Honest opinions wanted.
I decided not to use any “Four letter words”
Readers may substitute them as they wish.
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My mother has been described in many ways, “elegant”, “aloof”, and “aristocratic”, come to mind, but the most common has been “striking”. There was never any question as to who the dominant personality was in our household, even though my father was one of the first successes in the Silicon Valley, and owned his own software company, making him almost as rich in his own right as my mother.
If you heard her great-grandfathers surname, your mind would immediately think California, Money!! And she is the sole heir.
She is a bit over 6 feet tall in high heels, (which she almost always wears), with large firm breasts, flaring hips, and a remarkably small waist. She wears her blond hair short, a’ la Angela Lansbury, and although she has lived in California for her whole life, she avoids the direct sun in order to maintain her beautiful pale white skin. At 50 she is still breathtakingly beautiful, and turns heads everywhere she goes. She has old-fashioned ideas about foundation garments, and has a collection, of bras, corsets, garter belts, etc. worthy, of a lingerie museum. She is seldom seen, even in private, without being properly corseted, cinched, supported, and in stockings, usually seamed.
She claims to have never even tried on pantyhose, and once told me privately, that they made women into sexless “Barbie Dolls”
One of my earliest memories of her was when I was a child of perhaps 3. I got up in the middle of the night for some reason, maybe a glass of water, or perhaps I heard a noise, and as I passed my parents bedroom I noticed that the lights were on, and the door was partially open. I peeked in, and saw my mother standing there in a black satin under bust corset, with matching bra, attached black stockings, and high-heeled black patent leather boots. My Father knelt at her feet stark naked, as she scolded him for something I didn’t understand, in a tone of voice that would have been more appropriate for a child.
The most remarkable sight however was my father’s erect penis, which was much larger than it had been on any occasion when I had seen it. I was of course unaware of such things as erections or their causes.
They did not notice me, and I simply returned to bed, and completely forgot the incident until many years later.
As I grew up I never actually saw mother naked, but neither was she particularly modest. In any event I did see enough or her in various states of undress to fill in any blanks. As I got older I began to enjoy watching her, until I realized that the arousal, and eventually erections were not appropriate for a teenage boy to feel for his mother. It got easier when I went to boarding school, at my father’s insistence.
After private schools and, a University degree in Electrical Engineering, I found myself in New York working in research for an electronics company. I had found my home, and family situation uncomfortable, and I returned to California as seldom as possible.
I would probably still be in New York if not for a chain of events that happened in one month.
First one night at dinner my Fiancée announced that she was breaking our engagement.
She said that “I can’t stand having someone else in our bed any longer”
“I don’t know who it is, or whether she, or he is even real, but they are always there!”
“I am pretty certain that you are not seeing another woman, and I can’t imagine you being gay, but you obviously care more about who ever, or whatever it is more than me”.
I honestly didn’t know what she was talking about but she obviously wasn’t interested in any discussion.
In retrospect I think she was right, there was someone else, I just didn’t know who, or what it was We weren’t living together, so tidying things up was easy, and I never saw her again.
A week later I lost my job, or rather it disappeared,
One morning I arrived at the office to find it under guard, and crawling with accountants, Police, FBI agents, and even a man from Interpol!
My job, along with my boss and most of the company’s assets simply relocated to a sunny third world country, which is not yet developed enough to understand concepts like extradition treaties.
Questioning by the FBI and other agencies made job hunting temporarily pointless. For some reason being under investigation by the Feds discourages potential employers.
Three weeks later, shortly after being cleared of any wrongdoing, I received word that my father had died, and I returned to California for the funeral.
My mother was her usual regal self when she met me at the airport, and had little comment except that I would be assuming some new “responsibilities”.
The funeral went about as such things do, with the obligatory speeches about what a wonderful man he had been, His substantial charitable contributions and of course there were kartal escort bayan no references to his ruthlessness, or the people he had stepped on.
