Pussy-Mom's Pussy

I was embarrassed. We had been sitting in this cat café for half an hour now, and Mom had done nothing but loudly proclaim her love of dogs - to visible dismay of the other customers and of the café owner, an old lady with a crooked spine and chillingly blue eyes. She had a look so strict that she could only have been a primary school teacher before opening this place.

We were here for my younger sister Ginnie's eighteenth birthday, and I think Ginnie chose this place to annoy Mom on purpose. I mean, Ginnie had always wanted a cat but Mom hated them. So now that Ginnie had finally become an adult, she treated Mom and me to a nice cup of coffee surrounded by purring, hissing cats. When I had turned eighteen three years ago, we simply went for dinner in a pizza place. If only Ginnie had made the same choice...

Here is what happened, at least as far as I can reconstruct. At some stage Ginnie thought it would be a good idea to lure one of the cats with a voluminous, red fur coat, to Mom. Because the cat fit so nicely with Mom's ginger hair, Ginnie giggled. The creature was not so appreciative of Ginnie's esthetic motivations, and immediately started to hiss once it was placed on Mom's lap. Mom, without even thinking for a moment, got up and tried to get the cat off of her. As a result, the creature was launched in a parabola flight through the small café, to land on a table where two old ladies were sitting. They screamed as their cups and cakes went rolling onto the floor.

Mom apologized a thousand times to them and to the owner as well, but I knew her too well to know that she would not also enjoy this a little bit. She was up to misdemeanor and Ginnie and I had had to apologize many times for her boundary crossing behaviors in the past. Luckily, nobody was hurt, and mom duly paid the damage.

However, as we got up to get out, Ginnie looking sad that her birthday party had ended in media res, the owner of the café grasped mom's arm. Mom was visibly surprised at the fire in the ladies' eyes.

"You, madam, should think more about how it is to be someone else."

"Someone else? Like whom? A cat?" mom answered with a disdain I knew she simply could not withhold.

"Indeed, like a cat. You cannot fix everything with money. Mister Wimpytail will need a week to recover from the stress."

"I find that hard to believe. Look, he is already having some intimate me-time."

Mister Wimpytail sat on a couch, his legs wide spread, licking himself clean.

"You did not treat him like a cat. You'll know how awful it is if you are not treated as what you are. Only then will you understand."

Mom shrugged her shoulders. "Whatever. Zach, Ginnie, let us go. This lady is giving me the creeps."

The old lady stood in the door way, slowly shaking her head, as we moved out. I swore I saw her mouth uttering some phrase that I could not make out.

Mom drove us to a star restaurant to make up for the ruined day. It sort of worked. Ginnie and I could not resist some giggles about mom's response to it all, although we felt bad for Mister Wimpytail too. Still, the words of the old lady had sounded more ominous than I'd have liked to admit at that moment.

Later that night, Ginnie went to her own house in town, while I stayed over at mom's. Dad was away for the weekend on a business trip, I had some time off college. Although mom was busy with her online shop, where she sold coffee machines for ridiculously expensive prices to companies, I think that mom appreciated me hanging around. I don't think mom thrives well if there is no one for her to boss around.

That evening, we decided to watch a movie together. First, mom let me pick one. So I just chose whatever French cinematographer people at college had been raving about. While I lay down on the couch, completely flat, mom kept sitting up as straight as if she was part of some royal family of the nineteenth century. She was so impeccably clothed too, with her little blazer and her satin scarf: she looked stiff and uptight. Always in control.

Anyway, I soon felt nervous as I realized that mom found this film a bunch of nonsense. Seen through her eyes I suddenly couldn't really recall what had drawn me to it either. A rich man dressed as a hobo got invited to a dinner of other rich people, so that he turned into a rich man pretending to be a hobo pretending to be a rich man. Mom just switched the television off at the moment when the entire dinner party decided to pretend to be hobo's. "Such nonsense. I am going to bed."

And that was that. I half thought of screaming that I was still watching the movie, but then why bother. Mom was right, it was a bunch of nonsense. That was the worst thing, mom was almost always right about what were doing wrong. It is hard to have such a disciplined mom at times.

