A Game of Seduction

- Care for a cocktail, Mom?

- Isn't it a little early for this?

- What? Come on, it's Friday evening. You have to have fun on Friday evenings, it's the Law. So? What's your poison of choice?

- It's the law, eh? Make that a Margarita then. Not too strong though.

I mix you one, forgetting about the "not too strong" part. I get myself a cool beer, and hand you your glass for a toast.

- To what?

- Well, Mom, I don't know. To this week-end?

- Okay, to this week-end. Wow, Chris, I said not too strong. This stuff is flammable, I'm sure.

- Is it? Let me try. Wow indeed. You know, Steve gave me the recipe, and I tried to adapt it accounting for his ... well, his taste in alcohol, but obviously I underestimated him. Want me to mix you another one?

- No, no, that's okay. I'll drink it slow, otherwise you're going to have to put me to bed very early tonight.

I raise my bottle to you, then go back to the TV. A little later, I hear you go upstairs and go to your room. I wait for a couple of minutes, then I call out.

- Mom? You're upstairs?

- Yes?

- When you come down, could you please bring me something?

- What is it?

- In my room, there's a few comic books by the bed, title's "House of M". There are three of them, you should see them.

- Okay, in a minute.

- Thanks.

I know exactly where the comic books were -- not by the bed, but on the desk, not far from the mouse. So I wait, my heart pumping furiously, my stomach feeling suddenly very light, my cock thickening a little by anticipation. Then I hear you come down, and I try and turn my head without showing too much eagerness when you come and hand me the comic books.

- Oh, thank you.

- Didn't found them in the first place by the bed, but I spotted them on your desk. You should clean your room, tomorrow, as you have the day off. Seems it's been a little too long since that place has been aired.

- Sorry for that, Mom. Will do it, too. Thanks again.

Is that a little blush I can see on your face? Have you found the nudie mag, seen the dirty website open on the computer? I know I can't go upstairs now, but how I would love to see whether the screensaver is still on or not...

When I get back to my room after dinner, the screensaver is on, of course. Quickly, I check the nudie mag and the computer. I can't say for sure if the magazine has been displaced (though it seemed it's been slightly moved), but the windows order on the computer has been changed -- even if you have been careful to put the porn gallery at the back. Just in case, I turn the magazine to another picture (and others cummy lips), and put it back under the mattress. I turn to the computer, I smile, and I log on the chat rooms.

About two hours later, I hear you come up to your room. You knock on my door.

- Yes?

You open the door a little. I make the movement of closing something quickly on the computer (hiding the chatroom window) and turn a little awkwardly towards you -- my cock making a little tent in my shorts under the desk.

- Just wanted to say good night. I'm a little tired, and a good night sleep will make me good.

- Okay Mom. Sleep tight.

- Don't stay up too late, okay? I know you don't go to work tomorrow, but I want to go do some shopping at the mall in the morning, and I'd like you to come along.

- Kay, Mom. G'night.

You close the door, and I have the impression you have noticed my semi-hard on. I decide to spend another half hour in the chat rooms to see what I can find, but this is a slow evening. I hear you getting ready for bed, laying down for a quick read (like you always do) before switching the lights off. I have opened the hot story about the mother acting as her son's flirty date, and I reread again, feeling my cock harden as I imagine you and I in the same roles. I grab my cock as I read it, and start jerking off slowly, breathing hard and moaning just loud enough that you can hear it, but not too loud so that you think I'm trying to hide it. When I climax, shooting my cum in a bunch of tissues, I can help but moan your name.

I stop and listen, afraid I've gone too far, but the house is silent. Then, I hear the tiny "click" of your bedside lamp being turned off. I wonder what you've heard -- and if you have listened to me.

The following morning, I wake up with a raging hard-on -- even more than I usually do. It's around eight, and I can hear you downstairs in the kitchen. I put on a t-shirt and come down to meet you there. You're sitting by the table, a steaming cup in front of you, reading a magazine. I give you a light kiss on the cheek, then I move around as I prepare my breakfast -- cereals and milk. My cock makes a big tent in my shorts, and I make no efforts hiding it. When I sit down next to you, I move a little and quite naturally, the cockhead ends up pointing out of the trunks leg, alongside my thigh. Again, I act as if I wasn't aware of this, and begin eating my cereals hungrily.

