She asked if I’d like to follow her home from the bar for a nightcap. Sure, I said and then asked her if she was the nightcap.
She left me in the living room and returned wearing a towel and asked if I’d like to join her in the shower.
Afterwards, she led me to the bedroom and grabbed a jar off her dresser.
She opened it and stood facing me while rubbing her body with a white cream from the jar. I felt like my long dead critical mother was in the room watching and tsk tsking. I began to skive out about my mother, thinking she was for sure now in the room.
Get away from me, Mom. Leave me alone. And then Nightcap went down on me and positioned herself so I could do the same to her. I buried my face in her, held her ass with both hands and breathed in deeply. Get out of here, Mom.
I can’t have sex with you, Mom. I can’t be doing this to my own mother don’t you understand? Get away from me I said as Nightcap came and then sucked me until I yelled; I don’t want a blow job from my own mother. What’s wrong with you? After I came she turned around and lay atop me and I felt used and terrible because I’d never been attracted to my mother before and I wasn’t now.
I liked how you yelled about fucking your mother it was a real turn on she said and I thought I was only yelling in my mind and told her I didn’t know what came over me and maybe the weed was mind altering.
She laughed and asked me to give her a rubdown and she took the jar from the dresser and lay face down. Start with my ass she said handing me the open bottle of White Shoulders, the perfume my mother wore to excess. Her only perfume choice. I didn’t want to use it and I don’t want to feel like I was massaging my naked mother. This was a cream but it smelled the same as the perfume of my youth.
She asked if I felt like a naughty boy who needed a spanking or would I feel better if I spanked my mother. I knew then my mother had popped out of that open jar of White Shoulders like a genie and there was nothing I could do, I couldn’t put her back. I had to leave. Dressing quickly, I ran out and away from my mother as fast as I could, but all the way home in my car I could tell that she was there for the ride and would be until I showered her away when I got home and threw my clothes out, but that didn’t stop me from screaming at her the whole ride. It didn’t stop me one bit.
by Paul Beckman