Chapter 4
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From when Peter arrived, it was his birthday in a week, and about two weeks later, it would be Christmas. The month of December usually was the most joyous in their household. Peter’s birthday always lifted the spirits amongst them, followed by Christmas which sort-of cherry-topped his birthday, and soon after at New Year they would almost always be home together, enjoying each other’s company.
Peter took a few days extra holidays from college to be home a couple of days before his 21st birthday. Over the last couple of years, Peter had become more handsome, having filled up at the right place and grown in height. Exercising regularly had gotten him stronger as well.
Helene hugged him at the door, “Peter, great to see you home early,” with enthusiasm.
Peter excitedly replied, “always happy to come back home to see you, Mom.”
She kissed him on the cheek before setting him free.
Later that afternoon, when Ernst had left for the office, Peter and his mother spent time together in their first-floor sitting room, catching up.
Peter was glad his Mom seemed much better in spirit and health since his last visit a couple of months back.
After lunch, while Helene rested in her bedroom, Peter sneaked down to check on the glory hole room. The sideboard rack had gone missing from the hallway. As silently as he could, he entered the bedroom from where he was able to get access the last time around. The room had been fixed-up sufficiently enough; on the first look, one would possibly not be able to make out its reduced size. The new wall that had been built now had a decent wallpaper pasted on it, the design of which was such that it camouflaged the door-crack leveled with the wall. The wallpaper design with numerous vertical lines did well in covering the door, and the wall. The door itself was sans of any handle. It was the same door Peter had used last when he had seen the glory hole room, so he knew where it was.
He tried pushing in but found the door jammed, or it was possibly locked in some manner. On close inspection, he found the keyhole at the base of the door, again well hidden within the wallpaper design. Peter scoured the room thoroughly and found no key hidden anywhere. He went about to look for it elsewhere in the house and found nothing. He could not find any excess key even in the main hallway drawer, where the family usually kept all their keys and keychains. There was nothing on his mother’s car key ring, as well.
Out of instinct, he went to the room where the rack was supposed to be and discovered that the sideboard had found its original place back on the wall. On closer inspection, found an equally well inlaid and inconspicuous door that had been cut-out from the rack itself. It was an ingenious design. On the first impression, no one could figure out that the rack itself would crack open somewhere from the side, or that a door was fixed on its back. He mentally credited his dad for good thinking. There were no visible signs of the wall on the back because the sideboard rack was a wall-to-wall piece of furniture. Had he not seen the wall earlier, he would not have figured out instantly that there was a door behind. The room, on the other hand, had indeed shrunk.
He tried to open the sideboard rack from various points and soon found a well-hidden latch-lock. He pulled it down, and the sideboard rack gave way instantly on its hinges. The door had become heavy because of the sideboard mounted on it and it slowly opened inwards.
Peter smiled and entered the glory hole room. It was pitch dark, and he scrambled for his phone to find some light. Switching on the torch of his phone, he surveyed the walls. He found a switch to the left of the door and flicked the switch on.
He admired the other side of the glory hole wall, which he was not able to see the last time around. He scanned the room and found it to be well insulated and some small pieces of furniture – a table, a chair, a two-step stool, and a chest of drawers. On the wall in the center were the two distinct glory holes, cushion-lined on the circumference, small flaps of leather hid what was on the other side of the holes. The two holes were aligned vertically, one three feet high and the other, six feet high – both a foot-and-a-half wide. There were two hooks with clasps next to the upper hole.
Peter could feel instantly, that the glory hole had been used. He soaked in the landscape and pushed his face to the other side through the upper-hole. The room on the other side was dark. He fished his phone out and switched on the flashlight to scan the other side. Right in front of his face was a bench with a plush brown leather mattress and a cushion. The depression on the mattress indicated what he had suspected, that the glory hole had been used, for sure. He snapped a couple of pictures of the other room through the hole, and for good measure, on his retreat, also took a few pictures of the room, he was standing in.
He stepped back into the gateway bedroom and clicked shut the door into the sideboard rack. He was amused at what all he had observed. He slowly walked toward through the hallway and reached the sitting room on the ground floor. He sat on the sofa and closed his eyes, trying to absorb what he saw, and imagining his mother laying on the bench behind the hole, naked, with her legs clasped on the other side, open wide enough for her pussy to be taken.
Peter could not remember when, in his youth, had he started fantasizing about his mother, but his infatuation with her had started for as long he could get his dick up. Nearly on every occasion when he was jacking off, he would close his eyes and imagine his mother in her complete naked form.
A couple of years back, he had seen naked pictures of his mother in a digital camera, shot seductively. Many poses of hers, from various angles, let the viewer see the neatly trimmed pussy on her, her bare breasts, and her seductive body. From the surroundings in the photos, it was clear that the location of the pictures was his parent’s bedroom – he was sure of that. It was also apparent that the pictures were taken by his father because Peter had found the pictures on his father’s camera in a drawer of his bedroom. Peter had only chanced upon seeing the pictures because he had taken the camera once, without checking with his Dad, on an occasion when Ernst wasn’t home. It was Helene who had called for the camera for some pictures that needed to be taken, and dutifully Peter had done the job, only to discover the digital treasure stored on it.
