Mommy Adriana, I Will Obey You
Keywords: Adriana,, Mommy, You, Will, Obey, I,
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"Hmmmm, yes Greta, oh yes, that's good. Andrea honey, suck my nipples, suck them good." I felt her hands in my hair, stroking me, pushing and pulling me, driven by her insane lust. Oh, I had opened Pandoras box and she never be satisfied before she had completely transformed into a girl.
But I remember very clearly that I was standing up, with a cucumber I'd brought in from the kitchen stuck up inside me, when the phone rang.
I motioned Peter urgently to turn the sound down on the TV, then I picked up the phone, with the cucumber still in me.
It was Peter's mum.
She wanted to talk to Peter, of course, but I could see he was in no state to talk to her. So I said he'd gone to a party that some young friends of mine were having, and he might be late home.
She got a bit sniffy about that -- I've no idea why. (Wasn't he allowed to go to parties?) Then she said that she and her husband were back from Switzerland and that she'd drive down and pick Peter up around eleven o'clock tomorrow morning. The cow didn't even have the grace to thank me for looking after him! I felt tempted to tell her what he'd really been doing for the last few days, but luckily she rang off.
It was an odd moment. I was standing by the phone naked with a large cucumber up me while Peter, still wanking gently and glancing occasionally at the muted TV screen, looked a question at me.
"It was your mum." I said. "She's picking you up tomorrow, around eleven. I suppose we ought to get some sleep."
But we were both unwilling to go.
"Well," I said. "Maybe we could have just one more wank before we call it a night."
So that's what we did.
Actually, we had more than one more, and we didn't get to bed before about two in the morning. By that time Peter was completely exhausted -- sex can do that to you, of course -- and I had to push him up the stairs and into his bedroom. When he got there, he just collapsed on his bed, with a beatific smile on his face, and fell instantly asleep.
I thought I ought to tidy up a bit downstairs, but when I looked at the mess in the living room I couldn't face it and decided to leave it until the morning. As I was leaving the room again, I noticed the blue panties lying on the coffee table and, since Peter hadn't actually come in them, I decided on a whim to slip them on again. So I wore them to bed for the second night running. I slept well, and don't remember any dreams.
I suppose it had been in the back of my mind that we might oversleep and still be in bed when Peter's mother arrived, but, as it happened, I woke up at my usual time, around seven, and Peter was up and about not long after. So we had plenty of time for showers, and then I cooked a big farewell breakfast. (We were both ravenous. That's another result of having lots of sex, of course.)
When we finished breakfast, I just looked at Peter and thought what a change last night's masturbation orgy had made in him. Although he wasn't saying much, he was relaxed, cheerful and confident. I felt relaxed too. When I felt the ghost of a tingle in my pussy, I absently, almost unconsciously, slipped my hand up under my skirt to stroke it. He noticed, and grinned at me.
"I don't suppose you need a wank this morning," I said.
"Well, it's not urgent, or anything," he said. "But I can do it if you want me to."
I thought for a second. We still had plenty of time left. It was only half past eight.
"Well," I said slowly, "if you want to, I might give you a special treat, since you're going away."
He was suddenly all attention.
"Yes?" he asked.
"Well," I said again. "if you want to, I'll let you come in my mouth."
His face lit up.
"Really?" he said.
"Really," I said.
Have you seen how they do come-in-the-mouth in porn films? The girl kneels down in front of the man, with her mouth wide open like a goldfish, and he wanks and wanks for hours before he manages to let his spunk go. (By this time, she's probably got lockjaw.) And all the time he's wanking, she's moaning as if she's close to coming herself, despite the fact that nothing's happening to her erogenous zones at all. And when he does finally shoot into her mouth, she orgasms! It's amazing! And totally improbable, of course.
That's not how we did it.
