"We'll Do Your Mom First," I Said

PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here
scouries
scouries
10,426 Followers

"You're doing it exactly right," she whispered in my ear. She was plastered against me. "Did you dance this close with anyone last night?"

"Just once," I admitted.

"And did you follow my instructions?" I nodded against her cheek. "And what did she do?"

"It was Monica."

"Monica? Not the Monica?"

"Uh huh," I answered as I let my hands slide onto mom's rear.

"And?"

"She's nice," I said dreamily, then lightly kissed mom's cheek. And then her lips were on mine.

"A man as handsome as you certainly deserved at least one kiss on his prom night. I don't know what all those high school girls were thinking." Mom said when our lips finally separated.

"It's the best kiss I've ever got," I told my mom. Our faces were still millimeters apart.

"Me too," mom whispered into my mouth as our lips rejoined.

"I better go," my mother finally said.

"Do you have to?" It wouldn't have taken much for me to pull her back into my arms. She nodded yes as she backed towards the door.

"One last kiss?"

"We can't," she whispered. For what seemed like minutes our eyes stayed locked. I watched silently as a tear slipped down her cheek.

"Are you and dad okay?" finally slipped from between my lips. But she'd already gone.

Natalie

I could have made love with Natalie on the following Monday morning. The invitation was unstated but clear. Clear in her eyes and voice, made clear by her fingers as they lightly brushed my arm or swept my hair off my forehead.

"So?" she'd asked when she opened the door just after nine-thirty in the morning.

"Thanks to Miss Natalie yours truly was judged the best dancer at the 2010 prom," I said with a laugh.

"You were not!"

I spent the next twenty minutes telling her the highlights of our night. She had a hundred questions and clarifications.

And the whole time we talked she was sending me a message. How did I know? I certainly wouldn't have known a couple of weeks earlier. But as I sat next to her on her living room couch I simply knew it. All you have to do is lean over and kiss her I told myself. Even though I wanted her I knew I wasn't going to do it.

"Are you really a virgin?" she asked as my story neared its end. Her eyes, staring into mine, were sparkling. "You know Will, I'm a pretty good teacher at other things besides dancing," she added when I didn't respond.

"I can't," I finally said.

"You don't like me?"

"Yeah right. Look," I answered as I pointed down at the tent rising out of my pants.

"So how come?"

"I want to ... so bad," I said, "but I've sorta arranged it for someone else... next week... I hope."

"She's lucky."

"You know there are other things we can do about this," Natalie said as she slipped off the couch and knelt between my legs. A second later my zipper was down and her fingers had found my penis. "Have you ever had this done to you?" she asked as she lowered her head.

A blow job! On a Monday morning. Out of the fucking blue. Kev, when I told him what had happened three days later, wanted to know every detail. And was pissed off I hadn't taken him with me.

But how can you possibility explain to another man what it feels like when a woman's tongue trails wetly up the underside of your cock if he's never experienced it before.

Of what it's like when she slips her lips over your cockhead. What it feels like as your cock slowly slides inside. Or how can you describe the feeling as your penis spits out strand after strand of thick, creamy cum. Or how can you tell him that your legs were so wobbly as you finished that you almost fell down. You don't!

"I wanta see you again ... after," Natalie pled as we hugged in her doorway. A girl in college wanted to see me again? To do it? I floated home.

Cottage

Kevin and I had been going up to the White cottage for most of July for the last fifteen years. Then, while Mr. White and his wife took their vacation together in early August, usually a two week affair to some foreign destination, we'd stay with my parents. It had worked out perfectly for both sets of parents.

Which was why, seven days after the prom, and six days after my blow job, Kevin, his mom and I packed our things and headed to the lake some hundred and fifty miles northeast of the city. While only twenty minutes away from the rural but now touristy town of Frelisburg, the waterfront cottage itself was located on an isolated bay and had no close neighbors.

Kevin and I had made no plans for how we were going to seduce his mother before we'd left. In fact we hadn't even discussed it in the days leading up to our departure. But I knew he was as committed to the venture as I, that any misgivings he'd originally felt, had been blown away by our success at the prom.

We didn't arrive until nearly seven that night. And by the time we'd unpacked, organized ourselves and the cottage, and then barbecued some hamburgers up for dinner it was nearly ten.

