Mother's Gift is Personal

"Yes, but...don't! Don't do that!"

Jaclyn smiled, for real this time, her teary eyes full of sparkles. "I might do it anyway. So there," she said, playfully sticking her tongue out. "A girl needs to feel loved now and then. You know about Krisha. I guess now you know why."

Dylan nodded, his own eyes getting misty. "Yeah, Mom. It's...okay. I didn't know...it was so important."

"If I tell you something, will you promise to tell me the truth about how it makes you feel?"

"Of course."

Jaclyn let her gaze drift down to Dylan's mouth. "I'm sitting here wanting to...kiss you." Her eyes drifted lower. "I can see that you're...what's the word...turned on? This is all crazy, I know. It's just your old mother hallucinating. I wondered if I'd be able to fight these feelings. Turns out I can't. Maybe we should end this experiment in 'sex education'."

"If you want, yeah, we can stop, but...I like hearing about it. Your...what did you call it...woman's perspective? It's interesting."

"Yeah? You don't think I've lost it? I'll be honest with you, not having sex with a man for over ten years, it sort of...fucks with my head. That's how...Krisha and I...that's how it started."

"Yeah, Mom. I like her. I won't tell anyone."

"I know, honey. You're my sweet boy."

Dylan let his peripheral vision see all of her, the skin-tight crotch of her lime green yoga shorts, her bare legs, her bare midriff, the lovely light and shadow of her fleshy cleavage that he'd seen for his whole life but was somehow seeing anew. "You can...teach me how to kiss if you want. I'm pretty sure Savannah wasn't any better at it than I was."

A subtle smiled curled the corners of Jaclyn's mouth. "I wonder if I'm as good as you need. Maybe we should hire that call girl."

"No, Mom. Did Dad give you the money already? Just give it to me, or...just keep it. You know how to kiss. I saw you...kissing Krisha. It looked really nice."

"That's because she and I care about each other. That's when kissing is...extra nice. And that's a good part of the lesson I guess I left out. Everything to do with sex, in every way, is so much better when you really care about the person you're with. And I love you more than anybody I've ever known, so..."

"So you're giving me the money?"

"No, silly!" giggled Jaclyn. "God! Way to break the spell! Maybe that's lesson number three. When there's a mood, do everything you can to keep it going. Do as little as possible that might break it. Those kind of moods, when you're with your girl, they're priceless, and rare. If you become the kind of guy that can nurture the mood, that's the kind of guy women can't get enough of."

Dylan nodded, wishing he'd known all that sooner.

"That look in your eyes says you're wondering if you can get the mood back," said Jaclyn, her own eyes softly lusty even in the bright light of the snowy day. "Wanna see how easy it is?"

Dylan nodded, and as quick as that his mother was toward him, her cross-legged sitting now becoming a hands and knees position right over him, gravity changing the soft fall of her hair and the weight of her breasts. He felt the warmth of her breath as her mouth touched his mouth, and another warm breath as her lips barely tickled his. This was not a kiss, this was a sexual tease, a gloriously stunning one that nearly stopped Dylan's thumping heart.

He felt her tongue next, her gentle movements of it against his, his mouth dry no more, the warm wetness seeming to taste like peaches and mint. It was a real kiss now, lips firmly together, open mouths with tongues freely playing, warm breath from flaring nostrils. Jaclyn moaned, so softly, right into Dylan's mouth, and he suddenly knew this was the best kiss that had ever happened, anywhere, anyplace, in the whole of the world and the universe.

Sitting back cross-legged again, the nice kiss over, Jaclyn, too, felt the swoon of what it had been. "See? The mood, it's...still there. You can get it back, just like that."

Dylan nodded, dumbfounded and still.

"Don't move," said Jaclyn, slithering off the bed with yoga-trained ease. "We'll do one more lesson, then save the rest for next time if you want to keep going."

Dylan nodded, the only communication he could manage. He watched his mother skitter away, his heart warmed by the twinkly enthusiasm he'd just seen in her eyes. It was just two minutes later when she returned, him still sitting, unmoving, Jaclyn still with the lime green yoga shorts on but now wearing a sweater, a tightish one that gave away the free movement of her naked breasts underneath.

"It's from last Christmas," she said, looking down at the way it looked. "You gave it to me. Remember?"

Dylan nodded, said a feeble "Yes," his male hormones nicely stirred by the sight of his gift sweater looking so very youthful and downright sexy on his mother, something that wasn't the least bit on his mind last year when he bought it for her.

