Becoming the Alpha Male Ch. 02byMaryAnderson©
At work the next day the boss said his wife's mother had taken ill and they were leaving town that night. He'd be back at the and of next week. Until then, we were off.
When I got home I suggested to Mom that we take advantage of the opportunity and see if we could use Grandad's townhouse at the beach. She said things at work were slow. She didn't expect a problem if she asked for a few days off.
She was also thinking along the same lines I was. "What if your Dad wants to go?"
"The annual convention with the suppliers is the week after next. I bet Grandad's got him working late every day preparing. Why don't you call Grandad to see if we can use the townhouse?"
"Not so fast Buster. If you're going to be the family member to stand up to Grandad, you can't have me asking favors for you. You'll have to talk to him yourself."
That evening I went to Grandad's and asked about the townhouse. He simply handed me the keys. "Your Mom looks great. I haven't seen her this happy in years. You guys have fun." He added, almost wistfully, "Your Mom deserves better than she's gotten."
I broached the subject of Dad. "I also figured that with the convention coming, you'll need Dad to stay here."
I had tried to pass this off as a casual inquiry, but he thought about it, rolling it around in his head. Finally he said, "You're right. Tell your Dad he's staying here." Grandad and I talked for several more hours. I actually enjoyed myself. By the time I got home the house was dark.
The next morning I gave Mom the good news. We decided to hit the gym, I'd let Dad know when we got back, and leave. At the gym Mom got more good news; she was within one and one-half pounds of her target weight. When we got home I sat down with Dad.
"Morning champ. Why aren't you at work?"
"The boss had a family emergency and had to leave town. He gave us a few days off. Mom and I decided to take advantage of it. I spent the evening with Grandad last night, we had a few beers. He's going to let Mom and I use the townhouse for a few days. He wants you to stay here and get ready for the convention."
"Why didn't he tell me himself?"
"Don't know, he asked me to. If it's a problem you'll have to take it up with him."
I could see Dad simmer. What was it? That I was chumming it up with a man who frightened him, that his son was delivering orders to him, or that any dare to stand up to his father was an assault on his manhood?
When Mom appeared Dad complained about being left out. Mom's retort was instantaneous and sharp. "I've busted my ass to get back in shape. I don't need your permission to go to the beach to show off the new bod for a few days with the man who, unlike you, has done so much to bring it about."
She approached me, well into my personal space, and ran a hand across my chest. "You can be confident this stud will take very good care of me."
I didn't expect Mom to be this physical or flirtatious. She was taunting Dad. Well, why not go with the flow. I moved behind Mom and raised her arms as if she was lifting weights, bumping her butt with my considerable erection. "With these looks you can see why she needs protection, but I suspect she can protect herself." I wrapped my arms around her torso. "She does look great, doesn't she Dad?"
Dad looked at me, trying to find the right words, and finally settled on, "Yeah, your Mom's very pretty."
"Oh, c'mon Dad, you can do better than that. How about, sexy as hell."
Dad looked at Mom, hoping she would correct me. When nothing happened, he said, "I guess I've got to get to work. You two have fun." He shuffled out.
Mom turned towards me, pointing at my penis. "You got control of that thing?"
"Not when hot women are rubbing my chest."
"Well, I had told myself I wouldn't buy new clothes until I hit the target, but if I am going to go to the beach to show off I'll need a few items. I also texted my hair stylist, I need a fresh haircut. I should be back in about three hours to pack. Get ready to go."
I took about ten minutes to pack and called my friend Jim to see if he wanted to shoot some hoops. Mom and I headed out the door at the same time. I asked her to text me when she got back.
"You don't think I can get back in three hours?'
I was right, I heard from her six hours later. However, the wait was worth it. She looked great. Her hair was cut so that it fell a few inches below her shoulders. It had an unkempt, wild look. She was wearing tight jeans and a tank top without a bra. After an hour of packing she was ready to go.
We got to the beach about six. After we unloaded the car Mom suggested we go for a run. She disappeared into the bedroom and returned, dressed in some of the new wardrobe: an aqua sports bra and pair of tiny red shorts. She looked good.
