Sex Club Stand In Pt. 04

Story Info
The last night at the sex club starts with a bang... or two.
13.1k words
4.65
25.5k
55
5

Part 4 of the 4 part series

Updated 06/09/2023
Created 04/03/2019
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

Sex Club Stand In PT4

***

Author's Note: All characters in this story are at least 18 years of age, and, even in role play, are "playing" characters at least 18 years of age.

***

The next morning was surprisingly not awkward. I think it was just the volume of events. I mean, sure, on the one hand, I felt amazing because I got the world's most incredible handjob from my Mom last night. But on the other hand, the last two days didn't compare in sheer volume to the over 18 years of her just being, Mom, with a capital "M". So yeah, I was riding high on yesterday having been the most amazing day of my life, and definitely looking forward to whatever was going to happen on our second day; but I was also just, having breakfast with my Mom.

She was funny, charming, tender, and, not to put too fine a point on it, but Motherly. She doted over what clothes I was wearing that day, and if I was going to change when we went back to the sex club later that night. She talked about, and mildly teased me about "my new friend"; which was how she was referring to the woman who'd pretended to be my Aunt while I'd fucked her in front of the whole club. And somehow, through it all, she made it all seem like things were still normal. And, like before, it worked. Mom acted like stuff was normal, and that somehow made it normal.

So, we finished breakfast. Then she flipped through hotel pamphlets and gushed over local zoos and all the things she wished we had time for; and in the end, she convinced me to spend the morning shopping with her in exchange for lunch out and, as she put it, "the pleasure of her company". Full disclosure, she wasn't wrong.

We ended up spending most of the day dress shopping. Mom treated to lunch, she treated to snacks, and eventually she treated to dinner. At some point generic dress shopping became searching for just the right dress to wear to my graduation party in a couple of weeks, but, when the company is good, the time flys, and the company was great. In the end, Mom found a dress that was sexy because her body looked amazing in it, while also being "PTA" enough that she could wear it to the party, or a school event, or even church if she wanted. It was white, with a very pretty floral pattern; and though it dipped low enough to show cleavage, Mom's ample breasts made that seem like a necessity in all her dresses. Like, if they didn't have an opening to breath through, her breasts would just somehow explode out of any dress she was wearing. The dress was near to ankle length, and it did that thing where if she did a little spin, the bottom would flair out and lift up as she spun. I know this for a fact, because, Mom being Mom, tested the theory, and let out a fun little laugh as she did.

I was a little surprised when, at check-out, Mom brought up multiple, identical copies of the dress, and bought them all. But, she just hand waved it, and told me that it was a thing that her and Dad did with outfits of hers all the time.

Now, we actually had the dress before dinner, but after buying it, Mom insisted on going back to all the pretty places that we'd been through in the course of our day, and taking selfies in her new dress. We must have taken a hundred pictures of her in that dress. Standing in front of water fountains, posing at the park, in front of statues; everywhere. She mostly took selfies, but she had me take a bunch too, and, of course, she made me take those photos, both of her, and with her.

She put a bunch of the photos up on her social media sites, even making her favorite picture her profile pic on a couple of them. Later, at dinner, she asked for my phone, and, with a very suspicious smile and the words "never you mind", she proceeded to not only make that photo her picture in my contacts; but she went so far as to call herself while holding my phone to make sure that the picture came up when she called. Once she was satisfied with... whatever all that was, she returned my phone to me.

After dinner, I started to get a sensation of butterflies, anxiety, excitement, and dread. It was a mixed bag of looking forward to what was probably going to be the second most exciting night of my life, and deep worry about both it, and my general inexperience. After all, my misreading the situation may have led to everything that happened the previous night, but it had also done so accidentally, and I was still super unsure about an awful lot of it.

Yet, as confused as I thought I was, I was somehow even more confused when my Mom went into the bathroom to get changed for the fetish club, only to come out 45 minutes later with a sexier hair style and more meticulous make-up, but otherwise dressed exactly the same. She was even still wearing that dress! You know, the one she could get away with in a PTA meeting or a library. It uh... it didn't exactly seem like a great match for a sex club.

