Finding Our Way Bk. 02

I moved my hand up her silky thighs, pushing the dress up to her cherry red panties, stroking the seam of her lower lips through the smooth material. "Do you think about playing with other men or women?" I asked, far less threatened by the idea than I had been a year ago.

She spread her dancer's legs to give me easy access. Then she frowned in thought, and said, "No other men. You already bring all the male-based pleasure I can handle. Any other man would just be a waste of time for me. As for women," She was starting to breathe a little bit heavier. She squeezed my cock tighter, and began to stroke me while twisting at the same time. "I might like a little pussy now and then if the right pussy comes along. Maybe I'll send you out to get some for yourself just so I can suck her flavor off of you when you get back." I moaned at her words and her hand-work. Then she smiled at the next thought she had. "You think we burned too bright for Kim? Let's go to the bedroom. I think we can burn even brighter!"

Chapter 2

Automotive Dealings

Now, I have mentioned this previously. Between the two of us mom is the more tech savvy. I know my way around most computer software I encounter, but mom has always had a natural way with the hardware. Neither of us is a motor head, but mom knows more there too, as she has bought a few cars over the years and needed to know her way.

My old beast gave up the ghost two months after Kim left. With my slick job at the PR firm and virtually no expenses (as there was no rent to pay at Mom's house, and she was happy to buy and often prepare the food) I figured I could afford a pretty nice new set of wheels. Mom offered to help me make sure I got a good car and a decent price. We went to a local dealership managed by a guy named Rich. He and Mom had dated about a year and a half before she and I found our way into each other's arms. Because the manager knew Mom he would give us a good deal, but we would have to stay in "mother/son mode."

Rich was taller than me, but his sandy hair was thinner than my darker locks. He had a relaxed smile on his own turf (his lot,) and seemed genuinely happy to see both Mom and me. His eyes danced over her slender physique, and who could blame him? Years of dance (if only in the studio) had kept my mother's frame lean and her muscles long and strong. She had long black hair with only one or two streaks of grey, an aquiline nose hedged by high round cheeks and a pair of stunning dark green eyes. Things had ended between them on amicable terms, but judging by the way Rich scanned mom's luscious curves he would probably have been happy to start things up again any time.

I gravitated to a hunter green two-seat roadster (are all roadsters two-seaters? Sorry. I really don't know anything about automotive matters.) Rich and Mom accompanied me, both quiet. I turned and smiled. Mom was looking at me with humor in her face and arms crossed. Rich had his hands in the pockets of his tan suit, and looked back and forth between the two of us; trying to work out the dynamic of who would actually be making the purchasing decision. He was an honest salesman, and we all knew he would give us a fair price for whichever car we landed on. For him, now, it was about time: getting the sale done quickly and comfortably (and maybe scoring a date with my mother) so he could move on to the next customer to walk through his door. Who needed be to be convinced by whom?

"Whadda ya think?" I asked. "I can really see myself cruising around in his baby."

Mom made a face like she was actually considering it. She shrugged her shoulders, arms and still crossed. "Yeah, Sweetheart. You would look really great! That thing is a total pussy magnet."

Rich and I froze. I think that if he hadn't already been intimate at one time with mom he would have turned and strolled off to let us settle it. But I think Rich knew from experience (likely his favorite memories) that Mom had a way with words; dirty words. She was smiling at me with a twinkle in her eye.

She turned to Rich. "Isn't that right, Rich?" She gave him a radiant smile. He actually leaned back a little and opened his mouth, but struggled for a reply.

I found my voice. "No, Mom, the only... I don't want..." How was I going to phrase this in a strictly platonic son to mother way? I had started to say that the only "pussy" I wanted was hers. But, of course, that was nothing for Rich's ears. Then I had begun to say that I don't want anyone else. But I knew I could not follow that up with any kind of story about having any sort of girlfriend. Our story required that I be single, even if no one asked. We could not afford to have Rich comparing notes with someone else who knew us at some time in the future.

Rich looked relieved at not having to answer mom's query. Mom looked tickled at my struggle for words. "I just..." I started and stopped again.

