Chapter 2

It was only four in the afternoon, but the sky was completely dark, and the raindrops were making a racket on the bedroom window. I looked out of the window and hoped it stopped before my wife got off work. Thankfully, it was my day off as it was a Sunday.

“Why are you coming only for two days?” Mom said on the cell phone.

“Because I don’t have any holidays, Mom.”

“Then come next month when you have holidays. You’ll spend so much just for two days.”

“Would you quit worrying about money? I’m coming, and it’s final. I’ll see you next week,” I said in an annoyed tone as I stroked my cock.

“As you wish.”

“Yeah, see you. Bye,” I stated and cut the phone.

I began jerking off thinking of her. She was 40, had red hair, blue eyes, and was 5’9”. Her long legs were her second-best assets. Her biggest assets were her voluptuous breasts.

Unfortunately, apart from a glance at her cleavage once, I’ve never been able to see them in their full glory. I was determined to change that.

However, I knew it wasn’t going to be easy, and not only because I was her son. After my father left her when I was four years old to be with a man who talked and dressed like a woman, her life changed completely. She stopped seeing most of her friends, stopped going out even for simple dinners, and stopped wearing clothes that screamed color or joy in any way.

Apart from some family functions, I don’t think she ever went to any social event. I think initially it was shame and hurt, but then it became a habit, her life. Her friends and family tried their best, but finally gave up. She raised me by herself, and I was everything and the only thing to her. Well, it was time to bring some joy and happiness to her life.

I cleaned myself, opened the laptop, and started working on the class project. In the evening, Natasha, the girl I had married five months ago after going out with her for nearly nine months, arrived from work in that heavy rain. I had already cooked dinner and had told her not to stop anywhere to get takeaway.

After dinner, I continued working on the project, and she picked up her cell phone and began scrolling. At night, I was lying beside her, and both of us were wasting our time on our phones.

“I spoke with Mom today.”

“Did you tell her?” my wife, who was 19 and a year younger than me, looked at me.

“Yes.”

“What did she say?”

“That two days were too short. I should come next month during the holidays.”

“You should have told her you’d come then, too.”

“Let’s see how it goes,” I replied.

“So, you are going to see your mom, huh?” she whispered as she slid her hand in my shorts and began stroking it.

“Will you try to see her big rack?”

I laughed and said, “Dunno.”

“Maybe touch her, kiss her. Hold her behind and kiss her neck. Or ask her to lift that couch again,” she murmured.

I pushed her on her back and sat down on my knees. She tied her brown hair and, placing her hands on my naked ass, took my cock in her mouth and didn’t stop even when I began filling her mouth with my cum. Swallowing every drop, she looked at me and smiled.

“I bet she can’t do this.”

I leaned forward and, kissing her ear, said, “You are the best. Love you.”

“Love you, too,” she stated as she got up to wash her mouth.

Three days later, we were coming back from the university when she suggested, “How about buying a dildo for her? You know you can even control it remotely? Like, you can control it from here and watch it perform its ‘magic’ from here.

“Are you nuts?” I stared at her.

“Okay, how about buying a hot dress for her?”

“She won’t wear it, and I’ll just waste my money.”

“Lingerie? She wears lingerie, doesn’t she?”

“I don’t know her size,” I declared.

“So what will you give her?”

“Nothing. I’ll just go and meet her,” I shrugged my shoulders.

I dropped her off at her work and went to my part-time job. From there, I messaged my mother-in-law and told her that I was going to see Mom on Friday. She immediately called me and began asking me what I would do with her, what I was buying for her, and how long I would stay with her. When I told her I wasn’t giving her anything, that I had no plans at all, that it was only a two-day trip, she sounded disappointed.

Forty minutes later, she messaged this, “Natasha told me she suggested lingerie, but you said you didn’t know her size. Open the drawer where she keeps her intimate things, look for the size written on the bra, pick a new one, not some old faded one, and write the size down somewhere or take a photo.”

She followed up with this message, “And don’t forget to ask her to shower you. Tell her that Natasha says you don’t wash yourself properly, or say some friend said. Make it sound like you are pleading with her, that you really need it.”

“When will you give me a shower, Mommy?” I texted back.

“Whenever you want, my son,” she messaged back with several heart emojis.

