Mum Comes House-Hunting Ch. 01

Dear Mum, she's a proper sweetheart - anyone would fall in love with her! Her name's Titania - after the queen of the fairies, simply because my grandfather loved Shakespeare! Oh well - now you can understand why I don't call her by her Christian name - can you just hear me calling her Titty...however correct and accurate that abbreviation might be!

Anyway, she's five foot four and I'd guess she weighs in around eight stone or so - that's hundred and twenty pounds give or take a bit and I'd guess some sixty pounds less than me. She's quite buxom really but that merely seemed to enhance her allure. Actually the dictionary definition of buxom is "plump, with a full figure and large breasts" - so perhaps I'm being a bit rude about her, although not necessarily about her breasts!

At least the definition is partially right because she's sweetly padded in all the right places, so much so that your eyes tend to follow her around a room with vaguely lustful feelings that us men have for a good looking woman. The best thing about her body is definitely that her breasts, generous as they are, still seem to still be remarkably perky. Perhaps her bra helps but I've a feeling that nature has done her proud and given her some fine upstanding mammaries! Mother Nature certainly gave her some great legs and a gorgeously well turned bum - not to mention a lovely warm and friendly face. And she's got those wicked come-to-bed eyes - not that I let them influence my mind!

I was always pleased that she'd obviously managed to pass a lot of her genes on to me - I'm so glad I didn't take after Dad!

When my Mother phoned me one day I wasn't surprised - but I was shocked by what she said.

"Darling, you'd better sit down," she said, her voice comforting, "I've got some really bad news; it's about your Dad."

And she went on to tell me that my Dad, my grumpy, morose, boring Dad had been killed - run down by a fork lift truck as he checked some stock in the factory yard.

Within minutes I'd dropped everything and in hours I was at Mum's side, only to find her hardly grieving at all as she told me the story.

I won't bore you with the details but it seemed that he'd strayed from the 'safe' area of the factory for some reason and although the company had tried to blame him, eventually they had to take the blame and Mum was paid compensation quite handsomely. On top of that, Dad was also reasonably well insured too.

And that evening her side of her story came out - my Dad hadn't been much of a husband - he'd been too domineering, too career centred; too inconsiderate - and Mum actually felt relieved to be rid of him. Suddenly she was going to be able to live her life the way she wanted to; able to express herself; able to enjoy herself again. She was still young and felt that life had been passing her by...

But there was the small matter of her house. It was once the home for the whole family home but now, containing just Mum and a cat, it was way too big and while it may have held many memories, it was now also an expensive waste of space, so it had to go. And it also seemed that Mum wouldn't object to leaving some of the memories behind, for that matter.

I have to be honest in that when I'd tried to look at the future, it had always been my hope that Dad would be the first to pass away as I never really fancied the idea of having to visit the old boy should he be the one to outlive the other, whereas visiting my Mother was no chore at all. In reality it seemed eminently likely that he would go first anyway, he being fifteen years older than my Mum although I'd never considered that an accident might take him away so early.

I'd been born when my Mother had just turned twenty and now, some twenty years later, she was still relatively youthful while I'd just about matured. There may have been that twenty year difference between us but we had many of the same pleasures in life.

Both my Mother and I are relatively proficient artists and enthusiastic writers so I guess I've acquired my interests from her genes and her knowledge. So much so that my life is now encapsulated by those skills - apart from my painting, I'm an illustrator for a major educational book publisher, as well as writing my own wildlife books. Well, just two books so far to be honest. Delightfully, those occupations are relatively stress-free - quality of work being given more credence and earning me more than quantity.

Dad on the other hand had been too much of a cold businessman for my liking - he just dealt in money and people. He was quite happy sitting behind a desk telling the rest of the world how to do things - an activity that I took little joy in doing and I'd even told him as much. But at least he was successful in his business world - I couldn't take that away from him.

My Mother was something of a 'trophy wife' in my opinion and truthfully I was surprised that their marriage lasted as long as it did. I'd have left the old so-and-so years before if I'd been my Mother, but she must have garnered some pleasures from her marriage. A good degree of security was her best outcome; Dad's insurances on top of a good pay-off and pension package left my Mother almost better off without him.

