The first day of the challenge to win James' heart. Don't expect Momma to play by the rules...
Monday May 29th, 1:15pm
I was preparing a new fixed-gear single-speed bike, (otherwise known as a "fixie"), for delivery. It's called that because the gears are fixed - the drivetrain has no freewheel mechanism. It's extremely simple - the chainwheel moves, the chain moves, your legs move. Myself, I think fixies make no sense unless you have massive moose thighs, but some people just love 'em.
My boss, Roger Layton, had stepped out to lunch, so when I heard the bell on the door jingle I went out to the showroom to help the customer. Lo and behold, it was Momma.
Her hair was tied back, she was wearing a tight white V-necked T-shirt that said 'They're Real, and They're Fabulous' on the front, tight jeans and cowboy boots. As I walked up to her she turned the lock on the front door and flipped the "Open" sign to "Closed".
I was afraid I already knew the answer, but I had to ask, "Momma, what are you doing here?"
She sidled up next to me, and began rubbing herself on me like a housecat in the mood for attention. "Now since when do I need permission to come and see my only son?" Her hand brushed across the crotch of my coveralls and she smiled seductively.
"Your boss is out, how about you take me back into the shop so you can show me your toolbox?" Standing on tiptoe she brushed her lips across mine, and whispered in my ear. "I'd really like a personal tour, and I'll make it worth your while." She turned me around and gave me a light shove towards the workshop entrance.
"Now, Momma," I protested, "the challenge doesn't start until 5:30pm tonight! Besides, Roger will be back any minute."
"No, he won't. I saw him today while he was standing in line waiting for his sandwich at the deli. I told him I had a ticket to the matinee showing of that that new superhero movie at the Cineplex, but it turned out couldn't use it and offered it to him. I'm sure he's sitting there right now, munching his popcorn and enjoying his superheroes like a good little boy."
We passed through the workshop entrance, which was one of those old swinging kitchen doors with a porthole in it. Just to the left was Roger's desk, covered with files dating back to when he opened the shop in 1998. I had somehow managed to drag Roger into the 21st century; in the middle of the piles of files was the monitor for a desktop computer I had given him for Christmas.
The desk had another Christmas gift I gave him: a 5-wheeled pedestal executive leather chair with all the ergonomic adjustments. It was big and comfy and Momma pushed me right down in it. In a flash she was on her knees with the fly to my coveralls undone, sucking furiously on my cock. Any protest I was trying to make about her being unfair to Katie somehow died in my throat.
I lay my head back as she sucked, licked, and caressed my cock and ball sack. "Just think," she said in between slurps, "If I win, I can be your little whore. You can brag to your friends about what a good little cocksucker I am. You could even bring them home, they can watch while I suck you, or I can suck them too. I can suck a lot of cock. I'll do anything for you, James."
My head was close to exploding from pleasure. She took her mouth off me and continued her dirty dialogue as she stroked. But if she thought I liked it...well, it turns out she was right!
"I had a date last week. I was sucking this guy and I told him my son was bigger." Her hand was going up and down my slick cock in a frenzy, and I was drawing close to my release. "I thought he would freak out and leave, but it made him hornier, more competitive, he ended up fucking me really hard, asking who was better now. I lied and told him he was, but tonight I'll be able to really compare notes and find out, won't I?"
Instead of answering, I groaned loudly and shot my load. It flew across the room, landed perfectly on the seat and spokes of the fixie bike I was getting ready for delivery at 2:00pm. Wearing a huge smile now, Momma rubbed my cock across her face. "You liked that. You'll see how good I can be tonight, won't you?"
Oh NO! The fixie! Panicked, I pushed her to the ground, got to my feet and zipped up. "Damn it, Momma! I had this bike almost ready to go, now I have ten minutes to clean my cum off the seat before the guy gets here! GET OUT!" The more I thought about it, the madder I got.
Turning away from her, I set myself to cleaning up the bike, deliberately ignoring Momma. I heard the bell on the door jingle, and she was gone.
Monday, 5:30pm
Thanks to Momma's visit I got off work a little late, so it was 5:48pm when I tapped on Katie's door, still dressed in my work clothes: sneakers and coveralls with my name ("James") over the left front pocket.
The door opened, and there stood my vision of loveliness. "You're late, darling" she said, standing up on tiptoe to demurely kiss my cheek, "but you're the boss, so it's OK. I've just been on needles and pins waiting for you."
"I'm sorry I kept you waiting my love," I told her as I hugged her, catching the sweet light scent of her soap that I loved. "Let me go change clothes." I took my messenger bag into the bathroom and changed into some dark blue slacks and a light grey dress shirt, and swapped my sneakers for some casual brown loafers.
"You clean up nicely," she said, smiling as I came out. Taking her hands in mine, I stepped back and looked her up and down. Her beauty took my breath away. She was the essence of innocence.
She was wearing very subtle makeup, her bright red lipstick the only thing that hinted at something not so innocent. Her shoulder-length dishwater blonde hair was now trimmed fashionably, and she had added bright blonde highlights that shimmered in the light, a white bow perched enticingly above her right ear.
She was wearing a pretty summer dress, knee-length, yellow with small white polka-dots. The button-down front of the dress tightly clung to the curve of her big breasts, but the high neckline kept things demure, not a hint of the sweet cleavage beneath. The elasticized waist pulled the line of the dress back against her thin body, accenting the swell of her breasts from underneath.
From her knees on down, silky smooth legs led to feet encased in dress sandals with demure 1" heels and two white leather straps with buckle closures. Her recently-pedicured feet were perfect, her toenails glistening with innocent clear polish. She was an angel, all she needed was wings.
On the table was a meal fit for a king. "I hope you like it because tonight I want you to see how I'll cook as your wife." As I sat down, she unfolded a fancy cloth napkin and laid it in my lap. Was it an accident that this chaste little angel brushed the back of her hand against my cock when she laid the napkin down?
"Katie, this all looks fantastic!" I exclaimed. And it was: chopped Italian style salad, lobster bisque, and perfectly prepared NY strip steak, slightly pink in the middle, just how I like it. We sat and ate quietly, me savoring each morsel. Katie seemed nervous and only picked at her food, but after I finished and genuinely praised her culinary skills, she started to relax.
After we finished eating dinner, Katie went into the kitchen and brought out two tall fluted glasses and a bottle of sparkling wine. Putting them next to each other on the table, she poured a small amount of champagne into each glass, let the froth settle for a moment, then filled them both three-quarters full.
She looked into my eyes as she raised the glass so I could take it. "I wanted everything perfect tonight. I even read an etiquette book on how to pour champagne, darling. I love you so much."
"And I love you, sweetie. Although I didn't show it, when Momma challenged you I was scared you'd back down and I'd lose you. I can't tell you how proud I am of you and your courage."
My little blonde angel looked down and blushed. Her eyes started to tear up, which I found, um, stimulating. (I've since found the condition is called dacryphilia - sexual arousal from crying or tears - and yeah, I have it!) I stood and went over to her, wrapping my arms around her from behind. She smelled enticingly of soap and spices, and it was all I could do not throw her on the floor and take her. "Please don't cry, sweetie, you'll ruin your make up."