“Those are really nice mom.”
She put her hands on my cock again. “Thanks. I’m glad you like them. Your body is certainly showing its approval.”
I didn’t know exactly what she meant, until she gave my cock an extra hard squeeze and smiled. My erection became stiffer, which is how she knew I liked her breasts. My eyes stayed on her tits while she jerked me off. Her eyes remained focus on my cock.
It felt like we both lost track of time in our sexual moment. The real irony was that during the hand job she gave me, I must have moved several times out of pleasure. She saw me move out of position, but she didn’t bother to say anything, she was too busy jerking me off.
“I’m close to cumming,” I panted.
She smiled. “Finally. My arms are getting tired.”
“Where should I do it?”
“Right where you are. I’ll clean it up after.”
The motion of her hands increased and I felt a powerful pressure building up inside my cock. It felt amazing. I came and it shot straight into the air. Before long, her hands were covered with my cum, and it was dripping onto my body.
She let go, put her breasts away, and stood up to get some paper towels to wipe me with. The funny thing was that she cleaned me the same way she would clean the house. It looked innocent and motherly. There was one drop of cum left on my thigh, and surprisingly, she scooped it up with her finger and ate it.
“You taste good,” she smiled. “Ready to continue?”
“Yeah, I am,” I replied in disbelief over the fact that she ate my cum.
“Good. Now get back into the same position you were before this mess started.”
With that, my mother stood up and went back to her area to paint. I moved back to the same position. My mother picked up her paint brush and pallet and went back to work as if nothing was wrong. I could see a slight smile on her face, and I was sure the same look was on my face as well.
***
Later that night. My mother called me down the stairs for dinner. She made lasagna, which was one of my favorites. There were several other nice dishes as well. I usually helped prepare the table, but this time, the everything was already set. We both sat down to eat.
“This looks great,” I said to her.
“I hope so,” she replied. “Tonight is a special occasion.”
“Why? Because you finished all of your paintings?”
“Exactly. I couldn’t have done it without you. So this is my little way of showing gratitude for what you’ve done for me.”
I was flattered, but she didn’t have to do this. At that point, I don’t think she realized how much I loved getting a handjob from her earlier. That was more than enough to express her gratitude. To my mother, it was just something that needed to be done in order to get ride of my erection.
I took a big bite out of the food. “You didn’t have to do this, but it’s delicious.”
“I insist,” she replied. “Besides, I got off the phone with the gallery’s art director a few hours ago. She told me that I’m invited to have a private dinner with some very influential figures in the art community. I’m talking about artists that I deeply admire. Can you believe it?”