My Mother’s Stockings

My Mother’s Stockings


When I was 18 I lived with my Mother in a small flat in Bexhill. She was 53 years old, tall, slim, and not an unattractive woman. She was, however, somewhat neurotic, and she kept me with her most of the time as ‘the only man I love’, as she used to put it. I was ambiguous about this situation. Part of me wanted to go out with my mates, meet some girls, and have a good time, and part of was … well frankly turned on by looking after my Mother.

Let me explain.

She had let herself go. She didn’t worry about what she wore or about being fully dressed. Much of the time she wore a dressing gown over her underwear, and she wasn’t too particular about making sure it was done up properly. Her underwear on the other hand was very ‘fifties’. Large pointed bra, large pants, and large suspenders and brown stockings. She also always wore high-heeled shoes.

The amount of times I had briefly glimpsed her stocking-tops had already given me a fetish about stockings. I always wanted to see more, and my ultimate fantasy was touching her legs and running my hands up her stockings to the firm white flesh above. Touching and fondling her breasts was the other fantasy of course.

As I said, she was neurotic, nervous and fussy. She took pills in the morning to wake her up and pills at night to make her sleep.

As time went on she took more and more pills to help her sleep. Sometimes she took these early and fell asleep on the sofa, and I would have to help her up and put her to bed. I have to say that I looked forward very much to such times. I would never worry about making sure her dressing gown was fastened, and it would always fall open when I helped her up and I would have a good gawk at her body and those wonderful stockings. Sometimes my hands would glance her breasts as I helped her into the bedroom, and once I even rested my hands on her stockinged legs as I helped her get into bed. Afterwards I would go to the bathroom and masturbate furiously, imagining myself groping her all over and even forcing her down on my cock. The thought of her sucking my cock always made me cum.

I remember that day when all my fantasies came true. It all started when she couldn’t remember if she had taken her pills or not for the night. I knew she had but I told her she hadn’t, so she took them again … plus an extra one I slipped in without her realising. About an hour later she was out for the count on the sofa, and I began to seriously think about touching her body, and maybe even undressing her. This night she was wearing a skirt and sweater over her normal underclothes.

My plan was simple: I would make like I was taking her to bed… I would pretend she had asked me to put her to bed. Obviously she would need to be undressed down to her bra and pants. She was too far gone to do it herself, or even know what was being done, so I would be able to feel her up as I took her clothes off. Any comebacks and I would just plead innocence, and tell her that she had made me undress her, and so on. If she complained I would turn it all back on her!

I waited another half an hour before I began. I started innocently enough.

“Come on Mum” I said, “time for bed”.

I shook her hard and she mumbled at me, but her eyes stayed closed. I shook her again, but still no response. So I lifted her under the arms and half-carried, half-dragged her into the bedroom. I made a point of not trying anything at this point, just in case.

By the time I got to the bedroom with her, however, it was clear she was deeply asleep, so I lifted her up and dropped her backwards on the bed. As I pushed her down to lay fully on the bed, her skirt rode up just revealing the tops of her brown stockings. I stood for a minute just staring at the dark brown area. I could feel myself getting hard at the sight. I could also feel my heart beginning to beat more quickly and my breath getting shorter at the prospect I was I was about to do.

I waited a moment longer, considering how to proceed without taking any risks. Then I went to the end of the bed and put my hands on her shoes, as if to remove them.

“Mum!”, I shouted. “Can you hear me?”


“I’m gonna undress you now, like you asked?”

Still nothing.

“Is that OK, Mum?”

I held her feet and pulled her down the bed an inch. No reaction, except that her dress rode up a fraction more.

“Mum! You sure you want me to do this?”, I almost shouted.

She began to snore slightly.

I smiled to myself and pulled her down the bed another six inches till her stockings were fully exposed and I could examine the flesh above.

“You want me to take off your stockings Mum”, I shouted.

No response.

I sat on the bed and ran my hands up her legs, brining them to rest on the tops of her stockings. I moved my hands as if to undo the suspenders, but I was really just feeling the material, and getting very excited. No reaction, so I pushed my hands down and around her legs, feeling and groping at her … openly now.

As I pushed one hand upwards slightly between her legs, she moaned momentarily and opened her legs a fraction. I froze and waited, but nothing else happened.

I gently pushed the hand up towards her cunt a tiny bit more, and exactly the same thing happened.

“Shit!’, I thought to myself. “She likes it … even in her sleep!”

I pushed my hand closer, till I was touching her gusset, but this time she just lay still. So I simply began to feel her cunt, laying my hands on it, and feeling the hairy layer underneath the pants.

As she was still and quiet now, I went for broke, and just started feeling her up properly. Running my hands up and down her legs and over her cunt and up between her legs. Eventually she groaned again and this time opened her legs wider, giving me room to feel her cunt opening, and even to slip my fingers inside the pants to touch the lips of her vagina.

I reached up to her skirt, released the catch, and pulled down the zip fastening. Then I grabbed the skirt and pulled it down over her legs, accidently-on-purpose catching her pants in my hand, and pulling them both away over her legs and shoes.

I turned back and looked at her hairy naked cunt, glistening slightly in the dim bedroom table-lamp. I fought and impulse to lower my face down and lick and kiss it.

“Not yet”, I said to myself, simply. First we gotta play with those tits!!

I sat on the bed again and pushed up her sweater over her bra. As I did so my hands ran over her large breasts. I left them there and looked in her face, lowering my head to her eyes.

“Mum?” I shouted again. “Are you really sure you want me to do this?”

But she just lay there motionless.

My hands were still holding the sweater but resting on her breasts, so I let go of the sweater and simply allowed my hands to cup her ample tits. Slowly I began to grope at them, feeling them, squeezing them gently.

My erection was raging by this time, and the simple friction of the material against my cock was bringing me to orgasm.

So I simply sat there, freely groping my own Mother’s breasts, and rubbing myself against her legs and the bed, until I came fiercely in my pants. My eyes rolled in my head, and I came and came and came till my trousers were soaked.


After I had cleaned myself up in the bathroom I returned to Mother. I felt certain that she was out for the count, so I didn’t bother to put on any clean trousers. She lay on the bed as I had left her, her legs wide apart and her cunt glistening above her stockinged legs, and her bra showing under her raised sweater.

