Mom's My "Someone Special" Pt. 01

My mother and I lay motionless and silent. Enough time passed for our breathing to regulate. I wanted to say something to her, but could think of nothing. I wondered where we'd go from here and if I'd taken things too far. Mom slid off the couch and got to her feet. "I think I'm gonna call it a night." She stretched her back with a yawn. "I've gotta go to work tomorrow. See you in the morning." She walked off.

Her nonchalant behaviour made me wonder if I'd imagined what took place before she stood up. I knew this wasn't the case, though, as I looked over the arm of the couch and saw my cum slowly sliding down her legs. It caused my insides to tremble.

Chapter Five: The Inadvertent Coax

The alarm on my phone went off extra early the next morning. I'd set it to do this because today wasn't any old day, it was a special day; my mom's birthday and she was officially forty-three. I switched off the alarm, rolled out of bed and headed to my bathroom to take a quick shower. When I got back to my room I got into my school uniform then headed to the kitchen, where I entered the pantry and came out with flour, oil and baking power. I also collected sugar, salt, milk, and eggs.

I planned on making Mom her favourite breakfast meal - pancakes. I thought she'd love this as her first treat of the day, because I normally never cooked for her. This wasn't because I didn't want to or was too lazy. It's because, in all honesty, my cooking sucks. I remember the time I tried making us lasagne. My sister coldheartedly compared it to "vomit". But even though I was no Gordon Ramsay, I could whip up a mean batch of pancakes.

I heard Mom turning her shower on as I mixed the batter in a bowl. This didn't cause me to think I needed to rush, though. It's no secret women like taking their time to get ready, and my mother was no exception. I finished making the last two pancakes a few minutes before she walked into the kitchen. She had her hair tied in a bun, wore a dark red blouse, a black jacket, black skirt, black stockings and black shoes. I'd always found a woman dressed in formal attire to be sexy, but Mom seemed to look even more alluring than usual. It was probably because of what took place the night before.

"Happy birthday, Mom." I spread my arms as I approached her.

"Awww, thank you, sweetie." She smiled from ear to ear. I gave her a kiss on the cheek, which I topped off with a hug she purred to. "And you made me pancakes. Awww, what a sweet birthday present."

"And this is just your first one. You'll get the other when you get back from work."

She smiled again. "I can't wait."

Once Mom and I got into our seats we poured our drinks and dug into the pancakes. But the cheerful mood was soon broken. As a look of suddenly-remembering-something came across Mom's face, she slowly placed her fork and knife on her plate. "Honey, we need to talk about what happened last night."

I took a deep breath and exhaled. The inflection she used told me where this was going. "Okay."

"I'm really sorry about-"

"No...Mom, I'm the one who should be sorry. I shouldn't have done what I did."

She thought for a moment. "Be that as it may, I was the parent in the whole situation and should've put a stop to things...I really don't know what got into me." The look of disappointment in her eyes was heart breaking.

After sitting through a lengthy moment of silence I asked, "So what do we do now?"

"Nothing." She shook her head. "We'll just carry on like normal and pretend as if last night never happened. Oh yea and, Chris, what happened at the front door...and on the couch last night can never happen again. Okay?" Her eyebrows rose gently.

A part of me was dying to put up an argument, but I decided against it. I didn't want to pressure Mom into doing anything she was uncomfortable with, especially if it would bring back that look I saw in her eyes moments earlier. "Okay." I nodded.

*

My day at school was hardly different from the rest. I learned, joked with my circle and was dropped off at home by JP, who lived down the street. The only difference was I was a little more distracted in class than usual. I couldn't get the images of the previous night out of my head. The feeling I got from kissing Mom resurfaced each time I thought about our two minutes on the porch. The smell of her perfume and pineapple scented hair taunted me from afar.

Don't even get me started on the feeling of her breast in my palm and body against mine on the couch. I got my ass chewed off by Mrs. Coetzee - to the delight of Dean - after she asked me to answer a question I didn't hear. I was too busy daydreaming about that moment on the couch. It was painful to know I'd never experience those feelings again. But even though I felt like moping for the rest of the day, I knew that wasn't an option. It was still Mom's birthday and I wanted to make sure she enjoyed it.