With a deep sigh I rolled off the couch, while mom had already gone off to brush her teeth.

"Lights out, Zach!" she screamed from the bath room.

"I know, I know." I replied half way up the stairs, pausing in my step to go down again and switch them off. How did she know? She could not even see the living room.

That night, the strangest thing happened.

I remember well that I was dozing off after having watched a series on my smartphone, when I suddenly heard the door squeaking. Through my eye lids, I could discern a silhouette against the light in the hall.

"Who is that?"

No answer.

The figure started crouching towards me. I, still dizzy from sleepiness, tried to get my act together and sit straight up as it came closer and closer. My heart beat fast. I was sure I was being attacked. All reflexes started working, I was ready to get up and fight.

"Meow."

And again: "Meow."

It was mom. She now sat right next to my bed. "Me-ow."

Although it was too dark to see any details, there was no doubt. Mom was here in my room in the middle of the night pretending to be a cat. Now, this scenario was such an impossibility, that I almost considered just accepting that I was dreaming.

"Go away." I hissed, for ninety percent sure that this was a dream now.

"Meow." mom replied. Her pitch was much higher than usual, which actually resulted in quite a good imitation of a cat. She was really making an effort of taking a piss at me.

"Okay, enough." I said, and slung my legs off the edge of the bed. The moon light shone in through my curtains, illuminating patches of mom's white skin. She was not fully clothed: from what I could tell in the dark, her arms and legs appeared to be naked. When she moved her head a bit, I could tell that she was actually wearing cat ears. What was happening?

"Mom... Are you alright?" My mood switched from annoyed to concerned. I just hoped that she hadn't had a complete nervous breakdown.

Again, there was no reply. Instead, mom just leaned forward, and I felt the warm skin of her cheek brush past my leg. My God, she was really out of it.

In the dark, I got up, awkwardly walking past mom, who was on all fours on the floor. She looked over her shoulder as I passed by. I got her my bathrobes, which I sort of half threw over her shoulders.

"Mom, let's go back to your bedroom, yeah?" I tried, but as far as I could tell mom did not really register what I was saying. After some moments trying to find out how, I supported mom under her shoulders to stand up straight. My hands touched her warm soft skin, and my arms slid under her arm pits, which she had shaved to be completely smooth: it felt strangely intimate to hold mom like this.

She did some awkward wiggling movements in an attempt to escape from my grasp, but then ultimately she got up straight and slowly started acting like a human again.

I noticed that mom was almost naked. She seemed to be wearing a kind of lingerie body, but I tried to not to look at her. Too many patches of white skin were lighting up in the moon light. I pulled my bathrobe tighter around her.

Confused, mom shuffled towards my door. I could now see she was definitely wearing cat's ears, the ones you'd get for Halloween. She muttered a final 'meow', before she left my room and closed the door. I still stood there for quite some moments, trying to determine whether I should go after her or not.

The next morning, mom acted as if nothing had happened. She was already up and about, making calls for her web shop, sitting behind her laptop on the breakfast table. A pot of coffee was boiling.

When I walked in she was engaged in a heated conversation which she only interrupted to tell me not to throw my bathrobes in the middle of the hall. My jaw dropped.

"What the heck, mom?" I mouthed, assuming that she was pulling my leg. She wasn't. She just gestured quickly with her hands to tell me to get her some of the coffee and went back to her call.

After she hung up, she sent her fingers rattling over the key board of her laptop, while I tried to finish my bowl of cereals.

"Mom..." I began.

"Mmh mmh?"

"About last night... What the fuck?"

"Mind your language, Zach, this isn't a fraternity house."

I left my question hanging for a while in the hope that mom would start to explain what had happened. Again, she didn't.

"OK. Then just tell me... Why were you in my room last night dressed as a cat? "

The rattling stopped for a second as mom looked at me, pulling up an eye brow.

"The fuck, Zach? A cat? I have literally no clue what you are talking about."

That was that. I knew mom long enough to know that she wasn't joking. She had really forgotten what had happened. But how was that possible?

I was really worried about her mental health at this stage, but I told myself that she could still just be sleep walking or whatever. God knows what she and dad did in their bedroom: maybe this was just their routine and mom had slipped into her cat role half asleep or something. Still, it didn't really work out in my head and I decided to keep an eye on mom, to see if she was not going nuts.