"We should all probably get to bed early, we've had a busy day," Kev's mom suggested at just after ten.

"We've got to swim first Mrs. W.," I told her, then both Kev and I ran laughing into our room. Seconds later we were back.

"You boys are too old to be playing these games," Mrs. Michelle White chastened as the two of us ran across the living room, before we rushed out the front doors.

All we had on were towels wrapped around our waists. It was a ritual, a ritual Mrs. W had never fully approved of, a ritual that had been part of Kevin's and my summers at Muffin Lake for years. The late night skinny dip.

"It's too dark," Kev's mother yelled after us as we ran down the twenty yards of sloping hill that separated the cottage from the dock, beach and lake. We both let the towels drop before we'd gotten halfway. "It's dangerous," she warned, a warning that was an echo of hundreds of similar ones she'd made over the years.

"Turn on the lights when we're in the water mom," Kev called back over his shoulder as we both hurtled ourselves off the end of the dock and out into the cool lake water. When we surfaced the two lights were on, the one that shone down towards the dock from the porch above and the closer one, the one hanging on the corner of the beach shed and whose light was aimed at the small beach and the water behind it.

We both knew without looking that his mom was watching us from behind the porches screens, her worry simply made her incapable of not continually checking. Her call of, "Don't go out so deep," soon followed.

As we splashed and swam my mind kept drifting to the woman standing in the shadows of the porch above. How well could she see us from up there? I knew that if we'd stood directly in the light she'd be able to see us clearly. As shy teenagers in previous years we'd always yelled up to have the dock light extinguished before we'd rushed out and grabbed our towels and then rushed up to the cottage shivering. And then, with our towels around us, we'd stand warming in front of the fire as we drank our cocoa.

I think Mrs. W. had enjoyed the ritual as much as we had. But never in a sexual context.

As we swam that night I slowly edged closer to shore while Kevin stayed in deeper water. And when I finally stood, laughing and splashing water at my friend, the water only reached to my mid thigh. Laughing and joking , I turned and displayed myself for Kevin's watching mom. The next time I spun around and faced shore my penis sticking straight out.

Kevin swam over. "Don't," he whispered.

"You're mom's watching," I whispered back.

"She's not, she's preparing the cocoa," Kev denied.

"Stand up, show her," I ordered.

"I can't ... I've got a hard-on." I started to walk out of the water. A quick glance upward revealed his mother lurking deep in the shadows of the porch. I picked up my towel and slowly started drying myself. Seconds later Kevin tentatively emerged from the water. His cock was pointing upward. The lights remained on. The second the two of us started up the hill I saw his mother slip through the door and into the cottage.

"You didn't turn off the light," I chided Mrs. W. as I walked into the kitchen seconds later. I'd wrapped the towel tightly around my waist.

"Ohhh ... You're back already ... I was just getting the cocoa ready." Michelle White blushed as she said the words. She'd seen her sons cock. And mine. And for the next half hour, as we sat around the kitchen table, until we all headed off to bed, Kevin's mom continually cast furtive glances down towards the towels that hardly hid the penises that were struggling to escape them.

"We'll start tomorrow," I promised Kevin as we lay in our beds in the darkness an hour later.

"Do you still have a hard-on?" he asked back. Of course I did.

***

We gave Kevin's mother a present at breakfast. "It's not my birthday," she said as she looked from Kevin to me. She lifted the small, brightly wrapped package. Shook it. I smiled at her as she threw me a questioning glance.

"The girls said it would be perfect for you, for your build ... that the color was a perfect choice for your hair and eyes."

"My eyes?" she asked as she tore the package open. "Oh my gawd," she whispered as she watched the soft cloth slip through her fingers.

"It's French ... the latest style," Kevin said as his mom picked up the ivory colored bra from where it had fallen.

"I couldn't wear this. It's too--"

"Mom and Ashley said it would be perfect for you," I lied.

"Your mother? She did?" I nodded yes.

Of course Mrs. W. eventually accepted it. And, two and a half hours later, after we'd had breakfast, cleaned up and done the hundred little jobs required to open up a cottage after a winter of nonuse, she went to put it on.

"I'll join you down on the dock," she promised us when we'd finished our last job. "I just want to take a quick shower first."

