The Harlot

It has a typical Hallmark type Valentine greeting inside which she quickly ignores to get to what he has written on the blank part of the card.

Mom:

Ever since you came fluttering back into my life like a gorgeous exotic butterfly, the sun has been brighter, the flowers more fragrant, food more delicious, sleep more sound, my walk more spry. In short, you have made my life more complete and filled that big gaping hole that had always been in my heart.

I adore and love you with all my heart and soul. Please, please never leave me again as I am yours now and forever.

Love faithfully,

Tony

By the time she neatly tucks the card back into its envelope she is softly crying. She looks up at him, touches his face lightly, not knowing what to say, but knowing she loves him so very absolutely at this very moment that her heart seems nearly ready to explode.

Sniffling still, she bends over to open the bag at her feet. She pulls out a sexy pair of black boots that she had seen at the mall just the other day while they went shopping together after meeting for lunch.

She wanted to buy them, but said they were too expensive. Apparently not for him, but even more special than the expensive price he paid for them, was the simple fact he remembered she wanted them, and then took the time to go back to the mall and buy them . . . just for her.

But he is not done charming her yet with gifts as inside the bigger bag that contains the boots is a smaller pink one from a candle company inside the mall. It contains a various assortment of small votive and tea light candles of all different colors. But the highlight of the bag is the three large pillar candles that he has attached a rose to with tape. There are two pink roses and one white rose, each with their stems neatly trimmed in half so they could fit more discreetly in the bag.

"Well I guess you remembered my little candle fetish huh, baby," she says while carefully peeling the tape off.

"Of course. I listen when you talk to me. I remember you telling me over lunch one day you had a thing for candles."

"I guess that is a different experience for me," she says as she twirls the three roses with their half stems in her hand. "I mean I am used to guys . . ." She pauses and carefully tucks the white rose under one ear so its white blossom stands out in beautiful contrast to her dark hair. "Staring at my chest I guess and not listening."

She takes the other two roses and carefully tucks first one inside her dress snuggling the stem down and in between her tits, and then adds the second rose right next to it. The pink blossoms stand out distinctly on her black dress drawing attention to a pair of tits that need like help to garner such attention on their own.

Tony, feeling brave and playful, decides to be bold with his answer. "Well I guess I am special mom."

"Oh why is that son?"

"Because I can do both! I can stare at your chest . . . and listen to whatever you might be saying."

"Oh really, well I guess the pot is loosening you up a bit as for you to admit such a thing is really brave of you, Tony."

He smiles brightly as her as indeed between the wine and the pot he is feeling exceedingly charming.

"Anyways, God this is so sweet. Everything." She leans in and gives him a quick peck on the cheek before taking a quick swipe at her eyes with the back of her hand.

"Well I know you are a bit insecure about our relationship and I just wanted to prove to you how much I love you . . . and need you in my life."

"You are going to make me cry again. I tend to get emotional when I drink wine baby, especially when I mix it with pot. I hope you don't mind and will forgive me."

"Of course," he says squeezing her hand tight. "And I hope you are not disappointed in your presents."

"No, no . . . well maybe I do have one small disappointment hon."

"Really what is that?"

"Well I heard Little Joe's has a small dance floor and if we had went there . . . You probably don't like to dance but . . . I don't know, I think I could have maybe talked you into sharing a nice Valentine's slow dance with me."

"Hey you know. It's only like maybe . . ." He glances over at the old fashioned grandfather clock stuck in the corner, "What 10:40. We still have time to share a Valentine's dance if you want."

"Really you would not mind?"

"Not at all. Here let me show you." He stands up, letting that charm he feels take over his actions and bows elegantly, before taking her hand and kissing it. "Would the beautiful mother care to share a dance with her not so handsome son."

Maria beams at him and picks up on the silliness. "Hmm, my son doth not give himself credit I think as he is very handsome and his mother would love to share a dance with him."

"Now where shall we dance me lady?"

"How about in the evil step mother's bedroom chamber as I do imagine she has a most beautiful bed chamber."

"Hmm . . ." He hesitates slightly as, of course, his parents would highly disapprove of him being in their room . . . especially with her.