Mom did not show any strange behavior during the day. She just sat there at her laptop, as usual, being productive. That night was Friday night, and with mom being her old self again, I decided it would be okay if I went out for drinks with some friends from high school who had remained living in this town after I had left. When I came home, all the lights were off in the house. I put my ear to the door of mom's bed room and heard her breathing quietly. All good.

It was at around two o' clock that I heard my door open again. And, again, I saw mom kneeling down on all fours and coming towards my bed.

"Meow."

Well, I'll be damned.

I switched on the light in the small globe that was next to my bed from ages ago, to confront mom with her awkward behavior. Perhaps I shouldn't have, though, for now I could really see what was going on.

Mom sat in the middle of my small room, on the red carpet, in a black, lace stretching body that left her arms and body naked. In her red, curly hair, she wore the cat ears she had on yesterday as well. With eye liner or something, she had even made the tip of her nose black, and she had also drawn some whiskers above her lips adorned with red lip stick. Around her neck hung a little bell, like the ones you'd see on cats in older movies to scare the birds away.

Most of these details, however, were lost on me, as I was first of flabbergasted at the obscenity of the sight. Mom was squatting, with her knees pointing outwards, her legs wide spread. The lace body stretched tightly over mom's curvaceous shapes, but its seams were stitched so that her pussy was fully visible. Through a circle shaped hole, I stared right at mom's puffy, slightly glistening vagina.

To say the least, this was not a sight I had been expecting to see.

To make things worse, mom's black lace body also left little to the imagination concerning her breasts. Two holes were left through which her nipples protruded, and these holes were large enough to see mom's pinkish aureolae and a part of her white breasts.

Mom just sat there, with her hands curled as into two little paws, staring intently at me. I stared back, not sure what to do. It goes without saying that I had never, never ever seen mom like this. Prudish mom, who would never let us into the bath room when she was showering. Even as kids. And now here she sat like... Like a complete slut, completely visible to her own son.

"Meow."

Mom's meowing shook me out of my trance. Switching the light off, I simply pulled my duvet off my bed and covered mom with it as good as I could, trying not to think about what I had just seen.

"Okay, mom, you are really, really confused. I will bring you to your room now."

I did my best not to touch mom's skin in any way, and wrapped her as tightly into the duvet as if she was a burrito. Luckily, mom cooperated and soon I had her back into her room again.

Not long after, however, my door opened again. Mom was back. On all fours. Fuck.

She held something in her mouth that she dropped at the edge of my bed. I had to turn on my light again to see that it was a kind of red package. I reached for it and picked it up. It was a pair of panties. Red, lace panties. Worn.

As I sat on the edge of my bed with this questionable gift in my hands, I watched how mom had started to lick her wrists, which she used to clean her neck. I still hoped I was dreaming, but I was fearing that I had entered a reality that was weirder than anything I could ever imagine.

Mom's hefty tits jiggled under her movements. Her nipples bounced off in all directions as she started shaking her head every now and then. When I noticed that mom was not paying much attention to me, I couldn't help staring at her. What was she doing? What was she playing cat for?

Then mom started to stretch, just like cat. She had walked around my room a bit, her large tits pointing down, until she was now with her ass in my direction. Her enormous white ass cheeks were separated by the lace of the body that crept into her butt crack. Mom's vagina was clearly visible again between her two strong and wide legs. She bent forward, stretching her arms, while keeping her ass in the air in my direction.

This was the moment I should have walked out. But I was too confused at what was happening, when a smell drifted towards me. A musky, earthy smell. I sniffed once, twice. Was it... I brought the panties to my nose and the smell intensified. I sniffed deeply, as I pressed the fabric against my nostrils. Mom. I was smelling mom.

I could not bear it. My hand slid in my pajama trousers, in my Kelvin Klein boxers, to be wrapped around my leaking, stiffening cock. I realized that this was perhaps the most awful thing to do in this situation where mom had apparently gone crazy, but the smell and the sight of mom's bulging, trimmed pussy between her upper legs did things to me that were beyond my control.