Several days later mother called me in to her study, and informed me that, after a reasonable apprenticeship. I would be taking over my father’s business, I must emphasis here that I was told, not asked. She further informed me that she had paid off the lease on my apartment in New York, arranged to have my belongings, and furniture moved to one of the apartments in our mansion, and expressed relief, that she was spared the necessity of getting rid of “that mercenary slut”, that I had been engaged to.
I was not happy being managed in this way, but I had no other immediate prospects, and frankly found my mothers desires difficult to resist.
At this time she vaguely alluded to certain other, “personal duties” that I would be required to perform.
My “apprenticeship” began at this point, and the people at the company actually seemed relieved that my father was gone. They were very co-operative, and I found subsequently that my father had ruled with an autocratic system of high pay and blackmail.
He and my mother had files on many of the household staff and company employees, that could be used to bring about disgrace or even prison.
Therefore, even though I was much easier to deal with than my father, the fear remained, and few dared to defy me, or more importantly defy my mother.
I soon began to find out about my “personal responsibilities”
My parents had a ritual that I never understood as a child. Almost every night at 10:00 pm they went to my mothers study for what they referred to as “Evening Prayers”. This is strange as they never attended church and had no interest in religion, even to the extent of not bothering to call them selves Atheists, or Agnostics, (although they contributed large sums of money to diverse religious organization).
I inquired about this ritual once and my mother told me in no uncertain terms that she would explain when and if I was ready, and I was not to enquire again. Like the rest of the house the study was virtually sound proofed, and I had never heard any indication of what was going on
Then one evening at dinner mother simply said, “Come to my study at 10:00pm for “evening prayers”, and gave me a look that clearly indicated that the matter was not to be discussed, until 10:00pm.
I, of course arrived on time and found her sitting in a large overstuffed chair She was dressed in a black satin corset, and black stockings, as she had been with my father so many years before, except to my amazement, she was not wearing the matching bra, and her large beautiful breasts were exposed to my full view. Her nipples were rouged bright red to match her lips and contrasted wonderfully with her pale white skin.
She simply said “you may kiss me”, and as I bent to kiss her cheek she turned, put her arms around me and kissed me full on the mouth, and held me for a rather long time.
When she stopped she simply said, “Please undress”, and when I understandably hesitated, she said sharply “now!” I immediately complied; she then looked at me approvingly and said you’ve taken good care of yourself.
She told me to turn around, inspected me for a time and said. “face me and kneel.”
She had lifted her legs over the arms of the chair, and all her neatly shaved female charms were exposed to my view. She gently reached around the back of my head, and pulled my face into her perfumed moistness,
It then hit me that I was licking my Mothers Pussy! And what was worse I was enjoying it! My Penis was like an iron bar covered with blue veins. I reached to relieve myself, but she said, “not yet”, and began to moan with pleasure.
Fortunately I had some skill in this area, owing to a brief relationship with an older lady professor in college, (too bad that she didn’t teach psychology as well as she taught cunnilingus).
I rhythmically licked her inner and outer labia, as I whipped her clitoris with my tongue, and alternately thrust it into her vagina. I found that I preferred a pussy without the hair, and also enjoyed the fact that mother had perfumed herself with a particular perfume that I had once mentioned liking.
Mother’s capacity for pleasure was enormous, but after a considerable time she was satisfied and allowed me to stand.
She saw my painfully erect penis, and commented that it was even bigger than my fathers and that she would attend to it. She slipped on a lubricated condom, saying that she didn’t want me to make a mess, and with her hand deftly brought me to the most intense climax I had ever experienced.
At this point she simply smiled, kissed me, and said, “tomorrow night at ten, I love you,” and I left the room exhausted and confused
I didn’t see her again until the following evening. She was waiting on the sofa in a satin dressing gown. I sat down next to her, she kissed me passionately and we petted like teenagers, escort maltepe for a half hour or so until she arose and removed the dressing gown revealing herself in a Powder Blue “all in one” Bra and Girdle, with attached (of course) sheer matching stockings, and announced that it was “Prayer Time”, She unsnapped the crotch and assumed her position in the chair and I performed my “duties” as on the preceding occasion.
