Alex Enjoys Being a Tour Guide

Walter was a senior tour guide, so I couldn't give him orders, but if I was to ask him to swap guests with me, then I'm sure that he'd agree to it.

"Yes Mother."

Alice and Rita skipped breakfast, only coming down from their room as we were about to leave. I've seen corpses that have looked better than they did. When they saw me, I got a nice smile from them, but I could tell that it was an effort for them to do it.

One of our key features as a tour operator is that we travel to all our destinations in traditional red London buses. We have a fleet of them. From the outside they look the same as when they were taking passengers in the capital city, but inside they are different. Everything has been changed, to give our guests a luxurious ride, so that they travel in complete comfort.

Our first stop today was Wallington Castle. It was built in the reign of William the Conqueror. It's a good example of a Norman castle, but we will be visiting a better one in our second week.

Unfortunately, Alice and Rita didn't get to see it. They managed only five miles, and then we had to stop so that both of them could throw up. They did it outside the bus, under our window. Mother was disgusted with them.

"If it was up to me I'd leave them here. They can walk back. And I'd also make them apologize."

Fortunately for them, she wasn't in charge, so we took them back to the hotel.

We were at Wallington Castle for two hours, and then we had a leisurely lunch at The Old Tavern. On the way to our final destination, a small stately home called Linchford Hall, some of the guests fell asleep after their heavy meal, Mother included. And she would be horrified if she ever found out that she'd been snoring.

We were back at the hotel at six o'clock, giving the guests time to relax before our evening meal at seven thirty. I was now officially off duty until tomorrow morning. However, I was expected to eat with the guests, and while doing so, keep them entertained. But until then, I did have some free time, and I spent it with Matt.

"You should have called me. It sounds like those two are up for anything."

I'd just told him what had happened last night, after Alice and Rita had invited me into their room. It had been the first opportunity for me to speak about it. We were young men, chasing pussy while we were working, but both of us took our job seriously. Our first priority was always to be good tour guides, making sure that the guests had a good holiday. Today we had been busy, and this was the first time we'd been able to spend some time together.

"What about you? Did you get anything from Amy?"

"No, not even a kiss. I can tell that she's willing, but her parents watch her like a hawk. They never let her out of their sight."

"Can you blame them?"

He shook his head. Amy was eighteen, but she looked younger. She had a pretty face and a petite body, but it had curves in all the right places. So it wasn't surprising that her parents were protecting her.

"I'm going to look for somebody else."

We spent the next half an hour trying to decide who that should be. I'd suggested Alice and Rita, but he'd said no. That was too easy, he wanted a challenge. After discussing all the other women, that were at least eighteen years old, except for my Mother, he picked Ms. Swallow. She was mid-forties, and she was with a woman who was much older than her, probably her Mother. After choosing her, he went to his room. His parting words, when I realized what they meant, made me laugh.

He'd said, "Hopefully she does."

As expected, Walter didn't have a problem with swapping guests, but Alice and Rita did. After spending the day in their room recuperating, they'd recovered, and were ready to party again.

"Don't worry, Walter will take good care of you, and then after the meal I'll come to your room."

I'd have preferred to be with them, but I'd promised Mother that I'd sit with her. It wouldn't be as enjoyable as being with them, but it would make my Mother happy.

"The food is excellent."

That was good. She can be very fussy, finding fault when there isn't any.

"And that red wine is possibly the best that I've ever had."

One glass is normally enough for her, but tonight it wasn't. She was already on her second, and we had only been eating for fifteen minutes.

"You must buy me a bottle of this for my birthday."

"Yes Mother."

Surprisingly, she was good company. We were talking a lot, and at times even laughing. Very soon she'd become an interesting woman, rather than my overbearing Mother. And that was because of the red wine. She hadn't gulped it down, but she had been drinking it steadily. It was only when she'd giggled at something that wasn't funny, that I realized there was a problem. I should have noticed earlier, that she was drinking a lot more than she could cope with. She was now drunk!

"I'll escort you to your room."

"No, I want another drink."

She then waved her arms in the air, so that she could get the attention of one of the waiters. Carlos came over.

