Mother's Dreams

The following evening, Mother came up with a naughty idea. Her Son having returned from college liked to take a shower in the evenings. Biding her time, the sexy older woman waited until her Son had turned on the shower. She crept upstairs, placing her high heels on the floor. He had turned on the radio as usual - perfect!

Turning the bathroom handle, Mother carefully padded into the room. With just them in the house, her Son didn't bother locking the door. The steam in the room was pretty thick. She could make out the sillhouette of her 19 year old Son washing himself. The Mother paused and considered her would-be slave. A wicked smile crossed her lips.

Then Mother remembered the task in hand. She turned to the towel rack and the bathroom floor and gathered all of her Son's clothes and the towel. Smirking to herself, Mother padded out of the bathroom in her stockinged feet, gently closing the door.

Quickly making her way across the landing, Mother dumped her Son's belongings into her wardrobe and then tiptoed out and slid her black stilettos back on. She opened her bedroom door and sat on the edge of her bed, crossing her long legs and pretending to look at a magazine.

A few moments later, the door to the bathroom opened and out stepped her Son. His chest glistened with moisture, water dripped from his face, shoulders, nipples. He brushed his dark hair back, Mother watched with mock surprise as her eyes travelled down to his penis. Thick, dark, framed by his pubic hair beautifully, droplets hanging from his foreskin.

Mother swallowed, a little nervously and then turned to her Son, he was looking with confusion at an empty airing cupboard. She pushed her breasts forward beneath the thin blouse.

"Son? Is everything alright?"

Her Son jumped and instinctively covered himself with his hand.

"What happened to all my stuff?"

"I had to put the washing on..."

Her Son nodded and then looked up, wearing a quizzical expression.

"Um, the washing machine isn't on, I can't hear it."

Mother bit her lip. "Your Mother hasn't started it yet."

"Oh..."

"You can uncover yourself, it's nothing I haven't seen before."

Her Son's hands remain where they are for a second and looking at his Mother's gaze - commanding without being harsh - he lifted his hands up. Mother's mouth opens a little as she studied the shape of her Son's heavy cock, his balls bunched pleasantly beneath.

"I... I think I have some underwear for you."

Mother uncrossed her legs and then went across to the drawer. She walked slowly and steadily knowing his eyes would be on her, on her pert ass, this incredible sensual presence in his, their, home.

Mother retrieved a pair of underwear that she knew would please her.

The pants are tiny, a boy's navy blue fronts. Mother pinched them at either side and slowly walked towards her Son. Shaking his wet fringe away, he coughs and laughs. Mother raised her eyebrows and addressed her Son quietly and firmly.

"They're all you have clean. Now... put them on."

Taking the pants from his Mother, the Son bent forward, getting an eyeful of his Mother's legs and then, duitifully pulled the pants up.

The Mother tried convey an air of maternal authority, but inside her pulse raced. She leaned forward, close to her Son's body, still warm and smelling fresh from the shower and with her manicured fingers she gently tugged at the pants that revealed her Son's impressive bulge so well.

Her fingers were inches away from his cock, that appeared to be hardening in the tight material.

"There we go. You can run along now."

Her Son nodded and turned for his bedroom. Mother was astounded at what had happened, controlling her excitement as her Son's cute ass walked away from her, covered by the thinly stretched material.

The burning in her pussy flared and she thought about returning to her room to frig herself there and then... Then Mother relented, realising she could get more out of the situation.

She called her Son back and he appeared at the doorway to his bedroom, towelling his hair with a spare t-shirt.

It was then, with the same quiet authority that the Mother announced she'd be replacing all of his old clothes with new ones and that he was to bring ALL his clothes down to the kitchen so she could bag them. Her Son's protests, mainly surrounding a few favourite t-shirts fell on deaf ears. The Mother simply put her hands on her hips and bent her knee out slightly, emerging from beneath the black skirt.

"I have improved my appearance... you will do the same."