This became our regular routine
On some occasions she thrust one of her nipples into my mouth, and I sucked it eagerly, as she urged me to use my tongue.
On one occasion, as a special treat, I lay on the floor and she finished me with her mouth, I came quickly incredibly aroused at the idea of receiving an exquisite blowjob from my own mother who was even better than the lady professor, who had been very accomplished indeed.
This ritual continued, on a nightly basis, with slight variations, for two months.
One variation centered on Rosalia my mother’s Salvadorian maid. A plump but not unattractive woman of about my mother’s age, who had been with her for over 15 years. Rosalia adored mother, and my mother in turn was far less imperious with her than the other servants. Indeed I always suspected that Rosalia was in love with my mother.
One evening after dinner I asked my mother about Rosalia.
She said “Rosalia as you surmised is in love with me, and while I have no particular taste for women, I don’t find Sapphic sex unpleasant, and so I reward her devotion with an occasional “visit to Lesbos”. Particularly since you fathers demise and in fact, she served at evening prayers, until you arrived”.
She continued “of course I am very demanding with her, and have occasion to punish her, which will be your responsibility, as was your father’s. I will explain when the time comes”
The time came a few days later, when I came for evening prayers. My mother was completely dressed and Rosalia was nude except for black stay-up stockings and black high heels, and was kneeling with her face on the floor with her ass thrust into the air.
Her ass was huge, but free of cellulite, and looked like an enormous peach, and in spite of myself my penis became as hard as tool steel.
My mother said, “occasionally Rosalia forgets her place and requires correction”
“I have whipped her at times, but I find her distaste for the male organ more useful”
“Now take off your clothes and use her. Both of her holes are lubricated, and you may choose which one you prefer”
I was a little concerned about this bizarre scene but I hadn’t actually had a woman in several months, and my mother and my erection were both hard to refuse. So I did as asked, and as I had no taste for the “boy” route, I had her in the traditional manner.
I entered her lubricated vagina rather quickly, and if she was relieved that I took her in that manner she didn’t indicate. I had a shattering climax very quickly, and I’m fairly sure that she didn’t but I began to wonder about her reaction I thought that while she may have been a lesbian, her pussy and hips weren’t entirely committed. She moaned through the process, although I couldn’t tell whether from pain or pleasure. I decided that if I had another opportunity I would try to make her climax.
“Rosalia come along and we will prepare for bed.” My mother interrupted my reverie. and she led Rosalia, still naked toward her private bathroom. I think they spent the night in my mother’s bed enjoying some girl-girl comforting.
Mother had laid down a number of rules “for my own good” notably I was not to become socially involved with any “girls” from the office, or as she put it “one doesn’t fish off the company dock”. Thus, the necessity of being home by 10:00pm, and the long hours at work was making my love life, except for mother’s ministrations, impossible.
Mother sensing this merely told me to be patient, and that she would make suitable arrangements, that I would find more than satisfactory.
Several days later she informed me that on Saturday we would be going to her favorite restaurant in San Francisco and spending the night at the five star hotel she normally used.
Further at that time she said that she would explain my most important responsibility.
That Thursday after dinner she told me to go up to her bedroom, and make some selections for the weekend. I did so and on her oversize bed was a selection of evening gowns, dresses, lingerie, and shoes. Significantly the skirts were mostly long, apparently because there were no panties. I wasn’t really surprised, but it was finally clear what my new responsibility was going to be. I was uncertain about what to do, but I made the selections and left.
During evening prayers that night she thrust her pussy into my mouth much harder than usual, and instead of her usual quiet moans of pleasure, she became loud and appreciative, screaming “I love you! Lick me harder! whip my clit!” and obscenities too numerous to mention.
Afterwards pendik escort she sucked my penis for the second time, without a condom this time. There was no mess, she swallowed it all!
