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Mum and Me Part Three

Mum and Me, Part Three {John Jabbin} {mF Inc Mdom}

jjabbin@yahoo.com

Other stories at:

ftp://ftp.asstr.org/pub/Authors/Jabbin/

Often after the first installment of a series is well

received, people feel that there's no need to let the

author know they've enjoyed each subsequent portion.

Let me disabuse you of this theory. With each

subsequent chapter it become even more important to

provide feedback so that the author knows there is

still interest.

Such feedback is the only price that most authors that

post to ASSM ask. If you want to read more, you ought

to pay the price by letting me know you liked this

perverse tale. Writers need feedback in order to become

better writers. If you don't let us know what you like,

don't complain that there are no good stories. Any

comments, bad or good, are welcome. Write me at the e-

mail address above.

If you're a minor, don't read this. If it's illegal in

your country to be in possession of stories about sex,

please destroy all copies of this work. Practice safe

sex reading please.



Mum and Me, Part Three

by John Jabbin

Mum was feeling very bad about what we had done on the

divan. I think she blamed herself more than me, but she

didn't want to have too much to do with me either.

"Is everything okay, Mum?" I asked her over dinner that

evening.

"No, John, it's not okay. Twice today I've let things

get out of hand between you and me and I'm not the

least bit happy about it."

Mum's hand was lying on the table between us. I reached

down and took her hand in mine, even though she made a

bit of effort to take it back.

"Come now, let me just hold my mum's hand. I'll behave,

dear. I promise."

With a show of reluctance, she settled down and I held

her hand tenderly as we ate.

"Mum, I know you're not happy with me just now, but I'd

like to tell you that today has been a very lovely day

for me. I feel closer to you than I think I've ever

been. I've really enjoyed spending the day with you,

and not just the parts you think. I enjoyed going

shopping and I enjoyed our meals together. I even

enjoyed massaging your feet, and I don't mean the

naughty part. I hope I didn't ruin my chances of

getting to rub your feet each night for you when you

come home from work."

"I don't know about that, John. I don't think that

would be a good idea."

"I know I'm green and there's a lot I have to learn,

but I want to be a gentleman and learn to treat a lady

right."

"Yes, there's still a lot for you to learn, young man,

but there are some lessons that a mother isn't suppose

to be teaching her son."

"Then where am I to learn them? The neighborhood girls

my age can't teach me those lessons. Believe me, I've

tried." Mum's face grew shocked as the realization of

my admitted promiscuity dawned on her. "I guess I'll

just have to find some sympathetic older lady in the

neighborhood. Are there any gals your age you'd

recommend?"

"Jonathan! You stop such talk this instant. You're only

fifteen-years-old, son. You don't have any business

with a woman my age."

"Well, I was hoping it wouldn't be business, since I

don't have a job or any money. Okay, I know that was

cheeky. It was joke, Mum. Not the part about being

interested in an older woman, I was serious about

that."

"Son, you need to take your time and grow up. Just

enjoy being young and hanging out with your mates."

"Mum, my 'mates,' usually hang around on corners

getting pissed or trying to get laid, pardon my French.

Now, I know you think that just means I need new mates,

but it isn't that easy. Most of the blokes my age are

either completely clueless or too very much clued in.

There's not a lot of safe, 'middle ground' these days.

"And besides, Mum, " I went on, giving Mum's hand a

little squeeze as I did. "I'd really rather be spending

my time with the ladies than getting sotted on your

money or getting into trouble. I'm afraid you've

whelped an incorrigible philanderer, Mum, even though

it's not your fault."

"Oh, John! What am I to do with you? You need a man

around the house to keep you straight, but I've none

available."

"Don't fret yourself over that, Mum. A lot of the

blokes I know have men about the house and most of them

are worse off than me. You've done a good job, so far.

You're not that disappointed in me, are you now?"

"I'm not disappointed in you, John. You're a bright lad

and too handsome for your own good. I just wish you'd

apply yourself to something more constructive."

"Well now, I'm trying to be constructive, Mum, in my

own way. But let's get back to that 'handsome' thing.

Tell me what you think is my best feature," I quipped,

mugging for her by turning my head from side to side

giving her a profile.

"You are incorrigible," Mum laughed gaily, squeezing my

hand.

"Now see, I think that's one of my best features, too.

I'm glad we agree."

We ate the rest of the meal in a more companionable

silence. At least I'd pulled Mum out of her funk. She

still let me hold her hand, but in every other way she

kept a discreet distance.

Usually I tried to get out and around on Saturday

evenings, but it was getting late anyway, so I decided

to stay in. Besides, what I had been telling Mum about

not really enjoying hanging around a bunch of drunken

sots was pretty true. The first couple of times I did

it were fun. Lately it had begun to wear thin.

I don't really like to be drunk myself. I'm the kind

that likes to stay in control. It was fun getting the

drunks to do things they might not normally do, to

exercise a little control over them. But the fun of

controlling another person for me is when they know you

control them. When you can get someone to do what you

want them to do, and get them to love doing it, that's

what I enjoy most.

But, that didn't mean I wasn't planning to enjoy

myself tonight. I still had Mum, after all.

Mum and I did the dishes together. She washed and I

dried. We hadn't made much of a mess with just the two

of us, but we enjoyed the time just being together.

Whenever she would hand me a dish, I'd allow our hands

to briefly touch. At first, Mum shied away from such

caresses. But after she realized I could touch her

without going farther than she felt comfortable going,

she began to relax again.

"Do you miss not being married, Mum?" I asked her,

trying to catch her in a softer mood.

