Mum's Sexual Re-Awakening Pt. 04

But I needn't have worried. Before long, mum bent over my lap, and I could hardly believe it as I felt the exquisite sensation of her warm wet mouth envelope my bell end and slide up the shaft of my throbbing member. She moved her lips up and down slowly and gently, just how I like it, and I knew I wasn't going to last very long. I debated whether I should warn mum that I was about to cum, but before I knew it, I was shooting copious amounts of sperm straight into her mouth. I half expected her to spit it out, but she kept her mouth firmly clamped on my tool as I continued to pump into her until I was spent.

Then she ever so slowly withdrew her mouth, keeping her lips pressed together over the tip of the bell end, so as not to spill a drop. Then she turned to me and opened her mouth, revealing what I have to say was a very impressive quantity of goo within. She swirled her tongue around it for a few moments, then slowly closed her mouth and swallowed the lot. I was speechless. She looked at me with a strange smile, almost of triumph, as if to say: 'You weren't expecting that, were you?' which indeed I wasn't. We kissed again, and finally returned our attention to the film.

After the film had been running for some while, I noticed that mum was intermittently pumping her thighs together.

"You OK?" I asked her.

"I shouldn't have had that last pint," she replied with a giggle.

"Well, I did warn you," I reminded her.

"I'll be OK," she said, but a while later she was starting to shift in her seat a little, and turned to me and asked how much longer the film was.

"I'm not sure," I replied, "Another hour, maybe."

"An hour!" mum hissed, "I don't think I can hold out for another hour."

"Well, you're going to have to, you can't disturb the other people in our row just because you can't control your bladder," I said to her, as though I was talking to a naughty schoolgirl. Mum pouted, then sat back in her seat, with a look of hopeless resignation.

As she gradually became more restless I couldn't resist taunting her:

"Feeling nice and full now, are you?" I whispered.

"I'm so full I don't think I can hold much more," mum replied anxiously.

I let her suffer in silence for a while, as she shifted in her seat, vainly trying to relieve the pressure in her bladder. Then I placed the flat of my hand on her belly, feeling satisfyingly full and round with the quantity of food and drink it contained, and I exerted just a little pressure with my fingers just above her groin, where I knew her bladder would be at its most sensitive. I immediately felt mum squirm beneath my touch, and let out a little moan.

"My my," I said, "you are full, aren't you?" Mum shivered and closed her eyes.

"Please don't," she pleaded, but didn't try to remove my hand, and I gently continued massaging the sensitive spot with my fingers. After a while I felt mum actually pushing her hips up to meet my pressure.

"How does that feel?" I asked her.

"You're making me wet," she replied, "And I don't mean with pee."

I leaned over, placing my other hand between her legs, my probing middle finger soon confirming that her cunt was slick with love juice. I pushed my finger well in and curved it round to massage the front wall of her vagina, thus exerting pressure on her bladder from within as well.

"Oh God," she gasped, as she writhed in her seat.

"Enjoying the film?" I whispered, but mum just kept making little whimpering noises in an exquisite turmoil of pain and pleasure. I continued tormenting mum's bladder with both hands as the pressure within it steadily increased, but at the same time it was obvious she was getting more and more aroused. Her face wore an expression of intense concentration as she simultaneously strained to contain the urge in her bladder, and suppress the orgasm that was surging within her.

"Please don't make me cum," she pleaded, "I'll piss all over the seat."

"Oh, you mustn't do that," I cautioned her, as I carried on stimulating her.

"Please, please stop," she was almost crying, so when I judged she had almost reached the point of no return I removed my hands, leaving mum twitching in an anguish of unfulfilled desire.

To mum's immense relief, the closing credits finally started to roll, and mum blundered out, as fast as she could whilst trying to cross her legs, quite oblivious to the curious stares of the other patrons filing out. When she emerged from the toilet it was obvious she was still very aroused, as her face was flushed, and her nipples were even more prominent than usual.

Her first words to me, predictably, were: "I need a drink," so we made our way to a nearby pub. Mum ordered another pint of snakebite. Once again, mum was enjoying the brazen stares of the male customers ogling her chest.

"So did you enjoy the film?" I asked her.

