A Boy's Best FriendbyJ©
Inspired by Peter
It was over at last. I couldn’t believe it. Three of the worst years of my life were nearly at an end. It wasn’t that I hated college because of my studies. In fact, I was expecting an honours degree from all the work I’d put in. No, it was my fellow classmates that had made my life so miserable. It’s not like I’m a spotty nerd or anything. It’s just that I’m not into sports. And if you’re not into sports, then you don’t get to hang around with the guys. And if you don’t hang around with the guys, then you don’t get the girls. And if you don’t get the girls, then you don’t get spoken to by the guys; it’s a vicious circle.
But all of that would soon be behind me. The only activity left was the ‘End of an Era’ school party that was being held at the gym tomorrow, Friday. But I had long decided not to go. Showing up without a date would have been the final humiliation for me. So, I told Mom and Dad of my decision on the phone last week, and said that I’d be catching the 4pm flight home on the day of the dance. Then I would never have to see any of my classmates again; I’d be three thousand miles away.
Thursday night’s sleep was the best I had had in three years. I awoke at around ten on a hot summer morning, had a light breakfast and started to pack. I had the biggest smile on my face that you could possibly imagine. After lunch, I decided to take one last look around the one bedroom ground floor apartment that had been my home away from home for three years. I was thinking how funny it would be to share a house with Mom and Dad again.
It was while I was in this daydreaming state that I heard the doorbell ring. When I opened my apartment door and saw who was standing there, my mind went blank for about thirty seconds. Eventually, tired of my seeming lack of consciousness, I heard her speak.
‘Well, Peter, honey, are you going to let your Mom in, or should I stand here all day?’
‘Sure, sure.’ I replied quickly, banging the side of my head with my right hand, just to make sure I wasn’t seeing things. But no, that was definitely Mom standing in front of me in the living room.
‘Be a sweetie and bring my things in off the porch, darling. I’ve had such a terribly long and tiring flight. And do close your mouth, you’re not seeing an illusion. It really is me.’
I went out to the porch to see a cab pulling away from the kerb and Mom’s things on the top step. I picked up the small valise and two dress carriers and carried them inside.
‘Jeez, Mom, what are you doing here? I’m going home in three hours.’
Mom sat down on the couch and began to speak.
‘When you phoned last week and told your Father and I that you weren’t going to the end of school dance, it almost broke our hearts. We know that you’ve not enjoyed your time here, but in a few years you’ll come to regret not going to the final part of your college days. You’ll miss the closure that the event carries with it.’
‘But Mom, even if I had a tuxedo and all the trimmings, which I don’t, I wouldn’t go there without a date. That’d make look a real loser.’
Mom asked me to look in the brown dress carrier. I pulled down the zipper to see that inside was a white dress shirt, cummerbund, bow tie and black tux.
‘OK Mom, so you got me the suit. So what am I supposed to do for a date? Or did you bring a girl with you as well?’ I asked, with a heavy dollop of sarcasm.
Mom looked up at me from her seat on the couch with the hint of a smile on her fulsome lips.
‘As a matter of fact, smart-aleck, I did.’
Thinking that I’d left someone outside, I dived over to the window and peered out up and down the street.
‘I don’t see anyone.’ I retorted, miserably.
‘You’re looking the wrong way.’ Mom began. ‘She’s right behind you.’
I turned around slowly to face her. Mom’s smile was now an ear-to-ear grin.
‘It’s me, you silly boy. I’m your date.’
‘Mom, that’s crazy. Who ever heard of a guy taking his mom to the school dance?’
‘I don’t mean take me as your Mom. I mean take me as your date.’
When I looked a little hesitatingly at her, she carried on.
‘Look, nobody here knows that I’m your Mom. You resemble your Father more than me. I mean you’re almost a foot taller than I am, and you have his brown hair and hazel eyes. Providing that you didn’t actually call me Mom it would be easy to fool them all. And besides, neither of us is likely to see any of them again.’
I still looked doubtful, but I recognised the stern look on Mom’s face which meant that she was determined to have her own way.
‘I haven’t come all this way to be refused a date by own son,’ she began, commandingly. We’re going to that dance tonight and that’s final. From what I read, most boys your age would love to have a girlfriend who is, how shall I say, a little mature. Now try your suit on, and I’ll make any adjustments before I go and take a pill and lie down.’
As it happened, the tux and everything else fitted me perfectly, and Mom went to my room at the back of the apartment at around three o’clock, for a nap. I told her that I’d sleep on the couch that night.