"Would madam like some more red wine?"

She giggled, and he took that as a yes. But before he'd returned with another bottle, I'd managed to get her onto her feet, and with my arm around her waist, I was marching her towards her room.

When we got there I couldn't find the card for the door. It had to be in her handbag, but where? And Mother was no help, all she wanted to do was to giggle. Eventually I managed to find it. Her handbag had a small zipped compartment inside it, and that's where the card was.

Getting the door open was easy, but then she started clinging onto me. She was now almost deadweight. Somehow I managed to get her to the side of the bed, and we then fell on it together. When I'd got my breath back, I got off the bed.

"The best thing that you can do is to go to sleep."

That got an OK from her, and thankfully, without another annoying giggle. But then she spoke again.

"Undress me."

I didn't want to, but the look that I was getting from her said, if you don't then I will not be going to sleep.

It goes without saying that I have never undressed my Mother before, and that I was feeling uncomfortable about having to do it. It needed to be done though, so I would just have to get on with it. But it would be a lot easier if she wasn't an attractive woman.

She's forty three, but if she was to lie about her age, and say that she was only thirty five, you'd believe her. If there are any signs that reveal her true age, then they are well hidden by her expensive clothes. What you see is a woman of average height, but that is the only thing about her that is average. Her breasts are almost as big as Rita's, but because my Mother has a smaller frame, they are more prominent. And to compliment her impressive tits, she has a curvy bottom that has a nice wiggle when she walks. I've seen men deliberately walk behind her so that they could admire it. And if that's not enough to excite a man, then they should look at her beautiful face. It's one that they won't forget. Piercing blue eyes, flawless skin, a petite nose, and full lips.

The first button of her top was easy to undo, but the second one wasn't. And I was getting frustrated.

"You're not very good at this. Your Father would have had me topless by now."

Then she laughed. I just ignored her. Saying anything, would only encourage her to say more. But it was unusual for her to mention my Father. A year ago, he'd suddenly left her for another woman, and to make a bad situation worse, the new woman in his life was fifteen years older than her. I think even now she was still trying to come to terms with it. She could understand him dumping her for a younger more attractive woman, but for one so old?

I managed to do the rest without further criticism from her. But when I tried to open her blouse, so that I could slip it off her shoulders, she grabbed my hands.

"You naughty boy, you want to look at Mummy's big tits."

She was now laughing. It was as if what she'd just said was original and hilarious. It was neither. And I wasn't interested in looking at any part of her body. I just wanted to get her ready for bed as soon as possible, so that I could go and party with Alice and Rita.

"If you want to see them, then I can't stop you."

She'd now gone from protecting her breasts, to exposing them. After taking her top off, she'd thrust her chest out towards me. She was my Mother, but I couldn't stop myself from admiring them. They were impressive. Two globes covered by a low cut bra that was straining to contain them. And I could see the outline of her nipples. They were big, perhaps even bigger than Rita's.

"And I know you want to touch them."

That was silly. I didn't, but I'll admit to having enjoyed looking at them. Then she surprised me, with what she did, and with the coordination that she had for somebody who was so drunk. She'd taken hold of my right hand, and then she'd placed it on her breast. And her hand was now on top of it, to stop me removing it. I could feel her nipple pressing into my palm.

She was my Mother, but to my cock, she was just a woman. So in response to having my hand on a large breast, that was topped by an impressive nipple, it had started to grow, and at an alarming rate. That was the last thing that I needed now. It was difficult enough having to deal with my Mother, who wasn't just drunk, she was also in a playful mood, without having a cock that wanted some action.

When she said, "You can suck on my breast," that was too much for me.

I quickly freed my hand, and then I firmly pushed her away from me. She'd been sitting on the bed, but now she was on her back. And that irritating giggle had returned.

Mother always wears a skirt or a dress, never trousers. Today it was a short skirt. She looked good in it, and while we had been eating, one of the other women guests had complimented her on it. But now it was crumpled, with part of the hem trapped under her bottom. When I bent over her so that I could straighten it, she suddenly moved her legs. And what I was now looking at, that was made visible because her legs were wide open, had taken my breath away. It was so unexpected.

