Ever Notice? Ch. 04bydellagordo©
An Oedipus County Epic
This is a work of fantasy. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental, and the actions contained herein should not be duplicated. All characters are 18 or over. It's all pretend, folks.
When Eric cracked an eye open, he saw that the clock on the floor in his room read 11:13. His brain was fogged with lust and confusion. Had his own mother actually jerked him off the night before? Had that really happened? And had Eric actually enjoyed the hell of it?
He groaned and rolled over, away from the spray of sunlight from the half open window. He should probably get up, start his day. See if Tom was around. Figure out what to do with himself.
Eric lumbered into the shower and scrubbed himself clean. Even with the weirdness of the past twenty-four hours – maybe because of them – he couldn't wait to get back to North Dakota. He missed his friends. He missed his car. He even missed his shitty part-time job. Another boring day in paradise did not appeal to him. He wasn't built to sit by the pool, reading a book, or watching TV all day.
It was almost noon by the time he wandered downstairs. He wandered over to the fridge to get some food and found a note clipped to the door.
"Sweetie – taking a half day today. Let's go to lunch, maybe catch a movie. I'll be home after noon." It was signed with a kiss: the imprint of his mother's red lips.
Eric shook his head. He didn't know what to do. Should be duck out of the house? Where would he go? Did he want to stay and find out what was going to happen? He couldn't spend the rest of his life avoiding his mother, could he? On account of a handjob?
Sudden headache. Eric picked up the phone, dialed the Parks. It rang and rang and went to voice. Maybe Tom was out playing hoops. Or maybe some of Tom's friends came by and he was out, and Eric was on his own for the day.
Down the street, Tom had risen hours before Eric and had a full breakfast of video games and Mt. Dew. When the phone rang near noon, he paused the game and picked it up. It was his mother.
"How quickly can you get down here?" she said. Her voice was breathless, throaty. He pictured her with a hand down the front of her skirt, teasing herself.
"Who is this?" Tom said.
"Don't fuck with me, Thomas," Alice said.
"Sorry Mom, just kidding. What's going on?"
"I just got off the phone with Christina. I am so fucking horny right now I can barely stand it. Your mother needs you, Thomas."
Tom cocked his head. He calculated. "I can be there in about twenty minutes. Faster if you'd buy me a car."
"You keep your grades up and graduate with honors and we'll talk. In the meantime, get on your bike and get down here."
Tom laughed. "You got it." He hung up, threw a sweatshirt on, and ducked out into the garage to pull his mountain bike off the wall. He was tearing down the driveway when Eric called.
Tom wove through the hills, heading for the Xybochem main office. It wasn't downtown, which was useful, and Tom could go off road when possible, which allowed him to make it to the campus in record time. He kept a visitor's badge with him at all times, and flashed it at the gate guard, who, recognizing him, waved him through. Tom called his mom on his cell while he locked up his bike.
His mother met him in the lobby of the main building. Alice had her hair up and glasses on, and she was dressed in a black suit, skirt, and pink blouse. Her face was flushed, eyes dilated. She made small talk with the security guard at the front desk while guiding Tom past him. They took an elevator up to the third floor and walked quickly to her office. There were a few people still on the floor, but most had gone to lunch.
They passed Melody Maxwell in the hall, one of the research scientists in his mother's division. She was another incredibly attractive middle aged woman, with breasts larger than even his mother's, barely hidden by her conservative dress. Melody smiled at the two of them, but said nothing, and Tom wondered if she knew something. He looked behind him as she walked away, and found himself remembering Eric's discussion from day before when they were playing hoops.
Alice let Tom precede her into the office and shut the door behind her. It was a large, open space, dominated by her big black desk and the tiny computer on it. Bookcases in the walls were crammed with science texts, market reports, binders of all kinds. There was a little wet bar on one wall, which Tom knew was mostly stocked with soda water, tomato juice, and Mt. Dew. The wall behind the desk was floor to ceiling windows, specially tinted to let light in but obscure the interior.
"So what's going on?" Tom said, turning around to face his mother. He found her already on her knees, loosening her hair clip and letting her long dark tresses spill down. She found the waistband of his shorts and tugged them down, his boxers too, freeing his already hardening cock.
