Horsin' Around with Mum 3

by OttersInTrousers

-----

December thirty-first is a full week since Edric and his Mum first had sex, and he definitely wants to mark the occasion, but it's also new year's eve, and the day they agreed to celebrate the solstice since he didn't make it home until the twenty-third. So it's kind of gonna be a busy day. 

As far back as he can remember, Edric and his Mum have made a whole day out of solstice celebration, cooking a big meal together then camping out in the living room together. Family, togetherness, keeping one another warm through the longest night of the year, that sort of thing. Now they're celebrating it on new year's eve, so they're adding “stay up until midnight to ring in the new year” to the list.

And also they're together, which will likely bring new activities for them to do in celebration of togetherness and family and keeping warm. 

-----

Edric wakes before his Mum this morning. He's on his back, she's on her side facing him with one hand over his waist. Her breath ghosts over his shoulder and neck. He turns to look at her and smiles. She looks so peaceful, so warm and comfortable. He leans over to kiss the side of her muzzle.

Carefully, he slides from the bed, trying to avoid waking her. If he's lucky, he can get breakfast ready for her before she gets up.

He's not lucky.

As he's sliding on his discarded boxer shorts, he hears her sleep-husky voice.

“Baby?” She pushes to sit up and the sheet falls away from her nude body. She looks like a work of art, sleep-ruffled and softly lit in the morning light through her curtains. Ed wishes he could capture this moment to keep forever.

“Morning, Mum. I was just going to start breakfast.” 

She makes a grabby motion at him and he kneels on the bedside so she can wrap her arms around him.

“Just start the coffee, baby,” she mumbles into his shoulder. “I'll be down in a few minutes so we can make breakfast together.”

“You sure?” He runs his hand down her back, then back up to card his fingers through her mane. 

“Yes. It's solstice, baby, I wanna make breakfast with you.”

He smiles.

“Okay, Mum. You lay back down. I'll come get you when coffee's ready.” He starts to pull away.

“Oh, don't do that. If you come back up here before I get out of bed I'm liable to drag you in here and ride you, and then we'd be late eating.” She pushes him back to stand by the bed. “Go on, start coffee. I'll be right out.”

“Okay.” He's a little bit proud that after only a week of this, he's no longer a blushing, stammering mess every time she says something like that. He starts for the door, stops, turns around. She's on her back, stretching. He's reminded of a renaissance-era painting or something, the way the soft light wraps around her features, draws his eyes to her big, beautiful breasts and their dark peaks, her soft tummy. “Love you, Mum.”

She finishes her stretch with a sigh and turns to him. “Love you, too, baby.”

-----

When she ambles into the kitchen to join him, he's leaned against the counter, with her coffee already poured. He sets his own down as she approaches and wraps his arms around her. She hums and leans into the embrace, taking a sip. They stay like that for a long moment, him holding her from behind, arms around her waist, his muzzle resting on top of her head between her ears. When her coffee's about half-finished, she sets it down.

“So what's for breakfast?”

“I was thinking smoothies, and didn't get anywhere past that before you came in.”

“I do love a smoothie.” She hums in thought. “Maybe that's enough for breakfast. Leave us plenty of room for everything else.”

“That's a real good point.” He pulls away, placing a kiss right between her ears as he does.

Over smoothies—banana, strawberry, and blueberry—they plot out the rest of the day. 

When she rises from the table, he finally notices—she's nude. This whole time, the hugging and the holding and eating and talking, all of breakfast, she's been naked and it hadn't even really occurred to him. It was the most natural thing, him in his boxers and her fully naked, going about their morning. He must be staring, because she clears her throat.

“See something you like, baby?” She winks her clit. “Did you only just notice?”

“Uh.” He clears his throat, pries his eyes away from her marepussy. “Yeah—to both.”

“Well,” she begins, grabbing her dishes and moving towards the sink, “I'm glad you're becoming more comfortable with my body.”

“Me, too.” He hops up from the table to help with washing up, but she stops him.

“I'll let you skip helping with dishes if you'll hold me from behind again.”

He grins.

“Sure, Mum. You know I wouldn't mind helping too, right?”

“Of course. It's not much to do, and I'm using this as an excuse to get you to hold me, baby.” She turns to start.

