No Monkey Business: Week 02

"It's a dog!" I yelled at mom, who gave me a look.

"Behold the shit, Sherlock!" she yelled back, gesturing around us. "And you will see that there is none!"

We both gave little starts as mom yelled the last word at me in sudden silence, the truck's alarm cutting off.

"Sorry about that, folks!" came a voice from nearby. Its owner soon appeared, a short and stout man, much like a teapot. He looked like he was dressed for fishing, except for the fishing rod, which he did not have. "Brutus c'mere and stop botherin' them nice people." Brutus turned from sniffing my shoe to give his owner a look of deep contemplation, before returning to the important issue of my footwear. "Hope he weren't no problem," said the man.

"Oh no, we were just, I was," I scrambled to think of something other than 'fucking my mom'. "I lost my contact lenses," I said at last and mom sighed.

"We found them though," she chimed in, before we got stuck in that conversational dead end again.

"Well," said the man, somehow stretching the word into three syllables. "That would've been a tasty pickle to squeeze out of the jar, ain't it?" he said with a chuckle.

Mom smiled politely, while I tried to figure out whether 'yes' or 'no' was a better answer. The man walked into the awkward silence, coming over to us and holding out his hand.

"Name's Julian if it do yer," he said. "Julian Caesar."

"Nice to meet you," mom and I both claimed, giving him our names in turn. I shook his hand, and then mom held out her left hand, causing a brief moment of confusion as Mr Caesar didn't seem to know what to do with it. I was a bit confused too since mom is right handed, and then I remembered what she'd been doing with that right hand on the drive here, and noticed that she was holding it behind her back lest our new friend ask what she'd spilled all over it.

In an effort to distract him I grabbed at the first thing I could think of.

"Wait, your name's Julian Caesar?" I asked.

"Ayuh," he conceded.

"As in..."

"The dressing, ayuh. Never liked it myself, mind."

"And your dog's name is Brutus."

"That it is."

"As in..."

"The fellow from Popeye, ayuh." He looked down at the dog. "On account of him lovin' olive oil," he went on. "Drinks that stuff like water if you give him the chance."

"Oh," I said. The preceding eighteen years of my life had not prepared me for a conversation like this. I looked down at the dog, for want of anything else to do. I swear the dog looked back at me conspiratorially.

"Shouldn't though," continued Mr Caesar, "what with it givin' him the shi- the runs," he said, shaking his head sadly.

"Well!" piped up mom. "We should start our walk."

"Right!" I said oh so gratefully. The man looked mom up and down appraisingly.

"Mightn't be a bit chilly for yer, ma'am," he said.

"Oh I'm sure my son here will keep me warm, but thank you for your concern Mr Caesar," she said, beaming at him.

"Ain't'n't nothin'," he said, a small patch of red appearing in his cheeks. "You fellas take care now, y'hear?"

"We will," said mom.

"Take care!" I said as we locked the car then started to walk away towards the start of one of the trails that began at this car park. Brutus gave me a look which I choose to interpret as 'Oh I'll take care of him alright.' And with that we parted ways.

---

I thought we'd just walk down the trail for a couple of minutes until we were sure Mr Caesar had gone, then circle back to the car park for some vehicular shenanigans. Or failing that, we could drive home and fuck each other senseless on the living room floor.

I thought wrong, and mom kept up a lively pace as we headed down the trail. We only passed one other person as we walked along. They also had a dog, but thankfully were satisfied to just nod and say "Afternoon" in passing rather than enter into any conversation about their dog's name or bodily functions.

The chill in the air and the physical exertion seemed to keep us in perfect thermal equilibrium as we walked. Never getting sweaty and hot nor growing too cold. We were baby bear's porridge. But less likely to be eaten by a felonious blond.

I actually quite enjoy hiking, but hadn't managed to do much during the past year. I also wasn't wearing the best shoes for it due to the nature of our outing. Fortunately the trail we were on was loosely gravelled the whole way rather than a genuine wilderness path. Still, after half an hour or so of mom's keen pace I was starting to feel it. Just as I was thinking of asking mom if we could slow down a bit we reached a small bench by the side of the path, and mom sat down on it. I dropped down next to her, glad to see that she was breathing as heavily as I was.

