TABOO TALES(erotica)

“Well, I was inspired by seeing you again in your new baby doll. Besides, I bet the batter actually feels good, doesn’t it?” Reluctantly, she nodded, eyes downcast. “Just one more thing, Mother, I promise. It’ll feel great. All you have to do is close your eyes and tilt your head back.” Gently, Matt held the hair at the back of her head and tilted it backward, causing her breasts to thrust outward. He pulled the top of her baby doll away from her and poured the still-hot batter onto the right side of her chest. “Ohhh,” she groaned as the curtain of off-white paste descended onto her right breast, her pelvis shaking against the edge of the counter and banging into his groin. He released the fabric, pulled back the other side, and poured the rest of the ladle onto the left side of her chest. “Uhhh,” she moaned, licking her batter-smeared lips and relishing the wet warmth covering her nipples. “That was very fresh of you, Matthew.”

“Fun with food is now done,” he said as she slowly opened her eyes, staring at him with a mixture of humiliation and awe. He sat at the table, put his legs up on another chair and crossed his arms. “Now take off that wet baby doll, put on your robe and let’s eat.”

She was still leaning against the counter, her groin thrust forward. “You mean, here, with nothing on, in the kitchen, in broad daylight?” she asked, feeling a fresh wave of embarrassment. It was just that the embarrassment was mixed with excitement at the thought of disrobing in front of her son.

Matt simply nodded. “It’s not such a big deal these days. People aren’t so conservative any more. They go to nude beaches all the time.”

“But the robe is wet as well.” He sat there, smiling slightly, impervious to her objection, waiting. Her son was telling her to strip. Why couldn’t she say “No”? After all, it would only be for a few seconds, until she wore the robe.

“Do it,” he said in a stern, no-nonsense voice. “And I’m getting tired of you being so argumentative. Don’t I usually do the things you ask me to?” Slowly, she turned her back to him, her pulse racing from indecision. Impetuously, Matt leapt up and strode to her side, smacking her butt hard. “Don’t make me wait longer,” he warned, walking back to his chair.

Her pulse pounding, slightly dizzy, Janice pulled the shoulder straps down her toned arms. The clinging fabric made a sucking sound when she pulled it off her breasts. She dropped the soggy mass at her feet. It did feel better to have the mess off her. Matt admired her strong shoulder blades and noticed strands of batter dripping off her front. Janice flicked the gunk off her breasts, but she was really doing it to surreptitiously caress her breasts and flick her fingers across her nipples. Her other hand reached into the gooey panties and stroked her slit. A half-minute passed, Matt willing for her to go slowly.

“Now the panties,” he ordered. She stopped fingering herself, frozen. “Or do I have to tell the Dean at school that you parade around at night in a baby doll?” She shuddered at the realization of her inexcusable behavior.

“Matthew, I just thought you’d enjoy it. II wasn’t thinking. Please don’t say anything to anybody! I’ll listen better to what you want, I promise!” Slowly, she hooked her thumbs inside the wet panties and pulled the tight fabric down. The sucking sounded even louder as the fabric was separated from her ass and large pussy lips. When she’d lowered the panties a few inches, he said, “Stop.” Twin strands of the mix dripped down, one from each cunt lip to the panties. God, she looked beautiful, Matt thought, the golden morning sunlight highlighting her ass. Her ass crack looked as if a whole bunch of guys had jerked off on it. “Continue,” he said.

She dragged the panties to her knees, whereupon they collapsed in a soggy heap on the floor. She stepped out of them. Janice felt ashamed but also felt a strange combination of pride, strength and freedom. Proud because she knew she had a great body, strength because she was able to comply with Matt’s wishes, and freedom because it was somehow liberating to be finally standing naked in front of her boy. If she had no boyfriend, why couldn’t she please her son? Besides, there was no doubt she had his full attention, not easy with an impatient teenager.

“Okay? Is that enough?” she asked, turning her head over her shoulder to see him, exposing part of her gooey breast to his ogling.

“No. Pick up that mess.” She spread her feet and began to slowly bend her knees.

“Stop. Stand up straight.” She obeyed. “It’s time for more yoga stretching. Bend from the waist until your hands touch the floor.” She widened her stance for balance and leaned over. He felt hypnotized by her long legs. When her hands touched the bra and panties, he said, “Hold that pose.” He had a perfect view in the sunny kitchen. He would never have believed it. His mother was blatantly exposing her shaved slit to him. Matt was awestruck by the large, reddened, moist lips that extended down and the dusky, dark pink ring of her ass. Thick drops of batter slid down her roseate rear opening and across her labial lips, slowly dripping to the floor. Janice relished the pose, open to her son, because that’s what he wanted. And stretching felt wonderful.

He cleared his throat after a minute passed. “That’s enough.” She picked up the bra and panties, straightened and walked to the sink, eyeing his bulging lap with a smirk. Teenage boys were so easy to turn on! She wrung out the robe and put it on, tying the sash tightly so he wouldn’t see her batter-covered breasts. She made pancakes and bacon and served breakfast while Matt read the morning paper, the air charged with tension.

She was distracted the entire time she cooked, reliving the surreal experience in all its lurid shame. Yet she had loved how improper, how provocative it had been. It was no surprise that the first set of Swedish pancakes she served him was burned and that the bacon was overcooked. When he looked up from the newspaper to see the blackened discs on his plate, he grabbed her wrist. “Mother, look what you did.”

Janice broke out of her daydream. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Matthew!” she cried, ashamed at being too preoccupied to make even simple pancakes properly.

“And the bacon is overcooked.” She looked, aghast.

“Ummm, I’m really sorry,” she muttered. “I’m so scattered.” She removed the offending food and cooked a new batch properly. Matt watched her back, wondering if she, being such an accomplished cook, had overcooked them on purpose, in order to be punished.

They ate quietly. He complimented her on the properly cooked meal. She was acutely aware of the wet robe clinging to her breasts, her nipples hardening. In fact, they were perfectly outlined under the thin fabric. Noting how her nipples grew longer as the wet silk chilled, he looked at her and said, “This is the absolute favorite of all my favorite breakfasts! And you are so much fun to fool around with!” she looked at him, smiling. “However, I will not forget that you blew it with the first batch, wasting good food. Saying you’re sorry is not enough. I’ll have to figure out some punishment, so you don’t wreck breakfast again.”

She laughed nervously. “What do you mean, a punishment? I’m the adult here!”

“As the man in the house, I’m responsible for things. And wasting food is not acting like a responsible adult.”

“What sort of punishment?” she asked in a barely audible voice, breathing shallowly.Exclusive content © by Nô(v)el/Dr/ama.Org.

“You’ll see in good time. At least you won’t be grounded in your room! Or have the car keys taken away.” She looked up from her plate, giving him a long, serious, searching look.