Meeting My Parents Part One My Slutty Mother
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Meeting My Mother free porn video
"Thomas, I'm so pleased you could make it."
The elderly solicitor came from behind his desk and gripped my hand.
"Sit down, dear boy, please sit down."
John Smithson had been a part of my life for as long as I'd had a life. I was now eighteen-years-old and had been a household name ever since I'd written a song two years previously.
I’d made a complete pain of myself by pestering every record company in London. None of them would even listen to it, much less buy it. So drastic action was called for and it had been old John who'd ridden to my rescue.
He'd shown interest when everyone else had only shown ignorance. He'd walked with me around the local pubs listening to all the groups, most of whom were fucking awful.
John had spotted the talent of Billy, the lad I chose to be the drummer for the one-time group that I'd planned. I wanted to record my song with musicians of my own choosing, pay them a flat fee, and then send them on their way.
It took us a month to find the others, Jimmy the lead guitarist, Lenny the rhythm guitarist, and his brother, Crazy Pete, a genius on the bass guitar.
It had been John who warned me that my trust fund wasn't bottomless, although it was index-linked as a guard against rampant inflation.
"I'm going to have to do some creative accounting, Thomas," he laughed as we sat enjoying a well-earned drink after the recording session. "We've got through a whole year's allowance in just three months."
"Don't worry, Mister Smithson." I was high with pleasure, the song was still running through my brain. The session had gone better than either of us had hoped; just six takes and it was in the bag, "We'll make millions, I promise you."
We did!
Thanks to me pestering disc jockeys, it was given airtime and a month to the day of the recording session, it entered the charts at twenty-eight. The following week, thanks to it's continued exposure, it went to number three and then, Hey Presto, the very next week, I had a number one hit on my hands. It went top in America, Japan, Russia, Germany, Denmark, Sweden... you name it, it was massive, a huge hit and an even bigger earner than I'd ever imagined.
I was just sixteen years old.
~~~~
"Have you cleared your diary, Thomas?" he asked as I sat down.
"Yes."
"Right." He made a pyramid of his fingers and touched his forefingers to his lips, the way he always did when he was thinking, "I'd like you to hear me out before making any comment."
I nodded. "Okay."
"As you already know, you are the product of a wealthy man taking advantage of a young and vulnerable girl whose mother was in the employ of your father's family. I feel for you, Thomas that you've never met your father. But, those are his wishes, andI have to respect them. I fear you never will meet him."
He reached for the intercom and ordered two coffees and looked down his nose at me as I lit a cigarette.
"They'll kill you one day, you know."
"Probably, yes."
The lovely Joan, his secretary, brought in our coffees. Just a hint of a smile in her eyes betrayed the fact that she'd left me in her bed that morning when she got up to go to work. Her face didn't alter even when I stroked her thigh, unseen by John, of course.
"There you are gentlemen," she said briskly. "Will there be anything else, sir?"
"No thank you, Joan."
We waited until she'd closed the door behind her delectable frame.
"Now, where was I? Oh yes... well, as you know, you've always been well provided for, as has your mother. Although you've never known your mother either, I can tell you that I've been in constant touch with her for the last seventeen years."
My ears pricked up and I sat up in the chair. "Has she been here?"
"She's often sat in that very chair, Thomas," he smiled. "And I can tell you that she is a delightful young lady."
He consulted some papers and then looked at me above his glasses.
"Your father has asked me to tell you, now that your eighteenth birthday is tomorrow..." He hesitated. "He's asked me to tell you that she was just sixteen-years-old when you were conceived."
"Sixteen?"
He nodded. "Yes, a few weeks short of her seventeenth birthday."
He waited again as I blew my nose and sipped my coffee. "Jesus Christ."
"Exactly, Thomas," he said softly, "Your mother has been here at least once a month since she came of age and every month she has asked the same question: how is Thomas?"
"So, why hasn't she been to see me?"
"Because your father had forbidden it, Thomas. It was made clear to her that if she tried to contact you before your eighteenth birthday, her allowance, as well as yours, would cease to be paid immediately."
"But why? Why do that? It doesn't make sense."
"It doesn't have to make sense, it was his wish, his demand if you like. Anyway, as you know, I'm retiring tomorrow and my last job will be to hand over everything I have for you and your mother." He smiled again. "You have a choice. You can meet her here in my office, I would leave you both alone of course, or I can give you her address. I should inform you that I've already asked your mother the same question."
"What did she say?" I was wildly excited, I was actually going to meet my mother.
"I need your answer first, Thomas."
"I think I'd like to meet her at her home."
Yet again, the kindly old man smiled. "That was her answer, too."
It was a lot to take in. A hell of a lot had happened recently. At sixteen, I'd left yet another pair of foster parents, the last in a long line of nice, caring people who'd had their care thrown back in their faces by a wild youth with a chip on each shoulder. I'd got a nice little flat where I loved to surf the internet and I'd earned myself millions of pounds by writing one song. But this put them all in the shade, I was actually going to meet my mother!
"Right, Thomas," he said and held out his hand, "I'll see you tomorrow. Oh, and by the way," he grinned again, "we've finished for the day so you may as well take Joan somewhere nice this afternoon."
The somewhere nice turned out to be a pub around the corner from her Kensington flat where we ate a beautifully cooked steak, washed down with copious quantities of red wine, and then we continued with more red wine in her flat.
Joan wasn't in the least bit surprised when I asked her what my mother was like.
