Glory Hole Ch. 04

Helene finally bent on his head and kissed him one final time on the forehead, all motherly before wishing him again, "Happy Birthday, son."

"Thanks, Mom," he responded in a low tone.

"Love you," she said, still bent on his face.

"Love you too, Mom," he replied with as much warmth as he could muster in a brief second that followed.

Their eyes spoke to each other, and her hand slipped out of his wavy hair as she turned to get out of his room.

Looking back from the door, she said, "come out soon, and I'll cook you breakfast."

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Much that it had excited Peter, he felt shitty having taken advantage of his mother. He knew she kissed him back, and he felt her heart was in it as well, but he still somehow felt uneasy.

When he went down for breakfast and saw Helene was alone getting the breakfast ready for him. A great waft of fresh bacon, eggs, and bread around the table.

He looked around for his Dad and then reached his mother.

"Hey, Mom. I....." He stammered trying to remember how to start the sentence.

Helene looked at him and smiled her brightest ever to put him at ease. Her brow raised, asking him what he was saying.

"Mom, I'm sorry about this morning. I don't know what came over me and..." Peter looked into her eyes and genuinely apologized.

Helene smiled and felt happy that her son was behaving responsibly and maturely. "Don't worry. It's okay." She added with a pause "Think of it as your birthday present."

Peter could not help but grin back. Happy that it was not an issue and even happier that what he got was actually his, even if it came as a birthday present.

Helene rubbed his arm, reassuring him.

Peter could not help but admire her at the moment, even more than he did when they were in his bed that morning. She looked lovely in her large, oversized cashmere sweater and woolen tights. Her frame looked smaller in the oversized sweater than she was actually. Her hair waving loose on her shoulders, and some of her hair had come in front of her partially covering her forehead on the sides.

He recollected his go-to picture of her. He moved forward and used his fingers to pull her hair aside from her forehead. Then slipped his hand behind her head, through her hair and his other hand moved behind her back, around the waist. He came close enough to get her within an inch of his lips and said, "In that case, may I check out my birthday present again."

Without her confirming, he planted his lips on her. He pressed hard enough for her to feel the urgency. Taken by surprise, she kissed him back. His kissing grew steadily and became impassioned. On her part, she felt as if it was she who had permitted him. She let him have his kiss and reasoned that if he had done it once, another kiss won't hurt.

As they kissed, his tongue lurked on her lips and urged her to open. A couple of moments later, Peter's tongue was inside her mouth, and his tongue was on a survey of his mother's mouth. She allowed him to roam in her mouth, and when his urgency settled, she licked his tongue, and he played with hers. His hands were respectable to hold her neck and firmly keep her face on his and the other hand on her back, tightly keeping her attached to his belly.

Every few seconds, they would switch the tilt on their heads in opposite directions to find a better angle, and then they would switch back, and then again tilt it to look for an improved reach inside the others' mouth.

They parted for air, and he went forward again to enter her mouth after a couple of quick breaths. As was expected, she kept her lips closed and did not let him enter again, but neither did she step back nor tilt her head away. She let him kiss another ten kisses on her closed lips, kissing him in return for every one that he planted on her. Disappointed only just a little, he rejoiced that he was kissing his mother and moved sideways to kiss her cheeks, and then her eyes and then to her nose. He finally settled down in her neck on the side and held her in full embrace. His lips found skin as her oversized sweater was way lower on her arm, leaving her shoulder bare.

Ernst noisily came down the stairs and came in through the door. His climb down the stairs made them break the hug.

Ernst wished, "Happy Birthday, Peter," as they sat for breakfast.

"Thank you, Dad," Peter replied.

"What do you want for your birthday? A present?" Ernst asked. Helene moved behind him in the kitchen, now on Ernst's side for this chat.

Peter replied, "I'm okay Dad. I'm 21. Besides, I already got my gift from Mom."

Ernst surprised, looked back towards Helene, and asked, "Really? Why did you tell him without me?"

Peter looked at the both of them expectantly. The looks on their faces told him that it was a rhetorical question. They both knew he wanted a car for the longest time.

