Mom's Hot Gift

Angela couldn't help feeling a deep twinge of pride as she watched her son, Owen, working the front counter of her salon. Still three months shy of his nineteenth birthday, the incredibly handsome boy charmed his mother's clientele as they came in to wait for their appointments. And the ladies who were on their way out were even doubly charmed as he flirted with them and told them all how beautiful they looked after their styling sessions. Many of them lingered longer than necessary to flirt back and soak up his attention. Even her few male customers seemed to like the personable young man.

Sometimes Angela couldn't help feeling pangs of jealousy when she saw the way some of her customers flirted shamelessly with her son. More than a few of her clients slipped their phone numbers to the boy, but his mother didn't let on to anyone that she knew about this. Least of all her son. It was also true that he was incredibly good for business. More of the ladies who came to Angela's salon were booking repeat appointments than ever before.

The boost in business came as a huge relief. This was the first time the forty year old stylist had her own salon. She had worked for years at other places, and from the time of her divorce ten years ago she had dreamed of opening her own business. She got lucky when she had an opportunity to get the whole ground floor of an old, converted factory building. It was a huge, open space with hardwood floors and a high ceiling with exposed beams. It was perfect, but it had needed a lot of work to set up for business. Luckily, Angela's father was a retired contractor who helped her with materials and years of expertise. For two months, Owen and her father worked with her to renovate the space and install everything needed for a fully equipped salon.

There was even a private room for clients who wanted waxing or massage services. The main area was open and surrounded by large windows that wrapped around the two, outer walls. Now Angela had three other stylists working out of her new shop.

The salon was located in a convenient spot just at the edge of the downtown area of their city, and walking distance from the college campus where Owen had started taking classes that fall. He worked out his schedule so he was finished with school by mid-afternoon, and then he would walk to the salon and work the reception counter for his mother where he spent as much time studying as flirting with his mother's customers.

Sometimes, in one of the large mirrors in front of the cutting stations, she would catch her son looking at her. This never failed to bring a private smile to her lips. She had worked steadily to stay in shape, and even if her tall form might be a little thicker than it used to be, she had better tone than twenty years ago and looked several years younger than her true age. She usually worked in leggings or yoga pants, which she knew Owen liked seeing her in. Sometimes she wore dresses or skirts that hugged her firm ass and showed off her toned legs. She also wore lowcut tops that showed as much of her cleavage as possible and still be socially acceptable, although she did wear a smock when working on a client.

When she wasn't working on a client, she'd take off her smock and go behind the front counter with Owen. They would greet or check out clients together, or else check the appointment calendar to make reminder calls to people who had appointments the following day. Whenever the mother and son were behind the counter together, Angela couldn't help feeling a little giddy over the way Owen's eyes devoured her voluptuous body no matter how hard he tried to hide it. In the same way, she did her best to hide everything she did to encourage his attention.

Angela was used to males of all ages staring at her tits. She had a stunning pair of beautifully rounded melons that still held a shapely, sculpted quality after a little very minor surgery a couple of years ago. She'd gone for a slight reduction procedure that ended up lifting and shaping her full orbs. Most people thought they were completely fake, but in fact they were nothing more than a slightly modified version of her original equipment.

Owen had been increasingly attentive to his mother's alluring attributes. She probably shouldn't have done so much to encourage the boy's visual exploration of her body, but she didn't see anything wrong with it. A little looking was certainly harmless enough, and for a woman who hadn't been in a relationship since her divorce it did wonders for Angela's self-esteem.

Another reason Angela liked working the counter with her son was that it discouraged her customers' shameless flirting with him. They were much less overt when his busty mother was nearby. Being slender but firmly toned, females of all ages were attracted to the tall, dark-haired eighteen year old, and it seemed as if women her age and even older were the worst of the bunch. His mother knew he had quite a collection of hand-scrawled phone numbers in the drawer of his bedside table, but she didn't know if he'd ever tried calling or texting any of them.