But she needed to dispose of his other prize possession - the large house and all its trappings and inevitably I became roped in to help.

So that's enough chatter - down to business...

Once Mum had got over the grief and all the paperwork, her mind immediately turned to her future and she called me to her side - not that I'd ever been all that far away.

"Chris darling, I'll need your help," she said in a straightforward manner on the phone, "I'm going to be house-hunting for a while, so could you find the time to help me, just for a little while? You can spare a bit of time, surely?"

"Of course I can," I replied cheerfully, "Be glad to help out; what're your plans?"

"I want to have a good look down on the south coast, I think, somewhere down near you perhaps," said Mum, "I've already had an agent come and take particulars of this house, so they'll look after this end but I do need to find the right place; the ideal place, that is."

"Ah - that'll be wonderful - you'd love it down here and it'll be excellent to have you near me. But you're not going to look for a house from a hundred miles away, are you? You're not going to drive down and then back again," I asked, "Surely not."

"No sweetheart," said Mum, her voice silky smooth and soft, "Of course not - that's why I phoned you. I wanted to ask if you could put me up for a week or two while I searched...perhaps you could even find time to take me round a few places as well."

"Of course I would Mum!" I replied happily, "The spare bedroom's always ready and I'm quite sure work can allow me as much spare time as you need - why, when were you thinking of coming down?"

She didn't need to apply any guile - I'd have done anything for her regardless...

"Couple of weeks time perhaps," said Mum cheerfully, "It'll be so lovely to see you - seems ages since we had a good get-together."

The conversation drifted off into odds and ends and eventually the call ended and I returned to my computer, but my mind wouldn't concentrate; instead my thoughts were suddenly below my waist as I realised that my cock was kind of half erect as if coiled and ready for quick action...but with whom?

Not my Mother, surely not!

I shook my head as I wondered why my penis had come awake while I'd been talking to my Mum. Yes, she'd been wheedling at me, softly speaking to me, but then she was always warm and friendly on the phone, so what else? Had it been the idea of Mum coming and staying with me for a while - perhaps that was it. Must have been, I eventually decided - just the idea of a woman sharing my house again was quite appealing, apparently.

My home needed a woman in it again. My wife and I had split up over a year ago; an amicable divorce followed a relatively short marriage and after I'd made a cash settlement to her I'd been left with few ties and a house to myself (and the bank of course). My granddad had died when I was quite young and had left a nice pile of cash in trust for me for when I turned twenty-one; hence the house; which was also why I won most of it back in the settlement. I'd bought it with plans for a family but now it's quite a large home for just me - four bedrooms, two bathrooms - along with a generous garden for that matter. My house is above the town proper, peacefully tucked away above the outer suburbs and with extensive views - those views substantially boosting the desirability of the house, or so my neighbours have told me.

Fortunately I'm an independent soul and I'm quite capable of cooking, cleaning and so on all by myself so I hadn't let it all get messy. The only thing I'm not so good at by myself is sex - tossing off; jerking off or having a wank alone can be remarkably boring after a while, can't it?

Oh well - never mind; down to work - but not 'work' as in writing or illustrating; instead I found myself getting the vacuum cleaner and polish out; checking that the house was presentable and the beds aired, etc.

I always had beds ready to make up in three bedrooms, the fourth bedroom currently being just a useful place to store things and now I prepared the other front bedroom for my Mother, checking the room with extra care. I wanted her to be happy here...

But even doing such mundane tasks I found my mind wandering, smoothing down the covers as if I was caressing a woman's sleek flanks or belly, holding the pillows as if holding soft and well-filled breasts; finding myself becoming aroused in no time.

Eventually I flung myself down on my own bed, ripped off my t-shirt and wriggled my jeans down to my knees. There was something that needed taking care of; that just wouldn't stop pestering me - my cock.

My rock hard, fully erect uncut throbbing cock that seemed to have only heard one word - woman! And that meant that it could be put to use - it hoped! My cock had no conscience; he merely responded to stimuli; he just wanted and expected action! But right now he'd have to put up with me doing it.