"Hmm, that's a good question. I don't miss your Dad. He

wasn't very nice in the end. But, yes, I do miss being

married. I enjoyed having a man about the house and

doing things for him. At least, let's say I miss the

idea of being married."

"How come you didn't get married again, Mum?"

"I suppose the experience with your Dad made me a

little jaded. It's not that I'm not interested in

finding a man, but I'm not in any hurry and he'd have

to be the right man this next time. I'm not interested

in making another mess to clean up, physically and

emotionally."

"But I haven't seen you date anyone or really be

interested in a man in a long time, Mum. You can't just

turn off all those feelings, can you? That doesn't

sound healthy."

"Well now, John. Suddenly you're interested in my

emotional health, are you? No, it isn't healthy to try

and turn off your feelings, dear. I don't think I've

done that. I'm just trying to be careful. My problem is

I usually get too emotionally attached."

Mum was tired and it was getting late. I gave her a

respectable peck on the cheek before she could object

and she went up to take a bath and go to bed. I watched

the tele for a bit, but my mind wasn't really in it.

I kept thinking of Mum and what we'd done and what I'd

decided. The more we talked and the more that happened,

the more I was sure that it was the right thing to

seduce Mum. She wasn't happy right now. She needed a

man and I couldn't stand the thought of her bringing

home somebody. It's not that I'd be jealous, although I

would be. But I couldn't stand some man coming into our

home thinking he could order me around. I would have

definite authority problems with that.

With the tele playing low, I fell asleep on the divan.

When I woke up, hours later, I remembered a vivid

dream.

I dreamed that I was rubbing Mum's feet on the divan,

just like before. Only this time, she was naked. My own

foot was stretched out between her legs and my toes

were wiggling in her pubic hair.

Mum was protesting, but I kept rubbing her feet and

wiggling my toes. My foot became wet with her moisture.

Mum's nipples were huge and very hard and as she rocked

on my foot they made little circles in the air. In my

dream, I watched them, fascinated.

Then I was pushing her backward. It seemed to take

forever as she leaned back onto her bed. Suddenly, as

can only happen in a dream, we were in her bed. She

went back and back and back until her strawberry blonde

head hit the pillow. Her curls bounced in slow motion

around her head and seemed to get closer and closer as

I moved on top of her.

My dream Mum tried to push me away with her hands, but

her legs seemed to wrap around me and draw me in. I

felt my cock sliding into her, even as she protested I

should stop.

Then we were fucking, slow and steady, and Mum's arms

were around me and her hips were thrusting up at me,

too. She was moaning wetly in my ear and grunting every

time I came down on top of her. I could feel her

nipples poking into my chest, but it was the little

grunts each time that drove me wild.

And then she was kneeling before me with my cock

sliding in and out of Mum's lovely mouth. Her lips were

wet and slick and she took me deep with every thrust.

As I sped up, she moaned and the moaning set off

vibrations in my prick. When it slid in all the way,

her moan was punctuated with a grunt as if to put a

period to how deep I could go.

Then we were shopping, and Mum was still naked. But the

main difference was that she was being very

deferential. She was humbly asking my opinion and the

things I rejected she quickly tossed away. She asked me

about a black dress. I told her it was fine and she

quickly ran away, moving on the balls of her feet

hurriedly.

She came back in the black dress in just a moment. We

stood before the looking glass and my hands glided

around to fondle her breasts. There, in the store, I

touched up Mum with strangers walking by, even going so

far as to push her up against the glass.

With her cheek pressed against the cool glass, her butt

pushed out and I finger-fucked her gently. Then

eventually, not so gently. Every time my fingers slid

in deep, Mum grunted and thanked me. Her grunts became

whimpers and her whimpers became little keens of

ecstasy. Just before she came, I awaken with a start.

I woke up sweating, my breath coming in gasps for a

moment. My prick was absolutely throbbing. I thrust my

hands in my shorts and began slowly pumping my hard

shaft. I closed my eyes again, thinking about Mum,

thinking about her pressed against the mirror.

In a waking fantasy this time, mentally directing the

action, I fucked into Mum. Her breath came hard and

hot, steaming up the looking glass. I was fucking her

as hard as I could, as fast as my hands could jack my

cock. In my mind I heard her grunting, grunting every

time I pressed in. Sweet, delicate Mum, grunting like a

whore, grunting every time I fucked her.

There on the divan, I came a second time today to

fantasies of Mum. Thick, sticky strands of cum shot

out, soaking the tail of my shirt and also soaking my

belly. I continued, imagining my cock sliding into her,

until the last of my jism oozed out of me.

The stillness of downstairs was broken only by my harsh

breathing. I had never tossed off with Mum in the house

except behind the closed doors of my bedroom or in the

shower. But even if she had caught me, tonight I

wouldn't have minded.

I cleaned up downstairs and wiped my face. It's a good

thing that Mum sleeps so soundly. She used to say she

could sleep through anything. Me, I'm right the

opposite. Not only do I wake up easy, but also I don't

sleep very long every night. About four or five hours

is all I need.

I went upstairs and put my cum-soaked shirt in the

laundry and changed into a fresh one. Then, starting to

get very tired again, I crept into Mum's bedroom.

In the dim room I could barely see her. More by sound

than sight, I followed the shallow breathing noises to

Mum's bedside. I could just make out by the blonde hair

against the pillow that she was lying on her side,

facing away from me.

So very gently and easily, I slipped into bed behind

her. I lay my head on the pillow next to hers and

breathed in the scent of her freshly bathed aroma.

I breathed in the scent of her and thought about my

dream. Even as my cock grew harder, I stifled a yawn

and slowly fell asleep with thoughts of fucking mother.