Since Lidia only came in twice a week to clean the house, and it wasn't one of those days, the first thing I did when I got home was get out of my school uniform. Then I placed the dishes in the dishwasher, mopped the floors, vacuumed the carpets, cleaned the appliances, wiped down all the countertops, emptied the trashcans, polished off the furniture, and collected all our dirty clothes before tossing them into the washing machine. It was one hell of a job, but I managed to get it done and felt Mom didn't deserve to lift a finger.

I made a sandwich not too long after and poured myself a glass of orange juice. Then I headed to my bedroom to browse the internet while I ate. I followed this up with an hour or so of studying. About a week earlier Mom told me she didn't want to celebrate her birthday with a party of any kind, so there'd be no friends or family coming over. But I had something else in mind. I picked up my phone and noticed it was ten past five. Mom normally got home around half past six. I better get started.

I got up and headed to the kitchen, where I pulled the takeout menu off the fridge and ordered two helpings of stir-fry chicken noodles. Then I went into the dining room and laid a silk white tablecloth over our oval shaped table. I placed two short thick round candles in the centre and a thin vase in between them. I wanted to go into our garden to get a flower for the vase, but because it was still winter I had to settle for the fake rose I gave Mom on Valentine's Day.

I finished setting up the table by putting down two eating mats, two wineglasses, cutlery and a bottle of wine. Then I took a step back and inspected the job I'd done. I thought the table looked pretty good. I came up with this whole idea the night before. It was actually supposed to be a second practice date, but I thought it would work just as well as just another birthday treat. Once I dimmed the lights - an idea I got from the restaurant we went to the night before - I went back to my room, got out of my clothes and threw on a white t-shirt, blue jeans, a black blazer and black shoes.

I then reached into my closet and pulled out Mom's gift, which was wrapped in silver gift wrapping paper. I bought it about three weeks earlier and used my own money to get it. I haven't mentioned this, but I had a part time job of doing promotions on weekends and public holidays. I also pulled a bandana out of the closet, placed it into my pocket and then headed to the dining room to place Mom's gift on the table.

The intercom went off as I watched TV in the living room. It turned out to be the deliveryman. I was thankful he arrived before Mom. I placed the food in the microwave, went back into the living room and watched TV for a little while longer as I waited for Mom to return from work. When I heard her car pull into the driveway I hopped off the couch and ran to the dining room to light the candles. Then I headed to the front door to lie in wait. She opened it in a couple of minutes, carrying a white box, and got spooked when she saw me.

"Jeez!" She placed a hand on her chest. "Chris...you nearly gave me a heart attack. Why the hell are you standing here?"

I couldn't stop myself from chuckling. "Sorry. You'll see." I reached into my pocket and pulled out the bandana. Then I got behind her and placed it over her eyes.

"Chris, what're you doing?" She squirmed.

"Trust me," I said, causing her to relax. Once I fastened the bandana I took the white box out of her hand.

"It's half a cake. My co-workers bought it for me."

"Oh okay. I'll put it in the kitchen. Don't move."

On my return, I got behind Mom, placed my hands on her shoulders and led her to the dining room, where I pulled out her chair. Once I removed her handbag and placed it on the table, I told her I'd be right back and not to remove her blindfold. I then headed back to the kitchen, poured the noodles into two plates, grabbed the soy sauce sachets and chop sticks, and then headed back to the dining room.

"Mmmmm, I smell Chinese food." Her shoulders alternated in moving up and down. "My favourite."

"I know." I smiled as I set the plates down. Then I got behind her and removed the blindfold with a, "Voilà."

"Oh wow! Chris," she beamed as she faced me, "this looks beautiful, honey. And the house looks so clean." She looked around the room. "Awww, thank you, sweetie. You've officially made my day."

I remember feeling good as I walked around the table to get into my chair. With the use of puppy dog eyes, Mom asked for permission to open her gift before we ate our food. How could I say no? She shook with excitement as she pulled her gift in and unwrapped it.

"Awww, it's that handbag I wanted to get...when was it?"

I still remember the disappointed look on her face when she checked its price tag a few months earlier. I made a metal note to go back and get it for her as a birthday present. It cost me two arms and a leg, but with the money I made from my promotions, coupled with some lunch money, I managed to scrape up just enough money to get it.

"Thank you so much, sweetie. I really appreciate this."

