“Alex. Wake up sleepy head,” I said as I drew the shades open and tried to nudge my son to consciousness, “or you’re going to be late.”
His rubbed his eyes as he sat up stretching. “Ok, ok, ” he barked in and annoyed fashion.
“Don’t take that tone with me mister,” I replied. “What if I were on the road today? You’d be late for school.”
He stopped rubbing his eyes and shot me a look, “I’m never late mom. Whether you’re here or not I’m always on time.”
“I know. That’s why I love you,” I chided. “Now get in the shower.”
I collected some loose laundry from his room and headed downstairs. I thought about what he’d said as I walked. He was right; he was never late. For a high school senior that has just turned eighteen, he was more responsible than most boys his age — and for that, I was very thankful. I’d taken a territory sales job shortly after he had turned sixteen and I was on the road three to six days a week. He was an independent, responsible boy who had never given me a reason to loose trust in him. For an un-wed mother barely into her thirties, he was a blessing and I was thankful beyond imagination for that.
I dumped his cloths in the laundry room and headed to the kitchen. The coffee pot was spitting the last few drops of caffeine goodness through the filter. I grabbed my large mug and did the tip-and-switch pour without spilling a drop on the burner. I reached into the fridge and grabbed the creamer. I fixed my coffee and slowly sipped it as I paced in the kitchen. After yelling for him multiple times while he was in the shower, he finally got ready and was rushing through the kitchen with wet spikey hair and a backpack over his shoulder. He tried to hurry past me and I double clutched my mug to protect it.
“Ugh, sorry mom,” he said as he twisted around me, “I’m gonna be late.”
I stood there in my terrycloth robe and balanced my coffee as I teased him with a smirk, “Told you.”
He rolled his eyes with a smile as he headed out the door, “See you after school mom.”
“I have errands to run and have to leave town on Sunday,” I blurted, “I’d like to go to dinner if you want.”
“Sorry mom. Got plans tonight,” he yelled over his shoulder as the door closed. I sat down in the chair to finish my coffee and the brief chaos in the house was replaced by absolute silence. It wouldn’t be long before he was off to college. I looked around the empty quiet house and decided I was not looking forward to those days.
After my lonely cup of coffee and a quick email check, I retrieved my hamper from the upstairs bathroom and went to the laundry room to sort my cloths. I tossed my dry cleaning from the suitcase to the floor then I piled my lights and next to them. A few handfuls into my hamper I grabbed a pair of panties and tossed them onto the pile of darks. I had done it so quickly my brain barely registered that they felt slightly odd. I paused and looked back at the pile and realized I hadn’t worn that particular pair in a while — a long while. The panties we part of a black, lace corset set I had purchased a few years back and, sadly, never had the opportunity to wear for anyone other than myself.
I reached down and picked them up again and the fabric unfolded into my hand. My eyes widened in shock as the sticky wetness revealed itself in the folds of the satin fabric. As I leaned in to inspect them the fresh aroma of cum filled my nostrils.
“Oh shit!” I muttered in disbelief as I dropped them and gasped. The panties fell to the floor and unfolded — exposing the gobs of cum inside them. I covered Maltepe Escort my mouth with one hand as my brain spiraled out of control with a flood of emotions. I was shocked. No, angry. How could he? Did he? When did he? Just now? When was he in my drawer? “Ohhh ssshit. Shit.”
I crouched to see them as my brain processed a thousand scenarios all at once. Amidst all the clutter in my brain at that moment one vision kept surfacing above them all — my son standing there with a fist full of my panties, pumping them up and down on his cock.
I felt the heat on my face as I blushed. His cock? My boy doesn’t have a cock. He’s a boy. My boy. Men have cocks — other men. The word “cock” danced around my brain like a twisted mantra. No matter where I looked in the room I only saw him — his hand filled with the panties I’d purchased to fulfill some distant desire, sliding up and down on his cock. I held my breath as I envisioned his hand moving in long slow strokes — precum spilling from his velvety tip onto the slick fabric as it slid up and down. His hand moving faster and faster until the long white ropes of cum spilled into them — pooling into the folds until he wiped his cock clean.
