Mom, You Deserve a Good Lover

Colette said, "Great idea, what are you, size 7?" Mom nodded yes and Colette knelt, selected 3 ½ inch black leather heels from a shoe rack, slipped them onto Mom's feet, ran her hands down Mom's legs, said, "I love the strength of these wonderful legs," stood, undid Mom's ponytail, dragged her fingers through Mom's hair, leaving it wild and unkempt, complementing the unalloyed sexuality of her corseted body.

Colette moved away and Mom lifted her leg, looked at the shoe, turned to the mirror, saw sex, pure sex.

Alex stepped forward and hand resting on the small of Mom's back said, "You're stunning."

Colette said, "That she is. Jodi, although I can't imagine anything looking better, would you like to try the red satin corset?"

Mom, nodding her head, her voice hoarse with arousal, said, "Yes."

Alex and Colette returned to the shop for the red corset and Mom staring at her image in the mirror, imagined starring in a video where beautiful women peeled beautiful lingerie off each other. She pressed the heel of her hand to her sex, jerking it away when the door opened. Colette, displaying no sign she'd seen Mom touch herself, said, "Ready for satin?"

Mom said, "Yes," and Colette, hands and fingers warm, sweet, gentle, undid the leather corset's belts, clasps, and buckles, lowered its zipper, Mom enjoying Colette's delicate touch, which seemed to linger longer, be sweeter and more attentive than when she put the corset on.

When done Colette lay the leather corset over the back of a chair and as Mom, naked but for panties and heels, held out her arms, Colette slid the red corset onto her, tightened the laces in the back, fastened the busks in front, tied up the back. Mom gasped as cool satin sculpted itself to her skin and swollen pussy lips, did so again as Colette, fingers between the corset and Mom's shoulder blades, adjusted it, then playfully slapped Mom's firm bottom. As a stream of delicious previously unknown thrills flowed through Mom's body Colette said, "I think that's right, take a look."

Nostrils flaring, heart quickening, Mom turned to the mirror. In the leather corset she'd been a warrior who'd celebrate victory in battle by taking on, wearing out, lover after lover. In satin she was a Bourbon courtesan, a kept woman whose ascent resulted from charm, skill as a hostess, guile, and that there was no better fuck in the realm.

Colette said, "My god you're, its perfect. How do you feel?"

Breasts swollen and throbbing, the outline of her nipples discernible in the dense fabric, Mom looked in the mirror and said, "I love it, I love the way it feels on my skin."

Running a finger down Mom's back Colette said, "These corsets provide very different looks, few women can wear both. You make both look good. Do you prefer one to the other?"

As the sensation of Colette's finger streamed through her like a languid sensual wave Mom finally understood. Colette was coming on to her.

"No. I love them both, want them both."

Colette moved Mom's blonde hair aside and whispered into her ear, "Both? You're right, two can be so much more fun than one. Perhaps I can make you a deal."

Mom thought of Alex. She knew about Mom's recent fixation on lesbian porn. She'd urged Mom to explore her sexuality, said she had ideas for the journey. Alex had set this up. And while on another day Mom might have felt manipulated, right now, deeply aroused, Mom knew it meant two things: it would be safe, it would be fun.

Was she ready? She wasn't sure, but she knew she'd go with the flow, do nothing to stop it, see what happened.

Colette, seeing the lust and need burning in Mom's eyes, kissed Mom's neck and shoulder, moved a hand down Mom's flanks, across her flat stomach.

* * * * *

For Colette, the shop was about love. She loved the network that supplied her with this exquisite vintage lingerie, loved touching it, sorting it, arranging it, loved pricing and selling it. She had no interest in the mass market, that was for places with catalogs, stores in malls, emaciated twenty-something models. No, she wanted to sell lingerie to older, more mature, ladies.

She knew many of these women would become her lovers. What could be more arousing than trying on sexy clothes in the intimate atmosphere of her shop? But still the number surprised her. So many husbands had grown indifferent and uninteresting and older women, inspired by the sexual fluidity of the generation behind them, were increasingly ready to experiment.

Soon women, having learned of Colette from a friend or relative, would appear, cash in hand, looking forward to an afternoon of modeling sexy clothes culminating in an evening in Colette's firm bed, located in the rear half of the building where she lived.

Jodi was different; this was a true seduction. Alex had told her Jodi was old school, straight, loyal to her husband, but Colette could see that Mom, desperately needing a safe outlet for a sexual energy that was intensifying as she approached forty, was breaking free of conventional restraints. As her hands glided on Mom's body, caressed the lovely toned flesh, Colette knew this customer was ready to cross the line.