"No problem, Mom." I poured some wine into our glasses. "So, how was your day?"

She told me all about it as we ate our food. She received a couple of unexpected birthday gifts. She got a text message or phone call from almost everybody she knew. Her colleagues sang her the Happy Birthday song. And even Kirsten called to pass her wishes, which I found surprising, since they hardly ever spoke to one another. Mom also tried to teach me how to use chopsticks again. This was something we went through each time we ate Chinese food, and staying true to tradition I eventually gave up and picked up my fork.

"The only depressing part of my day is knowing I'm yet another year older."

I mulled as I stuck a fork into a slice of the cake her co-workers bought. I couldn't resist. "Yea, but you don't look a day over thirty."

She smiled. "So, are you looking forward to your date with Rochelle tomorrow night?"

"...Yea." I shrugged.

Her face scrunched slightly. "What's with the pause?"

"...Uh, I was just giving it some thought."

She gave me a strange look and then shrugged. "Okay then." She stood and reached for her plate.

"No, Mom...I'll clean up. You just go to your room, run yourself a hot bath and enjoy the rest of your night."

She smiled again. "Okay. I'll just take this, this and this." She picked up her glass, the wine bottle, and her gift. "Bring my old handbag into my room when you come and say goodnight."

"'Kay."

Mom headed off to her bedroom while I finished my slice of cake. I then blew out the candles, cleared the table and took the dishes to the kitchen. After which I closed the windows, turned off the lights and headed back to the dining room to pick up Mom's handbag. When I got to her bedroom I discovered she wasn't there. I figured she must already be in her bathroom. I set her handbag on her bed and said, "Night, Mom."

"Chris, honey...come in here."

I didn't notice it when I first walked into the room, but her bathroom door was open. I walked to it and stepped inside. I expected to find Mom in her work clothes, or in a robe or towel, but she was already in the bathtub. I couldn't see anything a woman would normally hide, though. There were bubbles in the tub as well. I could only see her from her shoulders to her hair, which was still in a bun.

"What's up?"

Mom took a sip from her glass and placed it down. "Don't you wanna climb into the tub with me?"

I hesitated then said, "Is that a trick question?"

She laughed. "No, silly. I just wanna spend a little more time with you before you lock yourself in your room. Don't worry. I'm in my bathing suit."

"Ah, okay." I shrugged then stripped out of my clothes, but decided to leave my underwear on. As I placed a foot into the tub Mom suggested I should sit in front of her. I felt no need to argue. As I leaned back and rested my back on the front of her torso, my body reacted as if I received a small electric shock, as I immediately felt her nipples poking into my upper back and pubic hair against the lower section. "I thought you said you were in a bathing suit."

Mom lifted her glass and took a sip before placing it down. "I lied."

I had no idea how to reply to that. Why did you lie? Was the only response that came to mind. I decided to keep my mouth shut. So what if she was naked? I liked the sensation - especially the ticklish feeling of her mons against the small of my back. The only problem was it caused the immediate rise of my cock. Good thing there were bubbles in the tub, otherwise she might've noticed. I closed my eyes and relaxed as she ran her hand up and down my chest. We sat in silence for a little while. Then I heard Mom whisper into my ear:

"Chris."

"Mm-hmm."

"Don't read too much into this."

Before I could asked what she meant I felt her hand slide down my chest and stomach, which caused my eyes to fly open. Then her hand pressed down on my stomach and finger tips slid underneath the waistband of my boxer briefs. I sat as if someone was painting a picture of me. Mom's hand slid lower then took a firm hold of my erection, causing my eyes to reclose as my mouth dropped open. Then she slowly worked her hand up and down the length of my cock.

I was shocked she was doing this. After our conversation at breakfast, I thought nothing sexual would ever happen between us again. But I wasn't about to bring that up. Nope. I was just gonna sit back and enjoy the ride. Twisting her hand from side to side Mom firmly massaged my cock for a glorious couple of minutes, causing me to moan and groan. Then, to my utter disappointment, I felt her hand withdraw from my underwear. My eyes opened as I made a face. What is she doing?!

