Hypnotising His Mother Pt. 03

She could not remember how she had been before, what had brought her the most pleasure and the most lust, her mind wandering as her hand sped up to a scene where she was on all fours on the bed, her son fucking her cunt as if it was the last fuck she would ever get from anyone at all. He slammed into her in her mind's eye even as her hand sped up, jerking her cock with raw desperation, another busty woman sprawled out beneath her, taking her cock deep into her mouth while she lay on her back on the bed, throat bulging with the effort it took to swallow up such a meaty length.

"Fuck..."

Charlotte didn't know that it wasn't like her, not like that, to swear the back of her neck damp with sweat as another bead rolled down her forehead. She was hot, far too hot, and had no relief from it, bucking and grinding, tipping forward again as she hunched over herself, standing bent over without bracing on anything in the cubicle at all. She panted out loud, wanting that release, but no matter how hard she worked her hand, that pleasure seemed to linger just out of her reach, taunting her with the proximity of it and yet never quite delivering all that she wanted.

Huffing, she brushed a stray strand of hair (there were more and more of those as her pleasure grew) back behind her ear. It would not stay there for very long.

"Alright then, if you want to play it that way..."

Not to be put off with such need raging through her, lighting a trickling, steaming course of fire in her veins, she unbuttoned her shirt, breath harsh and ragged, clawing at her throat. Her shirt could be unbuttoned with a hand that, surprisingly, did not tremble, suit jacket hanging open, though it did little to air out her massively overheated body, every last fibre of her being trembling with bursting need. About to overflow and yet not able to, she caressed her breasts, sliding her hand under her purple, lace-trimmed bra, a number that always made her want to pause a moment longer and look in the mirror in the morning, admiring just how her form had lasted into late middle-age. Sure, she'd had David when she'd been on the younger side but she had matured well, her breasts supported though by the brassiere that highlighted all of her very best assets and kept the ones that she would much rather glance over neatly tucked out of the way.

Her nipples perked up against her fingers and she exhaled in a rush of breath, head rolling back even though it could not stay there. No, there was too much tension lacing her body, tension that needed some kind of release, trying and trying to get it but, alas, finding nothing. As much as her cock drooled and twitched and throbbed, there was nothing to cum from the rise and fall of pleasure, feeling as if she was just about to crest the peak of ecstasy but never quite getting there. It didn't make sense but that lack of making sense failed to register in her mind as she whimpered, humping and grinding into her hand with increasing desperation. Squeezing her breasts and even using her nails harder than usual on her nipples did not bring any release or manner of pleasure that could get her there either, panting and whimpering as she tried for something that simply was not within her realm of possibility at that time.

She didn't know that. Thus, she would keep right on trying and trying, no matter how futile it was.

The door opened but she did not freeze, her hand moving more slowly as she pressed her lips together. Who was that? Was it someone she worked with? Charlotte did not dare say anything but neither could she bear to stop as someone slipped into the adjacent stall, breaking all manner of bathroom codes, and relieved themselves. Thankfully it was short and sweet, although she could not stop her hand from pumping her length, teasing up and down, trying to remain quiet at all costs. As much as her wavering, drifting mind wanted to imagine her son and others watching her, she by no means wanted to get caught with her dick in her palm by someone at work!

They left but that just seemed to start a run of people needing the bathroom, Charlotte forced to press a hand over her lips as someone else entered the bathroom practically straight after them, taking their time as they fussed over something or the other.

Charlotte groaned under her breath, doing all she could to stifle the sound. Just what were they doing in there? Did they hang out in the bathroom all day or what? She never took that much time in the bathroom herself, preferring efficiency over all else - the primping and relaxation side of bathroom activity only came when she was home! Others didn't seem to think the same way, humming a tune to themselves as they took their sweet time about relieving themselves, rummaging through their purse at the same time.

"Oh!"

A clatter rattled through the hollow, echoing bathroom and Charlotte froze, her legs spread as much as her tight skirt would allow and facing the wrong way to be sitting on the toilet, feasibly by anyone who looked under the divider, at that moment. Yet there was not a hand but a small, black tube that rolled under the divider, marked at one end with the words, "Sunset Glow." Charlotte swore inwardly. Lipstick! Was that what the other idiot was doing in there? Why didn't she use the mirror in the bathroom and get the hell out? Didn't she have any idea just how unhygienic that was?

But what was she to do about it? What could she do about it? Bright red nails flashed as the other woman scraped and fumbled about under the divider, hardly reaching into Charlotte's stall at all as Charlotte inched away, eyes wide and her cock still hard. She hadn't stopped masturbating even though her pace had slowed, heart pounding and blood roaring dully between her ears.

"Er..."

Charlotte gulped, the pre-cum drooling over her hand. But there wasn't even any toilet roll left in the stall! How was she supposed to wipe it off?

"Oh, can you pass that back, please?" The person in the next stall said, perhaps only just then realising that they weren't alone. "That's my favourite colour."