Maria knows this, which is, of course, exactly why she wants to do it.

"Come on son. It will be our secret. It will be a bit of payback besides for all the jealous feelings I have in my heart toward her. You know she may be a prude, but she is a pretty prude and I sense you too are closer than you let on."

"OK," he says not wanting to disappoint her. Also not wanting to broach the subject of just how close he is with his step mother.

They grab the bottle of wine and their glasses, and head upstairs to his parent's room. Once, they reach the bedroom door, she immediately takes charge, and shoos him out and down the hall to the bathroom telling him to go freshen up.

She hurries back downstairs as an impulsive thought hits her. She grabs the bag of candles and her new boots, hoping to create a warm and romantic atmosphere for their upcoming dance with the candles. She also plans on slipping on the slutty new boots he bought her as an added surprise.

Maria slips into the master bedroom and is immediately jealous as it puts the crappy little bedroom she has back at her apartment to shame. The bedroom is spacious with thick shag carpet and elegant wood carved furnishings.

Acting on sheer romantic impulse, Maria dumps the candles on the floor deciding to boldly act on an idea that just hit her. She arranges the candles in a large rough circle in the large open area between the bed and the bathroom. Inside the flaming circle of lit candles is where they shall dance.

She places the leftover candles strategically around the room in various places hoping to bath the room in a soft romantic glow. After taking a minute to light both the leftover candles and the candles that will frame her flaming circular dance floor, she sits down at the vanity table stuck in one corner of the bedroom to try and make her hair and makeup just perfect . . . for him.

Tony quietly slips into his parents' bedroom. He pauses just inside the doorway to admire the flickering candles placed throughout the room. He spots her over in the corner concentrating on putting makeup on as his eyes adjust to the soft darkness inside the room.

Crossing the room, he comes up behind her, leans over and whispers in her ear. "Making yourself beautiful for me, Mom?"

"You know it honey," she replies happily as she gets up from the vanity table's bench and turns to face him.

"Well, it worked because you are beautiful, Mom . . . you know that?"

"Still trying to win my heart. You are such a sweetie. You like my flaming circular dance floor hon or is it stupid?"

"No, no, Mom, it's . . . really nice . . . and romantic."

"Yeah well that is me. The slutty stripper with the romantic heart, huh," she says over her shoulder as she walks over to the entertainment center against the far wall.

"I hope Gloria has some slow songs I can play."

A minute later Maria is bending over, thumbing through the CD's as Tony tries not to stare too much at her ass. It's a losing battle. She seems to be taking an exceptionally long time choosing a CD, and then inserting it into the player. He half expects she is teasing him by taking her time while stooped over in her sexy little dress.

Finally, a romantic ballad he does not recognize fills the room. They move over to the rough circle of light, both stepping over the candles gingerly. Once inside, they both sense maybe something magical is about to happen.

"First time slow dancing with a woman honey," she whispers.

"Yes, I guess maybe I'm nervous."

"Oh don't be. Just move your feet and follow my lead," she says sweetly to him.

"Speaking of feet, your boots look fantastic on you, Mom."

"Yeah fantastically slutty you mean, but I guess that is why you bought them for me huh, Tony." Slutty indeed as the black leather boots with their 4.5 inch stiletto heels come all the way up to her knees.

He doesn't bother to respond. Instead he gives her a wan smile indicating what she said is the truth.

They sway to the soft music in silence for a bit. He loves being this close to her; loves the way she is clinging to him so tightly, but being so close to her is causing problems. Now that Maria is wearing her new boots she stands taller than her 5' 7" son which, fortuitously makes it that much easier for him to stare at his mom's big delicious tits.

The fact he is having an extremely hard time keeping his eyes off her chest is something Maria picks up on immediately. Feeling playful from both the wine and the pot, she decides to make a teasing comment or two—just to see where it might lead.

She starts off with a seemingly innocent comment hoping to eventually steer the conversation in the direction she wants it to go. "So, honey, tell me," she whispers drawing closer to him as she fiddles with the buttons on his dress shirt. "You really prefer my company to that of April. I remember what you told me earlier, but I kinda think you were just being nice to me . . . you know since its Valentine's Day."

"Mom, I was being serious. She really is not my type."

