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I sat on the balcony of the over-priced sports club relaxing into my uncomfortable heavy iron chair and taking in the view over the rolling green golf course, lined afar with bushy pine trees so as to do their best to hide the housing subdivision behind them from the other over-paying members. The sky was turning to a burnt orange as the sun set and I basked in the warm glow of a dying sun and several lagers on top of my tired muscles.
My name is Tommy Butler and I just won the tennis tournament.
Actually, me and my Mom did. Sorry, my Mom and I did. Her name is Wendy Butler and we’ve been practicing tennis together since I was 12 and she wanted to lose some mom weight. She’s a true beauty of a woman, although I don’t like to hear that as we really do look very much alike. The family resemblance, even I’ll admit, is very strong between us. She’s 5’6″ and I’m 5’8″, she 42 me 22, we’re both around 150lbs (what I make up for in height she makes up in motherly curves) and have Roman-black hair and just-shy-of-olive white skin. My hair is cut short, just longer than a buzz cut, hers flows down to her shoulders. We look very much alike and very much like mother and son.
It turned out we’d both been quite good at the tennis and had kept it up before entering in the local country club’s family doubles tournament when I’d been 17 and had done pretty well, but this is the first time we’d won. And we’d worked hard to do it. Playing 6 days a week for months on end as we approached this year’s tournament, sometimes twice a day during the weeks the tournament’s knockout rounds were being played on those Saturdays. This year we’d made it. I sighed contentedly and turned my head to the right to gaze happily over the large gold-colored winner’s cup on the table, what was left in my pint as well as mom’s empty pint glass. I’d been surprised she’d ordered beer but as she doesn’t drink often, she’d ordered one of what I was having, which turned to two, which turned to three.
My mom, Wendy, had gone inside to use the facilities before she said she’d come to get me so we could say our goodbyes and go home. It had been quite the celebration – in a gentle, country club way – and we were now due to make our pleasantries and leave as it was getting late; everyone had already gone inside to the bar area as the sun made its bed and mom had told me to stay here so she knew where I was and could grab me for a quick exit – she was clearly pretty tipsy and hadn’t wanted to lose track of me.
Although we had been members here some years since the first family tournament, we didn’t really feel comfortable with all these rich people peacocking to each other. We just weren’t those type of hoity-toity people although had had years of entertainment between the two of us making a little fun at the old guard and their ways, when all we wanted to do was to play tennis. We definitely got a feeling we weren’t quite good enough to be members here, to the point we felt they were patting themselves on the back that they had allowed lower-class folk like us in and we were the one shining example of a family they used and kept around to show how they definitely weren’t superior elitist types. That we’d won this year was the icing on the cake for us and I could now feel the as-yet un-vocalized question of whether we’d retain our memberships, was hanging in the air. Still, there was time for all that yet. Tonight was for celebrating.
Mom came back through the balcony door with a pained expression on her face, but before I noticed that I felt my heart flutter at seeing her. Weird. She’s my mom. Yet there was just something about the way she floated through the door and the lights from inside shone through her hair that really spoke to me for a second. Damn beers. I think we’ve also been bonding a little too closely recently and maybe I need to get out there cruising for chicks again; I’d not even thought about it while this tournament was on and had only hung out with her and, at night, my laptop, diving headfirst down rabbit holes of filth. This week’s focus had been watersports and my obsession had been getting a little stronger recently to the point it was something I really wanted to try. I’d been abstaining both from drinking alcohol and from women and now the tournament was over I’m 3 pints deep and getting horny.
“Shit,” mom began her declaration, snapping me back to reality. Shit indeed; had I really just been checking out my own mom? Maybe I need to lay off those incest fetish sites too. “There’s a long line in the ladies,” Mom followed, “I don’t know what to do.”
“Erm,” I sat back with a smug grin on my face, “have you tried waiting in the line?”
“It’s too long,” she pouted back, “I never should have had those beers I’m not used to them. Where’s the other ladies?”
“How should I know?!” I exclaimed. She shifted to the side. It was a peepee dance. Is that what had caught my attention and made my perverted heart flutter?
“I don’t know, I feel uncomfortable asking people here,” she said, followed by an “ugh” in resignation as she spotted a waiter walking past the door and yanked it open while making eye contact with him. I carried on staring out over the balcony as I heard her ask and be told canlı bahis it’s the only ladies’ room on site. She shut the door and I turned my gaze back to her and could tell she was annoyed. She had my attention now as I was getting a little turned on by her peepee dance and was allowing horny feelings to creep in after the emotional release of knowing there’s no more tennis to prepare for.
