My Other Mother Ch. 01

"Steven, hon, do you know how things get done?"

"How?"

"People get them done. Things never get themselves done. Are you listening closely, sweetie pie?"

(sweetie pie?)

"Yes, Mum, I'm listening."

"There are some people who can get nothing done. There are a lot more who can getsomethings done, but rare is the individual who can geteverythingdone. Mummy is one of those rare individuals. I know how to subtly make people do things they might not want to normally do because I know how people are. I know how people think and what motivates their self serving little actions. Your Aunt Sheila does too, but she was too much of a stupid whore to really make it work for her, beyond maneuvering a cock inside her." she added as a sort of surprisingly crude footnote.

"Your father was one of the many, one of those great unwashed who had a talent waiting to be exploited, and the way you grew up is largely due to me, not him. Were it not for me, he never would have gotten off the ground and, like the idiot he was, he forgot about that good woman who stands behind every successful man. He came to think he was smarter than me and started doing things his own way behind my back, but look where it got him. He got greedy and, if there's one thing I always told that stupid, fickle son of a whore, it wasnotto get greedy. The old me,thisme...I'dhave seen it right away, beyond the distraction of Phyllis, even. Well...

"Steven," she continued, "while you're out today, I want you to concentrate on meeting people as much as looking for a job. Make sure they're the right people, though. People who look like they're... People who look like they know people, people who seem to be knowledgeable about things, about the way the wind blows around here. Stay away from young women, they have nothing to offer us and can only bring trouble. Talk to people who are at least thirty, but sometimes young men as well because they like to brag about things; who they're acquainted with and why that's a good thing, etcetera. Ask expected questions about normal things, but draw them out. Bring paper and pen in order to take notes once they go away if you have to. Get names. Get information. Report to me. Do you understand, sweetie pie?"

"Yes, Mum, I understand."

"I knew you would. You're smart, like me. Not like your father, the Human adding machine. One last thing: Stay away from the pigs" (pigs?) "and tell nobody our business. Don't use your last name, use mine and try to find a job that pays under the table. As soon as I get a divorce, I'm changing both our last names to my maiden name anyway and besides... you're a Burchell, not a Golding. I could always tell. You look almost exactly like Dad."

Part 5

I did as told, not finding a job that day, but meeting quite a few people, asking questions about the area and such, keeping carefully organized notes for Mum the whole day.

She was already home when I returned at twenty after five and I could tell immediately upon looking her in the eyes that she was still my 'other mother', as I'd come to think of her when she crossed my mind all throughout the day.

"Hi, hon. How'd it go?" she asked, seemingly in a good mood.

"Well, I didn't find a job. Sorry."

"Oh, that's fine, neither did I. Well, not really. Did you get a chance to talk to a lot of people?"

"Yup."

"Great, let's have your notes. There's some Chinese in the microwave, eat it."

"Microwave? Chinese food?"

"We're just borrowing the microwave, the food was sort of a gift. Just sit and eat, I'll probably have some questions."

I did as instructed, heating a combo I found in the small, but new looking microwave oven she'd set up on the table. While I ate, I watched her skim my notes, answered her questions and tried not to look down the front of her dress as I took note of her strangely, subtly different personality. God, she looked so good.

"You look really nice today, Mum."

I don't know why I said it and, after the night before, I instantly regretted it, fearing she'd think the unthinkable of me. She looked up suddenly, her frown of concentration gone in a millisecond and replaced with the brightest smile I'd seen on her face in quite some time.

"Thank you, sweetie pie! What a nice thing to say!"

"It's true."

Her eyes kind of flicked over me and she was about to say something when she was interrupted and we both jumped a foot at the sudden intrusion of loud blues music from the floor below.

"Oh, god, not thisagain!?" she said, anger coming to her features as quickly as her short lived happiness at my compliment.

It was a live band and, apparently, they rented their room for a place to practice. We got to hear them off and on the day before until about eight o'clock and I could tell Mum was coming to the end of her patience.

"Maybe we should get the Super to make them stop," I offered.

"We could do that," she clipped, getting up and heading for the door. "Stay here."

She left and I somehow knew she wasn't going to the Super. A few minutes later, there was a loud"CRASH!"that sounded an awful lot like a door being kicked in. The music stopped abruptly, replaced by the sound of my mother's voice flipping out like she did on me after the cops came to visit that day. I couldn't quite make out what she was yelling, not even when I opened the door to the hall and tiptoed to the top of the stairs to listen, keenly aware of how I was disobeying her in doing this, but way too curious not to.

There was another crash, the sound of young women screaming and more of Mum tripping out before her volume gradually dropped a few minutes later. I was starting to get worried about her down there, but I could still hear her talking. After fifteen minutes, I went back to our room to wait.

