Chapter 2

My aunt arrived around noon the next day to assist us in the garden. Mom excused herself for an errand, leaving Rachel and me to finish work. It provided the perfect opportunity to leer at my aunt without the threat of Mom catching me. Mom returned in time for dinner. We ate, and Rachel left for home. Mom and I retired to our rooms early after a long day of work.

During breakfast, Mom wore a short, pink nightie. The entire lengths of her luscious thighs lay bare. When she shifted, a flash of dark red panties peeked out. After we ate and cleaned up, Mom stopped next to me on her way to her bedroom. She turned to display a perfect view of the backs of her legs. She quietly asked, “Sam, would you do me a favor? Please look to see if I have any cellulite on my legs. It happens to many women, and I want to know if there are any early signs.”

Before this, I had been stealing looks at her luscious legs. I couldn’t believe my luck that she had given permission for me to gawk at her shapely bare legs. Taking my time, I surveyed up and down her smooth, toned legs. Her nightie barely covered her panties, allowing me to see all of her creamy thighs. Rapidly breathing, I stuttered, “No sign of anything, Mom. Your legs are very smooth, fantastic looking, and incredibly sexy.”

“Thank you, Sam. Although, I’m not sure you should be complimenting your mother’s legs in that manner,” she said with a smirk. “I’m just worried cellulite will ruin their appearance. I am getting near that awful age,” she added, referring to her closing in on forty.

“Mom, there’s nothing wrong with your legs, and even if there were, you’re still a beautiful and sexy woman,” I complimented her and blushed, surprised at my bold remark.

She turned to face me and smiled, seeing my flushed state. “Thanks, Sam. Let’s get dressed and do some yard work.”

We met in the garden and worked for a few hours. At three in the afternoon, I asked,” Mom. Is Aunt Rachel coming over to help?”

She hesitated as if spinning a story. Finally, she explained, “No, not today. I had to lie and tell her we were busy tonight, but in fact, I scheduled an appointment with a new client. I met her yesterday and scheduled her for today at four. I hope it’s okay with you.”

Taken aback by her announcement, I hesitated, but not long enough for Mom to continue. I replied, “Sure, Mom. It’s fine. I have to clean up first. I’ll head in and wait for you in my room.”

After my shower, it didn’t take long before a car pulled up and parked. I heard the front door close and muffled talking while they walked down the hall to Mom’s room. Soon after, a soft knock rapped on my door. I let Mom in and immediately smiled, seeing her dressed in her short, pink nightie.

While hugging me tightly, she informed me, “Our client is ready.”

I pressed my face against her neck, breathing in her natural scent, which I’d come to love.

She held my hands with hers and guided them to the backs of her thighs above her knees. Leaning close to my ear, she whispered, “Sam, could you feel my legs to see if you can detect any cellulite? You said you couldn’t see any, but maybe you can make sure.”

It was an incredible moment. It was one thing to admire my mother’s legs, and quite another to caress them. My hands slowly ran up the backs of her smooth, firm flesh, relishing the feel. My cock hardened fully and uncomfortably lodged between us. When my fingers brushed against her panties, I moved back down. I explored her legs again, stopping to squeeze her succulent flesh when I neared her ass. Her hot breath washed over my neck when I groped her thighs. Moving up, I started to cup her ass when she grabbed my hands and pulled me away.

She smiled and said, “Careful honey, that’s not my legs. Did you find anything unusual?”

I replied, “No, Mom. They’re terrific. No sign of any cellulite. In fact, they’re the best legs I’ve ever felt.”

“Oh, stop it,” she giggled.

She stepped back, signaling it was time for my services. When she turned to leave, I lustfully leered at the beautiful legs I had caressed minutes earlier. After a few moments, I proceeded down the stairs to impregnate the next client.

As soon as I entered Mom’s room, I dropped my robe. Approaching the covered woman, I slowly moved the sheet up. I left her pussy covered while I stroked her legs, hoping to relax her in this uncomfortable setting. Her skin was smooth like Mom’s, and she looked like she might be five years older.

I stroked her legs, and when I ran my hands up to the back of her thighs, I felt the dimples. It was cellulite, and I thought of when Mom asked me to look and feel her legs for the signs. It became clear that Mom was determined to help me through each client. I told her she had helped me on the first one, so she had taken it upon herself to assist me. She had interviewed the woman the previous day and undoubtedly noticed the cellulite.

