A Mother’s Pride Ch. 04

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It took a while for my Matthew to accept that his aunt’s dark threats were both empty and meaningless. There was no way my sister would carry out any revenge on us, let alone make our actions public knowledge.

It was true enough, though, that I had gone against the agreement – that no one else would get to know of the sexual relationship that Matthew and I were now sharing – but even so, he came to agree that my sister, his aunt, was an exception. And in any case, whatever she had said couldn’t hide the fact that she had enjoyed he own participation – okay, had enjoyed being fucked by her nephew – too much to risk any complaints outside of my four walls.

For his part, Matthew soon came to accept that things had taken their naturally unnatural path, and I eventually – genuinely – allowed him to make another notch in the leg of his bed. I was secretly highly delighted when I was allowed to view the mark he’d made. It was so much smaller than the giant gouge that was meant to represent me.

Once things had returned to our new version of ‘normal’ he spent every night in my bed – a rare treat for me almost as much as it was a first for my boy. And sex – well, let’s just say that I was permanently rather sore. Matthew even started every morning for me by bringing me a coffee, a rose (and my morning-after pill during the first week) before I was even properly awake. I loved that, even though the coffee was often stone-cold by the time our early morning fun and games gave me time to sit up and drink it. I’m almost amazed that the roses didn’t shed their petals given how long some of the fun and games lasted.

Deep down at the back of my admittedly dirty mind I was still aware that the relationship was a temporary affair, and that I was trying to help educate my son – even if my lifetime orgasm count was threatening to treble in just a couple of months. And so it was that ‘education’ became a theme, although for ‘education’ read ‘wild experiments to see what really got us buzzing’.

I’ve already mentioned somewhere in my written ramblings that it had become clear that the genetics shared between Matthew and I seemed to provide a very strong link, and this was certainly true when it came to our preferences. Ever since I was a teenager, maybe even one younger than my boy is now, I have enjoyed teasing displays. Very daring clothing has always been one of the biggest thrills for me, so when it became clear that my son absolutely adored me being that daring – without any prompting from me, I might add – I was more than happy to play along.

Because of the nature of our agreement and the relationship in general, any such activity had to take place a long way from home where we would not risk anyone recognising us – and where I need never show my face again. And so it was that we began the third week of our fun and games at a hotel in a far-flung part of the country where we were to stay for three naughty nights. It was the first day of August when we arrived and the summer sun was, by British standards, unseasonably hot – which gave me the perfect excuse to wear as little as decency laws allowed. I started that way from the moment we checked in – Matthew looking very mature for his teenage years, and my dress cut low enough that the clerk behind the counter didn’t even notice I might have been a good few years older than ‘Mr Smithson’, my partner – and we were soon in our room getting ready for our first foray into the small hotel bar.

“Too much?” I asked Matty, modelling a tiny summer dress for him.

“I guess ‘too little’ would be a more appropriate question,” he grinned “but the answer is ‘no’ either way. Just don’t sneeze – you’ll pop out of the top of that thing!”

I laughed, “You’d object to that?”

“Actually, no way, ma. I might even ask if they’ve got any spare pepper down there.”

“You’re a very naughty boy… but I adore you. Are you ready to go down?”

The new, mature, Matthew closed the gap between us and planted a very mature kiss on my lips, “As long as you are, ma. And as long as you really don’t think this is too much. Or maybe that should be too little.”

I pressed up against him, “Judging by a certain bulge, I reckon this particular experiment is already working for you – and Matty? Just as a bonus, I honestly love being this daring anyway.”

That much was very true and I had really dressed for the occasion. The frock was extremely short, its hem no more than an inch or two below my very brief, silky panties. It’s neckline was probably even more daring, plunging into a ‘v’ that ended just below my bra-less breasts, the loose material just covering two very erect, very tingly nipples. My son’s comment about sneezing was not far from the truth. To complete the outfit I wore a pair of sandals with three inch heels – enough to make me just an inch shorter than my ‘companion’ and which gently stressed my thighs into a smooth muscular shape that appealed to me almost as much as my sex-mad son.

“Do we have to go down yet, ma, or can we spend a few minutes here illegal bahis first?”

I snorted a very un-ladylike giggle, “Matthew! We’ve only just got out of the damned bed. And anyway, I want you gagging for my bod by the time we get back here so a little teasing time is only right.” I paused and gave him my dirtiest smile, “Or don’t you want guys looking at me this way down there now?”