We just sat there for a while, facing away from the path and looking out into the forest around us. It was peaceful and it was beautiful, if occasionally interrupted by the distant sounds of vehicles.

Mom leaned against me as we sat there, resting her head on my shoulder, and I wrapped my arm around her waist to keep us both warm now that we were still.

After the emotions and the hormones and the nerves and the frustrations and the near misses of the past two weeks, this just felt right. I absolutely loved what mom and I had been doing, and had no idea how I'd cope with its absence from tomorrow, but this right here, with the birds singing and the sun rays shining between the trees and her hair tickling my cheek, this was perfect.

"I love you, mom," I whispered, not wanting to spoil the moment with my voice. I knew she was smiling, without even looking.

"I love you too," she whispered back. "And, you know, whatever's happened, and whatever happens next, I'll always be your mom."

"I know," I said, and that little knot inside me untangled itself as I realized that I did know that. Deep down I guess I'd been worrying that what I'd done with mom had changed our relationship somehow. And of course it had, but not in the way that I'd worried about. We'd added to our relationship in a new and wonderful way, and when we stopped this strange and beautiful thing we were doing then that part of our relationship would always be there, joining us. She wasn't now a girlfriend who was going to break up with me and foster only awkwardness and hate. She was my mom and I loved her all the more for what we'd done, even if it stopped this instant and never happened again. "And I'll always be your son." I whispered.

She found my hand with hers and squeezed it. "I know," she whispered. And I know she did.

---

I had a second grade teacher who said Heaven isn't like life but better. It's not just endless birthday parties and jello for every meal. (We were in second grade, remember.) No, heaven is the best moment of your life, stretched out for infinity.

That sounded kind of lame in second grade, especially compared to endless jello. And these days I'm pretty agnostic on the whole afterlife thing as a whole. But if he was right then that moment on that bench could be my infinity. And I'd be okay with that.

Real life soldiers on though. And after a while sat still on the bench we were both starting to feel the cold. And while our hormones could take a brief break to be sappy, they couldn't be ignored forever.

"Come on," said mom, getting to her feet and flashing me a naughty smile. "We're nearly there."

I didn't ask where, knowing I'd get no straight answers, so just took mom's hand and followed her down the trail.

The sounds of vehicles increased as we walked, and ten minutes after we'd left the bench we emerged from the trees and found ourselves behind a squat building next to a road. A familiar dishevelled extension was attached to the back of the building, which I took to be a gas station from some clues like the huge sign giving the price of gas visible looming at the front.

"Is this...?" I started to say, but mom ignored me and dragged me towards the small building in front of us. We came to a dilapidated door upon which a heavily repainted sign hung saying "Toilets".

I looked at mom, who gave a little shrug and pulled me forwards and into the structure.

It was just as I remembered, the surprisingly clean toilet block that we'd come to a week ago when mom couldn't wait for us to get home. It had been a pretty great time. Except for us breaking one of the cubicle doors. And then nearly getting caught. And then having to leave without me managing to cum. Actually I'm not sure it was so great.

Much like the previous week we had the place to ourselves, at least for now. And what I couldn't help but think of as 'our' cubicle had been fixed up as good as new. I assumed we'd go in there but instead mom pulled me into the central cubicle of the three and then drew home the bolt behind us. It was quite cramped in there. The cubicle by the door was the largest of the three, which was one of the reasons we'd used that last week. Still, any port in a storm.

Rather than fiddling with me, mom seemed to be fiddling with the toilet roll dispenser, and after a brief tussle it came away from the wall. I stared at mom as she placed the dispenser on top of the closed toilet seat, not sure when my mild mannered mom had become such a vandal. She then stepped aside and gestured to where the toilet roll dispenser wasn't.

"Do you know what this is?" she said quietly.

"A class C felony?" I asked.

She rolled her eyes and pointed. I looked at where she was pointing, seeing the hole in the thin wooden wall dividing the cubicles where the dispenser had hung. Except... I looked back at the dispenser, which had four small tacks in the corners to keep it affixed, and nothing on its back that would fit into the hole. "Is that?" I began, then crouched down and looked at the hole again. It was a very neat cut, and even had some kind of soft material lining it so that if, say, something sensitive were slotted through the hole then it wouldn't chafe on the exposed wood. It wasn't huge, only slightly bigger than the hole made when I put the ends of my thumb and index finger together. But big enough. For other things.