“It's a good excuse.” He steps up behind her, pauses, considers. He drops his boxers, then presses himself fully against her. She hums appreciatively.

“Mmmm, there's my stallion.” She leans back into him, and he gently rocks them side to side.

For a moment, he closes his eyes and just feels her—her smooth coat against his, her tail resting to the side against his hip, her soft mane against his chest and throat, the flexing of her back and shoulders as she scrubs, her belly under his hands. He nuzzles against the top of her head, shifting her forelock around, and snakes one hand up her abdomen to cup her large breast.

“You can put it in, if you want, just no humping 'til I'm done or we'll make a mess of the whole kitchen.”

He blinks open his eyes to realize she's cut the water back on to rinse, and he's throbbing between her thighs.

“It'll wait.” He half-shrugs against her. “I think I'd be too tempted to really give it to you if I put it in. I'm happy right here, holding you.”

A few minutes pass as he kneads her breasts and quietly drinks the feel of her in. As she's finishing up and removing her gloves, he has a thought.

“I've been meaning to ask.”

“Mhm?”

“This,” he says, hefting one boob up and quickly dipping two fingers down to spread over her lips. “Walking around the house not wearing anything. That's not, like, just for me or something, is it? You're not uncomfortable or anything?”

“Mmmm. Loosen up a bit so I can turn around, I wanna be able to look my baby in the eyes if we're having Relationship Talk.” She spins in his grip, and ends up with him standing between her thighs as she leans back against the counter. “This is how I'm comfortable. It started back in October, I was feeling really pent up, and I think I spent the whole day masturbating. It got to the point I didn't want to have to keep changing in and out of my clothes, so I just—didn't. And it was exhilarating. My coat bare, breasts free, pussy out. It felt good. I haven't really worn a full outfit except for going to town in months, baby.” 

Her smile is equal parts sexy and sweet.

“Then for you, I was trying to seduce you, so it was probably fifty-fifty. The skimpy robe and the shower were intentional. Overnight was an accident, but a happy one. I really did forget to put something on until I got to my door, but then I decided it'd be fine, you'd be asleep. I was wrong, but I was so glad to be. I got to see what I did to you.”

“I like being naked, baby. This isn't performative, and you're alright. If I get cold, I can always find a blanket, or cuddle with you.”

He smiles, relieved.

“Good. I just—didn't want this to be, I dunno, uncomfortable for you or something.”

“You're a good man, Edric.” She kisses him, tender. “My son.” Another kiss, a little more passion. “My stallion.” One hand cradles his face while the other grips the base of his cock. “My love.” She parts his lips and slips her tongue in.

-----

Out of breath from kissing, they tumble into the shower a tangle of limbs, her hands in his mane as he sucks a hickey onto the side of her throat. He pushes her back against the wall under the spray and rams his flaring cock into her, drawing a whinny from her as she cums immediately.

His hands slide up her sides from her hips to grope at her breasts, squeezing them until she moans into his ear. His hips slam into hers with bone-jarring force.

They exchange no words, only gasps and groans and frantic motions.

He ruts her like a stallion possessed, no room for thought or patience, just the need to breed her. Hips crash into hips with enough force to bruise as his forceful thrusts quicken. Her grip on his mane tightens.

His breaths come in staccato huffs, railing her with all he has. Her hands roam his back for something to hold, some way to ground herself. He takes one of her arms and pins it to the shower wall above her head, lacing their fingers together. His hips become a frantic blur.

He hilts her with enough force she nearly loses her footing, hooves scrambling under her as his balls draw up. He throws his head back and screams as he cums. After a moment, he captures her lips in a fiery kiss, grunting into her mouth with each pulse of his release.

His orgasm is just as explosive, just as forceful, as the lovemaking that led to it. His thick cum blasts from his tip into her, painting her cervix then rapidly pouring out of her to be washed away by the flow of the shower.

They stand there, leaning against one another and the shower wall, shaking from the exertion, for a long moment.

While he continues catching his breath with his muzzle tucked against the join of her shoulder and neck, she begins grooming him, hands running through his wet mane. She reaches for the shampoo, using her sideways stretching to place a kiss right to the spot between his eyes.