As was obvious, Peter ensured each picture was copied on his personal laptop. Helene had become his jacking-off buddy ever since. Peter placed the camera back in Ernst’s drawer. The fact that he had used the camera was known to Helene, who at the time did not know that Ernst was still storing the pictures on the camera. Many weeks later, when later Ernst had discovered fresh photos on the camera and asked Helene about them, only to inform her that there were old naked pictures of her still on the camera. Apart from hoping that Peter must not have bothered to flip through the older pictures on the camera, both could not do much. They were embarrassed but did not speak about it with Peter.
Peter still had those nine pictures of his mother, in various stages of undress and posing seductively for the camera. Peter’s fantasies had remained stuck on Helene ever since; her regular hugging and kissing him affectionately did not help alleviate the situation for him. When at home, Peter would stay near his mother, and always levitate around her. When in his room, behind the closed door, he would jack off to his mother’s pictures daily. While jerking off, Peter would scan the nine photos and stopped at the final picture. As he jacked off, he had organized the photos to rotate in a manner that they would always stop at a specific picture of hers.
In this picture, she was sitting almost towards the corner of the bed, with one of her legs down on the floor and the other lay folding on the bed opening her thighs towards the camera. She was wearing high waist jeans with all its buttons open. The waistband of the jeans hanging off from around her waist. Even with the open lapels in front, her genitals or her panties were not visible in the picture. With her back straight, her hands behind her, palms resting down on the bed. With nothing else on her, she was naked until her waist. Some of her hair strewn in the front of her shoulders but none reaching her nipples or covering her breasts.
Her breasts pushing out just slightly because of her hands behind her on the bed. These were not the only breasts Peter had seen in photos, but no other held ground in front of this gorgeous pair. Amazingly well proportioned on her body. Her slim waist made her breasts seem even more alluring. Her bare shoulders supported the most gorgeous head on it. What made the picture worth a million was the look on her face, coupled with her seductive pose. Her full lips slightly parted, eyes open just enough to look into the camera and some of her hair partially covering her face and going further down her front. The picture was to die for.
Even after looking at it a hundred thousand times, Peter still had not found an ounce of fat on her body. She looked like an angel, and he was in heaven while in possession of the pictures. The picture got him off every time. In the final moments before cumming, his eyes would look into hers in the photo.
The photos set was about eight to ten year old, and if he looked at her even now, he hardly found her any different.
Peter was daydreaming, on the sofa, when his mother came to the sitting room and plonked next to him. The shuffle shook him out of fantasyland, and he saw his beautiful mother sitting next to him. He opened his eyes and thanked God for sending down this angel for him.
The way he looked at her, she was puzzled and checked, “Are you all right, Peter?”
He smiled, “yes, of course, Mom. I nodded off for a minute, and I had a wonderful dream in which you were flying in the clouds like a beautiful angel, and you slowly came down in our garden while I looked up in the clouds. And then here you are.”
Helene laughed and hugged her son around his neck and kissed him on the cheek. “Flatterer.”
“It’s true, Mom.” Peter was surprised why his mother wouldn’t agree with him.
She kissed him again on the cheek, while she hugged him sideways. She said, “love you son.”
“Love you too, Mom. Thank you Mom for being my mother.” still hugging Peter replied. Her heart melted.
Over the next week, the more Peter imagined his mother laying on her back in the glory hole, the hornier he got. The more he visualized it, the higher the urge to see her actually lying naked in the glory hole and being fucked.
He had never seen his parents make love, but they had been generally relaxed around sexuality, and about discussions of sex in the house. They would often be open about kissing in front of Peter, sometimes intimately; on various occasions, Peter had seen his dad grope her suggestively; at other times he caught their innuendoes and they did not cover it apologetically in front of Peter.
Usually, his mother always dressed appropriately around the house, but she was a bit more relaxed on their first floor; around the mornings, and in evenings, he would often see Helene relaxing in her nightie, mostly with a gown but quite a few times without. He would look forward to instances when he could see her in his father’s long shirt, which for some reason, she was fond of wearing at night as a change. The shirt would let her legs remain bare, and there lay an opportunity for him to see up the bottom of the shirt if she ever sat down in it. She was conscious to not show off her panties, but if Peter ended up seeing them, she did not fret beyond a point. She was by no means a prude.
What had changed in the last few months, and was noticeable now, was that Helene would not necessarily dress up until she really had to. She would often stay at home in her nightie for longer hours, and on many occasions, forgot the nightgown in her room. Her casualness could be attributed to her absent-mindedness. In Ernst’s opinion, Sara had changed her in more ways than she could think of.
Peter got all the attention he wanted, but he still felt his mother was somewhat distracted. He swore to work with her to get her to her normal self. Every alternative day Peter got her flowers, he complimented her every day, and cheered her up with his stories, his jokes and hugged her often, nuzzling his lips on her neck. Helene would kiss his cheeks every time, he did something of the kind.
Little did he know what was running in her mind. Her plans with Sara had moved along well, keeping her distracted and anxious.
