Disclaimer: If you're not old enough to be reading this, don't. "Mother Knows Best" Chapter 6, by JValet The rest of this story can be read at storiesonline.net, or at /files/Authors/JValet Suggestions, etc., can be referred to: jvalet45@netscape.net Otherwise, read on! ----------------------------------------------------------------- "C'mon, honey. <i>Try</i> and keep up, will you?" Lynn called out to her lagging son. Her long legs ate up the ground as her ruffled black skirt swirled about firm, tanned thighs. Strappy black sandals perched her feet on four-inch pedestals which rang loudly against the linoleum floor of the shopping mall, despite the crowds. Justin might have been hanging back to scan the faces, legs, chests of the other assorted females doing their gendered duty at the Twin Oaks Shopping Centre. That rationalization did nothing to explain why his gaze kept sliding back to that strip of flesh between his mother's skirt, and the hem of her filmy blouse, or why he seemed to be so fascinated with the way her skirt twitched back and forth in response to the movements of her hips. Of course, it might also have had something to do with the half-dozen or so bags he was carrying. It had been a busy morning. First, a trip to the nearest shoe-store. "I <i>hate</i> those fucking salesmen," she told him, striding into the store. "Always trying to push shit on you that you don't want. And they're always such fucking pervs. Brrrrr! It gives me cold shivers. So, could you give me a hand?" "Sure," he shrugged, not looking at Lynn, but still blushing all the same. He'd been blushing all morning, ever since getting up to find his mom making breakfast in a tiny, wispy robe that left little to the imagination, and even less than that when she stood in strong light. She seemed unusually bright this morning. "A hand" had turned out to be running interference between his mother and the salesmen, asking for such and such a shoe in such and such a size, and helping her try them on. His fingers squeezed her cute little foot gently as he slipped one sandal off, and slid another pump on. His hands were luxuriating in the touch of her smooth skin, even if his eyes were religiously averted to the ground. The burgeoning erection in his pants was obvious to Lynn when he stood to ask for another size, or another colour, or another style. She began asking for boots, so he wouldn't be able to help from touching those long, long legs, caressing the kidskin shafts of the footwear almost as he would caress his own cock. <i>And I called the salesmen perverts,</i> she thought to herself with an inward giggle. Justin's strong young hands would linger on her knees, just under the hem of her skirt, as though they were horses, chomping at the bit to be let free to do their business. Once, Lynn had let her bare foot idle in his lap, just for a moment, gauging the strength of his erection. Unless the lad was carrying a lead pipe in his pants, he had apparently recovered from last night's escapades nicely. She scrunched her toes once, then retracted her foot. "I think we've spent enough time here, don't you?" She asked, with an impish smile on her face. "We'll take these," she gestured at a pair of tall black leather boots, and a pair of fiery red pumps. They window-shopped for a time, until they wandered past an American Eagle. "Oooh!" She said, grasping Justin's arm. "I need a new pair of jeans," as he tripped along behind her, Lynn immediately began sifting through first the clearance rack of denim outside the store, then started working her way inwards. "You can wander, if you want." She said, turning to look at him. "Just don't wander too far. See if there's anything here you want for the fall." She trailed off, vanishing among a collection of clothes racks. Lynn almost thought she heard him heave a sigh. Silly boy. Fifteen minutes later, a call rang out through the store. "Justin, can you come here a minute?" He found her, arm hanging out of the dressing-room door, a finger beckoning him over. With a nervous glance around the store, he sidled up to the door. "What?" He hissed through the opening. The hand grabbed his shirt, and dragged him bodily inside the dressing room. "Well?" She asked, as soon as Justin had composed himself. "What do you think?" Lynn streched her arms skyward, posing herself for her son. The sleeveless beige t-shirt she wore lifted as her arms did, exposing the firm charms of her much-worked abdominals. A cartoon of a voluptuous woman was draped across her breasts, giving Justin the come-hither look that Lynn longed to give him. Instead of jeans, he discovered, she was wearing a denim skirt, barely a foot long, the fabric tight, faded, and slung low on her hips. It was especially tight around her ass, gripping the firm cheeks like an old