I explained my confusion, and, suspiciously, Mom blushed a little. Though, she actually seemed weirdly happy that I was confused; liked she'd been hoping to surprise me and had succeeded. "I'll explain in the car", she said. Then she advised me to hurry up and get ready now that the bathroom was available. I did not need 45 minutes to get ready, so a quick shower and change of clothes later, we were on our way.

The club honestly wasn't that far. While it had taken many hours to get there the first day, Mom chose our hotel based on her desire to see the local sights and go to the club, so it was set nicely between the club and a major tourist spot, with only about a 15 minute drive to get to either location. Once we were on our way I asked Mom about, what seemed like an insanely conservative outfit choice on her part, and was rewarded with an answer that managed to balance simple logic and insidious plotting.

On our short drive, Mom explained that, while the previous night had been both an accident and a shock, we had both ended up really enjoying ourselves. In fact, she admitted, she had honestly really gotten into it. She confessed to me that her and Dad got up to all kinds of scenes and role plays, and Mother/Son stuff was on that list; but that it was one thing to pretend at a taboo act, and quite another to know that your Son was on the other side of a door listening to you getting fucked.

I gulped, blushed, felt a burning sensation fill my head up, and then did my best to get over it, or at least fake getting over it, as she continued. "So..." she said. Mom then proceeded to explain that, on the first night, she was dressed up like a slutty hot-wife, looking to get laid. But, since the role that we were playing had changed (no pun intended), she figured a change in her look was appropriate.

The truth was, our "pretending" to be Mom and Son had been a huge hit the previous night. So, now that I thought about it, Mom showing up dressed like an ordinary, everyday Mom (albeit a fucking gorgeous one), was probably a crazy-good idea. For the people who liked what we did the night before, it would be sexier than any lingerie.

Right, cool, that all checked out. But then she explained a little more, and we got the "insidious" part. Because, while everything Mom had said was true, she then went on to explain that there was a second, more secret element to it.

As she said it, she glanced at me out of the corner of her eye as she drove, and flashed me a wicked grin. She seemed to wait a second to see if I had figured out, whatever "it" was, and when I just kept waiting, she seemed doubly pleased with herself as she continued to explain.

Mom then, casual as could be, explained that anything and everything that she did that night, would happen in the dress she was wearing. Which... yeah. Of course. But, as she kept explaining, it slowly dawned on me, and my blush got steadily worse as the heat in my head grew to an inferno.

Mom spelled out for me what I had failed to put together, which was, my memories of tonight would all be about her in this dress. And, if I ever had a moment where I wasn't remembering what that looked like, I would be reminded of it anytime I went online and saw one of her social media profiles. I would be reminded of it every time someone liked, shared, or commented on one of the hundreds of pics we'd taken today. I would get a visual reminder every time that I texted or called Mom, and when she texted or called me, my phone would be filled with a photo of her smiling in the dress that she wore to the sex club "that time". Then, just to put the cherry on the sundae, it was, of course, the dress that she had bought specifically to wear to a party that I would be at with all of my friends in a couple of weeks. She'd be laughing, and flirting, and being a gracious hostess while standing beside the guys she'd been pretending were fucking her tonight! Holy shit!

I looked up to realize that we had actually arrived at the club, and Mom was pulling into a parking space. I looked at her, hoping that the fact that it was night time would help to hide my blush, and I gently broke the news to her that, "Mom... that's kind of evil." But when I said it, she just beamed. She smiled brightly, and quipped, "I know, right!". Then she gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and got out of the car, calling after me to, "Come on honey", as she excitedly began up the path to the club. I caught up to her a moment later, and she was still looking delighted as she looped her arm in mine, and said, "Shall we?".

Club might be a misleading term. After all, there was no band, no bar, heck, no alcohol allowed (consider how important consent is in a place where you can safely enact any fantasy, including a rape fantasy). The exterior was nondescript, and when you first entered, it was a small, plain white area with a little greeting table, a hostess stand, complete with hostess, was behind that, and a set of double doors with blacked-out windows were behind the stand.