I pulled her sweater off and undid the bra, throwing it on the floor. I played with her breasts again till I was hard. Then I slid myself across her chest sitting on her stomach, my cock sticking up virtually in her face. I played with myself with one hand whilst I groped at her tits with the other. I was so turned on I nearly came again almost immediately.

But instead I reached behind her head and lifted it up till her mouth was level with my cock. Then, forcing open her mouth, I gingerly insert my cock between her lips. Placing both hands behind her head I forced her mouth down on my cock, and proceed to start fucking her face!

As I felt my excitement growing I began to grind my hips and ram my cock deeper and deeper into her defenceless mouth. At the same time I started to whisper at her fiercely.

“Suck it you bitch! This is what Mummy wants isn’t it … this is what all Mummy’s want. To have their little boys fucking their mouth. You want my cum don’t you, you dirty fucking bitch. Well here it comes …”

And with that I rammed my cock deep into her throat and pumped my silver liquid milk into her face. I kept ramming and thrusting, forcing her head down and down till I was dry, and her mouth was full of my cum. Then I threw her head back on the pillow.

“Bitch!!” I shouted. “Fucking old bitch!”

As I got up I watched the milk dribbling out the corner of her mouth. On an impulse I reached over and closed her mouth, and began to massage her throat, encouraging her to swallow all my cum. She gurgled deeply for a moment and then her instincts took over and she swallowed deeply. As I sat there holding her head back I knew that I had abused and violated her, but all I wanted was to do more … to force upon her the ultimate violation.

She was naked now apart from the suspender belt and stockings, and these now became the focus of my attention. I gleefully caressed her legs rubbing hard and reaching my hands up closer and closer to her cunt. Suddenly I pushed her legs wide apart and crawled on top of her. Slipping her panties aside I roughly entered her. I was crazed with lust and I just fucked her as hard as I could with no thought whatsoever for her, and no concerns if she would awake.

“Bitch”, I whispered. “Fucking dirty cock-sucking bitch!”. I rammed home as hard as I could, keeping up my chanting.

“Bitch … fucking old hag bitch! Dirty fifthly stinking whore. Teach you I will, fucking teach you, you hideous old bitch!!”

And then with a roar of triumph I came for the third time filling her cunt with my cum!


Mother lay there on the bed, dressed only in her stockings, suspender belt and bra. The bra was pulled down revealing her large but still relatively pert breasts. On her face and around her mouth were traces of dried cum. Some white specks were also splattered in her hair. Her arms and legs were drawn wide apart, as if she were laying back inviting me to sexually molest her.

It was just before dawn and I had awoken from a sleep I never intended to take. Part of me was afraid that her sleeping pills would soon wear off and she would wake up and find herself in this state, and part of me wanted to fuck her again. To force my cock into her mouth once more and cum down her throat.

But in the end caution won out, and I started to clean her up. I got a cloth from the bathroom and washed the cum off her face and hair. I adjusted her bra so it contained her breasts again, although I did not miss the chance to fondle and grope them in the process. Likewise, as I pulled her panties back on and up her legs, I could not resist paying prolonged attention to her stockinged legs. Finally I pulled her sweater on and arranged her body as if she had simply been sleeping. I covered her up with the blanket, and turned off the light. Everything seemed to be innocent enough now. I slipped back to the spare room, climbed into bed and went to sleep.

I was woken about 11.30 am by Mother who came in with a cup of tea.

“Morning my dear”, she said gaily. “How are you this morning?”.

I yawned and sat up. “Fine thanks”.

“We both seem to have overslept. I can’t imagine why that happened. Still I feel so much better for a nice long sleep.”

“Yes … me too”, I muttered sleepily, although in reality I was eying her carefully to see if there was any reaction from what had happened.

She seemed normal enough, although I wasn’t entirely sure.

“You slept well then?”, I asked.

“Oh yes, my dear. I had some lovely dreams too”. She smiled as she said this, but something about the way she smiled set alarms bells ringing in my mind.

“Er … what did you dream about then?”, I asked. And then immediately regretted it.

“I dreamt about you”, she almost whispered. She sat down on the bed beside me and leaned over and kissed my hair. My good little boy, my best best boy.

I smiled weakly at her.

“You know”, she began “I can’t remember going to bed last night. I must have been really tired. Did I … did I get to bed alright. I wasn’t a pain … or anything. Was I?”.

“No mum … you were fine”.

“Oh, it’s just that my clothes were still on this morning. My stockings anyway. I usually take them off before I go to bed. I can’t remember ever going to bed with … my stockings and suspenders on”. She said these last words quietly and in a slightly seductive manner. It wasn’t obvious, but I felt myself harden at the way she said ‘stockings and suspenders’.

I didn’t say anything. I just looked at her.

“I must have been really zonked out last night. I think I must have dribbled because my pillow was damp this morning. Can’t think of anything else it could have been to make it so damp … can you?”

As she said these words she looked at me hard. It could have been my imagination by there seemed to be a slight grin playing around her lips.

My heart suddenly pounded inside me. Had she guessed?

Christ I had left cum on her pillow. She could have smelt it, it has a very distinctive odour. What could I say? Was she angry, had she really guessed or was she just fishing? God, if my own mother suspected me of cumming on her pillow she would go spare!

“Oh … yer”, I muttered weakly.

“The other odd thing is that I awoke with a strange taste in my mouth. Can’t remember having that taste … oh I don’t know … for years and years.”

“Oh …”, I whispered again, totally flummoxed.

Did she knew I had cum in her mouth? She must do! What was she going to say? What would she do?

“Have you been a naughty boy?”, she suddenly whispered at me. “A VERY naughty boy?”.

“What … “ I croaked.

“Have you been doing things to your poor mummy whilst she slept … dirty things?”. Again that slight mischievous smile around her mouth.

“No Mum … I haven’t done anything Mum … honest”. But I said it too quickly and with too much anxiety.

“I don’t think my little boy is being honest with mummy. I think you have been doing things to your mummy … whilst poor mummy was all asleep … and vulnerable and in your power. You took advantage of mummy … didn’t you?”.

