She joined me, still playing with the few remaining strands of cum on her chin. I put a hand around her shoulders, and she snuggled against me. She was warm and smelled good, and I thought I'd close my eyes for a minute, savoring the moment.

*****

When I woke up, I didn't know where I was. I took me a few minutes before I recalled what had happened the previous evening and realized I wasn't in my bed. I stood up, and headed for the bathroom. Having relieved myself, I went to my room and put on some boxer shorts and a t-shirt, checking out the time: almost 10am. I had slept like a log.

I went downstairs, and found Mom in the kitchen. She was wearing a long, loose tank top, that barely covered her breasts. She greeted me with a long hug that wasn't exactly innocent -- and that didn't leave me unfazed.