"Oh yeah, you said that. I remember. Your type physically you mean."

"Yeah," he says curious as to why she is bringing this up again.

"So on that subject did you really mean it when you mentioned how you . . . ahh like women with bigger tits?"

"I thought we were up here to dance, Mom, not play 20 questions."

"We are dancing hon, nicely I might add as I like the way you are holding me so tight, but can't we talk a little while we dance also." She reaches down slightly to turn his face up towards her before whispering, "Please."

He gets lost in alluring brown eyes and gives in—just as she knew he would.

"So answer the question honey. Besides you need to help me get over my insecurities when it comes to you."

They circle around once more their little make shift dance floor making sure to keep inside the confines of the flickering candles. She thinks he is going to ignore the question, maybe forcing her to ask it again when he finally sighs heavily and begins to speak.

"Yes I meant it mother. I do . . . prefer woman that are . . . you know . . . bigger."

"Hmm, that explains it then."

"Explains what?" he asks warily.

"Explains why you are having such a hard time keeping your eyes off your mom's tits."

The way she says this so . . . casually . . . makes him angry, along with the way she is obviously teasing him without trying to make it too obvious . . . and failing.

He snaps at her, maybe more harshly than he means. "Jesus, Mom. I'm not one of your stupid customers. You don't have to tease me all the time!!"

He starts to pull away from her hold as her sly little grin turns sour.

"It sounds like someone doesn't like his mother's customers."

"Maybe I am just jealous."

They have stopped dancing to the music, and are just standing there staring at one another as the conversation is going just where she hoped it might. In fact, Maria has to keep from clapping her hands together in joy as he has presented her with an opening you could drive a truck through. She will have to choose her words carefully though as he really does look angry.

"Well jealousy is an unwelcome friend of mind also honey." She reaches out and grasps his hands, before adding, "When it comes to you."

"What are you jealous of?"

The song grinds to an end which is her cue to move the conversation elsewhere. She turns away from him and hits the pause button on the stereo saying, "Let's rest a minute, finish another glass of wine as maybe that will loosen both of our tongues."

She takes his hand in hers and leads him over to the vanity table where she left the bottle of wine and the glasses.

"Loosen our tongues for what mother?"

"Oh you know so we can spill our guts, make full confessions that sort of thing." She fills up both of their glasses and with fresh wine.

Raising her glass and giggling, hoping to lighten the mood a bit, she sings out, "Race you to the finish."

"Gloria may be a bit prudish, but not when it comes to sharing her wine Mom. I have been drinking this stuff since I was 14 so you are on."

They both tip their glasses back and the race is on. It is about a dead heat as they both gulp down the balance of their glasses in no time flat.

"Again," Maria says filling their glasses to the brim once more.

"I guess you were serious about not wanting to be sober tonight huh?"

"Dead serious as you shall see when I beat you this time." She quickly tips her glass back and starts to drink before he is even ready.

"Hey that is cheating," he cries out, but then realizing she is not stopping, quickly brings his glass up to his lips and in three hearty swallows finishes it all just a hair or two behind her.

"I win," she giggles sitting down on the bench in front of the vanity table.

"Yeah whatever, you cheated," he fires back plopping down next to her. "Now what about this jealousy thing you mentioned you were . . . about me."

"You tell me about your jealousy first over . . . how did you put it? Oh yeah my stupid customers."

"Yeah well I meant it. I mean you take off your clothes for complete strangers, Mom, and I guess maybe I am jealous over that."

"Really?"

"Yes," he answers simply although his feelings regarding this matter are much, much more complicated than his brief answer.

"I should do something about that and I will if you promise to do something about what makes me jealous."

"What are you jealous of?"

"I will tell you, but you have to promise first to do whatever it takes to make me . . . ahh unjealous."

"But I don't know what you're so jealous of so how can I promise?"

"Be brave, make the promise blind to your mother."

He looks at her for a long second and sees she is totally sincere. He considers things briefly before taking the dive. "Fine I promise. I will do whatever it takes to make you not jealous anymore."

"Good, now that we have settled that I can try to put an end to your jealousy."