"Oh, don't worry sweetheart. I didn't mean that in a bad way. You're a grown man, and you know I respect your sexual...appetites." Both were facing me. Rich was standing to Mom's right, and she had a large purse dangling from her right shoulder laid on her right hip. So when she let her left hand drift down to briefly pat the groin of her tight jeans, he had no chance of seeing it. "If you want to get this car, and use it to get lots of girls, that's fine. But in order for it to do its job you will have to keep it in perfect condition and always spotless. Otherwise, you will have spent a lot of money (and suffering terrible gas mileage) for nothing."

I hated taking care of my old car, and I had no big plans of spending too much time on my next. Mom was totally right, and Rich could see it on my face. But Mom wasn't done. "Besides, those little two-seaters can make it harder to get all the action you want." She smiled again at Rich. He didn't know what to do so he smiled as if her did, and shrugged. Back to me Mom said, "The best you'll get from a girl in that thing is a blow job."

Rich looked ready to wander off, but Mom stepped toward him to the point that her right upper arm bumped into his left. He wasn't going anywhere. "Maybe," she continued without looking away from me, "you'll get some tiny girl in there to do more, but a taller woman won't be able to give up much no matter how much she really wants to. There just isn't enough room." She shrugged her shoulders, resting her case, and finally looked over to Rich. They both laughed (his was more nervous than hers.) She was right. Mom was 5"8', and the little roadster would limit our options.

Now, just in case you've skipped ahead to this chapter, it's worth mentioning that - though it may sound like it - Mom was not getting jealous or petty here. She didn't mind if I did screw around with women my own age, and she knew well enough by now that no one would ever replace her. She was playing with me, and flirting a bit with Rich; maybe to keep him off our scent, maybe to get him to give us a good price or maybe just to get my blood up so I'd give her a good fucking when we got home...probably a combination.

In any case, Rich could see that Mom was the one who really knew what would be a good buy, and that I would listen to her. She was the one he needed to sell, directly or indirectly. He chose to address me; being on her side.

"She's right, Kevin. This machine will definitely interest the girls, and it will take you and a date where you want in style. But any other...uh...recreational activities? Well this won't really do." Frankly, what else could he say? Was he going to turn to Mom and say, "Oh no, you could fuck a girl silly in this car!" I don't think so.

I gestured to a monstrous SUV. "How about that one? I could have a whole orgy in that!" Rich turned red, but my mother only laughed. She knew that I wasn't going to get one of those things. We had an old fashioned garage that wouldn't have fit it. Not to mention the gas mileage and the fact that it instantly kills passengers of smaller cars if you have an accident. A roadster could be fun, but those boxy behemoths didn't interest me.

"Moving on, young man." She said with good cheer. She took Rich's arm, and mumbled something to him. He nodded agreement and laughed. He looked like he wanted to say more, but hesitated looking over his shoulder at me. I did my best to keep my chin up, and not to stare at my mother's pert little ass in those tight dark blue jeans.

"Maybe," he said in a struggle to keep us both happy, "we can find something that's still sporty but more spacious and safe than the roadster." Mom squeezed his shoulder in approval.

And he did manage to find us a nice car - dark blue, like those jeans encasing the ass and pussy Mom had long ago dedicated to me - while still having sleek sporty lines. (Also like Mom's lower and upper body, now that I think about it!) Rich leaned heavy on the safety of the new car, assuring Mom that her baby boy would come to no harm in it. Mom offered to cover the extras, like built in voice activated cell phone and a great stereo system...at least she assured me that it was a great system. Again, that's more her department than mine. As I began to agree to their choice, Mom got one more dig in. Just before Rich headed to the office, she said (loud enough for him to hear, of course,) "Don't worry, Babe. I promise you'll get Pleeeeenty of trim in this car. And the sound system will blow a girl's panties right off."

Rich stumbled slightly, but recovered easily and went along to the main office of the dealership to get the paperwork started. Mom wrapped both of her arms around my right upper-arm and said softly, "That's assuming she's wearing panties in the first place. You know I'm not, stud."

I was already hard, so my member just throbbed at her words. "I think I'm a little bit jealous of how you flirted with Rich over there." I said. Mom turned to look at the big glass window where most of the sales staff congregated. Rich walked in, and we could see him speaking. He neither looked nor gestured toward us, but three young men looked out at us as he finished whatever sentence he'd formed. He kept busy in there, but the salesmen had been checking my sexy mother out all along so I can guess some of what they were talking about.