We did six miles. When we returned Mom asked me to start preparing dinner while she showered. I had just finished chopping up the fruit and vegetables when she re-emerged. She was wearing no make-up and combing her hair back. For clothes she had on one of my tee shirts and, from the way it clung to her damp body, nothing else. The tee shirt hung half-way to her knees.
"Your turn, Buster. And be quick about it."
When I got out of the shower I put on shorts only. Two could play this no underwear game. When I got to the kitchen I could see the fixings for salad dressing but no Mom.
"Out here, on the porch."
Mom was sitting in the two person hammock on the private porch overlooking the water. She had a bowl of salad in her hands. The other bowl was on a nearby table. I grabbed the food and joined her on the hammock.
Mom looked at me, her eyes and smile approving. "You've grown into quite the man."
"Thank you. And you are quite the sexy lady."
"Hmmmm, about that, there are a few things I want you to know, things mothers don't usually share with their sons.
"Most of my junior and my senior year in high school I dated Harold. Very sweet, kinda shy, smart, polite. Mothers loved him. He was on the chess team. At the time I had the build you saw in the pictures Dad brought home. I was on the gymnastics team; I was slender, flat-chested, flexible, and strong. Guys on the team hit on me and I knew some of the girls slept with some of the boys, but I was loyal to Harold.
"Harold was inexperienced and not aggressive. The farthest he ever got was second base and I had to plop his hand on my breast to get him there. I was frustrated and I know it sounds hackneyed, but I was determined to lose my virginity on my prom night. I bought the sexiest dress my mother would allow and I did look fine.
"Unfortunately, someone poured alcohol into the punch and Harold, who never drank, was out cold by 10:00 P.M.
"I was not ready to go home. Three of the guys and three of the girls on the gymnastics team had come as a group and I started dancing with them. After awhile the team captain offered to drive me and my slumbering boyfriend home. I knew exactly what that meant. We dropped Harold off at his house and drove to a secluded spot where I did it the first time.
"Turned out I loved sex. I had a few more dates with Harold, but that summer was mostly devoted to getting laid. With my addition the group that had gone to the prom had three guys and four gals and pretty much open rights to each others' bodies. It was a wild summer.
"I expanded my horizons at college. Away from home I found I enjoyed not only fucking, but playing the slut. I liked men's eyes on me. Around the campus I made no effort to hide my body and never played hard to get. I slept with a variety of guys, including a professor. Sometimes I'd dress provocatively, including wearing a pair of falsies, and hit the bars of the upscale hotels looking for attractive businessmen in town with expense accounts. I was also doing it with several members of my gymnastics team. I even tried a sorority mate.
"Then I want to the event at your Grandad's dealership. Your Dad was older than I, had a good job, was unfailingly polite, and at the time was not a bad looking guy. He also had some semblance of a backbone. He asked me out, we fucked – I may have been his first – and I ended up pregnant. He was not my only lover, but he was the only one who asked me to marry him. It was not exactly the life I wanted, but still it looked like a pretty good life and I accepted. Unfortunately, over the years he's lost most of his spirit. I was following right behind him until our sudden turn of events."
By this time we had finished our meals. She took my bowl from me and put it with hers on the table.
We lay down in the hammock. She looked out at the ocean awhile, lost in thought. It was the kind of silence that feels like it has weight. It was also the kind of silence that it is up to the other person to break.
Finally she did. "You need to let me decide how far and how fast. Agreed?"
I slipped an arm under her head, wrapping it down the side of her body. After awhile Mom laid her leg over mine.
"I like it when you hold me."
We lay like that for what seemed half an hour and then Mom shifted, picking her head up and kissed me, carefully and tentatively She pecked the center of my mouth, then each corner. I kissed her forehead. She gave me as incandescent a smile as I've seen and offered me her lips. I gave her a peck, as she had done with me. This time, however, her lips responded, caressing my own. We spent the next minutes kissing, exploring the contours of each other's lips and mouths. Finally, I felt her mouth open and accept my tongue inside. For awhile I was cautious, simply playing with her tongue.
When we broke the kiss she gave a long contented sigh and snuggled against me, her hand resting on my thigh, "You're a good kisser."
"Hard not to be with you to inspire me."
Again she lifted herself up and turned towards me. Her strong hand was on my chest, moving up and down, rubbing me.
