“Then, you said something about wanting to bend me over a bed, pull my skirt up, pull my panties down and use the strap-on on me, or at least I assume you meant the strap-on. Part of that scares me a little bit because I don’t know if something that big is going to hurt me or not, but, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that since you said it. I’ve been visualizing it over and over in my mind….. what I would be wearing, what you would say, and how it would feel. I can just see you doing it to me, just the way you described it. What I’m trying to say is, uh, if it’s possible we could try that today before they get home… and before I have time to change my mind, I would very much like that.”
“And, I hope you weren’t teasing about going to Uncle Mike and Aunt Brenda’s house, either. I’m not just saying that so I can have sex with Aunt Brenda, but also because of Uncle Mike. You already told me we were a lot alike and I think I would like to talk to him about some guy things. Plus, you said something about a girl needing to get used to the taste of a man, and I understood very well exactly what you meant. I’ve tasted Dad’s cum from your pussy and from your panties, and I’ve tasted my own and I didn’t think any of it was yucky. Maybe that means I’m bi-sexual or something, because I’ve thought about other guys before, but, I’m not worried about tasting Uncle Mike — on you or in you, or you know, even from the source.”
I peeked over from time to time to see how SHE was taking all of this. She was being a really good listener and through it all, there was no real outwardly reaction to any of it until I spoke about Uncle Mike. When I did, her eyebrows raised as if I surprised her, and I guess I did. I surprised myself, that’s for sure, since I hadn’t ever mentioned to anyone before that I had thoughts about guys as well as girls. But I meant what I said to her and I fully understood the implication of my remarks.
She hadn’t stopped my emotional outpouring, and for that I was grateful. I guess if I only get forgiveness once, I better go for it all, so I continued.
“I suppose the next few things you already know, or can guess. Yes, I would love it if you could find a way for me to be naked or dressed in panties in front of someone that wouldn’t get all freaked out about it. And yes, that includes dad and Linda. For that matter, I wouldn’t mind seeing them naked, too. What the hell, maybe we should just have the ‘Bobby’s coming out party, or, Bobby wants to be naked and sniff panties while he masturbates in front of everyone party’ some evening and just get it over with. Mom, I don’t want to have to hide all my life.”
“I’m sure you figured this out already, but, if you haven’t, then I’ll clear it up. I’ve really enjoyed being a little submissive. It doesn’t scare me, at least it doesn’t with you. You said that if I wanted to be a good submissive, I needed to learn your moods and be ready to pleasure you when you desired it. Well, okay — where do I sign up for that? I want to be a good submissive, so I’m putting myself in your hands and you can teach me. I promise I’ll do whatever you say, anytime and anyplace. I’m not afraid of this. It feels too good. I’m not scared to give up control.”
Her eyebrows peaked up again, but she wasn’t smiling this time. “Bobby, there’s something important I want you to know about being submissive, and this really is important — it’s a key factor in understanding what being submissive is, so you need to pay attention to what I’m about to say, okay?”
“Okay,” I said, “I’m listening.”
“Submissiveness,” she explained, “does not equal weakness and it’s not associated at all with fear. In fact, being submissive is actually a position of strength…. strength to have faith, trust and confidence in yourself and to who you allow to be in control over you. People who are weak can never be truly submissive. Weak people actually become dominated by those that are stronger than themselves, and many times they end up with absolutely no choice in the matter. Being submissive gives you the ability to choose who you allow to be in control, and when to start or stop that privilege.”
Wow. Some pretty heavy thoughts there. It made total sense to me and gave me a renewed feeling of pride. While I knew I wouldn’t be walking around with a button on my shirt saying ‘I’m proud to be submissive’, I knew I could balance my desire to have a normal life and be submissive, too.