“No mummy!” I wailed. “I didn’t do anything. I didn’t mummy I, I didn’t”.

“You’re lying to mummy. I can see it in your face. What did you do to mummy while she slept. What did my naughty naughty little boy do to his poor mummy. Tell me now … or mummy will get very cross.”.

But I couldn’t tell her of course. How could I say that I had forced my cock between her lips and fucked her mouth? That I had made her swallow my cum. I simply couldn’t.

“I … I don’t know what you mean mum. I didn’t do anything. I wouldn’t hurt you mummy”.

“I’m not saying you hurt mummy. But I think did took advantage of mummy’s state … that mummy was sleeping deeply. I think … I think you TOUCHED mummy … where a little boy should never touch his own mummy. And maybe you did something even worse. Tell mummy … tell mummy what you did with your ‘dirty little man’. I know you did something.”.

I looked at her in silence, too afraid to say anything.

“Where did you put your little man? Why can mummy taste your little man’s milk … in her MOUTH!”. She said the last word loudly and in an accusing Hiss.

Still I said nothing. My heart was beating frantically and I was desperately searching for some way of escape from her words. Even through the fear though I could not help noting in some part of my mind that she knew what ‘a little man’s milk’ tasted like! Had she tried it before?

We looked at each other in silence for some time. Then she leant down so that her face was just a few inches from mine and she hissed at me again.

“DIRTY DIRTY little boy! You took out your WILLY and you rubbed it till it was hard, and you forced it into poor mummy’s mouth … didn’t you!”.

“No mummy …”.

“Then you pushed it in and out of mummy’s mouth till you spunked! And THEN you filled you poor poor mummy’s mouth with your creamy spunk!”.

“Oh no mummy I wouldn’t do any …”

“Then you rubbed it in mummy’s face! Didn’t you!!”.

“No … no I didn’t mummy!”.

“Liar!” She shouted at me. “And then what did you do? Did you make mummy SWALLOW all your dirty creamy spunky cum? Did you? Horrid, foul, dirty, incestuous little boy! What a terrible thing to do to your poor weak defenceless mummy!”.

Softly I began to cry.

“Oh, sorry now are you? Sorry now mummy has found out? And if mummy had not said anything, would you have done the same tonight. Use you mummy’s mouth for all your dirty sordid pleasure. You would have wouldn’t you! You would have FUCKED your poor mummy’s MOUTH again. Filthy little boy. Filthy dirty little boy!”.

Even though I was crying there was a part of me starting to get excited at her words, because I could tell from the way she said some of them that she was ‘tasting’ them, as if she were getting excited herself by what she was saying. Slowly and dimly I began to wonder exactly where she was going with this conversation. Was she really angry or was she … no surely not … was she actually turned on by what I had done?

No, not MY mother. Surely not!

Taking my courage in both hands I whispered “Sorry mummy. I’m sorry …”.

“Ah, so you admit it?” That strange smiled returned to her face.

“Yes” I said so softly she had to lean forward to catch the word.

“Hmm, so what am I going to do with you now”?

I looked at her inquiringly.

“Tell me EXACTLY what you did”, she said. “Everything … leave nothing out”.

I gulped, but said nothing.

“What you did was incestuous, and incest is against the law, apart from anything else … apart from the perverted shame you bring upon us both. Now tell me every single thing in ALL it’s detail. You don’t want me to call the police do you … and tell them you raped and abused you own mummy/”.

“No mummy”, I said quickly. “You won’t do that would you? Not really …?”.

“Hmm!”, she mused quietly. “If you don’t do EXACTLY what mummy tells you. Exactly what mummy wants, then …”. She left the sentence unfinished.

It seemed like a threat but that was not the impression I was getting. Rather i felt that she was merely establishing her power over me. Making sure that I would obey her without question.

I responded accordingly.

“I will do whatever my mummy says”, I said. “I have been a very naughty boy.”

She smiled broadly at these words, confirming my suspicions

“Oh yes, you certainly have been a very very naughty boy. Mummy will have to think carefully of how she must punish you for your FILTHY behaviour. But in the meantime you must be totally obedient. You understand?”.

Indeed I did. I whispered “yes mummy … whatever you say. I will do whatever you want without question”.

“Good. Now tell me everything you did as I asked. I want to hear all the perverted filthy details of what this foul little boy did to his poor weak sleeping mummy! Tell me EVERYTHING”.

And so I did. I told her slowly and in great detail all that I have written above. I started by speaking carefully, but as I watched the fire of lust growing in her eyes I began to emphasize and dwell on the most filthy aspects. Like how I forced her to swallow all my cum, and how I licked all the rest up from around her mouth.

When I had finished she sat silent for a while musing on all I had said.

“So”, she said thoughtfully, “it was mummy’s stockings that first turned you on was it?”.

“Yes mummy … I liked seeing your stockings”.

“I see … so you have developed a fetish for my stockings and suspenders, have you not? A compulsion, a need to see them and touch them … and FONDLE and GROPE them … until your sexual lust is satisfied. Is that not the case?”.

“Yes mummy … I suppose it is. I’m sorry”.

“Oh my poor baby … don’t be sorry. It is not your fault. It is mummy’s fault for allowing you to see her stockings and suspenders. For revealing too much of mummy’s stockinged legs, for making her baby NEED to see and touch her stockings. Never mind baby … mummy will look after you … ”.

My eyes must have lit up as I looked at her, for she smiled knowingly at me and patted my hand.

“Yes baby, mummy will make sure that you don’t ever need to do terrible things again to mummy … not without her permission that is”, she ended with a gentle whisper.

“I AM sorry mummy”, I said gently. “I don’t know why I did it. I have never done anything like that before. I guess I was so attracted to you …”.

I looked nervously up at her, still not entirely sure of the situation.

But she just smiled back at me, and reached down to kiss me and cuddle me to her breast.

“What a poor frustrated little boy you are”, she whispered in my ear. “I can see mummy will have to do all sorts of dirty things just to keep you happy. I suppose mummy will have to wear all sorts of stockings and high heels. Black seamed stocking and white suspenders and short skirts I think might do the trick”.