"I knew you'd ask that, Tommy," she smiled. "I'm not supposed to tell you, but after tomorrow it won't really matter will it?"
"What will you do?"
"Take a holiday," she grinned. "John has been really good to me over my redundancy pay. He's given me a more than generous payoff, so I'm going on a cruise. It's all booked and I leave in two weeks time; six weeks in the sun, I can hardly wait."
"Tell me about my mother, Joan."
"Let's take our drinks out onto the balcony. I like to sit out there at night."
She'd changed into a white silk housecoat that clung to her like a second skin. I could just about make out the shape of a thong beneath it as she walked in front of me onto the balcony.
"You're looking at my bottom," she giggled and I laughed with her.
"It's a very nice bottom Joan, but please, I want to know about my mother."
She leaned back against the balcony's wrought iron railings.
"She's beautiful Tommy, a really beautiful lady. You know she's only thirty-three, don't you?"
"Yes," I nodded, "he told me."
"I'm going to tell you something now, Tommy. I've been agonizing over it for a long time, and so has your mother."
"Go on then." I poured more wine and handed her a glass.
"She's been here many times, Tommy."
"Here, in this flat?"
"In my bed Tommy." She drained her glass. "We were lovers."
I sat down quickly in case my legs gave way. I could hardly believe what she was telling me.
"We never intended it to happen, we really didn't."
"So, she's a lesbian?"
"No, she's not a lesbian." Her eyes blazed with anger. "What a bloody stupid thing to say. Would you call me a lesbian too?"
"But..."
"But bloody nothing, Tommy. I really thought you were more mature than that. She was twenty-seven and hurting. Tommy, have you the faintest idea just how much it was hurting her? Every time she went to John's office, she knew you'd been there. Every time she picked up a newspaper, your face looked out at her. In her house, she's got a whole room decorated with pictures of you. She even wrote to you under a false name asking for a signed photograph. You sent her one and she cried, Tommy, she actually bloody cried."
Reaching down to fill her glass again, her breasts almost came free of the silk and she giggled.
"Now you're looking at my boobs."
"Take that robe off, let me look at you."
Her outburst forgotten, she shrugged off her robe and stood, hands on hips smiling at me.
"You like?"
She laughed and I growled.
"I like, Joan, you know I do."
"So, you don't really mind about me and your mum being friends?"
"Lovers, Joan."
"Okay, lovers."
"No, not really. In fact, I'm pleased that you made her happy."
"I certainly did, Tommy," she smiled, easing both breasts out of her lacy bra cups. "But it was a two-way thing, you know. She made me happy, too."
Hearing that also made me quite happy. I was fond of Joan. She'd once confided in me that she'd never married because she'd spent her whole working life with John and had been his lover for over twenty years. She was in her late forties now and still a very sexy and self-assured lady.
"Anyway," she smiled as she wrapped her arms around my neck, "Enough of your mother for now. I feel in need of a damn good fucking. Are you game?"
Bending, I took a nipple into my mouth and sucked at it tenderly whilst running my hands over her back and down to her bottom.
"I'm always game with you, Joan, you should know that by now."
She squirmed and moaned softly as I insinuated a finger into the back of her panties and prodded her rosebud gently.
"That's where I want it tonight, Tommy."
"Tell me then, tell me what you want me to do."
She came into my arms, her mouth open and her breath sweet as it mingled with mine. We sank onto the bed.
"I want you to eat me, Tommy. I want you to make me come under your tongue and then I want sodomizing nice and gently. This will probably be our last night together so I want to remember it."
Her nipples were hard with her need and she sucked in her breath as I kissed and suckled each one. She stroked my hair tenderly and moaned softly when I kissed her stomach and licked my way down to her panties. The expensive filigree lace was already damp when I added the moisture from my tongue and she sighed as I licked where her slit seeped.
"Tommy, you do that so well," she whispered and pushed her hips up to my mouth. I used my tongue to ease the gusset to one side.
Delving lower, I teased her anus before pushing my tongue into that most fragrant of holes. I first discovered the delights of anal sex with Joan and it had become a favourite of ours. I liked her to keep her panties on because I enjoyed the sensation of the nylon rubbing against the side of my cock and she was only too pleased to indulge my little fetish as she turned over onto her stomach and presented her bottom to me.
"Mmm yes," she sighed as I positioned my cock against her tiny hole.
I slid easily into the tight, velvety warmth of her rectum. If this was to be our last night together, I wanted her to remember it with pleasure.
I began moving slowly against her bottom, fucking her with long, deep strokes. Every nerve ending in my penis sent little jolts of pleasure up to my brain. She gripped it, using her anal muscles, and as I drew out, she moved forward.
We were in perfect rhythm, a well-rehearsed twosome determined to give pleasure as well as receive it.
She wiggled her bottom and pushed back against me. My balls slapped against her pussy through the wet nylon of her panties and I knew I wasn't going to last as long as I wanted.
"Give it to me, Tommy." She was breathing hard now, sensing that I was about to come. "Let it go, darling, let it all go in my bum."
"Oh Christ, Joan," I gasped, "oh, Christ."
"Do it, Tommy, shag my bum."
Pulling back until I was almost completely out of her, I waited until she moaned softly -- and then I rammed my cock in hard. She screamed into the pillow as the climax hit her. I was hardly moving; only my penis moved as it jerked inside her anus, each jerk sending my cream splattering against the walls of her rectum.
Annalisa
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