She stands up and walks over to the stereo one more time. The two full glasses of wine she just polished off has left her feeling free and easy with her emotions as a risqué plan is forming in the back of her mind.

She clicks on the CD player muttering to herself, "Gotta have some music anyways." Another slow song starts up as she walks back over to him.

"So what are you going to do, Mom, to end my jealousy? Quit."

"Quit, not hardly. I like showing off. So being a stripper suits me well or don't you think."

"I guess so," he says carefully while wondering what she is up to.

She turns her back to him and says casually as if making a remark about the weather. "Can you be a doll and go ahead and unzip me honey?"

"Mom, I . . ." He starts to question this totally unexpected request when she turns around and puts a finger to his mouth.

"Shh, baby. I made a promise to cure your jealousy remember. If I can take off my clothes for strangers then . . . Hmm you understand now? Don't spoil it for me . . . for us."

"Y-yes." He reaches out slowly--is he dreaming-- and finds the zipper to her strapless dress. Carefully he starts to pull down the zipper.

The dress parts revealing the backside of a sexy corset she is wearing underneath.

She turns back around as their eyes meet. She stares at him deeply-- almost daring him to look away as she carefully peels the dress off her body.

The purple corset with the black trimming he caught a glimpse of earlier looks ultra-sexy on her as does the little purple panties with white trimming.

She thrusts out her chest at him with a devilishly smile. "There that should take care some of your jealousy anyways honey as you can see your mother is not afraid to take her clothes off in front of you either."

"Yeah, I can see that," he mumbles trying to look away from those awesome 38DD tits of hers so proudly being put on display by her corset, but finding it nigh impossible. He half expects to wake up any moment only to find this was just an awesome wet dream.

"Care to finish our dance sweetie?"

"Ahh, are you going to put your dress back on, Mom?"

"Do you want me to hon?"

The answer is no of course, but he is afraid of sounding like a pervert if he admits he really would prefer she didn't put her dress back on. "I . . . think that might be . . . for the best," he finally manages to reply.

"Yeah well then that is exactly why I am NOT going to do it. I often chose to do what is not best . . ." She extends her hand helping him to his feet while noticing for the first time he has a rather large bulge working inside his jeans.

Halfway to their little dance floor she turns to him and smiles saying, "Besides your eyes, and maybe other parts of your body. . ." She makes it a point to peer down at his crotch. "Say they would prefer my dress stay off."

He catches her glance at his crotch and reacts with righteous indignation that he doesn't quite feel. "Mom!!"

She ignores his comment and slips her arms around him. "Oh Mom nothing let's dance baby."

He melts into her arms, lost in the luscious beauty of those big brown eyes, and that devastating body of hers. They sway silently to another romantic ballad while holding each other tight.

Near the end of the song she breaks the silence. "Do you think my corset looks good on me honey?"

"Yes, it looks great. I . . . ahh like purple."

"Yeah I know. Why do you think I bought it? Beside, of course, to make me look thinner."

"You . . . you bought it because I like purple which means . . ." He leaves his thought dangling as the song ends and she leads him over to the bed.

"Which means yes, somehow I was hopeful of letting you see me in it. I told you . . . I am a showoff."

"Jesus, Mom." It's all he can think to say as they sit on the edge of the bed.

"Now are you still concerned about why I am jealous?"

"Yes," he replies eagerly. He is anxious to change the subject anyways.

"My jealousy stems from . . . well I have a small confession to make that may upset you. Try and listen with an open heart."

"Sure," he says watching her cross her legs and get comfortable. She seems wholly unconcerned that she is sitting there on the bed next to him in a sexy as hell corset that makes her already huge boobs look even bigger while they talk casually. Worse yet she seems even less concerned that his eyes keep slipping down to her chest.

"Simply put I am jealous over Gloria, honey. We make fun of her for being a prude but I . . . well before you knew I was here in town I mean . . . I was here. I was afraid to let you know I was back at first, so I sorta of spied on you a bit."

"Mom!! Really, for how long."

"A week or two. Long enough anyways to know you and Gloria have a wonderfully strong and this is the part that makes me jealous . . . loving relationship. I see you two kiss goodbye . . . in the morning when you walk her to her car, before she goes to work."