Alice gripped him softly, jacking him lightly, bringing him to greater stiffness. Her lips pressed against the spongy head of his cock, sucking lightly. Warmth and moisture enveloped him as she swallowed him. Inch by inch he sank into her mouth. Her eyes closed behind her glasses, savoring his taste and heat and hardness.
Tom pulled his shirt up and watched as his mother devoured him. He thrust his hips a little bit, but she stopped him with a splayed palm on his abdomen and an icy glare. Her eyes closed again when he stopped moving, and the empty hand dropped down to grip the base of his stalk and jerk him softly while her mouth did its work.
It killed Tom that on the other side of the office door, Xybochem drones were typing on their computers, eating their lunch at their desks, or otherwise busily working away like any ordinary day, while on this side, he was getting a blowjob from his mother. The Dragon Queen that half of them lived in fear of, was at this moment on her knees worshipping her own son's dick with her mouth. Tom sank a hand into his mother's silky hair.
Alice's saliva and Tom's precum slickened his cock as Alice thrust her mouth up and down its length. Her tongue curled and caressed the underside, lashing at his hot hard flesh. Her lips closed around him mid-stalk and he cheeks hollowed as she sucked furiously. Tom hissed and grunted, trying not to cry out at the exquisite feeling of his mother sucking him off.
Abruptly, Alice stood. She grabbed her son's head and kissed him fiercely. He tasted his own precum on her tongue, but didn't have long to register that fact. She'd kept one hand on his cock and angled it away from her, flat against his belly, to avoid leaving a trail on her clothes as she pressed her full, luscious body against him.
Alice released him just as abruptly as she'd embraced him, and marched for her desk. She reached behind her, unzipped her skirt and pulled it up to her waist. Then she slid her panties down her thighs and bent her waist over the side of the desk. She threw her hair back over her shoulder and looked at her son. Her eyes shot the "Well? What are you waiting for?" look that she had perfected for moments like this.
Tom grinned, duckwalked over to her with his shorts around his ankles, and aimed his cock at his mother's weeping pussy. Her lips parted around his glans, and he sank into her balls deep in one smooth thrust.
Alice bit her lip to keep from crying out. She looked so fucking sexy. Tom gripped her by the hips and started fucking her. Hard and fast and savage. Her heart-shaped ass rippled delightedly with each thrust. Tom liked the way her skirt bunched up against her waist, and her panties stretched around her calves. He liked the way his mother's pussy gripped him, how her warm wet folds caressed every hardened inch of his throbbing cock as it plunged again and again into her steamy depths.
Alice spread her palms on her desktop and dropped her head, grunting as Tom fucked into her. Tom hissed through his teeth, trying to make as little noise as possible. It was difficult, with the way his mother twisted her hips and jammed herself back into him, and the quiet desperate noises she made as he plowed into her. Alice arched her back, gasping and choking back a cry as pleasure as an orgasm rippled through her.
Her pussy clenched hard around Tom's cock, trapping him deep inside, and her juices soaked into his heated skin, poured out of her and onto his bouncing balls. Tom's grip on his mother's waist tightened as he jammed deeper into her and exploded. His cock bucked and jumped and shuddered. Jet after jet of potent seed spiraled into his mother's womb. Tom stopped breathing. His eyes actually crossed. Alice crested a second time as her son filled her to the brim. Their mingled juices stained her sleek thighs.
Alice rested her forehead against the cool surface of her desk. She fought to control her breathing. Her breath hitched as Tom, still semi-hard, gave a weak thrust. "Don't do that," she hissed. Tom grunted and withdrew, dragging his long cock out of her sheathe. His seed began to leak out of her.
While Tom stumbled backward, Alice quickly tugged her panties up, covering her sopping mound. The fluids from her pussy and her son's cock soaked the gusset immediately. But it would keep them from leaking out and dripping down her legs. She adjusted her skirt and turned around.
Tom tugged his shorts up, covering himself. "Is that all, Mom?"
Alice frowned. "Don't be like that, baby." She adjusted her clothes, stepped toward him, and wrapped her arms around him. "You enjoy this just as much as I do."
Tom's flat expression slowly morphed into a smile. "Yeah, I guess I do."
"Better." She kissed him fleetingly on the lips. She found the clock on her wall. Enough time left for some yogurt and a granola bar.
