Mother's Cottage at Christmas Ch. 02

I woke up with a start, hearing the church bells from Little Oakden's church (where I'd spent the previous afternoon being driven mad via a vibrator) and sat upright in bed.

Next to me, my Mother, blonde, beautiful, my lover and domme lay next to me, fast asleep. She always slept more deeply than I did.

It was Christmas Day! Santa had been. Despite being close to my 30s the magic of Christmas morning had not dissipated. I looked at the end of my bed and noticed my stocking bulging.

My stocking was not a conventional one, my Mother had for a while now insisted on me using a thigh-high patent black leather boot as my Christmas stocking.

The perversity of it was mine and my Mother's private joke, but, as I slid the stocking down from the end of the bed to me, I felt the excitement every boy and girl does no matter what their age.

I rummaged around inside the opening of the boot, meant for my Mother's thigh, rather than my hand and started to pull out gifts.

There was the usual mixture. Deodorants, socks, a voucher for Amazon and then, rather delightfully, something I was not expecting. It was a black, rubber cock ring, designed to fit over my penis but with another hoop designed to fit around my balls as well.

In the early December morning of Christmas Day, I studied the ring and began to feel very excited indeed. I got out of bed and showered. I thought about the spanking I'd received from Mother the night before and beneath the shower my cock began to stiffen. I leaned back against the cool tiles and stroked my stiff prick, working my hand up and down the shaft thinking about the softness of my Mother's breasts pressing against my face smothering me.

With my cock now nice and erect, I stood naked in the bathroom and pulled the cock ring down my prick and tucked my balls in. The black rubber gleamed against my skin. Tugging on my cock a few times I sighed.

To wear, I selected my jeans and a woolen Christmas jumper. Beneath my black, silken boxer shorts my cock ring was in place, keeping my cock and balls nicely tightened.

I knew my Mother wanted to sleep and as her sub I knew it was my task to get things moving in the kitchen. After last night's spank and wank I was feeling quite relaxed. I selected Radio 3 from Alexa and set to work.

Christmas carols played from the radio as I set about my tasks. Coffee first and then the peeling of the potatoes for Christmas dinner. They needed time to boil and rest before roasting.

The coffee was ready and so I served Mother breakfast in bed. She grinned with delight as I brought the tray over to her and kissed her gently on the lips. She sat up, her breasts looking snug in the red satin chemise she had chosen to sleep in.

"Thank you, darling," she said. "And are you, enjoying your present from Santa?"

"A little tight, but nothing I can't handle..." I told her.

"Darling, it's only for me to handle!" She smirked and I chuckled. Her hand gently stroked the outline of my bulge in my jeans. I moaned. She pulled her hand back. "Off you pop."

Reluctantly, I went back to the kitchen. Mum needed her coffee and I had a turkey to wrestle with. Washing my hands, I set to work.

An hour later, I had the oven on and I'd been busy basting and stuffing. The kitchen was thick with warm air and I was wiping the sweat from my brow as I heard the CLICK CLACK of stiletto heels on the stone floor.

Mother had dressed in the most beautiful and figure-hugging red dress. it was long sleeved and wrapped around her breasts revealing a generous amount of cleavage. It curved down her body and ended mid-thigh. On her legs were a pair of smooth black stockings (my Mother never wore tights, she swore against them) and on her feet were her favourite Kurt Geiger court shoes with a gold 4 inch heel. Her red lips smiled at me and her earrings sparkled.

She walked towards me and her arms linked over my shoulders. "Merry Christmas, my love," she told me. I held her waist and we kissed, our tongues intertwining. My cock strained aginst the ring and pressed against her. Mother purred against me.

Pulling away I went to the fridge and liberated a bottle of champagne. Mother insisted on opening it herself and she giggled as the cork popped. I loved seeing the white foam drip over her manicured fingers. Staring seductively at me she sucked the champagne from the end of her finger.

"I'll take mine in the living room," she said.

I poured the champagne carefully into a flute glass and carried it into the living room. I'd set a fire going and it felt cosy. Mother sat in her armchair, legs crossed. I presented the glass to her with a little bow and a smile on my face. "Thank you, Darling. You may kneel".

Doing as instructed, I dropped to my knees. Mother stretched her leg in front of me so that her heel was directly in front of my face. Smiling to herself, she then dipped her fingers into the champagne flute and then flicked drops of champagne on to her raised high heel. "Lick it off," she instructed.

I leaned forward and put my tongue to work, licking up the drops of champagne from the red stiletto. My cock pulsed and ached with need. I worked my mouth over the toe of the shoe, sucking on it like a dummy. Slowly my Mother pulled her foot back.

Sitting forward on the chair she moved her heel towards my rock hard cock, bulging through my jeans. Running the toe of the stiletto over my cock felt like exquisite agony and I gasped and shivered as her toe moved up and down. "Does my little boy want to cum?" she asked. I nodded in response. "Aww poor baby, not yet, little one..." She pulled her foot back and I grunted in disappointment.

"You may go back to the kitchen. And help yourself to a glass of the champagne." She winked at me and unsteadily got up and walked back towards the kitchen, my cock still throbbing, held in place by the rubber ring.

The mixture of the tease and a glass of champagne left me feeling a little giddy as I finished off the Christmas lunch. However, I persevered and an hour later I had a roast turkey, complete with vegetables ready to go.