He had spent the last couple of months planning how to get to see his parents in action in the glory hole room. He had been wracking his brain on how to get to see his mother in the glory hole. He had almost nailed down on the plot to get a camera installed, hidden inside the room. He was excited enough to do it, but there was this niggling doubt in his mind, and he could not really find the courage to overcome it. He felt creepy doing something like that.
On his second day home, he reckoned if anything further was possible, it would only be if he could actually figure out when his parents use the glory hole? and how often? For this, he had to get out of their way.
He ended up installing a tiny camera in the gateway-room that his Dad would use if he wanted to enter the glory hole room, and he connected it to his phone. When his father came home, he said his byes and left the house telling them he had to catch up with friends. Leaving them alone was the only way to figure out the use of the glory hole room. He returned home late, even while he sat on the far side of their garden at home to access the video link of the camera he had installed. No luck that night.
He did the same the next night and left as soon as his father came home. His entire day was spent with his mother, and that was also good enough reason for them to feel that he needed to step out of the house as well. Sitting in the garden, he watched the camera activity. No luck yet again.
On the morning of his birthday, he was sleeping when his mother came to his room early. She surprised him with a kiss on his cheek after she wished him, “Happy Birthday, Peter.” trying to rhyme in full enthusiasm.
Peter groggily, “thank you, Mom,” and then adding, “what time is it? Midnight?”
“No dear it’s six o’clock,” Helene replied. “I wanted to be first to wish you on your birthday.”
Elated, Peter opened his arms while laying on the bed inviting her to hug. Helene came to him as she kissed his cheek again. He folded his arms around her and pulled her while her lips were still on his cheeks.
She giggled as he pulled her. Her laugh encouraged him, and he rolled her to bring her on top and then kept on rolling her until she lay her in the middle of the bed; they lay side by side and holding each other in their arms as she still laughed merrily. Their faces in front of each other, only inches apart. She had this compelling urge to kiss him, and she bent upwards to kiss his forehead. His face slipped into her neck as she moved up towards his forehead. He pulled on her and pushed his lips into her neck as he snuggled into her.
Her left hand came behind his head, and she caressed on his hair and let him snug into her bosom lovingly. Her other hand was stuck between them. Both his hands were behind her, moving slowly, rubbing her spine, and shoulders in tandem, while his lips stayed in – for a never-ending kiss low on the front of her neck. Her breasts crushing into his chest and her belly barely touching his.
His grip around her was insistent enough to signal her that she was not to move, and he wanted to cuddle. She relaxed with each passing minute; he raised the stakes with each passing moment. He kissed her neck and pulled back to lower himself to kiss high on her chest outlining her breasts, then he went sideways and kissed her shoulders only to move up kissing the side of her neck.
She let slip a moan, “mmm.” Surprising herself.
He stuck his lips on the side of her neck and lingered there the longest. Her hand behind his neck holding him still, as if implying, ‘please do more of this.’
Tens of kisses later, he left the neck and moved to her left ear. Conscious not to be loud in her ear, his kiss was almost silent but evident. He thought for a moment, and then brought his tongue out and licked her ear from the inside.
Her body shivered from her chest to her pussy. She moaned, “mmmmm,” as if telling him, ‘I love it, but please don’t do it.’
He gave one last lick before moving sideways to kiss her cheek. His lips were wet, and the marks he was leaving on her cheeks were that of a sloppy kiss and not a mother-son kiss.
She was enjoying the attention, which was now bordering permissible limits. Though she was relaxed, her thoughts were elsewhere, even while she was clearly being wooed.
He moved his lips up to her closed eyes, and he kissed long sloppy ones on both and moved down. On reaching her nose, he kissed it just a peck and rushed into his next move, scared that she might react differently, he hastened to drop his lips on hers.
By now, she was already in another world. In her dreamy state, she kissed him back. Enthused with her returning the kiss, his kisses became less furtive and more demanding. They kissed and licked each other’s lips, and by their tenth kiss her eyes had opened, and she was looking into her son’s eyes as he entered her mouth with his tongue.
She regretted letting this happen but was way too far into it to withdraw. Her own hand pulling Peter firmly and his hands behind her back were holding her head in place, and even if she wanted, she could not pull back now.
Helene let his tongue come in and slowly loosened again and gave him his birthday gift. She started sucking his tongue as only his girlfriend would. Her mouth sucked on his tongue, and her tongue played with his. His aggression stemmed from the fact that he had achieved more than he had hoped for this morning, was apparent, and he slowed down on her volition.
Conscious that she was letting her son kiss her, she let Peter have his fun. She told herself that this one-time thing was part of his birthday present. She was aware that it was way beyond the natural course for them but assuring herself that she would let this one slip, as a special occasion given his birthday.
Their kisses grew hungrier, both not letting the other go back; after he was in her mouth for a good five minutes, they both backed out for air. He rapidly took a couple of quick breaths before starting to go back into her mouth, but this time around Peter found her lips closed.
He got the message but kept kissing her number of times on her lips as if pleading to let him go in. Helene did not, even though she kissed him back for every kiss he gave her. After a long session of necking, they lay in each other’s arms, without saying anything.
