Falling for My Mum Ch. 05

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Holy Saturday dawned bright, crisp and sunny and we had a leisurely family breakfast together, our last as it turned out, before we all retired to our rooms to get ready. Sara's maid of honour arrived just as breakfast finished in order to give her a hand with her dress and make-up. The hairdresser arrived around 9 by which time I was downstairs already dressed casually flicking through the channels on the TV.

I left for the hotel where Olly and his family was staying and where the reception was to be held at 10 where I was to meet the other ushers and from there we took another car to the church. One of the ushers, a friend of Olly's from university, and I were on the door handing out smiles and orders of service, while the other two were showing people to their seats. People watching at a wedding is always fun -- seeing who looks glamorous and who chose their frock months ago before they put on half a stone, the couple that are clearly about to break up and the ones where their own wedding is coming up and they are on something of a fact-finding mission. Sara has a lot of good looking friends but there was only one woman whose arrival I was really focused on and hat was yours.

You arrived a few minutes before 11, just ahead of the bridal party and looked stunning as I knew you would. You were wearing a large round brimmed white hat and a gorgeous two-tone white and black dress that moulded itself to your wonderful body The top half of the dress was ruched taffata and lilywhite in colour, low cut but not obscenely so and your shoulders were covered with a plain white half jacket. The bottom half of black satin had a column silhouette and fell tantalisingly to the floor, the only colour provided by the sash of white belt that hung down from your slim waist. On your feet were black heeled sandals encrusted with beads. You looked simply wonderful, your make up was perfect and, though you had made sure that you wouldn't show up Sara, no one could have guessed that you had a 28-year-old daughter and all the discerning men there would have given their right arm for a piece of you.

You smiled when you saw me and the way I looked at you, that happy, languorous smile that only the truly beautiful can carry off. You leaned in to kiss me "Close your mouth darling, you're nearly drooling." I realised that you were right and I obeyed, kissing you on the cheek.

"You look amazing Mum, so gorgeous, just perfect," I gushed.

"Thank you my boy," you whispered back, "I'm glad you like it. Oh, and don't think that Sara's the only one with bridal lingerie on today," you told me with a smirk, giving me a wink and then heading off down the aisle to be intercepted by one of the other ushers. I noticed that they both were eager to get the honour of escorting you to your seat. Did your hips move with slightly more wiggle than normal I wondered or was it simply my over-active imagination?

The service went smoothly and before you knew it Sara and Olly were man and wife and were walking back down the aisle together. Towards the back of the procession, I took the arm of one of the bridesmaids, a petite blonde called Alice, while you were several places ahead of me in the company of Olly's father.

The rest of the day went slowly and rather boringly as is the way for weddings -- an interminable procession of photos, hanging around and superficial conversations with people you've either never met before or those you only see at events like these. The wedding breakfast didn't begin until at least 3pm and wasn't over much before 6 as we all had to sit through the speeches. We then had an hour and a half's break, more bloody waiting, before the evening function got underway. I had hopes that we might be able to find time together during that period to sneak off to my room but each time I felt I might get you on your own another friend or relative closed in to tell you how great you or Sara looked or how proud you must be. I just wanted to scream at them to leave you alone so I could take you away and make love to you. Fortunately, I managed to control that instinct!

The evening party started at 7.30 and was a much less formal affair. The staff had cleared the function room and turned it into a dance floor with an open bar. It was St Alban's best hotel and they had done a slick job in turning it from a luscious dinning venue into an exciting dance floor with a surprisingly good band. We were both on the dance floor quite early but at opposite ends. We were careful not to be too obvious but slowly, surely, we inched towards each other, dancing with others on the way but our eyes meeting frequently, our eventual target quite clear to each other. Finally, we reached each other, the lights were dim the band was excellent and you had the sleekest, sexiest smile on your beautiful face.

"Hi handsome," you purred, "care to dance with your old Mum?" I grinned.

"I've warned you about calling yourself old," I told you and you laughed as you slipped into my arms. It was a fast song and we danced well together -- we were both natural movers and drew admiring glances for our moves. As the band moved into the next tune, 'Signed, sealed and delivered' by Stevie Wonder, we melted into each other, the one close dance we would be able to get away with that evening. We were close but not inappropriate, always conscious of the other bodies moving around us. It was agonisingly wonderful, being so close to you and yet not be able to possess you fully, to kiss you in front of friends and family, to show them that I was yours and you were mine. As the song ended and just before, for propriety's sake, we drifted apart to dance with others you whispered in my ear, "Your room, 30 minutes," and with that you were gone, melted into the crowd of other dancers. I danced a little longer but my heart was no longer in it. I just wanted for the time to tick away. After about fifteen minutes, I slipped away to the lobby and took the lift up to the floor I was staying on, two down from you and Dad and from Sara's bridal suite.

I unlocked the door with my key card and sat in the dark on the bed, my mind too full to switch on the light while I waited for you. I reached over to my suitcase which lay open on the bed and took out a small box and slipped into my pocket before placing the suitcase on the floor and kicking it under the bed. I knew what I had to do. No more hiding, no more skulking in the dark, it was now or never. It was selfish I know, I don't deny it but it had to be or we could never move forward, our great love would just stagnate and wither away. I know there was the chance it would ruin Sara's big day but on this day of all days I thought you might be open to what I was going to suggest. It would remind you of how Dad had failed to live up to his marriage vows - he'd not had affairs as far as I knew but he had not honoured you, not worshiped you with his body. I knew hat I couldn't give you a day like Olly was giving Sara but away from here, away from St Albans and our lives I could give you everything else, a marriage if not a wedding and, after all, everybody said that was the more important bit right?

