Chapter 11: Recital and Sanctuary

Extracurricular activities were now freely accepted. I had shown Mom the pictures, letting her in on a secret, and I had proved worthy of her trust. I was justly rewarded. I came home most days to a quick blowjob before Dad got home. On the weekends, Mom let me get her outside and allowed me to lead her around the side for a blowjob in front of the trellis, sometimes twice a day.

Perhaps Mom was so generous because real piano practice was now being taken more seriously as the date for the recital was near. We truly practiced music in our sessions. But on one occasion, I followed Mom and waited on the blind side of the wall as she bowed and curtsied to Dad’s applause. As soon as she came into the hallway, I took her into my arms and kissed her. The near proximity to my father must have lit a fuse because she very passionately returned my kiss and my hand was under her skirt by the time we finished.

Mom’s face was very flushed and excited and, for the first time in an evening, we snuck out to the trellis where I ate her pussy. I stood and pulled my cock out, ready to put it in her mouth, but she got up from her knees and slipped around behind me. Her hands curled around my hips, one cupping my balls, the other gripping my cock. Mom jacked me off into the night, maneuvering me into position so my cum would spray all over the flowering vine now beginning to cover the trellis. Apparently, she found this very amusing.

On subsequent evenings, we practiced just as hard on our duets but partook of some extracurricular activity soon after. The next night, for example, Mom talked to Dad without going right into the living room, instead leaning against the entranceway after she completed her bow. I thought she was teasing me by delaying her departure and the beginning of our games, so I slipped my hands under her skirt and started playing with her bottom.

Soon, I had her panties stretched across the bottom of her buttocks and my hand pushed between her cheeks, rubbing along her perineum to the underside of her pussy. I was sure that would prompt her to leave but Mom kept leaning against the wall, talking to Dad, so I worked my hand as far forward as I could, enough to get the tips of my fingers into her slit with my thumb pressed firmly between her cheeks. I was surprised at the length of time she kept interacting with Dad until I realized he probably had his face buried in his book while providing minimal responses to Mom, a bad habit of his when talking to anyone who interrupted him.

In the end, I pulled Mom away. I had to bend down to get my hand under far enough to hook her pussy in a grip that was sufficiently strong to tow her backward, away from the wall and down the hall in to the kitchen. Mom only resisted enough to put up the pretense of a struggle. She didn’t even turn around to accost me in the kitchen but laughed instead as I dragged her across the linoleum floor and out the back door, off the patio and around the corner to our trellis haven.