Mother's Helper Ch. 02

Chapter 2 - Breakfast batter

The next morning, Matt was lying in bed, eyes closed but awake, not yet ready to get up. The teenager wondered about whether or not the previous night had been a fluke. Why had his sensuous young mother posed in his doorway in a revealing baby doll? After all, she could come on to any guy in town. Matt thought about what happenedÑand what to do next. She had almost seemed to be provoking him, teasing him. He'd been all too aware of her sensuality for the past couple of years.

He felt her kissing his cheek. "Good morning," she whispered in his ear, pleased to see he slept in the nude. He opened his eyes to see her, leaning over the bed in a burgundy silk robe, so thin you could see the baby doll beneath. "Morning, Mom. You're in a good mood!"

"Well, it's a beautiful spring weekend, and my handsome honey hasn't left yet for college!"

"Okay. Did you go to the mall yesterday?" She'd returned home with a small red shopping bag.

"Yes, I bought the other lingerie too, just like you told me to do."

"Good. Try it on and let me see."

"But Ð but it's a bra and panties," she objected.

"So? It's nothing different from all the bikinis I've seen you in."

"Oh, I suppose that's true. All right. Now?" He nodded.

She was in a bubbly mood as she returned to her room and put on the matching items. Her bedroom was on the west side of the house, where the morning light was dim and diffused. Excited to be modeling the expensive French set, she entered Matt's room. "Open the slats so I can see," he said. She tilted open a louver at hip height and another at chest level. Twin bars of sunlight streamed in, highlighting her purchase.

In the direct light, Matt began getting hard. She was nothing if not naive, he thought, riveted by the display. Although the full-cup bra had lace on the sides of the cups, and the panties had lace on the sides, the front of the bra and panties were a sheer dusky burgundy that, unbeknownst to her in her dark room, completely exposed her breasts and groin in the shafts of light.

Matt gawked at the sight of her thick licorice-colored nipples and, yes, shaved pussy. A tiny strip of cropped hair just emphasized the nudity of the thick lips beneath it. He couldn't believe his luck. It had been so easy to persuade her to do his bidding. "Well?" she asked, concerned about his reaction. "Are they okay?"

Matt's mouth was dry. "Well, let's see if they're comfortable in a different position. Stand at the foot of the bed facing me." She willingly complied, pleased to see how decisive her young man was becoming. "Now extend your feet to the sides and reach for the bedposts with your arms. Tuck in your butt." Dutifully, she spread her legs, toes pointed to the feet of the bed, and opened her arms, proud of her authoritative son. "Pretend it's one of your yoga postures." There stood his mother, spreadeagled at the foot of his bed. Janice actually enjoyed the position since she loved yoga so much, but she was unaware of the strain of the taut bra on her thrusting breasts and the panties pressing against her prominent mound. Matt kept her posed for long seconds, thinking how easy it had been.

"Good, that'll do." She relaxed her posture. "They're beautiful and you look great in them."

"Thanks, Matthew," she said, beaming.

"But you work out so hard, and your body's so tight that I think you shouldn't be so conservative. Why don't you go back to the mall today and buy something else. What do they call bras that are smaller?"

"Well, there's half bras and French bikini panties, then there's quarter or shelf bras. . . even thongs."

"What are they?"

"Umm, they supports the breast from underneath. . . but don't, ummm, don't actually c-cover them," she said, stumbling over her words.

"Okay. Get a quarter bra and bikini panties, plus a shelf bra and thong. All in black."

She blushed. "But Matthew, how could a mother like me wear a shelf bra and thong? That wouldn't be right."

"Mom, you're much too hot to act like a prude. Don't worry, just do it. You've got to think younger. Besides, you'll look great. All the girls wear thongs now. And it's my treat."

"Well, if you say so. Thanks, sweetie! Now, how about my serving your favorite breakfast as a reward?" she offered.

"Pancakes? Sounds good. I'll be right down."

When Matt walked into the kitchen and sat, wearing a robe and pajama bottoms, a large bowl of fresh batter stood on the table, ladle resting in it. Janice loved to cook. Standing at the counter in her silk robe, loosely belted, she was actually humming. "Mother, remember when I was a kid and we'd have food fights?"

"I sure do. Like the time I had made the cookie dough but it was too loose and stringy." She walked over to the table where he sat to get the bowl. "I thought I left a ladle in this," she said, puzzled.

"You did." Matt raised the large spoon from his lap and flicked it at her, splattering her entire front with batter. Janice was stunned, her face covered with goo, watching the creamy mess slide down her breasts and stomach. It reminded her of. . . .

"You horrible person!" she shrieked as they both broke into laughter. She straddled his chair, the stretched belt of her robe came undone, her strong thighs squeezing his. Giggling, she jumped on his lap, unaware of her groin resting on his. With her hands, Janice gathered up some batter off her breasts and, still laughing, smeared it on his smiling face. "You are so bad!" she laughed.