“Damn men’s clubs!” She cried. “Only one women’s bathroom in the whole place, no wonder the line’s so long. There’s no way I’ll make it. We’ve got to go, now!”
“No way!” I swallowed a mouthful of beer quickly to say into my glass currently held to my mouth, “I’ve still got half a pint left and we’ve got to say our goodbyes. There’s no way I’m slipping out the back with this trophy, there’s plenty of posh people here I want to lord it over yet.” I could tell she was in a quandary of what to do. This was annoying me now as we’d been getting along so well and having such a great celebration but this was killing the mood. Damn patriarchy and their one women’s bathroom. “I know” I joked, “piss out here on the balcony. That’ll show ’em.”
A big grin grew across my face as I realized how much I’d just amused myself by the suggestion and my head swam from the beer. “Go in one of those potted plants” I recommended, pointing with my glass towards a large potted palm on the balcony. I was getting a little sloppy.
“Oh, as if!” Mom poked back, but I could tell the joke had lightened her mood a little, “you’re right though, damn patriarchy. I’d love to piss on their balcony and show them what they’ve made me do!” Her emphasis on the word ‘piss’ had stung a little in its brashness. This was getting fun.
“Do it!” I joked, wondering how far this would go.
“I can’t!” she insisted, “everyone will see!”
“Oh mom, as if you haven’t always loved being an exhibitionist!” I was right about that. The tiny bikinis she’d worn on family vacations that even I’d thought inappropriate as a kid; the sex noises coming from the next tent. The tiny tennis outfit she had on now, complete with white pleated microskirt that was definitely shorter than all the other moms’ but worn under the guise of being proper apparel.
“That’s different,” she said, matter-of-factly, surprising me in her admission.
I looked into her eyes and followed her gaze to the table to see her staring at her empty pint glass. Just as I realized what was going through her head, she confirmed it. “Hand me that glass.”
Those words rocked my world. Changed it. Turned everything upside down.
I instantly grabbed her glass and handed it to her, hopefully not too quickly. It took about as much time for me to bring the glass from the table to the right of me into her hand on my left, as it did for my jaw to hit the floor and my eyebrows to hit the ceiling in shock. She wasn’t seriously going to do this, was she?
“Well, don’t look!” She told me, “keep an eye out!”
I turned my head away while making sure nobody was approaching the balcony. Since everyone headed inside as the sun set it had only been her and I chatting for a good 20 minutes before her nature called and she’d headed inside to start this chain of events. No-one had even opened the door in all that time except her, so in my boozy state I took the gamble we were safe.
I heard it. The trickle. The tinkle of the glass filling. The hiss of the pee coming out of my mother’s vagina as the stream got to full strength! I had to look. I turned my head to coyly check things out from the corner of my eye, trying to be subtle. A strong wave of arousal washed over me. I’d never been so turned on, it was like a switch had been flipped by the sexiest, most perverse thing I’d never imagined happening mere inches from me. I looked out the corner of my eye but all I could see was the bottom of the pint glass from under her skirt as one hand held the glass and the other, I presumed, was holding her panties to the side, while the front flap of her skirt did it’s best to hide her modesty while she did her very best to lose it in front of me. A drop fell off the bottom of the glass and I traced it falling to the floor. Was that piss or condensation?
I was now back staring directly at the glass and could see her looking down to it, too. She chuckled a little as she realized the naughtiness of what she was doing. I could hear the hiss of the pee coming from her vagina and was hooked. It was music. Pure filth music. Nothing had ever turned me on so much. The glass condensed on the outside and I could see from the exposed bottom of the glass the color of her watery beer piss.
“It’s filling up! It’s gonna overflow!” She laughingly panicked before I saw her midriff muscles clench and cut off the stream as her one hand dipped the pint under the hem of her skirt, the other grabbing the hem of her panties and adjusting it back over her – what I can only now assume was piss-wet – pussy. She was now holding it, playing it off like it was a pint to drink, while looking side to side to see what to do with it. Her eyes settled on mine as she finally noticed I had watched and was in shock. “I told you not to watch!” She scolded.
“Um, yeah, sorry,” I stumbled, frazzled. Blushing. bahis siteleri A dry mouth surrounded by all this water. “I couldn’t help it.”
“Oh my god you’re turned on aren’t you” she teased. Now she was more relieved my teasing mom came back out to play.
