Son! Its wrong – Chapter 3

Incest stories: Son! Its wrong – Chapter 3

Author: eroticbeing

“Ok, we’ll make sure to be quiet.”

Mum blew me a small kiss.

The next night it was hard to know how to dress, I wanted to look good for Mum, but didn’t want to overdo it. However when I thought about it, I knew that she would present herself well, and thought that I should also, and if Dad was true to form, he most likely wouldn’t even notice.

It’s a lot easier for men, we just put on nice pair of slacks, a clean shirt, clean shoes, and we’re set. But women have to have everything just right, and just right she was. She wore a simple green Thai Silk dress, it wasn’t new, we’d seen it before, but it was special.

It had about a dozen small buttons all the way up from the bottom to the top, a fairly low neckline, short sleeves, and a belt at the waist. It stopped an inch above her knees. The one thing that it did do was to emphasis her three best features, her breasts, her legs and her rear end, she looked sensational. I’d taken a bit of care, but compared to Mum, I looked like a workman just home from the factory.

As I saw her my jaw dropped and I hoped that she didn’t hear the soft, “fuck!!” that escaped my lips. I wondered if she’d overdressed as when he saw her, Dads head turned round for a second look, before going back to watch the wrestling. By the time we’d said our goodbyes, he would have forgotten about us.

I was in a dream, when we got to the car in the garage, I looked at her in awe. I opened my mouth but no words came out, and then without engaging my brain, my mouth let out softly, “fuck you’re hot.”

Normally she would have voiced her disapproval of the language, but the only sign of that, was as she slightly screwed up her mouth, however the light in her eyes showed that she took it for the spontaneous complement that it was. I drove, we took her car, as it was clean, mine never was. We drove mostly in silence, there didn’t seem any need for words.

Before we’d got too far down the street, she without looking at me, placed her hand softly over mine, and left it there until we’d arrived and I’d turned off the engine. We parked in a quiet side street near the theatre, and as the engine died she looked at me in the dark saying in her softest voice, “is this a date, is this our first date?”

My heart was pounding and I already had the start of an erection as I looked at her, leaning across and just before kissing her softly, said, “yes and you’re the most beautiful date that I’ve ever had, first or otherwise.”

As we were early for the theatre, the kiss, like all of our kisses, just drifted on and on, as if we were a million miles from anywhere, and in no hurry to be anywhere else. When we broke apart, and looking at me with tears in her eyes and her voice cracking with emotion she said, “no one has ever kissed me like that, no one ever.”

We paused for a moment so that she could dab her eyes and fix her lips, and then until we got out into the lights we walked holding hands.

The theatre was almost empty, there were only three other people in as this was the last night, so we sat as far away from them as we could. When the lights went down Mum leaned against me. I took it as a sign that she wanted my arm around her. As I pulled her towards me, it was too easy for me to place my hand softly onto her breast, she gave me an exasperated look, then moved it to her shoulder. But I wasn’t happy about that and moved it down to her hip, which I rubbed softly several times, then saying, “what beautiful material.”

“Thank you,” as she placed her hand over mine, was it affection, or was it to stop me again touching something that I shouldn’t?

Soon we settled down into what was a more comfortable position for both of us, with Mums head on my shoulder, her arm across me, and her forehead just under my ear. This seemed to leave my hand now with complete freedom to roam wherever it wanted to.

I started by running the tips of my fingers lightly over her arm, her shoulder, and then her throat, until it came to rest casually on the top of her chest, with the tips of my fingers just burrowing slightly into her soft cleavage. She said nothing, but she did rub her forehead against my jaw, before lifting her face and kissing me under my ear, then moving back to focus on the film.

Naturally my hand slid down to cup her breast, my fingers seeking out her nipple, it was already thick and hard. The change to her breathing told me that she was getting pleasure from it, Mum was also pressing her forehead into the space under my jaw.

We were only a few minutes into the film and she’d now abandoned all pretence of watching it, and had her face hard against my neck, kissing all the way from my jaw to the hairline behind my ear. Her hot breath and mouth on my neck made me think that we were getting a bit too far down the track for a mother and son in the cinema, so I pulled away slightly.

“What’s wrong?”

“We’re going to get arrested.”

“Then take your hand off my breast.”