Owen was eighteen now and certainly had the right to call anyone he wanted, but his mother couldn't stop feeling protective. She'd been doing it all her life and wasn't about to stop now. These were simply a woman's natural maternal instincts. It wasn't the possessive jealousy of a grown woman with a schoolgirl crush no matter how many times the thought plagued her mind.

Angela always felt foolish when she found herself imagining unrealistic things concerning her son. Maybe she shouldn't have turned all of her attention toward him and doted on him and only him in the wake of her divorce. Maybe she should have started dating again and gotten involved with men her own age. Sometimes she thought of all the fun she could have been having. It would have been like her younger days before she met her husband when she was a carefree, eighteen year old party girl who loved sucking off men of all ages, from her own up to her father's age.

The maturing brunette often thought of those days with a smile. She never once thought there was anything wrong with earning the title of Blowjob Queen at the end of her senior year. It was something she loved doing, and was incredibly good at it. She'd always loved the feeling of power it gave her to have full control over a guy's pleasure and emotions all at once. She loved the way they sounded and strained not to cum to soon. As long as Angela had their throbbing cocks in her mouth, she was the one in charge.

She'd been mostly faithful to her husband, though. During their time together she had only strayed a few times when she hadn't been able to resist sucking off a couple of his friends and business associates behind his back. It wasn't as if her ex wasn't fucking around every chance he got. But after their divorce she put her full focus on her son and work. And every time she saw the way he looked and smiled at her with so much love and pride she knew there could be no sacrifice too great for him.

Angela had no regrets whatsoever, and now that she had her own business as well as her son in college and there to help her at work, she felt like everything in her life was in the right place.

The usual routine at the salon was for Owen to stay until closing time at eight. Even on Saturdays when she closed at six, he would come in and help with the final clean-up before locking the place up and driving home for dinner. She was especially glad to have her son's help in the last couple of days before the Thanksgiving break that first semester of his freshman year. Business was incredibly busy, and on the Wednesday before the holiday she ended up staying open until past nine o'clock to accommodate a rush of regular customers.

After the other stylists went home for the night, Angela locked the salon door and then flopped into the chair of her own cutting station with a loud sigh of relief. She hadn't even taken off her smock yet. It had been so busy she just wanted to give herself a couple of minutes to chill before doing the cleanup routine and going home. Foolishly, she wore medium high heels that day and her feet were killing her. She closed her eyes and started to zone out until she felt Owen's hands massaging her shoulders.

"Ohh, baby, that's fantastic," she sighed.

"You deserve it, Mom," he said. "You had a brutal day today."

"Mmm, you're so good to me, baby. But if you keep doing that I'm not going to be able to get up anytime soon."

"Just relax, Mom. Your shoulders feel so tight."

"But we've got the holiday tomorrow, sweetheart. We should get home. There's so much to do tomorrow."

"It's just gonna be us again. It's not really a holiday if you don't get to chill."

Angela sighed and let her body relax while Owen's strong fingers worked at the tense muscles in her shoulders. He did have a point, even though she enjoyed making holidays nice for him. But at the moment, he was forcing her body to relax and reminding her how long it had been since she'd had strong, male hands touching her. Her nipples buzzed with warmth and started to thicken as she melted into the chair.

"Darling, I have to admit that feels so good, especially after giving I don't know how many shampoos and cuts today. It's nice to get pampered a little bit for a change," she said.

"In that case, let's do it right," he suggested.

So after massaging her shoulders for a while longer, he got his mother to stand up and take off her smock. She suddenly wished she'd put on a bra that morning because her swollen nipples were now easily visible in her clinging, scoop-neck top. Her son took her by the hand and led her to the small row of shampooing stations.

"Owen, what are you doing?"

"Just sit down and lay your head back in the sink, Mom. I'm gonna give you a shampoo."

"That's sweet, baby, but how do you know what to do?"

"I've only seen you and the others do it a thousand times or so." He rolled his eyes.

