Chapter 17

It was the first time Abby had ridden in an underground conveyance. Both Arthur and Colette snickered inconspicuously at her sense of amazement. Arthur remembered how he continued looking out the car window his first time even though it was dark, and they were only a few feet from the tunnel wall. Colette had been riding underground since childhood and couldn’t ever remember feeling anything but natural about it. What interested her though were the stolen glances Abby would give Arthur which he would give her back while the other wasn’t looking ... then their startlingly embarrassed looking away when their eyes did meet. She was fully aware of the intimate vibes between them that communicated more than filial affection. When they got back to the flat, she intended to absent herself and let the chips fall where they may.

When they arrived Colette gave Abby some time to do the customary “what a wonderful apartment you have Colette, you have such good taste,” and, “how much I like your colors.”

Finally cutting in she said, “I’m wiped-out Abby, this was a much quicker turnaround for me than I am accustomed to. But I wanted so badly to meet you in my working environment as well as find enough time to do some bonding on the airplane before we got here. I know you are quite tired as well ... some of our talking cut into your normal sleeping time on the plane. I have to maintain my routine: go to bed now, get up at 11:30, and fix us some lunch.” To Arthur, “Will you show your mom to the bedroom?”

Talking to both, “I put the towels out. Arthur knows the layout of the flat if you feel the need to get around. If you’re anything like me, you’ll want to have a shower. Besides, the two of you need a little time to talk and decompress ... get comfortable with each other in a new environment.” Grabbing her Travelpro she pulled it toward her bedroom. At the door, she turned and said, “Tata, have a pleasant nap,” and closed the door.

Abby turned to Arthur and asked, “Did she just dismiss us?”

“The Brits are no-nonsense people Mom, very efficient and exactly to the point. Because of her unusual schedule, Colette never changes her routine. You will be experiencing jetlag and will have to deal with it. Colette is in shape for jetlag, for her, it doesn’t exist.”

His mom was taken aback at Colette’s abrupt departure, but Arthur realized Colette was even more abrupt because her instinct told her something meaningful had gone on at the airport and in the Underground between him and his mother. She knew he was on edge about it. By cutting the welcome short she was allowing more time for what was brewing between mother and son to percolate in her absence. He had developed the capacity to read Colette well which strengthened his resolve.

“She’s right,” Abby said, “I’ll feel better after a shower.”

Arthur showed his mom to the bathroom connected to the guest bedroom. Then went to the kitchen where he put the coffee on and cracked his Earth Science book. Though his eyes read the words they were no competition against the turmoil running rampant in his mind. It seemed clear to him that once he had mentioned the panties at the coffee shop at the airport—he had to—he was still boiling with the actions he took on the ones he left under her pillow. Eager to get that subject out in the open he thought Am I reading her correctly that she might want me to go to bed with her?

When Arthur closed the bedroom door behind him Abby opened her suitcase, picked up the plastic sandwich bag that was under the flap of the unsecured velour package, and walked to the bathroom. Taking all of her clothes off she first rinsed her panties in the sink basin, wrung them out, wrapped them in a wet towel then took them out of the towel and hung them over a space on the towel rack. She spread her feet about a foot apart, squatted slightly, and felt inside her vagina then pinched the encased fabric that she had put inside her before leaving for the airport, pulling out “Sunday,” the last of the seven panties. I’m such a terrible woman she thought. But I’ve come this far and there is no way I won’t go through with it. Laying the warm, damp object on the countertop she smoothed out the white “Sunday” panties with the pink blaze, which were folded into a 4 X 6-inch rectangle and slid them into the sandwich bag. Taking a deep breath she patted the transparent package and said, “There. What will be will be.”

After showering she donned the special pink robe she bought for the trip. Adding the latest addition to the small stack of six pre-scented panties she wrapped them in the velour bag which she secured with the silk ribbon she had pre-cut. Knowing she was going to be returning to the bed with or without Arthur she pulled back the spread and folded a diagonal of the cover and sheet for easy entry. Hen her eye caught something white peeking out from beneath one of the pillows she tilted it back and was stunned to see a pair of panties similar to the ones she had secreted at the bottom of her son’s backpack when he had left home. When she picked them up, she realized they were still quite damp. “Oh my GOD, he must have done this before he left for the airport!” Holding the panties to her nose she recognized the scent of semen. “My God forgive me.” There was no point in putting on makeup, it would take too much time. Besides, I’m in such a dither I would make a complete mess of it. Steeling herself she picked up the package and opened the door.

It was about thirty minutes after she went in to take a shower when the bedroom door opened, and his mother came out. She was wearing a thin, lightweight pink robe; her hair had been blown dry and she wore no make-up. As she walked toward him at the table, he could see she wore nothing beneath her robe. She looked refreshed; rested and pleasingly angelic. I’m glad she isn’t wearing make-up. “The shower seems to have agreed with you Mom,” he said, noticing the prominence of her nipples pushing against the pink, delicate fabric immediately making his penis begin to swell.

He hadn’t noticed her carrying what looked like a small package wrapped in a soft lavender velour bag. Taking a deep breath she extended the package toward me and said, “For the past week Arthur I have been preparing this special gift for you.”

She expelled air, sucked in, and noticeably stiffened her pose. “When you see what it is.” She hesitated. “You might imagine how I’ve been doing it. I’ll gladly explain it to you if you don’t disown your mother upon opening it.” Letting him take the package out of her hands she wondered how can I have become such a shameless woman with quaking knees and a stomach full of butterflies she was more hopeful of something positive happening since discovering the semen-covered panties under her pillow.