I lay on my back as I wanked, my hand sliding steadily up and down my shaft as my mind created pictures for me; pictures of a magnificent pair of swelling breasts being seductively exposed; of a prettily dimpled navel; of light-coloured knickers sliding down over swelling hips to reveal an enticing forest of curly hairs and a moist puffy slit. A peachy bum, sweetly split and those smooth, sleek thighs - ooooohhh yeahhhhh!

My hand worked faster in time with my imagination as the mysterious woman lowered herself astride my cock; her lips parting to engulf my polished, slippery, shiny knob; to let my eager length slide inside her hot liquefied opening. Her smooth tummy descended until her hole had engulfed my entire penis; until her pubes met mine; until she could lean forward to dangle her full breasts before my face. I reached up with my lips and tongue and sucked one of her raspberry-sized nipples into my mouth, my tongue swirling around the imagined nipple, my eyes closed, my hand still busy.

The woman's imaginary pussy was now working on my cock, squeezing and caressing it, sucking and smoothing it, bringing feelings to my mind, bringing spunk to my balls.

My hand worked faster and faster as my dream woman rose and fell, her breasts bouncing wildly now, her aroma strong in my nostrils and in the sensory parts of my brain; driving me wild with excitement.

And suddenly nothing could stop the powerful orgasm from peaking; overload was happening; erotic gates had been smashed open; archaic feelings from the annals of time were powering a primeval response - an upthrust of the hips; a pulsating of the gonads and penis; an eruption of semen...not into a receptive womb but through my fist - overflowing strongly to splatter down onto my chest, time and time again.

"Ooooohhh yeahhhh! Uuuuuhhhh, fuck!" I panted, "Oh fuckin' hell - yeahhh, yeahhhhh!"

Finally I could breathe properly again, dragging urgently needed oxygen into my labouring lungs until the tremors subsided and became mere quiverings of the flesh.

Finally I resurfaced and shook my head clear of those images while I felt around for the towel I'd put handy, then wiped the spunk from my body.

And eventually I sat up; feeling relieved and yet somehow disenchanted; perhaps even deprived.

The woman of my dreams was there and then gone, leaving me sated but wondering.

Who indeed was that woman? I had no idea except that I could still visualise her body; mature yet still, to me, as desirable as a nymph.

My urgent penis was pacified for now though and soon I was up and busy once more, my mind now clear of sexual thoughts as I finished my housework before settling myself once more at my computer; the need to fulfil my obligations to my publisher now at the forefront of my mind once more.

The day rolled inexorably along and suddenly I realised it was time to eat - well past time actually, so absorbed had I become.

And scorning diets, I made a nice dish of pasta with bits and pieces to go in it and over it and soon I was replete and reclining before the television with a can of lager in my hand, idly letting the world do its own thing. Life was good - well, at least it wasn't too tough, even if it was a bit boring at times without a good woman...

The days passed and then Mum was on the blower again - she'd be heading my way in the morning so she expected to be with me by lunchtime. I promised I'd get something ready for her and told her to take care and that I loved her; sentiments that were real and honest and which Mum returned to me as well.

I was positively bouncing with excitement that morning; Mum had never stayed with me before; it was going to be something of a culture shock no doubt, but fun nevertheless and I could hardly wait for her to arrive...but arrive she did, spot on time.

"Darling - so good to see you!" murmured Mum as she levered herself out of her car and embraced me, "Mmmm, you look so fit, so well; you're looking so handsome too!"

"So are you Mum," I replied as her generous breasts squashed firmly against my chest, "No, I don't mean handsome - I mean you're...you're beautiful!"

Mum beamed her pleasure, but beside her happiness I also felt that she was glowing with some kind of sexual power; somehow today she seemed to have an attractiveness that had nothing to do with just plain love or words.

We chuckled and joked together as she let me collect her bags and then, arm in arm, we made our way indoors, Mum distracted as she looked around.

"Isn't it lovely here," she said admiringly as she took in the view from the lounge, "What a wonderful place you have - I never realised it was so nice. Aren't you lucky to live here!"

