Ali's Art Ch. 05

Mom turned to me, lying across my chest. She rubbed her breasts against my tee shirt, spreading my cum across it. Then she leaned over and kissed me, directly on the mouth. My cum coated her lips and it was slippery against mine. She opened her mouth and I responded, letting my tongue dart out, tasting my own cum on her lips, kissing her deeply as she kissed me back.

Finally she pulled back a little, kissed me again, softly, and said, "Am I a wicked mother, Tommy?"

I shook my head. "A wonderful mother."

"What just happened - it's not right though, Tommy."

"Did you want it?"

She looked at me and nodded. "I've wanted you to do that for... oh, a long time now."

"Really?"

She nodded again.

"And I've wanted to do that to you for a long time too, Mom."

"You have?"

I nodded and kissed her again.

She looked past me at the fireplace, at the clock above it.

"Happy Christmas, Tommy."

"Happy Christmas, Mom."

She kissed me again, deeply. "Do you want to sleep with me tonight, Tom?"

I looked at her. "I'd love to. But you know we can't. If Sarah came in, how the hell would we explain what we were doing?"

She nodded, knowing I was right, and rolled off me and pulled her clothes back on. We tidied up the room, like we did every night, like nothing different had happened, then went to our own beds.

Christmas morning, six a.m., Sarah bounced on my bed, rattling my head against the headboard, and said, "He's been, Tommy!" in a tight squeal.

"He has? Who's been?"

She punched me on the arm. "You know who. Santa. He's been. He put my present downstairs under the tree. Get up, Tommy, I want to open my presents."

"Aw, Sarah, I need a lie in this morning."

She giggled. "You do not, Tommy. Get up now, or I'll... I'll..."

"You'll what?" I grinned.

"I won't give you my present!"

I frowned. "You got me a present?"

"Duh!"

"Well, in that case." I pushed her off the bed, hard, and she landed on her butt on the floor and laughed. "Go wake Mom then, while I get dressed."

She jumped up and ran through and I heard her repeating, "He's come!" from Mom's room. I don't know if she really still believed in Santa or not. I was about her age when the magic began to fade, but I recalled I held on to the pretence for a couple more years because it felt good, and I didn't want to disappoint Mom and Dad. I can remember discussing the existence of Santa with Ali, and though she was older than me, and knew the truth, she told she had seen him one year and just knew he was real. I guess it was just one of the many reasons I loved her so much.

I got up, pulled on an old sweatshirt and pants and went downstairs were they were both waiting. Sarah was still in her Pocahontas pajamas and Mom had pulled on her old robe, and I smiled to myself.

There were three piles of wrapped presents under the small artificial tree. One of the piles was very small (mine), one pretty small (Mom's) and the third had a dozen boxes in different sizes.

Sarah was jumping from foot to foot, and Mom said, "OK, go on then," before she exploded.

Sarah squealed and picked up the largest box, tore the paper off. It was a Ken and Barbie, and she squealed again and turned to hug Mom. We watched her open her presents, sitting on the floor, trying to keep the discarded paper tidy, trying to note who each present was off. There was something from Ali, from uncle Dave and his wife, even a small one from Dag. Mom had bought her some clothes, a nice dress, some tops, but also a lot of chocolate and a lot of frivolous stuff Sarah would forget about in a year's time but which, this year, were perfect.

Sarah has left my present until last, finally picking up the wrapped box and shaking it.

She read the card and smiled. "Thanks, Tommy. Can I open it?"

"Of course you can."

She tore the paper off and gave the loudest squeal of the day, which made me feel bad. It was easy for me to spend money now, much harder for Mom.

"A Nintendo, Tommy, a Nintendo!" Sarah looked like the could hardly breath, and was shaking her head from side to side. "Mommy, look, a Nintendo, and games too, look, look!" She shoved the present right under Mom's nose, who pulled back, laughing.

Sarah opened the box and I helped her insert batteries. She sat on the sofa, crossed her little legs and stared hard as the screen lit up. She would be lost to us for the rest of the day. Mom and I watched her for a while, then I said. "You going to open yours, Mom?"

"You too," she said.

"Together?"

She smiled and nodded. "Together."

Mom had two presents for each of mine, but that was OK. She looked at the tags and put my present and Ali's to one side. "I'll open those last." She reached across and took a small wrapped box from my pile. "That's from me. You can open that last too."

