Shepherd's Pie

Without her saying it, I slowly realized that my mother's submission was actually demonstrating her power to release all of my pent up frustration. In that moment, it suddenly became clear that she loved wearing pantyhose simply to be worshipped by men each and every day. For years, she'd subconsciously instilled me with the same twisted obsession, as I grew up under the spell of nylon cast by the beauty of her shimmering legs.

Finally, with my hands locked firmly around her waist, driving my dick between her silken thighs furiously pumping back and forth, only then was I truly able to see how fully she possessed my soul.

Eventually, the rising pressure building inside my balls rose to a level much too powerful to contain.

"I think I'm about to cum," I said, losing my rhythm.

Heeding my warning, she turned around and sat facing me, legs extended so her snowy white pantyhose stretched down straight to the floor. Staring me in the eye, she reached over and firmly took hold of my cock. She leaned forward, briefly taking it inside her mouth, using lots of spit as she generously slobbered the swollen head. She then closed her fingers around my shaft, tightening her fist as she firmly began milking my rod, jerking it with persistence as she gazed up into my eyes, giving clear instructions as she held my penis directly above her legs.

"I want you to cum as hard as you can," Mom said. "I just want to look down and see nothing except your hot creamy load all over these pantyhose," she added, pumping away. "That's it. Come on, baby. Don't hold back. You don't have to anymore," she continued breathlessly. "I'm yours now, understand?" she whispered, spurring my release. "These legs," she said vividly. "These pantyhose," she offered oh so desperately. "They're all yours, baby," she stated earnestly. "Now, go on. Make Mommy's pantyhose nice and wet. Cum all over my pretty legs."

In that moment, if I'd ever questioned the existence of God, the sound of her voice made it blindingly obvious I was wrong. Nothing felt more transcendent than hearing those words echo through my head with such sincerity that my balls imploded like ground zero, resulting in an epic cum shower, sheeting down wave after wave, sparing no part of my mother's body, as she sat there stroking without letup, draining me from the inside out, gaping as one furious blast followed another, when I finally looked down, stunned by the sight of cum oozing down not just her face, but also dripping from her wet sticky tits, while oozing over every stitch of pantyhose glued to her glistening thighs, seeping down into the nylon where Mom ran her fingers through the greasy slime, smiling as she reached up to savor the salty residue, slurping it in her mouth like she'd never tasted anything quite so sweet.

It took me a moment to get my bearings, leaning against the arm of the sofa as I patiently waited for the room to stop spinning. As I looked over, Mom was still busy cleaning the pasty film off her fingers.

"Mmm," she said, licking her lips. "There's nothing better than teenage cum," she added, shooting me a wink. "Oh, that reminds me. I almost forgot about dinner. You must be starving."

"I'm good," I answered, with a mild shrug. "Actually, I was thinking maybe I should cook for you."

Mom quirked her head. "You want to make dinner?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Are you sure you know how to make it?"

"I'm sure I can manage. I've seen you make it a hundred times. It can't be that hard."

"Hmm, okay, if you insist," she said, standing up. "I'll text Cynthia and tell her to come by tomorrow. If you need any help, just let me know. But first, I should probably jump in the shower."

"Go right ahead. I'll probably step out and have a cigarette first anyway," I told her.

"Sounds good," Mom said. "In the meantime, please think about cancelling that photo shoot with Cynthia. I really think you're playing with fire."

"Mom, I swear, nothing will happen," I said. "You can trust me."

As soon as I said it, Mom reached over and touched me on the shoulder.

"Chris, how can I trust you?" she said. "You haven't exactly been the model of self-control lately."

"Oh, and you have?"

"Well, maybe not, but that isn't the point," she said. "We just found this place. And I know you like it here as much as I do. Why would you want to risk losing it so soon?"

"Fine, I'll think about it," I said, nodding my head.

"Thank you," she said. "That's all I'm asking."

With that, she headed upstairs, leaving me to figure out dinner on my own.

It took me some time, still I managed to produce something resembling shepherd's pie, when Mom came over wearing her bathrobe, joining me at the table. She sat down, poured two glasses of wine, then reached down to bravely take her first bite.

The look on her face as she slowly began to chew immediately told me something was wrong.

"Umm, did you season this?" Mom asked.

"Uh yeah," I said, frowning at her reaction. "Yeah, I think so. Is it bad?"

"Well, it's the thought that counts," she said, as she reached over and patted the back of my hand.

"Um, why don't we just go out to eat?" I suggested. "I know you've been wanting to try that Mexican place in Cambridge."

Mom instantly perked up. "Oh, that's right," she said. "That place with the big margaritas and the salsa dancing. I'll even wear one of my really short dresses so you can show me off."

"Perfect," I said, smiling. "Just don't forget the pantyhose," I added, like she needed to be reminded.

"Oh, trust me, sweetie. You'll be seeing me a lot of me in pantyhose from now on," she replied. "Just try not to tell anyone I'm your mother when we get there, okay?"

"Um, okay," I said, feeling a bit confused. "So what should I tell people if someone asks?"

"Easy," she said, as she looked up, flashing her sexy smile. "If anyone asks you who I am, then all you should do is tell them the truth."

"Oh, and what's that?" I said, as she glanced up over the rim of her glass, whispering her answer as she slowly set it back down.

"Exactly what you've always wanted me to be," she said, as she stood up, walked over and slowly sat across my lap. She leaned in for a wet, lingering kiss, sliding her tongue inside my mouth, filling it with the sweet taste of wine, before slowly pulling her lips away.

"Technically, I'm still your mother," she said. "But from this day forward, I want you to think of me as your girlfriend. I'll wear whatever you want me to wear. I'll do whatever you want me to do. I'll be your personal slut, your very own flesh and blood fantasy. And I promise to never stop wearing pantyhose as long as you promise to save all your cum just for me."

The End

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