With the moment having passed, Helene collected herself and finally rolled on top of him. Then, she rolled once more to step down from the bed. She tickled him before getting down on the floor, making the situation lighter than it had actually become.
Helene finally bent on his head and kissed him one final time on the forehead, all motherly before wishing him again, “Happy Birthday, son.”
“Thanks, Mom,” he responded in a low tone.
“Love you,” she said, still bent on his face.
“Love you too, Mom,” he replied with as much warmth as he could muster in a brief second that followed.
Their eyes spoke to each other, and her hand slipped out of his wavy hair as she turned to get out of his room.
Looking back from the door, she said, “come out soon, and I’ll cook you breakfast.”
———
Much that it had excited Peter, he felt shitty having taken advantage of his mother. He knew she kissed him back, and he felt her heart was in it as well, but he still somehow felt uneasy.
When he went down for breakfast and saw Helene was alone getting the breakfast ready for him. A great waft of fresh bacon, eggs, and bread around the table.
He looked around for his Dad and then reached his mother.
“Hey, Mom. I…..” He stammered trying to remember how to start the sentence.
Helene looked at him and smiled her brightest ever to put him at ease. Her brow raised, asking him what he was saying.
“Mom, I’m sorry about this morning. I don’t know what came over me and…” Peter looked into her eyes and genuinely apologized.
Helene smiled and felt happy that her son was behaving responsibly and maturely. “Don’t worry. It’s okay.” She added with a pause “Think of it as your birthday present.”
Peter could not help but grin back. Happy that it was not an issue and even happier that what he got was actually his, even if it came as a birthday present.
Helene rubbed his arm, reassuring him.
Peter could not help but admire her at the moment, even more than he did when they were in his bed that morning. She looked lovely in her large, oversized cashmere sweater and woolen tights. Her frame looked smaller in the oversized sweater than she was actually. Her hair waving loose on her shoulders, and some of her hair had come in front of her partially covering her forehead on the sides.
He recollected his go-to picture of her. He moved forward and used his fingers to pull her hair aside from her forehead. Then slipped his hand behind her head, through her hair and his other hand moved behind her back, around the waist. He came close enough to get her within an inch of his lips and said, “In that case, may I check out my birthday present again.”
Without her confirming, he planted his lips on her. He pressed hard enough for her to feel the urgency. Taken by surprise, she kissed him back. His kissing grew steadily and became impassioned. On her part, she felt as if it was she who had permitted him. She let him have his kiss and reasoned that if he had done it once, another kiss won’t hurt.
As they kissed, his tongue lurked on her lips and urged her to open. A couple of moments later, Peter’s tongue was inside her mouth, and his tongue was on a survey of his mother’s mouth. She allowed him to roam in her mouth, and when his urgency settled, she licked his tongue, and he played with hers. His hands were respectable to hold her neck and firmly keep her face on his and the other hand on her back, tightly keeping her attached to his belly.
Every few seconds, they would switch the tilt on their heads in opposite directions to find a better angle, and then they would switch back, and then again tilt it to look for an improved reach inside the others’ mouth.
They parted for air, and he went forward again to enter her mouth after a couple of quick breaths. As was expected, she kept her lips closed and did not let him enter again, but neither did she step back nor tilt her head away. She let him kiss another ten kisses on her closed lips, kissing him in return for every one that he planted on her. Disappointed only just a little, he rejoiced that he was kissing his mother and moved sideways to kiss her cheeks, and then her eyes and then to her nose. He finally settled down in her neck on the side and held her in full embrace. His lips found skin as her oversized sweater was way lower on her arm, leaving her shoulder bare.
Ernst noisily came down the stairs and came in through the door. His climb down the stairs made them break the hug.
Ernst wished, “Happy Birthday, Peter,” as they sat for breakfast.
“Thank you, Dad,” Peter replied.
“What do you want for your birthday? A present?” Ernst asked. Helene moved behind him in the kitchen, now on Ernst’s side for this chat.
Peter replied, “I’m okay Dad. I’m 21. Besides, I already got my gift from Mom.”
Ernst surprised, looked back towards Helene, and asked, “Really? Why did you tell him without me?”
Peter looked at the both of them expectantly. The looks on their faces told him that it was a rhetorical question. They both knew he wanted a car for the longest time.
Helene shrugged. Ernst dangled a key and handed it over to Peter, who made sure his surprise did not seem as fresh to his dad.
“Thank you, Dad. Awesome. I love you both,” Peter said.
He eyed his mother and silently mouthed a ‘thank you’ to her. She, in return, glared at him for being cheeky in front of his dad.
All through the morning, Peter played with his car, checking out its features, setting up its Bluetooth connection, and then took it for a spin for nearly a hundred miles.
By afternoon, he was back home before lunch. Both Ernst and Helene were waiting for him, as he excitedly told them, “I love you guys, very very much. I just love the car. I wish I could take it with me to Berlin.”
They were both pleased that he had liked his car.
They all had a wonderful lunch together. It was always a pleasure having Peter in the house. He was so energetic and lively, at the same time polite and well mannered. He brought happiness in the family, and both Ernst and Helene were glad that he was home.