The moment she sat and leaned her head back into the sink with the little scoop for her neck she was aware of how easily her son would be able to see down her top. It was bad enough her nipples were so swollen. Owen was always a polite, respectful boy, but he wasn't above checking out his mother's big tits in revealing tops. Being such a virile young man, Angela supposed she couldn't blame him. Maybe it was time to stop blaming herself for enjoying his attention so much.

He had the water running now, and he was waiting for the temperature to adjust, exactly the way he must have seen her do it hundreds of times. When it was ready, he patiently wet down her shoulder length hair, using the side of his hand as a barrier to keep the spray from running anywhere but into her hair.

"I guess you learned a lot from watching Mommy, didn't you, baby?"

"Maybe," he said coyly. "You always say I should keep an eye on things. That means you, too."

His mother could hear the smile in his tone, but as he started work the lather into her hair and massage her scalp with his strong fingers, she could feel her whole body tingle. She was impressed with how calm and patient he was, even if she suspected he might be stalling just to take advantage of the view he now had down her top. Her bust had been covered most of the day by her smock, but now her large orbs were straining at the well stretched fabric and her nipples were impossibly hard. With Owen's fingers going all over her lathery head there was no way to avoid her body's natural response.

Angela nearly giggled aloud when she thought of how at least half of her customers would have loved being in the position she was in now. She told herself Owen was hers and she didn't have to share him with anyone else. Somehow, the thought of her flirting clients only made her feel a naughty sense of possessiveness. She didn't bother thinking about the day her son would end up bringing home a serious girlfriend. She didn't want to think about that. At least for now she could let her mind wander into sweet daydreams that were only for her to enjoy.

"I always thought you had really beautiful hair, Mom," her son told her out of the blue.

"Baby, that's so sweet. You're spoiling me so much."

"You deserve it. You're the best mom ever."

Owen finally rinsed out the shampoo suds and started to work conditioner into his smiling mother's hair. Angela's eyes were closed and she boldly arched her back with a yummy sigh, pushing her prominent boobs up and forcing more of her bulging tit flesh out of her top. Her son's hands stopped moving while her body was arched up and she knew he was helping himself to a good, long look. But there was no harm in looking, and if anyone deserved it it was Owen. From the way his hands felt on her scalp, she could only imagine the way they'd feel kneading her full, sensitive tits. The warm, quivery feeling in her pussy was delightful, even though she knew it would only end up driving her crazy with frustration.

Her son finally rinsed out the conditioner. He wrapped a dry towel around her head and shoulders and she sat up. He then led her back to the chair at her cutting station and proceeded to blow dry her hair. He worked her hair with a brush at the same time, trying to recreate what she did with it herself. He wasn't quite as good at this part, but his mother was giving her devoted boy an A for effort. With the large, free standing mirror in front of them, she watched him focus on his task. She also caught him looking at her tits in the mirror.

When Owen finished, Angela was ready to get up and leave the shop for the night, but he told her he wasn't finished pampering her. He grabbed a low stool and took a seat between the chair his mother was sitting in and the mirror. Then he picked up her right foot and took off her shoe. Balancing her foot on the top of his leg, he started massaging her foot. His fingers were firm but careful, and his mother moaned as she felt her entire body relax.

"Ohhhh, Owen, baby," she sighed. "That's wonderful."

"Just relax and enjoy it, Mom," he said. "This is your holiday reward."

"What did I ever do to deserve this?" she asked.

"Just being awesome," he said.

The pleasure of her son's strong thumbs pressing into all the pressure points in her foot had Angela melting in her seat. She let her thighs drift apart further than she should have, but she hadn't had a foot massage since forever. It felt too good to be concerned about the fact that her son could probably now see the faint outline of her panties through the thin material of her yoga pants. His hands felt so strong and confident in their task. Just being touched affectionately by large, male hands was enough to make her body tingle, but it felt like her son was hitting every pleasure nerve in her body as he worked on her foot.

Angela could barely move and her thighs drifted open even further. Her pussy was aching with an uncontrollable response, but Owen's hands had her under his control. There was a moist heat swarming through her pussy now. She couldn't help the feeling and gave up on whatever will she had left to fight it. The deeper and harder her son massaged her foot the worse it got.

