Incest/Taboo Mom Tries Belly Dancing

Oh, oh. I filled my mouth with fresh water and started brushing. I wanted to have an excuse for not answering whatever she was about to ask. Mom put her hands on my back, rubbed them in a big circle and brought them down my sides on the outside of the thick bathrobe. She leaned her head onto me and laid her face sideways, left side down, like she'd done earlier on my lap.

"Carol thinks you're a lot like her son."

Mom's hands rubbed my sides.

"Actually, she thinks you and I are a lot like her and her son."

Mom's hands rubbed my sides again and pushed around to my stomach, then tightened to give me a squeeze.

"She says you're making a big sacrifice watching me dance, like her son did, and I have to agree."

Mom hugged harder but, far from being pleased, it made me nervous because I was convinced she was about to explain how that wouldn't be necessary any more. I tried to say that it wasn't a big deal, that I enjoyed watching her, but the words came out in a frothy set of bubbles. Mom ignored my gargle.

"Carol said she used to make it up to her son, and she thinks it's only fair that I do the same for you."

This sounded like the conversation I had overheard between Mom and Carol before she stopped dancing for a week. I braced myself for a lecture about how things were getting out of hand and had become inappropriate. The tension in Mom's voice also filled me with an apprehension that couldn't be ignored even with the distraction of the hugging and the press of her breasts into my back.

"She thought her son was probably bored so, without really thinking about what she was doing, she spiced things up a little. She thought it was pretty hard for him, being almost a man and having to watch her."

Mom paused to let her meaning to sink in, then continued. I was glad she wasn't looking into the mirror.

"Carol's a pretty good looking woman, especially back then, and a guy would tend to forget, for some of the dances, that it was his mother dancing for him."

Mom's hands were still and I had the feeling she was waiting for me to acknowledge what she had said. I nodded, and started brushing my teeth again. Evidently, Mom felt my acknowledgement.

"Well, that's what Carol said anyway."

I nodded again and mumbled my understanding for good measure. There was a long pause where Mom hugged me and I kept brushing my teeth, though they were well past done.

"So, do you forget, sometimes, that it's me dancing?"

Was this was the trick question? Was all this a lead into a discussion about what I had tried to do, in the car? I didn't know the best way to answer, so I kept quiet and mentally kicked myself for shoving my hand up her skirt. Why the fuck had I done that?

"Like you did in the car…when you kissed me?"

I still didn't know what to say. I was pondering which way to go when Mom's hands started rubbing my stomach outside the bathrobe. It seemed a gesture of acceptance and I felt less threatened.

"Do you?"

I nodded, hesitantly, so I could act like I meant to shake my head instead if Mom got mad, but she pressed her head more firmly into my back and I felt I had said the right thing.

"That's okay, sweetie. I understand. I's just means I'm dancing well."

Mom paused as if expecting me to respond so I nodded again.

"I know it's hard on you, being young and virile," Mom's voice went hoarse on that word, "and I shouldn't ask for your help but I really am relying on you."

Mom was quiet for a few seconds, then added, "Carol says I'm mean."

There was another long pause.

"I could make it up to you. Would you like that?"

I looked at my reflection in the mirror. Mom was still rubbing my stomach through the robe which was starting to have an effect on me.

"You don`t have to, Mom. I mean, there's no need to…"

"I can't do what Carol did with Mark, but I can do something else for you."

There was another long pause. I didn't nod because I was wondering what Carol did that Mom couldn't do. Then I thought about what she could do. Kissing?

"Curtis?"

"I guess, but you don't have to, Mom. I like watching you dance."

Mom's hands suddenly slipped inside my robe and landed on my bare stomach, paused briefly, then slid down until they bracketed the sides of my hard cock, the tip of which had pushed up through the waistband of my pajamas when Mom first pressed her breasts into my back.

"Carol suggested I do this for you," Mom whispered.

She rubbed the front of my pajamas, her fingers curling down to cup my balls, then sliding up the full length until her palm slipped onto the bare tip.

"Mom!" I cried, blowing a frothy mixture of saliva and toothpaste into the sink. I was genuinely shocked.