Sitting at the table tonight was the woman who had been so keen to pretend she was my Aunt the night before. She greeted us warmly, and asked for our ID. Like before, the age difference or same last name didn't even merit a blink, since everyone thought we were a married couple playing at Mom and Son. This time though, knowing that in advance, my "Aunt" commented on how hot she thought the age difference was, since it meant that us being Mom and Son could have actually been possible. If she only knew... However, I was kind of sad to learn that the only play partner I'd had from the previous night (that I hadn't brought with me), was not going to be in the club tonight because she'd volunteered to work the door.

My "Aunt" took my Mom's hand for a moment, and told her that she had really been looking forward to spending some time with both of us, and in reply, Mom smiled back. Then, Mom told her that, while we lived pretty far away, and this weekend was spent, she would like that too; and then from her purse, Mom produced a business card that she tucked into the bra of my "Aunt". I uh... I did not know before that exact moment that my Mom was bi. Or that she had business cards that were just for hook-ups. Or that Mom and I would ever see any of these people ever again; and so just like that, my night was off to a hell of a start!

Mom and I both got our, over-18, stamp of approval, and soon we were through the doors and into the club proper. The club itself did have music, but not a live DJ or anything; just a nice sound system. The "main" room was very large, and consisted of a variety of "stations" where there was bondage equipment, such as crosses, cages, and tables for tying people down, that were meant for people to act out scenes or just have random bits of fun. Down the back of the room was an open door that led into an only slightly smaller room that was basically just an extension of the first. More stations, more room to play. To the right was a medium sized room that looked like it came from a house. It had couches and chairs all gathered around tables with bookshelves and other decor in the background. This was where Mom and I had started the night before, and it was where we headed now. Of course, off of that, a large room with no equipment, just a few couches and tables. And from there the club broke off into hallways and private rooms for people who needed beds or just wanted some privacy... usually the first one. People here tended to be over their shyness.

As we moved to a couch, my Mom, ever the social butterfly, started mingling with people. It was, honestly, a little surreal. See, people were dressed in every sexy way you can imagine. Corsets were very popular, but anything slutty, sexual, or seductive would do. In fact, many of those who had already started playing, or just enjoyed the attention, were already topless. Yet, amidst all that leather, lace, and slut-wear, Mom was somehow standing out.

We were no longer playing husband and wife, we were now playing a husband and wife who were playing Mother and Son. So, whenever Mom introduced us, she introduced herself as Misses (our last name), and then introduced me as her Son, and gave my first name along with it. At first, I was shocked that she was using our real names, since that was really abnormal, but, I quickly caught on that we'd used different names before, and so, this would just seem like a new, also made up name. The effect though, was that Mom was dressed exactly perfectly. She was wearing a simple, but pretty "housewife" dress, and amidst all the submissives, pain sluts, and dominant women with whips, she was shining; as exactly the object of lust that she'd set out to be.

That said, I was pretty sure the name thing was for my benefit, and, honestly, it was working. Before, we'd been pretending to be married so Mom could sneak off with someone and get laid in private. But now... Now I was watching Mom, dressed like Mom, just, kind of BEING Mom. She was using her normal tone of voice, calling me by my real name, and the whole time everyone who talked to her was calling her the exact thing that all my friends called her. It was unreal. And it didn't get any easier as the night went on. Because the longer we were there, the more playing and moaning could be seen and heard, and the more flirty Mom got with people.

There were a couple of times that guys came up to me, like the night before, and asked if they could, you know, "do stuff" with Mom, but this time she wasn't playing my wife. So both times it happened she shot them down with feigned shock, saying, "What a thing to ask a Son about his Mother. Honestly!" Then she would shoo them away, and tell them to go back to their seats and think about what they'd done. She did it with such good humor that no one seemed hurt or offended. In fact, both times, the guys laughed and hung their heads saying "Sorry Mrs. (our last name)", before heading back to their seats.

