Chapter 2

Once my eyes had feasted on Mom’s big luscious breasts, it was my mouth’s turn. I took one of her fat tender morsels into my mouth, sucking and nursing on it like I did as a baby.

Mom moaned as she felt my tongue rolling over and circling her nipple and I could feel it harden and grow in my mouth. I pulled my mouth off it for a moment blowing cool air softly across it and it stiffened even more. I fingered the hard nub and Mom groaned louder. I gently pinched and tugged on it lifting her breasts slightly.

“Ohh. Jimmy honey...” she moaned closing her eyes and laying her head back. Then I moved to her other nipple to give it some attention as well. Mom ran her fingers through the hair on the back of my head as I feasted on her delicious breasts She pulled my face to her harder, wanting me to take more of her into my mouth, groaning and cooing as I licked and chewed on her baby feeders.

After a few wonderful minutes at my mother’s breasts, I left them – much to her dismay. She groaned a bit, feeling the loss of my mouth suckling on her. But then realized I was headed south and her groan became a moan of anticipation. I kissed my way over her tummy again, but this time, I continued moving lower, leaving a trail of hot kisses down to the waistband of her red lace panties.

I stopped there and sat back on my heels, looking up at her. Mom was watching me I could see she was completely enjoying my attention. “Spread your legs apart,” I said. She bit her bottom lip (which with her red lipstick looked so hot!) and moved her feet apart shoulder width. I trailed my fingertips very lightly up the insides of her thighs and felt her legs tremble at my touch.

As I approached her panties she began to sway slightly, and I could smell a new “perfume” the musky smell of her lust. My hand touched her panties and moved between her legs in a gentle sawing motion, rubbing up against her pussy lips as she rode my hand.

“Jiiimmmyyy...” she moaned as her hips began to move back and forth against the thrusts of my hand. She ground against my hand letting me know she wanted more despite her previous objections. Then I held my hand still against her pussy and used my thumb to rub over her clit, varying my technique and causing her to moan again as new and different sensations bombarded her.

As I worked her pussy with my hand, I began to feel the wetness seep through her lacy panties. I pulled my hand back and saw the dark red patch getting slowly bigger. “Are you enjoying this my naughty slut? You are sure getting wet!” I said, playing with her.

“Ohhh God Jimmy!” she moaned. “Oh yes, honey! Yes, I am!”

I put my face closer to her wet spot and inhaled deeply. “Damn Mom, your pussy smells wonderful! But do you taste as good as you smell?” I asked her.

“Ohhhhh...” she moaned long and loud, as a shudder ran through her body.

I had found my mother’s ‘kryptonite’ ... she loved to be talked dirty to!

“Mom! Why you dirty little slut!” I said, “You like the dirty talk don’t you!”

“Oh God son, yes! Yes, I do!” she cried, “It’s such a turn on for me ... I love to be talked dirty to and called names ... names like slut and whore. I like it when my vagina is called a pussy or cunt and tits instead of breasts or boobs. The dirtier and nastier the talk is, the better I like it.

Your Mom is a bit of a tramp, son. I know I dress nice and I act all classy and ladylike, but that’s what it is – an act. Only your father knew the real me ... the me I am behind the bedroom doors. The me I am when I let down the act.”

I listened to Mom as she talked. This was a side of her I never knew!

“Jimmy, before this goes any further, we need to talk and you need to know a few things about your dear old mother...” she began to explain her scandalous, immoral past.

“Son, I’m afraid your mother isn’t the woman you know. I’m not the pure, unspoiled, classy lady that you know me as. Truth is, I’m just the opposite. You see, when your father and I first met, it was at a strip club and your’s truly was the headliner that night. That’s right son ... Mama was a stripper! Not only that, but I was a whore as well. I would take club patrons who wanted a little something extra into the back rooms – the private rooms – and give them a lot more than just a table dance!

“I danced at a club back in Pittsburg in those days. I was young and struggling on my own to make ends meet. My own parent’s divorce had caused me to drop out of school, so I had no diploma and couldn’t find any kind of decent job. I was a lot thinner and had a better body back then.

I met your father one night when he came into the club. He sat at a table by himself and was looking a little down. I was on stage and I held the corners of my mouth up telling him to smile and he did.

After I was done with my set, I came over to see if he wanted some company since he was sitting all alone. He asked me to sit down and we talked and talked. When he left the club that night, I made him promise to come to see me again. Well, he did and he did many times after that.

“On his third or fourth time to the club, I was able to convince him to come to one of the private rooms with me. He was very sweet and sort of shy. But once he warmed to the idea ... well he wasn’t the only one who had a good time, let’s just say that!

