Mom's Stocking Stuffer

"Not tonight," she said as she swung her legs over the edge of the couch. "Goodnight."

Crestfallen, I nodded. "Night."

My disappointment mingled with a touch of panic as she quickly walked to the bathroom without our goodnight kiss. She also forgot her bra on the end table and her heels beneath the coffee table in front of the couch.

Did I go too far? Does she know?

I closed my eyes, dropping my chin to my chest and shaking my head. I wondered if I'd just closed the door on the only relief I had for my steadily increasing need. I got up off the couch and went to my room, not wanting her to see me agonizing if she remembered her bra and shoes. From down the hall, I heard the shower start up, my thoughts growing ever more chaotic.

Out of caution, I waited longer before making the trek to the bathroom that night. The room was cool, and the steam faded from the mirror when I entered. The warmth of her had likewise left her stockings as I picked them up. When I retrieved her panties from the hamper, something was different as well.

The scent of her was stronger — far more intense. I could smell it long before the cotton reached my nose. Worries lost in Mom's womanly perfume, I unzipped my pants and freed my cock.

Just as I wrapped her stockings around the throbbing organ, I heard something. I froze, not daring to make a sound in case she'd noticed I was there. I strained my ears over the sound of the furnace, and it finally dawned on me what I was hearing.

The explorations that had told me what size bra she wore had also revealed something else that had shocked me so much at the time that I stopped snooping in her drawers completely. Then, the thought of Mom using a vibrator had been too much to contemplate.

Hearing it humming from her bedroom caused me to shudder and bite off a gasp.

Every other sound faded into the background as I stroked my cock with her stockings, listening to the toy hum. I could hear the rhythmic muting as Mom plunged it into her pussy, the louder buzz of it emerging from between her nether lips growing shorter with each passing second.

I was on the verge of orgasm when one other sound reached my ears. It was quiet — obviously restrained — but just loud enough for me to hear, and unmistakable. My cock erupted in a geyser as Mom whimpered, the hum of her vibrator stilled from it being buried deep in her as she climaxed. Try as I might, I couldn't prevent the clipped grunt that escaped me along with my cum.

My pulse thundered in my ears, and I felt light headed. Only a few feet away, I knew Mom was quivering in release, even as I was. Though I listened through the cacophony of my racing heartbeat, I didn't hear her make another sound. Then the sound of her vibrator ceased.

I caught my breath, a flash of worry burning through the post orgasmic fog in my head. She might bring the toy to the bathroom to clean it. In a rush, I replaced her panties and stockings before flushing the toilet. I had no choice, even though it would reveal that I was in the bathroom, because thick ropes of cum floated in the water below.

I was out the door before the water even finished swirling down the bowl. Breathing heavily a few seconds later in my bed, I could hear the buzzing and her whimper playing through my head in an endless loop. Far more quickly than I'd ever dreamed of, I was hard again.

I spurted a second time into a hastily acquired shirt before drifting off to sleep with visions of Mom masturbating fixed firmly in my mind.

****

I was a nervous wreck as I stood in front of my bedroom door on Christmas Eve morning. I could hear Mom in the kitchen, and the smells reaching me revealed that she was hard at work making Christmas dinner.

Her abrupt departure from the living room and the inability to hide that I was in the bathroom while she was using her vibrator in the deep of the night weighed heavily on me. I knew that I couldn't hide in my room forever, so I screwed up my courage and opened the door.

To my relief, Mom simply turned to me when I appeared in the kitchen doorway and said, "Merry Christmas." To my delight, she was dressed up and not only wearing stockings, but also a sweater that stretched tight across her breasts. She had on earrings in the form of tiny silver bells, and I could hear them tinkling as she moved.

She waved me toward her, and I smiled as I approached. She gave me a good morning kiss, and then gestured with a wooden spoon.

"This will be ready a lot quicker if you'll give me a hand."

"Sure, Mom. What do you want me to do?"

"Well, for starters, pre-heat the toaster oven to 425 and get out the pie pan."

It was as if nothing ever happened the night before. I fell into the easy routine of helping her in the kitchen, stealing glances whenever she had her attention on something or bent over. Mom had put on Christmas music, and I felt as if I had a little more control over my desire as she hummed along. It was still there, but tempered by so many memories of the season from before my feelings for her had evolved.