"I think so, I don't really remember much of it." mum replied, "I was too busy trying not to piss myself; God, I was so full."

But I could tell that mum had enjoyed the sensation of being in a position where she was unable to relieve her torment, and I told her so.

Mum gave me a sly look, and didn't dispute what I had said.

"That was the best piss ever, though, I thought I'd never stop," she said.

"I wish I'd been there to see it," I told her.

"Really?" mum said, "I'll have to let you watch next time I've had a skin full."

"I'd like that," I confirmed.

"I'll see how much I can save up for you, then," mum said.

"You can practise every afternoon at the pub, after your lunchtime pints," I pointed out.

"Mmm," mum said, looking thoughtful, "Maybe I won't have a pee before I start work, that should make the afternoon more interesting."

"Good luck with that," I said.

We chatted on for a while, while mum supped her drink. She was making quite an exhibition of herself, giggling uncontrollably, talking too loudly, and almost falling over several times. She was certainly attracting plenty of attention, over and above that occasioned by the revealing dress that was so obviously too small for her burgeoning curves. But as soon as she had finished her drink, she asked if we could go home, so we made our way out to the bus stop as I struggled to hold mum upright. It was a low floor 'easy access' bus, though mum found it anything but easy to mount the step into it in her advanced state of inebriation.

When we got home I had expected mum to slump onto the sofa as she normally did, but instead she announced that she was going to bed.

"Are you coming?" she demanded. Well, of course I didn't need to be asked twice, though I have to say the realisation of what might be about to happen made me suddenly feel quite nervous, as well as very excited.

Mum sat down heavily on the bed.

"Help me off with this dress," she ordered, "I'm too pissed." So I did as instructed, and mum was finally revealed in her glorious ripe nakedness. With the benefit of the extra pounds she had put on in the last few weeks, she looked even more voluptuously desirable than I had imagined. I couldn't take my eyes off what I had dreamed about for so long.

"Aren't you going to get undressed then?" she asked me, so I started stripping off, as mum climbed into bed. A wave of conflicting emotions and doubts swept over me now that I was finally about to get into bed with my own mother. In a ridiculous show of modesty and restraint I decided to leave my underpants on. As I climbed in beside her she immediately put her arms around me, hugging me close and clamping her lips on mine. Then she heaved herself up to lie face down on top of me, and began pumping her groin against my raging erection.

If mum hadn't already sucked me off so expertly in the cinema, I think I would have cum there and then in my underpants. Mum was grinding herself against me, and was already so aroused that in no time she was thrashing around in the throes of a mighty orgasm. She slumped on top of me, breathing hard. Then she said: "Take those briefs off, I want you to fuck me."

It was a little difficult with mum's weight on top of me, but I managed to ease them down sufficiently to release my rampant erection. My cock felt like it had never been so thick and hard, but mum was already so well lubricated I was able to push the engorged bell end past her cunny lips and ease my cock in as I felt the snug warmth of mum's cunt envelop it.

"Oh fuck, that feels so good," mum gasped as she pushed down until my cock was buried inside her to the hilt. Despite the earlier blow job, I knew that if I started thrusting too hard I wouldn't be able to hold out very long before I came, and I wanted this to last. Fortunately, though, I only needed to lie there passively as mum took the initiative, pumping herself forcefully up and down on my manhood as she gasped and grunted, her tits looking bigger than ever as they hung down over me and slapped against my chest. The bed shook and creaked as her thrusts became ever more energetic as I concentrated on holding back from coming too soon.

Before long mum was overwhelmed by another colossal orgasm, amidst a welter of shouted expletives. I really started to get concerned that her neighbours in the flats would become alarmed at the noise. As her spasms of ecstasy subsided, mum collapsed on top of me bathed in sweat, with her gorgeous breasts squashed against my chest, and her face snuggled against my neck, as her rasping breath gradually eased.

I gently caressed her back. Neither of us felt the need to speak. Eventually, mum raised her head sufficiently to look directly at me, with the most beautiful smile of contentment and love. However, my unspent erection was still hard inside her cunt, and as I shifted my groin slightly mum said, with a mixture of surprise and delight: "My God, you're still hard." I just smiled by way of reply.