We were pretending disinterest, casually lying about the dock, when we heard the screen door bang shut. Mrs. W., a towel over her arm, was wearing a loose, unbuttoned shirt over her new bathing suit as she walked down the hill. We pretended not to look. She sat down without saying a word. After checking to see if we were staring she let the shirt slide down off her shoulders.

Neither Kevin nor I said anything for about thirty seconds. Then I let out a hardly audible wolf whistle. She heard.

"Stop that," Michelle White said as the blush flooded into her cheeks.

"You look great mom," Kevin enthused.

And she did!

And the view was even more spectacular after she'd gone for a swim. The darkness of her aureoles was unmistakable through the lightly colored, wet cloth. She caught us staring. Smiled. Blushed. Looked away. Then looked back and caught us staring again. Her nipples hardened into hard little nubs before our eyes. Her eyes returned to her book. Then back to her admirers.

Mrs. White was almost as excited as we were. Later the three of us took a tour of the bay by canoe. With Kevin's mom's derriere perched delicately on the cross bar, yours truly, sitting in the back, spent the whole trip contemplating her perfect bum. And with her innocently facing the front, and while the three of us carried on a normal conversation, I spent most of the trip with one of my hands inside my shorts. Fondling myself. Neither of the other two had a clue.

I even, just for a couple of seconds, pulled it right out into the air. Somehow I stopped myself from jacking off and splattering her back.

"What do you boys want for dinner tonight?" Kev's mom asked as we paddled up the dock.

"You don't have to do anything, Kev and I are taking you to Armando's Mrs. W.," I said as I climbed up out of the canoe.

"Don't be silly .... we've got lots of food." I offered her my hand and helped her up.

"It's for us as much as you mom," Kev said as he exited the boat. "We've got to learn."

"Learn what?"

"It's going to be so different when we're in Princeton, Mrs. W," I answered. "How are we ever going to be able to know what to do if one of these sophisticated college girls wants us to take them somewhere fancy?"

"You want me to teach you?"

"Yeah," her son answered. "Like what should we wear, how we should act, what should we talk about, our table manners..."

"Ashley told us you'd be the best person to help us. That we should take you out while we we're up here, that we needed someone more sophisticated than her or her friends to help us."

"She did?" Mrs. W. was clearly delighted at both the idea and that Ash had suggested it. "Well I suppose," she started. I interrupted.

"But if you don't have something to wear..."

"Of course I have something to wear," came right back. "Armando's will be perfect. Then maybe next week I'll take you boys to the country club. It's a very good idea. I should have thought of it myself. You're lucky to have such a wonderful sister Will."

Armando's was Frelisbergs number one restaurant and owed its success and survival to the moneyed summer set that flocked to the area from May to September. A Bistro in front that served authentic Parisienne cuisine, the rear housed a more intimate, darker room that was later in the evening transformed into a more night clubby ambiance by the addition of a DJ and the clearing of a space for dancing.

"You'll have to tell us what to wear mom," Kevin encouraged later when we were getting ready to go. She took her time choosing. A Caribbean shirt and a casual sport jacket over lightweight, beige, silk dress pants was eventually chosen for me. A similar look was chosen for her son.

"Now it's your turn to help me. Which would you boys prefer I wear tonight?" she asked twenty minutes later. The words were shyly offered. Mrs. W. held a dress in each hand. She was wearing the famous Chinese kimono. Her long blond hair, still wet and uncombed, hung loosely down her back. She'd just got out of the shower.

"Heck, we're not experts mom."

"Maybe you better try them on for us," I suggested. She rushed off. A minute later she was back. She looked great.

"You'll have to do it up," she invited as she offered her back to me. Made of silk, the dark crimson sheathe, with a décolleté cut, accented every curve in her voluptuous body. As I pulled up the zipper I peeked over her shoulder and down into the deep hollow between her breasts. She was wearing some kind of lacy black strapless bra that just covered her nipples. There was absolutely no need for her to try on the other dress.

I tentatively put my nose just below her left ear and inhaled. "Are you wearing perfume Mrs. W.?" I asked as I lightly nuzzled her. "You smell so good." Before she could say anything I invited Kevin to come over and check it out.

"You smell much better than the girls at the prom," Kevin contributed after he'd inhaled his mother's scent.

"Way better ... more womanly somehow than those girls were," I added.

"Sexier too," Kev enthused after a second inhalation. Then both he and his mom blushed.