We had Christmas dinner early in the afternoon, and both of us had a bite or two too many. It took some time to get up from the table and to the work of putting everything away. I helped her load the dishwasher, and then we went into the living room to watch Christmas specials on television.

Mom always made mulled wine for Christmas, and for the first time, I was allowed to indulge. I had always been a lightweight, and it went straight to my head. I was feeling pretty silly in short order, drawing a lot of eye rolls and shakes of Mom's head. She drank as well, making me think of the classy women from 50's movies the way she held her cup in a delicate grip with her pinky extended.

It was snowing outside, and started getting dark early, thanks to Daylight Savings. Mom sat on the opposite end of the couch from me as we watched the movies we'd seen dozens of times — laughing, smiling, or sighing depending upon what was on screen. We chatted about holiday memories during commercial breaks, and sometimes kept talking even once the movie returned. I was buzzed, and my emotions were steadily drifting back to days long past, before things had gone sour between Mom and Dad. For the first time in a long time, I was enjoying Christmas.

Later in the evening, after we'd recovered enough to have a bit more to eat, Mom returned from pouring us another cup of wine. Instead of taking the seat she'd left, she sat down on the cushion next to me instead. She rested her hand on mine, giving me chills.

"This is a nice change, honey."

"Yeah."

"I know that the holidays haven't exactly been pleasant for the last few years. Your father and me fighting, and then... Well, I wasn't myself for a while."

"It's okay. I know." To try to lighten the mood again, I said, "It's almost time to open one present, isn't it?"

Mom chuckled. "You used to be wound up as tight as a piano string from about four in the afternoon waiting for that."

"I've got a little more self-control now." Mom stretched as I was talking, causing her breasts to lift and jiggle just a little. Silently, I added, Over some things, anyway, as I felt blood rushing between my legs.

"I just can't get over how much you've grown up. It seems like just yesterday when you were my little boy, and now you're a man. More than that, you're a good man."

She reached up and stroked a finger across my cheek. "There's no need to blush. It's the truth. You took over as the man of the house, even when I was too depressed to care. I don't know if I ever would have gotten better if it wasn't for you."

"I just wanted to help. It was hard seeing you like that." She was still stroking her fingers over my neck, and that was making something else hard.

"You did — more than you probably know. Your father never would have helped with the cooking, or the dishes, or the cleaning. You take care of almost everything your father did, and more. A woman couldn't ask for anything more."

"Almost?" I said, lifting my eyebrows and smiling, not really thinking about it, because the touch of her fingers on my neck was giving me chills.

Mom blushed then — bright red — and she quickly took a drink of wine.

"I'll have to figure out what I missed," I said, admiring the flush in her cheeks.

"I think you already have," she quietly said. "Honey..." She trailed off, swallowed, and took a deep breath. Then, she looked away and put her cup down on the coffee table.

I could tell she was tense — nervous — and it sparked a bit of panic that what had happened the night before wasn't entirely forgotten.

She looked back at me. "I wasn't asleep that night, on the couch."

My mind reeled. While I was fondling her breasts and touching her thighs, she'd been awake — completely aware of what I was doing.

Again, her voice was quiet as she said, "That's the almost. That's what I'm missing. What I need."

I don't even remember what happened between those words and the kiss. This was no mere peck on the lips, like those we'd shared for so many years. My pulse raced as our tongues slipped over each other. A quiet moan escaped me when Mom lifted my hand, pressing it against her breast. A much louder one followed when her hand settled into my lap, over my rapidly hardening cock.

I wormed my fingers beneath her sweater as we kissed, finally able to feel the full weight and softness of her breasts. They were still restrained by a bra, and so I tugged upward on her sweater. Mom leaned back from the kiss, lifting her arms, and I could see the desire in her eyes. The sweater hadn't even settled into a woolen pool next to the couch before she unhooked her bra. It was red, matching her stockings, and accented with lace, but I only had a brief look before she tossed it aside.

Mom's breasts were heavy and pendulous. A wide circle of dark pink surrounded nipples that were small in comparison to the globes. The perfect beauty — dimly remembered — called to me, and I answered.

"Mmm, honey. Yes," she cooed as my lips closed around her right nipple, which was stiff with desire.