Helene shrugged. Ernst dangled a key and handed it over to Peter, who made sure his surprise did not seem as fresh to his dad.

"Thank you, Dad. Awesome. I love you both," Peter said.

He eyed his mother and silently mouthed a 'thank you' to her. She, in return, glared at him for being cheeky in front of his dad.

All through the morning, Peter played with his car, checking out its features, setting up its Bluetooth connection, and then took it for a spin for nearly a hundred miles.

By afternoon, he was back home before lunch. Both Ernst and Helene were waiting for him, as he excitedly told them, "I love you guys, very very much. I just love the car. I wish I could take it with me to Berlin."

They were both pleased that he had liked his car.

They all had a wonderful lunch together. It was always a pleasure having Peter in the house. He was so energetic and lively, at the same time polite and well mannered. He brought happiness in the family, and both Ernst and Helene were glad that he was home.

Post Lunch, Peter hung around in the ground floor living room with his Dad, while Helene went up to rest for a while. They discussed a lot about his college and Berlin. Late in the afternoon, Peter caught up with his mother in the first-floor sitting room where she was reading and asked, "Should I start the fire, Mom. It's getting cold."

Helene was wearing the same oversized cashmere sweater. Her bare shoulders peeked out from the sweater's neck that was large enough for her to slip out from should she want to, and its long sleeves were floppy around her arms. The sweater reached her bums from below.

She responded, "yes, please," realizing that it was a bit colder than earlier.

It took Peter about ten minutes to adjust the fire and have it going. He joined Helene on the sofa and took the seat near her head. As she read, his hands caressed her hair and her head slowly. Loving the care he was giving her, she removed the cushion from under her head and shuffled up to take his lap, to rest her head on his thigh.

His access to her head became easier, and his hand could stroke a lot more than just her hair. He lined his caresses around her face, her cheeks, and her forehead. Lovingly, he pulled back the hair from her forehead, one strand at a time.

With his excitement growing with every passing minute, he upped the stakes and brought his other hand to her neck from her front. His right palm facing upwards cupped her face. With both his hands holding her head, he lovingly looked down towards her face. Impossible to continue reading with his arm crossing her chest to go up to her neck, her hands fell down on her sides - she looked up as he was lustily looking into her eyes.

"Can I check out my present again." He asked.

She was going to scold him for his cheekiness, but she loved him dearly. She wanted to let him have anything he wanted. They had already kissed a couple of times since morning, and another won't hurt. She reasoned it is his birthday and let a growing boy with extra hormones have his fun for a day. Surprisingly, she felt the urge to kiss him as much as he wanted to kiss her.

He lifted her head without waiting for her answer, even though it was clear her response was one hundred percent affirmative. Her lips came in contact mid-way with his, as he lowered his face into hers. His lips and tongue went to business almost instantly. He moved his tongue inside her mouth with a pace that was many notches lower than his earlier kisses. He slowed down on the hunger and relished her mouth as if he was having the time of his life. He paid great attention to her lips, started by sucking the upper lip. He went inside her mouth again only to withdraw and suck her lower lip. He entered her mouth again, to withdraw and to bite into her lower lip hard enough for his teeth to dig in but light enough to not let it rip.

He went into her mouth, sucked on her tongue, and goaded her tongue back into his mouth. Once there, her tongue did its job of investigating his mouth. They played the to-and-fro game. Their kiss became way more intense than their earlier hijinks. He had slowed his pace to woo her. With passion growing in both of them, she was warming up to the new normal of Peter kissing him.

They parted mutually, and Peter allowed her to move back on his lap, respectfully. He did not pursue, nor did he rush her. He was feeling better about it. Helene smiled back, looking up into his face with a motherly warmth and love.

She lifted the book back to read, but her mind was no more into it. She kept thinking about what she was doing, or rather what she was letting Peter do. She had reasoned it was his birthday gift, and now her reasoning had fashioned around his gift enhancing into a full day of kissing. That meant there was more to come.