* * * * *

Catching Mom's eyes in the mirror, Colette kissed the back of Mom's neck, lips grazing Mom's skin, a long slow kiss, then said, "Alex told me you were beautiful, but still, she didn't do you justice. Have you ever been with a woman?"

"No."

Colette covered Mom's breast with a hand, kissed Mom's shoulder. Mom dropped her head to the side, Colette kissed up her neck.

It had been a long time since Mom had been seduced; Mom liked being seduced.

Mom closed her eyes, leaned her body into Colette's, smiled, a sweet happy smile that signaled all was okay. Colette untied the knot in the back of the corset with a flick of her wrist, moved down mother's slender back loosening the ties until, reaching Mom's tiny pink panties, she slipped her hands underneath them, cupped Mom's butt-cheeks, squeezed.

Opening her eyes at the unexpected sensation, Mom, looked at Colette's image in the mirror, reached for Colette's hands, moved them to her chest, caressed them as Colette unbuckled busk after busk.

With one busk left Colette stopped, took a deep breath, admired the breathtaking vision standing before her – blonde hair, violet eyes luminous, cheekbones high, body slender toned – spread the corset open. Mom's breasts glowed red, her small nipples were swollen and stiff; Colette lay an open-mouth kiss on Mom's shoulder, nipped the tender skin of her neck, coaxing a delighted giggle from Mom.

Treating the giggle as permission Colette finished loosening the corset's ties, unhooked the final busk, held the corset as Mom slipped out of it.

Except for panties and heels Mom was naked, Colette fully clothed. Mom reached for Colette and said, "Now you," but Colette, cupping Mom's breasts, said, "No, not today, perhaps soon," as her strong fingers danced across the sensitive flesh, avoiding Mom's throbbing erect nipples. Mom whimpered in frustration and Colette dropped to her knees, kissed and nipped Mom's belly, dragged her tongue up Mom's midriff, through the valley of her breasts, past her collarbone to her neck.

Mom thought of Alex's mantra, "We mature ladies need to take care of our own needs, supply our own fantasies and desires."

When Colette reached Mom's mouth she found parted lips quivering waiting.

The women's mouths came together, Mom's delicate quick tongue played with Colette's, aggressive assertive one. Mom found she loved Colette's lips and tongue and breath, loved the slight vanilla taste of her own skin that lingered there.

Bodies pressed together, they kissed. Colette's hands made their way down Mom's body to her tight ass. Mom's hands tangled themselves in Colette's short red-brown hair, tugged caressed stroked.

Colette unexpectedly stepped back and Mom, longing for the broken contact, leaned forward, her tongue waggling in empty air, searching for Colette's missing mouth.

"Take off your panties,"

Mom blinked, slipped her fingers inside the hem of her panties, felt them cling to her wet sex, pushed them down, stepped out of them.

"Touch yourself."

Mom sank a finger into her sex, twisted it, held it up for inspection, was surprised when Colette, took hold of Mom's wrist, stepped forward, held the finger to her nose, inhaled, filling her senses with Mom's most intimate scent, let out a moan of pure lust.

Emboldened, for the first time Mom became the aggressor and, eyes burning with primal need and hunger, stepped forward, pressed her naked body to Colette's clothed one, crushed her lips to Colette, tried to devour her.

Tearing her lips away Colette attacked her lover's neck, snarled, "You're mine," into Mom's ear, marked her neck with little bites, dragged a high keening moan from the depth of Mom's soul, then drew back and, grinding her hand on Mom's sex, eyes starring into the core of Mom's being, said, "Say it."

Mom groaned, said, "I'm yours."

Colette probed Mom's tight pussy with a single finger and urging her to go faster deeper Mom grabbed Colette's wrist, but Colette, maintaining control, said, "Easy, baby girl," kissed her, added a second finger, pumped them in Mom's hungry aching channel, angled her hand so it's heel rolled on Mom's clit, added a third finger to the two thrusting in Mom's sex.

Mom, a marionette on a string, rocked her body on Colette's hand. It was building in her belly, growing bigger and bigger; it was terrifying beautiful overwhelming unstoppable. Colette's twisting fingers plunged deep, so fricking deep.

Mom started jibbering, "Unnh, unnh, unnh, unnh, unnh, unnh, unnh, unnh, unnh, unnh, unnh, unnh, unnh."