I cleared my throat. "I, uh, think I know what that is." It would be a cool day in hell indeed before I admitted to my mother that I knew the word gloryhole.

"Good," said mom, resting her hand over my cock, which had started to stiffen in my jeans as soon as I realized what the hole was. "Would you like to use it?" she asked, leaning around me to place soft kisses along my jaw. My cock leapt at the feeling and mom gave it a little squeeze back.

"Um, with you?" I said, wanting clarification here.

"Mhmm," said mom, kissing down to my neck and opening up my jeans to release my ever growing erection. She took it in her hand and gave it a series of slow strokes before looking into my eyes. "Or you could just take me right here," she said, lifting the front of her skirt so that I could see her underwear. "If you're close," she added, almost as an after thought.

Tempting though that second option was, the sheer naughtiness of using the gloryhole was too good to resist, while the knowledge that it would be my mom on the other side also made it safe in a way that I knew I would never feel if I used one of these things as nature intended.

"I'd like to use it," I said softly. As the words spilled out I wondered if mom would be offended that I'd rather use her through some anonymizing hole than face to face. Clearly I needn't have worried as mom grinned at my answer, clamping her thighs together and giving a little shudder.

"Good," she said, kissing me softly on the lips. "Post it through when you're ready," she said. "And knock three times when you're close." She then gave three short, sharp knocks on the cubicle wall to demonstrate. "Nice and loud or I might not hear you." I nodded in understanding, though wasn't sure what was wrong with me just yelling 'Yo, mom, I'm close.' Gloryhole etiquette, I guess. She gave me another little kiss before leaving the cubicle. I had a brief moment of panic that someone would burst in at that precise moment and see me stood there with a semi-on. Or charge into the neighboring cubicle before mom could stop them and then sit down to be confronted with my cock peering at them through the hole.

Neither thing happened, as luck would have it, and I bolted the door behind mom, then heard her go into the cubicle next door. She started humming, which was a little odd, but I concentrated on my part of the job. I had a brief debate about trying to post my balls through the hole too, but decided against it and just slid my cock through, leaning myself up against the wall to get as close as possible.

For a moment nothing happened, except mom humming her little ditty. And then I heard her gasp. "Oh my, what's this?" she said with a performance worthy of no Oscars. There was a long pause, as if mom was waiting for someone to feed her a line. And then I could almost hear her shrug and decide to feed on something else.

Without being able to see I couldn't really know what was going on in mom's cubicle, but I'd had enough blowjobs from her now to recognise the feeling of her lips as they gently kissed the end of my cock. Another kiss followed, then another. The kisses were plentiful but so soft that I'm not sure they would have done much for me in normal circumstances. But the thrill of not being able to see turned every sensation up to eleven, and mom's kisses by themselves soon had my erection almost at full mast. Then mom's lips slipped around me, and I went to full mast and beyond.

We were both being quieter than normal, understandably given the circumstances, but neither of us could help let out our little sounds of pleasure as mom's lips slid down my cock and back again. She repeated the motion again and again, getting a little faster each time, until I knew I wouldn't be able to hold on much longer. The teasing at home, in the car, and now here were all adding up to a whole lot of cum, I knew, and soon. I was about to knock on the wall when mom's lips reached the end of a stroke and then their sensation vanished altogether. I gasped, the lack of feeling hitting me almost as hard as its presence. I could hear some shuffling around from the other side of the divider, but didn't want to break the spell by asking what mom was doing. A few seconds later I didn't care as I felt her lips touch me again. Except this sensation was all different to the last one, and I felt a hot wet pressure surrounding the end of my cock and slowly enveloping it inch by inch.