"So what did Christina tell you to get your motor running?"
Alice snapped back to the present. "Mothers must have their secrets, Thomas." Tom's frown focused her attention. "Oh, do you want to fuck Ms. Henderson, Tommy?"
He blushed, looked away, but didn't deny it.
"Don't worry, baby. I want a piece of that boy of hers myself. If things work out, we may both get our chance." She cupped him through his shorts and gave his cock a squeeze.
Eric paced his mother's living room. He almost jumped when he saw her car pull into the driveway. His heart started beating faster, and his palms were sweating.
He was standing in the middle of the room when his mother floated in through the front door. She was wearing a red blouse and skirt combo with a white sweater, her hair loose and free, just a hint of makeup, and red strappy heels. She pulled her sunglasses off and looked around, blue eyes lighting up when she saw her son.
"Hey, sweetie-bear. Ready to go?"
"Yeah. Um... yeah. Where are we going?"
She laughed, a sound like ringing bells. Somehow it made Eric relaxed. He even smiled. "C'mon, then," Christina said. "What are you in the mood for?"
The had lunch at a burger joint, one of those trendy left coast places that put pineapples on burgers. Eric had one with guacamole and fried onions. It was actually pretty good. He felt relaxed and carefree, and his mother appeared to be the same. They joked and laughed and enjoyed their meal, and everything seemed perfectly normal and natural. Just a boy and his mother, and if it felt a little bit like a date, that was okay, too.
When they exited the restaurant, Christina angled them down the street, threading her arm through Eric's. The bulge of her right breast against his arm felt painfully comfortable. "I love the weather out here," Christina said. "I think your aunt's house is buried under a foot of snow right now."
"You're probably right," Eric admitted. While here all he could see were shorts and t-shirts and flip-flops. April in North Dakota was very different. He could get used to this, actually. Visiting, that is, he added mentally. Just visiting.
The movie theater proved to be just down the road, a small two-screen neighborhood place, showing what was probably just a bunch of art films. What made his mother think Eric would want to see something here?
"What do you think?" she asked. The marquee showed some foreign looking thing about some kind of French nonsense, and something called "The Hotel LaRousse." The poster had an attractive woman in some kind of lacy outfit, superimposed over a tall red building. Neither of them looked particularly interesting to Eric, other than for something to watch late at night on Cinemax.
Eric shook his head and sort of shrugged. Christina smiled somewhat enigmatically and went up to the ticket counter.
He was a little surprised when his mother purchased two tickets to "The Hotel LaRousse" but he shouldn't have been. She bought them a big tub of popcorn and sodas as well, and arm and arm they went into the theater.
It was a cozy little place, without too many other patrons in the middle of a weekday, even during school vacation. Eric was a little startled when his mother lifted up the armrest between them, locking it in place upright. She slid up against him, curling into him. Her warmth and scent washed over him. Her heavy breast pushed against his arm. She let him hold the popcorn, and her right hand slid down onto his lap, resting against his thigh.
As if having his beautiful, sexy mother that close wasn't exciting enough, the film turned out to be exactly the kind of softcore erotic adventure that Eric assumed it would be. The acting wasn't terrible, and there was an awful lot of nudity. Even some simulated sex. The principal actress was a brunette in her early to mid-thirties, full breasted and slim hipped, who seemed to enjoy preying on the younger men and staff at the hotel. The subtext was obvious, even to confused and aroused young Eric, particularly with his mother's hand sliding up and down his thigh.
The erection he grew was almost painful. He shifted in his seat uneasily, eyes on the tits bouncing across the screen, while his mind focused on the fingers brushing along his leg. He shuddered and gasped involuntarily when Christina's hand wrapped around the thickness extending down the leg of his shorts. His mind went back to laying in bed the night before, and what she had done to him. He wondered how far she would go in the theater. It was largely empty, but not entirely. There were a few couples and singles in there. Mostly middle-aged women, actually. All of them pretty good looking, too... what was the deal with this town, anyway?
Eric's thoughts derailed when he felt his mother's fingers brush against his zipper. Was she going to – she tugged, slipping the zipper down. She deftly unbuttoned his shorts one-handed. Her warm, slim fingers fished under his pants and dragged out his weeping cock. Eric risked a glance at her, but she was watching the screen raptly, eyes straight ahead, as the buxom brunette made out with the towel boy.