There was a fire in Mom's sex and a fire in her brain and there were sheets of light in her mind and they burned and hell broke loose, the amalgamation of sensations bursting free in one perfect moment that froze time and space and her body exploded in otherworldly divine animal euphoria. Sheer pure sexual pleasure filling her, back arching like a composite bow, she screamed the howl of a banshee and the joy echoed and rebounded within her until finally settling in her sex, in her puffy distended pussy.

Leaning into Colette's body Mom wore a vacant goofy smile, felt like overstretched rubber.

Colette stroked Mom's sweaty tousled hair, said, "You okay?"

"Heck yes."

* * * * *

Hair and make-up mostly perfect, Mom re-entered the shop, saw a woman chatting with Alex. Who was she, how long had she been here, had she heard Mom's orgasmic scream, were the bite marks on her neck still visible? Wanting to get the lay of the land Mom stopped and browsed the silk panties while checking out the visitor. Whoever she was she was elegant refined, her bearing regal, and she appeared oblivious to recent events. As Mom relaxed she noted the woman, who was in her sixties, was also quite attractive.

Mom chided herself. Had a single exotic adventure with Colette turned her into a same-sex predator?

Feeling safe Mom nodded to Alex who said, "Jodi, I'd like to introduce you to Olivia Broome, an old friend and the Mayor of this fair city. Olivia, this is Jodi Palmer, a new friend. It's her first visit to the shop."

Mom stuck out her hand, said, "Mayor Broome," who grasped it in both hers, leaned in, kissed Mom's cheek, said, "Please, it's Olivia. From the smile on your face I'm thinking Colette has taken good care of you."

Wondering what exactly Mayor Broome meant, Mom paused and Colette, as if on cue, walked into the shop carrying two boxes and said, "Jodi here are the items you purchased, I expect you'll love them, but if not call. We can always work out an exchange. I work hard to make sure my customers remain satisfied."

Then, turning her attention to her newest guest, Colette said, "Mayor, it's so good of you to come. I have some things I want to show you in the back. Alex, please lock the door on your way out."

* * * * *

Tossing Mom the keys to her SUV Alex said, "Would you mind driving?"

Mom said, "No," and perplexed by Alex's casual attitude added, "Did you set this up?"

Expecting Alex to either deny it or play dumb, Mom was surprised by her frank, "If you mean put you in a safe situation where you could, if you chose, further explore your sexuality, I'm guilty. A friend introduced me to Colette and her wonderful shop a couple of years ago. I've never stopped thanking her. Do you have any complaints?"

Although she knew she should, the best Mom could manage was, "Well, I mean, you should let me know what you were planning."

Sitting in the passenger seat Alex reached into the back, fumbled in her bag, pulled out her Osé, lowered her seat, and said, "That takes all the fun out of it, but okay honey, this is what I'm planning. Listening to you two got me so hot I'm planning to enjoy myself on the way home," then reached under her dress, removed her panties, worked the Osé inside her sex.

It was not long before Mom, desperate to get home to her own Osé, slid a hand under her bra to massage a breast.

Soon the car was permeated by the smell of sex, the squishy sound of the Osé in Alex's cunt harmonizing with the noise of the road, and Mom, seeing her friend headed for a climax, ripped her hand from her breast, squeezed Alex's, and said, "You red-headed goddess, come for me, come for me."

Emitting a series of short hard grunts Alex came. The cunt juice left a stain that required serious elbow grease to remove.

* * * * *

Dad was on the road. Mom was in bed, the Osé laying by her side, juice dripping from her sex. On screen the MILF jerking on her step-son's cock got a facial. Momentarily satiated, Mom explored, found more stepmother-stepson porn, then teacher-student, boss-employee, parent-babysitter, masturbating one more time before falling asleep.

* * * * *

The three of us were at Sharon's picking through last night's leftovers as I reported on my most recent snooping.

"Mom's started branching out. She likes anal if it's not brutal, exhibitionist/voyeur's a definite turn on. Gay men don't interest her, but you and Colette hit a home run; gay women sure do. Threesomes and foursomes yes, massive uncontrolled orgies no; interracial sex is fine if not the theme. She has no problem with black men and white women unless he's telling her she's a high-society bitch who needs big black cock to loosen her up. Still loves massage porn and digs power imbalances: stepmother-stepson, stepmother-stepdaughter, teacher-student, strapless dildo. Her collection of toys has expanded; it now includes several vibrators, a butt plug, and nipple clamps.

"She's masturbating a lot. It used to be only when Dad was out of town and then last thing in the day, now most days she takes short do-not-disturb-me naps upon returning from work. On weekends if I say I'll gone for several hours she heads straight for the bedroom."