glove. Lynn made sure that he got the opportunity to look as she spun slowly for him. "Is it too young, do you think?" She asked with a smile. "N-no! I mean, it looks, you look, it's great." The words tumbled over themselves to escape his mouth. "But I thought you were looking for jeans?" "Oh! Right. Lemme show you!" She bent over to pick up a neatly folded pile of denim, and she could swear she heard an agonized groan. "Now, turn around," she gave him the 'spin' signal with her hand. "Unless you <i>want</i> to see your mom with her pants off." Justin obeyed, and soon found himself facing a full-length mirror. It was his choice as to whether or not he'd watch the skirt fall down his mom's beautiful, long legs. Or whether or not he'd ogle the stark white thong that contrasted so beautifully with her tanned asscheeks. Or whether or not he'd touch himself surreptitiously as she wriggled her curves into the skintight denim. They left American Eagle with two more bags. Their next visit took the pair to a Garage, where Lynn picked up a whole host of tube and tank tops in a rainbow of tight, clingy fabrics, all of which fit into one bulging bag. The smallest bag of all read "Victora's Secret." It contained Lynn's new bikini, which consisted of three scraps of fabric arranged in the most cock-stiffeningly manner possible, a fact to which Justin could attest. Now they found themselves wending their way towards the food-court, for lunch. "Aw, shit," Lynn muttered not quite under her breath. The Bottled Blonde Bitch. Cassandra Smythe. One of the other women working on Lynn's floor, Cassandra was a pretentious, overpriced, oversexed whore who had fucked her way up to Lynn's floor and had designs on the next one up. Rumour had it that the cost of Cassandra's hair dye had exceeded the price she'd paid for the titantic sillicone baloons that shimmied and shook with each step. And she was shimmying and shaking her way towards them, halooing all the way. Justin's eyes just about popped out of his head as she approached; "Let me do the talking, sweetheart," Lynn told him in an aside before Cassandra got into earshot. "Lynn! Darling!" Came the cry, as soon as she was within shouting distance. Her neon pink tube top, bright against her deep, chemically- induced tan, was almost as loud. It announced her availability to anyone with eyes and a cock. "It's so <i>good</i> to see you!" The pair shared fake cheek kisses. "It's such a <i>nice</i> day, isn't it? The fresh air must do you old folks a <i>power</i> of good, as my daddy used to say." Her eyes sidled over to Justin, and raked him in such a blatantly hungry way that he felt, for the first time, what the term "maneater" really meant. "And <i>who</i> is this treasure you've been hiding away?" Cassandra turned her full gaze and her full cleavage onto him, and the array was dizzying. "You haven't got caught up helping this little old lady across the street, have you, darling?" She inched closer to him, so that the tips of her gargantuan breasts were almost touching his chest. "Justin and I were just shopping," Lynn replied coldly. "<i>Really</i>," Cassandra gushed. "Trying on some fresh rags, darling? And <i>why</i> haven't you brought this <i>delightful</i> young man to any of the staff parties? Afraid someone's going to steal him from you?" She turned her gaze back to Lynn's son. "How about it? Are you ready to trade in last year's model for something a little more 'modern'? A little something with a few more curves and a lot less mileage?" Lynn was flabbergasted. Cassandra was a filthy whore, yes, but she never thought that she was so brazen as to proposition someone else's man right in front of said someone. Justin was clearly floundering as the garish bitch nonchalantly rubbed her rubber boobs against him, but all she could do was gape in silent horror. What if he said yes? What if all her teasing had simply horned him up to go off with this, this, unholy fucking <i>bitch</i>?! Then, a sudden steely gaze came over Justin's eyes. "Less mileage? You? You've got to be kidding. You look like you've had so many cocks in you it'd be like trying to fuck a canyon." Cassandra took a shocked step backwards. "And what's the deal with those fucking pontoons? Are you expecting a flood or something? Now this," and he slipped his arm around Lynn's shoulders. She was shaking like a leaf inside, expectant. "Is a classic chasse; nice, tight lines; all the original bodywork; and she purrs like a kitten when you treat her right. Trade in <i>this</i>? For <i>that</i>? You've got to be kidding." Cassandra, the Bottle Blonde Bitch goggled, then jawed, then fumed, then stormed off, wordless for the first time in her life. Lynn squealed with delight and, taking Justin's face in her hands, kissed him repeatedly on the