“Oh yes.”, I whispered enthusiastically.

“But this time mummy wants to be wide awake when you touch her and grope her stockings … and when your dirty little man spits all that white creamy stuff in her mouth!”.


After giving me a quick kiss, and briefly brushing my now hard cock, she went back into the kitchen to prepare breakfast. I lay back in my bed touching myself and wondering just what I had started. Rather than being punished for abusing my mother, it seemed I was about to be rewarded. And not only was she going to make my dirty dreams come true, but her own as well!

For much of the rest of the day nothing further was said. The housework was done, Mother went shopping and I sat in the lounge watching TV.

When she came back she had several bags that were clearly from a lingerie shop. I smiled at her but did not remark about the bags. I guess my smile betrayed some of the excitement I was feeling at the prospect of her in new and exotic underwear.

“I have treated myself to one or two new items … to cheer us both up”, she said matter-of-factly. Then she leaned over towards where I was sitting and whispered meaningfully, “My stockings are old and worn, and I thought I needed an entire new wardrobe of stockings and suspenders. Although, of course, mummy can’t show her little boy her stockings, now can she? That would be very naughty and inappropriate. Oh no, a good mother can never do that”.

I must have looked crestfallen because she added, “… not unless her little boy is very very good. Then maybe she could give him a special treat every now and then. Just to say ‘thank you’. It would be a very naughty thing to do though, and her little boy would have to promise never to tell anyone. They might think that mummy was encouraging her little boy to think dirty incestuous thoughts. That mummy might actually want him to lust after her old body, and that wouldn’t be very good. Poor mummy might get into trouble.”

“Oh I’d never tell anyone … not if you let me look at your stockings mummy, never!”.

“What a good boy you are. Mummy just might do that … maybe. Now I must go and put all my new things away.”

She went into the bedroom humming gaily to herself, and I could hear her turning all her old draws out and unpacking all the bags of underwear she had bought.

After dinner we both sat and watched a film on TV. Although I kept a close eye on her nothing seemed to change and I began to wonder if I was making too much of the vague things she had said earlier.

I had been hard most of the day, with all sorts of erotic imaginings filling my head. I had expected her to dress up immediately she came back from shopping, and let me have a look … and maybe even a grope. But if anything she was more prim and proper than ever. She made sure that her clothing was appropriate and that nothing was revealed that should not be. After a while I became very turned on by the sheer contrast between what she had implied and what was happening. It made the idea of what might happen seem even more filthy and exciting that what I had done to her the previous night.

When the film ended she turned to me and started to explain about these ‘new’ sleeping pills she had just been given. At first I hardly listened but then I suddenly realised that what she was saying was very very important and I became all ears!

“So you see my dear I have to be very careful with these pills because they are so special. If I don’t go straight to bed after I have taken them, then they apparently have a very strange effect on the person who takes them”.

“And what’s that mummy?”, I asked curiously.

“Well the doctor told me that within half an hour they make you into a Zombie … like a slave. That you will do anything anybody tells you to do. Isn’t that awful?”.

I looked at her wondering if I was hearing this aright.

“OH!”, I muttered. “Is that right?”.

“Yes dear, that’s what the doctor said. And you can only take these pills when you are somewhere safe or with someone you trust. Because if anyone took advantage of you, they could make you do ANYTHING they wanted, and you would be willing and co-operative.”

“Goodness!”, I said, still not believing my ears.

“And do you know the worse part?”.

“No mummy, what is the worse part?”.

“The worse part is that in the morning you would remember nothing about it. Indeed the pills make you feel so well that whatever a nasty person might do to you, or make you do for them, you would still be so well in the morning that not only would you not remember but you wouldn’t care either!”.

“Oh dear …”, I whispered, having no clear idea what I should be saying to this obvious setup.

“It is terrible isn’t it dear! I am so glad that I will only be taking them when I am with my good little boy who wouldn’t let anything happen to mummy, would he?”.

“No mummy, of course not”.

“Well I really need these pills to help me sleep well, you see. And that is more important than anything. And …”.

“And what mummy?”, I prompted as she paused for a moment.

She looked at me strangely, almost conspiratorially. There was a strange smile on her lips and a very odd look in her eyes.

“Well … you see I HAVE to have these pills, and if my little baby … hmm … well if he takes advantage of mummy when she has taken then … well there is not a lot mummy can do, is there?”

I looked at her, not sure how to reply.

“Mummy’s baby would keep her safe wouldn’t he?”

“Of course mummy … I would not let anything happen to you.” I said this in as careful and as measured a way as I could.

“I know you wouldn’t my dear boy, I know you would never let anything happen to mummy. So … well if while mummy is ‘in your power’, so to speak, when she has taken these pills, well if you take advantage of mummy or …”, her voice when very low, “ do anything to her. Well then mummy will never know so as long as she isn’t hurt, will she?”.

“I won’t hurt mummy, I promise. I might get mummy to make me a cup of tea though … or something. Mummy wouldn’t mind that would she?”.

“Oh my poor little baby, if when mummy has taken those pills you make her do something for you … anything at all … mummy won’t mind! Of course not.

She leaned over and kissed my cheek. Then she whispered in my ear.

“I know what my baby really wants mummy to do for him. Mummy knows, mummies always know!”. She nibbled at my ear as she said this.

“What?” I asked as innocently as I could.

“You’ll make mummy show you her stockings and suspenders, won’t you? You naughty little boy! You dirty little boy!”.

I just grinned at her and said nothing.

“I thought so. Oh well, if that is the price that mummy must pay to make sure her new pills work properly, then so be it! Mummy does not mind you doing anything you want … no, mummy does not mind”.

And with that all-embracing statement, theoretically giving me her full permission to do whatever I wanted to her, she stood up and went into the kitchen.

I sat and thought carefully for a moment about what had just happened. Was she really giving me permission to use her body in any way I wanted? But to do it when she was awake so she could enjoy it to! More subtly, was she also cleverly taking away any responsibility for what was happening? It was all up to me apparently, to do as little or as much as I liked. But then I didn’t mind that. The terms she had given me meant I could do whatever I wanted, and she would have to go along with it. I found I was getting very excited just thinking about it. I intended to keep the game going though … and to make the most of it all!


