Graduation Present

She straddled me again and began kissing me, her hands in my hair, my naked cock just inches from her pussy. My cock needed time to recover, but the animal within me wanted to be hard again now.

"I waited too long to see that, to taste that. Why did you hide it from me?" She said.

"I don't remember making the rule about pants," I said.

"Yeah," she said between kisses. "Stupid rule. The new one is a little better."

Whenever I needed her attention, I would hold her by her shoulders. When my hands moved to her shoulders, she pouted. "Now what?" She said.

I pulled a few locks from her face and stroked her hair. I said softly, "You've been out of sorts for weeks and wouldn't talk to me. I was worried and didn't know what to do."

She kissed me and said, "I'm sorry. I was angry, but not at you. You are the man I want but can't have. I got frustrated and wanted a distraction, but thinking of you made me hornier. I was embarrassed. You seem to handle all this better than me, and it's humiliating."

I embraced her, then laid back so she was atop me. "Scoot around," I said, and we centered ourselves on my bed.

"This is nice," she said, "though it would be better if I were naked, too." She gave a small chuckle and kissed me. Then she got serious. "How is it you're so mature with all this going on? I mean, your hormones have to be going crazy, too. Why do you seem so in control?"

I stroked her cheek and said, "Yes, I want to fuck you. I want you naked and under me all night. But I would rather die than disappoint you. You've just begun your Ph.D. program, and I don't want anything to interfere. This relationship makes sense to us, but no one else would understand. I want these limits to protect you. I will always protect you. I love you."

Tears filled her eyes, and she slid down enough to lay her head on my chest. Her body was warm, and her breasts pressed into my stomach. I gently stroked her back until she fell asleep.

Chapter 7: The Gift

Christmas season marked the end of the term and the start of break. There was an end-of-the-year Saturday night gathering at our house for the grad students, followed by a very welcome quiet about the place. It would be just the two of us for the next few weeks.

Mom and I aren't big on Christmas gifts, and we both tend to buy what we want when we want it. This year was different. I bought mom a new backpack she had been eyeing, running shoes, hiking boots, and trekking poles. She bought me a new laptop that I had been unable to justify to myself. The last gift was to both of us, but I was to open it.

Inside the package was a collection of items for shaving "delicate areas." There were creams, razors, electric trimmers, and more.

"I can't help but believe this comes with a story," I said.

She sat close to me, kissed me on the cheek, and said, "That's not the gift. The gift is: I will shave your private areas, cock, and balls, and you'll shave me."

I grinned. "This is going to tempt us to break the at least one pair of pants rule," I said.

That small, evil smile she sometimes flashed made an appearance. "I'm willing to suspend the rule for this if you are."

"I am all in," I said.

"I wish!" She said. "We'll start after lunch in the master bath. Come naked."

I tried not to have a hard-on when I entered the bath, but the excitement was too much. Then I saw mom spreading towels on the floor and running warm water in the tub. Oh, yes, I was hard. She placed a stool in the middle of the towels and directed me to sit.

"You're first," she said with a glint in her eye.

She began with the electric trimmer, cleaning the area above my cock and my inner legs. I expected a remark about my dick pointing straight up, but she gently lowered it when she reached that area. Hairs grew out of my cock, especially near the base, and she snipped each of those in turn. When my cock was smooth, she wrapped her hand around it and sucked it for a time.

"Almost done," she said. "Only the boys are left."

I held my breath for this. I trusted her with my life, but a million years of instinct told me to protect my balls. Still, she was gentle as a breeze, and my ball sack had no nicks. As a reward for staying so still, she sucked my cock some more. She stopped and winked when my eyes were about to roll into my head. Teasing was part of the game.

The shaving cream and razor came next. She was slow and deliberate, using a towel to clear the area after the razor's pass.

"When did you learn to do this?" I asked. My cock bounced with every breath.

She looked at me and sheepishly admitted, "Um, I've never done this. I've always wanted to, at least to myself." When my eyebrows raised, she continued. "I'm being careful!"

I nodded. "I trust you." That was all she needed to hear.

When she finished the front, she said, "Turn around and spread your cheeks."

"Excuse me!"

"Go on!" She said. "I'm going to shave your taint and, maybe, a little more."