It takes all of my will not to cast a glance in your direction, but I definitely want it to appear natural, so I just assume you've seen my erection. Just thinking of you looking at my cock keeps me rock-hard, and when I stand up to clean up my bowl, I have to make a little ajustment not to be completely obscene -- and keep all things under wraps, safely tucked under the little tent of my trunks.

- Mom, what time do you want to go to the mall?

- Hm? Oh, I thought we could leave around nine thirty, maybe ten. I wasn't expecting you to be up around this time.

- Well, seems I'm an early bird. So nine thrity, right? Going to grab a shower then.

- Go ahead. I'll be up in a minute, I'll take the next shift.

I go upstairs and quickly step in the toilets. I close the door, grab my cock and give it a few strokes, thinking of you, picturing you falling on your knees to suck hungrily on it ... and I cum on the spot, long strands of white cum that splatter on the porcelain. I milk my cock for the last drop, then I step out and get in the bathroom. I begin brushing my teeth, as I hear you climb up the stairs. As I expected, you go to the toilets, close the door behind you ... I hold my breath. A long moment of silence, then some watery noises. I finish brushing my teeth, and am about to step in the shower when I hear you flushing the toilets.

For sure, shopping is going to be fun.

Going to the mall with you is not something I usually enjoy. Usually, I spend most of my time getting bored waiting for you to get stuff for the house or checking out clothes, in the universal way males get bored in those situations, feeling completely out of place and having nothing better to do than looking at the ceiling and sighing a lot. But not this time.

Today, I'm taking every opportunity to check out the women around us, and not very discreetly. Again, I do my best not to look at your reaction, trying to make it appear as the most normal behavior on my part. I am particularly pleased when I get the opportunity to oggle a forty-ish mother with a little top showing some cleavage, while ignoring completely her (otherwise cute) daughter. At one point, you have to stop in a lingerie shop, and surprising you a little, I insist I accompany you there. As you do your shopping, I check out some skimpy outfits, looking at the other consumers in the process -- focusing on those older women.

I can see you considering two different outfits -- and clearly hesitating between them. I pick up another one, far more revealing than those, and hand it to you : "Mom, this one is far better than those two. Those might be suitable for someone's grandmother." You seem a little surprised, but you accept my suggestion and go to the dressing room to try them on. When you get back, you don't say a word, but you put back the two outfits I didn't like. I smile inwardly, feeling I've scored a point.

Before we leave the mall, I ask you to wait a minute and I make a stop at a Blockbuster to rent three videos: an action flick, a chick flick, and a messy porn flick focusing on "Cream Queens". I pack them under my arm, and get back to the car where you are waiting for me.

We get back home around eleven thirty, and I help you with the shopping bags. As I pick up the one from the lingerie shop, I tell you with a wink : "I hope you'll try it on for me". You blush a little, then answer "You wish" with a wink of yours. I go upstairs, change into something light (baggy shorts, no trunks, and a big t-shirt) and I lay on the couch in front of the TV. I want to think about how I'm going to maneuver today, and try and keep an eye on you.

I've brought with me a couple of magazines -- with, of course, the one under my mattress. I put on some sports, and start reading some article. Whenever you happen to be around me, I act a little uneasy, with the magazine hidden under the others. I keep this until you call me for lunch.

- So, Chris, what do you have planned for the afternoon?

- Hm, I don't know. I thought I'd watch a movie, just to relax a little and avoid getting out in this heat. You know, I rented a couple of tapes this morning.

- Yes, you kept me waiting for that.

- Hey, don't complain, I chose one for you. There's a chick flick, you know, one of those things with Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks that we can watch together if you like.

- Are there other options?

- Well, there's also an action movie with Jackie Chan. And a ... an horror movie that Steve told me about, and I ... I wanted to check it out.

- Oh, okay.

- But if you want, after lunch I can put on the chick flick ...

- You mean, the romantic one ...

- Yeah, same difference ... oh no, Mom, I'm just teasing you. I don't mind those movies, you know, it's cute and sometimes I wish it could happen to me. It's just that in front of the guys ... well, I won't exactly boast about it, you know?

- Okay. Well, why not the movie then.

- That's a deal.

