Chapter Three -- His Father's Footsteps
Richard drove home and reversed the trailer down the driveway and got to work filling it with the pile of crap from the attic. All the while he was thinking about Susan Connaught with her ample ass on that desk with her skirts up and her legs wrapped around him in those gorgeous stockings while he fucked her hard.
Then he imagined Melissa Mitchum in those silky white leggings with the open crotch perched on his mother's card table while he jackhammered his cock in and out of her. Finally he recalled Silvia Swanson bent over the bathroom vanity with her skirt hoiked up her scrawny buttocks encased in white satin panties with yellow polka dots with sheer-to-the-waist pantyhose worn over them. His cock sliding in out of the little hole she had made in her pantyhose so he could fuck her.
He'd now fucked three of his mother's closest friends. There was only Elspeth Longmire for him yet screw. He was very much aware that he was following in his father's footsteps.
When he'd loaded the trailer he drove down to the town dump and unloaded it. He drove back home, unhitched the trailer and lowered the jockey wheel so he could push it out of the way of the driveway. Inside the house Katerina, his mother's housekeeper, had left him a sandwich, a pickle and packet of his favourite chips. He devoured the meal and went back to work lugging more junk down from the attic, loading it into the box trailer. When the trailer was full he called it quits and took a six-pack out to the patio and hit the pool.
After swimming a few laps he floated on an inflatable lilo and drank beer and thought about all the great sex he had been having ever since he'd come back to stay with his mother at Bellenau. He pondered briefly the situation with his wife Victoria but decided not to call her again until he received the divorce papers. He'd let her make the first move.
In the early evening he received a text from his mother advising him that she wouldn't be home until late because there was some kind of dispute with Ford over the latest consignment of vehicles to one of the dealerships. He microwaved a Lean Cuisine, finished the beers and had an early night.
Around midnight he woke up still feeling a little hungry after his busy day. He went downstairs to get a snack, barefoot and dressed in the shorts and t-shirt he wore to bed. He saw the glow of the television coming from the lounge room and padded silently into the room.
His mother lay face down on the lounge fast asleep, a half-eaten sandwich and an empty wine glass on the coffee table in front of her. She had come home from work exhausted, made herself a light dinner and fallen asleep in front of the TV. The TV was muted and the remote control was on the floor beside her.
She was still wearing the bone coloured skirt suit she had worn to work that morning although her jacket was folded over the back of the couch and her high heels were sitting neatly side by side under coffee table.
Richard sneaked up on her. Emily was in a deep sleep, her face furrowed and hair tousled but she was still a pretty lady. Richard leaned down and softly kissed her cheek and she didn't stir. Her skirt had ridden up exposing her long legs clad in smoky-grey, lustrous pantyhose. The darker nylon of her control-tops was clearly visible in the light cast by the TV as were her pristine white panties.
The full-cut panties were bunched in the cleft of her buttocks and stretched tight across her magnificent ass. He could smell her perfume and a hint of cigarette smoke. His mother only smoked when she was stressed or drinking heavily. Richard couldn't resist the temptation and he carefully lowered his face to her bottom and sniffed the crotch of her panties. He could smell her perfume mixed with a feminine hygiene product and a scintilla of tangy vaginal secretions.
His cock was hard. Being so close to his mother in such a vulnerable state with her clothes in disarray was exciting. He tapped her lightly on the shoulder but she didn't budge. She remained in a coma-like sleep oblivious to his presence. He carefully knelt down on the floor and began to explore his mother's body. Her red nailpolished toenails were shrouded by the dark reinforced toes of her nylons and he sniffed her feet. He inhaled the vinegary scent of her foot odour mixed with the redolence of shoe deodoriser. The bouquet was heady and made his cock quiver.
Richard traced a fingertip along the back of her nylon-sheathed calf, pausing to caress the little wrinkles in her stockings behind her knees and then moved slowly up her thighs until he came to the dark bands of her control tops. The lustrous fabric covering his mother's flesh felt delightfully sleek. The audaciousness and downright depravity of what he was doing elevated his desires.
Dare he touch her panties?
He did.
Richard ever so carefully placed a hand on his mother's buttock. The satin panty material slid sensuously over her pantyhose. He took his cock in his hand as he let the fingers of his free hand stroke and caress his mother's bottom. He slipped a finger into the crease of her buttocks and felt the warmth of her pubis nestled inside the gauzy crevice. He removed his finger and sniffed it, inhaling his mother's essence, stroking his quivering organ, trying to control his breathing.
He'd spied on his mother many times but he had never actually touched her intimately and the experience was heady and mind-blowing. He wanted to put his cock on her ass, to poke it into that tight silky crevice and hump her panty-swaddled crack. He continued to play with his mother's legs and ass, getting a little bolder as she seemed oblivious to what he was doing to her. She remained in a deep sleep, breathing regularly and unmoving.
Richard was close to extremis and had been holding back his orgasm. He desperately wanted to mount his mother, to hold her close and feel her body against his, to smell her sweet scent while be fucked her pantyhosed thighs and panty-clad bottom but he knew doing so would be suicidal so he made do with fondling her while she slept.
He couldn't hold back any longer and he so desperately wanted to put his cock on his mother that he surrendered common sense and caution and stood up and pressed his cock against his mother's stocking-sheathed calf. The feeling was mind-blowingly unbelievable. She silky feel of her nylons and the resilience of her flesh against his cock triggered his orgasm.
Richard's intent was to move his cock off his mother's leg as soon as he felt extremis but he was either unwilling or unable to do so and he shot his steamy load all over her legs. Gobbets of semen spattered on her limbs as Richard suppressed a moan as his intense orgasm bloomed and wracked his body. He realised that it was too late and the damage was done so he kept rubbing his cock on his mother's nylon-sheathed calf until he was spent.
He was instantly mortified. What had he done!
The backs of mother's legs were spattered with globules of creamy white semen. It was already starting to soak into her nylons. The gauzy grey nylon darkened as his seminal fluids were absorbed by the diaphanous textile.
Richard stuffed his till dripping cock back in his shorts and snatched up the paper napkin folded neatly beside the plate that held his mother's half-eaten sandwich. He dabbed at the glutinous mess on the back his mother's calves and thighs, doing so as gently as he could so as not to awaken her. When he had cleaned up as best he could he stood back and looked at his handiwork.
The white gobbets of spermatozoa were gone but his mother's nylons were damp where they had absorbed the watery prostatic secretions. There was nothing he could do about that. He hoped that the damp patches would dry before his mother awoke and that they wouldn't stain.