Anyway, we started seeing each other at the club and then he asked me out on an actual date. He was a real gentleman on that first date too – he didn’t expect me to sleep with him, even though he knew I was a stripper and we’d already had ‘business sex’.

“After that, things just progressed and the next thing we knew, we were involved with each other romantically. One day, your father got a chance for a promotion but it came with a job transfer. He and I talked about it and he asked me if I would come with him.

Well, I’d had enough of dancing and whoring around so I left that life behind and went with him and we moved here to Austin. I changed my ways because I didn’t want your father to be known as ‘the guy with the stripper wife’ ... I wanted him to be proud of me – I wanted to be proud of who I was as well.

“So you see, son, your mother has a past. A past I have tried to keep hidden and get away from. But I guess you can’t get away from your past. I am still a slut at heart and even though I dress like a lady, my slutty side is always right there, just under the covers, waiting to come out and play. That’s why I love dirty talk, I love being degraded and humiliated and made to feel like a street whore ... because that’s what I am, Jimmy. I’m just a street whore in fancy clothes!”

I sat there and listened to Mom’s story carefully. I couldn’t believe the things she was telling me! But as I thought about it, some things began to make more sense.

Mom never really talked much about her past, just giving me the quickest and cleanest explanations she could. And some of the things said in the fights between Mom and Dad became clearer too. Which made me ask her point blank, “Mom, tell me the truth now – it won’t make any difference, either way, I just want to know. Did you ever cheat on Dad with anyone? He seemed to think that you did. But did you?”

“You heard those fights, Jimmy? I thought you were asleep when you Dad and I talked about that!” Mom said.

“Well, it was a little hard for a boy to sleep when his world is coming apart!” I said. “But that’s the past. Now, answer my question – did you ever cheat on Dad?” I repeated.

“Son, I never cheated on your father ever. Once we had decided to start seeing each other romantically, I was his girl and his alone. I swear to you here and now that I was 100% faithful to him.

“I know he believed that I had cheated on him, but that was because he was looking for a way to end the marriage himself. And blaming your whore of a wife for cheating on you just because of her sordid past is an easy out,” she said.

“That’s good enough for me, Mom. And thank you for telling me all this about your past. I know it was hard for you – you have tried very hard to keep it from me until now. I guess it was because you didn’t want me to think less of you,” I said.

“Yes, it was hard for me to talk about this to you. Jimmy do you think less of me now that you know your mother was a ... a whore?” she asked. I had moved up to sit on the bed next to her as she told me about her past. Now she looked at me waiting for an answer. I saw her eyes fill with tears just waiting to fall at my response. She was so beautiful and I loved her so much...

“Mom,” I said taking her hand, “of course I don’t think any less of you. I love you just as much now as I ever have. What you did in the past, you did because you had to – you had to eat and you had to survive. I can’t fault anyone for that.

And what you did for Dad, hiding your past and putting on the good little housewife face, that was very admirable too. You did a wonderful job both as a wife and as a mother. I couldn’t possibly think anything less of you. I love you with all my heart now just as I always have,” I said.

“Oh, Jimmy,” she cried as she buried her face in my shoulder. I rubbed her back as I let her cry. She needed to let it out, to let go of the fear and self-doubt she had held back all these years. So I let her have a good cry and just held her tight until she felt better.

A few minutes later, her sobbing slowed down and she picked her head up off my shoulder. I used a tissue I had picked up off the nightstand and dried her eyes. “Feeling better?” I asked her.

“Yes. You are a good son, Jimmy. How did I manage to raise such a wonderful son?” she asked.

“Well, I had a wonderful mother to teach me,” I said. She gave me a weak smile.

“But I want you to do something for me, Mom,” I said.

“What’s that Jimmy?”

“I want you to promise me that whenever you feel that inner slut coming to the surface, you will let me know okay? That way I can help you take care of it. We can’t have that naughty dirty girl running around getting into mischief you know!” I said.

“You gonna help me keep Tiffany out of trouble then?” she asked.

“Tiffany?” I asked.

“Yeah that was my stage name back in Pittsburg,” Mom said.

“Well, Tiffany, I may not keep you out of trouble, but I want to be the one you get in trouble with!” I said, with a mischievous grin.

“Mmmm ... that sounds like fun!” she said, giggling.

With her fears relieved and “permission” to let Tiffany come out to play whenever she needed to act out, Mom felt a lot less self-conscious and was able to relax now. She didn’t have to keep up her mother of the year act when we were alone. We made a deal that when she and I were alone at home and just relaxing, she could be whoever she felt like at the time.