Gigolo Ch. 08

For MercyMia, who understands.

Gigolo Ch. 08: The Finale

After a number of hours and four sweet orgasms, I was blowing dust into the red headed pocket battleship, Martha Williams. I left her asleep, sucking on a thumb. Back home, I nuked the roast dinner that had been waiting on the bench top, ate then fell into bed in a coma.

Next morning, I knew Mom – Miranda was less than pleased.

“Allen, this market research job is starting to get a bit out of hand. I looked in on you last night and you were comatose. I shook you but you didn’t wake up. Are you sure you can cope with this job?”

“Oh, I think so,” I replied with a big shit eating grin. “The hours are a bit much but the money is rolling in. In fact, I’m looking at some investment opportunities to max it while I can.”

Miranda, looking all spiffy in smart outfit, her hair like spun gold, frowned. “What do you mean ‘while you can’?” she asked.

I realised my mistake and tried to cover up. “The marketing game is all up and down.” And in and out I thought to myself. “There’s quite a bit of uncertainty and if you can’t come up to scratch, you can blow it overnight. So, make hay while the sun shines, I say,” I said.

She frowned at me and I could see she was fifty/fifty. “Well, look after yourself. I’m off.” She turned on her heel and I watched entranced as her high heels made her curvaceous bottom wobble delightfully, and made her slim and elegant calves tauten with each stride. Bloody hell she was gorgeous! But, she was my mother and forbidden territory.

I sat and reflected on the last couple of months. I had made a ton of money escorting and shagging women of many ages, shapes and sizes. From amazons to pocket battleships, some young but most of them old enough to be either my mother or grandmother. It had been just marvellous even though I had some nagging misgivings about how Miranda would take the news if she knew.

I rang the Discreet Gentlemen Escorts agency and told Sheila Croker I had a head cold and made it sound good by pinching my nose with my fingers. I don’t think she believed me. Since it was Friday and that was the day I was supposed to go in and service her and her daughter, I really didn’t feel up to it. Maybe I was getting bored with shagging? Nah, not bloody likely - I was just tired.

Sheila rang late in the afternoon and enquired whether I would be OK for a dinner date on Saturday night. I assured her I would be and got the details. I was to meet a Mrs. Allen (Allen? My name was Allen? Strange coincidence!) at a well known restaurant in town at 7.30. She would be wearing a black outfit with a corsage on the shoulder. Apparently she had asked for me by name.

“Who referred her?”

“Said she shopped regularly at a flower shop, and overheard a conversation between a mother and her daughter.”

“Oh, I see. Betty and Dorothy, eh?”

“Jeez, you must have done a number on them. The old girl wants another go, but in our business, its better that you have some variety so you don’t get bored. Are you bored yet, darling?” she asked.

“Oh no, dear girl, anything but. Show me a new pussy and I become king dong.”

“You treasure, you.” Sigh. “Are you sure you can’t come over for a couple of hours. I’m out of batteries for my vibrator.”

“That’s all I am to you, Sheila, a walking dildo.” Laughing like a drain, she rang off after telling me the restaurant was the Belle Chose. I reflected that was one of the places Miranda and I liked to go. I hoped she wouldn’t be there, but, then again, she only ever went out to dinner with me.

I duly saluted the maitre d at Belle Chose and looked for the woman wearing a black outfit with corsage that I was to meet. Sitting at our favourite table was a dark halo with her back to me wearing a dark dress cut so creamy shoulders were exposed. My heart gave a sudden lurch. Even though the woman had her back to me, I’d recognise that halo anywhere. Miranda!! What the hell! Do I run or brazen it out? Fuck it – I’d never had a faint heart anyway. I approached the table and bussed her on the cheek. “Hello, mother dear. What are you doing here?”

She looked up at me with shining eyes. “Hello yourself, darling. Apparently I’m waiting for my escort for the evening. From a company calling itself Discreet Gentlemen Escorts. Are you the escort?”

I sat down next to her and managed a cheesy grin. “As it happens, Mrs. Allen I am. What gives? How did you find out?” Our waiter approached and we gave our order, plus the usual bottle of chardy.

“Well, this fell out of your pocket a few weeks ago.” She flipped one of the business cards over. “And, I happened to be in the flower shop earlier this week when I overheard an extraordinary conversation between the mother and the daughter. Seems they were raving about the sexual performance of somebody named Allen who was described as tall, dark and handsome with a healthy respect for women and their erotic needs. I even heard some of the details. I was entranced to hear about how dear Betty had jumped your bones after you had shagged her sister to a dead faint. Very quaint.”