I told Mother lunch was ready and held her chair for her as she came to the dining table. Despite there only being two of us I had wanted to impress her and so had gone to town with the napkins, crackers, sauces, gravy and table decorations. I cut the turkey and then dished-up the rest of the lunch. I had sat down for barely two minutes when Mother's heel started rubbing back and forth against my leg. As I tried to eat my food, I could feel my cock throbbing in my trousers. I gripped my knife and then, taking a deep breath I looked up at my Mother. She was grinning mischievously.

"Permission to, um, make myself more comfortable?" I asked her.

"You may," she grinned and took a sip of wine. I reached down and unzipped the fly on my jeans. My red, aching cock bounced out of my jeans, the black ring at its base keeping me engorged. "Is that better, darling?" asked Mother and she moved her hand down to my cock, lightly stroking the tip with her fingers. I let out a deep moan.

"Does that feel better, sweetie? When Mummy touches your cock? Does it make it feel nice?"

I groaned in agreement, sprawling back on the dining chair while she pulled and squeezed my tender prick. She pulled away once more. "Eat your vegetables, darling, there's a good boy."

My mind in a haze, I tried to concentrate on eating dinner. I just about made it through the whole Christmas lunch, with my Mother occassionally squeezing my cock. Standing up to clear the plates, my Mother suddenly handed me my phone.

"You need to call your father."

I rolled my eyes. My father had split up with my Mother years ago, but they were still on good terms. Sitting back down in the dining chair I dialled his number and waited for him to pick up.

Meanwhile my Mother watched me and stroked the toe of her red high heel up and down my leg. My Dad picked up the phone and I wished him a 'Merry Christmas'. We began chatting and Mum's stroking of my leg got harder. My squeezed cock was still bouncing in front of me and I did my best to concentrate on the phone conversation. My Dad asked me about work and as I tried to explain to him what I'd been up to, my Mother stood up and then knelt down in front of me.

My voice caught mid-sentence as my Mother's ruby red lips slid over my cock. I screamed silently in pleasure as my Dad called my name from inside the phone. She slid my cock into her mouth and on reaching its base began to suck.

Stammering something about bad reception in the cottage I tried my best to pretend to my father nothing was happening. Gripping the phone in one hand and the edge of my chair with the other, I cried out as quietly as I could as my Mother sucked on my aching prick. My balls boiled with need, as I did my best to grunt in agreement as my Dad rabbited on about his Christmas plans. The truth was I couldn't tell you what he was saying, I was lost in the tortuous ecstasy of my Mother's lips working around, up and down my cock. My hips arched up to meet my Mother's mouth as the sweet blow job continued to build the pressure in my balls.

God knows what I was saying to my Dad, I didn't care. With a loud 'pop' my Mother pulled her mouth off of my cock. I stared at her in disbelief, how dare she stop now? She was determined to torture me more. As I continued to try and listen to my father's words Mother pulled the red dress up over her hips revealing her black lace stockingtops to me. She pushed back the plates and bowls on the table, sitting on it opposite me, then prodded her stiletto into the base of my balls, while spreading her other leg wide. She wasn't wearing any panties. Again words failed me in my phone conversation as my Mother reached own and started to rub her clitoris in front of me.

Enough was enough. I decided to cut my Dad off. He was wishing me a good Christmas when I think I said "Yeah, talk to you later" before pressing the end call button and tossing the phone on the floor.

My Mother grinned at me "About fucking time."

"Sorry, Mum, he's such a boring old wanker." I didn't ask permission, but instead leaned forward and buried my face between my Mother's thighs. My lips found her pussy and I drove my tongue into her cunt as she rubbed at her clit. She moaned with delight.

"Mmm, darling, the only thing that old wanker ever did for me was you." My tongue and her fingers slid over each other as we rubbed her clit. I moaned in delight as her stockings grazed against my ears. Mother began to moan, moving her hands to my hair pulling on it gently. "Fuck, fuck yes."

I increased the tempo of my tongue, flicking it back and forth over her clit with as much enthusiasm as I could muster. God I loved this woman, I wanted to show her how much.

Mother tugged on my hair and I paused looking up at her. "I want you inside me."

Standing up, I dropped my jeans to the floor and kicked them away. My cock, raw and needy, tethered by the black rubber cock ring bounced in front of me. I didn't need to be told twice. Moving towards my Mother I pushed between her legs and she guided my cock to her wet pussy. I pushed inside her.

"Fuck me, fuck me like that old bastard never could."

I loved hearing my Mother talk like that. My mouth went down to her neck, kissing her up and down as I began to pump inside her. I had to have her, I need to cum inside her. My hands reached up to her cleavage and I pulled the dress down. Her breasts popped out of the dress and I squeezed and mauled them. I banged into my Mother and the table began to shake. Glasses tumbled, the gravy was knocked over, sprouts rolled all over. I didn't care, I felt so good inside her. So tight in her pussy. Her cries were getting higher and louder and I could feel my own orgasm building. Plates clattered to the floor. One smashed. I didn't care. We were getting closer. I was making my Mother cum. I was cumming inside her.

We were both screaming. "FUCK, FUCK, OH FUCK, YES, SHIT-" My balls shook as my orgasm came. Cum boiled out of my balls and shot deep into my Mother. Her cries blended into my own as we rocked and crashed against each other. I felt her pussy contract around me, milking all the semen out of me as I pumped. We rode the waves of orgasm together.

"Good boy," my Mother whispered to me.

"I love you" I whispered back. Our bodies rocked slowly against each other.

I then heard my Mother giggling.

"What is it?" I asked.

"You... have a lot of tidying up to do..."

I grinned and kissed my Mother deeply. Safe and loved in her cottage.