We unwrapped. I had some art materials, a book of Renaissance painting reproductions with explanatory text, an Amazon gift card and, as usual from uncle Dave, $50 in cash. I could see why Ali felt the way she did about him, but I found it funny instead of insulting.

Finally there were just three presents left. I had pulled my new socks on my feet, all six pairs, and wore a new pair of new underpants on my head. Mom was behaving herself and had done nothing silly with the sexy underwear Ali and I had bought between us.

"You first," I said.

"Together," she replied.

"No. Open mine first, then I'll open yours, then you can open Ali's."

"OK," she nodded, and pulled at the wrapping.

Inside she found something soft wrapped in tissue paper and peeled it apart.

"Oh Tommy, it's wonderful," she gasped.

She stood up, letting the pure silk robe I had bought for her drop free. The material had a life of its own, soft and shimmering, the robe long, graphite gray, glowing in the morning light.

"Oh Tommy," she said again, and kissed me on the cheek.

"What you got, Mommy?" Sarah said, distracted from her game by Mom's emotional outburst.

"Look, baby," Mom said, holding the robe up against her.

Sarah looked, nodded. "Pretty," she said, and returned to her game.

Mom gave me a wry smile. "Can I put it on, Tom?"

"That's what it's for," I said.

She walked through to the kitchen. Sarah was facing away from her, but I was looking directly at her as she tugged the tie on her old robe and shucked it back off her shoulders. For a moment she stood there naked in front of me, making no effort to hide herself, then she slid the new robe on and tied it. She turned, twisted, the soft material clinging to her in a magical way.

She motioned me to come to her, and I went around the sofa and into the kitchen. She grabbed my sweatshirt and pulled me to one side, out of view of Sarah, and pulled me down to her and kissed me hard on the mouth.

"I love you so much, Tommy. Thank you."

I shrugged, but was pleased.

"Your turn now," she said, and pushed me back out of the kitchen.

I opened my present.

"I rang Alison, asked what you might want," Mom said. "She said you could use that."

I opened the box. Inside was a small digital camcorder. It was top of the range, with a high pixel count and a good lens, and Ali was right, I would use this.

I leaned over and kissed Mom on the cheek. "Thanks. It's perfect."

"What ya got, Tommy?" Sarah asked, but she didn't look up from her game.

"You got," Mom corrected her.

"What have you got, Tommy?" Sarah repeated.

I turned the camera on, said, "This. Look, Sarah," and as she glanced up captured the moment as she turned up to me and her mouth dropped open in surprise. Then she laughed and said, "Cool."

Only Ali's present was left. I had no idea what it was, though it was big, and if I had to guess I'd say it was a framed picture. I watched with a little trepidation as Mom unwrapped the paper. Surely Ali would not have given Mom one of "our" drawings, would she?

Mom lifted it up and studied it. I couldn't see what it was, but I did see tears well in her eyes and roll down her cheeks. She bit her lip and sniffed.

"What is it, Mom?" I asked.

She looked at me, tears still rolling down her cheeks. "Alison's such a thoughtful girl, Tom."

"She is," I said, impatient now. "What is it?"

Mom turned the picture to me, and I was stunned.

Ali had, somehow, managed to keep it a secret. It was a color sketch of me, done in oil crayon. It showed my head and shoulders against a pale background. She must have snatched a photograph and kept it back, worked on it in secret. I was looking off to one side, my eyes dark, hair tousled, a very faint smile on my mouth. I looked far too handsome and self assured, not at all like I felt inside, but I had to admit it was far and away the best thing of Ali's I had ever seen. There was something about it that tugged at my emotions, even made me a little uneasy. It was drawn with such love that I wondered how much of Ali's teasing was real.

"Wow," I said.

"Yeah, wow," Mom said. She wiped her arm across her eyes. "Whatever I say to Alison, I can never say thanks enough for this."

I nodded, seeing how much this meant to her.

"Wow what?" Sarah said, looking up again.

Mom turned the painting and showed her. Sarah looked at it, looked at me, nodded and said, "Mm, nice. Looks just like you, Tommy."

Mom looked at me and raised her eyebrows, then said to Sarah, "OK, my girl, put that down for now. Wash and dress, then we're going to church while the roast cooks and then we're eating way more than is good for us and then we're probably going to sleep all afternoon."

"Not me," Sarah said, holding up the Nintendo, but she turned it off and followed Mom upstairs to get ready.