If it was her favourite colour then she should have damn well kept hold of it, Charlotte thought to herself, mumbling something that she hoped passed for communication enough as she used the toe of her shoe to scoot the lipstick tube back under the divider. It was not the easiest thing to do but it was better than letting whoever was in there see her cum-marked hand, though she still hadn't gotten to cum as yet, breath harder and harder to glean as she sweated more than she was strictly comfortable with. Her deodorant, much to her chagrin, was not standing up to the trails of the day by any means.

"Thanks!"

That was the end of that and Charlotte was left alone once more, squatting down and balancing against the wall with one shoulder, trying out a new position. Maybe that would work, her spread legs allowing her balls to swing freely, although it was all that she could do to hold the position, thighs and calves burning, screaming for a break. Yet that release had to come, her hand working furiously, sliding more slickly over her hot length than ever. The sound ramped up tenfold in the echoing privacy of the bathroom and Charlotte grunted softly, eagerly pushing on for that high with her pussy dripping between her legs. People said that a woman could not get that wet but maybe it was a product of her having both sexes that made her cream so hard, her pussy soaked even through the very light hair on her outer folds. It splattered down to the floor between her legs almost as loudly as the sound of her masturbating, but that side of her was not destined to be teased at that time while her cock remained the main event.

Alas, even as she got close, someone else entered the bathroom at the wrong time, laughing at something that another person again had said out in the corridor before entering.

"Yeah, Dave... Wow, just Dave. I'll meet you there in a moment!"

Her heels click-clacked and Charlotte would have frowned if she was not engaged in stopping every last moan that wished to rise from her from slipping by her lips. Her make-up was smudged terribly but she could not even be glad in the moment that she didn't have a mirror to see just how bad it was, panting lightly, her hand working harder and faster, not wanting to stop. Maybe if she just kept going, while they were there, instead of stopping, she'd be able to get off and everything would be alright again? It was all she had going for her, head spinning and pounding, taking leave of her senses in the moment when they may very well have benefitted her the most. Yet there was nothing she could do, fallen prey to the whims of her lustful body, standing again with bent knees and leaning into the wall, unable to stop the whisper of a groan from pulling up from the back of her throat.

In the next stall, the occupant stilled, not even a rustle of clothing breaching the quiet. All the while, Charlotte's hand worked and worked, pumping and sliding, the sound of skin on skin horrifically loud. And yet she couldn't stop herself!

Come on...

So close, so very close, and yet so far at the same time. She hardly breathed, throat tight, yet she was ever-aware that she was so close to being rumbled, imagining that her cock was drooling cum right then and there, orgasm flowing through her even when it was not.

Please...

"Is everything okay in there?" The other person asked, hesitation routing their tone. "There's an odd noise..."

Charlotte's words locked up in her throat. What was she to do? What could she even say? There was nothing that could make think to make it right, to make it better than things already were.

And then the words came out in a rush, bubbling up in a way that she could not control, lips parting, words falling.

"I'm really close."

And then silence. Never before had any kind of silence been so terrifying to a woman who, by all means, dominated it. She was not one to be silenced but the one to silence others and relish in it, heart beating too quickly, skin hot and flushed. The words were out there but the revelation of them lost in the confusion of misinformation.

Please... Leave.

"Oh... Okay."

They didn't need to know what to make of that as they finished up with their business, clearly, though Charlotte could not have been more grateful than she was that they left, even if her climax still had not arrived. What was wrong with her that she couldn't get off, working her cock, moaning, huffing and panting, even groping her breasts like a virgin trying to get their rocks off for the first time? That wasn't like her, not like her at all, her inner thighs slick with her feminine arousal, that part of her body not failing to respond to all of it either.

But she couldn't give up, wouldn't give up, not even as she had no choice, seemingly, other than to give up, her cock sore and swollen, yet orgasm was not hers to claim. As much as Charlotte whined and slammed her palm into the wall, there was nothing she could do to get herself over that tantalising, mocking edge, what had been so easy for her before and yet was impossible with the ribbon where it was. The ribbon had not survived, so far, completely intact either, tugged a little loose but otherwise unharmed with dark patches of sweat marking it where it had pressed back up against her body and, of course, the stain of pre-cum that had nowhere else to go.

Sighing, she stayed there for a moment, her head bowed between her arms, two palms flat on the wall of the stall. Calming, breathing: that was all she had to think about as she brought herself back to reality, trying to get her cock to soften, although that too was a trial in itself that she had not been expecting to meet. Before she pulled her skirt back down, however, she paused, cupping and rolling her balls experimentally between her fingers, the orbs seeming different in some way. But what was wrong?

Her balls were definitely larger than they had been, the skin taking on a darker tint too as if there was too much blood in the area - but Charlotte was not a medical professional by any means. Swallowing hard, she inspected them closely, though the only lumps and bumps that she found were exactly what was to be expected of her testicles, the churning seed within almost seeming to vibrate beneath her fingers, her nervous system going haywire.

Skin crawling and itching with erotic need, she allowed her nuts to drop again, trying to slow her breathing, yet there was little that could do that as her cock softened only a little. Would it be enough to get her back to her desk? Who was to say?

Work called.

Maybe I should visit the doctor...

Yet there was no doctor in the world who could explain what was happening to her.