cheeks. "Thank you! Thankyouthankyou thankyouthankyou! You've done something I've never seen anybody else do - you shut that whore down. Thank you baby." She stared into her son's eyes, and suddenly an idea popped into her head. Why not take advantage of the situation? Looking past him to a point across the food court, she frowned, and said, "Shit. She's still watching us. Hey - do you really want to fuck her up?" Justin, caught up in the rush of his speech, said "definitely," without hesitation. "Good. Now, just follow my lead," drawing closer to her son, Lynn's lips parted, softened, and then took Justin's in a long, passionate kiss. Initially, he stood rooted to the spot, his own lips slack, as though shocked, and paralysed with the fear of being caught kissing his own mother. It was not long, however, before a great moan of relief escaped from his throat, and he began to kiss back; and when her tongue made its first exploratory forays into his mouth, Lynn found him neither paralysed nor hesitant to respond in kind. Her hands began to roam down from his face, caressing his broad young back, his hips, touching the crests of his behind. Following her lead, Justin's own hands, eager from this morning's sojourn in the shoe store, began to touch every inch of skin he could, fingers roaming all the way down to the small of her back, pulling her even closer, eliminating what little space remained between them. She could feel his powerful erection burning into her skin through his pants and her skirt, and, unable to help herself, Lynn began to subtly rub her pelvis over her son's bulge. Justin's response was electric: his hand immediately dropped to her firm buttocks, and began kneading the meaty assflesh veiled only by a thin skirt. He couldn't even feel her panties, if she wore any. As his hands ventured further down, Lynn lifted her leg, allowing him to slip down her soft thigh, and then back up again, heading underneath the hem of her skirt, picking up a trail of hot slime on the way up. Then, suddenly, Lynn broke the kiss. "She's gone. We can stop now." "Who? What?" Justin asked in a daze. "Cassandra. She's gone. Why don't we go home? I'm sick of this place now." With that, she disengaged from her son, and walked off towards the exit, leaving him to grab the shopping bags, and run after her as best he could, with an iron-hard erection in his pants. She stayed far ahead of him all the way out to the car, just so he wouldn't see just how flushed her face was. Her hands, however, didn't stop shaking until they were home. * * * Lynne unlocked the front door, and walked into the hall, taking a deep breath. Turning, she fixed Justin with a stare, and spoke for the first time since they'd left the mall. "Honey, how much of what you said to Cassandra was true?" Justin stopped short, forgetting the open door behind him. "What?" "You heard me. Do you really think that way?" "Weeeell, you know, you're um, much prettier than she was, right?" Justin floundered, not knowing what she wanted to hear. "That's not what I asked," she strode towards him until they were practically nose to nose. Reaching out, she pushed the front door shut. Her breasts brushed up against his chest, and his breath caught in his throat. "You said I had 'nice, tight classic lines.' Do you really think of me that way?" "I, um, well, you know, just you're really pretty, mom. That's all." He smiled a desperate smile. "What you said meant more than just 'pretty,'" she stared into his eyes. "When you compliment to the shape of a woman's body, you're not just calling her 'pretty,' Justin. You're telling her that she's hot, that she's sexy, and everything that implies. Do you really think that way?" Her voice dropped to a husky whisper. "Do you think I'm sexy?" "I-I-I-" Justin stammered, and blushed to the roots of his hair. "I left a pair of panties in the bathroom last night," she said, toying with a button on his shirt. "They weren't there this morning. Have you seen them? They were tiny, white, and <i>very</i> wet." Lynn leaned in and whispered in his ear, "did you take them? Did you take mommy's panties, honey? Did you <i>play</i> with mommy's dirty panties? How did you like the way they smelled? The way they felt on your naughty penis? It's okay if you did, you know. I know that sometimes naughty little boys like looking at their mommies, watching them get dressed, undressed, <i>playing with themselves</i>." "Mom!" Justin said indignantly. "I'd never, I mean I've never, I mean it's just..." "Wrong?" She asked mischeviously. "Wrong to squat outside mommy's room, playing with yourself while mommy changes? Wrong to steal mommy's panties and sniff them while you jerk that big, hard, cock? It's very, very wrong. But I bet it felt soooo good, didn't it? Watching mommy play with her needy pussy? Smelling mommy's panties so you can imagine what that pussy tastes like? Kissing mommy like you did at the mall, grinding <i>this</i> into her hip?" One of her hands snaked down to grab the iron rod tenting his trousers. "Are you sure you've never done any of that? Because maybe, just maybe, <i>mommy wanted you to do all of that.