It's such a beautiful, heart-warming feeling, to be cared for. Edric is stunned. She combs her fingers through his mane, carefully shampooing it, working softly and thoroughly. All the while, he's still pumping her full of his love. He feels—exposed. Broken down and laid bare before her and she loves him, loves him. Cares for him in every way a mother should, and this special way a mother shouldn't.

He leans back to look her in the eye, her arms having to reach up to stay in his mane. He leans down to place a single, chaste kiss to her lips, so far from the heated and passionate making out that brought them here. Then he leans down to press his forehead to hers, marvels again at how perfectly the white spots between their eyes align, and closes his eyes.

They speak as one.

“I love you.”

-----

Between mane-washing and the rest of their bodies, they go another round. She's bending forward, hands on the wall, as he humps her from behind.

“Gods, Mum,” he grinds through his teeth, “that first time in the shower. You bent over and almost took me, and I—I actually considered fucking you right there.” His grip on her hips tightens. “Just mating you, no consent no words. Every time we shower together I think about how good you felt then, how good you feel every time we make love.” 

She can only manage to moan.

“My own mother bending over, presenting herself to me, touching her fat, dripping cunt to my cock. My brain nearly shut off, Mum. I could have blown my load right there, just touching your lips.”

“Ha! What a—Oh, baby, I love when you flare inside me—way to seduce you that would have been, making you blow just from a touch!”

“I'd've died of embarrassment, Mum.” His hips are a frantic blur against hers. “So—close. Fuck.” He rests his head against her shoulder, nuzzles her neck where her fresh hickey has bloomed beneath her coat. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!” 

-----

The warm welcoming smell of rosemary and sage fills the kitchen. At the counter, Edric works to roughly chop a few golden potatoes to prepare them for boiling. At the stove, his Mum stirs a bread dressing. 

She's finally wearing something, to protect herself against splatters, except—it's one of his old hoodies. It's big on her, the bottom hem down around her thighs and the sleeves bunched up to free her hands. It's covered in stains from sweat and greasy food, but somehow, it's the sexiest thing he's ever seen her wear.

He's doing his best not to watch her while he's working with a very sharp knife, but she's probably caught him looking a few times already.

He steps around her to get the potatoes started, and she flicks her tail out, lifting the rear of his hoodie above her beautiful ass. Yeah, she has definitely caught him looking. As soon as his hands are free, he reaches over to grope her cheek, then slides his hand down her inner thigh. Her tail flicks against his arm.

“Careful, baby,” she teasingly admonishes, “we don't want to burn or spill anything getting too frisky in here.”

He sighs, and withdraws his hand, fingers wet with her arousal.

“Okay, you're right.” He leans over to kiss the side of her muzzle.

-----

After dinner and cleanup, they move into the living room, once again nude. As he settles into the corner of the couch, she enters, bringing a bottle of wine and two glasses. At his raised eyebrow, she explains.

“Oh, hush baby. You're eighteen and a uni student, you can have a glass of wine with your mum.” She hands him the first glass, then pours her own and nestles in against his side.

“Well, uh, thanks.” He lifts his arm to put it around her, and she hums as she nuzzles into his shoulder. “So what are we toasting?”

“To a new year, and newfound love for one another.” She holds her glass up.

“I'll drink to that.” He tinks his glass against hers.

An hour later, he realizes that most of the bottle is now gone, and they're both a wee bit wine-drunk. 

“I'm gonna miss this.” She speaks the words into his throat, where she's been breathing in his scent for a while. Her nearly-empty wine glass lists to one side, and he just manages to catch it before it spills.

“Miss what, Mum?” He opts to set her glass down on the table beside the couch with his, since he can't get to the coffee table without reaching.

“This,” she says, as if that explains it. Then, “You, me, us. Together.”

He scowls in thought.

“You mean, when I go back to uni?”

“Yes.”

“That's still another week, Mum.”

“And then you'll be leaving,” she says, and then in a whisper, adds “and I'll be lonely again.” She rubs her face against his shoulder, and he feels the tell-tale wetness of a tear against his coat.

“Aw, Mum.” He squeezes her shoulder tighter, and tugs her knees over his legs so she's sitting half in his lap. She sniffles.