Post Lunch, Peter hung around in the ground floor living room with his Dad, while Helene went up to rest for a while. They discussed a lot about his college and Berlin. Late in the afternoon, Peter caught up with his mother in the first-floor sitting room where she was reading and asked, “Should I start the fire, Mom. It’s getting cold.”
Helene was wearing the same oversized cashmere sweater. Her bare shoulders peeked out from the sweater’s neck that was large enough for her to slip out from should she want to, and its long sleeves were floppy around her arms. The sweater reached her bums from below.
She responded, “yes, please,” realizing that it was a bit colder than earlier.
It took Peter about ten minutes to adjust the fire and have it going. He joined Helene on the sofa and took the seat near her head. As she read, his hands caressed her hair and her head slowly. Loving the care he was giving her, she removed the cushion from under her head and shuffled up to take his lap, to rest her head on his thigh.
His access to her head became easier, and his hand could stroke a lot more than just her hair. He lined his caresses around her face, her cheeks, and her forehead. Lovingly, he pulled back the hair from her forehead, one strand at a time.
With his excitement growing with every passing minute, he upped the stakes and brought his other hand to her neck from her front. His right palm facing upwards cupped her face. With both his hands holding her head, he lovingly looked down towards her face. Impossible to continue reading with his arm crossing her chest to go up to her neck, her hands fell down on her sides – she looked up as he was lustily looking into her eyes.
“Can I check out my present again.” He asked.
She was going to scold him for his cheekiness, but she loved him dearly. She wanted to let him have anything he wanted. They had already kissed a couple of times since morning, and another won’t hurt. She reasoned it is his birthday and let a growing boy with extra hormones have his fun for a day. Surprisingly, she felt the urge to kiss him as much as he wanted to kiss her.
He lifted her head without waiting for her answer, even though it was clear her response was one hundred percent affirmative. Her lips came in contact mid-way with his, as he lowered his face into hers. His lips and tongue went to business almost instantly. He moved his tongue inside her mouth with a pace that was many notches lower than his earlier kisses. He slowed down on the hunger and relished her mouth as if he was having the time of his life. He paid great attention to her lips, started by sucking the upper lip. He went inside her mouth again only to withdraw and suck her lower lip. He entered her mouth again, to withdraw and to bite into her lower lip hard enough for his teeth to dig in but light enough to not let it rip.
He went into her mouth, sucked on her tongue, and goaded her tongue back into his mouth. Once there, her tongue did its job of investigating his mouth. They played the to-and-fro game. Their kiss became way more intense than their earlier hijinks. He had slowed his pace to woo her. With passion growing in both of them, she was warming up to the new normal of Peter kissing him.
They parted mutually, and Peter allowed her to move back on his lap, respectfully. He did not pursue, nor did he rush her. He was feeling better about it. Helene smiled back, looking up into his face with a motherly warmth and love.
She lifted the book back to read, but her mind was no more into it. She kept thinking about what she was doing, or rather what she was letting Peter do. She had reasoned it was his birthday gift, and now her reasoning had fashioned around his gift enhancing into a full day of kissing. That meant there was more to come.
Indeed there was, Peter cornered his mother at least three more times the rest of the evening, once even in the restaurant where they had gone for dinner to celebrate his birthday. The thrill of getting kissed in public by her son was too much for Helene. She flinched when he did it but did not back out at all. Ernst had begged off to go to the loo and Peter staked his claim with Helene. Of course, they paid little heed to the people in the restaurant nor did anyone bother to look at their show of mutual affection.
By the time they were back home and turned in for the day, Peter did not get any other chance to kiss his mother again. His dad was around the whole time. Ernst and Helene changed for the night and read for a little while, before sleeping. Peter had been anxious all day and by eleven in the night he was horny as hell. He lazily laid in his bed under the covers without a t-shirt. He had his pajama on him, but he was without any underwear. His hands playing with his dick as he recollected his accomplishments of the day.
Around an hour later, Helene shut her magazine as if finishing it and told Ernst, “Let me say good night to Peter and come.”
She did not bother waiting for Ernst’s response and was walking towards the door before he could think of something to tell her. She also did not bother picking a nightgown even while her nightie was high enough not to be worn in front of their son.
Ernst let it pass.
She entered his room after knocking lightly twice that he could barely hear. He saw her at the door. Light from the sitting room allowed him to soak in her silhouette as his room was dark. She walked slowly towards him, even as his hands withdrew from under the waistband of his pajama.
“Wanted to wish you good night,” explaining her arrival, she walked the ten feet between the door and his head.
By the time she reached the bed and sat next to him on its edge, he had lifted himself from his shoulders and had arched up.
Helene said, “good night” and bent down on his face to kiss him on the forehead. He let her kiss the forehead, and as she was retreating he stopped her from the shoulders using both his hands. Peter pulled her to his lips without any charade. As he kissed her, his hands went up her neck, cupping her jaw, and held her head to his lips. His other hand roamed around her back to find a comfortable parking place. The pressure from his lips and his hands were suggestive and not forced. The couple of kisses they exchanged on the lips naturally progressed to tonguing. The light coming through the door broke the darkness in his bedroom and almost hid the desire in their eyes.