I wasn't sure which one of them had shocked me the most. The vivid dragon tattoo on her inner thigh, or the thong that she was wearing. However, there was no doubt about which of them was getting me excited.

"I hope you're not looking at Mummy's pussy."

I was, and I couldn't take my eyes off it, but she didn't need to know that.

"No, I'm just admiring your tattoo."

This time it was a chuckle from her.

"Touch it. Trace the outline of it with your fingers."

I was going to say no, to tell her to stop this nonsense, but the opportunity to put my hand on her leg, and so high up, was impossible to resist.

I was now touching her dragon tattoo, but my eyes were on her pussy. The thong was covering it, but only just. And the tightness of it was emphasising what was underneath. Between her legs was an impressive bulge. I'd learnt a lot about my Mother today. She has large nipples, and that red wine doesn't just get her drunk, it makes her mischievous. And thanks to her surprising choice of underwear, I now knew that she has large lips.

If she hadn't suddenly closed her legs, trapping my hand, I don't know what I would have done next. I'd like to think that after looking at her pussy for a little while longer, I would have removed my hand from her leg. But being honest with myself, it was more likely that my hand would have started moving upwards, and I don't think she would have stopped me doing that.

"Take my skirt off, I want to go to sleep."

Her legs were now open so I could free my hand. It was easy to undo her skirt. Just one button, and a small zip on the side, that when I'd pulled on it, had moved without any resistance. But getting her to stand up so that I could take it off was proving to be very difficult. I'd asked her, then I'd threatened her, and now I was using force. She was treating it like a game, with the aim of it being that she was to resist. If she could manage to stay on the bed, despite my best efforts, then she would be the winner. And to my annoyance, she was finding this struggle funny. When I eventually gave up, she looked triumphant.

"Move out of my way, I'm getting off the bed."

I did, and as soon as she was standing, she was taking her skirt off. I shook my head. If she'd done that five minutes ago, then my blood pressure wouldn't now be raised. Then she did something that made it go even higher, she removed her bra and panties.

"I always sleep in the nude."

I had to gulp, to remove the lump in my throat. It was time to leave, and to do it quickly. When I'd been staring at her pussy, that had been covered by her small thong, I'd been excited. And now I was excited again, but even more so.

After saying to her, in my best commanding voice, "You need to go to sleep," I turned my back on her, and then I started walking towards the door. Tomorrow, I would tell her all about this, and I would enjoy watching her squirm with embarrassment.

"I won't be able to sleep if I don't make myself come."

With hindsight, I should have ignored her, leaving the room without saying or doing anything. But I hadn't, I'd turned around to look at her. And that was a game changer.

In an effort to get that climax that she'd said she needed, she'd already started. One of her hands was on her breast, and the other was between her legs.

"You naughty boy, watching your Mummy finger herself."

This time when she giggled, it didn't annoy me, it excited me.

When I moved towards her, she stopped, but only so that she could get back onto the bed. If she was going to put on a show for me, then she wanted me to have the best view.

This had to be a dream, but when I pinched my arm, and I felt the pain, I knew that it wasn't. She was on her back with her legs wide open and her knees high up. It was as if she was giving birth. However, nothing was coming out of her opening, but there was something going into it. Two of her fingers.

I was mesmerised. She was giving a masterclass, and the subject was, 'How a woman should pleasure herself'. The hand on her breast was pulling on her nipple, and she was obviously enjoying it, but it was the hand that was between her legs that would eventually make her come. And she wasn't in a hurry. She was fingering herself slowly, occasionally stopping so that she could rub her clit a few times, before inserting her fingers again. This was something a lot of men would pay to see, and I was the lucky one, because for me there was no charge, and I was watching it from a ringside seat.

"Can you hear how wet I am?"

I could. When her fingers moved inside her pussy there was a squelching sound.

"And can you smell me?"

I took a deep breath. Mixed in with her delicate perfume, and the alcohol fumes coming from her body, was a smell that was unmistakable, and it was that strong odour that she was referring to. I took another deep breath, the smell was divine. It was the smell of her excited pussy.

"If you promise to be a good boy, and not tell anybody, then you can taste it."

This time I did answer her, and quickly.

"I won't tell anybody."

That promise got me my treat, a finger that was sticky with her juices. I eagerly sucked on it. It was wonderful, and I wanted to taste it again, but not from her finger. I wanted it directly from the source. Her sweet pussy!

The polite thing to do would be to ask her if I could go down on her, but I didn't think that was necessary. She was letting me watch her finger herself, and she had even let me taste her juices, so she was never going to say no.

And she didn't. When my head went between her legs she quickly removed her hand, and then she used it to stroke my hair. Watching her had been exciting, but having my mouth on her pussy had taken that excitement to a higher level.

I started by sucking into my mouth as much of her big lips as I could. It made her gasp.

"Mummy likes that."

I then pushed two fingers deep into her wet pussy, and that got a moan from her.

"And Mummy likes that as well."

That didn't surprise me. My Mother regarded herself as more polite, and more sophisticated, than my new friends Alice and Rita. That might be true, but I'd now realized that in the bedroom they were all the same. Three mature women that were eager for sex.

After fingering her for a while, I went for her clit. My plan was to play with it, to get her even more excited, so that when I took my cock out she'd be as eager as I was to fuck. Doing that wasn't trivial, in fact it was the ultimate taboo. And she would know that, so even if she wanted to stop, I wanted her to be so aroused that she was compelled to continue.

But first I needed to find it, and that wasn't easy because it was hidden inside her large labia. I needed to burrow down, to go deep with my tongue.

"That was sooooo good."

She was purring. When I licked her little pearl again, but this time harder, she said more, and it told me that I'd licked too hard.

"Fuck, you've made Mummy's pussy come."

I kept my fingers inside her, and my tongue on her clit, while her orgasm surged through her body. At its height, her pussy convulsed against my fingers, and her legs squeezed my head.

It hadn't gone to plan. She was supposed to get her climax from my cock being deep up her pussy, instead she had got it from my tongue. But that wasn't a problem. I would now fuck her, and she would come again.

Five minutes later, I'd come to the conclusion that it was a problem, and it was one that was insurmountable.

As soon as her orgasm was over she'd pushed me away, and then she'd said, "I want to sleep."

And her tone had told me that she meant it. But if there was any doubt, then it evaporated when she got under the covers. And now, with those covers tucked under her chin, and her eyes closed, there was no way she was going to let me fuck her.

It was a short walk from Mother's room to where I was now heading. I was going to party with Alice and Rita. When I got to their room, I raised my hand so that I could press the buzzer, but then I stopped. I could hear male voices. Walter and Matt had beaten me to it. I'd struck out for the second time. With my tail between my legs, I went back to my room, and when I got there, I sulked.

The next day when I woke up, my first thought was about Mother, specifically, what we'd done together in her room. And I wasn't feeling guilty. It was no big deal. We were consenting adults, and that was all that mattered. However, while I showered, I thought more about it. Mother had been drunk, but I'd been sober. If she had any regrets, or was feeling guilty, then I would get the blame.

There were only six guests having breakfast, so Mother was easy to spot. She was seated at a small table in the corner of the room. As I approached her I was nervous. When she saw me I got a big smile, and it was genuine. That relaxed me.

She greeted me with, "I must apologize, last night I was a bit drunk."

"A bit?"

That made her laugh.

"OK I'll admit it. I was VERY drunk."

It was my turn to laugh.

"But I don't think I did anything that was embarrassing," and then, after a slight hesitation, she added, "Or anything that was inappropriate."

That second sentence told me a lot. She was OK with what we'd done, but she needed to know if I was as well.

"You didn't. After the meal I escorted you back to your room, and then I went to mine."

And that was all that was said about it. We had dealt with it in the best possible way, by pretending that nothing had happened!

After breakfast, Mother went to her room, and I went to mine. In just over an hour we would be travelling to our next hotel, so I needed to pack. While I was doing that, I started thinking about my Mother. For someone who had been as drunk as she was only a few hours ago, she was now looking remarkably well. And she'd eaten a hearty breakfast. Had she really been that drunk, or had she exaggerated it?