“Let me make a few observations, sweetheart.” She said. “You’ve made some very bold statements and I admire you for saying them. I love you for trusting me enough to say them to me. I’m flattered that you want me to teach you how to be sexually submissive and I also understand that the last two days might have opened your eyes to some things and greatly influenced some of what you said. So, how about this…. let’s take it slow, one day at a time, one thing at a time. Take some time to think about everything you said because you’re not going to be able to hide a lot of that from your father, or your sister. I’m not suggesting you try to be something, or someone you aren’t. Also, I really encourage you to talk to your father. Trust me on this, Bobby, he’ll be a lot more understanding than you might think.”
“Mom, I could never talk to dad about any of this, you know that.” I answered. “He’ll brush it off and tell me it’s just hormones or something stupid like that.”
“Sweetheart, no he won’t. Believe me, he’s going to understand if you’ll give him a chance and talk honestly with him. Maybe it will be good to get another man’s perspective. Uncle Mike would be good, too, but try your dad first, baby. Try something small first and give him a chance. You might be surprised.”
“I don’t know,” I replied, “somehow I just can’t see him understanding the same way you do.”
“Sweetheart, do you think I would give you bad advice or try to trick you into something that wasn’t in your best interests?” She asked.
“No,” I said, “I guess not.” I thought for a minute and then asked “Do you think you could maybe be there if I do talk to him, you know, just in case he doesn’t understand?”
She pulled me over to her and hugged me. “Bobby, I would be happy to be there if that’s what you want. But, think it all through first, then go see him when you have a clear head. Look, I’m just making a suggestion that you talk to him, and I can be there for moral support if you want me there.”
“One last thing, baby,” she added, “I’m not ashamed of anything we’ve done the last two days. I haven’t violated my promise to your father and I haven’t done anything to be guilty of. Neither have you.”
“Sweetheart,” she said, “you know time is ticking. We still haven’t had our breakfast, I still haven’t had my coffee and it’s almost three o’clock. If you’re serious about me dressing you up and bending you over the bed, we better get going or they might walk in on us and get an eyeful. Hey, do you feel better now after getting all that off your chest?”
I told her I felt much better and that I meant every word of it. Sometimes, confession is good for the soul, and that old adage was true in my case. She was right, I did make some bold statements, and I meant them. I just didn’t know how I was going to be able to put any of it into action.
I smiled to myself and was going to thank her for the words of wisdom she imparted on me, but when I looked at her, I saw that her left hand had moved to her right nipple and she was playing with it. As if under some kind of spell, I leaned over and kissed her lightly. She closed her eyes as I kissed her again. Reaching for her shoulders, I rolled her onto her back and kept kissing her. She reached around my neck as we kissed, but, I pulled her arm away from me and put it back on her breast. “Go ahead and keep touching yourself, mom. I’d love it if you would let me watch you.”
She didn’t say a word — she only smiled and closed her eyes. I leaned back to give her some room, and when I did, she pulled her feet up toward her bottom and let her knees fall open. This was a much different view than I had in my bedroom yesterday and early this morning in her bedroom. It was the middle of the afternoon and even though the curtains were closed, the room was bright as the sunlight flooded through.
I could see the most intimate details of her vagina, every fold, every nook and cranny and every hair. When her hand made first contact down there, she only brushed upward lightly between her lips. She let her legs fall completely loose and I literally stared at her, trying to see everything. “Can you see okay from there?” She asked. I nodded and said “Yeah, I can see fine.”
Little by little as she touched herself, her clitoris began to peek out of its hood. The pink bud was much smaller than I thought it would be. When I had licked her, it felt so large against my tongue and when I touched it, it felt bigger against my fingers. But in reality, it was just a small nub hidden between her lips. She was enticingly beautiful lying there, and I mean all of her, not just her pussy. Yeah, her pussy was beautiful, but damn, she was one sexy woman!
Through her pubic hair, I could see everything clearly. Her outer lips were perfect and they were slightly open allowing me to see her inner lips, but I couldn’t see inside her — something I desperately wanted to see. Every time her fingers ran down between her lips, I prayed she would push her finger into her vagina, but she didn’t. With each stroke, I said to myself “let me see inside, mom…. please open it up and let me see what it looks like inside you.”