Chapter 9

As soon as the curtains fell closed behind me, I lunged at my mother, grabbing first at her hips then sliding my hands down and around to squeeze at the delectable curves of her buttocks. I stroked at her, kneaded at that soft, pliant flesh as she walked backwards into the women's restroom. Our mouths met again and again, tongues twirling against each other as I guided her to the end stall. Breaking away from with a disappointed moan and one last squeeze of her womanly rump, I turned away, locking the door behind me.

She stood there, flushed and panting beneath her make-up. She held one finger to her full, luscious lips, indicating for me to be quiet. I didn't want to; I wanted more than anything to shout my love for her from the mountaintops, to scream in unison with her as I bought her climax after climax after climax. Still, it was a public place and it would not do to be caught swiving my own mother in a toilet stall at a restaurant.

I went back to her, my hands roaming over her curves. The dress was some matt material, feeling almost velvety beneath my hands as her soft, supple breasts and buttocks gave way beneath me. Nuzzling at her neck, I whispered my need for her into her ear, punctuating it by sliding one hand up beneath the hem of her dress, reaching between her thighs. But with the sanitary pad covering her sex, I could do little to manipulate her, could not find her wet, silky lips, and withdrew my hand, running it up her back.

She shivered, then pushed me back slightly. "God, baby," she confessed. "I need you so badly. I need you inside me, I need you to fuck me."

I smiled gently, kissed her rosy cheek, and murmured "I need you too, mom. You look amazing tonight. This little black dress of yours is working exactly as you'd hoped it would. But," I continued, "how is this going to work? How do you want me to ... to ... make love to you in here? It's a little cramped, is all."

She groaned, pulling away from me, shimmying the tight dress up her thighs and over her hips, revealing her black satin panties. She wore them over the garter belt's straps, and so I knelt before her on the tiled floor, sliding them down her long, pale legs. The sanitary pad, glued to her by her juices, remained in place, and I wadded up some toilet paper, making a bed for it on the toilet behind her.

Then I leaned in, swiping at her engorged clitoris with my tongue. "No time, no time!" she hissed, reaching down and lifting me back up. I went to kiss her again, but she turned her head away. "Be quick, Ben! We can't get caught, not like this, and now's not the time for it! We can't make love, not here. Just fuck me, and hurry up about it!"

Sighing, I fumbled with my belt, freeing my hardness. Then I froze, realising that she still had the toy inside her; I reached between my mother's legs, fingers sliding into her heated, sopping channel. Try as I might, I could not get a grip on the egg, and after a few frustrating attempts I succeeded only in pushing it deeper inside her. Stop, stop," she whined. "Just hold your hand there, that's it..."

Her face bunched up for a moment, and I was afraid I'd somehow hurt or offended her. I kept my hand where she indicated I should be, gently rubbing it back and forth across her heated slit, and with a slight sucking noise, the egg dropped into my palm. For an instant I contemplated licking it clean and pocketing it, but instead I reluctantly dropped it on top of her sanitary pad, and it pooled, cooling, in her juices.

"Fuck me," she whispered hoarsely. "Fuck mommy." I kissed her deeply, moaning into her mouth. With her heels on, she was tall enough to make entry into her easy, and with her back supported by the solid brick wall of the restaurant and my hands holding her where her thighs flowed into her pert buttocks, her weight was well distributed. She bought one leg up, folded it around my hip, and drew me into her sizzling body.

It was amazing, indescribable. She always felt heavenly on me, but the twin taboos of incest and sex in a public place heightened every sensation. I moved slowly, trying to hit her pleasure spots. She glowered at me. "Faster, you idiot! We don't have time for this!"

I surged into her leaning close. "I want it to be good for you, mom. I want you to come, too."

She pushed me back, favouring me with another how-stupid-are-you look. "Honey, you've got a lot to learn. This has me hot, too, OK? So hot I just had to have you. Believe me, coming isn't going to be a problem. Holding myself back for you, keeping quiet? That will be, though."

Thus reassured, I began plowing into her, savagely thrusting in and out, savouring the wet, slapping sound our bodies made as we struck each other. She sucked her lower lip into her mouth, her front two teeth barely visible as she bit down to keep from crying out. One hand moved away from my shoulder, clasped her left breast, and then wound its way down to her clitoris, circling it with dizzying speed.

It was all too much for me, and I could feel my orgasm approaching. That familiar, reassuring heat in my glans, the tightening of my scrotum as my prostate gland drew on what semen it could, and the animalistic instinct to hump myself deeper into my mother's quivering flesh all began to build. It took a mighty effort to hold it back, but I managed to whisper "I'm too near, too near," to warn her.