Chapter 3
The sun was up and working several hours before I woke up.
Mom was much more exhausted than even she had felt, adrenaline fueling her body, until it wasn't, then the crash came, and she was slower to recover, so it was not difficult for me to slip out of bed without waking her. I had not jumped right up... I lay there thinking for quite a while wondering what really had happened to bring all of this on and where it was headed. Was it a runaway train destined to crash and burn, or could I really control it and guide it to take mom, and me, to someplace we both wanted to go?
I thought about waking her up to a good pussy licking, or a nice hard cock... (I was recovering and ready to go again) but in the end I decided that it wasn't a "honeymoon" so I did not have to spend every waking minute for the next couple of days fucking our brains out... I could relax and enjoy... figure out where I wanted to take this and see if mom really did just want to go along for the pleasure of the ride.
Getting up I realized that I had no clothes in "our" room... walking down the hall I remembered leaving the clothes we took off in the kitchen last night/early this morning, so I walked naked down stairs.
The clothes were there so I put my tee shirt and shorts on and picked up mom's robe from the pile on the floor. I remembered the puddle of pee, now dried, but in no less need of a good clean up, then remembered what I had thought about, using mom as a human mop. I sat at the table, thinking about how I could make that happen.
It would test how far she was willing to go right from the start. I had no doubt that her horizons would expand as we continued to push the boundaries and self imposed limits... but this would show me if she was committed to what she had started, or if she was seriously reconsidering...
I had never seen her wear anything like a tube top, so I would have to create something that I could wrap around, or across her tits to act as a mop head. She was too big to just tie a dish towel or hand towel around her and a bath towel was too unwieldy... I settled on an old flannel sheet that was set aside for rags.
Folded three times for thickness and absorbing capabilities, I cut it long enough to go around her front and connect in the back, leaving three strips on each side to be used as ties across her back, cinching it up. Then, because I did not have any nice soft silk rope, something I was going to have to rectify soon, I cut strips to be used as "ties."
Once I was done with these preparations I went back up stairs and left a note on my pillow telling her to braid her hair in one long center braid, wear the 3 inch heels I set out for her and nothing else and then join me, and maybe a couple of friends, for coffee in the kitchen. (I threw in the "friends" to see how she would react.)
Her robe hung over a kitchen chair, sitting drinking my third cup of bitter, life giving elixir, I waited, pondering the next few "adventures" I could, and would be willing to orchestrate.
One of my personal revelations was that I was not quite as "unattached" to my mom being "used and/or abused" by some other bastard... friend or stranger... I had to figure out how far I was willing to go to take her were she wanted to go. I was going to maybe have to get MY head and heart right.
Half an hour and the bottom of a fourth cup later and I heard her tentatively working her way down the stairs. She was trying to be quiet. She stopped and waited, probably listening to try and see if I was alone, or had, indeed invited company.
Indecision or just natural hesitation...?
I picked up an empty coffee cup and mine, then put them down almost, but not quite at the same time, pulled a chair out, scraping it against the floor and then said, "No... wait... she will be here soon..."
I heard her gasp, then imagined her setting herself to do what I told her to do... what she said she would do, then she came around the corner, tits bouncing, nipples hard, naked as could be.
"Good morning Matth..."
She stopped dead in her tracks, totally surprised that it was only me sitting there.
The build up of adrenaline, to get up the courage to appear naked in front of "Godonlyknewwho" and then the resulting dump just about had her on the floor. She flushed, gasped, sagged, held on to the back of a chair, looked around quickly to make sure, then said, "You bastard!"
"You would know that better than I..."
I stood up, helped her into the chair, then turned and got her a cup of coffee.
She was still a bit shaky as she took the first few sips and cussed me, chuckling with relief.
"So that went well..."
She looked knives at me.
"You came down... you did not "ring the bell..." you pushed yourself past your comfort zone."
"No shit! Way, way past!"
"I'll bet your soaking wet right now."
She looked over the rim of the cup at me.
"Show me how wet your pussy is mom... how wet did it make you thinking you were going to have unknown eyes on you naked and that I might tell you to do something forbidden, nasty, to whomever it might be sitting here with me."
"This is not going to be as easy as I thought it would be..." she said as she put her cup down, blushed at me as she slipped a hand down and ran fingers across her cunt lips."
"Ohhh fuck Matthew... so wet... so sensitive. We are really going to do this aren't we?"
She put her elbow on the table, right next to a tit that was resting there. Her fingers glistening in the late morning sunlight.
"Yes mom... we really are... and your next adventure starts... now,
Clean your fingers off Mary and then stand up next to the sink."
She licked, then sucked her fingers clean of pussy, then stood up, jiggling her tits at me... not horrible ostentatiously... but obvious enough for me not to miss it.
She smiled and went over to the counter by the sink. I followed her turned her to face the counter and told her to raise her arms and stand still.
I pulled my improvised "mop head" out of the adjacent cupboard and wrapped it around her front, making sure her tits were well encased, then tied the ties behind her back, cinching them up to make sure that nothing fell out or came loose.
"What is..." she began to ask as I brought it out.
My palm slapped her bare ass and made her jump and yelp.
"Be quiet. Tools don't talk or ask questions... they exist to serve. Stand still and do as you are told."