My mind was in turmoil for the next two days, I didn’t want to do this, to make this final step. I realized that begging, pleading, and even reasoning, would have no effect on mother, once she had made up her mind. I could, of course, refuse, but I would have to leave my job, and home and mother would not speak to me perhaps forever.
Oddly the prospect of not having my mother near me was the hardest to accept.
Of course my sub-conscious mind, had no such conflict, and was focused entirely on the “V” between my mothers legs, This assured that I had an almost constant erection which I’m sure my mother noticed and appreciated.
On Friday night, overcome by desire I masturbated my self to sleep, and woke at seven, still not knowing what I was going to do.
At breakfast I was told that mother had already eaten, and would await me in her study.
When I entered her study she was wearing a conservative beautifully tailored charcoal gray suit, with a cream colored blouse matching shoes, and black stockings. Wordlessly she turned, bent over the back of the sofa and raised her skirt, and bared her beautiful bottom, and then stood turned and showed me her perfectly shaved pussy.
She then lowered the skirt, smoothed it, kissed me passionately, and said “I love you my darling”, and I followed her out of the room.
We got into her Bentley and started the hour and a half drive into San Francisco. I was speechless for half of the trip, and she sat demurely, because although the chauffeur couldn’t hear us with the intercom off he could watch everything we did..
“You seem nervous”, she finally said.
“Aren’t you?”.
“A little but not much, because I really do love you and not just as a son”
We arrived at the hotel and were shown to our suite, I tipped the bellhop and mother ordered champagne from room service.
When the Champagne, arrived with the complimentary caviar!, my mother pointed out that, “your father and I went to great trouble, and expense to keep our private lives private, and our names out of the media.”.
“In fact we discovered that even investigative reporters and entertainment journalists have guilty secrets, and that large charitable organizations have ways of protecting their contributors”.
“However in certain important circles, such as hotel management, we are very well known and appreciated, especially here because the manager knows I have a significant financial interest in the hotel”.
I sat on the sofa while she poured one glass of champagne, and sat on my lap obviously enjoying the bulge in my pants. She stuck her tongue in the champagne, and passionately French kissed me. She then handed me the glass, and poured one for herself..
We sipped champagne, nibbled on caviar, and made small talk for a few minutes. Then we had a late lunch at the hotel and went shopping.
We returned to the hotel to change for dinner. Mother of course, removed her suit in front of me, and insisted that she needed help unzipping the skirt. She removed her stockings sitting on the sofa, and walked wiggling her beautiful bottom into the bath room.
I heard the shower running, and was not invited to help, it then occurred to me that I had never actually seen my mother completely naked, and apparently this was not on the immediate agenda.
Eventually she appeared in a tight white satin waist cincher attached to black lace stockings. She was carrying her gown, and a strapless bra with which she was having “difficulties.” I put the bra on and hooked it. She then put on the teal green, taffeta evening gown, and I zipped her up. She stepped back and twirled around like a five year old in a new party dress, and said “you have wonderful taste.”.
She was the most desirable woman that I had ever seen, my own mother, and I was setting a new record for blue veined hardness. I could have played for the Yankees without a bat. I knew then that I would never be able to resist her.
I told her how beautiful she was and started to kiss her but she turned her head, so that her make-up wasn’t spoilt. She whispered that there would be plenty of time later.
We had dinner at her favorite restaurant and later we went to a little jazz club that she liked. It wasn’t bad and I was able to relax a little. We were talking to a couple at the next table, he was about my age and his girlfriend was probably too young to be drinking margaritas. When mother went to the ladies room, he whispered that if he had a wife that looked like her he wouldn’t have developed a taste for young girls.
I had decided not to correct him, when someone from another table observed that “now I know for sure that I’m gay, because if she couldn’t turn me on, no one could.”.
We were still laughing when mother came back and I told her that I would explain later.
About eleven she said “sorry to break up the party, but we have other business tonight.”
When we went back to the suite it was entirely lighted by candles and romantic music was playing. She observed that cell phones were very handy for arranging romantic things