Sitting on the bed again, Jaclyn looked more at ease than she did ten minutes ago when the tears had shown in her eyes. "I think we'll keep going. With the lessons. If you want to."

"Sure, Mom. This is nice." Dylan's gaze drifted down to see again the way a real woman fills out a sweater. "I like...your perspective. I feel like I'd never learn it otherwise."

"Oh, sure you would, sweetheart. But you're twenty, and I don't know what you're waiting for. Time flies. Your youth is precious. You don't want to waste it."

Dylan nodded, his eyes on his mother's again, noticing her eyeliner and mascara. Her eyes had looked this beautiful since the beginning, but the soft red lipstick was new, hastily but nicely applied just minutes ago when she put on the sweater.

"It's a good day for sweaters," she said, glancing out the window at the bright frozen winter, "but oh my God, it's like a hundred degrees in here. How do you stand it?"

Dylan shrugged. "I'm used to it."

His mother nodded, taking a lingering look at his bare upper body and bare legs. "You have to get ready for work, so...let's just use this last little bit of time for you to practice what I taught you. Oh, wow, I'm really feeling like a teacher now! This is fun!"

Dylan smiled at his mother's bright smile, a new inner warmth from his genuine happiness making him suddenly feel the oppressive heat in his room. He hadn't showered yet for work, could smell his own body, but mostly he noticed the softly flowery scent of his mother, an ever so familiar perfume that now seemed completely overwhelming and magical, altering his thoughts in a way similar to nice drugs, or maybe a warm shot of Cuervo.

"Sit up, let me lie there," said Jaclyn, her own thoughts also strangely altered now, common sense giving way to oddly compelling desire. As she pushed the pillows aside and lay herself down on the bed's warm spot that Dylan had just vacated, she posed herself in an open way, her wrists up beyond her head, an entirely submissive position that pulled the bottom of her sweater toward her breasts, baring her midriff in a way that sensuously showed off her delightful belly button. It had been on display earlier, when she had her yoga top on, but now the sight of it was more than a little seductive. "See if you remember any of the things we talked about," she said. "Try them. On me."

These were words that sent tingles all through her, and all through Dylan as well. He remembered everything she'd talked about, but his mind was clouded with kissing thoughts, the way she'd tickled his lips with hers, the way her tongue had playfully entered his welcoming mouth so delightfully shamelessly.

And so he positioned himself on hands and knees on top of her, the way she'd been above him, and he let his breath touch her mouth, and he heard her quiet moan even before his lips softly met hers. She moaned even deeper when his tongue drew hers into play, and when his mouth drifted to the side of her neck for some improvisation he heard her softly say "Yes!"

Remembering what she'd said about the touching, Dylan's bashful hand went to the smoothness of his mother's waist, her warmly humid skin not quite as sweaty as his palm. Should I do this? That's what he wondered, in the quiet of his unquiet mind, as his hand ever so tentatively began to roam. His mother's satisfied moan—and her hand now at the back of his neck, holding his kiss against her hungry mouth again—gave him his answer: Yes, she wants me to do this! She absolutely wants my fingers up under the bottom of her sweater. Oh my God, it's so warm up underneath, this sweater is wool, her skin is so hot! And she's moaning like crazy now! Oh my God, I feel her breast! It's sweating! It's almost slippery! It's the hottest, softest thing I've ever felt!

Dylan felt swept away, his mind not working at all but somehow guiding him. He pushed his mother's sweater toward her shoulders, her glorious breasts now out in the open in the bright light of day, so bare and soft as his mouth began to devour them. The nipples she'd spoke of, the attention they desired, it was exactly what Dylan desired, the synergy of his and his mother's prurient thoughts now striking Dylan as magical. Magical too were the nipples themselves, standing proudly erect atop the warm softness of breast flesh. These were full-on tits, he now knew, not breasts at all but sexual tits, and he remembered what she'd said, and he licked, sucked and played with them with his teeth and his fingers, finally pinching them, drawing a loud, ecstatic response from his equally swept-away mother.

Dylan did it again, and again, then he sucked the thoroughly pinched hardness of these nipples into his mouth again, and his hands squeezed the soft flesh of these newfound tits, and Jaclyn moaned so beautifully into the snow-blind brightness of the sweltering hot room.

—

That afternoon, Jaclyn and Krisha did some shopping at a big department store. "These crowds are insane. Why does everyone wait till the last minute?"

