No Monkey Business: Week 02

Mom swallowed the last of her lunch and nodded. "Yep. Seeing Mr Brownling mowing his lawn reminded me that our back yard needs a bit of work. I got started on it this morning, I'm going to head back out there when we're done here."

I felt a little embarrassed about that. I usually helped mom out with gardening, but had managed to sleep through her work that morning. "I'll help, then," I said.

Mom shook her head. "Not so fast, mister. You're leaving for college in a week, right?" I nodded. "And how is packing going?"

"Oh you know," I said, taking a sudden interest in a breadcrumb on my plate. "I know what I'm taking to college." That was sort of true. "And I've got some boxes ready." It was certainly true I owned boxes, albeit ones that were full of other stuff at the moment. "I just have to put the stuff in the boxes." That last sentence was one hundred per cent true. Except for the word 'just'.

Mom knew me too well to believe me, but also knew I would get my packing done before the last minute. "How very organized," she said. "In that case I'll carry on in the garden while you just put those carefully itemized things in those handily prepared boxes of yours." She smiled at me sweetly. I knew when I was beat and so, once the dishes from lunch had been washed, I slunk upstairs to my room while mom returned to our back yard.

Packing a few boxes for college somehow managed to simultaneously take both more and less time than I'd expected it to. Finding a couple of boxes was easy. Emptying their contents into a Jenga-esque heap in the bottom of my closet was the work of a moment. Tidying up those same contents when that Jenga-esque heap inevitably collapsed and spilled stuff all over my bedroom floor took rather more time. And figuring out what I actually wanted to take with me to college took most of the afternoon.

I didn't consider myself to be someone who owned a lot of stuff. There was the crappy computer that my grandparents had bought for me years ago but that still worked well enough. There was the modest collection of second hand books. The even more modest collection of films and music. A few childhood toys that I wasn't going to throw away but also wasn't going to take to college with me. I had a small but varied collection of clothes. And not much else. By the time it started to get dark in the early evening I'd filled a couple of boxes, emptied them again, then refilled one of them. I figured the other box could be used for food supplies and some kitchen stuff. I had a separate bag for my clothes. I was pretty pleased with myself.

Since I'd been successful in my day's work, I knelt on my bed to peer out of the window and see how mom was getting on with hers. Our back yard wasn't huge but, as mom had said, it needed some work. In the ever-decreasing light I could see that she had raked up all the leaves into a couple of piles, and made a pretty decent job of weeding the flower beds around the edge of the yard. At present she was pottering about near our garden shed, though I couldn't see what she was up to.

Packing my stuff for college had tired me out pretty effectively, but I suspected mom would be even more tired. She was the one doing the more physical labor. Also she hadn't had a nap in the morning. I decided to be a good son and go help her out. It also may have occurred to me that it was nearly dark and mom would have to stop soon, so I could get brownie points for helping mom while not actually having to work for too long. I slipped on a sweater and some old jeans - clothes more suited for gardening in the chilly evening air - and headed downstairs. We had a light outside that, in theory, would illuminate the back yard pretty well. In practice the bulb had broken years ago and neither mom nor I had replaced it. Instead I flicked on the kitchen light. The kitchen window looked out onto the back yard so the light would provide some modicum of illumination. That done I passed through our small laundry room and out through the back door.

"Hey, mom" I said once I emerged. In the few minutes it had taken me to get changed and get outside, the darkness had really swept in. Mom was kneeling by the side of the shed, attacking some creeping plants with a short tool, but I could only see her because she was illuminated by the light spilling out from the kitchen. Mom's eyes must have adjusted better to the dark. Or maybe she was just determined to finish whatever it was she was doing before wrapping things up.

"Heya," said mom, looking up at me. "Finish putting those things in those boxes?"

I nodded, "Sure have. I thought I'd come out here and help you now."

"Thanks," she said. "Why don't you get down here and hack at this creepy green thing, and I'll start putting stuff away?" She got to her feet as she said this, stretching her arms up and arching her back in the process. She was wearing some torn old jeans and a light cardigan over one of her baggy jumpers, but now I knew what was hiding under her clothes it was hard not to see the slight hints of curves that her stretch showed off. All too soon she lowered her arms and held the garden tool in her hand out to me then passed over the garden gloves she had been wearing.