I jerked off to the sight of mom's stretching. She did multiple stretches, her ass cheeks gently trembling as she changed position, before she rolled on her back, her paws in the air. Finally, mom looked me in the eye, from below those stupid cat ears, and with lips touted under the whiskers she drew on her face. Interlocking our gazes, I felt my tempo building. As I looked at her tits that had sagged sideways under their weight, her almost purplish nipples that stood stiff through the holes in the lace, I was starting to come. Within long, I had filled my boxers with my cum and just sat there shaking on the edge of the bed.

This time, I did not have to carry mom out. After giving me a playful smile, she crawled out of my room. Only now did I notice that she had tail too, that dragged over the floor behind her.

She left the panties in my room.

The next morning, I did not know what to say to mom. I felt ashamed and stained, as if I could never be a normal human again. However, mom again appeared to have not remembered at all what had happened the night before.

When I came in, she had just finished a news paper and was getting up to go out and do groceries.

"Morning, Zach. Looking tired. You shouldn't go to bed so late." I checked her eyes for a hint of sarcasm, but there was none. "Anyway, I will be back in an hour. I know it is weekend, but one of the companies down town will drop by in the afternoon to check out which machines we have in the show room in the garage. So I'll be busy today. Tonight, maybe you cook?"

And she was off.

I sat at breakfast with two impulses fighting one another in my head. The first was one of utter guilt and a wish to repent for cumming over the sight of mom's ass. The other was, now that mom appeared to not realize what had happened, to sneak up to my room and sniff her panties again. And pray that she would return at night.

The latter impulse won. Within moments I found myself on my bed pulling my cock with mom's soft panties stretched over my face. I had discovered, by day light, that there was a small, white stain that mom's pussy had left. Smelling it, the musky smell of yesterday returned and sent me over the edge almost immediately.

As these things go, later that afternoon, guilt started to win from lust. I just sat there waiting for mom to come back, feeling like I should make up to her somehow but not knowing how to.

When she did return, she had little time. The guy from the company was coming over in a couple of minutes, so I had to stay quiet. I sat down with my laptop right next to the garage where mom had her little show room for the machines she sold, hoping I could get some work done.

The gentleman sounded nice enough, and soon I lost track of what mom and he were saying through the door, which was thick enough to muffle their voices. However, my ears perked up when I felt like I heard something out of the order. The tempo of the conversation had shifted. What was it?

Short, high pitched sounds. Then the man, with stuttering phrases, confused. I knew better than to just swing open the door to see what was going on - mom would not forgive me if I came in between business. But what I heard made me worried. The man sounded more awkward by the second, so I just grabbed a tray of cookies that I saw in the kitchen, to feign the excuse of bringing them some.

When I opened the door, I was greeted by an enthusiastic "meow" from mom. She had knelt down in the middle of the garage, and appeared to be chasing a bee that must have gotten in there through the door to the garden. The man, a balding guy in his mid forties, was looking helplessly at her, then at me, his eyes beckoning me to explain what the hell was going on.

"Sir." I tried. "You want a cookie?"

The man took one.

"Ma'am, here... is she?" he began.

I tried to save what I could for mom.

"Oh, this is part of our... business plan." I made up as I went along. "Stay playful. We take that quite literally."

"I see, but... I may be too old fashioned, but... I simply don't understand..."

"You are not supposed to understand. That is how we stay a step ahead of the game." I tried. "Right, Gloria?"

Hearing her name shook mom out of her strange behavior. She looked up confused. She pulled at her blazer, straightened her hair, and rose to her two feet again.

"I am sorry. Meow. Ehm..." she cleared her throat. "Where were we?"

The man slowly backed towards the exit in the front door of the garage. "It was very nice meeting you all, and I will give your machines a thought. I am just not sure whether it is what we are looking for."

Mom was back at it again: "Nonsense, of course you are looking for these machines. They can make any coffee you like. Good coffee."

Nervously looking over his back, the man nevertheless remained still at mom's confident tone.

"Fuck off...." mom hissed through her teeth, so soft that only I could hear it. "You are messing this up."

If she only knew, I thought, that I had just saved her ass, while I silently left the garage.