I sighed. "In for a Penny," I said, then winked. I turned around, leaned my chest on the stool, and used my hands to spread my ass cheeks. My cock was still bobbing.

The electric trimmer came out again, and she was finished. I stood up and glanced at the towels on the floor. "Wow," I said. "That all came off me?"

She put her hands on her hips and said, "I'll thank you for not making that remark about my hair. Thank you very much!"

"Right," I said. "Now you."

"Not before we take care of this," she said. She pulled a bottle of lube from the pile, applied some to her hand, then began jacking me. When I looked ready to pop, she sunk her mouth onto my cock, and I grunted with delight.

"My turn," she said. She seated herself on the stool, spreading her legs.

I kneeled in front of her and surveyed the area.

"Need a good look?" She said. Her hand when to her pussy and spread her lips. I could see her clit and her entrance.

"I looked up to make eye contact, then leaned in and licked from the bottom of her pussy lips to the top, taking a moment to suck on her clit. Her legs snapped shut on my head.

"Sorry! Sorry!" She said. "I'm sensitive."

"And worked up," I said. "Eating your pussy is going to be fun."

She whimpered hearing that. I just smiled.

"I'm going to go slow," I said, "but if you have advice, tell me."

"I've not shaved in a while," she said. "It's a mess and embarrassing."

I kissed her inner thigh and said, "You are so beautiful. I've never seen you naked, and you're a goddess. I love you so much."

I took the same path that mom took with me. Starting above the genitals, clearing the inner thighs, then running the razor carefully around the area to make things smooth. I told her to stand up, turn around, and spread. She did, but she was shaking so badly I dared not bring anything sharp near her.

"You think I'll stick my face in your pussy and lick it, right? Thinking I'll finger fuck you while you're bent over. Is that why you're shaking?"

"Yes," she whispered. "I've nearly cum already."

I gently slapped an ass cheek.

"OH!" She cried.

"I'm going to finish this, and then, after a quick soak, I'm going to take you to your bed and make you sit on my face. I'm going to eat you and lick you and finger fuck you until you can't take it."

"Oh, god," she said. Then she hung her head and steadied herself.

I cleaned up the taint, just as she had, then put the trimmer back on the towel.

"Have a seat in the tub," I said. She entered the water and lowered herself. I saw her rub the shaved area and cautioned her, "No finger fucking yourself. That's my job."

I sank into the tub opposite her, leaned my head back, and closed my eyes.

The shaved skin was a little irritated but still felt good and clean. I felt a foot touch my junk, and mom smiled when I opened my eyes.

"Do you like it?" She asked.

"I don't think I mind it on me," I said, "but it looks fantastic on you!"

"Mmm," she cooed. She leaned back, closed her eyes, and said, "Merry Christmas."

"Best Christmas ever," I said.

She reached out with her hand, and I held it, both of us with our heads back, eyes closed, enjoying the warm water. Why hadn't we done this before? Ah, it would have violated the pants rule—stupid rules.

After a time, she squeezed my hand. I looked at her, and she angled her head to the bedroom. We stood, took a towel from the pile, and dried ourselves. My junk felt weird without the hair. When she put her towel down, I turned her to me and kissed her, our naked bodies merging, her breasts pressed against my ribs, and her hand on my ass. When the kissing stopped, she took me by the hand and led me to her bed.

I wasn't in a hurry. She was no teenage girl who might change her mind if given enough time to reflect. She knew what she wanted, and we had all the time in the world. Before lying on my back, I whispered in her ear, "You promised me some face time."

She slugged me lightly on the arm and giggled. "You say I'm funny, but you're the one that makes me laugh."

"Well, I know what I need," I said, getting comfortable.

She got on the bed and straddled me. For a moment, I feared she would reach back, find my cock, and impale herself on it. Another part of me wished she would. Instead, she bent down, dangled those magnificent tits before me, and kissed me. My hands reached behind her and stroked her ass, drawing her forward. Her headboard was solid, designed for this kind of duty, and she went for it with both hands, dragged her tits across my face, giggled, slid forward, and dropped her pussy on my nose.

