Rehearsal with Mom

My desire for you..., I briefly ponder her meaning, then dismiss my first conclusion. No, she's speaking as Margot. But, though she doesn't know it, I realize my immoral affection is the key to this scene. That twisted, comfortable, sexy, scary feeling is the catalyst to perfecting Sebastian's sentiment toward his treacherous, adulterous, murderous mistress. For the rest of our mother-son rehearsal, I ride the wrongful ardor to a very convincing performance.

The snatch, the pull, the kiss. Perfect. My forceful tongue in Mom's mouth. Margot's resistance, the pull back of her neck and the pushing off against my chest. My persistence, grabbing mom's chin in one hand and holding her lips to mine, my other hand crushing her ever so soft body against mine. I feel Mom's body go rigid and then relax, signaling Mrs. Delacroix's eventual and gradual surrender.

She moans and kisses me back, our tongues gliding against each other's like naked skin on silk sheets. She tastes like wine. She feels like right as she melts into me. I am lost in the depths of mom's intoxicating aura, the way her sultry, raspy voice and sensual body respond to my every movement and touch. I almost let it slip from my mind that we're just rehearsing a scene, until Margot snatches her body away and speaks.

"You would do anything for me, huh, Poole?" Mrs. Delacroix scoffs, feigning her usual contempt. I transition smoothly from my incestuous trance state to my role, albeit with a prominent hard-on jutting out from the fabric of my pants.

"Oh, yes," I breath, looking mom in her majestic eyes. Mrs. Delacroix traces a flirty finger across my chest, dragging it past my shoulder as she saunters around me. I turn toward her as she sits on the top of her large desk, legs crossed, kicking out playfully with her sexy, stockinged legs and her pointed heels.

"Then show me. Take off your shirt, Mr. Poole." I quickly and eagerly obey, showing Sebastian's immaturity and excitement. He believes he's finally gonna get what he wants.

Margot chuckles victoriously as I snatch off my shirt, baring the rest of my glorious, chiseled upper body. My cock is poking out and Mom glances down at it but doesn't react. "Mmm, you'd do whatever I say wouldn't you?"

"Yes," I breath as I come closer, placing my hands on the desk close beside Mom's butt.

She leans back and says, "then kiss me."

I smile, and lean forward, going in for the sanctioned kiss. But she stops me with a finger to my lips. "Not on those lips." Mom smirks the sexiest smirk I have ever seen, eyes dangerous. "Time to grow up, kiddie Poole."

I look Mom up and down almost in disbelief, contemplating whether to continue the scene, even as Sebastian would contemplate whether he's really man enough to kiss Mrs. Delacroix's divine pussylips.

"What are you waiting for darling? I don't have all night. I have to get back home to my husband." The mention of Adrien Delacroix fills Sebastian with distaste and an urge to show his mistress that he can satisfy her better than her husband can. Mrs. Delacroix leans back on her hands, legs still crossed tightly, feigning boredom, her expression clearly conveying the message, If you want me, take me, or else, fuck off.

Sebastian, intimidated by his mistress, me, hesitant and nervous about performing the rest of this provocative scene with my mother. I reach a shaky hand underneath mom's knee, lift it off her other leg and set it aside. Margaux smiles like she's impressed as I separate her long legs for her.

Okay, I guess we're doing this, I think to myself as my heart pounds in my chest. I slowly slide my hands up my mom's legs while looking in her lusty gray eyes. Mom purrs and nips the corner of her lower lip as I feel my way up her warm, fleshy thighs. Up, all the way up, until I have my hands on the thin wisp of a waistband on Mom's panties. I hook my fingers in and look her in the eye. "Please," I almost whisper, revealing Sebastian's desperation to serve his mistress.

"Please?" she repeats, mocking. "I need you to be a man, Bastian. A man takes what he wants, doesn't he? Do you think Adrien ever asks?" Margot taunts Sebastian, and the name 'Adrien' angers him. I use my strength to lift Mom's ass up off the desktop and pull her panties off her hips, down her thighs, and past her heels. Instead of Margot's sexy, red G-string, I hold in my hands mom's nude, nylon thong, damp with warm sweat. Mom's panties are in my hand!

I want nothing more than to take a whiff of Mom's weightless, delightfully saturated panties, but the script demands that I toss them away, and I do. Mom then clears the desk, scattering papers and items all over the floor and lies on her back atop the desk. "Oh, yeah, I like this side of you!" Mom continues, obviously expecting me to continue too, and so I do.