About half an hour later, you are sitting on the couch and I'm putting a tape in the VCR. I've picked it up from the bag, and I know it's the porn movie. I put it in, and tell you I'm going to grab a drink before everything starts, and ask you if you want anything. I get you a Diet Coke and get one for me, and when I come back to the living room, you are sitting, a little surprised, in front of a trailer for "Cream Queens 2 & 3", complete with messy cumshots. I nearly spill my Coke, scramble to the VCR and stop the tape right away, and when I turn towards you I manage to blush.

- I'm ... I'm sorry, Mom. It ... it must be the store, they might have ... mixed the tapes, maybe.

- Yes, most certainly. (you say, with a knowing smile) So you don't have to apologize for it. Unless this is the ... horror movie that Steve had told you about.

- Erm, no, absolutely not. It's ... I ... (busying myself, checking out the other tapes) Seems we have the Tom Hanks movie here. And the Jackie Chan movie is here.

- So it is, indeed, the horror movie ...

- ... that is missing. You know, I suppose, horror fans rent a lot of movies. Somehow, they might have mixed them bringing them back, someting like that.

- But aren't the people at the store paid to sort them out and put them in the right boxes?

- Oh, believe me, I work in a bookstore, I know how things are. Books are mislaid more often than not.

- I didn't know that.

I switch on the Tom Hanks movie, pick up my Coke and sit down next to you, a little sheepishly. You give me a gentle tap on the shoulder. I take a deep breath. Inside my baggy shorts, my cock is hard.

After the movie credits start rolling, I yawn and strech a little. You turn to me:

- Wake up, your ordeal is through.

- Oh, it wasn't that bad ...

- You sure? I think you would have enjoyed the other movie far more ...

- Well, you know, Jackie Chan does pretty much always the same stuff. It's still enjoyable, but nothing too thrilling. And I rather enjoyed this one, even if it had its cheesy parts.

- I wasn't thinking of this movie.

- You mean ... oh, the "horror" movie.

- Yes, the "horror" movie.

- Nah.

- No? Oh, come on, I can't believe that. It's nothing to be ashamed of, you know.

- I'm not ashamed of it. It's just saying, well, porn movies are cool for a certain level, you know, when you're looking for something explicit and to the point and ... but as for enjoyment, the acting is bad, the stories are so lame, they don't rate that high in my opinion.

- Honestly, you really care about the acting or the stories?

- Sure. I mean, it's ridiculous the way that any situation, any scene can become an opportunity for sex. You know, the pizza delivery guy rings at the door, a girl opens, and two minutes later they are fucking their brains out in the patio. Give me a break. (you laugh) I mean, look at the movie we've just watched. There are plenty of moments where a porn movie would have easily moved the action towards something more horizontal.

- Really? Like what?

- Well, like the scene where they meet for the first time, you know, with the buffet. Where he tells her about the Godfather, I think.

- Yes?

- Well, in any porn movie, they chat, they go to a room, they fuck. And the movie carries on pretty much the same way afterwards. Same for the scene with his ex, when she comes to see him in his big office ... same conversation, but while they're doing it on the carpet. And voilà, change the title to "You've got male", and you're ready for rental. Of course, you'll have to throw in a couple more sex scenes ...

- Like when she's got the flu? He could come in, and ...

- Exactly -- see, it's easy. Well, this one is maybe too easy, since she's already in bed. No fun in doing that. But you know, the scene where he's on the boat with his father ...

- You mean ... him and his father ...?

- What? No, not that. But throw in the father's girlfriend, and they can be chatting together while she pleases both of them. Conversations like that are dull, spice them up with some pretty thing, and things start looking better.

- Young pretty thing, you mean.

- What? Oh, older is good too. The appeal of experience, plus the fantasy of doing one's friend's mother ... those things are big in those movies, believe me. Plus, some of those older ladies have superb bodies.

- (you chuckle) Seems you are really into that stuff ...

- Erm, no, not really. It cracks me up to look at them from this point of view, that's all. Some people I know spend most of their week-ends watching hours of porn, and I find that so sad. I mean, it's okay to be looking for some relief, but this ... that's freaky. Can't understand how they can enjoy it. Anyways.

I stand up, and take the tape out of the VCR. I turn around, and with a wink:

- So, since we just talked about all this, do you want to have a look at this "horror" movie?

- Are you serious?