With unsteady fingers, Arthur untied the silk ribbon of the package, unwrapped it, and puzzled over the contents: seven small plastic bags showing seven colors: black, peach, red, sky blue, pink, yellow, and white inside. Each was emblazoned with a separate day of the week. As he looked questioningly into his mother’s eyes she softly said, “Panties dear, like the ones you left under the pillow.”

Raising his eyebrows he gave an understanding chuckle as he nervously selected the white panties with “Sunday” embroidered in pink. “COOL Mom, you’re really COOL.” Opening the plastic bag he pulled them out and spread them open. Looking at his mom he raised his eyebrows as if to say, “Are they?”

She smiled and nodded as if to say, “Check them out.”

Bringing the white fabric to his nose he took a silent but long sniff and closed his eyes. It was obvious he had chosen the ones most recently scented. “Did you just...?”

“More than you might have imaged my darling boy,” she said with a nervous but husky chuckle. “I’ve been carrying them inside me since before I left Boston. That’s how I scented all of the panties I have given you that way since the beginning.” While her cheeks were red with excitement, she was no longer embarrassed. It was out in the open now. Her smile was as if she was proud of herself, and her emotions were being proved with tears that welled in her eyes.

Having figured out long ago that she had been stuffing the panties in her pussy he was overwhelmed by her confirmation of it. He had to ask the question aloud to validate it in her presence. “You stuff them inside your...?”

The fantasies they had dreamed separately over the years had been advanced by those scented panties. Individually they had masturbated many times in them before passing them back. In Colette’s flat at the moment both mother and son knew it was going to happen but neither knew who would make the first move. As far as Abby was concerned it was not a time to interject a clinical word like “vagina” into her son’s unfinished question. So she drooped it and said, “Pussy Arthur.” She searched his eyes. “Your mother has been stuffing her panties inside her pussy so her little boy could smell them.” Tittering in nervous expectation she demurely hid her mouth with her fingertips, braced herself, and said, “So what do you think we should do about it?”

So many of Arthur’s sexual questions regarding his mother’s interest in coupling with him had now been clarified. She made clear that she was opening herself and inviting him to explore her body now waiting for him to be a man. He knew he had to stand and kiss her, not like a son but a lover.

Getting up from his chair he took her hands. Touched to see the longing in her eyes which were moistened with tears he felt nervous quivers within his core being intensified by their libidinous vibes. Letting go of her hands he pulled her close. With open-mouthed lips their hungry kisses devoured one another; tongues darting, searching, breathing out of uncontrol.

The total of everything he had experienced sexually since coming to London: from Colette’s hand job on the plane to the glorious sex after they had landed on his way to college: his experience with Sioban, then the twins, were all meant to prepare him for this moment. This woman in his arms was no longer just his mother. She was a most vulnerable female who craved his direction. Breaking the kiss he riveted her eyes and said, “I want you to suck my cock, Mom.”

The expression on Abby’s face showed not only complete understanding but also showed excitement about a new departure. She had done it before marriage, had done it with her husband countless times though never with such anticipation. Dropping her hand to Arthur’s pants she searched for his zipper, found the metal tab, and worked it down. Reaching inside her hand found its way through the vent in his shorts and her fingers wrapped around the forbidden bulk of her son’s substantial girth. “OH YES DARLING,” she said, emphatically, stroking it once then struggling to work his bulk through the vent of his BVDs and out of his fly. “Yes, yes, YES baby.” She had done it before but never with such a sense of mysterious excitement.

With no hesitation, she dropped to her knees while ogling the monster’s presence in her hand. Looking appreciatively into the eyes of her bairn prodigy she said,” Baby, BABY, OH MY BABY” and kissed the head of her boy’s cock, thrilling to the salty taste of his oozing precum. The panties under her pillow, still wet with this morning’s ejaculation flashed through her mind plus three years of accumulated knickers that she had picked through the laundry, sometimes finding dried, crusty seed, hours old nasty splooge, and sometimes freshly spurted seed.

With a new sense of authority, Arthur said, “Put it in your mouth Mom, Suck it.”

Overjoyed at her son’s commanding presence she opened her mouth. Closing her eyes in anticipation of the whatness she was about to encounter Abby felt the warm, pulsing weight of the largest penis having ever filled her mouth. Stiffening the platform of her tongue she constricted her lips and allowed her saliva to gush and flood the maleness within.

“Oh God Mom,” he gasped.

Delighted at pleasuring her boy in his early manhood she delicately fondled the walnut-sized jewels that hung low in his sac, warming at the memory of having washed his tiny sex when Arthur was a baby. His huge glans was now a mere millimeter from the back of her throat, yet she could still hold the rest of him in her complete grasp. God, she thought who was it that said, ‘size doesn’t matter,” Beginning her determined bobbing and stroking.

Barely able to keep his knees from collapsing Arthur cried, “Yes Mom, YES. Suck me. SUCK me.”

In wanton bliss, Abby was thrilled at giving her son such pleasure. She felt the tender hands of her adoring son lacing his fingers in her hair and lovingly guiding her as she complied, “Mmm-hmmm, mm hmmm.” Releasing her grasp on his cock and letting go of his balls she untied the ribbon at the top of her robe, let it fall open, and shucked the garment from her shoulders and down her back. I need to be naked with my boy.

Arthur looked down at the remarkable scene: his mother on her knees, her light ash blond head connected to him by his extensive member, her elegant neck and lightly freckled back bared so appealingly. When he said, “You’re very good at this mom,” her eyes flicked up at him inquiringly as she thought compared to who, Colette, Sioban?

Though she had often gotten her man off through fellatio she never considered herself that good at it. But since she figured her son had somehow experienced several mouths on his cock—at least one astute, mature one if the tales she had heard about airline stewardesses were factual. Regardless, her son’s compliment made her feel like she was doing it well. I’m fondling his balls.