The Cello

"Morning," I said simply reaching for and taking a sip from my cup. "And thanks."

"You're welcome sweetie," she said smiling, without a hint of anything on her face. She said nothing at all about catching me the night before, nor anything else for that matter either, so I was overwhelmingly relieved she hadn't heard or discovered me standing behind her in her bedroom.

"Sorry to wake you up so early, you lazy little boy" she kidded with a grin. "But it's a vary warm breezy day for airing out the house while we work, and like I said, I wanted to get an early start on the bathroom before it becomes too unbearably stuffy to work in there. Guess we both over slept a bit..."

There was a long silence, her eyes lost in dreamy thoughts. Then she took another sip.

She was wearing her favorite work clothes, which I'd seen her wear several times years ago out in the yard. They consisted of an old now entirely ratty pair of my sweat pants, the pants she had cut off and made into shorts, almost to short as I'd often stare at the lower part of her firm ass cheeks when she'd bent over to garden. But even the sweat top she was wearing was sexily provocative. She had cut it off baring her midriff, the top just barely concealing those large breasts. The fact she was my own mother still didn't fail to get an appreciative look from me when I'd seen her in it the first time, but it was now even more so after what I'd seen the night before.

"Well? Shall we?" she asked standing up.

We'd already discussed that she'd hand paint the corners with the brush, and I would then follow behind with the roller, doing the bulk of the actual painting. I hadn't been too enthusiastic about doing this before, but suddenly now I was. Especially when she stood on the upper rungs of the ancient step ladder in order to reach the seams and corners were the wall and ceiling met as she painted. The ladder wobbled dangerously however on its unsteady legs.

"Would you mind holding the ladder for me while I do this?" she asked. I couldn't do much at the moment anyway, so agreed to and stood there holding onto it as she reached up to paint. As she did, I realized I could see the soft rounded fullness of her large bare breasts beneath the lose top. She hadn't worn a bra! I stood there wondering if she realized I could nearly see every bit of her tits, save for her still cleverly concealed nipples as they pressed against the straining front material. But the fact of the matter was, as she continued to lean forward painting, I could see more and more of the underside of her ivory pillows.

"More paint?" She then handed me the large empty blackberry yogurt container she'd been using to draw the paint from, good to know she was still eating healthy. Kneeling down on the floor I poured a bit more from the paint can into it and then looked up towards her. She was touching up one of the corners with what she had left on the brush. As she did, I realized I could clearly see the bright red lace panties she was wearing beneath the too short pair of baggy cut off sweat shorts she had on. Mom's twin cheeks were clearly revealed beneath the hem of the shorts, not to mention the clearly defined outline of her small pussy lips as her thin panties stretched over them.

"What do you think?" she then asked looking down at me as I knelt there looking up.

"Too much of a contrast?"

Actually I rather liked the bright red panties against the dull gray of the sweat shorts, but then that wasn't what she was asking about either. Tearing my eyes away from her ass, though I was reasonably sure she hadn't caught me looking there, I answered.

"Actually, I like it, you should go pro as a decorating consultant" I said honestly. She had chosen to paint the bathroom in a very bright baby blue, though the counter tops were likewise a marbled gray, though there were bits of sparkling blue flakes in the counter tops surrounding the wash basin and tub the color scheme just matched. She beamed and smiled with a look of relief in her face.

"Oh that's nice to hear!" she told me, "Your father never liked my decorating selections, but I told him he never uses the downstairs bathroom anyway, so why the fuck did he care anyway?"

Her tone of voice had clearly changed as she spoke, I could hear the slight irritation and anger in it as she did so. Obviously another point of contention added somewhere on that long list of divorce reasons.

Post divorce. "Things still aren't going very well between the two of you at the moment are they?" I suddenly said, surprised that I did. She stopped painting, I saw her lower her head for a moment contemplating an answer without looking at me for a moment. Though again, her pose on the ladder as she did so gave me yet another full look at her nearly revealed breasts.

"No, sweetie they haven't been for a long, long , really long time," she finally sighed.

