Fucks Her Ass: #5

Her foot remained near my imminent white stuff although not moving, as the waiter brought our starter salads. My hand rubbed gently along the top of my Mom's foot, the tactile sensations of the silk nylon the greatest feeling in the world. As we ate our salads Mom asked, "Ever had a foot job, baby?"

"No," I answered after a brief memory search revealed I never had. Pam, my ex, had once rubbed her stocking feet all over my body in a sensual foot massage of sorts, but her feet had only rubbed my cock briefly before moving on. "Well, then obviously you've never had a stocking-clad foot job," my Mom deduced.

"Obviously," I agreed, "are you offering?"

As her foot tapped on my cock, she shrugged with a devilish smile, "Well, we already have a Trifecta to complete tonight, but maybe we can fit that in too. Seeing your cock squirt its cum all over my stockings would be pretty hot, don't you think?"

"Shit Mom, we won't be able to see anything it squirts if you keep this up much longer," I warned, thinking I might come like I had back when I started my self-explorations when I was younger, just by touch.

She smiled, "Don't you dare waste that precious cum."

The waiter returned with our meals and taking my point Mom thankfully relented, moving her foot away. We ate our dinners and discussed non-sexual things like school, Mom's job, and plans for a summer trip to visit her mother, whom I'd always liked. If anyone was listening there would be no hint of our sexual relationship, the taboo sin we were planning to repeat very soon.

Once dinner was done my beautiful Mother suggested, "I say we skip dessert here and find a place where I can get some directly from the source."

"Cheque," I quipped, knowing my hard cock, which had never shrunk throughout dinner, wasn't going to make it much longer before it begged to whip some cream.

We paid the bill and once we were outside, nighttime just beginning to set in, Mom asked, "Elma and I did the showing together so I had her drop me off here. Where did you park?"

"In the underground parking."

fingers entwined as if we were boyfriend and girlfriend, not mother and son. "Lead the way,

we walked down a lower flight of secluded concrete stairs, Mom suddenly tugged backwards on my hand. I stopped and looked at her. She pushed me against the wall, unzipped my

take such a risk as to blow me in a stairwell, but we'd hear a

a door above us did open! I told Mom, "Someone's coming." She

eyes, trying to set aside my nervousness about being caught, concentrating on the feel of my cock bumping against Mom's throat even as above me I heard steps approaching, and surrendered to my approaching orgasm, to the sensations Mom's lips, tongue and wet warm mouth were giving me. So close! Within seconds I was shooting a load of

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but not illegal mere seconds before a middle-aged couple dressed for the opera or some other fancy shindig appeared around a corner of the stairwell and ascended past us. The woman's expression clearly displayed her distaste for such inappropriate displays of affection, while the man saw with a regretful look, a

gone, Mom dropped back down to the floor and cleaned my cock, hoovering up any last-minute

were in my car when she asked, "Can we stop at the Love Boutique? I'll need some lube if you're going to

later. I planned to stay in the car but Mom asked, "Don't you

imagination spinning in overdrive. I unfastened my seat belt and followed Mom

a few times, but never had the guts to break through my psychological barrier. Yet here

the toy section and I followed. She grabbed some lube and tossed it to me (to carry around where anyone could see what it was), before leading me over to look at toys. I couldn't believe the variety. I was looking at a double-ended dildo size XXL in confused awe not daring

no idea what that means, but

or the eight, for the next time your girlfriend and I play?" Mom

"Well, Miranda likes them

huge ten-inch cock.

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