At six-fifteen, with Mom still asleep, I had a shower and went back into the living room to dress for the evening. I had my doubts about whether we could pull it off at the dance, and thought about the humiliation of it all if we were to be found out. At six-forty-five, I heard Mom taking a shower, and at seven-twenty, the sound of her heels on the wooden floorboards caused me to look up. Boy, what a sight she was, as she elegantly glided down along the corridor and walked into the living room. I gave out a wolf whistle, and saw Mom blush a little.
‘Your old lady doesn’t scrub up too bad, does she?’ Mom said whilst moving into the classic model’s pose of hands on hips and one foot in front of the other.
I had to admit, she was absolutely stunning. Mom is thirty-nine but has the figure of a girl ten years younger. It was just as well in that dress she was wearing. It was full length, black, strapless, with a split up the front to just above the knee. Any bulges in the wrong place would have made it look terrible, but everything looked good to me. Her long, blond hair was loosely assembled on the top of her head, which highlighted her strong cheekbones, and her lips and nails were painted in a deep red gloss. Around her neck was a thin, black velvet choker, and on her feet a pair of black patent high heeled pumps.
‘Mom, you look absolutely beautiful,’ I said honestly, ‘and so sexy too.’
‘Why thank you kind sir,’ Mom replied, giving a deep curtsey which revealed the tops of her fantastic jugs, ‘and you are a very handsome escort. I’m so pleased that you like my FMD.’
I looked puzzled. ‘FMD?’
Just then the taxi I had ordered sounded its horn. ‘I may tell you about it later.’ Mom said in a provocative tone of voice. ‘Now, before we set foot outside the door, remember, tonight I am your date, Cathy. I am not you Mom. Got it?’
I nodded my understanding.
‘Good. Now, put your arm around my waist and let’s get that cab.’
It felt funny holding my Mom like that as we stepped into the warm evening air. I could almost feel her tight skin under the thin, expensive material of her dress. But Mom gave me a reassuring glance, and I felt better.
As we alighted the taxi just before eight, the party music was already loud from the gym a few hundred yards away. Regaining my hold around Mom’s waist, we walked up to where the noise emanated. The gym was packed with people drinking and dancing and laughing and talking. I already felt out-of-place. Above the sound of the music, it was still easy to hear each other talk. So I asked Mom if she’d like a glass of punch. She nodded and we set off in the direction of the drinks’ table. On the way, we had to pass by a group of guys and their girlfriends who were my classmates. Their conversation stopped immediately they saw Mom and I. I ignored them and carried on.
Moments later, with punch in hand, Mom and I were approached by four of the guys I just mentioned.
‘Evening, sport,’ one of them began, ‘didn’t expect to see you here. Who’s the lovely lady?’
This was the last thing I had wanted. I just thought we would come in, show our faces, be left alone, and then leave. But within two minutes of arriving, here I was, being interrogated by guys I hated. And to make matters worse, my mouth had decided to stop working. After what seemed like hours, Mom gave me a gentle dig to encourage me to answer the question.
‘Hi, guys. Errr, this is my M-M-M..’
‘What Pete means to say,’ Mom interrupted just before I made the one big mistake that would tear the whole ruse apart, ‘ is that I am Cathy, his girlfriend.
The four looked at each other. Then the spokesman began to smile, followed by the others. ‘Well, well, old boy. You’re a bit of a dark horse, aren’t you. Just how long have you two been an item?’
Once again Mom saved the day when my voice deserted me: ‘Pete and I met about a year ago. We’ve been seeing each other at every opportunity.’
I think the guys still had doubts about us, but these were overridden by a curiosity to know more. So they asked Mom and I to join them and their dates on the other side of the room. I was just about to decline the offer, when I heard Mom tell the guys that we’d be delighted.
Half an hour, and two glasses of punch later, Mom and I were at the centre of the crowd. She was charming to the boys and they loved every minute of her attention. Even the girls managed to find me interesting and attractive. Better late than never, I thought.
Just as everything was going swimmingly, or so I thought, Mom motioned to me that she wanted to speak to me alone. I had that stupid puzzled look on my face again, and so it was Mom who took the lead and suggested that we dance.
As I took her hand, I managed to find a quiet spot on the makeshift dance-floor and asked what was wrong.
‘Some of your classmates are beginning to have doubts about us.’ Mom said.
I began to panic, thinking that we were about to be exposed as mother and son.