</i>" "Yess," he hissed, while she lightly played with his dick outside his pants. "I did it. Everything." "You played with your cock while mommy changed?" "Yes." "You stole mommy's panties to sniff?" "Yes!" "You humped mommy in the mall because you were just so horny you couldn't take it anymore?" A hand vanished underneath her skirt, and came back wet. "YES!" "Good." She lifted her hand to his face. "'Cause mommy's horny too, baby." Lynn's glistening fingers forced themselves into Justin's mouth, and he lapped eagerly at her tasty digits, remembering how good her panties had tasted, remembering the "dream" of eating her out last night on the couch. When her fingers finally slid from his mouth, Justin tried to kiss his mom on the mouth again, but she stopped him. "Nu-uh," she said. "No foreplay. We've been foreplaying all fucking week long, and now mommy just wants to get <i>fucked</i>!" Lynn grabbed the front of his shirt, and began dragging her son backwards, toward the couch. "I love you, honey. I love you, and I want you, and I want your <i>fucking</i> cock in me right now. I've been dreaming of this moment for months!" "I've been dreaming too, mom. Oof!" Lynn turned on her heels, and threw him bodily on the couch. "Just last night, I dreamt that you snuck into my room, and..." "...fucked your little brains out?" She finished with a wolfish grin. "Well, honey, prepare for a dream cum true. Now take those damn pants off!" He immediately set to obeying his mother, and while he wriggled out of his clothing, she slid out of hers. His jeans hit the floor at the same time that her skirt puddled around her feet. Justin took a moment to admire her slim form, finally able to ogle those perfect handfuls of titflesh, with their pretty pink caps. Finally able to see those pouty, pendant pussy lips, dripping lubricant to the hardwood below. Finally able to drink in the entirety of his mom's fantastic gams, still perched atop the five-inch heels on her adorable little feet with their suckably edible toes. Still grinning, Lynn sauntered towards him, and threw one long leg over his prostate, admiring form. "Finally!" She gloated. "Finally! No more hiding, honey. No more wanking by yourself. Now we can fuck fuck fuck like fucking honeymooners. Because your cock is finally <i>mine</i>!" With that, she sank down on his meaty spire, claiming her prize at last. "Oh Godddd, mom! You're so fucking <i>tight</i>!" Unable to control himself, Justin grabbed her hips and pulled her down, feeding his entire cock into her hungry little cunt. "Tight?" She mocked. "You don't know tight, honey." Lynn flexed her Kegels, using her pussy to grab a hold of his thick shaft, and work it without moving. "Mom!" He cried. "It's like a fucking hand! It's like you're fucking giving me a hand-job with your pussy." "You talk too much," she growled, mauling one of her tits. "Shut up and fuck me. Pump my cunt with that big young cock, boy. Fuck mommy <i>hard</i>." Only too happy to oblige, Justin put his feet up on the arm of the couch for extra leverage, and began pistoning his dick into his mother's cunt as fast and as hard as he could. "Oh, <i>shit</i> yeah!" Lynn enthused. "Fuck me, fuck me, my baby boy! Your fucking dick feels sooo good in mommy's pussy...I want you to fuck me like this every day! Twice a day! As much as you can handle, honey, cause mommy's got a lot of fucking to make up for. Four years of shitty sex with your dad, fourteen years of shitty sex with losers in bars...that makes at least eighteen years of hot sex that you owe me, baby. That's right! Just like that! Fuck mommy just like that, make mommy cum, honey. Make me cum, and fill my cunt with your fucking seed! Ohhhh, yeah! Give me all your cum! Fill me up with all that delicious spunk...shoot it deep into mommy's pussy and give me a baby, baby. Mmmmm, yeah. Give mommy another little boy. This time we can raise him right! Teach him how good mommy's pussy feels right from the <i>fucking</i> start! Fuck me! Fuck ME! FUCK MEEEEE!!!!" Lynn's shriek of ecstasy as she spilled over the edge into orgasm was soon joined by Justin's own cry as he shot wad after wad of thick man-goo into her unprotected pussy, filling her to the brim, pushing huge gouts of spew out of her cunt as he continued to fuck doubletime, sending his mom into the rapture of a second orgasm close on the tail of the first. Eventually, they got up from the couch, but it was well past dinnertime before they did.