"Shhhhhhh, your father…"

Mom used her left hand to pull the waistband of the pajamas out and down. Her right slid inside and its thumb and index finger encircled my root while the rest of the fingers curled down to cup my balls again.

"Don't you want me to?"

I shook my head, then nodded, and Mom laughed softly at my confusion.

"Let me know when you make up your mind," she said.

Mom slid the circle of thumb and forefinger up my shaft, barely tickling the sides until she ran into the head, then tugged it over and squeezed almost shut to tease my tip. She started stroking my cock, delicately sliding the thumb and forefinger up and down my shaft, making it harder with each stroke. I gripped the side of the sink and hung on, using my arms to help my legs prop me up. Mom gradually stroked faster and faster, like an old fashioned train working up a full head of steam as it left the station except the sounds weren't chugs of steam but rather cooing sounds from Mom.

"Close your eyes, sweetie, so you see me dancing."

Immediately, I started breathing very harshly. I was already close to coming.

"Aim for the sink," Mom cried, pulling the bathrobe to the side with her left hand. "I have enough laundry to do," she teased.

I moaned and Mom whispered, "Can you see me dancing, baby?"

I groaned and started spurting all over the sink, the taps, and way up onto the mirror.

"Oh my," Mom exclaimed. "All that, for me?"

I groaned and looked down to watch the last drops squeeze out of my cock.

Mom turned on the hot water and washed her hands as if nothing had happened. As she dried them, she said, "So I guess we're on for Thursday."

The door closed behind her and I stared at myself in the mirror through the splatters of my cum. Had this really fucking happened? That night I said a prayer for Lady Alexandra.
​

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -​

Thursday saw a repeat. I ran home after school and watched Mom dance for almost two hours. The best part was when she crawled toward me, her face a strange mixture of saucy smile matched to sheepish eyes. This time, Mom didn't just rub the side of her face on my boner, she turned into my lap and I felt the softness of her nibbling lips, even through my jeans.

After supper, Mom slipped upstairs after I made it fairly obvious I was going up to have an early shower. I was waiting by the sink in my pajama bottoms and nothing else when Mom came in. In the mirror, I watched her approach me from behind. At first, she averted her eyes when she saw me looking, then she met and held my gaze.

As Mom circled the root of my cock with thumb and forefinger, she pressed her face against my bare back and peered over my shoulder. She watched me closely as the slipped her improvised ring up and down my shaft and when her ministrations first made me suck in my breath, her eyes twinkled with satisfaction.

There were many more sudden inhalations after that and the first time I closed my eyes, Mom nibbled the back of my shoulder and grasped my shaft firmly in her whole fist. Despite squeezing my dick hard, Mom's slippery steel grip felt absolutely wonderful all the way up and all the way down. The tender palm of Mom's hand felt magnificent rubbing the topside of my shaft while her massaging fingers strummed the veiny underside, and not all of those incredible sensations were due to the warming magic of Vaseline, though Mom worked it into my meat so well it felt like she was larding me with Vicks VapRub.

After a dozen or so long and hard squeezing strokes, Mom's hand began to pick up speed but, in conrtast to the slow steam engine build up she had executed before, the pace increased rapidly. I opened my eyes to see Mom's eyes peeking over my shoulder with smoldering intensity as she yanking my cock hard and fast.

"Do you think Lady Alexandra is hot?" Mom whispered tensely.

I nodded, gasping for breath.

"Does she have nice breasts?"

I nodded vigorously.

"And an awesome ass?"

"Yeah."

Mom jacked my cock faster.

"Would you fuck her?"

"Yeah!"

Mom squeezed my shaft so hard it almost ripped out of my body. Just before I came, she lifted up on her tippy toes, pressed her whole body against me, and alternated between whispering in my ear and tickling the crook of my neck with her tongue.

"Think of me, baby," she said, over and over.

I blasted the mirror with even more spunk than the first time Mom jacked me off. Mom washed her hand in the same matter-of-fact manner she had before, dried them on a hand towel, and left without saying anything or looking at me. It was as if she had finished doing a household chore. I wondered if she really felt like that or whether it was the only way she could rationalize her behavior. I hoped it wasn't the former because the thought left me feeling kind of empty inside.
​

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -​

Mom and Dad went out for dinner again on Friday night and returned tipsy and in a good mood. As before, they went upstairs shortly after getting home and I lurked in the hallway to listen to the muffled sounds of their love-making. I don't know why I did that to myself. Thank God it didn't last long.

