The beginning of this story took place over two years ago. If the reader would like to become familiar with the background; the sequence is: At My Mother's Breast, Mother's Breast (the reunion) and Mother's Breast (the morning after).
Thanks to
PinkDelphi
for editing assistance.
***
I don't think the forty-something woman, wrapped in the terrycloth robe, ever tried to be sexy or spent much time thinking about it. She is a modest, unassuming lady raised as a farmer's daughter.
Her wardrobe has always been proper; consistent with current styles but never extreme. Her lingerie is mostly full-cut, white cotton panties and under-wire brassieres of the same sterile white cotton. Her only concession to pride would be a pair or two of full-cut nylon panties in pale yellow or pale blue with a little lace trim and matching bras, full cupped and under-wired, of course.
Contrary to her wardrobe choices, she is passionate about lipstick and nail polish. Possibly because of her pale, freckle dusted skin she always chooses vivid colors of scarlet and pink. The colors usually clash with her long, flaming, copper colored tresses but she manages to pull it off.
She needn't try to be sexy; she is a lovely woman, with large breasts, a great bottom that swells out from a relatively trim waist, and good legs with firm thighs. The little protruding belly, tiny crows-feet around the mouth and eyes and the inevitable age lines on her neck are all upstaged by her cameo-like countenance.
Though unaware, she has a naturally sensuous manner that hints of waiting pleasures. In the vernacular of the uncouth she has that
catch me, fuck me look.
Last night was the very first time I made love to the woman now preparing to join me for breakfast. In the short time we've been together here at Caesar's Palace we've made love twice, orally stimulated each other and given each other a bath.
She is my mother and I am in love with her. Last night she reluctantly submitted to me and now we are not only mother and son we are lovers.
I had always been sexually attracted to my mother, taking every opportunity to observe her nudity in the bath or various states of undress. Shortly before leaving for the Navy, I observed my puritan mother with someone other than my father. While she was aware of my discovery, neither of us ever mentioned the incident. After that she became my obsession and the woman of my fantasies. I eventually realized I was in love with her. The incident is now two years past.
Returning from a recent Pacific cruise with the Navy, I invited my family to meet me in Las Vegas for a small vacation. Karma prevailed. Because of schedules, my mother was the only one that could make the trip. We shared the same hotel room and last night I successfully seduced her and in doing so I believe she became my submissive; a state of mind she has yet to fully grasp.
Fresh from our shared bath she looks radiant as she moves from closet to drawer selecting her clothes for the afternoon. I watched her choose a pair of white cotton panties.
"No panties, mom."
"But Max?"
"Mother, no underwear!"
"Yes, Max."
She returned the panties and stood looking into the drawer. After a few seconds of indecision she lifted up a white brassiere and looked at me questioningly.
"Max, may I wear this?"
"Come here and let me see if you need a bra," I returned.
She walked across the room, opened her robe and stood for my inspection. Her fleshy breasts hung down and a little to the side from their own weight, the proud, tan colored nipples and the puckered areolas gave testament to her awakening excitement. I lifted both heavy tits off her chest by the nipples and let them fall back. I knew she would be self-conscious without the support of her brassiere.
"Sure, mom," I said. "You can wear it. At least for now."
She finished dressing in the clothes she had picked out for the day, a white knee- length skirt, white tank top just reaching the swell of her hips, and white sandals. The only color other than pink lipstick and nail polish was a jade green necklace and bracelet.
The skirt was snug across her hips and the mid-afternoon light from the window silhouetted the naked legs beneath. The now-confined tits strained the front of the tank top. Even in a town full of young, beautiful and sexy women, I knew she would be attracting attention and I enjoyed the thought.
"Mom, you look very beautiful, men will be following you around."
"If they do, they'll follow me into a restaurant. Let's go," she returned.
Alone in the elevator, I pulled my mother to me and kissed her tenderly while my hands caressed her full hips. She willingly responded, pressing herself against me and opening her mouth to receive my tongue. Her perfume filled the elevator making me light-headed.
We entered a restaurant serving breakfast all day and found a small table by a window. As we crossed the room my earlier thoughts were confirmed. My mother was attracting some male attention.
"Hey, mom, you're getting the eye," I said in a low tone.
"Max, honey, don't you think a woman knows when she's being looked at? Right now I'm more interested in food then anything else."
We sat down at converging sides of the table. I leaned over and gave her a brief kiss on the mouth, our first real kiss in public.
