I was almost to the door of the guest bathroom when I realized I had left my robe and clean underwear on the floor in mothers' room. I re-traced my steps and as I got to her half closed door heard her quietly moan "Oh Ronnie, oh yes baby, oh baby right there. Now, my darling, I'm Cumming, Oh My God, I'm Cumming for you, on you, ohhhhhh."
I didn't stop to think but rather walked right in. Mother lay on the bed with her legs spread wide, her robe open, and one hand was squeezing a tit while the other one was lightly stroking her pussy. I bent down, picked up my clothes, and when I stood back up mother was staring at me with shock visibly written all over her face.
"Sorry, mom, but I left my clean clothes here by accident." I said in a merry voice. Her face became so red I could have hung her by her feet on a pole and stopped traffic. I left quickly, before she could say anything, and smiled as I went back towards the guest bathroom.
Round 2, like round 1, had clearly been in my favor. As I showered I carefully considered how to lose round 3 in what had become a campaign of seduction.
Mother was obviously a sexually submissive woman while I was, equally obviously, a dominant man. One thing I had learned since I had begun to play this game was that a sub had to be allowed to win occasionally.
In many ways the Dom has a tougher time in a relationship then the Sub. It was my responsibility to create the safety which allowed my sub to give in to her desires without fear. Anything else was rape. A contract, a safe word, and careful planning were the foundation upon which this kind of relationship prospered.
Nancy, my first submissive and in many ways my mentor, had taught me that attention to safety re-assured a submissive person that it was okay to let loose and that a contract and a safe-word wasn't enough. The sub has to know, deep inside, that they could walk away at any time even (and especially) if their Dom doesn't want them to.
A submissive person needs to know they can walk away at any time in order to experience the true joy, and freedom, they seek to embrace. To have a healthy relationship both Dom and sub have to realize when the "bedroom door" is open.
The fact that my would-be submissive was also my mother added an extra level of complexity. In my experience there are two kinds of submissive personalities: The 24/7 type that need constant guidance and (my preferred type) the "I love to be sexually controlled but I'm still a free woman."
As I finished shaving I realized I didn't know enough about her to make an informed decision so I decided to "play it by ear". I pulled on my boxers and socks, wrapped my robe around me, and headed towards my room.
Once I had finished dressing I walked out into the living room, expecting to have a long wait while mother completed her routine, and was pleasantly surprised to see her there waiting for me.
She stood up as I entered and I involuntarily whistled. "Damn, Mom, you're hot!" I exclaimed and was pleased when she blushed.
"Not bad for 43, eh?" she replied somewhat nervously and I shook my head.
"Not bad for 23, Mom." I replied knowing I spoke the truth. She wore an electric blue tube dress that showed all her assets: perky tits, slim waist, womanly hips, a butt many men would die for, and 4 inch white stiletto heels that screamed "FUCK ME!!!!!"
She smiled at my compliment then said in a serious voice "Ron, I have one demand I insist you honor or this "date" is off." I feared the worst but she merely said "I want you to call me Helen, not mom, and you are Ron, not son, for the rest of this night."
I wanted to do cart-wheels (my heart did anyway) but I kept myself in control and merely replied "Of course, Helen." I looked at her as a man would look at a woman and then tapped a couple of fingers against my lips. "Something is missing."
She laughed and replied "My underwear springs to mind." as she pirouetted and I could only admire her sleek look.
"Helen, would you please give me a moment to fetch your birthday presents from my room?" I asked her in an ultra-formal manner.
She smiled sweetly and asked "You've bought me presents?" When I nodded yes she added "You really shouldn't have, darling, and of course I'll wait."
Upon reaching my room I unplugged the toy and its' controller and put them in my jacket pocket, grabbed the "traditional" present, and sauntered back into the living room.
I offered the wrapped present first. "This is from the son who loves, respects, and honors the single most important woman in his life." She giggled, tore the gift paper off, opened the jewelry box and gasped. A long strand of pearls lay nestled within and her look at me was priceless.
She read the authentication certificate and shook her head. "These are Ceylonese pearls, Ronnie, and very expensive. I can't accept them, son, as much as I want to."
I put my hands behind my back and replied "Didn't you always tell me it was impolite to refuse a gift?" She sighed then lifted the pearls out of the box.
"They're very lovely, Ron, thank you." she said as she stepped forward, touched my cheek, and gave me a light thank you kiss. "I need a mirror to arrange these properly." she murmured to herself before turning to walk towards her bedroom.
I followed her and watched as she sat at her vanity table and proceeded to wrap the strands around her slim neck. As she fussed with a few minor adjustments I walked up behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder. She tilted her head back and gave me a sweet smile before placing her hand on top of mine and giving it a squeeze. "They're lovely, Ron, thank you."
I took a deep breath and felt light-headed as I held out her second gift. "The pearls were from a son to his mother but this second gift is from Ron to Helen." I told her in a low and husky voice.
She looked at the silvery egg I held in my other hand and then looked up at me in puzzlement. I felt my face heat from embarrassment as I told her "It goes inside of you."