Mom didn't ask me to take her to Milo's on Saturday so it was a long stretch to Tuesday.

On Tuesday, I recognized the dance Mom was doing as part of the Dance of the Seven Veils and realized she really was practising for her promised performance at Milo's. I watched every move with renewed interest, imagining Mom in the veiled costume amid the shifting lights of the restaurant dance floor. I could hardly wait for her to crawl toward me across the floor when she was finished and she didn't disappoint me. This time, when she turned her face into my lap, her lips nibbled up and down the length of my shaft through my pants.

I was further blown away when Mom lifted her head and whispered, "Let's get you started a little early."

Mom unbuckled my belt, unzipped my pants, and fished my cock out with some difficulty because it was so hard and bent up. She looked at it as she jacked me off, glancing up periodically to flash a smile but quickly returning her attention to my cock, and her toy. Mom seemed to be genuinely playing with it.

"You'd better come upstairs before something happens," Mom said, looking critically at how stiff and erect my shaft was. "I guess this wasn't such a good idea," she said when she looked back and saw how awkwardly I was walking up the stairs. Mom finished me off quickly in the bathroom and I had just bathed the sink and mirror when Dad's car pulled into the driveway.

Later that night, Dad went upstairs to have a shower and read in bed. I pulled a reluctant mother up the stairs.

"But you've already had your treat," she complained.

I pleaded and wheedled, all the time pulling Mom closer to the bathroom, and despite her reluctance, she let me. I wondered if it was an act because once behind the bathroom door Mom played with my cock with relish. She got some Vaseline out of the cupboard, rubbed it into the palms of her hands, and then really gave my guy a good working over. Dad must have been long out of the shower by the time I erupted but I didn't hear the shower stop.

On Thursday, Mom started me downstairs despite saying on Tuesday that it had been a mistake to do so. I bent her face forward and tried to get her mouth onto me but she yanked her head back and glared at me.

"I am not Carol! I appreciate your help but this is it. Take it or leave it!"

I was taken aback by the vehemence with which Mom spoke her piece and apologized profusely. Mom accepted my apology but was still angry. She stroked my cock a few more times but then got up and walked briskly upstairs. I followed as best I could, trying to yank my jeans up, but Mom strode into her room and shut the door firmly behind her. I guess I now knew what Carol did for her son.

Bozo!

I fumed at myself through dinner and made a production of going upstairs to go to the bathroom after supper and, later on, about getting a shower. I waited both times, but Mom didn't come.

Fucking idiot!

I awoke late that night to a faint click. It was my bedroom door closing. There was a rustling noise and then Mom turned the lamp on beside my bed. She was wearing a thin nightgown and had something in her hand. The tube of Vaseline!

"Move over," she whispered.

I threw the blankets back and shuffled over. Mom slid into the bed on her back.

"Pull your pajamas down," she instructed, squeezing a dab of Vaseline into her left palm.

I yanked my pajamas right off and looked eagerly back at Mom's moon-lit face. One hand grasped my hardening shaft and the other squeezed my balls. It was amazing the way she could make her hands feel like I was slipping through her own slippery channel. I had the audacity to close my eyes and imagine I was doing just that. It didn't take long for Mom's delicate, slippery hands to have me on the verge. Just as I was wondering where it was all going to go, Mom squeezed my balls hard and I stopped worrying about it.

"If you want this to continue, don't try anything fancy like that again," Mom warned.

She didn't have to specify that she was referring to me trying to pull her mouth onto my cock; I knew what she was talking about. I was an obedient servant after that and gritted my teeth in silence three more times. The next time brought nirvana and I was more than ready by then. My cock, although loving every stroke and tease, was sore and my balls were dying to release their load. Mom kept my cock nearly flat against my stomach and steered my spunk up my chest and even onto my chin. She waited quietly while I captured my breath.

"Are you going to behave yourself from now on?" she asked.

"Yes," I mumbled.