That evening nothing further was said until about 9 o’clock when Mother indicated that she was going to take her new pills. She went to the kitchen, made us both some tea, and when she came back she explained that she had taken her pills and would shortly ‘get changed’. Normally about this time of night she would exchange her day clothes for a dressing gown and relax on the sofa until she went to bed. After drinking her tea, however, she made no immediate move to get changed.

Some 20 minutes passed and we sat watching TV. I was uncertain how exactly to proceed but I knew I could do nothing until the pills ‘worked’, whatever that meant in reality.

Suddenly Mother said that she felt strange.

“What’s the matter?”, I asked.

“Oh dear”, she said. “I feel very odd. So relaxed … almost like I was being hypnotised”.

“I see”, I whispered softly.

“I suppose I better get changed now before I loose my own will entirely”, she muttered almost to herself.

She stood up and walked slowly towards the bedroom. As she reached the hall door she stopped and stood there silently.

“Oh”, she murmured. “Where am I going? What am I doing?”

“You’re going to the bedroom mummy”, I whispered. “To get changed …”.

“What am I going to wear?”, she said in a dreamy voice.

For a moment I did not answer, unsure if the time was yet right for me to take control of her.

“You’re going to put on something more comfortable”, I ventured.

“What should I wear then?”, she asked, her voice now sounding entirely toneless.

“Don’t you know mummy?”. I was still reluctant to say too much.

“No my dear. You must tell mummy what to wear.”

“What about trying on some of you new lingerie”, I suggested tentatively.

“Yes dear”. she replied simply, and walked on again towards her bedroom.

She was gone some ten to 15 minutes. When she finally returned I looked at her in amazement.

She was wearing only lingerie … and nothing else. She wore a white, low cut bra, matching white panties and a broad white suspender belt. On her legs were black seamed fully-fashioned stockings, and on her feet a pair of black evening shoes with slim stiletto heels. Even though she was my mother she still looked like something out of a lingerie catalogue or a men’s magazine.

My mouth dropped open and I whistled softly.

“Oh mummy”, I whispered. “You look wonderful”.

“Thank you dear”, she said almost mechanically, standing still in the centre of the room and not looking at me.

I waited to see what would happen, but she just stood there.

“Aren’t you going to sit down Mummy?”, I asked softly.

She seemed confused by the question.

“is that your command?” she said at length.

“Can you only do what you are commanded?”, I asked

“I must do whatever I am told”, she replied. “And I only want to do exactly what I am told to do”.

“Lift you left arm in the air”, I said after a moment’s thought.

She did exactly as commanded.

“OK, let it back down now”.

It fell back to her side.

“Do you love your little boy?” I asked, still not quite having the courage to force things through.

“If I am commanded”, she replied.

Finally I took the plunge. “Then I command you to show your little boy how much you love him. Come here and offer him your stockings to feel”.

She moved over and stood in front of me, the tops of her stockinged legs level with my eyes. Moving her hands to her stockings, she began to rub them gently. At the same time she lightly rubbed her legs together, making her stockings release that wonderful sound of nylon-on-nylon.

“Does baby want to touch mummy’s stockings?”, she whispered seductively.

“Oh yes mummy … oh yes!”.

I placed my hands on her stockinged legs and just sat there feeling the material, running my hands up and down the stockings.

She swayed in towards me, until her mount pressed against my face and lips. Gently I nuzzled at it with my teeth, at the same time sliding my hands up to her firm buttocks.

Suddenly I pulled her tight to my mouth, groping and squeezing her bottom and licking madly around her cunt, and up and down that magic area above the stocking tops. She placed my hands behind her head and pressed it even tighter to her cunt. My hands slipped around her white panties and dragged them down her legs to the floor. She stepped out of them.

“Talk dirty to me Mummy”, I whispered as my tongue snaked out towards her fur-covered clit.

“As you command my baby boy”, she replied breathlessly, rubbing her by now wet cunt on my face and mouth.

“What a dirty boy you are, feeling and groping at mummy’s stockings. Forcing you mouth and tongue into poor mummy’s cunt. Using you poor mummy, abusing your poor mummy. You dirty dirty little boy. You mother-fucker you. You filthy dirty little shit-eating cunt-sucking mother-fucker!”.

“Get on your knees you BITCH!” I said suddenly. “It’s time I showed you what mummy’s are really made for!”.

She sank to her knees immediately.

I whispered softly in her ear.

“A proper mummy would never let her baby do these things without some resistance, would she?”

“No dear”, she replied.

“And you’re a proper mummy, aren’t you?”.

“Yes dear”.

“Then behave like one!”.

In response to my command she seemed to suddenly come to life.

“Oh … ooh!” she wailed. “What are you making your poor mummy do?”

“I’m making you suck my cock, you dirty Bitch!”.

“Noo! Mummy mustn’t do that!. It’s dirty, filthy, disgusting. Mummy can’t do that with her baby!”.

“Oh yes you can”, I hissed, and I pulled her head, already placed conveniently at the level of my flies, towards my crotch.

She made little resistance, but she kept up her feeble wailing and complaining.

“No, no, I mustn’t do that. Mummy’s must not even let their baby’s touch them in that way! Not in a dirty way. They cannot let their little boys do dirty things to them … they cannot!”.

I unzipped my fly and ejected my hard cock from it’s home in my pants. It stuck up erect and firm just inches from Mother’s face.

She stared at it in apparent horror.

“What are you doing baby? Why have you got that big hard, dirty thing, out?”.

“Cos I’m gonna stick this dirty thing in your mouth mummy … and you’re gonna suck it for me”.

“No, please, please, don’t make your poor mummy do that!!” she shrieked.

I took hold of my cock and touched it to her lips. Pre-cum was leaking out the end and it stuck in thin strands between her slightly open lips. I put my other hand behind her head and gently pressed it forward.

“Open your mouth mummy”, I whispered softly.

“Please don’t!”, she begged, but her lips parted slowly. “Don’t use and humiliate your mummy. Don’t put that dirty filthy thing in my poor mouth”.

“You are going to suck it mummy, and I am going to fuck your face your filthy old slut!”.