Your gentle tap on the door broke my reverie, brought me back to reality. Would I do it? Was I brave enough? Was I mad enough? My heart was racing, my mouth felt dry as I stood up and strode over to the big wooden door. I opened it and there you were, looking radiant and wanton, your hair down, your eyes narrowed and focused, your lips shimmering with red lip gloss newly applied, your body poured into that black and white dress. I pulled you inside and we kissed as I kicked the door shut behind us and then pushed you back against it. I felt you arch your back away from the door and your body mounded against me, melting into me as our kiss went on and on. Your hands were in my hair, your nails gripping my scalp and the side of my head as your tongue pillaged my mouth like an Amazon warrior taking possession of a conquered foe.

I could feel your hands at my belt, at my zip, smell your light, intoxicating perfume in my nostrils, hear your breathless words in my ear, "Oh God, Tommy darling, Mummy wants you so badly, I need you, needed you all day...needed you in my cunt."

"Oh fuck Mum, I need you too,l I moaned in reply. You look so fucking gorgeous Cat, the hottest woman here, my woman. You are mine aren't you Mum?" I said holding you tight.

"Yes angel, yes, all yours," you replied, sliding the trousers of my morning suit down my legs. I kicked if my shiny black shoes and shrugged off the tailcoat. My hands were on the straps of your dress, desperate to free your succulent, incomparable breasts and suck them into my eager mouth.

As my trousers came down, however, the small jewellery box rolled out onto the hard floor. We both stopped and looked down. You looked up into my eyes, your gaze confused.

"Tom, what's that and why was it in your pocket?" My mind was a fog, filled with so many different thoughts but, as I dropped to one knee to retrieve it, a single thought fought its way to the front of my consciousness -- it was now or never.

My fingers trembled as I flipped open the small velvet-covered box and looked up into your crystal blue eyes. Inside was a simple white gold band inset with several small diamonds. "It's for you mother," I said softly, "if you'll have it." Your mouth opened and then closed, unsure how to react, what to say. "Let me finish Mum before you reply. Don't worry, I'm not mad, I know we can't be married properly but this whole wedding has opened my eyes to our future. I want us to be together, not to have to hide, to sneak around. I love you and I want my life to be with you but I can't share you any longer."

You nodded and I saw a tear in your eye. "It's been so wonderful but so hard for both of us I know, not just for me but for you too, even more so I imagine. I've got a new job, with a Member of the Scottish Assembly, I'm going to be his speechwriter. I start on Tuesday and I have a flat in Edinburgh that's big enough for the two of us." You frowned in response to this news.

"Why didn't you tell me? Why do all this behind my back?"

"I had to. I wanted it planned out, to show you that I was serious and that I had somewhere for you, for us, to go. It's there for you Mum -- the ring, the flat and me -- if you want me, whenever you want it."

You paused and then raised me to my feet, took the box and placed it in your handbag. "You're very brave and very silly Tom darling, but I love you for it." It seemed like you were letting me down as gently as you could. "I need time to think about it. I want to, Tommy, God knows I do, but it's a lot to ask, to throw my whole life away. I'll think about it, though, I really will," you said, taking my face in your hands and kissing me, "but for now, just make love to me darling," you said softly, pulling me towards the bed.

You swiftly untied and unzipped your dress and let it slither to the ground in a whisper of satin. Underneath you were in a white lace balcony bra and a pair of white lace knickers with a silver heart at the front of the waistband. You lay down and pulled me on top of you, kissing me, never breaking the contact between us. You hand snaked around my cock and pulled me towards you. I hooked my fingers into your waistband and tugged it down your pale thighs. Your beautiful, glistening pussy came into view and you gasped, a gasp which turned into a cry of joy, as I sunk my cock into your pussy, feeling the folds move around me, swallowing me.

You wrapped your heels around my back and slid them down to my arse, using them like spurs to control my thrusts. Our bodies knew each other's needs and desires so well by now but our love making was given an extra urgency and tenderness by the fear that this might be our last time. Our bodies moulded into each other, our kisses were so deep and I felt your nails under my shirt digging into my skin.

We made long, intense, deep love as the wedding party continued a few floors below us. None of them knew, could even entertain the thought that a few feet above their heads as they danced merrily together, the mother of the bride was lying on her son's bed, her legs wrapped around him, her pussy riven apart by his big, smooth cock.

I could feel my orgasm approaching, the tingly feeling that promised the most heavenly moments a man can experienced. Knowing that I didn't have long before my orgasm overtook me, I tried mentally to photograph you beneath me. I knew that this might be the last time we made love and I wanted to capture everything, from your blonde hair splayed on the pillow beneath your head, to the mischievous twinkle in your blue eyes, your open mouth freaked by ruby red glossy lips, to those wonderful, proud breasts, your toned tummy in the centre of which sparkled your belly stud, right down to your incomparable pussy that had brought me into this world and which, in recent months, brought me more pleasure than I knew was possible.

I could think no more, my orgasm was on me, I kissed you deeply as my cum pumped up through my cock and into your waiting, willing pussy. I felt your own orgasm overtake you and your muscles squeezing my cock as your body convulsed once, twice, three times beneath me.

We hugged closely, no words passing between us, there were none that could match this situation. We lay there in each other's arms for a long while before we silently agreed that we had to return to the reality that was happening downstairs.

******

I told Dad about my new job the next day. He seemed surprised but not unhappy that I was moving out and away so soon. You wept when I left but we had to hold our real feelings in as Dad was there. I knew I'd have to wait, even if you did decide to come you couldn't just up and leave Dad without arousing suspicions. These six weeks in Scotland have been so hard, though, being apart from you, not knowing about the future. I've spent the evenings writing this chronicle of our time together, of how we fell in love and of my feelings for you. I am sending it to you now Mum, my beautiful Cat, so whatever you decide you have it as a memory of the time we have spent. I will keep waiting.