It was very soft and gentle. I stayed in my chair at the breakfast table, and Peter came and stood beside me. He took his cock out of his jeans, and for the first time since I'd known him I saw that it wasn't fully erect -- though it was more than halfway there, at least. I slipped my hand up under my skirt again and played with myself gently through my panties. (I was still wearing the blue see-thru ones. I'd grown very attached to them for some reason -- and they were getting so ripe now that they were in danger of getting attached to me!) I watched quietly while Peter stroked his cock an inch or so from my face.
He got hard again very soon, of course -- and then his wanking became a bit more urgent. I watched as his fingers stroked and squeezed the shaft, and the eye in the end of his cock seemed to wink and glisten. Then, when I thought he must be close to coming, I just put my slightly parted lips against his cock end and breathed on it, whispering:
"Come when you're ready, Peter. Come in my mouth."
And after a moment, he came.
It was warm and salty and there was a lot. It all went into my mouth, and then quite a lot dribbled out again. I was wearing an old black top, so I was happy to let his spunk drool out of my mouth and down my front. I made a little show of it. I wanted to give him a sexy memory to wank over when he was back at university.
And then the doorbell rang.
I was in no fit state to answer the door, so I motioned to Peter to go and peek out of the kitchen window, to see who was there. He went with his cock still in his hand and twitched the curtain back a little.
"Oh, God!" he said. "It's my mum! She's early!"
I had to think quickly.
"Put your cock away," I told him. "Go and let her in, but try to keep her talking in the hall, for a bit. When you do bring her in, don't -- repeat don't - take her into the living room. It's covered in spunk and other stuff from last night. Bring her in here instead - but give me as long as you can first."
He nodded and put himself away. Then he went out into the hall and I heard:
"Hello, Mum. You're early, aren't you? How's Dad?"
The problem was, of course, that I had spunk all down my front. If she hadn't been in the hall, I could have nipped upstairs and changed quickly -- but she would have wondered what was going on if I'd dashed upstairs without stopping to say hello first. There was nothing for it. I had to improvise.
I hurriedly went to the fridge and took out a carton of milk. I deliberately spilled quite a lot of it on the work top next to the sink, then I poured a lot more down my front. It was lucky I did it so fast. I'd hardly finished when she bustled in, carrying all before her, as they say.
"You must be Mrs Scott," she said in a fruity voice. "Thank you so much for looking after --"
Then she stopped, having noticed my soaking front and the milk everywhere.
"Have you had an accident?" she asked imperiously, sounding not unlike Lady Bracknell.
I waved my hands about a bit.
"Yes," I said. "I was opening some milk, and it's gone everywhere. If you'll excuse me a minute, I think I ought to go and change."
"I'll clean the floor up," Peter volunteered. "You sit down here for a moment, Mum," he said, indicating the chair I'd been sitting on when he'd wanked himself off into my mouth, not five minutes before.
"Thanks, Peter," I said. "Sorry about this. Won't be long," I said to Lady Bracknell, as I inched past her on my way out.
And I fled the kitchen.
They went quite soon after that - which was lucky, of course, because I hated Peter's mother. She probably didn't take kindly to being received in the kitchen, but I explained that the painters were coming to decorate the living room, and all the furniture was under dust covers. That got a sniff, of course, as if nobody should have the painters in when Lady Bracknell came to call.
Peter went upstairs and got his bag. Then, since his mum had refused coffee or tea, I ushered her out into the hall. Just as they were going out through the front door, I said: "Oh, Peter, There's something I meant to give you. I almost forgot. Can you come here a minute?"
It was a risk, of course, but his mother stayed at the front door. Peter and I nipped back into the kitchen and I hurriedly slipped the blue panties off and pressed them into his hand.
"For God's sake, don't let her see," I hissed.
He grinned, raised them to his nose, inhaled deeply, and then slipped them into his pocket.
"Thanks, Amanda," he whispered. "Thanks for everything."
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Keywords: Adriana,, Mommy, You, Will, Obey, I,