Twenty Cups Ch. 04

"Mmm," Mom hummed. "That's nice."

I kissed the smooth skin of her neck. Latching there, I gently sucked. Her skin tasted cool and fresh.

"You need me, Jake?" she muttered drowsily.

"Want you, Beth," I mumbled, briefly drawing my lips from her neck.

She rolled toward me, descending slightly so that my head was slightly higher than hers. Eyes closed, she began planting tiny kisses on my chin and neck. Her fingertips drew light circles on my chest and stomach.

I groaned.

"What do you want, Jake, my sweet?" her voice was airy and low. Before I could answer, she clasped my hand with hers and drew it up to her face. She kissed my index finger, and then she slid her lips around it, sucking and massaging it with her tongue. Her mouth was soft, warm, and very, very wet.

"What do you want, Beth?" I asked, haltingly. It felt too good, and some of the words caught in my throat.

Her lips slid off my finger, and she whispered, "I want to please my man." She let go of my hand and slid down the bed, kissing my body on the way. At my chest, she paused. Her eyes, drowsy, but adoring, fixed on mine.

"I'm not sure how, though," she began. "Will you help me decide?"

I nodded.

"I like it when it goes all over my face. I like how warm it is, and then how it cools, and I like how strange it feels, sleeping with it on my cheeks and lips. And waking up, I like feeling dirty and sexy with all of that dried cum on my face." She looked at me, waiting.

"I like that, too," I said, still jarred by her language. I loved how dirty she spoke.

She smiled, saying, "But, I also like it when it's on my tits. I get to watch your face when you cum. It's hard to watch your face when you're cumming on mine."

I nodded.

"And, when it's on my tits, I can lick it off, and I still feel sexy and sticky and dirty when I go to sleep."

I nodded.

"But, I like swallowing it all, too," she said. "I get to see your face, I get to feel your cock throb on my tongue and between my lips, and it's so clean and perfect: from you to me. No spills. No mess. And, I get that sexy dirty feeling from the taste in my mouth, and the feeling in my tummy."

I nodded.

"I just don't know," she muttered, and her eyes waited on me as if she really needed help with this decision.

"In your tummy."

Her face grew bright, and her teeth shined inside her smile. "Good, because I'm a little bit hungry."

She inched down. When she wasn't kissing, she whispered to me.

"Let me suck on my Jake's cock."

"Let me make him feel so good."

"Let me swallow my Jake's cum."

"Let me feed from his body."

No kissing and licking, her lips instantly took me in.

I gasped. Her words and her looks had already taken me to the heights of anticipation.

We were on our sides, and Mom looked up at me throughout. Other than the occasional blink, our eyes fixed on each other.

Her jaw gaped to take me in. Her creamy skin sank in around her cheekbones with the suction, and her lips were fat as they ran along the shaft. She worked slowly, with apparent enjoyment.

She wasn't noisy or sloppy. It was clean and mostly quiet. The only sounds I heard from her were the occasional hum of satisfaction from her lips and a periodic gulp emanating from her throat.

I wasn't as quiet. Almost as soon as she started, I began moaning her name. It was painfully good, and I tried to either gasp or hold my breath. The ramp up was beginning.

She stopped, suddenly. Then, gazing at me, she kissed the tip. She didn't say or do anything, just watched me with the hint of a smirk.

My chest heaved in and out. I huffed, "Please, Beth."

"Ready?"

I nodded.

"Will you feed me?"

"Yeah."

She let her lips drag around the tip, still watching me. It was playful, the way she let her lips tease the head of my erection, the way her eyes scanned me for a reaction. She smiled and then bit my penis gently.

And for the second time, I was struck by her youth. She didn't seem like the middle-aged woman she was. Something about her eyes and her face gave the impression of a much younger woman. They were energized and eager. Her bearing, I thought, was more like the girls my own age. In a way, she reminded me of Lia and Emma.

This was not the same woman who pleasured me and taught me about sex in order to fill cups. She was something new.

It was a glimpse, I thought, into my Mom's youth. This is what she was like for my father when they were young and in love. This is the kind of lover she was: energetic, tender, giving all, and surprisingly playful.

"What?" she shyly asked, seeing, I supposed, how closely I regarded her every move.

"You're incredible."

She batted her eyes and asked if I'd been teased long enough.

I nodded.

"Will you watch me swallow it?"

I nodded.

"Don't close your eyes," she urged.

I shook my head.

I lasted thirty seconds, maybe. It was her eyes. They locked onto mine and fed off my reaction. She liked how good she was making me feel.

I wanted to close my eyes, but I didn't. Instead, I gripped her head with both hands. As the muscles in my stomach clenched, I bent towards her.

Feeling the waves of release, I held my breath. I cradled her face, kept it pointed towards mine, and listened to her throaty gulps. She didn't hold it in her mouth, she swallowed as it came, in rhythm with the pulses.

I released her from my grip at the same moment the breath I'd been holding burst from me in a long, low growl.

Mom held me in her mouth, sucking and swallowing, for a few more seconds. When she let my erection slip free, her face beamed. "Happy New Year, Jake," she whispered.

I rolled onto my back, completely drained.

She collapsed on my tummy.

We fell asleep that way.

***

I woke again when I heard Mom in the shower, getting ready for work. Holidays are often her favorite days to go in. The place is empty, and she can get a ton of stuff done, she says. I grabbed my boxers and went back to my room.

Laying in bed, I found I couldn't get back to sleep. I had too many questions that still needed answering.

How much was Mom pretending? She called me "Jake." I had played along, calling her "Beth" and not "Mom." She seemed to either not care or actually like it. Is that something she wanted or needed me to do? Was she so tired that she actually believed it?

Then, what about when she woke up and showered? Had she not seen me there in bed with her?

And, why was she so different—so youthful—when we were together as Beth and Jake, especially compared to the times before, when she helped with my cups?

Had she been expecting me in the night? Is that why the covers were down and she hadn't been wearing panties?

Did she want me to keep visiting her? Was she hoping for it last night?

These thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Mom's footsteps, heading in the direction of either the stairs or my room.

I snapped my eyes shut and lay completely still.

She silently entered my room.

I heard her draw near me. I felt her standing over my body, watching me. It had to have been fifteen seconds she was there. I almost jumped when she kissed my cheek. She left shortly after.

I should go talk to her, ask her these questions I had.

I decided not to, and I'm not sure why. I suppose I was just too confused about everything.

What the heck was going on with Mom?

*****

Note: This is self-edited, an imperfect process. Please forgive the errors; they're in there, I'm sure. Thanks so much for reading. -FS