"But it's not something for you to worry about, its done. He's simply gone for good now..." I handed her the fresh filled container of paint and continued to hold onto the ladder as she returned to painting and reached for the far corner. Though it became immediately obvious to me we should move the ladder closer as she did. She was leaning over way too far. Had I not been holding onto the ladder, it would have tipped.

But the simple fact of the matter was due to her umm.. excessive upper chest weight, mom lost her own balance. As I saw her begin to fall over towards the wall, I let go of the ladder standing in front of her as I had been. In doing so, I was able to catch her easily, breaking her fall. But as I did so, my hands automatically reaching up to catch her, one slipped right up inside her loose fitting sweat shirt, the other coming about her waist as I caught her. The contact of my hand directly against her massive right breast squeezing it to stop her momentum was unavoidable, though entirely by accident.

The ladder crashed into the wall throwing the spinning container of paint which splattered everywhere, though most of it spilling on me. I hardly realized it though, my hand was still pressed against the fullness of her breast beneath the top, her hard nipple filling the palm of my hand. I know it was only a second or two that we remained there like this, but I soon after slowly slide my hand down withdrawing it. Feeling her ever so soft erect nipple to pop straight up and out between my fingers, though mom made no mention of the inadvertent contact, treating it as a non moment, my cock certainly hadn't.

I felt it lengthen, though thankfully not enough to as yet make a scene.

She laughed then looking at me as I released her letting her stand on her own. Like normal around the house I wasn't wearing a shirt. From my shoulder to my waist I was covered in blue paint. "You look a little like a Smurf!" she giggled once again, her finger reached up and suddenly started tracing random patterns in the blue paint down along my stomach and chest but stopped when she swirled them around my right nipple.

"I guess we could finish the job and actually turn you into one," she said playfully, then apologizing for her obvious mistake in leaning over too far on the ladder. "Guess I should have known better, thanks for catching me." Only then did I see her face redden, the obvious contact of my hand on her breast suddenly entering both of our thoughts as we stood there in momentary silence. As her finger traced a heart shape around my right nipple.

"You're welcome," I told her, and then adding. "It was my pleasure." My subtle innuendo of what I had touched not lost on her either as I said that, seeing her face redden even deeper. "Now the paint clashes," I teased, seeing it redden even more. Though she laughed at that somewhat nervously.

"Here, let me wipe you off," she told me grabbing one of several handy rags, "before you really do become a Smurf," she said once again giggling. I stood, letting her remove the paint, the gentle feel of her hands as she ran the cloth over my chest, though all that did was to lengthen my prick even more than it already was. The bulge in my shorts obviously noticeable now if she were to look down there, and nothing I could do about it if she did. Which she did, though she didn't say anything as she finished wiping up the last bit which had traveled on further down to the waist band of my shorts where it pooled.

"Sorry, hope these weren't a favorite pair of yours," she said then. "Looks like I ruined them for you if they were." But as she said that, I could see her eyes were locked in a downward angle, which remained there for a moment longer before she again looked up. As she did, there was a bead of perspiration on her forehead, which I then gently wiped off with my thumb, though accidentally smearing a blue streak of paint across it when I did.

"Oops!" I said, laughing. "Didn't mean to do that, but it is getting hot in here!" I then added, referring honestly to the raise in temperature, and not what was happening, though she seemed to refer back to that instead of the actual heat.

"You might could say that," she smiled once again looking down, though now she wiped her own forehead off with her arm as another droplet of sweat formed on her brow.

"Damn!" she replied. "I knew it was going to get hotter today, but I didn't think we'd feel it this much inside the house this soon!"

With the windows and vents all taped up, the bathroom was indeed quickly turning into a sauna. "You're lucky," she said then as we re-straightened the ladder, moving it to where we should have put it in the first place. "At least you have your shirt off, I guess my wearing this wasn't such a good idea, it's too damn hot! and now its covered in paint any way."

"So? Take it off then," I suggested seeing the look of surprise on her face when I said it.

She giggled nervously, briefly though she actually stood there considering it.

"Seriously? You wouldn't mind? It wouldn't bother you if I did?"