Sufficiently later, with no one giving up, he slowly started moving back on the bed, and his hands behind her clearly conveyed that she was to follow. And follow, she did. He lay on his back, and she was sitting near his hips, bent on top of him kissing with her tongue in his mouth. Her hands found support on his either side, on the mattress. He wrapped his hands behind her and pulled her on to the bed.
Their lips parted briefly as she rolled on top of him, and they did not stop turning until she was in the middle of the bed and he spun along with her and kept on facing her. She did not say anything when he took her lips again. Their kissing and necking were way needier than it was in the morning at the same location.
His lips finally got parked on her neck, and they hugged and stayed put as if struggling to go ahead. Eventually, the moment passed, and they lay face to face.
Helene said, “I should go,” but made no effort at all to move.
Peter waited a long minute before realizing she was waiting for his permission, and he said, “It’s a few minutes until midnight, and its still my birthday technically.”
She smiled back at him, and he took it as permission to go ahead. He started kissing her again, and it was well past midnight before they stopped their session, panting for air and sweaty with lust.
When Helene returned to her room, Ernst had already dozed off. Helene woke him up sufficiently to demand sex. She ravenously took charge of the fucking that night and rode him like a woman in heat.
———
The next morning, Peter met with Helene at the breakfast table. He was chirpy and upbeat. Ernst had already left for office by the time Peter came down.
Peter greeted his mother, “good morning, Mom.”
“Good morning, Peter. Someone’s in a good mood.” Helene remarked.
“I had the best birthday ever.” he stressed on ‘ever’, as he walked towards his Mom and took her in his arms.
He planted a hot scorching kiss on her lips. On the second kiss, he moved his hands behind her shoulders and brought them up on her back near her neck. Before he could go for a third, Helene put her hands on his chest, lightly pushing him, but not with force or disgust. She said, “Peter, mmm. I thought we had agreed it was your birthday yesterday and….”
“yes indeed. My birthday present that I could kiss you. You can’t take that back, can you?” he asked rhetorically with his twisted logic, claiming if Helene had allowed him to kiss her as a birthday present, then it was his gift to keep. He was going to kiss her all he wanted.
He came back down again on her lips, even while his mother frowned at his twisted rationale. But she loved him so much, and there wasn’t anything that she could deny him. In this rare show of brattiness, he had reasoned that her mouth was his birthday gift. Still rolling it in her mind, she kissed him back.
“mmm,” only lame protests came back from Helene.
Peter didn’t need to respond. He just went on and played with his gift. His tongue licked her lips, and eventually found entry.
She let him have his win, for now. She decided to talk to him later and for that moment got lost in the kiss.
Their tongues playing whole-heartedly and their hands behind each other, holding each other with steady inward pressure. Peter switched pace and came out to suck her lower lip first, and then he moved back in after a long slow seduction. After many seconds he came back out and repeated the work on her upper lip before going back in.
His hands behind her wrapped completely around her waist to reel her into his body; she complied.
They were both panting by the time he was through. Helene brought her hands between them and put pressure against her will to push his chest back.
“All right, buster. Calm down.” She said.
Peter’s eyes were loaded with want, and it gave her shivers to think that he would desire her sexually.
“Mom,” he wanted to say something but held back.
“Okay. mister. That’s it. now sit down and have your breakfast.” She mock reprimanded him.
Around later that afternoon, Helene was in the sitting room when Peter joined her. He had returned from showing off his car to his friend Mack. He came and informed her that he would be going out for the evening with his friends.
Peter sat next to her head as the previous day and scooted under her head on his own. As she raised her head to rest it back on his lap, he thrust one hand under her head, opening his palm. His other hand cupping her chin. She knew what was coming.
He lowered his head as their eyes looked into each others’. He gave a light kiss first and withdrew. Her eyes had closed, and he knew she wanted more, and he went to business. His lips retook possession of her lipstick laden petals. He devoured her lips as if her lipstick was edible, before entering her mouth with hunger.
She loved the fact that he knew how to kiss and woo a girl. He could be aggressive, and he could be slow; he could be loving, and he could be demanding. Importantly, she was biased because he was her son, so he anyhow could not do anything wrong from her perspective.
He kissed her for twenty minutes by which time he had covered every part of her face, eventually stopping at her lips again. When he did, they were both breathing hard.
Later that evening, he had kissed her seductively enough to work up her desire. By the time Ernst came, they had kissed four times throughout the day.
He welcomed his father back with a, “Hey Dad,” and left for his evening out.
He apparently left for his friend Mack’s place, but he had not gone far before he turned the car under a shade and returned walking towards their house. He sat in the far end of the garden and hooked on the camera to check if they would use the glory hole.
Fifteen minutes later, he saw his father light up the ground floor gateway room, and he was in his pajamas. Peter’s camera was facing the sideboard rack, which doubled as a hidden door. When Ernst entered the room, he left the door open.
Another twenty minutes later, he exited the glory hole room and shut the door before flicking the lights off.
The entire timeline was logged, and Peter took notes of his phone.
Having got what he wanted, there was no reason for him to stay out there. He returned back soon enough but still about an hour after he had left home, and went to his room.