As I suckled and kissed her breasts, Mom cradled my head as she probably had when I was a baby. She moaned, running her fingers through my hair.

"Oh honey, it's been so long. Do you like them?"

"They're beautiful. Perfect," I said as I switched nipples.

Back and forth I went, listening to her coo, moan, and whimper in delight. I lifted them in my hands, squeezing gently, and teasing with my thumb whichever nipple I wasn't sucking at the moment. Her body undulated from my ministrations, but never enough to cause me to lose contact with the stiff buds.

Mom's fingers found my erection again, stroking along its length hidden beneath the denim. She squeezed and traced the outline, letting out a moan that sounded pleasantly surprised.

"Let me see how much you've grown," she whispered, her warm breath stirring my hair.

I let her nipple go with great reluctance, though I liked the sight of them even more glistening with my saliva.

Deft fingers unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans in less than a second. I lifted my butt off the couch as she tugged, pulling them away from the dark blue briefs beneath. She moaned again at the sight of the revealed bulge, and then looked up into my eyes as she continued to pull down on the denim.

I kicked my shoes off, letting them fall to the floor, and my jeans followed soon after. Mom gave me another squeeze through my briefs, causing me to groan, and then hooked her fingers beneath the elastic. She pulled downward, freeing my cock from its restrictive prison.

"Oh honey, it's bigger than your father's — and so gorgeous."

I couldn't help but smile when she said that.

"You're so hard," she said as she wrapped her hand around me. "I've never felt one so hard."

My briefs were still above my knees, so I shrugged them down as Mom squeezed and explored my cock with her hands. I saw her lick her lips, and the thought caused me to throb, but I knew what I really wanted.

She looked a little confused when I ran my hand down one leg, setting off a powerful throb in my manhood from the feeling of nylon over skin. I took off one shoe, and she kicked off the other. She still seemed perplexed until I lifted her foot higher, and between my legs.

The most sexy, crooked smile I'd ever beheld crossed her face, and she tugged on my near knee, encouraging me to pull my leg up on the couch. At the same time, she scooted to the other end. I leaned back against the arm, one leg along the back of the couch and the other resting on the floor.

The tip of her right big toe tickled my balls, making me gasp. "Do you like Mommy's stockings, honey?"

"Uh huh," I answered, unable to find any other words with her toes teasing me.

"I know. You didn't clean up quite as well as you thought you did."

My ears warmed as I realized that she'd known all along that I was jerking off with her stockings. She probably knew I was in the bathroom when I heard her using her vibrator, too.

A foot slipped behind my erection, standing it up. She turned the other sideways, nestling my cock in the arch and stroking it. I groaned, and a drop of pre-cum welled up from the tip.

If she hadn't done this before, she was a natural. She had remarkable dexterity with her toes, using the nylon clad digits to swirl over the head of my cock, trace the thick vein running along its length, and even curl around the shaft.

It must have been exciting for her too, because she squeezed her breasts and pinched the nipples, all the while, watching either my cock or looking into my eyes. Then, she lifted her skirt, revealing panties that matched the rest of her outfit. Two fingers pressed the cotton into her cleft, and she whimpered.

"Oh, Mom," I gasped, already feeling the itch in the tip of my cock after only a minute or so.

Her foot stroked faster up and down my length. "It's okay, honey. Come for me."

It was as if her permission was all my body was waiting on. A few strokes of her foot later, I let a loud grunt and came.

It wasn't the ferocious spurting I'd grown used to when masturbating, but no less intense. Cum erupted from the swollen head, hanging in the air for an instant before spattering back on my cock and Mom's feet. My cream dribbled down the shaft as she kept it held straight up and tickled it with her toes. I just kept pumping out little dribbles for what felt like eternity, each one accompanied by a chill that ran from head to toe, and caused every muscle to stiffen.

Mom moved her feet, and my head lolled back, leaving me staring at the ceiling as I panted for breath. I felt the couch shift, and looked up to see her pulling her feet under her, and leaning toward my still throbbing cock.

"Ah!" I cried out as her tongue slipped along my full length. When it reached the tip, her lips parted wider, and she took it in.