Two days later, I was on a flight to see Mom. She greeted me with a hug and began asking about my studies, my wife, and other things, and started telling me about her work.

For dinner, she had cooked honey mustard baked salmon, beef and chickpeas, and wanton soup. Apart from me and work, she loved cooking, and she was great at it. I completely cleaned the plate, which always made her happy.

At night, I saw that she was still awake; she was watching something on her phone. I went and lay down beside her on the bed. She asked me how my trip to my wife’s parents was, did they like me, and how my mother-in-law is. I replied that the trip was good, I think they like me, and my mother-in-law is okay.

The last time I was in bed with her like this, she was lying on her side with her back toward me. This time, she was on her back, which meant I had to improvise. I turned on my side and, moving closer to her, put my hand on her stomach over her robe and my leg over her ankle.

The room was pitch dark apart from the light coming from the phone, which made things more complicated as I didn’t want to put my hand or leg in the wrong place. Sliding closer, I placed my head on her shoulder, pressed my hard-as-a-rock cock into her thigh covered by the robe, and pulled her tightly toward me.

“Don’t you wanna sleep?” she patted my back with her hand.

“I miss you, Mom,” I whispered.

“I miss you, too,” she said as she again patted my back.

I very slowly pushed my dick more into her thigh, but there was no reaction from her. She just lay there and kept talking about me, her, and life.

Ten minutes later, she said, “Go sleep. I’ll make eggs the way you like in the morning.”

I got up and came back to my room angry and sad. I immediately went to the bathroom and took my anger out on my cock. Lying in bed, I spent the next hour angry at myself and her. We spent the whole morning sitting, talking, and doing household chores. My wife and her mother texted me and asked about progress. I told them she went to sleep early as she was tired.

In the afternoon, she was standing in the kitchen chopping vegetables. I went to her and, putting my arms around her over her long shirt, I bent my knees a little as, at 5’11”, I was two inches taller, and pressed my cock against her ass over the shirt and pajamas. I had deliberately not worn underwear.

“What has happened to you? Showing so much love for your mother,” she said as she turned her head a little, looked at me, and smiled.

“Ummm,” I mumbled, pulling her so close that my cock was tightly pressed against her ass, and kissed her shoulder over the shirt.

“I’m thinking of coming again during the holidays next month.”

“Really? You aren’t joking, are you?” she turned her face and looked at me.

“No, I’m not,” I stated.

She bent her head back, smiled, and kissed me on the cheek.

“I’d love that. We can go fishing. We haven’t gone fishing in ages. Will your wife also come?”

“Maybe.”

“You should bring her. She has never been here.”

“I’ll,” I assured her as I tightened my grip around her stomach.

Around a minute later, she said, “Come on, lemme go or the lunch will be late.”

“The lunch can wait,” I again kissed her shoulder.

“No, it cannot. You’ll be hungry and start scowling. I know you. I’m your mother. Now lemme go.”

I once again accepted defeat and let her go. I dragged myself to the bathroom and jerked off. Then I went back to the kitchen and began helping her with lunch.

During lunch, I said, “We’ll have dinner tonight at Jean Bocuse.”

“Why? It’s very expensive. We can go somewhere else.”

“Mom, I have money. From there we’ll go to that jazz club on the corner.”

“Jazz club? If you are taking something, you know you can tell me.”

“You like jazz, so we’ll go there. Jazz is good. I like it, too.”

“And please wear that dress,” I remarked, but didn’t look into her eyes.

“Which dress?’

“The light green sleeveless dress.”

“That one? You still remember it? Why do you want me to wear that?”

“Because it’s good,” I stated, looking at her.

“I don’t know if it will even fit, but I’ll try it. So my son now loves jazz and wants to wine and dine me. I’ll once again say, if you’re doing some drugs or something, you can tell me. I’ll be heartbroken, but I’ll help you.”

I stayed silent.

Once the lunch was done and we had washed the dishes and cleaned the kitchen, she went to her room to try on the dress. Around 20 minutes she came to my room wearing it.

“It has become a little bit tight, but it looks fine. What do you say?”

She was probably right because it was pushing her cleavage more out than I remembered. The dress, however, was amazing.