"That was fun!" he laughed, wiping the goo off his cheeks. "But that's enough horsing around!" he said in a deep voice of mock solemnity, wagging his pointer finger, coated with batter.

Without thinking, she lunged for his finger and took it in her mouth, clamping her teeth around the base. She eyed him, her eyes sparkling mischievously as if she might bite him. "Waste not, want not," he intoned in the same stern voice. She removed her teeth from the finger, closed her thick lips around it and slowly backed away, sucking off the thick batter. His cock twitched. Her hot mouth felt unbelievable.

"Mmmm, pretty good stuff, if I say so myself!" She had no idea her lips were covered with the stuff, looking like a sheen of fresh cum. She smiled at him.

"That felt great but it was beginner's luck."

"Ha!" she laughed throatily, "luck had nothing to do with it!" She was proud of her oral skills.

He wiped the other cheek with his middle finger and held it up, joined to his pointer finger. "Then do it again, but do it to both fingersÑif you can."

She hesitated, then, spurred by his taunt, leaned forward and, so caught up in the moment that she was na•ve to the implications, deep-throated his fingers. But this time, she sucked them off with the addition of her tongue, fluttering the undersides, hips squirming on his lap. "Ooohhh!" he said, his cock twitching against her damp panties, taken off guard by the way she sucked his fingers in until they disappeared. Suddenly crimson with shame at the crude symbolism of what she'd done, she broke off and stood, shocked and dismayed at her behavior, but undeniably aroused.

"Clean your robe before the silk is ruined," Matt said, his voice hoarse from arousal, his cock twitching.

"Good idea." She went to the sink and began running water, glad to be busy in order to put that scandalous moment behind them. But it was too late; she'd already inspired her son.

"No, Mother. You've got to take it off to do a proper job."

"Oh. . . okay." She shrugged the robe off her shoulders and began rinsing the spots, her ass as clear as day beneath the burgundy gauze of the panties. While she concentrated at the sink, he placed the bowl of batter in the microwave. At the other end of the kitchen, she was oblivious, leaning over the sink, legs spread for balance and focused on her washing. She didn't notice when he used the microwave.

Matt removed the steaming batter, quietly walked behind her, yanked open the waist of her panties, and poured a ladle of the warm mix down her rear. She stiffened at the shock, but to his surprise didn't yell or move. Instead, she moaned as he watched the glop course down her crack and pool in the bottom of the panties. The shock of his prank was ameliorated by how good the hot mix felt. He pushed and rubbed on the panties, his middle finger over the crack of her ass, so the batter penetrated her ass cheeks. Her head hanging, she said, "You are such a joker," in a rasping voice, turning around and raising her arm to playfully slap him. But Matt saw the move coming and grabbed her wrist, lowering it to her side and holding the other wrist as well. "I thought you said enough horsing around?" she asked, her full, greasy lips in a pout.

"Well, I was inspired by seeing you again in your new baby doll. Besides, I bet the batter actually feels good, doesn't it?" Reluctantly, she nodded, eyes downcast. "Just one more thing, Mother, I promise. It'll feel great. All you have to do is close your eyes and tilt your head back." Gently, Matt held the hair at the back of her head and tilted it backward, causing her breasts to thrust outward. He pulled the top of her baby doll away from her and poured the still-hot batter onto the right side of her chest. "Ohhh," she groaned as the curtain of off-white paste descended onto her right breast, her pelvis shaking against the edge of the counter and banging into his groin. He released the fabric, pulled back the other side, and poured the rest of the ladle onto the left side of her chest. "Uhhh," she moaned, licking her batter-smeared lips and relishing the wet warmth covering her nipples. "That was very fresh of you, Matthew."

"Fun with food is now done," he said as she slowly opened her eyes, staring at him with a mixture of humiliation and awe. He sat at the table, put his legs up on another chair and crossed his arms. "Now take off that wet baby doll, put on your robe and let's eat."

She was still leaning against the counter, her groin thrust forward. "You mean, here, with nothing on, in the kitchen, in broad daylight?" she asked, feeling a fresh wave of embarrassment. It was just that the embarrassment was mixed with excitement at the thought of disrobing in front of her son.

Matt simply nodded. "It's not such a big deal these days. People aren't so conservative any more. They go to nude beaches all the time."

"But the robe is wet as well." He sat there, smiling slightly, impervious to her objection, waiting. Her son was telling her to strip. Why couldn't she say "No"? After all, it would only be for a few seconds, until she wore the robe.

"Do it," he said in a stern, no-nonsense voice. "And I'm getting tired of you being so argumentative. Don't I usually do the things you ask me to?" Slowly, she turned her back to him, her pulse racing from indecision. Impetuously, Matt leapt up and strode to her side, smacking her butt hard. "Don't make me wait longer," he warned, walking back to his chair.