I gasped as I realized what was happening, then nearly came at the mental image of mom bent over in the neighboring cubicle, shoving herself against my cock jutting out from the wall. I tried to give a little thrust only for nothing to happen except a painful sensation around the base of my cock. I panicked, and looked down to see that I was now so engorged that I was filling the hole. I was, in fact, the perfect size. A round peg in a round hole. Any bigger and it would be cutting off circulation. As it was it just meant I was trapped in place until my cock calmed down, unless I was willing to risk some very difficult to explain wounds on my cock.

With the panic easing, I could go back to enjoying the sensation of mom easing back along my cock until it dropped back out of her. Her pussy had felt so good that I knew that between it and the eroticism of the gloryhole I'd be cumming quickly once I was back inside her. As I thought all this I felt mom once again take me in her mouth, resuming the rapid pace she'd had before. I was sorry to end this second blowjob so quickly but I could tell I'd be cumming far too soon to make it last.

I raised my hand to knock on the wall, then froze in place as I heard the toilet block's door open up. I didn't dare move as I heard the newcomer take a few steps in. My heart nearly burst from my chest when I heard them push against my cubicle's door, though the bolt held firm. I then heard them try mom's door and hoped she'd remembered to lock it behind her. Apparently she had, as the newcomer made their way back to the first cubicle and I heard them head in and bolt the door.

I still didn't dare move, though with hindsight I probably should have made some noises to allay suspicion. Mom too was being utterly silent, though not utterly still as she began working her tongue in circles around the head of my cock. I brought the fist I'd been about to use to knock on the wall to my mouth, trying desperately not to make any noises. This only got more difficult as mom slipped my cock back between her lips, circled the head with her tongue, then pulled out again. She repeated this process a couple of times until she got the hang of it, then turned up the speed.

I almost gasped as mom's mouth worked some kind of magic spell on me, charming out the most reluctant of orgasms. No matter how hard I focused on being quiet and not cumming, mom's mouth was not to be ignored. A shaky little breath escaped me as I put my hand against the wall and gave three little taps with my fingertip. Mom's onslaught continued apace, if anything getting faster. I made one last attempt to pull my cock backwards, with even less success, then gave three more taps on the wall, slightly louder than before.

But even as I tapped I knew it was too little too late. That familiar tightening sensation started in the base of my cock, flaring to brief pain as the hole gripped me, and then all turned to pleasure as I felt my cock throb over and over, a jet of cum accompanying each throb.

I thought mom would release me at the first sign of orgasm, maybe even try to get me into her pussy before it was all over. But instead her lips stayed wrapped around me the whole time, and her tongue even gave small strokes to the underside of my head encouraging every last drop out.

Here, in the midst of my orgasm, is when the intruder chose to finish up and flush their toilet. In the sudden cacophony I let out the breath I'd been holding, gasping down some much needed air. On the other side of the wall I thought I heard mom moan, but it was hard to tell, and my cock was rapidly becoming too sensitive for me to trust whether I felt a subtle vibration around it.

As our uninvited guest washed their hands, my cock slowly deflated to the point where it was not trapped any more, and when mom released it from her mouth I drew it back through the hole. There was a red mark around its base where it had been held in place by the hole, but otherwise it seemed unharmed. I wasn't so sure whether I was going to remain unharmed when mom got her hands on me. Getting my cum inside her was the plan, true, but definitely not like this. She'd be pissed at me, and I'd deserve it. When the block's door opened and I heard the visitor crunch their way out across the gravel, I considered knocking on the wall three times, but that didn't seem funny even to me. Instead I returned the toilet roll dispenser to the wall, taking a minute to figure out how it was attached, then exited my stall.

Mom was still in her cubicle, and I didn't want to rush her. But a couple of minutes passed by and she still wasn't out. I decided to break the silence.

"Sorry, mom," I said, sounding nearly as remorseful as I felt.

"S'okay, honey," she said from inside her cubicle, sounding breathless.

"Are you alright, mom?" I asked, hoping I hadn't choked her with my cum.

"Mhmm," she said, then repeated it a moment later. And then a long silence, followed by soft sigh. Before I could ask again the cubicle door opened and mom came out looking a little dishevelled and with a red blush creeping from her chest to her neck.

She smiled at me, which turned to a worried frown as she saw the look on my face.

"I'm sorry," I said again. "I tried to knock but didn't want the person to hear and I got kind of trapped and-"