"I don't believe that," Mom said.

"It's true. I'm feeling pretty insecure now." I said extra softly. "I'll have to take you home and strip you down like an uncooperative car. I'll have to spank you and fuck you and lick you wherever you're sore and keep you coming and coming until I'm convinced that you're all mine again."

She laughed out loud, and threw her arms around me. She hugged me, rocking us side to side and taking care not to grind her pelvis into me like we would when alone, just a happy Mom giving her son a hug. "I certainly hope that part is true," she murmured into my ear. "But we both know I'm all yours, Baby."

The other salesmen were talking to Rich. It is hard to describe the body language; small arm movements, ducking the head and tilting it towards us out the window. Between my own experiences among young men, knowing how Mom had flirted with Rich and maybe a bit of my own intuition I could tell that they were trying to get him psyched up. He was grinning, and shaking his head; refusing to look out the window. "He's going to ask you out on a date, you know." I said in a soft voice.

She sighed, and squeezed my neck a little tighter before loosening her grip and leaning back to be able to look me in the eye. "Yeah, I get that feeling too. Can't blame him, really. I flirted pretty shamelessly." The advantage of this hugging/standing position is that our groins could almost touch. Almost.

"So what are you going to say when he asks?"

Mom looked shocked and slightly wounded. "What do you mean, Kevin?" I smiled at her - reassuringly, I hoped. "Nothing bad, Mom. It's just that you've gone on about how I'm free to enjoy other women. I just think that it's only fair if you...you know...that you have the same freedoms you allow me. I want you to know that you get to say whether you'll go out with someone or not."

She stepped back a little bit, but held onto my forearms. She shook her head and said, "No, Kevin. That's not how I want it. I appreciate what you're trying to say, but I'm not looking for an exactly balanced relationship. I never have. The relationship I had with your father was very unbalanced, and I was quite content. I want a different sort of "unbalanced" with you." I looked over her shoulder to the window. Rich was sitting at a desk, tapping at a console. The salesmen under him had decided (or had been told) to leave him alone. Mom continued, "I love that I belong to you. I am your plaything at home. We understand that I can have a final say if I don't want something or if I need some time to adjust to it, like the time it took me to get into anal play with you. But I am happier than I can remember ever being in my life belonging to you, because I know you so well: I know that you love and respect me, that I can belong to you without you taking that ownership somewhere too dark. Like I showed you that first night we shared a bed, I know I can trust you. I am happy - in an I'm-getting-the-crotch-of-these-jeans-wet kind of happy - belonging to someone I can trust and love like you." She squeezed my arms. "In matters of who touches me where and when, you are the boss. Okay? Because this mouth, these hands..." She leaned in, and cupped her hand to my ear to whisper, "These tits. This pussy. They belong to you." She licked my outer ear and then backed away.

I smiled, and rubbed at the ear so none of the roaming customers would see her saliva there. The salesmen and the customers all kept their distance, but I felt their eyes on us. Mom was still standing very close, and spoke softly, so her words would still only reach me. "Do you want me to go out with Rich? I will if you tell me to. I'll even let him do things with me if you tell me that's what you want. I'd really appreciate it if you would let me keep...you know..." she looked down at her pants and back up to me. "I'd like to keep my pussy pure for just you, if you're okay with that."

"Are you making fun of me or something?" I said just as softly.

"No. I really have no interest in touching any penis except the one in your pants, and I really will only let Rich touch me where you've made me wet if you insist that it's what you want me to do." She was looking down at the floor in a kind of secret submission. Then she looked up into my eyes. "I could get him all heated up, and make him tell me all the things he wants to do with me. Then I'd come home to you. I'd tell you what he came up with, and we could do all those things. Rich was a pretty creative guy."

Mom had made similar suggestions of being willing to do all sorts of things back some time ago when I briefly moved out of the house for appearances. I knew she meant it to some degree, but I was beginning to realize just how literally committed my mother was to serving me. I tilted my head to a side as I considered this. Her happy green eyes lever left mine.

"Mom, if I asked you to get on your knees and blow me here on the show room floor, you would really do it, wouldn't you?"