I lift the hem of Mom's flowy dress above her hips with more ease than Sebastian would do Margot's tight pencil skirt. And instead of seeing a protective genital guard between Isabella Monroe's legs, I see Mom's bare, clean shaven pussy. A glorious sight indeed! Her clitoral hood is pierced though with a little silver baton and the tiny pink bead at her crown is stiff and exposed. Mom's outer lips are a little puffy, but they don't really hide her delicate inner lips, thin, floral, darker than the rest of her skin, and glistening. Mom's pussy is wet!

I don't have as much time as I need to appreciate the sheer beauty of mom's godly pussy, nor to decipher the meaning of her wetness. I'm supposed to be kissing Mrs. Delacroix's cunt. I lift Mom's left leg up by the knee, which would block the view of Isabella's covered pussy from the camera. And then I dive between Mom's legs with my face and smack my lips, making pussy eating noises a half inch away from my mother's gorgeous vagina.

Mom moans, arching her back, sighs, and squirms, expertly portraying receiving oral sex, like she had many times in her career. She smells so delicious! With every writhing of mom's body, my nose inhales another whiff of the heavenly scent of mom's sex, and more than once, my nose or lip glances her delicate flesh.

"Mmm, yes, I love the way you serve me," Mom moans, and then cups the back of my head. It is in the script, but I'm still surprised when she does it because it causes my lips to mash into her genitals. I turned my head aside, kissing the junction of Mom's thigh and mons. I continue to act out the somewhat lengthy oral sex scene, Mom moaning sexily, my cock throbbing, my pants soaking up the precum, her wetness coating my cheek, the smell intoxicating me and causing me to think bad thoughts. What if mom wants me to really lick her pussy? What if she feels the same way I do? Why else would she be pulling my head into her crotch?

After building up the courage for a minute, I slowly turn my head, the corner of my lips meeting the puff of Mom's outer lips. No objection. Heart leaping inside my chest, arms shakily gripping Mom's sweaty thighs, I turn my head the last few degrees and let my tongue slip out, tasting the slightly tart savor of her motherly sex. I hear mom squeak and feel her jolt backward. I jerk my head back, knowing I just fucked up.

"Janice!? What're you still doing here!?"

Mom was simply continuing the scene, which calls for Mrs. Delacroix's secretary to enter the office and catch us. I snap my head around to glare at the invisible intruder.

"And, scene! Excellent job, Shawn!" My mom sits up and pushes the bottom of her dress down to cover her glory, then hops off the desk and retrieves her delicate panties. "I think you got it, baby boy. That was awesome! You were so sexy, but nervous and scared, so damn hot! You're about to kill it tomorrow. Just watch."

The whole time, I was in a stupor. Did she think that was a mistake? Are we going to address her wetness and my hardness and my tongue on her slit? Did that just happen!? My mind is reeling as Mom raves about my performance all the way out the building and to her car, me half-heartedly nodding and chuckling my agreement. I help Mom into her car and watch her pull off.

"What the hell was that?" I say to myself when I get into my car. "That was so hot." I drive all the way home replaying the scenario in my head. I draw the conclusion that mom is simply comfortable with her body, especially when it comes to our profession, that she was only wet because Margot would have been, and that she didn't want to shame me for what she perceived to be simply an embarrassing slip of the tongue.

But I can't stop thinking about it. The smell. The taste. The texture. Mom's dirty moans and scandalous physical reactions. My hard cock and the patch of wet I created in the front of my slacks. I treasure our secret little rehearsal, sure we would never speak of it again, more sure it would never happen again.

*****

The next morning comes. I completely demolish the scene. The end of the scene brings audible cheers out of the two producers, a sigh of relief to the casting director and even compels a compliment from the stone-faced Isabella Monroe. "Nice recovery, Shawn." High praise from a goddess such as her. I'm elated.

Little does everyone know, I have a twisted little secret weapon, lust for my mother. All I did was imagine doing all those things to my mother in front of the crowd, amplifying the sexual tension and sensuality, but also the danger and fear of it.

We shoot a few more scenes and then wrap up. I had searched for Mom in the crowd, but she never showed up. I worry that last night's events had a negative effect she didn't want to admit. An effect so awful Mom can't stand to see me perform the scene she helped me to perfect. So that night, I call Mom and tell her I'm on my way to her house.