It was heaven. She was wet, and her scent filled my senses. I licked from the bottom of her pussy to the top, dragging my nose through the slot, kneading her ass with my hands, and sucking on her clit when it passed. She was moving, grinding herself on me, painting my face with her juices, and moaning. I tried to fuck her hole with my tongue, suck her clit like a nipple, and kiss her inner thigh when I needed to breathe. My cock was rock-hard, and it needed attention, but I wanted her to keep riding my face until she came and came again.

She lifted off my face, and I guessed what she wanted. I moved a hand to her hole and began finger fucking her. Her pace increased, and she got louder. I tried to move my finger to find her G-spot, and just as I was about to give up, she tensed and began shouting. "There! There! There!" She screamed. "Oh, my fucking god!"

Her movements became irregular, spastic, and violent. I withdrew my fingers, fearing I might hurt her if I continued. Instead, I pushed my face back into her pussy and began licking franticly. "Oh, shit!" She yelled and ultimately pushed herself off me, sliding down and falling atop me.

I was drenched, pussy juice sticky, musky, and delicious, covering my face, neck, and hair. I reached for her ass, but she slapped my hand away. "No," she said in what sounded like a panic, "too sensitive." Then she pulled herself up and found my eyes. "What you do to me!" She said.

I thought that would lead to a conversation, but instead, she rested her head on me again and fell asleep right there, naked, on top of me. She was out. After a time, I began to worry, and I was about to move when she spoke. "Oh my god, you fucked me into unconsciousness."

I chuckled. "Don't be such a drama queen. You fell asleep. You're exhausted."

"Maybe it's because you're so damn comfortable," she said, and she slipped off me, put her head on my shoulder, and ran her fingers up and down my cock. It was still hard, and I'd still gotten no relief, but our session could have ended there, and I would have been elated. Her fingers now encircled my shaft, and she slowly stroked it.

She said, "This is a first for you but also a first for me. I've never had my pussy eaten. Your father thought the idea was disgusting, though he liked to cum buckets during blow jobs. Selfish prick."

She reached to touch my face, and her eyes went wide. "Oh my god!" She said. "You're soaked!" Then she started giggling. "I think you got me excited!"

Before I could react, she was off the bed and preparing a warm washcloth in the bathroom. She wiped my face, neck, and even the bit that pooled near my ears, kissing me as she moved. I wanted to speak but couldn't find the words. I was happy, blissful, and content.

She snuggled with me again and said, "You're still hard. Are you sure you don't want to fuck me?"

For an instant, I did want to fuck her. I wanted to flip her on her back and bury my cock in her, banging my balls on her ass. I wanted to hold her down, bring my face close to hers, and growl while I pumped her full of sperm. But we can't, and I won't take a chance on hurting her.

"I'm hard, but we're not ready to fuck, are we?" I asked this in a whisper, unsure what kind of answer I hoped for.

"No," she said. "You're right. I'll make you a deal. If I take care of that," and she eyed my hard cock, "will you sleep with me, cuddle and hold me?"

I kissed her. "I love you," I said.

Chapter 8: A Question of Happiness

My high school graduation neared as Spring flowers appeared. Mom was finishing the second year of her Ph.D. program, and she'd done well in her seminars and classes. She'd also found several dissertation topics that might be worthy of research. It only took a few good orgasms and good nights' sleep for her concentration to return. Self-care is important.

Shaving and time in the tub became a monthly ritual, and I especially loved the soak in the tub. On Sunday mornings, she would close the curtains, light candles, pour wine, and bask in the water's warmth, sometimes reading, sometimes talking, but always touching: her toes playing with my balls or just holding hands. And like that first time, when we toweled off, we would slip into her bed, and we would cum until we fell asleep in each other's arms.

She asked me what I wanted for my high school graduation. I knew what I wanted but had trouble finding the words.

"You can choose anything within reason," she said. "Maybe you want your own place, and we could buy another house in town."

"No, no," I said. "I'm going to the university here with you. I don't want a different place, and I'm comfortable here."

"Maybe a new car?" She said. "Something sexy?"

I laughed. "You know I'm happy with my car. And I'd like to think I'm not so shallow that I have to drive around and show off like a peacock."

And so the conversation continued. She meant well, and I assured her I would answer her question when the time came.