“What? No way!” I denied while watching her eyes travel down to my crotch and seeing the shock now in her eyes as she saw my pants tenting. I shut my legs and sat forward to hide my erection but knew it hadn’t worked.
“Oh God it’s Julie and Kevin!” she said, interrupted, looking over my shoulder through the window and declaring their heading towards us. Julie and Kevin were the Stepford-esque mother and son team who normally won the tennis and were doing their very best not to show how offended they were we’d taken it from them this year. “Good job they waited, Mr. Lookout,” she joked about me abandoning my duties, “sort out that boner they’re coming this way!” Apparently, all modesty had been dropped and all was now damage control to stop anyone from finding out what had just happened. She was right, though, I had to do something as these tennis shorts couldn’t hide a boner from a blind man, especially my 7-inch cock throbbing from having seen my own mother fill a glass so lewdly. I stood up and moved behind her so she could cover me, just as they opened the door to step out onto the balcony and mom placed the glass onto the table next to mine and next to our trophy.
“Wow, guys!” Julie congratulated us. “Seriously good stuff out there today, congrats dah-lings!” Her fakeness was overwhelming. I wanted this to end so I could go back to that insanely charged moment with Mom, hoping the moment hadn’t faded as that was a lot of fun.
Kevin, Julie’s son, moved to the side of his mother, within dangerous eyeline of my stiff member. I grabbed mom’s shoulders to try and make it not look like I was stood awkwardly behind her.
“Aw, Thaaaanks!” Mom cascaded back towards Julie, who’d leant in for “kisses, mwah!” (ugh). Playing the part as was expected in an establishment like this. Mom leant forward to meet her theatrical cheek kisses, at which point I held onto her shoulders and moved her back into me so she didn’t expose my hardon, which accidentally made her ass press hard against my cock. Had she just pushed back?
“Well done Tommy,” congratulated Kevin, in my direction over Mom’s shoulder, “It was neck and neck until that last set and you both certainly deserved that win! Cheers!” And, with that, he held his glass towards me to offer me a ‘cheers’. I could see the disappointment in his eyes, though. Cunt. Anyway, I had to get out of this situation and there were only 2 glasses on the table. I knew from previous encounters with these 2 posers if we didn’t play ball and follow suit there’d be a whole debacle about us ‘having a refill’ and I wanted nothing more than to get away from these losers and get back to the sexually charged moment I was enjoying with my mom. Mom and I had turned to the table at the same time out of instinct to grab a glass to raise, but I noticed her hand pause at the only drinks available and I could read her signal of wondering how we’d get out of this one.
I stepped up to the plate.
I grabbed the glass Mom had just set down – the one filled with her own water, and clinked it to Julie’s and Kevin’s. I felt Mom tense under me as she recoiled from what I’d done. Them not knowing and me playing along, me knowing I was really making her squirm, all turned to Mom expectantly for her to also raise a glass as is etiquette. Encouraged by my left hand remaining on her shoulder giving her a nudge, she slowly, deliberately, moved her left hand to what had previously been my pint glass, filled with actual beer, and raised it up, clinking it together with the other three proffered glasses. She turned her head and watched in horror? Shock? Excitement? I couldn’t tell, as I brought the glass to my lips and, making full eye contact with her, with a big grin on my face shining through my eyes, took a big gulp of her steaming hot pee.
She held eye contact. My brain went into overdrive. I was so horny by now and this hot piss was flowing down my throat like it was the nectar of the gods themselves. It was such an erotically charged, filthy moment. It was piss from my Mom’s pussy! It was watery, sweet, a slight musk, my nose in the glass being bathed in the steam. I’d never realized how beautiful this would be. I kept sipping. Making eye contact with mom. Swallowing. Staring into her soul. Raising the bottom of the glass. Gulping. My eyes glazed over as did hers. It was like 2 lovers making eye contact as they Lady and the Tramped a pasta string together, except this was more intimate. Another gulp. My tongue becoming saturated and feeling the slick piss running down the back of my throat. Heaven. Salt. Sugar. Water. Pussy. Mom. Sex. Piss. Thoughts whirl winded through my mind as I could see through her eyes and into her soul, they did to her. I’ve never felt so connected with someone as I stared into her very being, as I drank her very being. By now I’m chugging like a frat boy on a mission. Necking a pint. Mom and I sharing a moment so intimate, so erotic we’ve shut everyone else in the world out as Kevin and bahis şirketleri Julie look on with fading smiles, trying to politely still be part of the conversation and moment but seeing they were clearly fighting a losing battle, while also trying not to show how crude they found it a drink was being chugged in their precious fucking country club.