"Good," she said. "You can take me to Milo's on Saturday."
​

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -​

On Friday, Mom and Dad went out again. They weren't in as happy a mood when they came back but nevertheless retired early. I swore I wouldn't but ended up standing outside their door again. Surprisingly, they were already finishing. I quickly beat a hasty retreat to my room and barely got there before my parents' door burst open. Mom stomped down the stairs and then dishes started banging about. I closed my door and went to bed.

Dad must have finished early and she didn't get her rocks off. Either that, or he tried to do something she didn't like. If she comes to my room, I thought, maybe I could take another stab at getting her mouth on me.

Don't be stupid, moron. She's not going to put her mouth on your cock just because she didn't get it off with Dad.

Well, maybe I could take another crack at getting my finger in her. I'll insist on comforting her instead of getting my rocks off and just slip my hand between her legs, under her nightgown, and see what happens.

Yeah, right.

Mom didn't come to my room that night. Best laid plans and all that. Oh well.
​

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -​

Dad slipped me another C note for dinner at Milo's late Saturday afternoon.

"Are you sure Mom wants to go?" I asked. "She hasn't said anything to me."

I was wondering about that because Mom had said she wanted to go and that was after my boo-boo so I was a little worried that she hadn't said anything more to me, especially since it was already after four.

Don't get me wrong. I was keen to take Mom to Milo's. I liked being the man having dinner with Mom. In that green dress, she was real eye candy. Watching Lady Alexandra dance wasn't a hardship either and the visits to the back room, when they happened, were the best of all. Plus, there was always the possibility of seeing more of Mom than she wanted to show. Carol was my side-kick in that regard. If it wasn't for Carol, I knew none of this would have happened. Ever since she put Mom's panties in my hand, I knew she would push Mom to have sex with me like I was now sure she did with her own son. Carol was my friend, and I definitely wanted Mom to remain hers.

"I think she does," Dad replied. "She likes going out for dinner, and dancing," Dad frowned.

I pocketed the money and went up to my room. When I came downstairs again, I heard Dad and Mom talking in the kitchen. He asked Mom if she was going to let me take her to Milo's. I lingered near the kitchen door to eavesdrop.

"Why? Did he say something?"

"No, but I think he really likes taking you."

"You do? I would think he'd be embarrassed being seen with his mother."

"You hardly look like his mother."

Mom's voice lowered. "Don't try to butter me up after last night."

"I'm not babe, but you know you haven't aged as fast as me. You look more like a woman out with a boy toy than a mother."

"Oh God, now I really feel good."

"Why not have some fun with it? Play around with people's minds a bit, just for the hell of it. Remember how we used to pretend?" Dad's voice changed, adopting a sexy edge that seemed out of place with him. "Then come home and tell me all about it."

Mom laughed loudly. The stair creaked and I walked into the living room as if I'd just come downstairs.

"What's so funny?" I said as I passed by the kitchen doorway.

"Nothing," came the joint reply.

"Are you taking your mother out?" Dad called.

"Does she want to go?"

"Hell yes," Mom said.

She was walking up the stairs when I emerged from the kitchen. When she disappeared down the hall, Dad pulled out another C note.

"Buy a really nice bottle of wine to have with dinner."

"Mom likes ouzo."

"Really?" Dad asked.

"Yeah. It's a Greek restaurant, Dad."

"Even better," he said.

Mom didn't call me to fetch her coat upstairs. When she came down, I couldn't quite suppress a gasp. Nor could Dad. Mom was wearing a very chic black dress that hugged her figure and, though it closed together just below her neck, it gapped open below to provide a peek-a-boo window on the inner swells of her pushed together breasts. The skirt wasn't short but it had a slit on the left side that reached way up Mom's thigh above matching velvet black high heels.

"Wow," Dad whistled, looking very pleased. He winked at me as I closed the door, rubbing thumb and forefinger together in a reminder to spend money on a few drinks. I guess I wasn't the only one hoping to get lucky with Mom. The thought bothered me a bit. Not that Dad didn't have a right, but rather that I didn't. I also didn't like the feeling of wanting to use her, by him or by me.