Indeed there was, Peter cornered his mother at least three more times the rest of the evening, once even in the restaurant where they had gone for dinner to celebrate his birthday. The thrill of getting kissed in public by her son was too much for Helene. She flinched when he did it but did not back out at all. Ernst had begged off to go to the loo and Peter staked his claim with Helene. Of course, they paid little heed to the people in the restaurant nor did anyone bother to look at their show of mutual affection.

By the time they were back home and turned in for the day, Peter did not get any other chance to kiss his mother again. His dad was around the whole time. Ernst and Helene changed for the night and read for a little while, before sleeping. Peter had been anxious all day and by eleven in the night he was horny as hell. He lazily laid in his bed under the covers without a t-shirt. He had his pajama on him, but he was without any underwear. His hands playing with his dick as he recollected his accomplishments of the day.

Around an hour later, Helene shut her magazine as if finishing it and told Ernst, "Let me say good night to Peter and come."

She did not bother waiting for Ernst's response and was walking towards the door before he could think of something to tell her. She also did not bother picking a nightgown even while her nightie was high enough not to be worn in front of their son.

Ernst let it pass.

She entered his room after knocking lightly twice that he could barely hear. He saw her at the door. Light from the sitting room allowed him to soak in her silhouette as his room was dark. She walked slowly towards him, even as his hands withdrew from under the waistband of his pajama.

"Wanted to wish you good night," explaining her arrival, she walked the ten feet between the door and his head.

By the time she reached the bed and sat next to him on its edge, he had lifted himself from his shoulders and had arched up.

Helene said, "good night" and bent down on his face to kiss him on the forehead. He let her kiss the forehead, and as she was retreating he stopped her from the shoulders using both his hands. Peter pulled her to his lips without any charade. As he kissed her, his hands went up her neck, cupping her jaw, and held her head to his lips. His other hand roamed around her back to find a comfortable parking place. The pressure from his lips and his hands were suggestive and not forced. The couple of kisses they exchanged on the lips naturally progressed to tonguing. The light coming through the door broke the darkness in his bedroom and almost hid the desire in their eyes.

Sufficiently later, with no one giving up, he slowly started moving back on the bed, and his hands behind her clearly conveyed that she was to follow. And follow, she did. He lay on his back, and she was sitting near his hips, bent on top of him kissing with her tongue in his mouth. Her hands found support on his either side, on the mattress. He wrapped his hands behind her and pulled her on to the bed.

Their lips parted briefly as she rolled on top of him, and they did not stop turning until she was in the middle of the bed and he spun along with her and kept on facing her. She did not say anything when he took her lips again. Their kissing and necking were way needier than it was in the morning at the same location.

His lips finally got parked on her neck, and they hugged and stayed put as if struggling to go ahead. Eventually, the moment passed, and they lay face to face.

Helene said, "I should go," but made no effort at all to move.

Peter waited a long minute before realizing she was waiting for his permission, and he said, "It's a few minutes until midnight, and its still my birthday technically."

She smiled back at him, and he took it as permission to go ahead. He started kissing her again, and it was well past midnight before they stopped their session, panting for air and sweaty with lust.

When Helene returned to her room, Ernst had already dozed off. Helene woke him up sufficiently to demand sex. She ravenously took charge of the fucking that night and rode him like a woman in heat.

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The next morning, Peter met with Helene at the breakfast table. He was chirpy and upbeat. Ernst had already left for office by the time Peter came down.

Peter greeted his mother, "good morning, Mom."

"Good morning, Peter. Someone's in a good mood." Helene remarked.

"I had the best birthday ever." he stressed on 'ever', as he walked towards his Mom and took her in his arms.

He planted a hot scorching kiss on her lips. On the second kiss, he moved his hands behind her shoulders and brought them up on her back near her neck. Before he could go for a third, Helene put her hands on his chest, lightly pushing him, but not with force or disgust. She said, "Peter, mmm. I thought we had agreed it was your birthday yesterday and...."

"Yes indeed. My birthday present that I could kiss you. You can't take that back, can you?" he asked rhetorically with his twisted logic, claiming if Helene had allowed him to kiss her as a birthday present, then it was his gift to keep. He was going to kiss her all he wanted.