Five minutes later the beautiful, calculating Mother sat crossed legged on her kitchen table, her skirt riding high up her thighs. She felt glorious.

Her Son, naked save for the pants, emphasising his now full bulge, brought a pile of old clothes to the table.

She smiled as he put the clothes down and stood before her, her stiletto heel dangling from the toe of her foot.

"Good boy." She smiled.

The following morning, Mother awoke breathless from her dreams. Her Son had been fucking her slowly from behind in a mirrored palace. She laid across an altar, ass in the air, moaning with deep pleasure as their reflections shone through the hallway. Her fingers had gripped the stone as her Son penetrated her deeper and more thoroughly than ever before. The tip of his cock had nudged at her womb as if eager to return to the place he'd emerged from. Her cries echoed as the pleasure intensified. And then her Son had cum for his Queen. His cock throbbed violently as the cum erupted inside her. It sprayed all through her and it didn't stop... the cum filled her, it began to run back out of her pussy. The semen flowed down across her exquisite black stockings, splashed all over the black shiny leather of her spiked heels. Her own orgasm tore through her as she twisted on the stone tablet, cum starting to splatter against the reflective glass.

As reality broke back in to view, the Mother was exhausted from her dream. Pushing the duvet from her body she smiled as she realised how warm it was. The night before she'd turned the heating up to full. Her fingers moved down to her pussy and she fingered the moistness, mind drifting back to her semen splattered incestuous orgasm. As the Mother fingered herself she heard her the voice of her Son... he was calling her from downstairs.

The Mother dressed in the black satin gown she'd bought and slipped on a pair of black marabou slippers. By the kitchen table stood her Son dressed only in the tight pants she had given him to wear. She admired his ass for a second before seeing the package he'd placed on the table. She feigned misunderstanding about why the heating was so warm, instead she concentrated on the parcel.

She recognised it as the costume she had ordered for the fake party she had lied to her Son about.

Fingering the package with a lascivious smile, she told her Son that her costume had arrived. She then intimated she may need help trying it on. As the Mother scooped up the package, her Son felt himself hardening in his tight underwear once more.

Mother showered quickly, excited by the treasures in store. It was hard to keep her fingers from her eager cunt. Wrapping herself back in the gown, the Mother opened the door and saw her Son holding the package she had left on the bed by her bedroom door. He stood holding it in two hands like an attentive butler, eyes straight ahead. Mother smiled and drifted past him.

"Come along then..."

He made short work of the packaging as the Mother dropped her gown. Looking up he almost gasped at the sight of his Mother's naked body framed in the morning light. Reaching into the drawer she pulled out the scantiest pair of panties she owned, black, lacy, definitely racy. She stepped into them and then turned to her Son.

She put her hands on her hips, his eyes transfixed by her milky white breasts. She instructed him to lay out the outfit on the bed.

Her Son's cock grew harder as he laid out the costume. The outfit was entitled 'Wicked Stepmother'.

It was in black leather, yet surprisingly light. Then there came the boots, just like the ones he had picked out. Dark, shiny, all the way to the thigh.

Mother praised her Son and then removed her stockings and suspender belt from the drawer. She carefully fixed the belt around her waist and then straighted out the stocking. Her Son stood by her bed, hands behind his back, cock bulging proudly as the Mother drew the black stockings up each of her elegant legs, smiling at her Son as she did each. Her fingers buckled the dark nylon to each of the clips and then pulled the dress off the chair. Mother stepped into the long, black leather dress and then coughed for her Son's attention. He hurried over and duitifully zipped up the back. Then her Son pulled down the boots and Mother stepped her dark, nyloned legs into them. Once more the Son pulled up the zips.

It was then his Mother was transformed. Delighted she walked to the mirror with poise and grace, admiring the effect of the leather. Her breasts were bunched nicely in the dress, her ass and legs looked magnificent. As she looked in the mirror her Son urgently fingered the bulge in his pants. As she turned, she strode towards her Son and placed one finger on his young chest.

"Kneel before your Queen."