Almost an hour after she left, she returned, holding the door wide for a tall, long haired guy who looked to be in his late twenties. He was carrying a twenty-six inch television and was followed by a shorter, skinnier guy with a pompadour and what looked like aPS3system.

"Hey, Steve!" the guy with the TV huffed, carefully putting the appliance down on the floor. "I'm Jamie, how ya doin'?"

"Uh, good. You?"

"A lot better now. Hey, you're mum's right cool."

The other guy introduced himself as Bob, putting the gaming system on the bed while Mum stood there with this winning smile, thanking them for the loan of their electronics and promising that they would be properly taken care of and returned when we were done with them. Then they left, her telling them she'd get back to them soon before she closed the door.

"So stupid. Anyway, where were we? Ah yes, your notes."

I didn't want to ask. If it was my real mother I would have, but my other mother? No.

Later that evening, at bed time, I turned once again so she could get changed into her nightie and into bed. Except, when she told me she was done and I turned back, she wasn't in bed. She was standing there in the same nightie as the night before, but now the lights were on and I could see it clearly.

The hem was short. Very short. Any shorter and I would have seen the crotch of her white bikini cut panties, somewhat visible under the thin silk anyway. Her breasts were sitting in low cups that barely covered her nipples, straps coming from almost under her arms to tie behind her neck and I could just make out her large, dark areolas behind the silk. Her nipples were clearly erect and stood out remarkably.

I stared for a second, then looked away, gasping, "Mum!"

"What?"

"You're supposed to be in bed!"

"'Supposed to be'?"

"You know what I mean!"

"No."

"Mum!"

"What?" she laughed, coming closer. "Why are you looking at the floor, hon?"

"You're-! I can see-! Mu-um!"

"Whaa-aat?" she playfully mocked, stepping right in front of me.

"Well... I can see almost all of your-! Your breasts!"

"Call them 'tits', sweetie pie."

" ... Huuh!?"

"Tits," she repeated. 'Breasts' sounds kinda clinical, kinda awkward and funny, don't you think? Call them 'tits' from now on. Anyway, I don't know what you're complaining about; you've been taking little peeks at them all evening."

"I-! Oh my god, Mum, I'm so sorry, I- I can't help it, I just-"

"Oh, stop being silly, it's normal."

"But-"

"Take your clothes off and get in bed. You have the wall tonight, I'll get the light."

I did as she said, turning my back to her so she wouldn't see my growing erection, the one she was about to feel pressed up against her anyway. (fuck!)

After she turned the light out, she got into bed with me, pulling me into the same embrace we were in the night before, but stopping me when I went to cover us up with the sheet.

"Wanna play a game?"

" ... I-"

"You probably wouldn't know about it, being an only child, but me and Sheila used to play it a lot. We called it 'Drawback'."

" ... Okay..."

"Two people take turns drawing a picture on each other's back, kind of a simple picture, and the other person has to guess what it is. We usually played it with our back to the other, but it can be played like this, too. I'll do you first, Okay?"

"Alright," I agreed, my dick coming to its full length against her belly.

Reaching over my side, she informed, "The top of the page is your shoulders, okay?"

"Alright."

She slowly drew a picture on my bare back, instantly raising goose pimples all over my body, and I couldn't help but grin as she watched me from an inch away with one of her own.

"Okay, what is it?"

"Uhhh... Jeez, I don't know. A goat?"

"Ha! Agoat? No, sweetie pie, animals don't work, they're just too... you know. Here, I'll do it again. ... Okay, that's it."

It seemed like a square with spears sticking out of one side. Looking her in the eyes, I guessed wildly.

"A table?"

"Yes!" she enthused with an excited little laugh, now completely different than the woman who seemed capable of eating a diver. "Now you do me. Untie my nightie from around my neck, will you? Your hand is right there."

"Your- uh, how come?"

"It doesn't work through clothes, I have to pull my nightie down so you can get at my back."

"What?"

"It's okay. You really won't see that much, pressed up against you like they are."

"But... you'll be completely topless, Mum. In bed, topless with me," I added, making some kind of an attempt at reason, even though the prospect excited the hell out of me.

"It's just Drawback. Besides, your cock is jabbing me in the tummy again. It's a bit late to worry about me topless in bed with you, especially since you won't see anything anyway, don't you agree? Come on, untie me and help pull it down to my waist.

" ... Holy geez, Mum," I commented as my trembling fingers reached the back of her neck, searching for the ends of the little bowtie I saw there earlier.

Mum didn't comment, only smiled in the light from the streetlamp as I found one end of the strap and pulled. She moved away from me afterward, just far enough to allow us to pull the top of her nightie down past her breasts between us, the cups suddenly retreating to expose the outside of one of Mum's big naturals before she settled back into me with a squirming wiggle.