"Right you are," I said, taking the items from her and getting down on my knees by the shed where she had been. The offending plant had been trying to burrow down between the shed and the ground. It was not the world's greatest shed to begin with and really didn't need its structural integrity being compromised by an overly curious plant. The shed was narrow but quite long, and the plant seemed to be growing along its entire length. Fortunately for me mom had hacked most of the plant away from the shed, leaving only a couple of feet left to disengage. It would be but a moment's work, I figured.

I don't know how many moments there are in a minute, but there are definitely enough to make a mockery of my estimate of how long getting rid of the plant would take. Mom had finished putting everything away and was clearly loitering while I built up a sweat trying to disengage the plant from the old wooden shed. There had to be a knack to it, I thought, but no approach seemed to work better than any other, which is to say not very well at all.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity but was probably more like twenty minutes, I yanked the last bit of greenery off the shed's side and tossed it on the minuscule pile behind me. I stood then and stretched out, half way through the motion before realizing I was precisely copying mom's motion from earlier. As that thought occurred to me I lowered my arms and glanced around. Mom was nowhere to be seen in the back yard, but nor had I noticed her go back into the house. It was, admittedly, possible that she'd gone back inside without me noticing. I'd been a little distracted during my battle with nature. Mostly I'd been distracted by trying to come up with ever more inventive insults to use against the plant. I'd heard that some people said nice things to their plants to make them grow better. It stood to reason that hurling obscenities at the thing growing on the shed might make it easier to destroy. It didn't seem to work, but more to the point I had no idea where mom was.

"Mom?" I called out to the back yard, not really expecting a response.

"In here," came the muffled reply from inside the shed. With hindsight that was obviously where mom was. I walked around to the front of the shed and peeked in. The light spilling out of the kitchen fell at an oblique angle through the shed's doorway, only just taking the edge off the pitch blackness within. I couldn't see mom inside the embarrassingly cluttered shed, but then I couldn't see much of anything in there.

"Mom?" I tried again, taking a few tentative steps into the shed. There were various garden tools and boxes of who-knows-what scattered around the shed, making it a minefield in the dark. I let my eyes adjust a little then took a few more steps inside. I was about to call out again when a slow creak sounded behind me, and the little light that had been spilling into the interior of the shed was cut off. Someone had closed the shed's door.

I only had a moment to come to that realization before I felt that someone press themselves up against my back. A pair of hands encircled my chest and then slid down my front before making quick work of the buttons on my jeans. I let out a soft gasp as my jeans and underwear were pushed down to my thighs then mom's cool hand wrapped around my cock, slowly pumping it.

I sighed as my cock responded to the treatment, stiffening under mom's ministrations. Mom let out a quiet "Mmm" as she felt it happen.

Much as I was enjoying mom's hand on my cock, I did feel like her luring me into the shed then closing the door had been a cheap prank to scare me. I decided it was only fair to get my own back a little bit.

"Oh, god," I whispered softly. Mom let out another little moan and sped up her hand on my cock. "Oh that feels so good... Mr Brownling," I said, grinning to myself. Mom's hand froze on my cock as I said our neighbor's name, and I delighted in what I assumed to be mom's discomfiture, although mom stopping her handjob was less delightful. I pressed on with my advantage. "But we have to be quiet, Mr Brownling. My mom's around here somewhere and she must never know about our forbidden love."

There are some things about myself that I think must have come from my dad, whoever he was. But my sense of humor? That's all mom. Just as I was basking in my success at freaking out mom she resumed her handjob on my cock with gusto. "Don't worry, kid," she said in a gravelly voice that was impressive in how little it sounded like our neighbor. "I won't tell her if you don't." She gave my cock a little squeeze then carried on jerking me off. "After all, you've got such a lovely cock, and old man Brownling needs it in his old man butt."

"Jesus Christ, mom!" I said, hoisted by my own petard. The mental image was so mortifying that my cock actually flagged a bit despite mom's handiwork

"There is no mom. Only Brownling," said mom in her gravelly voice. It was an impression somewhat ruined by her breaking into giggles as soon as she'd said it.