When I get there, I tell her all about my successful day at work and she congratulates me. She seems proud like she always has been, no hint of awkwardness. But still, I know the elephant in the room still needs to be addressed. "Umm, so Mom, about our rehearsal...," I start and trail off. She looks at me expectantly. "I uh, wanted to apologize for what I did, y'know, with my..., mouth." It's difficult to speak, my mouth is dry, my feet, and hands are cold, and I can't look Mom in the eye.

"It's okay, Shawn. I know it was a mistake. Stuff like that happens all the time. I can't count how many times I grazed a prick or had my boobs or my cooch brushed or my assho-" I look up sharply in surprise and Mom catches herself, resets, then continued. "Well, let's just say I'm used to professional error. Don't worry about it, really, there's no shame."

I am relieved, really, that Mom isn't disgusted by what I did, that our relationship won't be damaged because of my little 'slip.' But there's a nagging in the back of my mind - disappointment. Somewhere inside me, I want Mama to know I licked her on purpose, and I want to know how she felt about it. Surely then she'd be completely grossed out. She'd know I was a disgusting pervert and she'd regard me with contempt...

But what if she didn't?

I would marinate on my moral quandary often, especially after work. There are two more intimate scenes between Sebastian and Margot where he performs cunnilingus on her, loving her and worshiping her and breaking down the iron barrier guarding her heart. For both scenes, I imagine I'm licking Mom again. The first time is tentative, like I know I'm making a mistake. The second time though, I indulge.

On my knees, underneath a dress behind a bent over Isabella Monroe, I close my eyes and moan into her panty-clad ass, pretending I'm servicing my own mother. The sick feeling has my insides tender, weak, and shaky. Everyone is watching in complete approval of my perfectly perverse actions. I caress and squeeze Isabella's thighs, imagining it's Mama who moans zealously in return.

After a cut is called and after the director announces we're finished for the day, I again spot my mother among the crew. She looks awesome in her blue jeans, skintight to show her long, shapely legs, ripped to reveal bits of smooth, succulent brown skin. Her long sleeve top is navy, tight and impossible to button up all the way, revealing plenty of cleavage. I blush as if her piercing, silver eyes can see through to the perversion in my soul. But I inhale a breath to shake it off, putting on a poker face as I approach her.

"Great scene, baby," she says as she goes for a hug. I put my arms around mom's waist, squeeze her hard and exhale, then inhale the scent of her hair from beside her neck. It smells so good and feels so right. As we pull away, before I know what I'm even doing, I plant a soft kiss right on mom's lips. Mom quickly looks around us to see no one is paying attention and then smiles.

"I learned from the best," I say quickly, not wanting to dwell on the kiss that accidentally leapt out of my heart. I reluctantly take my hands off Mom's curvy hips and she lets hers fall away from around my shoulders.

Mom chuckles, "Oh, you've studied some of my lesbian scenes?"

I laugh nervously. "No. I meant our," I look around again to see that no one's close, then whisper, "our rehearsal. It made me feel a lot more comfortable with these scenes. So, thank you."

"You're welcome sweetheart. Believe me, it was all my pleasure..., uh, y'know, to help you get it, get the scene right." Freudian slip? Mom is hardly the nervous type. She always says just what she means. So does she mean...?

Mom and I talk for a while about the story, the cast and crew, and Hollywood life for a long time, just bonding. It starts to get late and everyone's heading out, so we decide to continue our conversation at her house. I follow her home and drive through the gates of her gorgeous, enormous estate. Her house is about three times the size of mine, and my house is not considered small by any stretch of the imagination.

Mom's place is contemporary styled, with a pool outside tan and white walls which are adorned with gold light fixtures, large glass windows all over with both downstairs and upstairs patios. It just amazes me what marketing your sexuality can do for you and I'm inspired in a new way. I'm now understanding Mom and her expertise in a different light. From the inside instead of the outside. That if you can become comfortable enough with your sexuality to share it with the world, there is nothing you don't deserve.

Mom and I have a conversation along this line as we enter her home. We talk and talk and talk. Mom whips up a quick snack and I make us drinks. We sit at her built-in bar and talk about her career, then my career and then my current project, Enchantress Delacroix, and then we discuss the upcoming scenes. We refill our drinks a couple times, then sip until our glasses are empty again, then repeat.

"So, I think the next scene is the one at the Governor's Mansion, right?" Mom asks.

"Well, we have a few more scenes before that one but it is the next sex scene."

Mom smiles her charming smile. "You nervous about it?" she asks.