- Yes. Not about watching it religiously together, but what if we play a little game? At the beginning of every scene, we try and guess how it ends up? What do you think?

- I'm not sure ...

- Hey, just to make things clear, I'll fast-forward through the naughty bits. I'm not in the mood for that kind of entertainment, but it's funny to discuss that with you. But if you don't feel like it, that's okay too. I don't want to push you, see?

- Okay. Well, maybe we can try for a few scenes, then.

- Deal.

We start watching the tape. I'm sitting in front of the VCR, while you are still on the couch. I give you a nervous smile, just to get the opportunity to get a good look at you. I wonder if I'm only imagining you're a little flustered, if your breathing is a little quicker ... I turn back to the screen, where the first pictures appear. Of course, the tape starts with a bunch of trailers for other titles in the same collection, featuring extensive (and gooey) footage of the others "Cream Queens" and the companion collection, "Girls who swallow cum". Fast-forward.

The movie begins, but it seems that there is very little done in terms of story. The first scene opens with a girl opening her door to some guys, they discuss a little about her wanting to become a "Cream Queen", and they get in the action soon after that. I fast-forward, moving to the next scene (and getting a few accelerated glimpses of the girl's cummy smile), but it ends up being very similar.

Two fast-forwards later ...

- I'm sorry, it seems that this is one of those tapes with no story, you know, just getting down to the dirty stuff.

- Oh, that's okay. It's not like I've missed something special, I suppose.

- Yeah. Well, sorry for that anyway ...

I stop fast-forwarding, and let the tape roll. On the screen, a forty-ish blonde is getting into the action, and I can't but stop to watch it, mouth agape.

The woman on the screen moans as she sucks, clearly enjoying it. Her heavy breasts move in rhythm, in a way that is very sensual and erotic. My cock is now standing to attention, and I nearly forget you are here, until you clear your throat.

- Oh, sorry, Mom.

I try to temporize a little, hoping for the first guy to cum in her mouth. With an eye still on the screen, I continue.

- I ... I thought she looked a little like my math teacher in college, and ... do you remember her? I think you met her once or twice, for ... Well, would have been strange to imagine her doing that kind of movie. Anyways.

On the screen, the first cumload drips from her hungry tongue, and she turns toward another guy. I switch the VCR off, and I eject the tape.

- Well, that was instructive. Thanks Chris, for this little interlude. Now, if you don't mind, I have some more shopping to do this afternoon. I'll come back around six, okay?

- Okay. You're not mad at me, are you?

- What? Oh no, as I said ... it was instructive. I'm off.

- Take care.

As you exit the house, I push the tape back in the VCR, and, pulling my cock out of my pants to stroke it slowly, I watch the entire scene with the blonde, thinking of you, picturing you in her place, wishing I could cum again and again and again to coat your hungry tongue, to fill your mouth and cover your tits and leave you with the contended smile of the woman on the screen. I run to the toilets, and shoot long gooey strands all over the porcelain, my legs buckling under me, leaving me spent.

I rewind the tape, put it back with the others and sit down on the sofa to watch some sports. At some point, I almost doze off ...

You come back a little after six, with a couple of bags under your arm.

- Found what you wanted?

- Yeah, more or less ...

- What did you get?

- Couple of things ... a nice blouse, a skirt, and some other things ...

- Well, I hope you're going to show me. Try them on ...

- What, right now?

- Why not? Do you have anything better to do?

- Well, I'd like to take a shower first, maybe change a little ...

- Go ahead with the shower, but show me what you got afterwards, okay?

You make a face, but you finish by grumbling a "ok". I've got the intuition that the reluctancy is only on display for show, and that you enjoy this. You come back down ten minutes later, fresh after your shower, with your blouse and skirt on display. You say "tadaa!" and spread your arms without much enthusiasm.

- Very nice. Turn around.

- Oh come on, Chris, it's only something for work ...

- No, it's nice. What else did you get?

- A couple of pantyhose pairs and some socks. Want me to try them on too?

- What about that thing you bought this morning?

- What?

- The neglige. Try it on.

- Chris ...

- Don't be shy, come on, try it on.

You sigh, then, shaking your head, you climb up the stairs to your room. A couple of minutes later, you come back, wearing the neglige -- which is more than a little revealing, while still remaining decent. I whistle through my teeth, and you scowl a little.