Alex said, "What have you noticed Sharon?"

"While her clothes remain appropriate, they're hotter. She bought a couple leather skirts, wears more enticing work-out clothes. I checked the laundry. Her lingerie is naughtier, panties silk and skimpy, lacy bras offering full support to those wonderful breasts. There's a definite sexual vibe to her. She's experimenting with hair, make-up, bling. She digs it when Sam and I notice, compliment her. When Sam's not around I get more explicit, urge her to go tighter, shorter, give the world a show. It's girl talk, but she loves it."

Smiling, Alex said, "All good, it's time for the penultimate step."

* * * * *

Sharon idly playing with Mom's hair, the three of us sat on the couch watching Game of Thrones. Earlier that day, after a massage, Sharon and I'd made love in this room. I could smell it, which meant Mom could, which meant my mother had to be imagining Sharon and my bodies intertwined, fucking. If Dad hadn't been home working on the computer Mom would have excused herself, selected a favorite video, slipped a favorite toy between her legs.

Dad came thumping down the hall, stuck his head in the door. When I paused the show he said, "I got news, good and bad. Business is great, which means I'll be on the road over the next couple of weeks, including the weekend of the 12th, Mother's Day. Sorry babe."

Sharon immediately chipped in, "Mrs. P, Mom and I have reservations at Solcano's for lunch, why don't you and Sam join us?"

Mom looked at me, I smiled my agreement, and giving my father a look of absolution Mom said, "Sounds perfect."

Dad, thinking his wife had recently been in an uncommonly good mood, happy not to have his head bitten off, headed back down the hall, and Sharon looked to me and said, "Since we're lunching together why don't you and I switch?"

I gave my girlfriend my pained "we're not supposed to talk about that look," but it was too late and Mom said, "Switch? What are you talking about?"

After my brief ineffective protest that it was supposed to be a secret I said, "For Mother's Day Sharon and I are planning to give our mothers massages."

Sharon said, "Yeah, but since we'll be out together why don't I do you and Sam could do my Mom. Introduce a little variety."

Mom shrugged, said, "If it is okay with Alex it's okay with me."

* * * * *

Friday night before Mothers Day's Sharon and I were out, Dad on the road, and Mom settled in her bed, flipped on the computer and called up a video. An attractive large breasted older women, a towel draped over her bubble butt, lay face down on a massage table while a red-headed woman of medium height dipped her fingers into a bowl of massage oil. The masseuse worked her customer, asked her to roll onto her back. Her hands grew bolder, but stopped short of the intimate until the woman on the table, eyes hazy with desire, took hold of the hands, moved one under the towel, the other to her breast.

* * * * *

After our Mother's Day brunch Mom was in her bedroom wrapping a towel around her naked body. A few months ago she'd never, but for a towel, have lay naked before her son's girlfriend or, for that matter, anyone else for a massage. Now how did she feel? The first phrase that popped in her head, "at ease," wasn't right, for she couldn't deny the sexual charge. Was it the thrill of pushing the edge of the envelope? Had the porn warped her sexual yearnings and needs?

She headed for the den, where Sharon and the massage table waited, wondering how many times Sharon and I'd given each other massages there, how many times we'd done so while porn played on the television, how many times led to sex?

Memories of the massage porn she'd watched crowded her mind: a customer laying on her back, a masseuse removing the towel, oiled fingers working labial lips and clit, slipping inside. Then a new image: her son on the table, Sharon crawling onto it, pulling her white tee over her head, straddling him, placing his dick on the entrance to her sex.

Sharon said, "Ms. P, why don't you lay down while I check the oil."

Brought back to reality Mom said, "Of course," slid onto the waist high table, took a deep breath, let herself become absorbed by the scent of the candles scattered through the room, the ambient light seeping though the blinds, the soft music playing from Sharon's phone.

Sharon returned with the heated oil and Mom said, "I can't thank you, and Sam, enough for this."

"Well Ms. P, if I'm any good thank Mom, she taught me everything I know."

"It's good to see you and your Mom so close, so many teenage daughters and mothers barely speak."

"Yeah, Mom and I are best friends; we share everything."

Recalling how at ease Alex had been commenting about her daughter's sex life, Mom wondered, did they share every lascivious detail?

Sharon dipped her fingers into the oil, worked the muscles between Mom's shoulder blades, gradually expanding the circular sweep of her hands until moving over Mom's upper back, down her sides. The touch was light, sweet, relaxing.