His mother appeared another half an hour later to wish him good night.
She sat next to him on the edge of the bed and lowered herself on his face to kiss him good night. Having kissed his forehead, it was clear he won’t let her go back up. His hands grasped her head and brought it to his lips. They kissed passionately for a long while.
Like the previous day, Peter pulled his mother on top and then rolled her to the middle of the bed. They lay in each other’s arms kissing and necking for almost twenty minutes. By the time both were panting and buzzing.
Eventually, Helene took control and said, “Peter, you know this can’t go on.”
Peter knew this was coming. He had built innumerable reasons in his head as to why it could. But he merely mumbled.
“Peter, I’ll tell you what. Until you are here this holiday. I can kiss you good night, every night. But that’s it.” She was informing him and not merely suggesting.
Peter knew better than not to stare a gift horse in the face, but responded with a counter-bargain, “How about good morning and good night.” He grinned.
She gave in, “okay, but that is it. If you pull anything else, then you are off completely.”
He happily agreed to the conciliation.
But he did not let her go that night without french kissing her again a few more times.
From the next morning onward, they found themselves looking forward to a passionate session of good morning kisses at breakfast and an equally steamy bundle of good night kisses at night.
If ever Ernst was home in the morning or on the weekend, Helene would come to wake Peter up and always found him up and fresh, brushed and clean, waiting for his mother. Their kisses were getting steamier, but his hands maintained respect and stayed in acceptable territories. Especially the night kisses were a lot saucy, and he would have her stay in bed with him for long.
Each evening Peter would move out with one or the other reason and monitored his parents’ glory hole room’s use. He narrowed down to some randomness, but while capturing all other elements, he figured weekends were the best bet for his plan to roll.
Unwittingly he was also working up his Mom, and he did know this, but by the time Ernst was home, she was looking forward to a good fucking session. Not all of it in the glory hole.
It was Peter’s duty to install the Christmas lights, a week before Christmas. The tree was jointly decorated by all three of them. In the entire affair of setting up the lights outside, Peter had made a couple of his own installations.
Two days before Christmas, on his bed, Helene was kissing him good night in all earnest.
After giving her some very hot set of kisses, he demanded, “Mom, it isn’t fair with just a good night kiss and good morning kiss on Christmas.”
Helene smiled and practically agreed with him that he deserved more because he had remained a gentleman on their pact, all through the two weeks since his birthday.
“Okay, Let’s say you are allowed special kisses on Christmas eve, and on Christmas.” Helene gave him a scorcher right there. When they parted their lips, she added, “But only under a mistletoe.”
The night before Christmas-eve was a Sunday. Late afternoon, Peter found an excuse to meet friends and left.
He hastily moved towards the parking spot hidden from public view and snuck back to the house. He had left the back door open for himself to sneak back in. He rested in the third guest bedroom on the ground floor. He shut it’s door completely; he had earlier jammed the door lock with tape so it won’t click making noise while being opened or closed. The door was right across the door, which his father would have to use if they chose to play in the glory hole room that night. A big if.
As his study would suggest, they did use the glory hole room that night. Helene came down first and entered her side of the room, though Peter could not have known this. He only found out about the kickoff when Ernst came to the second room and clicked open the sideboard door, in direct view of Peter’s camera. As had become his habit, he left the door open, considering there was no one at home.
As soon as Ernst entered the glory hole room, Peter started taking his trousers off along with his boxers. He played with his dick, and the anticipation and anxiety of what he was going to do had him rock hard in seconds. He fished out the remote and pressed the button.
Their doorbell rang.
From the insulated room walls, Helene could not hear anything except for a very low tone ‘ding’ that came through the hole. Ernst, with his door open, could hear it loud enough to respond. As soon as he heard the bell, he scampered for his pajama bottoms and pulled them up, wore his shirt back on, and briskly walked towards the door.
Peter, with mobile in his hand, saw Ernst exit, and even before Ernst had crossed the hallway to the door, Peter tiptoed to the glory hole room.
He was blessed with a view he had been dreaming for the past couple of months, probably more. Till now, everything had gone as per plan. Without wasting any time, he approached his mother’s spread legs. He could see her pussy that was nicely trimmed, as he had expected, having seen the photos earlier. She was wearing nothing on her legs, or her feet that were held up in clasps, on the side of the upper hole.
Without much ado, he lined up his cock to enter her pussy. He looked at the stop-watch on his wrist and knew the timeline. He had no time to waste, and he knew it. He wanted to relish this heavenly feeling till death, and he wanted to record it in his memory for the rest of his life. He tapped his dick on her pussy once to let her know what was coming.
Risking everything he had, he proceeded as slow as he could and gave her an inch at a time.
He gave a throaty grunt that didn’t make noise but traveled through his cock in her.
She returned the compliment with a moan that traveled back through her pussy to him.
After two slow shoves, he started plunging back into her repeatedly. In under fifty seconds that he had given himself, he gave his mother a hundred thrusts.
He sped up with the fucking like a manic and just pushed repeatedly as if his life depended on it.