She licked her lips at the thought. "Kevin, having your dick in my mouth is like...an honor for me...or something like that. When I'm tasting you, I'm just filled with gratitude...and your rock hard meat, of course. Hell, yes I'll fucking deep throat you right here and now. We'll probably have to move to another town and get new jobs, but I don't care. I'll fuck you silly in the moving van. I'll suck you off on the drive to the next town. I'll interview for new jobs while sitting on your cock...preferably teleconference interviews...I mean, baby, you can bury your Thing in my ass while I talk."

She was getting visibly excited, and I started to worry that she really would drop to her knees and reach for my fly in order to get the fantasy started. "Okay, Mom. Okay. I believe you. Calm down. You would really go out with Rich if I told you to?"

"I'll go ask him out, and dress up like a slut for the date as long as I can know that you'll take care of my wet little mommy-pussy when I bring it back home to you." She made a pout, and asked, "Should I agree to go out with him?"

I looked down at her long lean legs, encased in those tight blue jeans. Her black leather belt was cinched tight to accentuate her narrow waistline. Her two-sizes-too-small violet turtleneck accentuated her lovely naval-orange sized breasts. She may not have been wearing panties, but she was definitely wearing a lacy bra under the tight top. Her long elegant neck, and finally her heart shaped angel's-face under long raven tresses. She was an unreal beauty, and I was awed to be in such nearly-complete possession of her.

I knew that I was going to take her home. I would tell her to strip, and she would, no matter which room we were in. I would lay her down, and I would spread her succulent thighs apart, and I would plunge long and deep inside her. I would squeeze and suck on her centerfold-quality breasts. I would fill her with my sex, and I would fill her with my seed, and - as insane as it seemed - she would thank me!

She smiled at my awed scrutiny of her majestic beauty; almost as if she knew what I was thinking, and couldn't wait any more than I could.

"No, I said. Poor Rich. He's a nice guy. I couldn't abuse him like that." I've read stories about couples that meet up in bars and flirt with other people in the bar before "picking up" one another. Maybe we'll do that some time. That would be more humane than wasting Rich's time and dignity.

"Wow," said Mom. "I think you're right, Kevin. I'm so proud of you, and I love you so much. She hugged me. We were still on the show room floor, so she only hugged me and gave me a peck on the cheek.

"I love you too, Mom. Let's have Rich finish up the paper work, and well come back to sign everything later today or tomorrow. I need to get you alone for a while." Mom's eyes flashed, and she practically jumped into the air. "Go on, and tell him we'll see him later, and then I want you to bring your delicious little pussy to the car. I'll wait there.

Mom made a huge lovely grin; childlike glee painted all over her expression and posture. She turned and jogged to the office. I walked out and headed to our car. I had nearly reached it, when my mother called out from behind. Now she was running, smiling like she was about to fly. She tossed me the keys, and said, "Could you drive please, Baby? I'm starving and dying of thirst."

"Sure," I said. We climbed in, and I started the engine. There was no food or drink in the car. Just as I turned the car to pull out, something happened. If you had been nearby, and if you had happened to be looking right into our car at that exact moment, you would have seen it. You would have seen my mother's head, licking her lips, dropping eagerly into my lap.

Chapter 3

Stress and Relief

"Call Mom," I told the car while pretending to myself that I hadn't just run a red light while speeding. The sound system made a static riddled click, then beeped before finally confirming my command.

I squeezed the wheel until my fingers hurt. I literally wanted to spit, but I was in my own one-year-old car.

The burbling sound that indicated that Mom's phone was ringing stopped with an abrupt thud, and my mother's voice filled the cabin, "Hi, Sweety. Running late again?"

"Hi Mom. No. I'm in the car now."

"Already? I haven't finished preparing diner yet, but..."

"There's no one else in the car with me, Mom." With the car phones and office phones, we always assumed that it was not safe to make any kind of sexy talk until the other explicitly said no one else would overhear it. I'd called her cell, so I already knew no one could hear me. "Still working on dinner" was a private euphemism for somehow getting herself ready for me sexually. Heating up a tray of food meant that she was masturbating to make her sex extra wet for the second I arrived. Dressing the chicken usually indicated lingerie or some other sort of dress up. Stuffing the turkey (or other bird) meant she was using a vibrator to loosen up her anus like Kim had taught her, and so on.