As she spoke she divested herself of her jacket and stood there in the window in a pleasingly short skirt and pretty floral blouse, the sunlight enhancing her remarkably delectable outline, her happy face and her glowing hair. I felt my body and my penis respond to the sight - Mother or not, she was still a pretty woman, well worth at least a second glance, not to mention the way her body stirred something inside me.

Eventually she turned and came back to me, her sweet smile warming the very cockles of my heart; then reaching parts that it shouldn't have reached.

"Come on then darling, which room am I having?" she asked and I reached out to grasp her hand and to guide her upstairs.

She followed me readily as we mounted the stairs until I showed her into the big bedroom adjacent to mine, which also looked out over the garden, the lower part of the town and the bay - and once again Mum was captivated - by the room and by the view.

"Oh darling, this is blissful," she said happily, "Oh, I could just stand here all day looking at that view - there's so much to see everywhere."

I glowed happily as Mum now crossed the room and sat on the big double bed, bouncing up and down to test the mattress.

"Mmmmm, lovely and bouncy," she said with a wicked smile, "I'm going to sleep so well - like the proverbial log!"

We headed back downstairs where we made plans for her forthcoming outings. Mum had already obtained details of quite a number of properties and although I, with my local knowledge, had been able to tell her to ignore several of them, there were still the best part of a dozen properties to investigate, so we'd be busy for a while.

But so what - my Mum was with me and I could happily spend many hours in her company so it really wasn't going to be much of a chore.

We picked a selection of bungalows to view on the morrow, then settled down to lunch and to a peaceful chatty afternoon, Mum already completely 'at home' and relaxed.

"So how's life down here on your own?" she asked as we toured the garden, "Lonely?"

"Hmmmm, so-so," I replied, "But I've always got my work if I need something to occupy myself."

"Don't you miss having a woman around though?" she continued, "You seemed to be very attached to Jan until whatever happened...and what did really happen then?"

I couldn't keep anything from Mum, not that I wanted to hide anything, so I told her.

"Oh - I wanted to have some kids before I got too old," I said, "But Jan wasn't the motherly sort, I reckon; she wanted us to wait. She was a great wife and she was lovely but we just didn't see eye to eye over that and eventually that's what broke us up. Guess we should have found a way round it but it happened so that's that."

"What a pity," replied Mum, turning to me, "You'd have made a wonderful father...oh well, you're still so young. Oh well, you could easily start again, couldn't you?"

At twenty-three I had many, many years of life left in me and I still hankered after a family, so I agreed with her, while adding my own thoughts.

"I think I've become too attached to my work now though," I said as Mum and I now sat in the garden seat, our legs occasionally touching lightly, "Don't seem to find time for such things."

"Hmmm, we'll have to do something about that!" replied Mum, her hand coming to rest lightly on my thigh, "Have to see if I can get you fixed up with someone..."

I chuckled at the thought of Mum being a matchmaker but appreciated her concern - however, my heart wasn't into such an idea; my concern was for Mum and her own loneliness.

"What about you though?" I asked, "Aren't you too young to be on your own?"

"I'd love to find another man," said Mum, her hand soothingly sliding up and down my thigh, "But who'd have me at my age?"

"Mum, don't be stupid! You've not long turned forty - you're still in the prime of life," I said, "And any man would be proud to have you - heck, even I would."

I meant that as an innocent remark to express my opinion that she was generally desirable and it was only once I'd spoken that I realised exactly what I'd just said. I felt myself blushing quickly but Mum didn't seem to notice my blushing or my faux pas.

"No way," replied Mum coyly, her fingers squeezing me gently, "An old biddy like me?"

I scanned up and down her body, admiring her slim, smooth exposed legs; her trim waist, her slowly rising and falling bust and her cheerful, pretty face.

"Don't belittle yourself," I said seriously, "You're a very pretty woman and you're far too young to even think of being an old biddy. In fact I reckon you look better than some of the much younger woman I've met."

Mum leaned towards me and kissed my cheek, a warm soft kiss that sent waves of comfort through me and other feelings too, that seemed overtly and unexpectedly sexual. I lifted my arm and passed it behind her to reach around her back and to pull her to me, my fingers coming to rest briefly on the swell of the side of her breast as I did so, feeling something else begin to swell as I made contact.