"Just, um, pull it down in back for me... No, right down, push the sheet down further, too. ... There we are. Mmm, nice and snuggly. Okay, draw something."

Draw something!? Holy shit, I was about to have a coronary episode, fearing she could feel my hammering heart in those beautiful orbs of hers. I hastily drew a car while my cock strained against her.

"Too fast. You have to be kinda slow and deliberate."

I did it again, kinda slow and deliberate.

"Uhhhhhh... Again."

I did it again.

"A refridgerator?"

"No. I'll do it again."

"You're using my shoulders for the top of the page, right?"

"Oh, I forgot. Here, I'll do it again the right way," I said, actually managing to calm down a bit, just not enough to get my mind off my mother's bare chest against mine, my raging erection trapped between us, or the fact that she suddenly couldn't care less about either of those things.

"It's a Car!"

"Yeah, you got it."

"My turn. ... Uhmm... Oh! Okay, this is a good one," she decided, drawing a circle with a line sticking out from the edge, giving me goose bumps again.

"Mmmm... A tennis racket?"

"Nope. Pretty good guess, though."

"Ping pong paddle?"

"No. Let me do an edge view."

She began drawing what felt like a rectangle before she stopped and briskly rubbed my back all over, saying, "No, forget that, not like that."

I laughed a little.

"What?" she asked, grinning back, obviously having more fun than I was.

"Well, you're trying to erase something that isn't even there. Heh."

"No, no, you have to do that," she insisted. "It makes a difference, believe me. Okay, here we go..."

"A pot."

"Nope."

"No? Uhhh... Oh, a pan."

"Yes! That was a good one." she enthused. "Your turn."

"Okay, I have one..." I trailed off, drawing my picture.

"Uh-h!"she shivered. "Goose bumps! Oh, that's a spoon, right?"

"Yup."

"Too easy, hon. Hmmmm. Heh. Okay, what'sthis?"she asked, caressing her latest little sketch on my back.

"A flashlight?"

"No."

" ... Uhh... Again?"

She drew it again, her grin getting wider.

"Ummm... uh... I don't know."

"Your big cock."

I blinked during the following pause, trying to be sure I heard her correctly.

"How bigisthat thing, anyway?"

" ... Mum, geez," I said, embarrassed and awe struck.

"I know it's bigger than your so-called father's was. He was about average, six and a half inches. What are you?"

"Mum!"

"What?"

"I can't tell you that!"

"Why not?"

"Because!"

"Because I'm your mother?"

"Yes!"

"But you're smiling, sweetie pie."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean..."

"Oh, come on, just tell me. I'm only curious."

"Well, I've never actually measured it, so..."

" ... No?"

"No."

"That's, um... I thought all men do."

"I don't know, I only know that I haven't," I verified, hoping that would close the subject.

"Hm. Itmustbe big if you're that confident."

"Ohh, Mum! Come on!"

"What?" she laughed. "Oh, honey, don't get all excited, we've talked about this before. Look, we're here living out of a closet, down and out in these close quarters, there's nothing that can be done about it for the time being and that's that. We're going to become a bit more familiar with each other's bodies whether we like it or not, so... You know. We should just loosen up. Things will be a lot easier that way, don't you agree?"

"Well... I guess it's just a bit hard to loosen up like that with my own mother."

"Well, it's just Drawback, it's not like we're doing anything wrong."

" ... No," I admitted.

"So you'll stop being such a big baby now?"

"I'm not being-"

"Are too."

"Am no- oh, gee whiz!"

She laughed again, really getting a kick out of teasing me.

"This is fun," she stated with a big smile.

"Oh, sure."

"No, really. It seems crazy, but I don't remember the last time I had so much fun with someone. And look what it took."

"Hm."

" ... Areyouhaving fun, sweetie pie?"

" ... Well... yeah," I had to admit.

"Yeah, I knew that. As Martha Stewart says, it's a good thing."

"Somehow, I doubt Martha would smile on this little scene and call it 'a good thing'."

"You can never tell. Who cares, anyway? Weshouldget some sleep, though."

"Okay."

"Think you can get your heart rate down that far?"

"Aw, c'mon-"

"Okay, okay, I'll stop. Here, give mummy a goodnight kiss."

(smerp)

She came forward and surprised me with a kiss right on the lips before I could even move and we looked at each other for a second before she said in a soft, smiley tone, "Aren't you going to kiss me?"

(smerp)

The second one was mine, as she requested, and right on the lips.

"Thanks, sweetie pie. Good night."

" ... Good night, Mum."

"Mmmm," she crooned, snuggling and squirming again before closing her eyes.

She fell asleep within five minutes, me somewhere within two hours as my mind whirled in my skull with things like the feel of her bare breasts against me, how nice and soft Mum's lips are and what a good kisser she is.Waybetter than Staci.