She looked at me and her eyes twinkled. “You will appreciate that I’m not exactly a mental midget, and two and two make four. The card, the description, the easy way with women, it all equals you. I rang and made an appointment. I deliberately sat with my back to the door to see if you would chicken out. But, I knew you were braver than that, my boy. Now let’s eat and you can tell me all about your recent exploits. And I do mean all!!”

So we ate and I appraised Miranda of my ‘business’ over the last month or so. Interrupting only to elicit more details, she ate and drank steadily, occasionally shaking her head in disbelief. Another bottle of wine appeared as if by magic and we made inroads as we ate and I talked.

“No wonder you have been on the point of collapse, even at your age. It is patently clear to me that you have had an absolute ball, you filthy little swine, and been paid exorbitant money to do so. You are nothing but a male slut.” She smiled when she said it and I gave her a cheeky grin in return.

“It was hell, I tell you. I had to think of somebody erotically beautiful to get it up for those old tarts.”

“Like who?”

I eyed the creamy five inch cleavage on display in her outfit and then looked her straight in the eye.

“Actually, you, mother dear.”

Miranda went pink in the cheeks and took a gulp of the wine. “Don’t joke with me like that, Allen. It isn’t funny.”

“Miranda, I got my first erection when you put on a bikini when I was twelve. I have lost more bodily fluid perving at you than you could possibly believe. And, as you’ve got older, you have become even more attractive. You have a gorgeous hour glass figure, wonderful large breasts, a trim waist, baby making hips and wonderful, truly wonderful legs. On top of that, you are very, very easy on the eye.”

I toasted her and looked at her levelly. All humour had disappeared from the table. She regarded me solemnly. “You’re not joking at all, are you Allen?” I shook my head and took another sip of the wine and watched her carefully.

She shook her head as if to clear all that I had said. “I think I’d like another bottle of wine, Allen.” Her glass topped up, she looked at me reflectively. “You were too young to remember your father. When he died in that car accident, he was the same age as you and looked the same – tall, dark, handsome and very charming. After he died, a part of me died too. As you know, I haven’t dated. I’ve been hit on heaps of times but I’ve never ever been tempted.” She looked at me steadily and her eyes misted. “The truth is I was always happy to be with you. Even as you were growing up, I found I preferred to spend my time with you.” She took a sip of her wine, her cheeks had a pinkish tinge and the words were beginning to slur. “I’m afraid, Allen dear, you have spoiled me for another man. You have been the man in my life since your father died.” She put the glass down unsteadily and sobbed as she bent her head to snatch the serviette to hold against her mouth. “I’m sorry darling, I’ve become maudlin. Can we go?”

I paid the bill and helped her into her coat. She leant heavily against me until we reached the car. As we drove home, we were both quiet, reflecting on what she had said. We lurched into the lounge and flopped on the couch we had shared for years and sat there, each of us staring ahead, lost in our respective thoughts. The magnitude of what she had revealed had hit me like a hammer. My lovely, lonely mother was in love with me, had been for years. And then it hit me! I loved my mother! Miranda and I had been close, very close since forever. I had never contemplated a life without her. She was there, she was always there, and while I had appreciated and admired her and perved at her beautiful body, I had never let any sexual thoughts enter my stupid head. She hadn’t actually said anything remotely sexual but surely when one has laid her feelings out like that, sex must surely be there in the recesses of her thinking??

“Miranda.”

“Allen.” Simultaneously. “You first son.” She looked at me through her teary eyes and I was lost.

“Darling Miranda, the feelings I have for you are the same. You are really the only woman in my life. You are my rock, my best friend.” I turned and grabbed her by her bare shoulders and pulled her towards me. “Now, I want you to be my lover.” Her eyes widened and then slowly closed as she came willingly into my arms and we kissed – lovingly, respectfully but not like mother and son. I broke the kiss, panting slightly and lifted her into my arms and made for the stairs, her arms wrapped around my shoulders and her face buried in my neck. I could feel the warm trickle of her tears.