“Oh god yes!”

“So,” I trailed a hand down his cheek, “You want to be seen as the guy who is lucky enough to get to know what the other few inches under this dress look like… naked?”

“Oh yes.”

“You want them all to know that you’re the one that’s going to be bringing me back to your room and… fucking my brains out?”

“Ma! Yes, okay? At this rate I’ll be cumming in my shorts before we even get back here!” He cupped my butt cheeks, “Maybe even before we leave here!”

I slipped back out of his grasp with another giggle, “Good! Let’s get down there then.” I turned and virtually ran out of the door before he could change my mind.

Even with the journey under way, my son was clearly torn between wanting to go through with the daring little show and wanting to get me back into the hotel bed. For my part, I reckoned that the sooner we got playing our games – educating him, of course – the better. The summer was going to be short enough as it was – and my period was due before the week was out – so the more fun and games we could pack in, the better. And besides, it had been a long time since I’d had the chance to be that daring and quite frankly, I was looking forward to letting my inner slut have free rein for a few hours.

All of which did not stop Matthew from running his finger deliciously over my nipples (and under my dress) in the lift. At least I could blame my blush on the heat when we finally stepped into the bar.

He took my hand in a vice-like grip as we walked up to the counter, displaying the nervousness he must have been feeling, but was still capable of asking a suddenly very attentive bar-tender for two glasses of white wine. He asked for ‘something a little dry, cold to the point of near-solidity’ – words that I had taught him so that he would appear older than his years, and which proved totally pointless since the barman’s whole attention was focused on the front of my dress.

I should point out that I hadn’t, before that summer, allowed Matthew anything more than the occasional bottle of lager, but since we had been together as a sexual couple, the rule had been relaxed a little – although he was never allowed enough to threaten a loss of performance.

The drinks finally arrived – mine delivered in a very ‘James Bond’ manner since the barman’s hands were shaking slightly and only stirring my inner thrills – and I indicated two of the high stools that lined the front of the counter. “Shall we?”

Matthew’s eyes almost popped out of his head when he considered the height of the seats and the length of my dress. “Er… yes… if you’re sure?”

“Oh, I am,” I said, “After all, if we’re going to enjoy ourselves, surely that would be a great start, don’t you think?”

“Oh yes, m… Maisie.”

I laughed, pleased that he’d remembered to use an alias rather than his usual ‘ma’. The name ‘Maisie’ had been chosen out of sheer naughtiness – being both easy to remember for my son, and very reminiscent of an earlier naughty evening. It was too much for me to hope that it might somehow end up associated with my sister, but you never knew. “Well, thank you, Michael. Will you help me up there?”

He led me the few feet to the barstool and held out a hand for me to use as support as I took my place, the dress riding so high that he was in no doubt that I had chosen the very thin, silky white knicks that I knew he loved. With his body between me and the rest of the bar – there were already six other guests sipping at pre-dinner drinks – he made no pretence in hiding his approval.

“You’re looking fantastic, Maisie.”

“Why, thank you, lover.”

He rolled his eyes and looked higher at last. He’d been about to sip at his drink but almost choked, “And… and the… I mean…”

I looked down to where his eyes were now fixed on my neckline. Or more to the point, where the top of the dress hung a little away from my breasts. I could clearly see my nipples. “Is it me, or is it very hot in here?” I managed.

Matthew had recovered a tiny bit of poise, “Bare hot… way hot, I mean.”

I laughed, my belly turning joyous cartwheels, “At least the wine’s nice and cold. Do you think we can have another soon?”

My son’s eyes flicked between me, sitting sideways on to the bar, and the barman who was hovering a few metres further down the bar. I could see Matthew calculating the view that the barman would be treated to and he nodded fast, “I reckon that’d be perfect.”

“Are you sure, Michael? It won’t be… too much? Wine, I mean.”

He stepped forward then and kissed my cheek, whispering ‘I love it. Love you.’ Before stepping back and illegal bahis siteleri louder, saying, “I think we’ve earned a little relaxation, Maisie. It’s just fine by me.”

“Good,” I lifted my glass and drained it in one long swallow. My own nervousness was disappearing faster than the wine, and something about the fairly obvious bulge in my son’s tailored shorts was only encouraging my inner slut, “Shall I order, this time?”

He nodded, clearly unable to speak, and I motioned for the barman to come closer.