“Oh, Lord help me”, she screamed. “I am being abused. My own baby boy is raping his mummy’s mouth. Help, help! Rape! You are raping me!”.

I hesitated for a moment surprised by the words and the terror in her voice.

But she just looked up at me with those big sad eyes and said.

“Don’t cum in mummy’s mouth. Please don’t fill my mouth with all that sticky dirty white spunk! Please, I will do anything else you want … but not that!”.

“Sorry”, I replied. “I’m gonna fuck your face, you old Bitch! I’m gonna fill your mouth with my cum, and you’re gonna swallow it all … and suck my cock till it’s clean again”.

“No … oh no!”.

“You’d rather I fuck your arse!”. I hissed.

“No”, she whispered in a defeated voice. “”No I don’t want that either”.

“Them open your mouth … NOW!”.

Her lips parted slowly and I forced my cock deep in her mouth. At the same time I pulled her head towards me hard and rough so my cock penetrated right to the back of her throat.

She gagged, but I ignored it and began thrusting my hips and fucking her mouth as hard as I could.

With her mouth full of my cock she said nothing more. She tried half-heartedly to pull back, but I held her head fast, and just kept plunging my cock deeper down her throat.

“Suck it bitch!”, I shouted. “Suck your little boy’ s cock. Mummy’s are the best cock-suckers in the world. Mummy’s were made to suck their baby’s cock. Now give me the best blow job I ever had my fucking dirty little mummy-bitch!”.

And she did.

Her mouth and tongue came to life, and suddenly although I was forcing myself into her mouth, the situation changed almost beyond recognition. Her mouth went from a ragged wet hole to a soft velvet purse that embraced and worshipped my cock. Her tongue rapped itself around my tool and joined in the worship. She was a master at cock-sucking, and within only a few seconds my feelings changed from unbridled lust to a warm love that was based entirely on the new sensations she was generating.

“Oh Mummy”, I cried. “Oh Mummy … I love you so much!”.

I was pushing myself deep in her mouth, but it was no longer a rape scene. I held her head in my hand and worked it back and forward onto my tool, but there was rhythm now that she had developed almost by magic, and it felt as if her head were under my control, like an extension of my own hands. The velvet softness of her mouth and her tongue complimented the movement, and the new sensations I was experiencing were both amazing and a total surprise to me.

I came even before I realised what was happening.

“Mummy!” I shouted emotionally, as my cock ejected it’s milk into her mouth and throat. “Oh mummy, that’s wonder-der-ful …”.

It was the most glorious orgasm I had ever experienced. Not because of the situation, or because I was raping her mouth, but because the feelings she had somehow generated with the way she had loved my cock. She made it feel as if I were her lover. Her deep, intimate, and natural lover.

It blew my mind.

My flaccid penis fell from her mouth and I lay back in the chair. She looked up at me with big soft eyes and smiled, cum still leaking from her lips and on to her chin.

“Is baby happy with mummy?” she asked gently.

“Oh yes mummy”, I replied. “Baby is in heaven!”.

“Should mummy do it again for baby?”

“Oh yes mummy … oh yes.”


Contrary to my expectations I did not end up in her bed that night. I was exhausted after two marvellous blow-jobs, and lay back on the sofa and dozed for a while. When I woke up she had gone to bed, and I did not think it appropriate to follow her.

The next day it was as if nothing had happened. The only sign that anything was different was her smarter dress sense and the fact that she seemed to be wearing new seamed-stockings and shoes with a higher heel.

That day was Monday and I went off to college in Bexhill. When I returned at 5pm she had made me a meal, and she chatted cheerfully about all sorts of things, and nothing in particular.

I confess I was hard as soon as I entered, dreaming about what the coming night would bring and eyeing those seams with a hungry look. I could not stop thinking about running my hands up and down her stockings … or about fucking her face as hard as I could!

As we ate our meal in silence at the kitchen table, I mused over possible scenarios for that evening. I assumed she would take her ‘pills’ again, and then be looking to me to ‘instruct’ her as to what to do. After last night I no longer felt any reticence in going for exactly what I fancied. I supposed that eventually she would want me to fuck her cunt, after all she must want some pleasure for herself, but for the time being I intended to do nothing but satisfy my own perverted and incestuous desires. I still wanted that wonderful velvet mouth around my prick, but I also wanted to force myself on her … to humiliate and brutalise her. I wanted to forcefully rape and fuck her face and mouth, and tonight I would see just how far she would let me go. I would save her cunt and her arse for another night. I looked at my watch, and mentally calculated how long it would be till the game was afoot.

Shrewd as ever, she noticed me looking, and interpreted the expression on my face. As always, however, she played the game exactly as she so obviously wanted it.

“Are you going somewhere my dear”, she asked innocently across the table.

“No Mum,” I replied with the same air of normality, “I was just wondering what to do tonight?”.

“Oh”, she said in mock distress. “Mummy was hoping you would keep her company tonight. Still, I suppose you must get bored with only an old woman for company?”.

“Don’t be silly mummy, I love being with you”.

“Thank you dear,” she said with a smile. “You are such a good boy. Mummy’s best boy, Mummy’s most wonderful boy. If there were only something I could do to repay you”.

As always it took me a moment to see where she was going with her words. Then I realised that she thought I was getting bored with waiting for the evening’s ‘entertainment’, and needed a little taster just to keep me interested. Well, I had no problem with that!

“It’s ok Mummy, you don’t need to do anything for me,” I said, wondering what she would offer.

“Oh but my Darling I do!” she answered. “You are so good to me, and you are always here for me. A good mummy should do something to reward her little boy for sticking by his mummy.”

I just looked at her and smiled innocently.

“But what can a nice mummy do for her little boy? What do little boy’s like … that their mummy’s can give them? “.

She seemed to muse for a moment.

“Now, what does my little baby like? Oh yes, I remember. My poor little boy likes to see his mummy’s stockings and suspenders … doesn’t he?”.

“But that’s naughty Mummy”, I whispered. “Isn’t it?”.

Her voice dropped very low. “Yes Baby, that is very naughty. A nice proper mummy should never let her good little baby see anything so naughty as his mummy in her suspenders and seamed-stockings. She should never raise her skirt for him, or take her skirt off in front of her little boy … or even,” and here her voiced dropped even lower, “let him rest his hands on her stocking-tops. Oh no, a proper mummy should never do that”.

