A Bespoke Gift for Mum Ch. 01

We drank our espresso and chatted about this and that. The espresso was brewed from a local grown coffee bean variety. I had never had such a sensual coffee experience. Oooh, the aroma, the taste. Had João suffused a little something else in the brew?

João was indeed a uni student on a vacation job. He majored in Political Science with a contrasting minor in Literature. He shared with us some offroad sights around this location. He sketched us a map to get to a remote, secluded, secret beach cove, which he claimed only he knew the access trail. It was not even in google map.

I teased, "With your telling us, it won't be a secret anymore."

He grinned and smirked, "We're friends. Friends share secrets."

I countered, "We won't tell, if you don't tell."

Running his finger across his lips, in a darkly conspiratorial tone, "My lips are hermetically sealed."

Chuckles.

I felt a coolness at my bottom. Like a gentle breeze wafting over a meadow. Then, I observed a flush on Marc's face. His eyes, glazed. I followed his gaze.

Oh my god, my panty gusset, high-cut to begin with, had slipped and crept some into my slit. It was barely covering my pout of lips. It looked like my slit was devouring the velvet. My thatch was showing a lot more. Quite outrageous. My first instinct was to turn around and adjust the gusset. But again, some greater force implored me to let it be. This was all too delicious. I was manifesting as a new breed of cat. Mother cat.

I looked at João. He had noticed this feminine detail of mine too. He seemed to be agonising over whether to look at me, or look at Marc looking at me. Competing enchantments tore at the poor lad. Tough day at the office.

I acted nonchalantly as if I was blissfully unaware that my gusset had scandalously hiked up. This would have scant impact on the course of society. The earth would continue its monotonous rotations. Politicians would continue issuing unreliable proclamations. People would continue yawning on the way to the office.

I picked up a salty scent on a playful breeze wafting from the window. Was that me or the sea? It could be described as alluring, and yet, slightly suspect, like everything sexual that smelled really good. A whiff was all one could handle. To inhale a more concentrated dose was too much. Could the lads pick it up too?

It must have been a strange sight. A naked lad. A dressed young man. A mature lady strutting lingerie.

"This will be your best gift to me ever."

Marc emboldened, kissing me full on my lips, something he had never done before, "My pleasure, mum."

I emitted a musical giggle, "It'll give me deep pleasure too. I just know it. My son, to have and to hold till..."

João gulped. It wasn't espresso.

I pivoted to João, "Thank you so much for an excellent job done, João."

"Would you prefer to collect the product, or have it sent to your accommodation."

"Our accommodation. I'm keen to conduct a blind test on mum."

"A blind test?"

"Like in wine tasting."

I turned to João, looked him dead in the eye sternly, "We want our money back if I can tell the difference."

Austere silence. João was stunned. Chortles.

Just then, the buzzer sounded. João excused himself and beetled to the front of the shop leaving us to our own devices.

Marc watched me get dressed. After I put on my blouse, I straightened my panty to its functional state, put on my skirt, then shoes.

It was a little strange. I could understand the allure in his watching me undress. But, I was dressing, not undressing. It was as if he had seen me as a normal mother and woman before, then, he was privileged to get to see me in my sexual state, and now, I was transforming back to a normal woman. Maybe at another sublime level, mum to woman, then, back to mum.

***

The somewhat searing experience in the sex shop left us in some kind of a giddy haze. We needed to sober up some.

We went to a tavern. Imbibed tequila shots to neutralise the espresso. An ancient jukebox was playing. Songs so sweet that if you sang them, they would rot your teeth.

Moaning huskily, "Dance with this woman who is your mum..."

I was whispering right by his ear, so the words entered his body in a warm, moist stream of breath. He responded with some sweet nothing. Strange, I thought, his voice with my eyes closed sounded completely different from his voice with my eyes opened. What had come over me? This had never happened to me before.

I opened my eyes. I could detect a hint of desire in his eyes, like a faint light deep in a mineshaft. He pulled my chin in ever so slightly. Gazed at my face, as if he was admiring a privately held Monet.

I felt a rising life. Something inside him was blossoming. And showing.

I had a heightening sense of a strange space forming inside me. A kind of pure hollow. This space signified a simple lack, a nothingness, aching to be filled, if not churned, by some male form.

Like all profound mysteries, all this was so simple and natural that it frightened me a little.

The End

***

To be continued. In Chapter 2, the gift was delivered to the holiday home. Did it meet specifications?