Alarm Clock Ch 02

"Feed me," I said, pulling off her tit, licking the last leaking drop of milk, "before I faint."

She giggled and rolled out of bed before I could capture her.

I still enjoyed watching her walk away. She was no longer slim. We celebrated her 50th birthday a few years ago. But she worked hard to maintain. Her ass was softer than it had once been, and showed the first hints of cellulite, but still moved nicely, especially since she put extra sway into it knowing I was watching. Her shoulders were broad and her muscle definition had not left her from her teenage years as a gymnast. Her legs were good too although her thighs had gotten heavier over the years and there was no longer any light below her pussy.

I rolled out of bed, peed, and joined her in the kitchen. I loved watching her in the kitchen. She wore one of those old-fashioned aprons, around her neck and tied around her waist. "Bacon pops," she had told me, long ago, the first time she made me breakfast naked.

And the woman could cook. In ten minutes she had coffee ready and in 15 more I had an omelet, bacon, toast, and orange juice in front of me. And I had her, on the other side of the kitchen table, apronless now, smiling at me.

We ate in one of those companionable silences that only those who have been together for a long time can enjoy.

Finished, the dishes washed and put away, she turned to me.

"Okay, student-o-mine," she said, smiling and putting her arms around my neck, pulling me down for a kiss, "bath or shower?"

I kissed her back.

"I think a shower," I said, "I've got 30 freshmen today and I can't be smelling like your pussy."

She giggled and slapped me on the chest, lightly.

"Or your cum," she said, taking my hand and leading me into the bathroom.

I had chosen the shower because that way we would both get cleaned up. If she gave me a bath, well, I would be the only one clean when we were done. Of course, it would lead to more play and I did have to get to school. The life of a lowly Teaching Assistant is like that.

While she was soaping me up I got hard again, making her giggle.

"Jesus," she said, soaping my erection, "I gave birth to a damn rabbit."

She finished me quickly. God knows she knew how by now. And then finished washing me.

"Should I return the favor?" I asked, washing her face, and then her hair before moving on to her body.

"I'm good honey," she said, "you're a wonderful wake-up."

We finished washing, and then drying each other. Since I had just ejaculated I stayed soft, a necessity for what was next.

Dry, hair brushed, teeth brushed, mom's light makeup on, ready to face the day, it was time to get dressed.

She reached into the "Going Out Alone" drawer and crooked her finger, beckoning me. She dropped to her knees and started assembling the cock cage I wore whenever I was out alone. First was the urethral probe, a very shiny, and very clean stainless steel tube shaped into a quarter circle. She lubricated it well and then inserted it through the head of my cock, forcing it into an arc, pointing straight down. The cage, another shiny stainless steel thing went over it and the ring under my balls and the shaft of my cock, with the tiny brass padlock to hold it together, ensured I wouldn't be messing around with anybody but her. She finished with the little knob/stopper on the end, allowing me to pee although I would have to sit down to do it.

I love my mom. Hell, I'm in love with her. But when you're 26 and, I like to think, easy on the eyes, and pretty regularly are dealing with pretty college freshmen of the female persuasion who say shit like, "Please Mr. Morgan (not my real last name of course), I'd do anything for a grade," complete with a cute smile and batting eyes, well, temptation is powerful and I'm not a saint.

I reached into the drawer and brought out her chastity belt. It's a pretty thing really, a shiny stainless steel belt with a leather padded stainless piece that goes between her legs. I drew the belt tight enough that her waist was pinched with soft flesh pushed out above and below it and then locked the between-the-legs piece with a little brass padlock that matched the one now in place above my cock.

As I said, I love my mom but I understand her too well. If not for the belt, well, she has big appetites. This way she'd be even hungrier when I unlatched her. She had assured me, all my life, that what was between her legs was mine and if she flirted a little it was just that, flirting. But, well, better safe than sorry.

"Now don't you be late," she said, flashing her Grin, feral and wolfish, "you know what tonight is."

I shivered a little and said, "you know I do."

She kissed me goodbye and I headed off for another Tuesday as a graduate student.

Mom would be home. She had an interesting little sideline, writing sort of pornographic stories and selling them. We didn't need the money. My father, I never refer to him as "dad," might be an asshole, but he was good about sending the regular check, and a sizable check it was. Mom had worked hard, putting my father through med school and then getting the practice set up. When I came along, kind of a surprise, he had bailed but the divorce got mom 49 percent of everything that practice made so we weren't hurting for money.

And tonight was Tuesday and at 7:22 p.m. I would receive my maintenance spanking.