He must have spent a good twenty minutes or more on the right foot before he switched over to the left and began massaging that one. Angela felt her thighs opening even wider and there was nothing she could do about it. Her son was making her feel too weak and relaxed to move. Part of her felt shamed and embarrassed that her damp camel toe was boldly displayed in front of her son, but another, bigger part of her was even more aroused. Yet she found herself hoping against hope that he'd be able to smell the heady scent of his mother's pleasure. That would be too much, and yet his face was barely a couple of feet away from her pussy.

When she looked in the mirror and saw herself with her legs open and Owen sitting between them, it almost looked like her son was eating her pussy, except that she was still wearing her yoga pants. The lewd suggestion gave her a rush of troubling sensations, and yet she couldn't take her eyes off the mirror. She couldn't keep from uttering a soft gasp of surprise.

"Feel good, Mom?" her son asked.

"Oh yes, baby. It feels so good," she purred, shocked at herself for sounding like a young coed with starry eyes for the big man on campus.

Angela kept staring at the mirror, seeing her son from behind with his head between her wide open legs. By the time he finished massaging her left foot, her mind was numb and her pussy was leaking so much honey she couldn't bear to look and see if there was a wet spot on the crotch of her leggings. If there was, Owen would surely have seen it, and there was nothing that could be done about it now.

He finally set her foot down and looked up at her. "There," he said. "All set. Shall we go home now?"

"After that I don't know if I can move," she said.

"I hope that means it felt good."

"It was amazing, baby," she sighed, finally sitting up and pulling her legs closed. "But it's really getting late and I certainly don't want to fall asleep in this awful chair."

As much as she hated to, Angela slipped her feet back in her shoes while Owen got their jackets. When he came back with them, she noticed the enormously prominent bulge in his pants. He wasn't even trying to hide it and he just smiled when he caught his mother looking at it. After that, she didn't feel so embarrassed about the prospect of her son seeing a wet spot in her leggings. It was the last thing she was about to mention, but at least she felt like they were on more even footing now.

Angela was glad when Owen got in on the driver's side and let her relax on the ride home. They got to the house later than usual, and she was still feeling the dreamy effects of her foot massage. Consequently, dinner was quick and simple. Then she went into the living room and lay down on the wide, sectional sofa to watch TV. Owen went upstairs to change, but he came down to join her in a T shirt and a pair of snug fitting boxer briefs. It was what he usually slept in, and often walked around the house that way.

Instead of moving to one end the way she usually did, Angela just patted the space in front of her and invited him to lie down along with her. She arranged herself on her side up against the back of the couch, giving Owen room to lie down next to her along the outer edge. It wasn't unusual for them to lounge on the sofa with their feet or head in the other's lap, but this was the first time they'd fully cuddled since Owen was much smaller. He got his arm around her shoulders while she rested her face on his chest, resting her hand on the outer side of his waist.

Owen grabbed the remote off the coffee table and started playing a movie from their favorite streaming service. After a while, Angela let her leg bend forward and rest across her son's thighs. She was completely aware of the pressure of his large tits squashing against his side. The effects of his massage were still strong enough to keep her in a relaxed state, but the warm ache in her pussy was just as persistent.

It was amazing to her that her son could make her feel this way without even meaning to. It wasn't something she could allow again. It was thrilling but dangerous to tease themselves that way. She couldn't deny that she also felt so proud of him. It hardly even seemed possible to love anyone as much as she loved Owen, but she loved him more than life itself and she never felt it so deeply as at that moment on the couch as they clung to each other. Angela squeezed his solid body tighter.

"I love you, baby," she told him softly. Then she kissed him on the side of his face, taking the chance to place her lips just at the corner of his mouth.

"I love you, too, Mom," he replied. He turned his head to her and kissed her back on the lips. It was brief, but a striking change from the much more careful way they had always kissed each other on the cheek or forehead - the way most mothers and sons would kiss.