But, just like last time, there came a point where Mom was ready to stop talking, and start doing. At one point, she was talking with multiple guys, and they were hinting that several of them had been the ones who had gone into the back room before to pretend they were my horny friends. But now Mom wasn't shooting anyone down. She wasn't chiding anyone. If anything, she was flirting back pretty heavily. Then, everything changed on a dime.

One of the guys asked if she would be up for the same thing that happened last night, and in reply, Mom said, "Close... but not quite". Then Mom looked at me, and called me over to sit beside her. I had been sitting on a couch opposite her so I could try to look around the room and pretend I wasn't staring at her the whole time. Once I was beside her, Mom beckoned some of the people who'd been gathering around her, hoping for a chance to spend some time with her, to come a little closer. Then, with me right there, she told them; "I had a..." and then she paused, and gave a little shudder of pleasure that had me awkwardly adjusting the way I'd been sitting. "...simply wonderful time last night. I really did. But last night was only my Son's first time here, and he went from sitting with his Mom at a new place, to hearing you boys gang-banging me in the next room, with almost nothing in between. And, as PLEASURABLE as the experience was for me... I think we need to go slower this time. Or at least, start slower."

In our little corner of the club, everyone was holding their breath, and hanging on "Mrs. (our last name)'s" every word, myself included. "So..." She said, after a long, very dramatic pause. "This time I'd like to take some time to introduce him to what goes on here, just a little slower. That means," she said, turning to look at me and placing one hand on my knee. "... that he and I are going to go into the room TOGETHER this time; and I need some volunteers who are interested in playing the roles of his friends, and helping me to, SLOWLY... show him the kinds of things that a horny Mom can get up to here."

"So," she said, looking back at her little gathering of admirers. "If any of you think you can take instruction well, and play the game the way that we want to play it; Well..." Then Mom stood up, beckoned me to follow, and once I was on my feet she glanced over her shoulder at the gathered men and told them, "...feel free to follow".

I swear to all that is holy and unholy, that I had no idea any of that would happen! But then Mom took my hand and walked to one of the private rooms, and, god help me, I followed without question. I wasn't the only one either. At least 15 people, 12 of whom were guys, tried to cram into the room with us, but after the first five, Mom held up a hand to the chest of the 6th guy and stopped him, and by proxy, the line behind him. "Sorry dears, but, like I said, this is his first time seeing his Mother like this, so, this time, I'll be stopping at 5..." Then she gave a sexy little wink and added, "Next time however..." Then she blew a kiss, and closed the door to the sound of people groaning in frustration and disappointment.

The little room was a decent size, with a bed right in the middle of it. But, like my bedroom at home, a room being a good size, and a room comfortably fitting 6 grown men and my Mom, were not the same thing. Wherever Mom walked, people had to move out of her way, but no one seemed to mind. I was suddenly painfully aware that every pair of eyes was tracing up Mom's long legs and over her perfect ass as she walked away from us, towards the middle of the room. I was equally aware that when she turned around, and gave us a smile, that those same eyes kept moving back and forth between her lovely face, and her big tits.

To start, Mom reintroduced herself as Misses (our last name), reintroduced me as her Son, and gave my real first name, and then she informed the guys that she would be giving them their play names. And, as a couple of guys looked back at the door where almost a dozen other people had just been turned away per my Mom's requirements, no one seemed to have any problem with that. Then, of, fucking, course... She named each of them after a friend of mine. And not just that, but she did so in a way that told me she knew my friends better than I'd realized. By that I mean, she asked who could play the good boy, and then she asked which of them could play a pain in the ass who was always getting people into trouble, while never going too far. For each name she gave, she first took a volunteer so they were not only pretending to be one of my real friends, but they were doing so in a way that mirrored their personalities, at least a little bit, as well.

The guys had a good time debating over who was best for who, and they had a few laughs over moments like when two of the guys were trying to verbally compete for who should play "asshole friend". But eventually, they had their roles, and Mom and I had ours.