"Yes, seriously, I wouldn't mind it if you did," I answered though I didn't answer the last part of her question. It probably would bother me...but in a good way. Though I still didn't think she'd seriously take me up on my offer until she handed me the brush she was holding.

"Here, hold this," she said giving it to me, and then I stood there watching her as she reached for and then pulling the cutoff sweatshirt she was wearing up and over her head. I could only gawk as her massive twin breasts suddenly revealed themselves, forcing my eyes away as her head reappeared, though her next action drew them right down to her boobs once again. She had tossed the shirt off to one side, now cupping her breasts lifting them.

"Hand me one of those clean rags," she asked. I did so, watching as she lifted each, wiping the beads of sweat away from above and below them as she held them up.

"Thank you for the idea," she then stated. "That's much better, though I hope it doesn't weird you out to see your own mother's breasts for the second time this week," she then asked looking at me. "It's not my intention to make you feel any more uncomfortable." As she said that, her eyes once again briefly looked down at the front of my own now entirely tented shorts, which I daresay, were becoming border line painful with there constriction.

"I don't feel uncomfortable at all," I told her meaning it, and then adding, "well...sort of anyway," I grinned looking down at myself, causing her to laugh.

"Good thing you're not the one standing on the ladder, With that monster in my face I might be tempted to..." Mom caught herself, her face once again blushing furiously. "OH My GOD!!, I can't believe I actually said that...out loud!" she quickly amended. Her eyes wild as though she might now suddenly run from the room as the implication of what she'd just openly inferred hung there.

I don't know why I then said what I said, I hadn't really thought about it, or meant to, it just sort of came out.

"I saw you last night," I said somewhat sheepishly.

"Saw me? Where? When?" she said obviously flustered and confused, her eyes even wilder looking than before as she suddenly began thinking back on the evening, wondering what I was referring to.

"When I was on the couch with my special movie, were you behind me last night?" I then asked her boldly. "Did you see what I was doing?" I asked.

I could see it in her eyes that she had, and she knew in looking at me that I probably knew she'd been there. And it hadn't been for only a few moments either. Obviously I knew she had been there for a while, watching me there in the security of darkness and my obsessively occupied actions.

"I, ah...I ah...I didn't mean to," she began. "I remembered I had forgotten to take my own clothes out of the washer, I was going to come back down stairs and throw them in the dryer when I saw you...saw that you were ah...ah, well, that the TV was on, and that you were, ah..."

"Jerking off," I finished for her. Though she suddenly went mute on me unable to speak. "I wondered if you had, I heard the floor board creek shortly after that, so I went upstairs to see if you were upset, angry with me at having caught me playing with myself," I went on...seeing the sudden realization begin to form within her mind. "I went to your room, I knocked but you didn't answer..." I added as though that gave justification for my actions as I continued. "And then I entered into your room," I told her. It was obvious she now knew I had seen her, seen her kneeling on her bed fucking herself. "Mother I was only six feet behind you."

"Oh God Lance, I'm sorry...I didn't mean for that to happen, I didn't know," she blurted,

"I was just...ah, just..."

"Horny...like I was," I interrupted. "Like I am now," I then added seeing the look of additional shock, confusion appear within her face. "Watching you as you did that, it was beautiful mom...it was the the most erotic, sensual things I have ever witnessed!"

My admission had really taken her off guard.

"It was?" she said stammering, "You enjoyed doing that?" she then asked.

"Yes, I did. And I stood there, jerking myself off again watching you. When I saw what you were biting down on I even came when you did."

"Oh my god Lance!" Mom blurted turning her head away in shame and embarrassment. "I didn't mean for you to see me do that," she half blubbered. "It's just that...well your father and I, we stopped having sex after you where born." she left off without saying more. "And then seeing you downstairs, it's just been so very long, and then watching you, seeing Me! I mean well not me but her, that women on the movie, dear God I could be her twin sister. I just...well I just couldn't help myself."

"It's ok mom...I understand, truly I do. And watching you...well, I couldn't help myself either. I've always fantasized over your flawless body mother, no other women compares to you even if you're are my own mother. And last night wasn't the first time either."