I didn’t dwell on her dimpled skin, not wanting to cause concern for the poor woman. She was probably already self-conscious, and I didn’t want to add to her apprehension. After a few minutes of caressing and praising her legs, I felt her relax. I seized the moment and shoved the sheet above her waist, exposing her pussy.

No sign of hair to distract from her puffy, clean-shaven pussy. It was her best trait, and I think she knew it. I ran my fingers up and down her fat lips while complimenting her on her slick, smooth pussy. She spread her legs, relaxing while I played with her treasure. I inserted a couple of fingers into her hot hole and smiled, discovering it to be steamy and wet. She massaged my fingers expertly with her tight sheath.

I pulled my fingers out, even as she attempted to hold them with her muscled pussy. I stroked her thighs again, thinking of the vision of Mom’s displayed bare legs. That was enough to get me fully hard. Crawling up closer, I scraped my prick along her thighs, making my way to my target. She spread her legs widely, giving me complete access to her hungry, oily cavern.

Pushing my engorged head through her outer lips, her pussy clamped down hard, pulling my shaft in without my help. Her sucking snatch devoured my prick, pulling me to the bottom. I fucked her steady for several minutes, reveling in her experience of cock handling. Her pussy walls contracted at different times of my strokes, enabling her to rub my hard prick against her sensitive spots. Her hips moved in sync with her pussy as she took over the direction of the fucking.

I held onto her waist, squeezing her firm skin, holding on tight while she thrashed beneath me. Her skin reminded me of Mom’s, and my mind flashed to the times I had stroked Mom’s arms. My prick was hard as steel, getting a workout it had rarely experienced. Sensing I was nearing my climax, I shoved it in deep and held it there, allowing it to soak in an attempt to prolong my orgasm. Her pussy massaged my prick, and it felt like her hand was stroking me.

I paused my pumping, enjoying the moment. Images of my Mom’s legs flashed before me. My fingers roamed across the waist of the woman fucking me while I relived the moment I caressed Mom’s legs. Harder contractions on my prick brought me back from my fantasy. To my surprise, sperm gushed forth from my stem.

It was a first for me, cumming without stroking. I pulled back and shoved in hard, shooting the last of my load deep into the client’s spasming cunt. Her pulsating walls milked out every drop of virile sperm from my balls. After I had spilled my entire load and remained embedded deeply in her pussy, she continued to massage my prick.

I softened, pulled out, and halted, to admire her beautiful gash one final time before covering her with the sheet. Leaving the room exhausted, I headed upstairs. I plopped down on my bed after taking a shower. I rested and nearly fell asleep when I heard her car leave.

The smell of cooking summoned me downstairs, where I found Mom preparing dinner. We ate, and afterward, when we settled on the couch, she brought up the subject of my performance. “Sam, our latest client praised you as much as our first one. Excellent job!”

I was surprised as I felt I didn’t do much to excite her. Maybe that was what turned the woman on, controlling the coupling.

With a concerned look, she asked, “Sam, did you have any problems this time?”

“No problems, Mom. Thanks to you, the cellulite didn’t bother me,” I assured her.

She blushed, smiled, and professed, “Glad to be of assistance, honey. I wanted to make it easier for you.”

Switching topics, we talked while watching TV for an hour when Mom turned and locked eyes with me.

“Sam, I hope you don’t mind, but I made another appointment tomorrow morning at ten.”

Trying to contain my excitement, I replied, “No problem, then we can do some things in the afternoon and go out for dinner. I guess you and Sharon must have interviewed more than one client yesterday.”

“At least two,” she confirmed, leaving for her bedroom. I wondered how many more she had lined up for me.

Neither of us said much at breakfast. Mom wore a white nightie I’d never seen before. The material was opaque, but I discerned the outline of a bra. It was longer than her other selections, falling well below her knees. It dawned on me that Mom had worn different negligees for each client. Did color have anything to do with it? Suddenly it hit me; it was the style, not color. The green one exposed her arms so I could stroke her smooth skin. The pink one was short, allowing me to feel her thighs. “What did the white one signify?” I asked myself. I wouldn’t know the reason until she retrieved me for our guest. It was after nine when I excused myself to wait in my room.

I was lost in thought and didn’t hear a car or any sounds from downstairs until a soft knocking brought me out of my daydreaming. Mom entered, hugged me tightly, and nestled her mouth onto my neck. Mom’s scented hair and the pressure of her body against mine convinced my prick to rise to the occasion. She pulled back, leaving us face-to-face, and whispered, “Good luck, Sam.”