"Fuck me again," mum whispered eagerly, so I started to push gently and slowly, as mum closed her eyes and gave herself up to the sensations that were starting to course through her again. This time I took the initiative, very gradually increasing the pace and force of my thrusts, until mum gave herself up to another huge orgasm. But I had paced myself well, and I still wasn't quite ready to cum, and continued pushing ever harder and faster.

Wave after wave of orgasm swept over mum until she was so hyper-sensitised she was literally crying and almost begging me to stop. But of course there was no chance of that. I was rapidly reaching the point of no return, and now it was my turn to disturb the neighbours as I finally pumped jet after jet of spunk into mum's cunt. I actually began to worry that mum was going to pass out, but as I finally spent my load she just lay like a dead weight on top of me.

Soon after we must have both fallen asleep, until I was awoken some while later by mum nudging me and whispering urgently in my ear: "I need a pee, otherwise I'm going to wet the bed."

She was still lying on top of me, so I gently rolled her off, got up and pulled her to her feet, I judged, correctly, that she was still too drunk and shagged out to walk without assistance, so I guided her into the bathroom, where she slumped onto the toilet seat and released a prolonged jet of steaming hot pee.

I just had to put my hand down between her legs, and was astonished at the force of her flow. I thought it was never going to stop, but with a few final spurts she closed her eyes and let out a deep sigh of relief. She seemed to have lost all strength, and I had to hoist her off the seat with my hands under both shoulders, and half carried her back to bed, where I sat her up whilst I went and fetched a large glass of water, which - after some initial reluctance - I managed to persuade her to drink, to try and prevent dehydration. I then laid her on the bed, where she went straight to sleep, and I snuggled in beside her.

I awoke about 8 o'clock. Mum was still fast asleep. I was suddenly very worried about how mum would react to the events of yesterday in the cold light of morning. Although there was no question that she had been a willing participant and even encouraged me, would she feel I had taken advantage of her advanced state of intoxication. Even though I didn't think it likely that she would hold me responsible, the atmosphere between us could be very awkward now that our relationship had so fundamentally changed, but I certainly didn't want mum to feel anxious or regretful about what had happened. I decided that the best policy would be to act as though it was perfectly normal for me to be waking up next to my mother after a night of uninhibited sex.

Whilst I was turning this over in my mind I got up, dressed, and went out to the local mini supermarket, which opened early on a Sunday, mainly in order to sell newspapers, though what I wanted was some fresh orange juice, which I thought would be a good restorative if mum had a hangover. But then I had a devious idea. As well as a litre carton of orange, I bought a bottle of sparkling white wine, which I knew would combine to make a really refreshing drink, whilst surreptitiously replenishing mum's alcohol intake.

When I returned mum still appeared to be asleep. I considered getting undressed and climbing back into bed with her again, but I was suddenly scared. If she discovered me naked in bed with her when she woke up sober, would the sudden recollection of what had happened that this triggered freak her out? I was standing near the bed wondering what to do, when mum stirred and opened a bleary pair of eyes.

"Hello mum," I said tentatively.

"Ugh!" she grunted.

"How are you feeling?" I asked solicitously.

"My mouth feels dry as a witch's cunt," mum replied.

I was rather taken aback by such an explicit response, but it did give me the perfect opening to say that I'd got just the thing to cure that, and I went to fetch a large glass of orange and sparkling wine. With a sluggish effort and a groan, mum managed to sit herself up in bed, making no attempt at modesty as her boobs were revealed in their ample splendour, her nipples jutting out like acorns. I couldn't take my eyes off them.

She took a deep draught of the drink.

"Ahh, this tastes so good," mum said with feeling, and in no time at all she had downed the lot.

"Would you like some more?" I asked her.

Mum replied in the affirmative, so I went and mixed another glass for her.

"My patent hangover cure," I said as I gave it to her.

"Well, it's certainly doing the trick, I feel a bit better already," mum confirmed.

After she had drunk a good half, she looked at the glass and said:

"This would be nice to wake up to every morning."

Without pausing to think, I said:

"It's funny you should say that, I was just thinking that you would be really nice to wake up to every morning."