I won’t deny it. I knew that there wasn’t ‘an outside chance’ that the guy behind the ramp would see more than maybe he should. I knew it was a certainty that, from his angle, he would be able to see very clearly down the front of the dress – knew that he would see a very hard nipple. But I didn’t – didn’t want to – hesitate. Whatever you think about this mum in slut’s clothing, though, know this: I had never before so brazenly flashed my body at any man, ever. When the guy’s eyes trailed down to my aching nipple I felt my panties start to darken with my juices.

“Two more please… Peter,” I read his name tag, “If that’s okay?”

He nodded, barely hearing me, “Yeah. It’s fine. Perfect.” He grabbed at the glass, securing it at the second attempt, and dashed back to the wine bottles.

I made a show of turning back to my gawping son, “Finish your drink before Peter gets back with mine,” I smiled, “And I take it you approve?”

He nodded almost frantically, slurping down the wine and managing to put the glass on the bar just beside me.

I laughed then, finally and fully relaxed, “This feels very nice… I mean nice in here,” I added for the barman’s benefit as he returned with my glass.

“Yeah… Maisie. It’s perfect.”

Peter took my son’s glass, his eyes roving over my slightly visible breast the whole time, “Just what I was saying,” he muttered.

“What could be better?” Matthew agreed, “Nice wine, great atmosphere. Lovely company.”

“You can say that again, sir.” The barman turned away, muttering something else which sounded a lot like ‘lucky fucker’.

I leaned forward and planted a kiss on Matthew’s nose, “You are a lucky fucker, aren’t you?”

“I should ask you to sit up again while I say ‘yes’ a hundred times,” he managed. He lowered his voice, “Because if you stay leaning forward like that the barman-“

“Peter.”

“Whatever. That lucky fuck is going to see your whole tit!”

“I thought you wanted some fun and games?” I smiled.

Matthew nodded, “It’s perfect.”

“So, you want me to stay like this?”

My son’s eyes widened a little, “You will?”

I nodded slowly, a quick glance to my side showing me that Peter was having trouble uncorking the next bottle. Maybe his hands were shaking. “I’d like to. For you. For us.”

“Perfect, perfect, perfect!”

I could see movement out of the corner of my eye and, unmoving myself, raised my voice, “You can kiss me, you know?”

Matthew grabbed my arm and pressed his lips hard to mine. He was holding me positioned forward and I just let him, the air flowing softly across my completely exposed breast. I pushed my tongue between his lips.

Beside us, Peter the barman eventually coughed to get our attention – none too quickly – and Matthew broke the kiss, although not his grip on my upper arm, “Oh, sorry. M… Maisie here was distracting me. Put it on our room tab, 1224, okay?”

“I can see what the distraction is,” the guy muttered, before saying louder, “No problem, sir.”

Matthew took a deep breath and moved the game up a notch, “Yes, well, Maisie is terribly distracting sometimes… Can you blame me?”

I pretended to be a little annoyed, “Michael!”

Peter was more direct, “Your… friend?”

“My partner.”

“Yeah well, sir, your partner, I must admit if I may be so bold is delightfully distracting.”

“Men!” I laughed softly, freeing myself from Matthew’s grip and sitting back, “It’s all very kind of you – both – but can’t you ever say what you mean directly? If you are both enjoying a little show of flesh in this dress, then feel free to say it. I won’t be offended.” All of a sudden, I meant exactly that.

“I love the show that dress allows,” Matthew managed.

It seemed to free Peter but he kept his voice low, “Sir is right, ma’am. That dress shows a lovely lot.”

Heart beating fast I pretended that I didn’t know exactly what they meant, “Does it show too much then?” I leaned forward, looking down, “Oh I say! Sorry guys!”

“No need to apologise to me, ma’am, you have lovely… a lovely figure for it.”

“She does, doesn’t she?” Matthew swallowed hard, “Maisie has the most spectacular figure.”

I sat back again, laughing, unable to conjure an embarrassed blush but a little red-faced anyway, “I have a feeling you’re both still trying to be polite about what this silly little dress was showing off!”

“Well I don’t normally say as much, ma’am, but if you really don’t mind me saying, canlı bahis siteleri I meant you have great breasts.”

Matthew kissed my nose, “Yeah, my Maisie has fantastic breasts. And I don’t care who knows!”

I swatted his arm playfully, “Michael! You naughty man.”