Lady Alexandra's dance was exceptional. The restaurant was very busy so she didn't have time to meet with us in the back room. She only sat long enough to extract a confirmation that Mom was practising the Dance of the Seven Veils. I was very disappointed to hear a visit to the back room wasn't on the menu.

"How's she doing, Curtis?"

She laughed before I could respond. "Don't bother. I can see the answer in your face."

She got up, still laughing and stooped to give Mom a womanly kiss on the cheek. "I hope you're having fun too, Lisa."

Mom blushed. I found that very endearing and encouraging. After Carol was gone, Mom asked me to dance with her and we spent quite a bit of time on the floor. I had one drink but Mom had quite a few more and it was late when we finally left. I drove straight for home but Mom told me to turn off.

"Let's go see the lights," she said in a husky, drink-worn voice.

"Won't Dad be waiting up for you?" I asked cheekily, making an obvious reference to expected extracurricular activities between my parents.

"Is that why you insisted I have more ouzo?"

I shrugged, not wanting to spill the beans on Dad, but Mom knew him too well.

"He can wait a while longer," Mom chuckled.

"Okay, if you say so."

"I say so."

I drove up the winding hill and parked in the little pull-off. I rolled the front windows down about a quarter of the way before turning off the engine and putting the key in the accessories position so we could listen to the radio. Mom turned it off when she slid across to sit next to me. I regretted the loss of the green dashlights but was glad when that Mom moved closer because I wasn't sure until that minute she would. Lately, I had been finding her quite unpredictable. The choice between dashlights and the warmth of Mom's body next to me was a no-brainer. We sat for about five minutes before Mom broke the silence.

"It's so soothing, looking at the lights and watching the cars, taking people here and there. It makes you wonder what's going on in their lives."

"Yeah, it's hard to know what people are up to. For all we know, old Mr. Jensen across the street could be an axe murderer."

"I was thinking of something more benign," Mom giggled.

"Like what?"

"Oh, I don't know. Like, maybe, that nobody would suspect the hijinks Carol got up to with her son after her husband was gone."

I was in the process of putting my arm around Mom but hesitated and let it hover over her shoulder. Mom grasped my hand and pulled my arm down, snug around her neck.

"It doesn't seem like she was too bothered by his absence," I observed.

"You couldn't be more wrong. She was absolutely devastated."

"Really?"

"Yes. Carol's a pretty good-looking woman but she didn't go out with anybody, even after a couple of years."

"Oh, I thought she moved on right away. She seems happy enough."

"Yeah, but at first Carol took it pretty hard and for a while she hit the bottle. If it wasn't for Mark, I don't know what she would have done. He talked her into buying the restaurant."

"Uh huh. At least her husband didn't leave her strapped."

"No, she was quite comfortable, financially, just lonely."

"So, how did it all start? She said she danced for her son. Was that it?"

"Are you trying to find out how far they went?"

"I guess," I admitted.

"A lot farther than it will go between us, if that's what you want to know."

"I thought you might have wanted to come up here to talk about it."

Mom turned her face up to study my face.

"You're older than you look, sometimes."

"So, are you going to lay down the law?"

"No. I think we have an understanding."

"Is that it, then?"

"No. I don't know quite how we got to where we are. No, that's a lie. I let it happen. I didn't mean to, and I let Carol push me, but I knew what I was doing to you and I kept it up. It made me feel like…well, like I haven't felt for a long time, but I can't let it go any further than it already has."

"You mean not go on any longer, or not go any further?"

Mom thought for a moment.

"No further than it has."

I was pleased, very pleased. I didn't comment but I tightened my arm around Mom's shoulders to express my gratitude. I stared out the window at the lights and picked a car to follow, wondering what the people inside were like and how they got along with each other. I was on my third car when I felt Mom's fingers on my belt.

"Dad's waiting for you," I said.

"I know," Mom replied.

I pressed back into the seat and let Mom undo my pants. She fished my cock out of my underwear and slowly started jacking me off. It was all very casual and I felt we could have been talking and having a coffee together like a couple who had been together a long time. I mentioned a car down below and said I bet there was a good-looking woman in it.

"I wonder if she has a son my age and how they get along."

Mom didn't say anything.

"I wonder if they kiss and stuff."​