I spun around to face mom, her hand losing its grip on my cock in the process. Once I'd turned around I realised that it wasn't as pitch black in the shed as I'd thought. Mom hadn't fully shut the shed door, so a trickle of light was coming in. Not enough to see anything clearly, but enough to make out silhouettes and glints here and there. I could see, for example, mom gently shaking with mirth. "Alright, I give up," I said. This didn't seem to stop mom's amusement so I reached around her and grabbed her ass to pull her against me. I was delighted to find that mom's jeans and underwear had vanished, and my hands rested on the cool skin of her behind. My erection sprung back into action, brushing against the soft curls of mom's pubic hair as it rose.

"Ooh, hello," said mom, breaking into a fresh burst of giggles as she felt my cock against her. I pulled her against me by her ass, the bottom of my cock now resting in her pubic hair while its tip nudged against her jumper-clad stomach. I leant my head forward, intending to capture mom's tongue with my own and stop her giggles. Unfortunately I misjudged just where her mouth was and instead of initiating an erotic make out session I just kind of slobbered on mom's cheek. Suffice to say she found this hilarious.

"Anywhere else you wanna lick?" she asked between laughs.

Inspired, I responded "Not yet." I then put my hands on her shoulders and gently pressed downwards. "But you could."

Mom got the hint and finally stopped giggling, even letting out a little coo as she sunk to her knees in front of me. As soon as she was down she cupped my balls with one hand and took my cock in her other hand, before slowly starting to lick the head. I ran my fingers into mom's hair but let her dictate the pace.

The pace she opted for would probably best be described as 'leisurely'. She worked her tongue around the tip of my cock for some time before finally encircling the head with her lips. Even then she kept her mouth still, only giving soft little strokes to my cock with her tongue. Slow it may have been, but that didn't stop it feeling astonishingly good. I groaned at the pleasure mom was giving me before murmuring "You're so fucking good at that, mom."

I could feel mom smiling around the end of my cock. And then, as if to prove that she wasn't a one-trick pony, she thrust her head forward and started bobbing her mouth up and down the length of my cock, her tongue pressing up against the underside as she did so. My hips twitched at the new sensations she was conjuring and my fingers tightened their grip on her head. I knew it would only take a few minutes for mom to elicit an orgasm from me at this rate. Part of me wanted to ignore our agreement, to keep fucking mom's face until the cum exploded into her mouth. A different part of me wanted something slightly different. The latter part of me won out.

I let her carry on for another half minute or so, then leant down and put my hands under mom's armpits and pulled her up. She seemed a bit put out to have her toy taken away, but stood up willingly enough. I then bent my knees just a little and maneuvered my cock in between mom's legs. Even with my cock coated in mom's warm saliva I could feel the warmth and wetness of mom's pussy as I slid my cock head over the folds around her opening. I tried to push upwards and enter her, but the angle was far too awkward. Luckily mom realised what I was trying to do and came to the rescue. Putting an arm around my neck for support she lifted one leg and grabbed my cock from me then guided it into her waiting pussy. We both let out lust-filled groans as we pushed our hips towards one another and the length of my cock vanished inside mom.

It was an awkward position, but mom threw her other arm around my neck and I grabbed her ass, which helped us avoid a potentially fatal and incredibly embarrassing fall onto some pointy garden equipment. We both then started making little thrusts with our hips which, between us, managed to actually generate some traction. For the first time since our arrangement had started, I really did feel like I was fucking my mom. My head spun at how good it felt. Up until then I'd only really been inside mom when I was about to cum, which obviously felt good in a whole different way. Having mom's tight wetness engulf me when I wasn't on the brink of an orgasm was something new, and something incredible.

I only had a few seconds to enjoy it, though. That was when mom breathlessly said, "You're gonna cum already?" The question was punctuated by the noise of our bodies slapping against one another with every thrust we made. Partly because of some vague sense of pride at my stamina and partly because I'm an idiot I responded honestly.

"No, not yet," I said. Mom groaned and raised herself up on the toes of the foot she still had on the ground. My cock slipped from her pussy and a shiver ran through my hips as the cool night air in the shed hit my thoroughly soaked manhood.

