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A sissy is awoken.

Mom shook and twisted.

"OH GOD JOHNNY, I'M CUMMING."

Cream gushed from her pussy. I didn't slow down. She came again. Her pussy gripped tightly on my finger, pulsating with each orgasm as it washed over her. I continued licking and finger fucking her, reached a hand to her breast, squeezed it. When I pinched a nipple she went over the edge again.

"OOOOHHHHH GGGGOOOOOODDDDD!!"

I wasn't sure. Was she coming from before or coming again? I took hold of her hips, pulled them to me, and slowed it all down, laying the flat of my tongue on her clit, moving it gracefully around. Her body jerked in a series of sweet small follow-up orgasms. I drank the fluid that poured from her.

She stopped moving. I kissed and licked her thighs until, in a soft voice, she said, "Come here my love."

I crawled up next to her.

She rolled over to face me, her eyes aglow.

"That was wonderful. It's never been like that before, never been that good. I love you my beautiful son, I always will."

I didn't know how to respond, but I did not need to. My erection brushed against her. She reached for it, wrapped her fingers around it.

"This needs some attention. Just give Mommy a second to rest."

She kissed me. Her lips were soft and sweet. She closed her eyes, whispered again that she loved me, and seamlessly fell into a deep happy content sleep.

I lay there about ten minutes holding her, before realizing she was out for the night. I looked at the clock. It was close to midnight, hours after Mom usually went to bed. She was not getting back up. My dick was throbbing. I considered waking her; I considered masturbating. The first seemed cruel, the second oddly disrespectful; I did neither. I got out of bed and sat in the dark, thinking about what had just happened, what had happened over the last several years, what had happened on our vacation. At 3:00 A.M., my cock flaccid, my balls no longer aching, I crawled into bed next to Mom.

I woke at 9:30. Mom was gone. A moment of panic was pushed aside by the realization that she was on her morning jog. A glance at the corner where she kept her running shoes confirmed the thought; they were gone. For the next hour I, ruminating, looking into my own heart, drifted in and out of sleep.

I was finally awoken by Mom.

"Get up sleepy head."

I opened my eyes. Mom didn't dress up often, but she was dressed up now. Her red dress clung to her chest and hips while floating freely around her thighs. The neck was open past her breasts, exposing a hint of cleavage. She noted the appreciative look in my eyes and pirouetted. The slit in the skirt opened, exposing her leg, the top of her stockings, the straps of a garter belt, and more than a hint of flesh.

Mom had followed my eyes. She planted her foot on the end table, displaying her undergarments. She had painted her toenails a deep sexy red and was wearing red leather stiletto 4 __ inch heels with a pointed toe and some strappy detailing. With those heels, I thought, she'd be slightly taller than Dad.

"Jeez Mom, you look incredible. Very sexy. I didn't know you owned stockings."

"You don't think it's a bit over the top."

I looked at her for a minute, thinking about her question. She looked great and the dress was classy, appropriate for a first-rate restaurant. But there was something that seemed a bit off. Then it struck me; the dress was happy, joyful, not clothes you wore to something sad.

"Well, you don't look like somebody going to hear bad news. You look sexy, joyful. "

"Good, that's exactly how I want to look.

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