I tried as hard as I could to look very disappointed.

“But what can I do,” she continued sadly. “I want to do something for my baby. And if that something, well … stretches the proper relationship between a mummy and her baby boy … then I suppose it doesn’t matter too much. Not as long as nobody else knows about it”.

“I won’t tell anyone I said,” very quickly.

“Well …,” she seemed uncertain. Unsure if she were doing the right thing.

She was a great actor.

“Oh PLEASE Mummy”, I ventured, suddenly realising that I had a part to play in this act. “Please let baby see … your stockings … please?”.

“But it is so naughty!”, she said looking shyly downwards, and I realised that she wanted to play this game as far as she could.

“I know it is naughty Mummy, but baby would be forever grateful to his mummy if she did that for him. Baby loves Mummy’s stockings. He loves to see her legs encased in sheer nylons. It makes baby feel very … special”.

She looked up with shining eyes.

“Does it make baby feel good?”.

“Oh yes Mummy, it does make baby feel so good!”.

“Hmm …” she mused again, as if torn between the desire to please her son and the desire to be a prim and proper mother.

“Well,” she said at length. “Maybe just a peek wouldn’t hurt”.

She stood up from the table and took my hand.

“Come with Mummy into the lounge,” she said gently.

She sat me down on the sofa and stood in front of me looking slightly embarrassed.

“Oh dear,” she murmured. “This is so very naughty”.

She reached down and took hold of the front of her skirt and lifted it up slowly just to the point where heavy black line of her stocking-tops was visible.

“Nice Mummy!”, I said, as if in awe.

I waited for her to lift the skirt higher but she just stood there.

“A little higher Mummy?”, I suggested.

For a brief moment she lifted the skirt clear of the tops of her stockings, but then she let it fall suddenly.

“NO, baby”, she said firmly. “Mummy mustn’t let baby see anymore. It is just too dirty, too wrong. You are my little boy, and you must not become excited by your own Mother’s body. It is wrong. It is INCEST!”

“Sorry Mummy”, I said.

“And so you should be!”, she said in a sudden, and to me unexpected, angry tone. “It is very dirty wanting to look at my stockings. How could you think such a thing. And it would just be the beginning. Next you would want me to take off my clothes for you. Then you would want me to let you touch my body … feel my breasts and squeeze my nipples. Before long you would be wanting me to play with your dirty little man. Goodness knows where it would go from there! Maybe even to something so dirty and filthy it should not even be thought about … using my mouth to fulfil your filthy dirty incestuous desires. Filling my mouth with you stinking. thick. creamy …”.

She stopped suddenly, as if realising that she had got carried away.

“Mummy!”, I said weakly. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I am sorry. I really am”.

She was breathing deeply. She seemed to have got herself very excited. I suppose I expected her to revert to her previous meek and mild self. Admonishing me gently maybe, but without any real desire to prevent my actions.

But I was wrong. She suddenly slapped my face, and hissed at me, “Filthy little boy! Dirty disgusting little brat!”.

I was genuinely shocked; it all seemed so real. I just looked at her from a moment in surprise, my face stinging from her non-too-gentle assault.

She drew herself up straight, her breasts thrusting outwards.

“Well you dirty little SHIT, I think mummy is going to have to punish you for you filthy thoughts!”.

And then I realised that this too was just part of her game. Foolishly I had believed that I was the master of this little game she had started to play with me. I had thought that she was simply letting me take my pleasure however I liked, that maybe she was just glad of the attention. Now I realised that this was stupid. Yes, she was letting me do whatever I wanted to her, but it was her game, and she was expecting payment from me for what she was giving me. I was fulfilling my lust on her. It was perhaps not unreasonable for her to expect me to fulfil her fantasies too. And if her unquestioning compliance was the road to my fulfilment, then my unquestioning compliance was likely to be the road to hers. I wasn’t stupid, you know. And I guess that she knew and counted on that.

“Don’t hit me mummy”, I wailed. And I knew from the flicker of that old smile on her lips that I was playing my part aright.

She placed her hands on her hips and pushed her face close in to mine.

“I will do whatever I want with you. If you LUST after your poor Mother’s body, then you should not be surprised if your mummy get’s cross and punishes you for it!”.

“Please don’t hurt me mummy”.

“And what will you do if I do Hurt you? Eh? Cry I suppose?”, she said with excessive venom.

I thought for a moment, assessing my part. Then I said softly, “Don’t push me too far mummy”.

She smiled lustfully again.

“Oh yes, and what can you do if mummy decides to beat you?”

She thrust her chest out again, close to my face, and I knew exactly what I would do … what I should do … teach the bitch a lesson she would not forget!

“I will defend myself Mummy. I will not let you do anything unfair or unjustified too me”.

“Unfair!? Unjustified!? What rubbish!”, she hissed. “You fantasise about your own Mother’s underwear … about her lingerie. You ask to ogle and touch her stockings and suspenders! You lust after her body! How can you call poor mummy unfair, when she tries only to defend herself from your incestuous advances!”.

“If you remember mummy, it was your idea to let me see your stockings!”.

She looked at me in mock fury.

“LIAR!”, she screamed, and began slapping me and hitting me around the face and head.

I grabbed at her arms, and after a moment held them firmly above her head. Her chest was heaving madly and she was flushed with excitement.

“Let me go you filthy little boy! Take your hands off your mummy!”.

I swivelled her hands behind her back, bringing her face close to mine.

“Now stop this foolishness,” I said. “Or I may start to get excited myself, and then …”.

“Then what!?”, she said quickly through her teeth.

“Well for a start you’ll probably loose your clothes,” I whispered, smiling.

She struggled wildly against me for a moment. “Filthy boy! How dare you talk about stripping your poor mummy of her clothes. What then? Will you RAPE your own Mother!?”.

I looked at her with lust in my eyes. “Sounds good to me, “ I grinned.

“Ooooh!” she wailed. “No. No, please don’t do that to your poor Mummy”.