The graduation ceremony was held in the afternoon, and afterward, we had an intimate dinner at a lovely restaurant. Our lives seemed perfect. Her studies were going well, and she was enjoying the work. Our house was comfortable and perfect for the two of us. And now, I was free of the silly constraints of high school and ready to begin my college years.

Mom was gorgeous. She wore one of her little black dresses, elegant, stylish, and a perfect contrast to her blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. Her décolletage was enough to garner the attention of the men seated near us and infuriate their wives. She was radiant.

We stood in the kitchen when we arrived home as she poured wine and offered a toast. "To the graduate," she said. After a sip, she placed her glass on the table, and I did the same. She walked to me, held me close, and slow danced with me. We needed no orchestra, no music, just each other. She kissed my neck as we swayed, ran her hands along my spine through my suit coat, and whispered, "I love you."

I kissed her, and she melted into my arms.

"I have never been happier," I said. "You have given me so much. Thank you."

She kissed me. "I think the formalwear part of our program has concluded." Then she giggled. "Let's change into something more comfortable."

I returned to the living room wearing jeans and a T-shirt to find she had made the same choices. I sat next to her on the couch and kissed her.

"To business," she said. "Time to tell me what you want for graduation."

I looked down. This had been a perfect day, and I didn't want to ruin it.

"Out with it," she said.

"OK," I said. "I don't know how to say this, but I'll try. Forgive me if I tangle it up."

She nodded.

"I want you," I said. "I want all of you. I want to make you mine, love you, and be yours."

She smiled, and a tear appeared.

"But this is the most important part: I need you to be selfish when you decide. I want you to think only of yourself, your happiness, and what you want. Forget about me. I want you to want me because you're selfish. I want you to want me because I'm what you need to be happy. Because to hell with everything, this is what you want."

She looked confused. "But what do you want?"

"I want you to think only of yourself for a moment. You're always thinking about what's good for others and me and what your professors want from you. I want you to be completely selfish and think only about what you want and need. I said I want you. Please don't agree to make me happy. Demand happiness for yourself. Choose based on what you want, what you need."

She began to cry, and my heart sank. I've ruined everything.

After a minute of seeing her sobbing, her head in her hands, and gasping for breath, I reached for her and touched her shoulder.

"I'm sorry," I said.

"Don't you dare apologize," was her reply, muffled by her hands.

She lifted her head and looked at me, still in tears. "Your father never loved me."

I shook my head. "I—I don't understand."

She began crying harder, and I was paralyzed, frozen because I had no idea how to help.

She pulled herself together and spoke in a low whisper. "Your father never cared about my happiness. Now that I know love and understand true love, I can see that."

I shook my head, still confused.

She finally looked up and into my eyes. "You want me to be happy, even at the expense of your happiness. You want me to be selfish, to think only of my happiness, even if it means I end this, ask you to leave, and return to a mother-son relationship. Am I right?"

I swallowed hard. That was precisely what I meant, but I couldn't form the words. I closed my eyes and nodded. "Yes," I said. "This has to be what you want, what will make you happy. That's the most important thing. It can't be because you want to give me something. You've been giving your whole life. It has to be what you want and selfishly need to be happy."

She moved to wrap her arms around me and began crying again on my shoulder. I slipped an arm around her back and held her, whispering, "I love you."

She pushed herself away and sat up straight, wiping her eyes.

"Yes," she said.

"Yes, what?" I replied.

"I can be selfish," she said. "You are offering me everything, even your happiness, if I so choose, just so I'm happy. Looking back, I didn't know your father didn't love me because I didn't know what love was. Now I know, now I see it. You care more about my happiness than your own."

I could only nod.

"Yes," she said.

"I am not keeping up today," I said, shaking my head.

She chuckled and reached for my hand. "You are such an idiot," she said.

I smiled and said, "Probably."

"Thank you. You've made this easy," she said. "I love you. I want you because having you with me, as a lover and partner, will make me happy. It's selfish because your life will be harder with me. We'll need to hide our relationship. There can be no children; even our closest friends mustn't know. It's unfair to ask for this, but I will ask selfishly because I want you."

Then she kissed me tenderly, gently, like a promise. When the kiss broke, she smiled and touched my face.

"You want me for your graduation gift," she said. "I want you forever."

I grinned stupidly, not knowing what to say.