My response was to press her nipple harder between my thumb and forefinger, the pain caused her to bite her bottom lip, but she didn’t say stop. Her eyes sparkled with fire, and we then kissed, just a short one, not at all like one of our standard five minute ‘canoe in the river’ kisses. The film by now being largely ignored and forgotten. As was now the routine, her bottom lip seemed to have found its place between my teeth. She seemed to like having her lip bitten and stretched away from her, until it would stretch no more, and spring back into place. Sometimes I bit her slightly too hard, and she’d draw in her breath, but never told me to stop.

I of course was watching to see if anyone had noticed what we were up to, as best as I could tell, no one had to that point, Mum just didn’t seem to care.

As the kiss ended, Mum put her mouth back against my throat and went back to nibbling my skin. I made several unsuccessful attempts to slide my hand inside her bra, but she was sitting twisted which made it firmer against her skin. So that the best that I could do was to get two fingers in far enough to capture her nipple, but that was all.

She ignored my struggles and continued to kiss my neck, then after a short time got up. My heart sank I thought that she’d had enough because I’d pushed her too far.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I need the bathroom.”

I wasn’t interested in the stupid film, and waited impatiently for Mums return. She slid back easily into my arms, my hand rested for a moment on her chest, but something was different. Moving downwards inch by inch, it slid very easily further into her dress, and cupped her now naked breast. She’d removed her bra, and her entire beautiful, naked breast was mine to enjoy.

It was warm and firm to my touch, I couldn’t fit it all in my hand, so I compromised by cupping as much as I could, to be then able to run my thumb across her nipple with ease. Both her nipple and I enjoyed that arrangement.

Looking up at me, she smiled the look of love that only a mother could have for her son, saying, “I hope I don’t regret that.”

“You won’t,” I replied continuing to cup her breast in my palm, and then squeezing her nipple softly between my thumb, and the base of my index finger. “Nice?”

With a look of ecstasy on her face, and half hooded eyes she bit her bottom lip, and nodded, “Very.”

“Then you’re not regretting it?”

She shook her head, “not yet at least,” and went back to kissing my neck. So that was the way we watched the rest of the movie, with Mum sometimes having to bite her lip to stop everyone in the theatre from knowing how much she was enjoying her son massaging her breast and nipple.

The only time we changed anything was when Leonardo De Caprio’s character, kissed Joanna Lumley’s character, when we showed them both how a kiss should really be. I read in a magazine that they’d needed about thirty takes before these two big time stars got it right. They should’ve used Mum and I, we got it spot on first time, every time.

We just continued to kiss and cuddle from there on, she kissed my neck and I of course played with her beautiful naked breast, or at least as much of it as I could get into my hand.

As soon as the final music started we moved quickly from the cinema, not stopping in the foyer in case someone who’d seen what we were doing inside recognised us. When we reached the dark, we again held hands all the way to the car, and of course as soon as the doors closed behind us, we were kissing again, with my hand instantly onto her breast.

Mum pulled away saying, “we’re going to have to pull back a little from now on, if we don’t it’ll go too far and your Dad’ll work out what’s happening, ok?”

She was right of course but that was something that I didn’t want to hear.

“Do we have to?”

“Yes of course we do, it’s gone too far tonight really,” and as she softly stroked the side of my face, added, “but I’ve enjoyed myself more than I have in years.”

“Maybe we can do it again soon.”

Still stroking my face she said, “I think that’d be nice, let’s start to talk about it in front of him and see what he says, now let’s go as we all have work tomorrow.”

Mum again put her hand on top of mine all the way home, only removing it when the car had completely stopped in the garage. She said, “better not kiss me here until we know if he’s still up or not.” I was disappointed, but had to agree, it made sense, even though sense wasn’t something that I was too interested in at the time.

We moved quietly to the bottom of the stairs from where we could hear him in bed softly snoring. I put both my arms around her and cupped her breasts, but she pulled away saying, “oh I’ve left my purse under the front seat, it’s got my make up in it and I’ll need it in the morning, would you be a love and get it for me please?”

“Do you really need it now?”

“No, not now, but I will in the morning, please be a darling and get it for me.”

“Ok wait here, I’ll be right back.”

Not really seeing why she needed it right now, I went to the car, and then returned. When I did she wasn’t there, but neatly folded over the back of a chair was the green Thai Silk dress, with her underwear on the top.