‘No, it’s not your mother they think I am,’ she continued, ‘they suspect I might be a hooker that you’ve hired for the night.’
‘My god, that’s not much comfort either. What can we do?’
Mom looked up at me with that stern look in her face again.
‘The only thing that will convince them that I’m not a paid escort is if you kiss me.’
‘But, jeez, I can’t do that.’ I complained. ‘Isn’t there another way?’
Mom shook her head. ‘The only thing that a prostitute doesn’t do with a trick is let him kiss her. I know it sounds funny, considering everything else that they will do, but it’s a fact nevertheless. It’s the only way that we’ll stop their nagging doubts. Will you kiss me? I mean, surely it can’t be that unpleasant a prospect.’ She said, with a smile.
I smiled back, and nodded my consent.
So, as the music played and we danced, as my classmates watched closely from the side of the dance area, I took hold of Mom’s bare arms, pulled her towards me, and bent my head down to kiss her lightly on the cheek. When I stood up again, the look on her face was clearly one of anger.
‘What the hell are you doing?’ she whispered, ‘that’s the way a boy kisses his mom. Do you want to do this right or not?’ She hissed.
Mom moved her hands up to my face, and clasped them at the back of my neck. Pulling me towards her, she spoke again:
‘Honey, hold me tightly around the waist, bring your mouth close to mine, and leave the rest to me. Trust me.’
I placed my hands on Mom’s tiny waist and did as she ordered. She pulled my head closer to hers. I was nervous, sweating and awkward. We looked intently into each other’s eyes as her lips touched mine. I felt the sweet taste of her lipstick, smelt the aroma of her perfume, and sensed the heat of her flesh. Still gazing into her eyes, I became aware of Mom’s mouth slowly parting. Then the moistness of a tongue, my Mom’s tongue, touched my lips. Slowly, it searched for an opening in my lips. The look in Mom’s eyes was telling me to let her in. As I allowed a gap to form between my top and bottom lips, I felt mom’s tongue slide into my mouth. Now it was looking for my own tongue. I felt a bolt of electricity roam through my entire body as the tips of our tongues touched. At the same time, I became aware of a hardening within my pants. Jeez, I was french kissing my own mom, and getting a hard-on as well. It was at that point that civilised morals gave way to animal nature. I became an active participant in our clinch. I forced my tongue over Mom’s, and guided it into her mouth. I felt as though we were bruising each other’s lips, such was the pressure we exerted. I slanted my head this way and that in an effort to get deeper into her throat. At the back of my neck, Mom’s hands held my face firmly against hers, whilst I pulled her waist even closer into my body. It was only the poor mixing by the DJ, and the sudden silence of a record that wasn’t set up right, that brought us both back to reality. Reluctantly, I let go of her.
‘Well, I think that should have convinced them.’ I said, feeling terribly embarrassed and self-conscious.
Mom’s face was flushed: ‘It very nearly convinced me. You’ve made my legs turn to jelly.’
As we walked back to the group, Mom and I sensed that any doubts they had were fading fast. But just to make sure, she suggested that I rest my hand on her ass for a while. She said that is where I would have it if I really was her boyfriend. So when we were all talking together again, I slowly let my right hand move down over the curve of her spine, and onto her firm butt cheek. I let it stay there for a while without moving. Mom never gave it any attention. After a few minutes I decided to move my hand around her ass a bit. It felt lean and soft, but the one thing that became obvious very quickly, was that she wasn't wearing any panties. But I suppose the tightness of her dress would have made any underwear impossible. As I caressed and squeezed Mom’s butt, she still didn’t flinch. So, feeling just a little horny, I thought I’d take a little bit of an advantage of the situation. Ever so gently, I allowed the middle finger of my hand to trace the line of her ass crack. I started near the small of her back, and she didn’t make any objections. I let my digit move slowly downwards, pretending to be unaware of its travels by engaging one of the girls in meaningless conversation. It was just as I began to press the tip of my finger against her anus that I felt her butt cheeks tighten. By instinct, I looked around. Mom was glaring at me with that stern, school-ma’am, expression. I thought I was in really big trouble with her, but after a second or two, her face softened to a smile.
‘Let’s have another dance’, she commanded.
I led Mom onto the packed dance-floor just as a slow, sexy record came on. We jostled for a space near the back and I pulled her into me.
‘You seem to have got the hang of this now.’ She remarked, cheekily.