Her pulse pounding, slightly dizzy, Janice pulled the shoulder straps down her toned arms. The clinging fabric made a sucking sound when she pulled it off her breasts. She dropped the soggy mass at her feet. It did feel better to have the mess off her. Matt admired her strong shoulder blades and noticed strands of batter dripping off her front. Janice flicked the gunk off her breasts, but she was really doing it to surreptitiously caress her breasts and flick her fingers across her nipples. Her other hand reached into the gooey panties and stroked her slit. A half-minute passed, Matt willing for her to go slowly.

"Now the panties," he ordered. She stopped fingering herself, frozen. "Or do I have to tell the Dean at school that you parade around at night in a baby doll?" She shuddered at the realization of her inexcusable behavior.

"Matthew, I just thought you'd enjoy it. IÐI wasn't thinking. Please don't say anything to anybody! I'll listen better to what you want, I promise!" Slowly, she hooked her thumbs inside the wet panties and pulled the tight fabric down. The sucking sounded even louder as the fabric was separated from her ass and large pussy lips. When she'd lowered the panties a few inches, he said, "Stop." Twin strands of the mix dripped down, one from each cunt lip to the panties. God, she looked beautiful, Matt thought, the golden morning sunlight highlighting her ass. Her ass crack looked as if a whole bunch of guys had jerked off on it. "Continue," he said.

She dragged the panties to her knees, whereupon they collapsed in a soggy heap on the floor. She stepped out of them. Janice felt ashamed but also felt a strange combination of pride, strength and freedom. Proud because she knew she had a great body, strength because she was able to comply with Matt's wishes, and freedom because it was somehow liberating to be finally standing naked in front of her boy. If she had no boyfriend, why couldn't she please her son? Besides, there was no doubt she had his full attention, not easy with an impatient teenager.

"Okay? Is that enough?" she asked, turning her head over her shoulder to see him, exposing part of her gooey breast to his ogling.

"No. Pick up that mess." She spread her feet and began to slowly bend her knees.

"Stop. Stand up straight." She obeyed. "It's time for more yoga stretching. Bend from the waist until your hands touch the floor." She widened her stance for balance and leaned over. He felt hypnotized by her long legs. When her hands touched the bra and panties, he said, "Hold that pose." He had a perfect view in the sunny kitchen. He would never have believed it. His mother was blatantly exposing her shaved slit to him. Matt was awestruck by the large, reddened, moist lips that extended down and the dusky, dark pink ring of her ass. Thick drops of batter slid down her roseate rear opening and across her labial lips, slowly dripping to the floor. Janice relished the pose, open to her son, because that's what he wanted. And stretching felt wonderful.

He cleared his throat after a minute passed. "That's enough." She picked up the bra and panties, straightened and walked to the sink, eyeing his bulging lap with a smirk. Teenage boys were so easy to turn on! She wrung out the robe and put it on, tying the sash tightly so he wouldn't see her batter-covered breasts. She made pancakes and bacon and served breakfast while Matt read the morning paper, the air charged with tension.

She was distracted the entire time she cooked, reliving the surreal experience in all its lurid shame. Yet she had loved how improper, how provocative it had been. It was no surprise that the first set of Swedish pancakes she served him was burned and that the bacon was overcooked. When he looked up from the newspaper to see the blackened discs on his plate, he grabbed her wrist. "Mother, look what you did."

Janice broke out of her daydream. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Matthew!" she cried, ashamed at being too preoccupied to make even simple pancakes properly.

"And the bacon is overcooked." She looked, aghast.

"Ummm, I'm really sorry," she muttered. "I'm so scattered." She removed the offending food and cooked a new batch properly. Matt watched her back, wondering if she, being such an accomplished cook, had overcooked them on purpose, in order to be punished.

They ate quietly. He complimented her on the properly cooked meal. She was acutely aware of the wet robe clinging to her breasts, her nipples hardening. In fact, they were perfectly outlined under the thin fabric. Noting how her nipples grew longer as the wet silk chilled, he looked at her and said, "This is the absolute favorite of all my favorite breakfasts! And you are so much fun to fool around with!" she looked at him, smiling. "However, I will not forget that you blew it with the first batch, wasting good food. Saying you're sorry is not enough. I'll have to figure out some punishment, so you don't wreck breakfast again."

She laughed nervously. "What do you mean, a punishment? I'm the adult here!"

"As the man in the house, I'm responsible for things. And wasting food is not acting like a responsible adult."

"What sort of punishment?" she asked in a barely audible voice, breathing shallowly.

"You'll see in good time. At least you won't be grounded in your room! Or have the car keys taken away." She looked up from her plate, giving him a long, serious, searching look.