He came back down again on her lips, even while his mother frowned at his twisted rationale. But she loved him so much, and there wasn't anything that she could deny him. In this rare show of brattiness, he had reasoned that her mouth was his birthday gift. Still rolling it in her mind, she kissed him back.

"mmm," only lame protests came back from Helene.

Peter didn't need to respond. He just went on and played with his gift. His tongue licked her lips, and eventually found entry.

She let him have his win, for now. She decided to talk to him later and for that moment got lost in the kiss.

Their tongues playing whole-heartedly and their hands behind each other, holding each other with steady inward pressure. Peter switched pace and came out to suck her lower lip first, and then he moved back in after a long slow seduction. After many seconds he came back out and repeated the work on her upper lip before going back in.

His hands behind her wrapped completely around her waist to reel her into his body; she complied.

They were both panting by the time he was through. Helene brought her hands between them and put pressure against her will to push his chest back.

"All right, buster. Calm down." She said.

Peter's eyes were loaded with want, and it gave her shivers to think that he would desire her sexually.

"Mom," he wanted to say something but held back.

"Okay. mister. That's it. now sit down and have your breakfast." She mock reprimanded him.

Around later that afternoon, Helene was in the sitting room when Peter joined her. He had returned from showing off his car to his friend Mack. He came and informed her that he would be going out for the evening with his friends.

Peter sat next to her head as the previous day and scooted under her head on his own. As she raised her head to rest it back on his lap, he thrust one hand under her head, opening his palm. His other hand cupping her chin. She knew what was coming.

He lowered his head as their eyes looked into each others'. He gave a light kiss first and withdrew. Her eyes had closed, and he knew she wanted more, and he went to business. His lips retook possession of her lipstick laden petals. He devoured her lips as if her lipstick was edible, before entering her mouth with hunger.

She loved the fact that he knew how to kiss and woo a girl. He could be aggressive, and he could be slow; he could be loving, and he could be demanding. Importantly, she was biased because he was her son, so he anyhow could not do anything wrong from her perspective.

He kissed her for twenty minutes by which time he had covered every part of her face, eventually stopping at her lips again. When he did, they were both breathing hard.

Later that evening, he had kissed her seductively enough to work up her desire. By the time Ernst came, they had kissed four times throughout the day.

He welcomed his father back with a, "Hey Dad," and left for his evening out.

He apparently left for his friend Mack's place, but he had not gone far before he turned the car under a shade and returned walking towards their house. He sat in the far end of the garden and hooked on the camera to check if they would use the glory hole.

Fifteen minutes later, he saw his father light up the ground floor gateway room, and he was in his pajamas. Peter's camera was facing the sideboard rack, which doubled as a hidden door. When Ernst entered the room, he left the door open.

Another twenty minutes later, he exited the glory hole room and shut the door before flicking the lights off.

The entire timeline was logged, and Peter took notes of his phone.

Having got what he wanted, there was no reason for him to stay out there. He returned back soon enough but still about an hour after he had left home, and went to his room.

His mother appeared another half an hour later to wish him good night.

She sat next to him on the edge of the bed and lowered herself on his face to kiss him good night. Having kissed his forehead, it was clear he won't let her go back up. His hands grasped her head and brought it to his lips. They kissed passionately for a long while.

Like the previous day, Peter pulled his mother on top and then rolled her to the middle of the bed. They lay in each other's arms kissing and necking for almost twenty minutes. By the time both were panting and buzzing.

Eventually, Helene took control and said, "Peter, you know this can't go on."

Peter knew this was coming. He had built innumerable reasons in his head as to why it could. But he merely mumbled.

"Peter, I'll tell you what. Until you are here this holiday. I can kiss you good night, every night. But that's it." She was informing him and not merely suggesting.

Peter knew better than not to stare a gift horse in the face, but responded with a counter-bargain, "How about good morning and good night." He grinned.

She gave in, "okay, but that is it. If you pull anything else, then you are off completely."