"A little bit but I'll manage," I shrug. "I have a secret weapon."

"Oh, really? What is it?" Mom leans closer, her elbow on the bar, smiling wildly, girlishly, almost flirty.

"You," I say simply. I've had enough to drink at this point that my inhibitions are lowered, though I wouldn't say I'm drunk. I just feel good. Confident. Carefree. "You're my secret weapon."

Mom smiles and bats her eyelashes. "How so?"

"Well, during those scenes, I just think of you." I smile right at Mom as she smiles bigger.

"Awww, that's so sweet, baby," she gushes and puts her hand on my thigh. "When your face is in Isabella's crotch, you think of me?" I nod unashamedly. She licks her luscious lips. "So, what are you gonna do for the mansion scene? We've only rehearsed oral sex. What about the first intercourse scene?"

"I think I'll manage," I say, unable to connect certain dots due to alcohol. "I'll just use my imagination."

"Yeah, but..., it helps when you have something to draw from. I think it would be better to do a dry run..., make certain you're ready." Mom's eyes are a bit flirty and her hand lazily caresses my thigh.

"I..., oh, okay, yeah." Realization hits me. I get to rehearse another steamy scene with my sexy ass mother.

We head upstairs to the second-floor patio. My steps are a little wavier than I expected, but I'm not drunk. I know I'm not because I can recite my lines and open the scene perfectly.

Thankfully, this scene mimics the book almost verbatim, so Mom has no trouble keeping up.

Sebastian and Margot attend a fund raiser held at the Governor's Mansion. After all the speeches are done and the food has been served, Mrs. Delacroix steps away from the party, finding a corner of the huge house to be alone, a bedroom on the third floor with a balcony. She's standing on the balcony, hands on the railing, overlooking the empty courtyard in the back of the mansion.

This is where Sebastian finds her, and places his hands on her hips, kissing her gently on the neck. Instead of a sharp tuxedo and ball gown, I'm wearing slacks and a button-down shirt and mom's in her tight jeans and button down top. I place my hands on her hips and kiss her gently on the neck.

"It looks like Governor Brodsky's gonna take the bribe," mom says. I'm distracted by my infatuation, and continue kissing her neck, growing more sensual and hungry. "Do you hear me, Bastian? We may get away with this yet."

"Yes," I finally whisper in her ear, "looks like were in the clear. As long as we hold evidence of his dealings in Japan, he'll keep quiet about the kidnappings. We're safe." I kiss her neck again and breath into her ear. "We're more than safe. We're invincible. No one fucks with us, Margot."

Margot hums an unsure agreement. I then nip at her ear softly, bringing a giggle out of my mistress. "My husband is at this party, my love, probably looking for me."

"Then let him look. Hell, let him find us for all I give a shit." I continue my hearty seduction, slurping mom's earlobe between my wet lips and then slipping my tongue out into her ear.

Margot enjoys it briefly, sighing, then turns around in my arms, trying to push me away but I hold our bodies together. "Bastian, we can't do this. Not here. Anybody could walk in on us."

"Let them," I say playfully. "You like to be watched, remember. I watched you with Adrien, maybe it's his turn to be the spectator." I begin to kiss my reluctant mother, Mrs. Delacroix, holding her lips to mine by her chin.

Sebastian is supposed to slip the straps of Margot's gown off her shoulders, causing the bodice to bunch around her hips. Instead, I work the buttons of Mom's top. She stays in character. I'm unsure how much of this scene she's willing to play, but I make up my mind that it is up to her to stop me. Once all the buttons are undone and I untuck mom's shirt from her jeans, slowly separate the halves and peel it off her shoulders, then down her arms. There is no bra underneath.

Mom's breasts are the most lovely and real thing I had ever set my eyes on, (maybe excepting her gorgeous netherlips.) They're large, brown globes of soft, full flesh that droop moderately, ever so seductively. The skin near the top feature faint lines, evidencing their growth and the pull of gravity over the years. Her dark, dark areolas are textured and her budding nipples pop prominently off her skin. They're absolutely decadent, like dark chocolate kisses. I almost fall out of character as I stare at mama's magnificent tits.

"Bastian, no, not here," Margot pleads in a hushed tone as I kiss her neck, cheek and earlobe, hands caressing her exposed back. "We'll be caught. My husband-" I cover her lips with mine and kiss her. Her hands try to cover her tits (as Margot would have tried to pull her dress back up.) I stop her attempt at modesty, pushing her hands down and directing them below my belt buckle.