"Hey, you're the one with all these new ideas," Krisha said, her once strong Indian accent now faded halfway to American. "Did Dylan take out the trash without being asked or something? I thought you were all done shopping for him."

Jaclyn smiled. "I just...had an epiphany, I guess. I want to help him look...more attractive. To girls. You can help me pick out some things."

"Okay. What are we after here, George Clooney or Matthew McConaughey?"

"Ooo lal la! I want both!" said Jaclyn, smiling. "But wow, Matthew McConaughey! I hadn't thought of that. That hairstyle might be perfect for Dylan, right?"

"Oh my God, you're giving him a full make-over? Is he onboard with this?"

"He'll love it. I'm buying him new glasses, better clothes, and a good haircut. That old barber he goes to knows nothing. Matthew McConaughey's hair is perfect!"

Krisha giggled. "Wow! You're on a mission! You remind me of an Indian mother. Full control."

"Are women in India turned on by Matthew McConaughey?"

Krisha smirked. "Not all of them. Some are much more turned on by Western women like you."

Jaclyn smiled. "Bring 'em on, sweetheart. Where are all these dark-eyed beauties?"

"Oh no. I've got dibs," said Krisha, smirking.

"I've got some news on that front," said Jaclyn. "Dylan has new hours at work. He's on second shift now, three till eleven. That means he's home most of the day."

"Oh, shoot! Speaking of Indian mothers, why do I have to live with mine?"

"Because you're sweet. You didn't let me finish though. Dylan, he...knows about us. He saw us the other day. Saw us kissing. But before you freak out, I had a wonderful talk with him, and...it's all good. Nothing to worry about. I think, even, we don't have to change anything."

"You're crazy! Oh my God, he knows? Jaclyn, how can you be so casual about this? He's really...okay with it?"

"At first it was confusing for him, but I told him the whole story, about his father. It was a really nice conversation. Dylan told me things, too. About himself. His...girl problems. He's really stuck, feeling like he's not desirable. One little fling with one girl. Some kissing and touching. That's it. That's just not right for a twenty-year-old boy."

"You're definitely an American version of an Indian mother. Wonderfully twisted."

Jaclyn smiled. "I'll take that as a compliment. Jesus, that Santa Clause is...are you seeing that face? That guy is handsome! "

Krisha chuckled, glancing at the Santa with the toddler boy on his lap. "Oh my God, do I need to buy you a male stripper for Christmas? If I don't tell him I'm Hindu maybe it would be all right. I'll request he wears a Santa suit."

Jaclyn laughed, her happy eyes twinkling with all her love of this joyous time of the year.

—

The next morning, Dylan heard a soft knock at his closed bedroom door. "Come on in, Mom."

Jaclyn quietly entered, wearing nightclothes this time, a cute pair of shorty summer pajamas with lace trim on all the edges, the nipply thinness of the snug-on-the-breasts camisole style top showing quite a lot of scoop-neck cleavage. "I wasn't sure...how late do you want to sleep?" she asked. "Is getting home near midnight going to throw off your sleep schedule?"

"No, I was beat when I got home. Sleep was easy." Dylan's body moved under his sheet, his groggy, awakening mind remembering he'd tried sleeping nude last night, taking his mother's suggestion for a spin, as it were, and yes, he very comfortably slept right through the night that way.

"Good Lord, it must be a hundred in here. We should get out the summer fan for you, unless your father is going to fix this thing." Jaclyn stepped nearer to the cast-iron radiator, held her hand above the top of it, heard the hissing steam as she looked out Dylan's window at the thick blanket of bright white snow on the ground.

"You're not exactly dressed in flannel, Mom. Is your room warm, too?"

"Oh," she said, glancing down at her cute little pajamas, not wanting to admit that she'd just picked them out of her drawer of 'sexies' and put them on. "Yes, I guess it is."

Dylan squirmed under his sheet as she approached, worried about his nudity as his mother sat down on the edge of his bed.

"So," she said, with a strangely mystical look in her eyes. "I thought we could do another lesson."

Dylan's cock began to harden, quicker than he could ever remember it happening. "Yeah," he said, subtly adjusting his legs and the sheet. "Maybe...I should get dressed first."

"No, let's keep it informal. It's easier for me if it's just...casual. Like we're just chatting, and the subject happens to turn to...sexy things. You know?"

Dylan did know, so he nodded, glad the sheet had bunched up right where he needed it. He couldn't help but notice his mother's breasts, the roundness of them seeming to stretch the thin fabric of her pajama top, the bumps from her nipples giving away her barely restrained excitement.