I tidied the paper away in a black bag and went up to dress for church. It was about the only day of the year we went. Dad had always insisted, and after he died Mom had continued the tradition.

We were back by eleven, went upstairs to change into comfortable clothes with loose waitsbands. As Mom busied herself in the kitchen, and I annoyed her by filming everything she did. To start with she laughed and posed for me, holding the roast out to me with her leg stretched and toes pointed, but eventually she tired of the game and told me to turn it off.

We were sitting at the table by twelve-thirty. Mom had bought some good red wine, and we ate roast beef, potatoes done two different ways, corn, green beans, and gravy. Sarah drank juice, Mom and I shared wine, and after we couldn't eat any more Mom and Sarah cuddled on the sofa while I loaded the dishwasher.

I think we were probably all snoozing by three when the phone rang.

I was first up, falling off the chair. I picked up and listened, turned to Mom. "It's Mindy Cartwright, Mom. She wants to talk to you."

"Oh God," Mom said, but she rolled off the sofa and came across, smiled and took the phone.

I went back and slouched on the sofa next to Sarah.

Eventually Mom came back and scooted me across and sat beside Sarah, who was playing on the Nintendo.

"Honey?"

"Mm-hm?"

"That was Amanda's Mommy. She says Amanda's having a little party tonight, and wants to know if you want to go."

"Party?" Sarah said, her attention distracted.

"Sleep over party," Mom said.

This time Sarah looked up. "Sleep over?"

Mom nodded.

"Tonight?" Sarah tried to keep the excitement out of her voice but didn't make a good job of it.

Mom nodded again.

Sarah stood up, then sat down again. "What about you and Tommy? Can I go? Can I, Mommy?"

"Of course you can. Tommy can walk you over for five."

Sarah got up again and gave Mom an enormous hug.

"Will you miss me?"

Mom nodded. "Of course I will."

"But I can go?"

"Of course you can."

Sarah jumped up and down. "You and Tommy can have a sleepover," she said, and laughed.

Mom glanced at me, suddenly shy, and said, "Yes, I suppose we could."

I arrived back from taking Sarah across to the Cartwright's, took off my coat and gloves and wandered through to the living room.

Mom was stretched out on the sofa. She had been upstairs and showered, not bothering to dress when she came down, instead pulling on her new silk robe. It clung along her legs, outlining their full length, hugged her breasts which moved freely inside it.

She turned to look at me. "You hungry, Tom?"

I shook my head. "Not at all."

"Me neither. You can pour me some more wine though."

I went to the kitchen, opened a new bottle and filled two glasses, took them back through.

Outside it was dark and Mom had pulled the drapes, lit the fire. The room was shadowed, only a single tall lamp casting a yellow pool of light beyond the sofa.

I sat in the chair across from Mom and she turned her head and pouted. "Don't you want to come over here and give me a cuddle?"

"Do you think that's wise?" I said.

She continued pouting, then shook her head. "I don't suppose it is. But to be honest, I don't give a fuck if it's wise or not." She stared openly at me, and I think I was more shocked by her saying fuck than by what else she was implying.

She sat up and patted the cushion again. "Graham cuddle," she said, and I knew exactly what she meant.

I took off my shoes and slid in behind her, parting my legs so they went either side of her. Then she lay back against me and wriggled up so she was tight against my crotch. She grabbed my hands and pulled them around her, placed them very deliberately, one across her belly, one directly on her breast. The thin silk of the robe hid nothing, and it felt as if my hand lay directly on her skin. I felt her nipple stiffen under my palm, pressing hard against it.

Mom sighed deeply. "This is nice, Tom, don't you think?" She half turned back to look up at me and I nodded.

"Hug me tight, Tom, like you did last night..."

I pulled her back against me, kissed the top of her head, damp hair fresh against my lips.

Mom sighed again and relaxed against me. She had moved up and the back of her head level was with my lips, the full roundness of her ass resting against my lower belly. Her legs were stretched out and she lifted one and let it rest over mine.

I rolled her hard nipple between two fingers and she gasped lightly and I stopped.

She rocked her head and murmured, "No, it's OK Tommy, I like that."

I kissed her gently behind her ear and felt her shiver.

My other hand was still across her stomach, and I now used it to tug at the tie of her robe until the knot came free. I drew the soft material aside to reveal her naked body underneath, allowing my fingers to lightly trace across Mom's slim stomach as it became exposed.