I finished the drink and theatrically held it upside down above my open mouth as the last drop fell onto my tongue. Julie laughed a quick ‘ha!’ to try and pretend she wasn’t offended by my display of alcohol intake, little did she know what she had really seen. As far as I was concerned, Julie could fuck off.
I lowered the glass and Mom and I stood there staring into each other’s eyes. There was a look on her face I couldn’t make out. It looked damn well like lust but I’d not seen Mom like that before so couldn’t tell. Until half a minute ago, we’d only been here to play tennis, now I knew from this bizarre turn of events that I had to have her. I’ve just done more than have her and to fuck her was almost like taking a step back. My mind was in a tornado, a frenzy, a piss-drunk lust fog.
I turned to Julie and Kevin. “Well, thanks guys.” I said, firmly, knowing it was time for them to leave. They obviously sensed something was up as they mumbled a bit and went back inside. Good. Fuck ’em. I’ve just been blasted into the stratosphere and had something new to focus on, a new mission to accomplish.
Mom was still staring at me. I could feel it. I watched Julie and Kevin walk through the doorway and followed the door with my eyes as it closed. It popped into its frame and I turned to Mom. She was still staring at me. Processing.
“What. The. Fuck.” She said to me. She still had the same blank, shocked expression on her face. It slapped me back into reality as I wondered if I hadn’t gone a little too far and misread the situation. Who does that? Who chugs their mom’s piss while rubbing their hard cock into her ass, in front of people? What was her plan? What would she do?
“What. The. Fuck.” She repeated. Whether this was going to pay off or backfire I decided to sit back down to face it. As I did, I felt the weight of my own lager-filled bladder inside me.
I looked up at Mom for her to say something.
“I’ve. I’ve never-” She began. “I’m shocked. Is that what you’re into?”
She knew me. She knew I’d gotten a perverse kick out of that. Time to be honest. We’d been pretty intimate already today.
“Um, no. A bit. I’ve thought about it though.”
“Oh.” She said, blankly. She still stared ahead. She took a deep breath in involuntarily. It was ragged. She was weighing options as to what to do, I could tell.
“Are you ok?” I asked, my tone of voice trying to portray to her that was what was more important than anything.
“I’m, er, I’m puzzled.” She stated.
Fuck this. I’m turned on like crazy, I’ve got a belly full of my mom’s piss I can feel swishing around inside me and I’m floating on the win of a tennis tournament. I shouldn’t have done it but I was in a frenzy and threw not just caution, but fucking everything to the wind.
“You’re turned on, aren’t you.” I told her. It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. She turned to me.
“That’s hot.” I don’t know what had gotten in to me. My cock had never been harder. I pushed. “Got any more?”
“Yes.” She was so turned on she was like a robot. I handed her the glass. She took it in her right hand and held it under her skirt. Her left hand pulled her panties aside and I saw her start to fill it again. This was the hottest thing I’d ever seen. Angelic. The rolling greens of the golf course, the deep burnt orange of the skyline, the darkened silhouette of neatly manicured pine trees. The outline of my mom’s splendid figure filling a glass with her aqua vida, preparing me the most intimate drink that would satiate me like a man lost in the desert finding a bottle of water. She was in a daze. She pissed until it was full and didn’t stop, her boiling piss overflowing the sides of the glass and splashing onto the concrete below with a thousand slapping noises of big droplets. I saw her clench her midriff again and she passed the glass to me, this time not trying to avoid her skirt but pushing past it from within, giving me the sexiest glimpse of her trimmed-hair covered pussy.
I grabbed the glass from her and held it to my lips, slowly tipping it to let the boiling hot piss slide down my throat. It was hotter than last time, not having sat on the table before drinking. I gulped and I gulped and I gulped, her eyes washing with what I now knew was lust. She moved towards my bent leg and sat herself on my knee, I could feel her wet pussy glide along the top of my leg. I could feel it getting warm as she let some more piss out of her wet cunt over my knee and thigh. It rolled down my thigh into my crotch, soaking my shorts in the crevice between my cock and ass. Rolling down my shin into my shoe. I stopped drinking, I couldn’t chug that much liquid, and held the glass to her. She took it and held it to her lips, staring deep into my eyes as she tipped the glass and poured her own piss down her throat. I saw a little swallow but maybe it was too much for her, she let the hot piss spill out around her mouth and fall down her chin onto her chest. Instantly her thin sports polo shirt turned opaque, outlining her nipples which I could tell were rock hard.
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