I watched her reach for and grab her bar of soap. She dipped her hand back into the water and after a little while, it found its way back into my boxer briefs. She retook a hold of my shaft and continued to stroke it. I could instantly tell why she'd lathered her palm. It made her strokes much more fluent and amplified the softness of her touch. God, I loved her brain. I closed my eyes once more and relished in the feeling of my cock in her grip.

Mom really knew what she was doing. My toes curled each time she reached my cockhead and rotated her wrist. I also couldn't help but love it when she used her other hand to cup and knead my balls with the utmost care, never turning the experience into anything close uncomfortable. I was tempted to ask if she'd taken classes. Mom lathered her hand once more, and then the pace of her strokes picked up, causing me to moan and groan even louder than before.

Then, as she reached my glans, tightened her grip and rotated her wrist, my jaw dropped and I was engulfed by euphoria. My cock throbbed and pumped the contents of my sac and into my underwear and her hand, which seemed to go on forever. And like the hand job giving angle she was, Mom kept stroking until my erection stopped beating. Best. Hand job. Ever. I exhaled loudly.

"Thanks for making today so wonderful," she whispered.

Chapter Six: Second Thoughts

The next night I was all dressed up and ready for my date with Rochelle. I had my black jacket on, a matching Polo t-shirt, jeans, and formal shoes. I'd also gotten a haircut, applied my cologne and made sure my breath was minty fresh. I wanted to leave nothing to chance. I also had a bouquet of flowers with me, which I bought from the store I worked at earlier that day.

Before I left the house I stood with Mom at the front door, where she handed me the keys to her car and gave me the details of Rochelle's address. She also slipped me a little bit of cash, so I wouldn't be completely broke at the end of the night. "You look good," she said as she used her hands to brush my jacket.

"Thanks, Mom."

"Remember the advice I gave you and tomorrow you should wake up feeling like a new man." She smiled. "Rochelle should feel like the luckiest woman on earth."

Just as I was about to leave I thought I noticed a flicker of sadness in her eyes. "Is something wrong?"

She looked up and shook her head with a smile.

*

When I arrived at Rochelle's gated community I spoke to her through the intercom and was let in by security. And on my way to her housing unit I took in the sight of her commune. It was made up of an estimated one hundred housing units, including a café, a gym, a lake of a swimming pool, and a fountain that put on quite a show. What's more, I could tell whoever was in charge of the gardening was the proud owner of a green thumb. The property was undeniably beautiful and I wondered how much it would cost one to live there.

After parking in Rochelle's guest parking spot, I grabbed her bouquet, hopped out the car and walked up two flights of stairs. Then, with my stomach in knots, I took a deep breath and rang her doorbell. Moments later she opened the door with a big smile and even though her attire was somewhat causal, she looked gorgeous enough to make Greek Gods feel unworthy. She wore a red blouse, a black leather jacket, tight jeans and black heels. She also had her jewellery on, reeked of perfume and had applied her makeup. What stuck out the most was the bright red shade of her lipstick.

"Are those for me?" She glanced down at the flowers.

"Ahh, yea." I handed them over.

"Thanks, Chris. They're beautiful." She took a whiff. "Mind waiting in the living room while I put these in a vase and finish getting ready?"

"Not at all. By the way, you look great."

She led me to the living room, where I took a seat on her largest black leather couch. She told me she'd be right back, headed to the kitchen to take care of the flowers and then upstairs to where I presumed her bedroom was. As I looked around Rochelle's home I noticed it had a very modern look. All her belongings appeared as if they'd come right out of the factory. Her artwork looked like it'd been purchased from people who knew what they were doing - not that I knew anything about art. And I got the impression some hotshot decorator came in to throw it all together. The word "elegant" sprang to mind.

But as nice as Rochelle's place was, there wasn't a homey feel to it. I couldn't spot any pictures of family or friends. There was none of the damage that would indicate the presence of little kids or pets. And it was eerily quiet. It seemed like the kind of place you'd rent out to globetrotting businessmen. In my opinion, it was a beautiful but dull environment. And because I didn't know Rochelle very well, it made me wonder about her.

*

I decided to take her to a seafood restaurant I found online. I didn't know much about the place, but it had decent reviews. It also didn't look too shabby. I mean it didn't look like the kind of place where you'd run into the mayor of the city, but it also didn't look like the typical venue where high school kids would hang out. And my biggest reason for bringing her here was I was told Rochelle was a big fan of seafood.