Mom sighed again and said, "You can take some of your stuff off too if you want, Tom."

I lifted her away and pulled my shirt over my head. Mom moved to the far end of the sofa and watched me. She glanced down at my jeans and gave a tiny nod and I stood and unzipped them, tugged them down. It was obvious my cock was hard in my shorts, and she looked at me and nodded again and I pulled them down and sat back naked on the sofa.

Mom wriggled her shoulders out of her robe, folded it carefully over the arm of the chair, and came back to me, settling between my legs, both of us now naked, our skins touching in a thousand sensitive places.

My cock was rock hard and nestled in the curve of her back, the base tucked in between the round cheeks of her ass. I cupped her full breasts in my palms and rolled their weight, lifting and pressing against her, squeezing her hard nipples.

I kissed her neck and ran my tongue up the line of her jaw and on to the lobe of her ear and she sighed and shivered. I was beyond restraint now, knew what was coming next, and wanted it.

Still palming her breast in one hand I dropped the other to her thigh and slowly let my fingers rise up along the soft inner curve of her leg. I could see my hand caressing her as I peered down over her shoulder, taking in her large exposed breasts. She had trimmed her pubic hair, leaving a tuft of blonde hair in a strip above but removing everything else.

The scent of her damp sex rose up and encompassed us both. My cock was on fire and I wriggled in an attempt to ease the pressure and Mom moved her ass back against me and pushed and that didn't really help at all.

I traced the upper hollow inside her thigh, then across to her hip and back, but this time along the lower edge and continuing on until my fingers ran over her pussy lips. Mom shuddered and pushed herself back against me.

I cupped her pussy inside my hand, curling my fingers down and over her, feeling the heat and the moisture coming off her, and applied pressure so my middle finger parted her pussy. The lips of her labia felt smooth where she had shaved herself, and as I dipped my finger inside her the heat and wetness of her soaked it immediately. I gently insert my finger deeper and crooked my thumb under my palm so it lay against the hard nub of her clitoris. Mom responded by pushing her hips upwards against my hand, urging me to continue.

The head of my cock was soaked with pre-cum and I could feel it leaving a trail of slickness against her back, the base wedged between the upper cheeks of her ass, the length of it lying along her back, the head cradled in the valley of her spine.

"That's wonderful," she murmured.

I took her weight back against me, aroused beyond belief at the feel of her skin along the underside of my cock and within moments my pre-cum had slicked her spine and I felt myself moving along a lubricated groove as I humped against her.

I replaced my hand over her pussy and began to work more seriously. Mom was breathing hard now, rocking her hips and twisting herself so she could feel my fingers on her pussy and my cock against her back. I pressed her breast inside my hand and pulled on her nipples, transferring from one to the other, kissing her on the soft curve of her neck.

She began to make light grunting noises and the pulse of her hips became more rapid and I knew she was very close to cumming. I relaxed the muscle inside my ass and let my own pleasure build, wanting to cum with her. I increased the rhythm of my hand on her pussy, pressing my finger deep inside and rubbing hard with my thumb on her clit.

Her grunting became louder, synchronized with the push of her pubic mound against my hand, and then I felt her start to tremble, beginning in her thighs and then spreading to her stomach. She cried out softly, biting down on her lip to stifle the sound, and I rubbed her frantically and she bucked up away from me, fell back and bucked again.

My own arousal tipped over and I felt juices fill my cock and overflow. I spurted warm cum against her back, jet after jet exploding out of me and covering her. She gripped her legs together, trapping my hand, and I felt warm fluid gush onto my palm as she came, shivering and jerking, hissing between her lips.

Slowly she relaxed, leaning back against me, jerking now and then as the passion drained from her. She lay fully against me and wriggled, spreading my cum between us. My cock was still hard, still aroused and she could feel me where it lay along the curve of her back.

"Oh Tommy," she said gently," I know we shouldn't have done that, but I couldn't..." she stopped and I felt her shaking again and realized she had started to cry.

"Mom..." I was appalled at myself. I had made my beautiful mother cry, and all because I couldn't control myself.

She twisted against me and turned over, tears rolling down from her cheeks and dripping from her chin. She pulled herself up and placed her lips against mine and kissed me.

"It's OK, Tommy, it's OK. I... I couldn't stop myself... I didn't want you to stop... it's been so long since I've felt anything like that... thank you, Tommy... thank you." She kissed me again, more deeply.

"I love you so much, Mom," I said.