My son shrugged, “It’s true though. Fantastic tits!”

“That’s more honest,” I managed, “Even if it’s an exaggeration.”

Peter coughed, “That’s no exaggeration, ma’am. You really do have great tits and that dress is perfect for them.”

A glance down told me that Matthew was fully hard in his shorts, “Thank you for being so honest, Peter. I must admit I do like the way I look.”

“Me too, Maisie, me too.”

The barman quickly scanned the bar, then whispered, “Your guy’s right and he’s one lucky… man. Any… any chance you could give him another little kiss?”

I grinned, lost in lust, “You mean lean forward so that you get another view of my tits?”

“Yes, ma’am, I admit it.”

I looked into Matthew’s eyes, “Well?”

“Kiss me!”

It felt like the most daring thing I’d ever done. There was no pretence to hide behind that time. All three of us knew that if I kissed ‘Michael’ I would be deliberately displaying myself. Like I say, I was lost in lust. I leaned forward and kissed my boy hungrily.

I could almost feel the barman’s eyes roving over my bared breast and could certainly feel Matthew’s tongue intertwined with mine – coupled with the hunger that poured off him. It sent passion coursing along my veins and I could feel the dampness spread from my overheated pussy. When it got to the point of being almost too much, I broke this kiss and leaned back.

“Ma… Michael,” I managed, “I think I need to go change.”

“I’ll help,” he almost screamed.

“Shame,” Peter sighed.

I slipped from the stool and grabbed my wine glass, draining it and handing it back to the shell-shocked barman with a grin, “More later, maybe!”

Matthew’s now empty glass landed beside mine and he grabbed my hand before virtually running out of the room.

We were locked in a passionate embrace before our lift even arrived, and when it did we pretty much fell into the plush interior. We were still lip-locked when my son managed to find the button for the twelfth floor and he was sucking at my right nipple before we even got to the sixth.

“Did mummy do good?” I managed as the door pinged open on our corridor.

“You were perfect,” he muttered around my nipple as we staggered along towards our room.

“I loved doing that for you, for us!”

He switched breasts, pulling the dress down to my waist.

“Oh my baby! Oh Matthew! What if someone comes?”

He broke away from suckling at me for a moment and his right hand snaked up my thigh, cupping my panties, “Feels like you’re gonna be cumming real soon!”

“Inside the room before I lose it completely!” I hadn’t planned on becoming that aroused, I swear.

Matthew’s fingers squirmed against the wet material, “The room’s at least ten metres away, ma, and right around the corner. Not sure I can wait that long!”

“We can’t… oh fuck, Matty… we mustn’t…”

He dropped to his knees, tugging my panties down to my ankles as he went. My back crashed into the wall as his mouth found my moist lips.

“Oh fuck, baby! Can’t you wait?!”

He shook his head slowly from side to side and his tongue pressed through my soaking wet lips.

I know – I really know – I should have stopped him but you have to understand I was lost. I’d already bared my tit to a complete stranger – deliberately – and the game we were playing had been going on for so long… and I was just so excited. My breasts were bared now, my son was eating my soaking wet, hot pussy, drinking me down. I surrendered.

He knew me well enough by then. He could feel my compliance – and he was young and aroused.

Matthew sat back suddenly, his mouth leaving me, and he yanked my dress down. It fell to the floor and I lay back against the wall, completely exposed now, my hands pressing into the wallpaper. He paused long enough to drink in my nakedness, then dived back between my legs before I could start to beg him for it.

By then he knew what aroused me the most, but that day it could have been absolutely anything he did to me. His tongue was working overtime and small climaxes kept rippling through me, and I was shuddering through one such climax when the noise of a trolley approaching made me gasp, made my son sit back on his heels.

He whimpered when we realised it was coming from the direction we’d have to travel towards for our room and he looked up at me, aghast.

I knew then I was going to be seen out there. And I knew I didn’t care anymore.

“You don’t want to stop, do you?” I managed.

He shook his head.

“So don’t!”

He didn’t need a second offer, his teeth clattering against my pelvic bone as his tongue sought yje soft folds of my heat. I felt like such a glorious slut and that was without anyone knowing who Matthew really was.

I kept up a litany then ‘suck my cunt, suck my cunt’ and held my breath only when the trolley rounded the corner a few metres away. Matthew made to sit back but I grabbed his head, held him tight to my pussy.

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