Eric looked down at his lap, adjusting the tub of popcorn to get a clearer view. His raging cock stood up proudly from his nest of cockhair, and his mother gently but insistently swept her hand up and down it. Her thumb spread precum across his sensitive head, while her fingers swept more of the juice up and down his length.
Eric groaned. His mother's hand squelched up and down on his cock. It was a wonder that no one else heard it – it was so loud in Eric's ears. But so was the movie. On screen the brunette was shrugging out of her blouse. She didn't wear a bra, not that her fake tits needed one. The towel boy buried his face between them, licking and sucking sloppily.
Beside Eric, Christina shifted in her seat. He looked out of the corner of his eye at her as she slid across the theater chair and bent at the waist. Eric's eyes widened, film totally forgotten, as his mother bent her head and inspected his cock close up. The theater was dark, the only light from the screen, and it illuminated her short red hair only a little bit. But he could feel her breath wash over his hot, hard, weeping dick.
And then he felt her hot, wet, tongue lash across the head of his dick. His muscles spasmed and he loosed a loud shuddering gasp. What felt like a gallon of precum squirted out of his dick, spraying across her tongue, into her mouth. Then her lips closed around him. He felt warmth and moisture, her saliva washing him as her tongue bathed him. He felt and heard her moan, low, quiet, and the sound thrilled him to his core.
Eric gripped the popcorn tub tightly, the cardboard crinkling, as his mother slowly swallowed his cock, one delicious inch by delicious inch. One hand gripped the base of him, while the other cupped and kneaded his balls. He imagined her mouth bulging with his girth, wishing he could see it. He felt her lips parting wider as she swallowed more of him. He felt the back of her throat, felt the exhalation of breath from her nostrils, and then her throat closing around him as he slid all the way into her mouth. The hand left the base of his cock, her lips pressed against his abdomen.
Exquisite sensations enveloped his rigid dick as her throat worked to swallow him, her agile tongue teasing the underside of his dick, her cheeks closing in around him. It was only a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity, before she swept back upwards. Her saliva and his juices felt cool against his skin, but she kept his cockhead between her lips while she took several deep, measured breaths through her nostrils.
Eric thought one of the women two rows ahead of them looked back, but he decided he didn't care when his mother swallowed him again, more easily this time, more quickly. And then she was up again, and down, and up. Each time increasing her speed, until in short order she was fucking him with her mouth, her lips a tight seal, her throat and mouth incredibly wet and hot.
Eric's head lolled backward. He spread his arms, resisting the almost painful urge to grab her by the back of her head and force his cock deeper into her throat. Wet, slick noises rose up at him, echoed by the quiet mewlings of his mother as she devoured him. Her free hand still lovingly caressed his balls, as if trying to coax the cum from them, even though her mouth was doing most of the work.
On the screen, the brunette had climbed up on top of the towel boy and was dramatically thrashing around on his lap in one of the fakest sex scenes Eric had ever seen. He imagined his mother up there, pale and full and real, head thrown back with abandon, forehead slick with a sheen of sweat, red hair flying, huge milky white tits bobbing up and down. And beneath her, gasping and thrusting away with all his might, was Eric himself.
His mother was on the downstroke when he erupted, her throat constricted around him as his huge hard cock throbbed and spat its first long ribbon of seed directly into her stomach. Christina coughed, spluttered, swept back up, but didn't lose his bucking cock. The first inch or two remained in her mouth, as its precious payload fired out, volley after volley painting her mouth white. He heard her swallowing quickly, desperately, fighting against the flood of his cum.
And still he came, and still in his mind's eye he saw the two of them up on the movie screen, fucking like animals.
And then at last, the final spurts sprayed across her tonsils. Her dexterous tongue swept across his cockhead, coring out his piss-slit to get the last sweet drop of cum. Then she sat up, throat working, as she swallowed every bit of his seed. A silver sheen coated her lips, but she licked it away almost as soon as Eric saw it.
In the light from the movie, her eyes were red and glassy, mascara running, her cheeks flushed, her lips and chin slick with his fluids. Her chest rose and fell as she took deep breaths.