"What do you mean? It's not the first time?" she pressed. "You've...you've seen me masturbate before?" She said even more embarrassed and in shock that I might have.

"Well no...that was a first, for us both" I admitted. "But it's not the first time I've jerked off when thinking about you, all my life you have always been the perfect women in my dreams. Ever since I've moved back home, I've done that a lot," I freely admitted to her. Once again she wasn't sure what to say about that, nor did she seemingly know what to do when I reached out, cupping both of her breasts within my hands. "Mother the large stack of hankies you washed. That was all because of being around you again....."

"No Lance, we can't...I can't," she said stepping back, her hands coming up to cross over her breasts, as though only then realizing she was standing there with them exposed in front of me. "It's wrong...it wouldn't be right, no matter how much I might..."

"Want to?" I pressed once again stepping forward, though I merely put my hands around her waist without touching her intimately, though even that contact was intimate enough. I leaned forward, my eyes on hers as I did, until our lips touched, her eyes as well as mine only then closing. Our kiss was unlike any before. Her mouth opened, accepting my tongue as I soon after felt hers entering mine where they proceeded to dance against one another. I felt her hands drop away from her breasts, now pressing against me, the twin hard points of each nipple searing my skin, my chest.

We continued to kiss, our mouths now hard pressed, our tongues fencing deliriously, and then came the touch of her hand. I felt it worm its way down into my shorts. With no other obstacles preventing it, she soon wrapped her entire hand about the girth of my cock, fondling it, exploring it. I likewise dropped my own, my hand soon slithering beneath the waistband of her shorts and panties. I encountered not the heated softness of her flesh, but the very wet moisture, which had already saturated through the thin material of her panties. I allowed my finger to cruise through the indented pressed passage of her split, still somewhat protected, though the hard knot of her precious swollen hard clit was clearly defined.

She moaned, breaking the kiss, though I then kissed her neck, my lips continuing to do so, my fingers gently stroking her under the material of her soaked panties, my free hand now coming up to once again cup her exposed breasts. I immediately found her hard extended nipple, capturing it between my fingers as I rolled it gently, playfully, pulling on it. Likewise her hand remained busy as well. I felt her squeeze the head of my prick, a thick fat droplet of my oozing pre-cum appearing which she swiped off with her fingers, now using my lubrication to further tease and explore the head of my dick with her gentle thumb.

Somehow I managed to step back breaking the intimate contact. For a moment she looked at me as though I had perhaps come back to my senses, making her think that perhaps she needed to regain hers as well. But as she did, I simply pulled down on my shorts, stepping out of them. My hard straining cock now bouncing up at her as she looked down at it, angrily swollen, purple tip still leaking droplets of cum drool that now hung off the tip of it actually causing a stringer of it to form as gravity forced it to descend to drip on the tile floor. Mesmerized by that, mom stepped forward towards me, suddenly going down onto her knees as she did. In the next instant her hand once again surrounded my prick, her mouth forming an small oval as she leaned forward in order to capture it.

I moaned deeply, audibly as her mouth surrounded my cock, sucking it inside her. Her tongue playfully dancing along the underside of my shaft. My hands, fingers, now digging themselves into her scalp as I stood there, my head thrown back, another deep moaning sigh. Mine or hers I'm not even sure as she began working my prick up and down with her mouth. The delight of her tongue as it speared the tiny slit of my prick, coaxing out even more of my pre-cum juices. I felt my balls tightening, the tickling sensation of release all too soon beginning to threaten its way up from my balls. The fingers of her left hand twirling and squeezing my engorged ball sack. I knew that to continue to allow her to pleasure me the way that she was would soon have me filling her mouth with my cream.

I looked down at her slow bobbing head "I'm getting too close," I somehow managed to warn her, figuring that would force her to back off from what she was doing. All that did however was cause her to increase her sucking efforts, her jacking of my prick as she worked it, now urgently, wantonly, obviously expecting me now to shoot off inside her mouth as she looked up towards me, me looking down at her are eyes locking as my own mother knelt before me, my cock in her mouth as she sucked it.