I pulled her in tight, and she held me around my waist. When she looked up at me with those big, blue eyes, all suggestive and promising, I lowered my face to hers. This time it was I who was the more forceful. As my tongue re-entered Mom’s mouth, I thought I detected a faint amusement in her eyes. Soon, we were both in the throes of another passionate kiss. Our heads moving from one side to the other to accommodate greater access.
I felt my dick starting to rise again, but now something in me wanted Mom to be aware of its existence too. But every time I tried to thrust my groin in her direction, she always managed to move out of the way. I could see that just a few paces behind Mom was a wall. If I could jam her up against that, then she would have no place to escape. So, as both our mouths filled up with the other’s saliva, and I felt her lipstick begin to smear my face, I tried, unobtrusively, to push Mom backwards. In no time at all, her back was against the wall, and she could retreat no further. I saw her eyes widen as she realised the implication. But neither one of us relaxed the pressure of our entangled lips. I slowly let my hands move down from Mom’s waist until they were gripping her ass cheeks. My dick was almost fully erect as I pushed it against Mom’s abdomen. I could feel her trying to squirm out of the way, but I held her tightly in position. At last, I could take no more and pulled my lips from hers. The record was just coming to an end as I whispered in her ear: ‘Mom, I gotta fuck you.’
‘Whoaaaaa, take it easy tiger,’ Mom said softly. ‘With all these people around, you’ll get us arrested. Lets go outside and cool down.’
I could hardly believe how stupid I’d been to let myself get carried away, and as we walked to a quiet bench in the campus grounds, I apologised to Mom for making a fool of myself. We sat down in the warm late evening twilight, and Mom began to speak.
‘Don’t beat down on yourself, honey. It’s the FMD.’
I looked in puzzlement again at those three letters, and Mom said that what she was about to tell me should never be repeated to anyone; not even Dad. I agreed, and she continued.
‘FMD stands for Fuck Me Dress. I’ve worn it three times already and on each occasion, I got, well, you can guess. There’s just something about this dress that drives the male of the species wild. It’s never happened with any of my other outfits. First time I wore it was when your Father took me to the opera to see Carmen. He was so aroused that he had me in one of the stalls in the men’s room during the interval.’
I asked about the other occasions. It was then that she looked anxious and made me repeat my promise.
‘Sweetheart, first thing I want to tell you is that for the two men in my life, you and your Father, I would do anything. I would die for either of you. You’ve got to know that. Now I don’t want to shock you, honey, but the other two times weren’t with your Father.’
The look of concern on my face caused Mom to say that she was still in love with Dad and that all would be explained. Then she went on:
‘Last Christmas, your Father and I went to his work’s party. It was an all expenses paid trip with overnight accommodation. It really is a chance to unwind at the company’s expense after a hard year. Anyway, after dinner, your Dad’s boss, old man Quigley, he comes up and asks me for a dance. Of course I accept, and he leads me on to a dimly lit, crowded dance –floor. Because he’s your Father’s boss, I let him put his hands where I wouldn’t let anyone else. Your Dad can’t afford to lose this job, not with your school fees and the mortgage to pay. So Quigley finds out, as I’m sure you have, that I can’t wear panties with this dress.’ I blushed at that before she continued.
‘Anyway, he makes it very clear to me that he can make life very hard or very easy for your Dad, and which way it will be is all up to me. It took me about half a second to catch his drift. What could I do? Have your Father posted to some shitty little backwater, where he’d never make any commission, or sacrifice myself to give him an easy life. Peter, darling, I hope that you don’t think the worst of me, but I told the old man that he could have sex with me, just the once. He arranged for your Father to leave the party early by sending him to an out-of-town office on the pretence of getting some important files., and then he took me up to his room. I thought his age meant that it would all be over quite quickly. But he was like an animal. He took me three times in two hours. I had to wear head to toe clothes for weeks until the bite and bruise marks had disappeared.’
I was astonished at Mom’s disclosure, and was confused over how I should feel. Sure, she had made a sacrifice for Dad, but she was still a whore whichever way you looked at it. Then, when she told me that the third time was another sacrifice to get Dad a big contract with some old Japanese guy, any pity that I had had began to dissolve. In fact, I was feeling horny for her all over again. You see, while Mom had been telling me the story, she had crossed her legs towards me, and the split in her dress had revealed them up to mid thigh. The moonlight contrasted the lighter tones of her legs with the darkness of her dress like a spotlight. I noticed that her heels were so high that her instep was almost vertical. And when she dangled a shoe carelessly off her foot, I almost creamed. I don’t think she noticed at all, she just kept on talking: