Home, Unexpectedly Early

What do you say and do when you come home unexpectedly early and open the door to find your mum there on the couch, head tilted back towards the ceiling, with gasping mouth open, feet up on the cushions wide apart, skirt rucked up to her waist and lace panties dangling off one ankle as the blur of her hand sweeps the dildo in and out of her squelching pussy?

If you're anything like me, you say nothing at all and slide silently back out the same way you came in.

Which I did.

I gave it a minute and then re-entered the house, but this time, clumsy me, tripping over the threshold and bouncing off the side of the door with a loud curse. For good measure, I called out, "Yoo-hoo, anyone home?" before taking a deep breath and tentatively pushing the living-room door open once again.

My Mum now sat there looking slightly disheveled but otherwise respectable, dress straightened to below her knees which were now firmly together, one hand combing back through her auburn shoulder length hair. A glimpse of white patterned lace indicated where she'd pushed her panties almost out of sight beneath the couch. She seemed slightly out of breath and there was a certain ruddiness to her cheeks.

"Hi Mum...dadah!" I held out the bottle of wine I'd thought to buy on the way home.

"Davey! Hey, what a surprise!" She gasped, breathlessly, "I thought you weren't coming home till tomorrow?" She held out both arms to greet me but she didn't get up.

"Nah, I finished everything up early. Studying can wait. My only thought was getting back to see you..." I leant over to let her kiss my cheeks, and her hands wound themselves round my neck, pulling me further in. As I stepped forward I simultaneously gave her panties a surreptitious kick so they were now hidden completely beneath the couch. Held tightly inside her linked arms, I sensed how much her right hand mingled the aroma of her scent with that of fresh pussy.

"I ordered pizza on the way home, so there'll be just time to chill the wine before it gets here."

"Ooh, lovely!" But she still didn't get up to take the wine I was proffering her through to the kitchen.

It was then it occurred to me that perhaps it was because she wasn't able to get up, because... well, because maybe she hadn't been able to get rid of all of those items she'd been playing around with before I'd interrupted her. Perhaps -- just perhaps -- the dildo was still hidden beneath her skirt. Perhaps...oh. Perhaps it was still there inside her?

"Leave it to me, I'll stick this in the fridge and set the table then, shall I?"

"You're an angel, thanks Davey."

"No problem." And I turned and went through into the kitchen and put the wine in the fridge. That took barely a minute though, and when I came back out into the lounge it was to find myself presented with the vision of the pale, smooth, bare globes of Mum's ass in the air beneath her skirt as she knelt down and was frantically searching for something underneath the couch. The still-damp lips of her pussy and the puckered entrance to her asshole divided her bum neatly into two. And not a dildo in sight.

"Have you lost something?"

Mum jolted upright, still on her knees.

"Umm, no, it's okay, I was just looking for the, er, the pen I had earlier for doing the, umm, crossword..."

"Oh. Where'd you see it last?" I asked, starting to bend over to look under the couch.

"NO! Umm, I mean I've suddenly remembered I had it in the kitchen for jotting down the grocery list..."

"Oh, okay then, I'll go find it..."

"NO! I mean, no, leave it, it really doesn't matter..."

I was quite enjoying this.

Mum got to her feet and came over to me. "No, all that's important is that you're home safe now...", and on tiptoe she wrapped her arms around me, kissed me heavily on the neck and pushed her soft body up against me. That certainly distracted my attention.

"Mmm, you taste delish. Now," and she patted me on the chest, "you go set the table while I go change into something more suitable..."

"Suitable? What do you mean? You've not looked in a mirror lately? You're gorgeous..."

That was a bit over-the-top since she was still obviously flustered and her hair looked as though she'd been hauled through a hedge backwards, but to tell the truth it did something for her. She did look wildly beautiful. I held her gaze for maybe a moment too long because she self-consciously dragged her fingers backwards through her mop and her face became even redder.

"You...." she smiled and patted me even harder on the chest, then turned away to leave the room to go get changed. I lowered my eyes to follow the wide arcs of her pantie-less ass as it swayed lusciously beneath the flimsy covering of her dress. As she was about to leave though, she looked back at me and I just had time, at least I think I did, to lift my gaze. She saw that I seemed to be making no evident movement towards setting the table, and brought a finger to her lips as though apparently just remembering something.

"Ah, umm, in the kitchen, there's a nice...a nice tablecloth...up in the top cupboard...I mean, if we're doing 'special', like..." and she smiled and motioned me towards the kitchen.

I thought, alright, I'll be a good boy and give her ample time to remove her panties and dildo from their hiding-place. Though if the dildo had joined the panties underneath the couch it was probably now full of the fluff that had attached itself to the pussy juice still covering it. This vision swam through my mind and I grinned to myself as I turned away and went back into the kitchen. Even as I closed the door behind me, I could imagine Mum now frantically diving her hands under the couch to retrieve her lost property. Finding and then holding up a now hairy dildo for dubious inspection. I laughed.

But whilst setting the table I had time to replay the scenes of those last few moments in my head. Over the years I'd had the occasional glimpse of Mum's more intimate parts, but only an upskirt flash here before she'd repositioned her skirt, or a down-blouse glimpse there when she'd bent over while wearing a low-cut summery dress. But this was in a completely different league. This was Premier League stuff. And I'd just joined the Supporters' Club.

I finished raiding the fridge and prepared a Greek salad, and was setting the table when the door-bell rang to announce the arrival of our pizza. I fairly leapt towards the door, whipped it open with a stupid grin on my face, unceremoniously grabbed the pizza box and grandly over-tipped the delivery boy before closing the door on him and rushing back to the kitchen. My God, this was almost like my behavior on a first date or something. Why was I so tense and eager? After all, it was only my mum. Jackie. Yes, she had a name, Jackie. In a major shift of emotion I was suddenly seeing her as a fully rounded person, with likes and...and she liked...ummm, well, what did she like? What were the things she didn't like? And what made her laugh? Maybe I could be the one who makes her laugh? Wow, talk about pre-date nerves. What, just because I'd been given this unexpectedly raw glimpse into her private life and I wanted to somehow be involved in it?

I was definitely confused. This really shouldn't be happening, but I was suddenly desperate to impress her, to show her that...well, I suppose, that we were good together. That the scales had suddenly tipped and that we could share more than was usual in a mother/son relationship? That she could treat me as an equal? That she could let me...no, no, NO!! Don't even think that!

But at least maybe let me kiss her...and not on the cheek, either...but squarely on the lips.

My cock had already galloped ahead of my thoughts and was creating a visible bulge in my pants. It seemed to know something that apparently I'd still not been able to put into words.

Jackie came in just I was uncorking the wine, and she stood there for a moment in the doorway until the 'pop!' of the cork broke the spell. She laughed.

My eyes, meanwhile, had been drawn towards her silhouette. She'd changed out into a figure-hugging sleeveless red dress, elegant in its simplicity, and as she stood there in the doorway, legs slightly apart, the light which I'd left on in the hallway when I'd answered the door served to outline in detail the smooth curve of her legs fully from her knees up and into her crotch.

"You're spilling the wine!"

"Oh, shit...umm, sorry..."

I poured two glasses and held one out for her. I held her gaze as I did so. It wasn't difficult. This person standing in front of me who I'd always just seen as 'Mum' truly was gorgeous. She'd now fluffed her hair up at the back, with strands curling down around her long neck and leisurely over her shoulders, she wore a simple chain necklace with a matching bracelet and she seemed to have touched up her lipstick and added blusher to her cheeks.

But I was the one blushing.

She asked, "You like it?"

"I love it."

"It's the body."

"What?"

"What are you talking about?"

"What are you talking about?"

"The wine."

"The wine? Oh. Yeah, the wine..." I stumbled for words. "Well, I...I remembered you liked it. And you commented once that you'd acquired a taste for it, so..."

"When was that? It must have been ages ago. We've not had expensive wine like this in a long while."

"It was back at Aunt Chrissie's birthday do, you remember? Or maybe you don't. The two of you were knocking it back like there was no tomorrow. You were hammered, the both of you."

"So you trying to get me hammered again, then?" she asked with a grin.

"Well I only got us the one bottle, so...."

She nudged me in the ribs with her elbow. "Just kidding." Then she linked her arm in mine and I led her across to the table. "Mmm, nice spread. Very Mediterranean. It reminds me of that holiday we had in Rhodes, way back, you remember, low lighting, very romantic..."

Of course I remembered -- it was the last holiday we'd spent together before Dad died. I saw the tears welling up in Mum's eyes, so I said,

"Well, that's soon sorted, then. All we need is," and I quickly skipped over to Mum's CD collection and hooked out a mix that I'd compiled just for her after that trip, the one to which Dad and I would theatrically groan aloud each time she played it.

"And..." I opened one of the drawers and brought out a couple of candles which we always kept on standby in case of a winter power cut.

It only took a couple of minutes until the whole living room was transformed. The mundane clutter of daily life retreated into the shadows and our whole world suddenly shrank to just the two of us and our table with a simple yet tasty meal, being serenaded softly in the background by some bloke with a Latin accent. I'd finally come to appreciate what Mum saw in the music.

She sat across from me and the candlelight reflected in her eyes as we brought our glasses together and clinked them in a wordless toast. It also shone on her full lips and made them appear, what can I say, juicy. And after she took a sip from the wine they looked even juicier. I tried to imagine what it would be like to kiss them, to lever them open to taste the tongue inside...

"You look like you're lost in a dream." She'd caught me staring. "Well, actually it's you who looks like the dream. Has anyone ever told you you're very handsome?"

"You did. Lots of times over the years...you're still kidding me aren't you?"

"Haha," She took a fork-full of the salad and chewed it. "Actually no, not this time. I hope it doesn't give you a big head if I tell you that, quite objectively speaking, you're a heartthrob. And that's not because of this," she swept her fork around in the air, "atmosphere. But because you just are. You're good-looking, you're kind and..."she looked down towards my chest, "you've got terrific abs, haha... Okay, now I'm kidding."

She giggled like a girl and I joined in with her. All the tenseness of anticipation that I'd felt earlier simply melted away and we fell into easy conversation. We talked and laughed about shared experiences -- even exchanged the pieces of Bulgarian cheese and black olives from our salads, passing them over on the ends of our forks, offering them straight into each other's mouth. This was a real date. During a lull in the to and fro of our observations, Mum started to hum along to the music, and her head started swaying from side to side along with the rhythm. I refilled the wine glass in her hand, and she started to swing the glass from side to side as well, her eyes closed.

I pushed my chair back and got up from the table, walked quietly round behind her and, resting both my hands over her bare shoulders, planted a kiss on her neck. She replied only with "Mmmmm..."

I took the glass from her, placed it on the table and taking her hand, urged her up from the seat. She did so and turned into my arms. I placed one of my hands in the small of her back. She lifted her hand on that side and placed it on my shoulder, toying a little with a few strands of my hair that fell across my neck. I took her other hand in mine and led her out into the middle of the room, making turns around the furniture in time to the background serenade.

I don't know why I was doing this -- I'm a hopeless dancer, but it just seemed natural. Don't ask me what the rhythm was -- a waltz? I don't know. I just know that she adapted her body to mine as I led her to revisit the different corners of the room as we swayed past them.

Jackie -- I could only think of her as 'Jackie' -- pressed her curves up against me and rested her head on my shoulder and we turned as one body to the sound. Her breasts were pressed hard up against my chest, and she looked up at me, smiled a huge smile and returned her head to my shoulder. I let my face fall into her hair and I breathed in her exquisite scent. I kissed the top of her head.

The hand holding her at the small of her back had meanwhile inevitably slid downwards and was now to be found pressing against the cheeks of her bum. She acquiesced to this by pushing her own self further into my groin until suddenly seeming to realize where it was all going, reached her arm behind her and hoisted my hand back to its original position. She smiled up at me.

"Not tonight, Romeo." She whispered, and kissed my cheek before releasing herself from my grasp.

She led me by the hand back to the table and we didn't mention it again. We polished off the bottle with another toast, Jackie proposed it -- to romance. We both smiled and looked each other straight in the eye.

That night was feverishly active for both of us, albeit in separate bedrooms. I relived the feel of her body in my arms, the give, the bounciness of her ass, the knowledge that when she'd changed her clothes she'd found herself a fresh pair of, judging by my fingers, tiny panties to replace those lacey ones from under the couch. I relived her thrusting herself up against me, knowing that there was no way she couldn't be aware of the raging hard-on inside my pants.