On his phone, he looked at the second-camera visuals from the main door. Dot on the fifty seconds marker, he withdrew and quickly bent down to kiss her pussy before rushing out the door.
She moaned in rage, “UUNNGHGHH.” not believing her ill-luck on getting fucked so enthusiastically and then bereaved of the exhilarating experience, all of a sudden.
From the main door camera visuals, he saw his dad had turned and started on his way back inside. Peter was safe in the gateway room and he hid behind the bed. He lay down on the far end, which was not visible on entry to, or exit from, that room.
Obviously, his dad had wasted a minute and a half looking for someone at the door, but he could not find anyone. Fuming he came back to his wife and he shucked his clothes again to restart where he had left. Little did he know Helene was squirming for a reentry eagerly.
Peter gave his dad some two minutes before pressing on his remote again. The bell rang again. For good measure, Peter pressed it one additional time. What followed was his furious dad going to the door, back in his pajamas.
Peter had not lost an iota of his stiffness. As soon as his dad was in the hallway, Peter stood back up and tiptoed into the glory hole room to find a squirming mom. He did not have any reason to waste time again. He reentered her in one swift motion.
Peter’s thrusts were urgent and powerful. He held her thighs in each hand for adding support while he pounded his mother with passion.
Peter looked at the camera streaming on the phone and saw his father looking around. He did not risk it and withdrew in exactly one-minute, and went back to his position behind the bed.
His mother furious like hell, on being hung up like she was.
His dad fuming as ever, on some kid spoiling his session, was mumbling while he came back into the gateway room. He took it out on her pussy. He was slamming into her as if on a mission. His goal was to cum before another doorbell rings.
The next time the doorbell rang, Ernst was adamant not to budge from his position. He pumped until he had climaxed in her pussy, panting to keep himself steady. Ernst continued to shove into her, as had become his habit, of late, to shove repeatedly until he would go limp so that Helene could finish.
Helene’s clasping pussy and spasming legs had already indicated to him that she had climaxed a major one before even he could shoot his release in her pussy.
As the bell rang persistently, Ernst was almost sure that there was indeed someone at the door this time. Obviously, it was expected of him to unhook Helene’s feet before he left the room, especially if they had finished. But ignoring the irritating bell was difficult, and he went to answer the door hastily.
With his dad in the hallway, Peter went into the glory hole room and reentered Helene. It had been a long while when Ernst had double tapped her in one night. She was pleasantly surprised. And the aggression the thrusts told her, she should get ready for a better one the second time around.
With each thrust, Peter stayed longer inside his mother. He pushed in her reaching bottom, stayed there for two seconds before coming out and reentering with similar force. The pumping was groundbreaking for Helene. She had had a major climax the first time around because of the prolonged pumping she had received in the earlier session. For her second fuck, the climb for her was much faster.
As soon as Peter reached the bottom with a forceful thrust, he stayed there for a couple of seconds before coming out and reentering with the same energy. For a minute, he gave her some thirty such thrusts, and she was panting for more. The stopwatch on his wrist told him that his fifty seconds were up, but the suction of his mother’s pussy told him to stay where he was. Peter was going to climax at any moment.
He looked at the camera streaming on his phone, and saw his dad and shut the main door to come back in. While Ernst was in the main hall, walking back, Peter pressed the remote a couple of times again, taking a huge risk. He prayed to God to help his dad guard the main door as his wife gets fucked by his son. God answered his prayers, and Ernst hastily rushed back to the main door, from midway to catch the sneaky kids who were pranking him. Not finding anyone, Ernst even walked a few yards further out to look for the perpetrators. He stood there for a minute to see any shadow or movement.
Peter made the best use of the next couple of minutes and gave his all to his mother.
As soon as he shot his load in her, his mother spasmed on his dick. Peter shoved even faster inside her, heightening her pleasure to the next level.
Eventually, when Peter slowed the thrusts, his cock remained hard inside Helene, and she was surprised at that. Little hoping, can he do it one more time?…please, please, she begged God. Her head was spinning. God did not answer her prayer.
Peter withdrew from her pussy, and bent in between her legs, kissing her pussy lightly before rushing out to the room outside. Ernst returned enraged and mumbling. He unclasped Helene quickly and shut the lights and then the door to exit. Helene did not need any other help physically, and she retreated from her side of the glory hole room, pulling her gown back on.
With mixed family juices flowing from her pussy downwards, Helene joined Ernst upstairs and smiled at him as he sat on the sofa in the sitting room. She was heading to the bathroom for a hot shower and to clean up the leaking liquids on her thighs. He was glad that Helene had enjoyed herself and did not seem upset with the interruptions.
“I’m sorry we were interrupted a couple of times,” he said.
She smiled and kept on walking because the juices were trickling way below her knee pits.
Later that night, when she came to Peter’s room to kiss him good night, her excitement was contagious. She kissed him a good night as if she meant it, taking lead. She stayed on top of him instead of rolling off to the middle of the bed and paid no attention to his dick poking her pussy mound.
He laid some thick juicy kisses on his mother, and they made love again, this time with their mouths.
He was in another world and thanked God for the enormous help. He knew, to keep his game on, in the Glory Hole room, he will have to improve on his game plan.