"We talked a little about oral sex yesterday. Do you remember?"

"Yeah," said Dylan, wishing he had the confidence to pour forth with all the details about ass-in-the-face sixty-nine that she'd sermonized so stirringly yesterday. "I remember."

"I got a little carried away and jumped all the way to more advanced things, but really, it'll probably start with you doing it to your girl, or maybe, if she's fun, she'll do it to you first. Do you know what I mean? I'm not explaining it very well, all my coffee is making my heart race."

"Yeah, I think I know what you mean."

"I looked it up this morning," said Jaclyn, her eyes even more beautifully sparkling now. "Fellatio, that's the correct word for a blowjob, and cunnilingus, that's what you'll do to her...with your mouth...on her...oh my gosh, yesterday I was using all the words, but today...why am I embarrassed to say 'pussy'? That's what guys your age call it, right?"

"Yeah."

Jaclyn pushed Dylan's legs, urging them to move over so she could sit more fully on his bed. Her sneaky eyes watched the rumpled part of the sheet that covered the middle of him, eager to discern what was going on under it, and she took a yoga-like cross-legged sitting position again, this time knowing full well that the shortness of her looser-legged pajama shorts might give glimpses of her bareness underneath. She was pretty sure Dylan didn't have that angle of view, but still, this scantily clad casualness was a new kind of thrill.

"Good. Pussy it is, then," she said, her subtle smile something close to a smirk. "Does having your mouth on one sound appealing? I can imagine...well, I can remember...when the thought of it seemed more than odd. What do you think about it?"

"Yeah, it seems...I don't now...like, unknown, I guess."

Jaclyn nodded. "Mysterious, maybe? I mean, I have one, and even I thought it was...I don't know...odd is the wrong word...I guess I just wondered what it tasted like, and what it felt like to have my mouth there. It's the same with a blowjob. My first time doing one, it was...my mind was just...so overwhelmed."

"Was it...with Dad?"

"No, Honey, It was a boy from school. Jerry is his name. He was...the quarterback on the football team, believe it or not. Senior year. He sort of taught me all about how to give a blowjob, and I liked it, a lot, but it wasn't too long before I realized I wasn't the only one. Every slut in the school was...well...doing lots of things for him. The whole team was...that way. I sorted it out pretty quickly and didn't go down the slut path, but...sometimes I wish I had. Is that awful?"

"No, Mom. It's...kinda cool. I didn't know you were like that in school."

Jaclyn smirked. "What, you got a soft spot for sluts?" Reaching for him, she tickled his belly right through the rumpled sheet, his hard cock lying there, surprising her, her mischievous fingers just slightly feeling its presence. "Ha ha!" she giggled, hearing Dylan's familiar giggle, her tickle dragging the sheet down, perilously close to a big reveal. It took all her willpower to keep from pulling the sheet right off of him, so powerful was her curiosity, so hungry was her desire to suck a cock again.

"What would you do if a nice slut said she wanted to suck your cock?" asked Jaclyn, the tickling done, her eyes still luminously alive.

Dylan smirked. "A nice slut? Are there other kinds?"

"There's other kinds of everything. A nice slut is one who doesn't talk about it. It's all just between the two of you. Sort of a magical bubble that you live in, where normal rules don't apply. That's what being a slut is. It's breaking the rules, happily. It's breaking the rules because you have to, because you need to. And it's too much fun; I sucked Jerry's cock right under the bleachers one night, when the baseball team was playing. Anyone could have looked down and seen us. Maybe some of them did."

"Oh my God. Mom. That's...so hot."

"I heard that he fucked a girl under there one night, during a game. That might not be true, but..."

"Wow."

"So you see? Sex is fun. It's exciting. You'll find, with your girl, that danger can be a big part of the excitement, if you want it that way. Some girls are turned on by it. Some boys, too. Where do you think you fall on that spectrum? Care to speculate?"

"Yeah, I mean...it sounds really exciting. I'm not sure I could...fuck a girl, like, there. That sounds like too much maybe, but..."

"But, maybe doing it indoors, with the curtains open?" asked Jaclyn, glancing over at the bright winter day just outside. "That might be a good starting point for you."

Dylan nodded.

"Actually, I just thought of a really good learning exercise you could try. Something to work on to help get your mind at ease when you're with your girl. I mean, this is the most basic thing, almost as basic as kissing, I'd say. It's also something your father has never been comfortable with."