The low-level thumping emanating from the next room told me that Jackie was working out to those very same memories.

The next morning I surveyed Mum warily and wearily from across the breakfast table. I think we'd both shagged ourselves out during the night. My imagination had run riot and it had certainly been the best vicarious sex I'd ever experienced. But where I probably had bags the size of dustbins under my eyes, Mum was up and about and bursting with energy. Go figure.

"Have you got anything planned for today?" she asked as she passed the toast across to me.

"Umm, no, not particularly. Probably get down to a bit of course revision but there's no pressure as of yet. Why? What have you got in mind?"

"You'd never make a negotiator. You should always ask what I've got in mind first before admitting you're free, and not the other way round..." She smiled and took a bite out of her toast, leaving a couple of crumbs round the edge of her lips. A tongue snaked out and hooked them inside. Like one of those animals trapping a fly. What do you call it, some kind of lizard...anyway it was very erotic, it seemed...

"Are you listening?"

"Uh?"

"I was saying I want to go through a lot of the old stuff I'm never going to use again...bag it, bin it, take it round to the charity shop...I'll probably need your help and advice and those really strong arms of yours. What I should maybe keep as well...and it might include some of your stuff, so if you've got any porn mags hidden around, maybe now's a good time to...remove them?"

I should have been shocked, of course, when she said that, but after yesterday's 'session', things had subtly changed between us. I merely smiled and crooked an eyebrow.

"Alright. Give me half an hour."

"What!?" she spluttered, "You've got so many porn mags you need to hire a crane...??"

She was laughing, but I had half a mind to suggest we might need the crane to remove some of her dildos. I didn't suggest it.

"No. I've only got..." I looked at the ceiling "...just the one. The rest of the stuff is under bookmarks on my computer..." My turn to smile. "I just need another coffee."

She looked at me with the beginnings of a smirk. "Hard night, was it?"

She didn't wait for an answer, but sprang up and started clattering the pots into the washbasin.

So half an hour later we stood up in the loft with a roll of plastic bags.

"I thought we might as well start from the top and work our way down. The stuff we decide to throw, we'll bring it down into the garage and then it should be no big deal to transfer it from there."

A glance around the loft was a throwback to my youth -- and to even before I was born. Mum said if there was anything of real sentimental value I could keep it, but otherwise we should bite the bullet and chuck it out. I saw that a lot of items were the kind of thing you might see on 'Bargain Hunt' on the television -- various ornaments and knickknacks inherited or brought back from holidays. The suitcases were another matter. Clicking them open, we found old clothes which had gone out of fashion a long time back -- so long ago in fact that we wondered whether they might be due for a comeback.

Jackie opened one and discovered a hoard of Go-Go type outfits. She held up a miniscule mini-skirt to her waist and laughed, saying, "Waddya think?" and waddling her hips sexily.

"You weren't arrested, wearing that?"

"Well I wasn't...maybe your dad should have been, though. After he saw me wearing it he couldn't keep his hands off me...I remember he took a couple of pictures of me wearing it at a disco. They should be in one of the old albums somewhere if we come across them..."

I immediately resumed my search with a renewed vigor.

We didn't come across the albums. What I did come across though when I opened one of the suitcases was a strange costume in glittering blue sequins.

"And this?" I held up the two-piece outfit comprising a top and yet another tiny, matching miniskirt, both of them shimmering in the light of the bare bulb which illuminated the loft.

"My skating outfit...!" She came across and took it from me, holding it out to appraise it. "Have a look, there should be a pair of ice skates in there as well..." Indeed there was, a white pair of boots wrapped up in a heavy cloth. "Wow...!" She exhaled.

"You used to skate?"

"Yeah, I did. I started in school. The boys used to play rugby and football and the girls would do hockey and ice-skating. I was quite good and entered a couple of local competitions -- that's why my Mum bought me the outfit..."

"Put it on."

"Don't be silly, it won't fit me any more..."

"Put it on." Well, one can only hope.

She looked at me. I could see she was dying to try it on again, if only to be disgusted at how much weight she'd gained in the meantime. I was guessing not much because she did work out pretty regularly.