I immediately regretted what I feared was a premature admission. Mum did indeed look momentarily surprised and puzzled, as though she was only just registering the bizarre circumstances we found ourselves in, but then she said:

"It's nice to be appreciated," as a broad smile finally softened her rather grey morning-after features.

"You really do look gorgeous," I told her.

Mum looked down at her boobs. "You don't think they're starting to get a bit saggy, do you?"

"Not at all," I assured her. "If they are hanging any lower, it's only because they've got weightier, and you can't defy gravity. And believe me, many younger women would be envious of such a firm round pair. You should be proud of them."

Mum looked suitably pleased with this response, but said: "It's all very well, but these puppies are costing me a fortune in bigger bras."

"Perhaps you should try going braless," I suggested.

"You must be joking," mum protested, "My boobs would be bouncing all over the place, and my nipples would be even more obvious than they already are. Everybody would be staring at me."

"So what," I countered, "Let them stare, the blokes will love it, and the women will secretly be wishing they had the confidence (and the figure) to do the same. Accept it as a compliment."

Mum looked thoughtful, but said nothing. I looked at her.

"Actually, I think you do like the idea of showing yourself off, knowing people can see the shape of your boobs and the obvious outline of those amazing nipples through a stretchy top. I think you're a bit of an exhibitionist on the quiet."

"Maybe when I'm drunk," mum conceded.

"Maybe the alcohol just gives you the confidence to do what you'd like to do when you're sober," I said. "I think you enjoy the thrill of dressing provocatively, and you actually get turned on by people gawping at you. And I don't just mean the lecherous stares of the men, but also the scandalised looks of disapproval from the more repressed women."

Mum gave me a penetrating look, but she didn't attempt to contradict me, and then downed the rest of her drink.

I took the glass and without asking I went and poured her another, which she gladly accepted. My plan was working; with the residue of yesterday's alcohol still in her system, I knew she would soon be feeling the effects of my so-called hangover cure.

I pulled down the covers to expose her belly, looking more delightfully plump and rotund than ever in her sitting position as it ballooned out over the top of her thighs. She certainly had been piling on the pounds over the past few weeks with her high calorie diet of wine, beer and pub lunches. Mum cast her eyes down with a look of distaste and went to pull the covers back up, but I stayed her hand.

"Cover it up," mum said, "I'd rather not be reminded how fat I'm getting."

"I think your belly looks really sexy," I told her, "And it's firm and proud, not saggy misshapen bulges, like some women who have put on weight. And it matches your bigger boobs perfectly, I think the extra weight you're carrying looks really good on you."

Mum didn't look entirely reassured, but smiled and said: "Well, I'm glad you think so."

"As I keep telling you," I reminded her, "I'm by no means the only one."

"I know," mum conceded, "But I can't go on endlessly putting on weight, I really ought to cut down a bit."

"Well, you certainly seem to be putting away a lot of beer at the moment," I said.

"I'm drinking way too much," mum agreed, "But it's much more fun spending the evening in the pub than sitting at home on my own. And anyway, I like getting drunk," she admitted, "I think I always have done if I'm honest. The only time I felt really relaxed with your father was when I'd had too much to drink."

"Perhaps you could try cutting out the puddings, then," I suggested.

"That's a good idea," mum said brightly, "Then I needn't worry so much about all the booze."

I wasn't at all sure about that, but if that allayed concern, it was more important that mum was out enjoying herself than fretting about her weight.

Mum looked pensive as she continued drinking her third glass. Presently she looked as though she'd come to a decision, and said:

"It's strange. I've been imagining more and more over the last few weeks what it would be like to... well, you know...with you... You're like the perfect lover: kind, considerate, understanding, generous. Not bad looking either. And you've given me the confidence to feel more comfortable about the way I look, and to show it off, and to get that job in the pub."

"The thing is," she continued, "You've got my motor running again, but I really don't fancy any of the men that are hitting on me, or if I do, I just think they are only after one thing. So like I said, as far as I am concerned you are the perfect lover."

I pondered all this for a moment, before saying: "You know, I've meant everything I've said about you, and I think it's great that you're finally giving yourself permission to be who you want to be, after so many years under dad's thumb. And whatever the rights and wrongs of it, you must have at least suspected for some while that I found you sexually attractive."