Chapter 3: Flying High

"Something wrong mum?" I asked when my eyes opened the next morning. She was still lying on her side, and my lips had only seconds before disconnected from her rock-hard nipple. She looked somewhat exhausted.

"Gosh, Danny, you made me cum four times during the night, and I didn't even need my hand. I didn't get a minute of sleep. You've been keeping me all hot and bothered all the time. Where the hell have you learned to caress a woman's breast like that?"

"Nicola really loved it," I admitted and my face fell. "She taught me all about it. Well it helped bugger all, didn't it?"

"She's the one who ran away, isn't she? Doesn't she work in the pharmacy down at Kröpke?"

I nodded. "Do me a favour mum, please don't confront her. I want to leave that part of my life behind me. I'm having enough problems to deal with the fact that my mother is a ridiculously sexy bombshell now and that I'm falling head-over-heels in love with her."

"Oh you're such a charmer," she cooed and planted a hot kiss on me. Seeing that I had mum close to another orgasm – the rock-hard nipples gave that away – I returned the kiss, involving our tongues and I reached down to finger her drenched womanhood. I had barely touched it when she screamed into my mouth. Oh dear, I had really kept her on edge all night.

As much fun as it had been to re-enact my early childhood habit, mum wouldn't live very long if I did that every night, so I probably had to tone it down in the future.

When I came back with the breakfast to serve her in bed, she was sleeping soundly. For the first time I heard my mum snore like a battalion of over-eager lumberjacks, but she also wore an angelic smile. I kissed her cheek and went back downstairs to have breakfast by myself.

This unexpected turn of events had turned my life upside down, so much was obvious. Until a few days ago mum had been, well, mum. But now she was consuming all my thoughts. The feeling of her warm mouth engulfing my hardness, the gentleness with which she caressed my skin when we engaged in what was technically utterly illegal. Goodness me, I simply couldn't get her out of my mind.

There was no denying it, I was a lost cause. There was no turning back from what we'd done. I still felt reluctant to go all the way, but the thought of licking her gloriously tasteful pussy again, or sleeping through the night while sucking on her boobs like a baby made me hard in an instant. I'm pathetic – sue me, I don't give a flying expletive.

One of the perks of our new-found openness was that there was no need to pretend any more. I could go naked whenever I wished to and I made the most out of it and 'the most' in that case meant I wouldn't be adding anything to the laundry basket that day.

Mum came back down to the living room at about 2pm. She gave me a kiss on the lips, then she kissed my fairly floppy cock. Well, by the time she'd poured herself a coffee, it wasn't so floppy any more, because she was stark naked too.

"Good reflexes, buster," she giggled and planted another small kiss on the tip of my now very erect member.

"Mum if you keep teasing him like that he'll vomit straight in your face," I said with a cackle.

"Maybe that's what I want," she said and wiggled her naked arse at me.

"Mum this may sound strange, but with all the remodelling they've done on you, I was actually expecting some scars, but I haven't seen any."

She smiled, sipping her coffee.

"That's why it cost two million, dear. The scars from the boob job are in my arm pits. See here?" She had raised her arm showing me the barely noticeable scars.

"We don't really want to know how they shoved the implants from there into your boobs, do we?"

"Certainly not," mum snorted with no little amount of sarcasm. "But the result is worth it. As for my pouch, the thighs and the arse. They did that in one go. If you lift my bum-cheeks you'll find the scars right in the crease underneath them, you'll never notice them until you bend me over the nearest piece of furniture and shag the raw stuffing out of my arse. Considering how much skin they had to hack off, it's a miracle that my pussy is still where it is supposed to be, wouldn't you say?"

"Goodness, mum," I gasped, doubling over in laughter.

She just giggled. "The scars from the lifting and the nose job are behind my ears, well hidden by my hair. Those Swiss doctors know what they're doing. There's a reason why everybody and his dog is going there to have their carcass renovated. And before you ask, no, I don't want to know how they could work on my nose through a hole behind my ears."

"Second that," I snorted.

"So mum, what are we going to do now? We might have a few million quid in the bank, but I can't slack off forever. I graduated four months ago. We need to have something to do. You have your business, but there's no real space in it for me. I'd love to do a proper job, but with you nearby."

"Frankly, I'm sick of selling flowers," mum snorted. "You always were so fascinated with aircraft. You have a PPL and an instrument rating, why don't you take your commercial pilot exam now that you're eighteen. When you've done that, I'll sell the damn flower shops and the two of us start an airline?"

"Wow, mum, now that's an idea. I'd love to fly, but what would you do?"

"I'd be the naked stewardess, obviously."

"Huh?" I grunted like an idiot.

"Look, there are dozens of charter companies catering for businessmen. But none of them has naked stewardesses. I have come to love being naked, now that I start to feel really good in my body. I like being admired. You have no idea how good I feel seeing you stare at me. Just think, all those guys being away from their wives for a week or longer, they would bash our door in."

I harrumphed. "Mum, if they've been on a dry-spell for a week or longer, they might not stop at just looking at your boobs."

"Well, that depends on what you think I should do," she said with a smile. "You could make me 'serve' them some extras or you could make me resist."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Danny, there's no need to pretend," she said. "I came home a week ago and the first thing I did was showing my new Bristols to my own son. Now I would have done that sooner or later anyway, because I've loved you more than a mother should for a long time, but since I did it right away, I think you've inherited a particular talent from your father. He could make me do whatever he wanted, just by looking me into the eyes."

Ouch, double ouch. I'd been found out. Well, that took care of my erection. I went soft and my face felt like burning up.

"I'm not mad," mum said. "You could have just mentally ordered me to forget about it, but you didn't, so I think you're just as responsible with your gift as your father was."

"I'm sorry mum," I muttered, deeply embarrassed. "I only found out the day you came home from Switzerland. And the only real order I gave you was to be immune to my look. It scares me a bit that I'm able to do that."

Mum smiled and sat down next to me, putting her empty cup on the table.

"I don't want to be immune, you know? Why do you think I descended into such a funk after your father died? He only found out about his ... talent when you were already born and it were the happiest years of my life. He made me do the craziest things, because I wanted him to. You should have seen people's faces when he ordered me to go to the shops in the nude."

I looked at mum, my mouth hanging open in shock. She only smiled at me.

"Danny, use your powers on me any way you like. You would make me as happy as I was when your father was still alive. But please give me the same promise that he gave me. Please don't use it on anyone who doesn't know about it."

"You actually want me to influence you?" I asked and she nodded.

"That's why things didn't work out with my second husband Gerd. He is a sweet man, but he couldn't give me any proper excitement in bed, let alone the thrill of knowing he could make me finger myself in the middle of the market square."