"You'll have to teach us about perfume too Michelle," I said as I zipped her up. I leaned in again and inhaled her scent again. "You don't mind if I call you that do you? Seeing as we're sorta on a date tonight."

Mrs. W. wasn't one hundred percent sure. I could see it in her eyes.

"Yes Kev, we're about to go on a date with the most beautiful woman in Frelisberg." Michelle's eyes smiled. All protest was stilled.

***

We ate dinner at a small round table in the darkened back room. A candle flickered. Being a Monday night the room was only half full and we had almost complete privacy. Mrs. W. ordered a bottle of wine to accompany our dinner. Our knees touched under the table.

I tried to keep the conversation centered on our plan as we ate. "Ashley did a wonderful job," Michelle agreed when we discussed our clothing makeover.

"We couldn't have done it without you Michelle," I corrected, letting the 'Michelle' slide from my lips as slowly as syrup, then let my fingers linger on her bare arm.

"You've been great mom," Kev echoed.

"We still haven't built ourselves up very much with the weights," I said, hoping to invite an argument.

"That's not true, you're looking wonderful. Even Ashley and the girls noticed it," Michelle replied.

We sat back and let her lead us through a quick seminar on perfume. And later Kev asked her about women's clothing. How a guy should react to what his dates wearing. What was considered a compliment, what was verboten. Finally I seized the opening.

"This is sorta a weird question Michelle ... you probably won't even want to answer it. It's personal ... it's just there's so much we don't know," I stammered out.

"What? You can ask anything. You don't have to be shy with me ... I'm almost your mother," she answered. And she was truly morphing into Michelle and away from the Mrs. W. I'd always known.

"It's just I saw your bra ... when I was zipping you up," I said.

"My bra?"

"I shouldn't ask," I said as I let a blush escape onto my cheeks.

"Will! Don't be foolish."

"It's just that I couldn't figure out how it stays up ... there didn't seem to be any straps." Michelle laughed. I went on, "We sorta investigated ladies bras before--"

"Have you?" there was a challenge in her eyes. "You and Kevin?"

"We didn't do anything bad. We were just trying to figure out how to open and shut them. It's all part of our plan. What if we ever get in a position to undo one and we can't."

"We'd look stupid," her son agreed.

"And whose bras were they?" I think she expected I'd say hers. That we'd been messing around in her underwear. In fact I think she was hoping it was in her drawer that we'd been exploring.

"You won't say anything? You won't be mad? Promise?" I asked.

"Of course I won't be angry with you."

"Mom's."

'Your mother's?" I nodded.

"And Ashley's."

"There's so many kinds mom," Kev threw out. "Some of them were almost impossible to open."

"We didn't do anything Mrs. W." I'd gone back to the more formal address on purpose. "Nothing really wrong."

"It's absolutely normal for boys to be curious."

'It's just that when I saw yours tonight it looked different than Mom's."

Michelle White then went on to give us a ten minute mini-class on bras. The one she was wearing, which she let us have a pretty darned good look at as she explained its structure, turned out to be something called a strapless, seamless, push up bra in satin. In a leopard skin print pattern. As she leaned over for a second both Kev and I saw it when a nipple popped free. She leaned back but she didn't rush doing it. Her nipple had been excited.

"Will you show us all of your bras, maybe tomorrow?" Kev asked somewhat boldly.

"We really had trouble when we didn't have anyone showing us how they worked," I immediately added.

"You boys will be studying too hard to have any time for bra mechanics," she answered, but with a smile. We both took it as a yes.

When the DJ appeared and the music started up I asked Kev's mother for the first dance. She refused at first. "We probably should go home."

"I'm not that bad," I protested.

"That's not why--"

I interrupted her. "Mom taught me. Before the prom. Showed me how to do it."

"She did?" she asked as I took her hand and got her to her feet.

"She told me it's all in how you hold the woman. Gently but firmly," I said as I put my arms around her back. Involuntarily her arms snaked around my head. Her breasts brushed my chest. We fit together perfectly. For the first minute of the song we were silent as we slowly swayed. She moved into my cock.

"There's something we have to tell you. We don't want to do it behind your back."

She lifted her head. "Tell me what?" My hands slid lower.

"It's just something we want to do before we go to Princeton. To get it out of the way." I was in no rush. I wanted Michelle to slowly draw it out of me.

scouries
scouries
10,426 Followers