"Randy, I think you're an absolutely beautiful young man."
We started kissing again, at first slowly, but soon we were like two frantic high school students, our lips and tongues searching everywhere, whispering sweet words of affection and low moans of desire, our hands clawing each other, our bodies shaking with need. My dick was throbbing. I was already fucking her in my mind. Then Mom suddenly called a stop to it.
"I think that's enough for tonight."
She lay back down next to me. My fucking cock ached. I decided, barely, not to proclaim the need for another shower so I could jack off. Instead I wrapped my arms around her. Eventually the warm breeze from the ocean and the swaying of the hammock had their effect and we both fell asleep.
About an hour later we were awakened by a car horn in the parking lot. Mom slid off the hammock, grabbed the dirty dishes, and headed for the kitchen. I followed, staring at her ass, imagining leaning her over the kitchen counter, pulling up the tee shirt, and taking her from behind. Instead, I dried the dishes after she washed them. When we were done she stretched and said, "If we are going to hit the gym first thing in the morning, we better get to bed."
"Good, I've been thinking of some new night-time stories."
Mom put her arms around my neck, clasped her arms behind my head, kissed me, and leaned her head back to look me in the eyes.
"I thought we agreed, I would decide how far and how fast."
What I thought was, "Yeah, but I thought that meant tonight." What I said was, "We did."
She kissed me again and patted my erection, twice.
"Tell that bad boy that tonight was like a first date. He's supposed to go to bed frustrated."
She held my hand as we walked down the hall and reached the master bedroom. "Tonight your Mom sleeps in here." She pointed down the hall, "You get one of those."
I closed the door, got into bed, and brought myself off with sweet thoughts of Mom dancing in my head.
* * * *
The next morning I was greeted by my Mom's drill sergeant voice and smiling face. A glance at the clock confirmed what I suspected, it was 6:00 A.M.
"Mom, we're on vacation."
"Time to hit the gym."
When we got to the gym she took my hand in hers as we walked across the parking lot. We spent two hours working out and in a place where no one knew us we took on the roles of boyfriend and girlfriend: taking occasional breaks to check on the other, standing close to and touching each other, making frequent eye contact, laughing and flirting.
When we got back to the townhouse we decided to lay out in the sun on the porch. I donned a pair of swim trunks; she disappeared into the bedroom and emerged about twenty-five minutes later with hair combed, make up applied, hoop earrings, and a string bikini with a thong. She was carrying a small satchel from which she fished sun tan lotion. We covered our fronts, I quickly, she taking her time, particularly enjoying rubbing it into the skin around her breasts and groin, putting on a show for my benefit.
She then lay down. "Do my back."
I straddled Mom's calves, applying the lotion first to her feet and then moving up. "Mmmmmmmmm....," feels good," she said.
By this time I had plenty of experience rubbing her back and legs and knew what she liked. What I was giving her was mostly a massage, but I was getting no complaints. When I got to her upper thighs I attacked them with enough force to ensure she felt the reverberations in her pussy. I was within a finger length of her box. I thought about slipping a finger inside her, but stopped. She exhaled. Was that disappointment?
I liberally squeezed the lotion on to her all but naked ass. I worked it into her firm majestic butt and then down her sides, slipping a finger to apply a final coat along her hips facing the ground. Her breathing was becoming deeper, heavier.
I moved up to her back. The red bikini top was tied in a bow in the back. I untied it.
Her voice, husky, "Make sure you retie it when you're done."
I undid the string, and lay the ends on the ground next to her. I worked her back, neck, and shoulders. She murmured her appreciation. Then I moved to her sides, running my hands along the sides of her breasts. Then I saw it. While the movement was small, almost imperceptible, she was rocking her hips, pressing her pussy against the floor. My hands were within inches of her breasts. Reluctantly, I refrained
I ran a finger down her spine.
"Did I miss a spot?"
I retied the bikini top and laid down.
She squirted lotion on her hands and did my back and then my feet and calves. Unlike me, she seemed hurried, impatient. It was far from the sensual application I had bestowed on her. I started to wonder if I had done something wrong. However, when she reached my thighs, she slowed. Her hands became insistent; she worked the muscles deeply. I could feel the strength of her hand and arms. Then her hands moved up, into the leg of my swim trunks, onto my ass. She raked ten strong fingers across my ass. My cock was a piece of iron.