My heart was pounding in my throat and my hands trembled as I knelt over my soiled panties. I stared them with lust in my eyes and the tingle of five sexless years between my legs. Without so much as a second thought, I loosened my robe as I stood up. I hooked my thumbs in the sides of my less-sexier underwear, pushed them over my hips and stepped out of them.
My body moved as if it were in some uncontrollable, hypnotic state. I reached down and slowly shook the wet panties open and I stepped into them. Inch by inch I pulled them up my thighs as my hands trembled. Cum streaked along the tops of my thighs as the lace passed over them. I spread my legs as the cold, wet fabric met my aching slit. I tugged at the waistband and wiggled the cum-covered satin against my mound of hair and flesh. My chest heaved in short gasps as my nipples hardened and the chill of the wet material touched me from front to back — as if trying to suffocate the fire building beneath it.
I leaned back against the drier as my hands slip over my belly then deep between my legs. As my fingers plowed over the satin the remnants of his cum coated them like grease. A moan escaped my lips as I pressed the fabric deep into the folds of my pussy and his nectar squished between my fingers. The slow, delicate movements of my hands didn’t last. Within seconds my fingers were circling my clit in a blur.
My shoulders rolled in circles as my fingers teased. I stood briefly and shrugged my robe to the floor, then spun and leaned over the drier. Like some desperate slut I spread my legs and pushed my ass into the air. Gravity worked it’s magic and I felt a huge ball of cum drip onto my ass and run down to my fingers. My breasts rested on the cold metal of the drier and they ached for attention. As one hand continued to rub in, over and around my pussy, my other tugged and twisted at my nipples.
I closed my eyes and watched his cock driving across my panties. My eyes zoomed out from the scene until I saw his firm belly, chest and then face. My hips bucked wildly as I pushed up on my tippy toes. My body contorted and convulsed as I pictured him assaulting my panties until his cum spilled into them like a flowing river. I bit my lip hard and crumpled over the drier, twitching and writhing in a mind blowing and body numbing orgasm.
As my lucidity returned I looked back over my shoulder Anadolu Yakası Escort and saw myself in the half-hidden, full-length mirror on the back of the laundry room door. My fantasy lingerie was stuffed tightly between my perched ass cheeks. Below my ass my fingers were still stuffing my sons cum deep inside my gaping pussy. My firm b-cup breasts were red, scratched and flattened on white metal. As my gaze reached my face I saw the wisps of sweaty hair frame the look of a woman who wanted it. Needed it — and at this moment would beg for it. Tears welled and then streamed over my face. What was I doing?
The ring of my cell phone nearly caused my heart to stop. I pushed myself off the drier grabbed my robe and stuffed myself into it before the second ring chimed. I cinched the belt tightly as I headed into the kitchen, whipping my eyes dry and sniffing quickly as I reached for it and answered, “This is Dana.”
“Hey D, it’s Shelly,” chirped a bright voice on the other end of the phone, “Sorry to call you on your day off but there’s big problems in Minneapolis.”
“Oh great,” my voice quivered as I sniffed into the phone.
“D,” Shelly paused, “Everything ok? You sound like you’re crying.”
“Oh yeah, ” I gasped trying to hold back more tears, “I stubbed my toe on the edge of the door while running for the phone.”
“Awww crap. I hate when I do that.”
“I’ll be ok,” I lied, “what’s up in the twin cities?”
“Well the distributor hired a new buyer,” she paused, “David Winters.”
One moment of turmoil quickly circumvented the other and my work game-face instantly replaced the feelings of despair that had consumed me seconds ago. David was my biggest sales nemesis in the Great Lakes Region and had, up until this phone call, sold for my biggest competitor.
“You’re fucking kidding me.”
“Nope,” she said emphatically, “What’s worse is he wants to you too meet him tomorrow.”
“Well,” I pondered, “Either he’s going to drop our line and pick up theirs, or something really bad happened there and he hates them…”
“And he wants to give you all his old contacts to spite them?”
I pondered her statement and laughed, “Hhhmmmm.. doubt it.”
Shelly laughed back then let another bomb drop, “Well, the really bad news is, I can’t get you a flight. You gotta drive it.”