One last, fitful contraction pumped cum into Mom's mouth, and she let out a sharp, high-pitched moan around me. I couldn't believe my eyes as she took my cock in to the root, her nose nestled in the hair at the base. Then, she sucked slowly back to the head, cleaning up every drop of cum from my sensitive organ.

I was still in a fog as she slipped in behind my cock, lapping up the cum on my abdomen as well. She sat up straight, looking directly into my eyes, and licked her smiling lips.

My eyes snapped closed as I shuddered, and when I opened them, I saw Mom's skirt sliding down her legs to the floor. Her garter belt matched the rest of her lingerie, and she looked incredible standing next to me, bare-breasted but otherwise completely adorned in sexy, lacy red.

I opened my mouth to protest when she reached down to pop open one of the clips connecting her garters to the belt. She put a finger to her moist lips to shush me, and continued to unhook the rest, leaving the straps dangling along her thighs. When she stepped in next to me, fingers gliding over her panties, I realized why. With the straps hooked up, her panties wouldn't go past the top of her stockings.

She nodded down toward where her fingers still teased, and I realized what she wanted. I found new energy at the thought, and sat up to pull down her panties.

First, I saw a trimmed triangle of curls, slightly darker than the hair on her head. Then, more of the manicured nest that dipped into a thin valley. All the girls I had been with had shaved bare, and I found the sight of Mom's hairy pussy incredibly exciting.

Once her panties were past her knees, she gave a little wiggle and stepped out of them. She held out a hand, and I reached for it, allowing her to guide me to stand. My knees were still a little weak, but I felt like I was floating as she pulled me along. Her bare bottom danced for me, garter straps dangling and jingling, as did her bell earrings.

She led me to her bedroom, and then to the bed. There, she turned and pulled up on my shirt. Once it was on the floor at the foot of her bed, she pulled me close for a hungry kiss.

I kissed back, reaching behind her to squeeze her butt. Her breasts pressed against my chest, and I could feel the curls between her legs tickling me. When her lips left mine, she slipped one leg in behind mine, pressing her sex tight against my leg.

"Do you think you could do Mommy a favor, honey?" she asked in a sultry whisper.

Without waiting for an answer, she sat down on the bed behind her, and moved toward the pillows. I was right behind her, and fell onto my hands between her legs as soon as she parted them wide before me.

The scent of her womanly arousal was incredible — intoxicating. Far stronger than the hints of musky delight that had made me throb as I inhaled it from her panties. I took one deep breath, filling my lungs with her, and then settled my face between her thighs.

Mom let out a shuddering moan as I delved a furrow in her curls with my tongue, exposing her dark pink nether lips. I could taste her juices even with that single swipe, and didn't hesitate for even a moment before pressing my tongue into her folds. She let out a whimper, much like the one I'd heard the night before, but completely unrestrained this time.

I lapped, sucked, probed, and teased, exploring every inch of her with my mouth. Her hand came to rest on the back of my head, and when I looked up, I saw her rubbing her breasts with the other.

When our eyes met, she said, "Oh, honey, that feels so good. Your father was never that good."

"You taste so good, Mom," I said before pressing my tongue in deep for another drink of her nectar.

The long moan that had accompanied my tongue pushing into her canal changed into a yelp when I went directly to her clit afterwards.

"Right there, honey. Oh, right there."

I teased it with just the tip of my tongue, causing her fingers to tighten in my hair and her hips to rise up toward me.

"More. Faster. Please, honey."

Drunk on her juices, I did just that. I stiffened my tongue, rolling the swollen bud as fast as I could.

"Yes. Don't stop. Ohh, you're going to make me come. Make me come."

I kept up the pressure, though I was beginning to feel a crick in my neck. Both of her hands were on the back of my head, and her bottom hovered above the bed, holding me tight against her pussy — as if I had wanted to be anywhere else.

"Uh! Uh! Uh! Oh! Oh! Oh yes! Oh yesss!"

I knew she was coming when she screamed, and her thighs clamped down around my face. Her fingers dug into my scalp, but I didn't even notice the sting. She lurched and trembled, her clit twitching between my lips as I suckled it while she came.

A broken groan escaped her as she went limp, her legs falling heavily to the bed and straightening beside me. She pushed with weak hands against my head, and I sat up from between her legs after a final kiss over her clit.