Then, "You win. Roll over Buster, let's massage what you really want. Let me see the bad boy you've been torturing me with."
I rolled over and she pulled my swim trunks down.
She took my hard cock in her hands, studying it. "You certainly didn't inherit this slab of meat from your father."
Never taking her hand off my erection, she kissed my mouth, exploring it from my lips to its deepest recesses. I responded, but let her take the lead.
After awhile she lay her head on my shoulder while continuing to play with my hard cock. She wasn't trying to bring me off. She seemed more interested in just exploring, trailing a finger from the head to the testicles to test its length, wrapping her hand around it to determine its girth, squeezing it to see how hard it was, and then taking each testicle in her hand, judging their size and weight. Part of me wanted to beg her to jerk me off, but another part was simply enjoying this slow tentative journey around my penis.
After awhile she turned towards me and got up on elbow, and looked down at me. "God, I love your body." She kissed and licked my belly button, chest, and nipples. When she reached my mouth she re-explored it. Her hand continued to rove, gently, around my chest and cock, acquainting herself with its shaft, head, testicles, and the sensitive skin of my inner thighs.
You can imagine my state of arousal and lack of any objection when she whispered, "Ready to go, Buster?"
She reached into the satchel and retrieved some baby oil. After spreading it on her hand, she firmly grabbed my cock.
"I always liked them big."
She held it right below the head and moved her hand up and down, determining how far she could stretch the skin. Then she started jerking me off, beginning with slow, long strokes, monitoring my reaction as she intensified the process. Her free hand found my testicles. Then she started talking.
"What a nasty little slut am I, frigging my own son's big cock. That's what you want, isn't it, a slut Mommie. I can see the way you look at me, you like this new hard body. Tell me the truth, you want to turn me into your personal slut, your personal whore, don't you Buster. You want me there to fuck whenever you want. You want a live-in always-horny personal slut, don't you?"
Her earlier patient exploration of my shaft already had me at a high state of arousal and her dirty talk was getting to me. A few months back this had been my sweet, rather dull Mom.
"I love your big hard cock. I think about having it in my pussy. Are you ready to fuck your own Mommy. Are you ready to be a motherfucker? Do you imagine your Mom riding this fucking tent pole, is that what you want?"
My cock was getting even harder as more and more blood rushed into it. And then, as my mother continued to taunt me, I felt the cum, which had reached the boiling point in my testicles, start to surge. Mom went on.
"Is this why you worked me so hard this summer? You wanted a hard-bodied Mom you could fuck whenever you wanted? An in-house fuck machine? Someone who wouldn't settle for anyone but a stud like you? Are you sure you're man enough to please me? Are you ready to fuck all day long?"
"FUCK YES," I screamed, spraying cum across my chest.
I lay gasping for air while Mom used a finger to transfer droplets of my jism from my chest to her mouth. "You shoot a bigger load than your Dad. Tastes better too."
After letting me catch my breath, Mom said, "Well, now I know why you've been so supportive this summer. I have your confession."
"You can't be so sure, men will confess to anything while getting a good hand job."
"A good hand job?"
"Okay, a great hand job."
* * * *
We lay outside for an hour, our bodies touching, holding hands. Finally Mom stood and offered her hand to help me up.
"Let's take a shower to wash off this lotion."
We walked to the bathroom. I pulled my trunks off. She stepped out of her bikini bottom and turned her back to me. I untied the top and it fell to the floor. She turned to me.
"So, what do you think?"
I took my time admiring her body. She was curvy and strong. Her ass was amazing, round and firm and already showing a preternatural power to defy gravity. She studied me with the same attention to detail.
"You like what you see?"
"How about my boobs?"
Mom had never been well endowed, and the loss of body fat had resulted in shrinkage up there. I had never really been a tit man, or more accurately, I liked all boobs regardless of size. Mom's were just fine.
"When I was in my early twenties I was slight, my small boobs fit my build. I'm much curvier now. Do you think they should be bigger?"
"Mom, they're great. You're the last woman on earth to have body image issues. Your frickin' gorgeous."