“Shelly. No way. That means I have leave in like a few hours. I’ve just started laundry. There has to be a morning flight.” My knee wiggled back and forth with anger and I wanted to just scream.
“You can wait on standby for a 9pm flight but if you miss that you’ll be driving all night, ” she said apologetically as she could.
“Fuck. Fuck Fuck, ” I said stomping my foot with each word.
“If it’s any consolation, Charles said he’d double your travel per diem for this trip and you can take three days off next week.”
“Well, guess I have to pack.” I sighed, “I’ll call you when I’m on the road.
Upon hanging up frantically rushed to the laundry room and grabbed my suitcase. I took the stairs two steps at a time to the bedroom, flipped my case open on the bed and began grabbing cloths from my closet. When I reached my dresser and reached for my underwear drawer my jaw nearly dropped. I looked up in the mirror and my hands slowly opened my robe as I stared at my reflection. I was still wearing them. My eyes drifted over the soaked satin and lifted my robe over my hip — turning sideways to the mirror as if modeling them. I looked back at my face and I had a soft smile. They looked good. Felt good. İstanbul Escort I didn’t want to take them off. I let the robe drop and watched myself in the mirror as a walked to the bedroom door. I slipped down to the kitchen and grabbed a plastic sandwich bag. Without thinking twice, I walked back up stairs and returned to my mirror. I looked at they way they fit one more time, as if trying to etch the vision in my mind. I peeled them off slowly and watched my still swollen pussy lips pull away from my body as they stuck to the satin. I stepped out of them, folded them neatly and slipped them into the plastic bag and zipped it closed.
After stuffing the bag into a pocket on my suitcase I looked back at my body in the mirror. The nest of hair on my pussy looked matted and uncared for. It was then that I decided I needed to pamper myself a bit more often. Not only did I pack my razor and scissors, I packed the rest of my fantasy outfit, including the corset, stockings and my best black pumps — the ones that had never been worn outside and were never meant to.
Within an hour and a half I had packed, showered and fixed my hair. I loaded the car and left a brief note for Alex to call me when he arrived home. Just as I was ready to head for the car and leave I realized I’d forgot to MapQuest my drive. While I rely on the GPS in my car I still like to have a map handy. I ran to Alex’s computer in the game room and booted it up. I enter my destinations and began to print my maps. As I waited for the maps to print, curiosity got the best of me and opened my son’s history file for his web browser. I was searching for clues to answer one simple question, “Did he take my panties because they were panties, or because they were my panties?”
As I suspected there was an ample amount of history to various porn sites. Judging from the names of the sites, none seem to be specifically dedicated to anything freakishly hardcore, or dare I say taboo. I don’t know why it made me feel better but it did. It did, however leave me questioning my own lewd thoughts. Thankfully the printer stopped and shook me from my inquisitive stare. Just before I clicked to close the window I noticed the frequency of one particular webcam site. I wrote the name on a piece of paper and slipped it on my pocket before shutting everything down.
As I pulled out of the drive and got on the main road I dialed Shelly. While there was every reason to be mad about going on this trip, not having to awkwardly face my son this evening was an advantage — a big advantage. All things considered the six-hour drive from Chicago to Minneapolis would probably do me good. Shelly answered on the second ring and I snapped out of my drifting thoughts, “Mirage Salon Products, how can I help you?”
“Hi Shelly, It’s Dana. I’m on the road.”
“Oh Hey D. That’s great. I’m, really, really, sorry your weekend was messed up,” she apologized again.
“It’s ok. It’s really not that bad of a drive, ” I said.
“Well, if you have to stop on the way, you’ll have to decide between cheese castles and adult books stores, ” she laughed, “that’s all they have in Wisconsin.”
“Mmmmm… cheese, ” I laughed nervously as a light bulb went on over my head and I blushed three shades of red.
We exchanged a few more pleasantries and meeting details. Our call ended just as I pulled onto the expressway to head north. While I kept my eyes on the road my mind was in other places. Other places I had not been to in a very long time. Though I’d driven past those adult books stores over a hundred times, I now found myself trying to remember the specific exits. While I was confident I could find one of these stores, I was less confident I could find the courage to go inside. Regardless of my current indecision, one thing had become emphatically clear; a drive like this was overdue — long overdue.