"Mom!" I gasped, and jerked my hips up, only to be rewarded by the feeling of my cock's head sliding fruitlessly against my mom's skin.

Mom dropped her other leg to the floor and took a small step back. Her arms dropped from my shoulders as she did so, then one of her hands took my cock. "Sorry, Steven, you know the rules," she said.

"Fuck the rules," I said, taking a small step towards mom. I was all too aware that the shed was dark and full of terrors, and a misstep in my exposed state of dress could be a disaster. That's the only reason I didn't immediately charge at mom. "I want you," I added.

Mom let out a frustrated little growl and started walking slowly backwards, pumping my cock just as slowly as she did so. "We can't," she said. "It wouldn't be right."

"Why wouldn't it?" I asked. Mom was making a beeline backwards for the shed door, to escape and freedom.

"It just wouldn't," she said. I don't think either of us was convinced by that particular argument. "I'm sorry, Steven," she said, "but I won't let you fuck me."

I was taken aback by that particular statement. Mom made it sound like I would try to force myself on her. Horny though I was, she knew I would never do that.

Even as I thought that, mom's path backwards curved away from the door, and she started leading me by the cock over to the side wall of the old wooden shed. How she was navigating past all the hazards while walking backwards in the dark I'll never know.

"I mean," she went on, "I might not be able to stop you. You are bigger and stronger than me." That was overstating matters somewhat. I was only a few inches taller than mom and in a fist fight I feel like she would have held her own. "I guess if you absolutely had to have me, there wouldn't be much I could do," she went on, sounding equal parts resigned and horny. She shuffled another half step backwards towards the shed wall. "If you just grabbed me and shoved me against the wall, what could I do?" she asked, rhetorically. "If you took your big cock and rammed it into my pussy, how could I stop you?" she wondered aloud. "If you fucked me right here, right now, until I came all over your dick then what would- AGH!" she said. I'd been preparing to help her answer all those rhetorical questions when mom bumped into the shed wall. And that was when she dropped my cock and gave the squeal.

"Mom?" I asked, concerned. "What happened?"

Mom moved away from the wall of the shed, forcing me back a step. "Fucking fuck fuck fuckity fuck," she said. It was a sentiment that, I felt, didn't entirely answer my question. In the almost non-existent light I could just make out her fiddling with something behind her. "There's a god-fucking-damned splinter," she finally said after a few moments of fiddling, "in my god-damned-fucking ass!" At the final word she wrenched something away from her ass and flung it into the deepest darkest corner of the shed. I never saw the splinter, but I gather it was a beast.

I stood there, hard cock pointing at my mom and mom muttering about the splinter's questionable parentage. I couldn't help it. I laughed.

Mom's glare was mercifully invisible in the gloom, but I could feel it. I should have wilted under it. Instead I laughed harder.

"Oh, think it's funny do you?" asked mom. I could hear the amusement in her voice now that the splinter had been vanquished.

"No," I managed to say just before emitting another snort of laughter.

"Uh huh," mom said. I could just make out her arms crossed over her chest.

"S-sorry, mom," I managed to get out once I'd regained my composure. "How can I make it up to you?"

"Too late now, kiddo," replied mom. "The damage is done." I could just about see mom moving one hand behind her and rubbing her presumably sore ass.

"Want me to kiss it better?" I asked, more to be cheeky than anything.

To my surprise mom seemed to consider it a moment, then said "Okay!" and span around so her back was facing me. I mean, I say her back was facing me. But it wasn't her back I was interested in.

I sunk to my knees just as mom had not so many minutes ago, and with a similar goal in mind. I ran my hands up the backs of mom's long, smooth legs until they reached the end of the line and I was cupping one of her glorious ass cheeks in each hand. The skin was cool and soft and just begging to be kissed. So kiss it I did.

I raised myself up a bit so I was face-to-ass with my mom and planted a long, gentle kiss on one of her butt cheeks.

"Better?" I asked when my lips were no longer occupied.

"Mmm", moaned mom softly. "No."

"Yeah, I thought s- wait what?" I said, taken aback.