“You look beautiful, Mom. It’s perfect.”

“How’s the back?” she turned around.

“It’s fine.”

“I’m surprised it fits. It’s a bit tight at the top, but it will do,” she bowed her head, looked at the dress, and said as she went back to her room without turning toward me.

As soon as she went to her room, I sprinted to mine and put on underwear, the briefs that my mother-in-law had bought for me. She returned in that long shirt and pajamas and sat down on the couch with her phone. I went and lay down on the couch with my head on her lap just below her voluptuous boobs.

“Mom, could you please shower me like you used to? I wash myself, but I don’t know why I’m unable to do it properly. There’s always dirt behind my ears, neck, and stomach. Please, Mom.”

“Don’t be crazy. You’re a big boy now. You don’t know how to use soap?”

“I know, but can’t clean myself the way you did. You remember how clean my shirt collars used to be? Now they are black after only two wears.”

“No, I cannot,” she simply stated, staring at me.

“You cannot even do this for me?” I protested, turning my body on my side with my back toward her.

I waited for her to say something, but when she didn’t, I continued, “All I’m asking you to do is shower me, that’s all. I’m not asking you to run a marathon for me, or ... I don’t know, kill someone.”

“No, I cannot. Learn to do it yourself.”

I turned my body once again and, looking into her blue eyes, requested, “Please, Mom. I still remember how you used to shower me. I used to love it.”

I wrapped my arms around her and buried my face in her stomach.

After staying silent for around three minutes, she said, “Okay, but only once. Don’t make it a habit.”

“Thank you, Mom, thank you,” I exclaimed, wrapping my arms around her tightly and kissing her stomach over her shirt again and again.

I jumped from the couch and stood up.

“Let me change. You are 20 years old, and you need your mother to shower you. Do you want me to feed you also?” she mumbled as she began walking to her room.

To make the shower authentic and longer, I hadn’t taken a shower for more than a month and did everything I could to get dirtier, including pouring dirt all over my body except my face and head, and drawing crisscross lines with crayons over my legs and back.

When she came out, she was wearing a bathrobe with the rope-like string tightly knotted to stop the robe from opening. In the bathroom, she opened the shower and watched as I took off my shirt, pajamas, and underwear. I was aware that she was looking at me and also knew that my cock was fully erect, but I didn’t make an eye-contact with her and acted as if everything was normal. Two days ago, I had shaved all my hair as I wanted it to look even bigger.

I got under the shower and stood there and waited for my hair and body become wet. I was looking everywhere except her eyes. Even when my gaze went toward her, I kept it below her eyes. My heart was racing faster than the world’s best sprinter.

“That’s enough. Stop the shower,” she ordered.

She picked the shampoo bottle, squeezed the shampoo into her hands, and asked me to bend my head. She came closer and started shampooing my hair. As she massaged my hair, I placed my hands on her hips and held her. The thought of me standing there completely naked with my rock-hard cock throbbing and watching her boobs so up close was driving my dick crazy.

She washed her hands under the shower and, picking up the soap, started lathering it on my neck and behind the ears. She began to vigorously rub my neck. My hands were still on her hips.

“Turn around,” she murmured.

“Why do you have colors on your back? Are you a toddler?” she wondered as she rubbed the soap behind the neck and on my back.

I stayed silent.

After rubbing my neck and back strenuously, she brought her hands to my ass. I lifted my right leg and placed it far away, spreading my legs in the process. I thought about stretching my hole with my hands, but didn’t.

“Move forward a bit,” she said.

She knelt down behind me and began lathering my ass, and ran her hand three times between my cheeks. Then she started rubbing behind my knees.

“You have colors on your legs, too! What’s wrong with you? Turn around.”

When I did, my hard-as-a-rock cock was inches away from her face, but she kept her eyes fixed on my thighs. She vigorously cleaned my right leg and then the left one. As she did that, my cock kept hitting the top of her head.

Without lifting her eyes or her head, she began lathering the perineum area and ran her hand on my balls in one swift motion without cupping them. Now it was the turn of the pubic area, so she was forced to lift her head. She raised her head, saw my fully erect cock, but continued cleaning my shaved pubic area without missing a beat, and then ran her foam-filled hand on my cock, but didn’t go back to it again.