I kicked her bedroom door open and deposited her on the bed. She sat and watched my face as I divested myself of my tie and started undoing the shirt. “Darling Miranda, this is not incest, this is the natural extension of our love for each other. To me you are the most gorgeous woman on earth. There is no other, there never has been.” I bent down and reached behind her to find the zip for the dress. I drew it down and eased sleeves down off her motionless arms until it pooled at her waist. She was wearing a very sexy red bra with a front clasp at the base of a very deep cleavage. Her eyes had not left mine and she looked calm and composed. I put my finger under her chin. “Do you want me for your lover, mother?” and bent and kissed her, thrusting my tongue forcefully between her full lips and into the warmth of her mouth.

We kissed and our tongues duelled. She pushed me back and rose to her feet. With her hands on my shoulders, she whispered, “I want you Allen; I’ve wanted you for ages but was afraid to make the first move. Be my lover, darling, be my lover.” She put her fingers to the clasp at the front of her over filled bra, pressed and shrugged. I went weak at the knees at the sight. Her creamy mounds literally exploded, bounced but sagged only minimally. They were smooth with a tracery of blue veins. Her nipples were dark brown and grew in front of my eyes, shaped like miniature cans, round and cylindrical. Mesmerised, I stared. “You like, darling boy?” I nodded dumbly as I felt her hands moved to my belt buckle. “Touch me darling,” she whispered.

I pushed her bra off her shoulders and then gathered her breasts – one in each hand weighing their heaviness, their fullness and their smoothness. I ran each thumb over each nipple and felt them roughen up and the surrounding areolae begin to crinkle with desire. I felt my trousers drop and her hands at the top of my underwear. She bent and I lost my lovely handfuls as she swooped my daks down past my knees. Miranda gasped as my rigid cock whacked her on the cheek, leaving a trail of pre-cum as it throbbed at throbbed against her. She rubbed her face all over the perpendicular shaft then licked it from the balls to the top along the big vein. Then she took it both hands, and, looking up at me with a smile, popped the helmet into her hot, hot mouth. Instantly, my knees trembled as she applied a little suction and her tongue scooped the juice from the top.

Pausing to look up at me, she said, “I’m amazed, this cock of yours is the same as your father’s. He loved me sucking his hard, hot cock. Do you? Honey? Do you.”

I could only jibber like a mindless moron. “Oooh yes, oh yesssss, please!!!!” as she bent to her task, sucking and laving, sucking and swirling. “My turn.” I wrenched myself away from her glorious mouth and pushed her back on the bed, diving on to her pussy like a demented drunk. A neat dark and curly vee pointed the way to a perfectly symmetrical cuntal entrance. Gently I applied my thumbs then took them away amazed at the sight of her lips unfurling like flower in slow motion photography. A clear trickle of fluid fell down between the cheeks of her large firm bottom, past the crinkled star of her anus to pool on the sheets. I plunged my rigid hot tongue into the center of the wide open flower and heard her gasp with pleasure. Slowly I sawed it in and out, pausing to lick the flowing nectar from bottom to top, and to curl my tongue around the classically shaped clitoral hood. Heaven! My hands smoothed her inner thighs, then up the undersides to the dimpled rear of her knees to then pull her calves over my shoulders. They then found their meandering way up to her glorious breasts and those gorgeous nipples. I tweaked and caressed them and the surrounding areolae looking up slyly to see Miranda with her arm over her eyes, moaning softly. Her stomach was palpitating.

My cock was leaking like a tap, dripping onto the floor. Did I care about the carpet? Did I fuck!! “Now, darling,” I heard her say. I rose up on my knees and bending my cock down placed it at the heavenly portal. Her hands gripped my shoulders, stopping me while her eyes searched mine. She saw the absolute love shining in my eyes and pulled me to her. As she embraced me, my cock slid slowly into her tight, moist vagina, going back to whence I came. Halfway in, I pulled back out then drove into the depths, bottoming against a prominent womb. She shuddered and I felt my cock bathed in her joy, while she shrieked my name and nearly strangled me.

I pushed up so that I could breathe and to change the angle of my fucking. I needed to last, but I knew I couldn’t – it was all too erotic. We gazed at each other until her eyelids fluttered and her eyes rolled up. Her pussy clamped down tightly on me and that triggered my mad spurting. I pressed up against her public bone and felt the bullets of my sperm shoot against the opening of her womb. I kissed her deeply, lovingly, my mother, my lover. We were now one, forever and ever, amen.