But she continued struggling till the blouse she was wearing started to burst open in the fight. I looked down at her breasts, and holding both her hands behind her in one hand, I grabbed the blouse and tore it from her breasts. Then taking her right breast firmly in my hand, I pulled her tight to me until her lips were almost touching mine.

I looked in her eyes and said simply, “I think it’s time I fucked your cunt you old Bitch!”.

Mock terror spread across her face. “No baby, Please baby. Don’t do that to your Mummy … please!”.

I, of course, ignored her words and dragged her screaming to the bedroom.

I threw her on the bed.

“Now,” I said firmly. “We can do this one of two ways. The first way is that you lie still there and co-operate …”.

Still wailing in apparent terror, she scrambled up from the bed and made a bolt for the door. I grabbed her arm, swung her around, and slapped her face. Then I threw her violently back on the bed.

“That’s the second way”, I said coldly. “The rough way …”

As she scrambled up again from where I had thrown her, it became crystal clear to me that it was indeed the second way she wanted.

So I slapped her again, only much harder this time. She fell back on the floor moaning and crying.

“Oh please baby, don’t fuck mummy’s cunt!”, she groaned. “Not that, anything but that!”.

“On your knees, Bitch!”, I hissed. “Here … in front of me!”.

She crawled, crying softly, over to me and kneeled down in front of me. Her face was level with my cock.

“So you don’t want me to fuck your hairy old cunt then! Mummy’s cunt too good for her little boy’s cock?”.

“No Baby, but poor mummy’s cunt is the most dirty place for a little boy’s willy to go … you must not do it. Mummy will do anything … but that!”.

So that was what she really wanted, to be raped and penetrated by her own son. I guess I could oblige that, but first I would have some fun of my own.

“OK Mummy, I won’t do that at the moment, but I have a hard cock her that needs some help to feel better”, and I took my cock out and jutted it in her face. “What did you have in mind?”.

She reached up to touch my cock and rubbed it gently.

“Mummy do this for you, baby?”.

“I laughed. “No, mummy, I want a bit more than that! I can wank anytime I want without your help!”.

“Oh you dirty boy!”, she sighed. “You don’t play with yourself do you, not really?”.

“Shut the fuck up you stupid old bitch!”, I shouted at her. “Open you mouth and suck my cock … NOW!”.

She looked up at me in horror. “Nooo!”, she wailed. “What are you saying? You want your own Mother to take you filthy big willy in her mouth? How can you ask that. It is a dirty filthy thing to ask your poor mummy to do!”.

“So I’ll fuck your cunt then, you old slut?”.

“No … no, I will do what you ask. But, please, do not do anything in my mouth”.

I looked down at her mercilessly. “Fuck or suck, Bitch! Which is it? I gotta cum somewhere. Cunt or mouth?”

Reluctantly she directed my cock towards her parted lips. I grabbed her head and forced it down on my cock. Grinding my hips, I started to fuck her mouth as hard and as deep as I could.

“That’s nice my dear old mummy-slut. Make your mouth into a nice soft velvet cunt! Cocksucking old bitch!.”

For a while I forced my cock deep into her mouth. I was rough, brutal even. She spluttered and gurgled in her throat, occasionally struggling even to breath.

Then suddenly I grabbed her hair and threw her head back.

“No!”, I shouted. “I want your cunt. I want to fuck my own Mother’s filthy wet snatch!

I threw her back onto the bed and proceeded to rip from her every shred of clothing left on her body. I even tore off her suspender belt and stockings.

“No lie back mother … and open your legs for your little baby’s cock.”

She was flushed and breathless.

“No baby”, she whispered. “Don’t do that … please … not to mummy.”

I raised my fist in front of her face, and spoke slowly and deliberately.

“I said open your legs … BITCH!”

Turning her head from side to side on the bed, she wailed softly, “oh no … no.”

But she drew her legs widely apart revealing to soft pink lips of her vagina.

Somehow, probably instinctively, I knew that she was revelling in the vulnerability of this moment. Her own son was going to do to her what she wanted him to do, but it was not her fault, and nothing she could do would stop him. It was a kind of ultimate freedom … to get what you want, what you new was terribly wrong, but without the cost of responsibility.

I paused momentarily to let her enjoy this moment to its fullest degree.

As I watched her I saw that she was entirely involved in her own fantasy. She wasn’t looking at me … I’m not even sure if she really knew I was there in the flesh (so to speak). Her arms were up above her head. Her head was moving from left to right and back again, and her legs were drawn as far apart as she could comfortable pull them. She was muttering to herself in her throat.

I leaned forward to try to make out the words.

“Poor mummy … poor mummy”, she whispered to herself. “Raped, abused, violated … FUCKED by my own little boy. Oh dear … oh dear”.

And then I joined her fantasy.

I lay on top of her and gently pushed my hard member into that most sacred of places. My hand slid up her arms as I did so, pinning her to the bed.

“I’m gonna fuck you mummy”, I breathed in to her ear.

As I entered she let out a long soft cry, somewhere between a sigh of contentment and the release of an orgasm.

“Oh BABY!”, she murmured. “Oh yes my baby … fuck your mummy. Fuck her deep, fuck her good. Punish mummy, abuse mummy … do whatever you must to poor poor mummy.”

So I did.

I started gentle … till she was writhing and screaming in the ecstasy of what was happening … and then I fucked her as hard and as brutally as I new how. Within moments she climaxed both noisily and dramatically, her body stretching, becoming rigid and locked.

Then she collapsed backwards into the bed, her arms encircling me and holding me tight.

“Oh my beautiful baby”, she moaned gently. “My beautiful, beautiful baby.”

I could have easily continued to my own climax, but I stopped and simply held her. This was her turn and I gave her only what she wanted. I knew full well that I had had my turn, and that it would come again soon, and she would devote herself entirely at that moment to my pleasure. More subtly, I also knew that the more unselfish pleasure I gave to her, the more she would return to me. I also knew that she would always wear her stockings and suspenders now … and that I could see and touch them whenever I wanted.

As I held her gently I realised that the future with Mother seemed promising, to say the least, and that we shared something that was both special and unique. For the first time I kissed her lips, softly and sweetly …, like the lover I was.


Bookmark (0)