“I don't want you to go. And I know it's not fair for me to say that, for me to feel that, but I do. I'm sorry.”

Edric is very much not sober enough to navigate very serious feelings talk. But he's gonna try.

“You're allowed to have feelings, Mum. I'm not going away forever. It's just another semester of uni. We can call or text each other any time we need, and I'll visit as often as I can.”

“That's not fair, either, it's such a long drive.”

“It's only a few hours, and I'd do it anyway. This past week has been the best week I've had since I left for uni, Mum, and that's not just the kissing and sex. And next week's gonna be so good, too. Of course I'm gonna visit.”

“Look at me, crying and carrying on like this. I'm your mum, I should be the one comforting you.”

“I mean, kind of, but we're both adults here. We're both people. And you could use comforting sometimes, too. And you're not just my mum, you're my girlfriend, too. Or—lover? Whatever we're calling this.”

“You are a very good, very sweet young man.”

“You know how I got that way? You worked hard, and you tried your best, and you helped me work through and out of being a dumb, selfish brat.” A pause. “Mostly. I'm a work in progress.”

“Aw, you were never so bad.” She wipes her tears away with her palm and sniffles. “But thank you, baby.”

“Love you, Mum.”

It takes him a few minutes to realize she's fallen asleep. He looks up to the clock—almost 9PM. He'll give her a couple hours and wake her in time for midnight, if she's not up by then.

And then he has a couple hours to himself. To think.

Because he has plenty to think about.

-----

As the televised countdown nears its end, Edric and his Mum look to one another, seated side by side on the couch. Eyes dart down to tongues wetting lips, and they lean in. At the stroke of midnight, they collide in a passionate kiss.

Hands roaming bodies and tongues dancing, they press into one another. He dips a finger into her and she moans into his mouth. She replies by cupping his balls. Without words, they agree to take this to her bedroom and scramble up from the couch. On hooves shaky with arousal, they stumble through the house, bumping furniture and bouncing off walls the whole way, giggles and whispers of “sorry baby” and “careful Mum” punctuated by kisses.

When the backs of her thighs hit her bed, she breaks their kiss and lets herself tumble backwards to lie, legs spread, at the edge. For a moment, Edric simply stands and looks at his Mum, love in his eyes.

“I hope you never stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like—I dunno, baby, like the most beautiful perfect thing in the world. Like a lover.”

“I hope so, too.” He steps forward to stand between her thighs, cock laying over her pussy and up her belly, and leans forward to kiss her again. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She kisses along his muzzle, wrapping her legs behind his back, trapping him against her body. They bask in the feel of one another, his cock throbbing between them. After a moment of hesitation, she asks him, “Baby, can you do me a silly, selfish favor?”

“Probably?” He pulls back in her grip, just enough to be able to look her in the eye. “What's up.”

“Can you—when we—” she sighs, averts her eyes, takes a breath. “When I let you go, and I slide up this bed, and we make love, baby, can you call me by my name?”

And she looks so—fragile, so vulnerable, so trusting. Maybe it's still the wine in their blood, but his eyes mist. He loves this mare. Is in love with this mare. He can't doubt it any longer. He nuzzles gently against her, and she returns it. He echoes her words from the kitchen earlier.

“Of course, Florence.” He kisses her tears away. “My mother.” Nuzzles her. “My mare.” Grinds his hips against hers. “My love.”

They don't quite manage to move up the bed before making love.

She eases her legs just enough for him to pull his hips back, still standing at the bedside, and he lines up. He looks to her with the obvious question in his eyes, and she nods. He eases in.

“You feel so good, Florence. I love you so much.” He trails soft kisses down her throat to nuzzle in against her collarbone as he sets into a gentle, circular rhythm, down and in, up and out.

“You feel good, too, Edric. Oh, baby, you make me feel so good.” She uses one hand to guide his head further down, the other to lift her tit.

He laves his tongue over her nipple several times, then latches on, sucking and nibbling. She moans, caressing the back of his neck. He pauses his humping to grind in against her winking clit.

Florence tosses her head back, free hand tugging at the nipple not currently in her son's mouth.

He feels her pussy tighten and pulse around his cock, and redoubles his efforts. Her moans are a symphony to his ears as he plows her through her orgasm. Her rhythmically clenching vagina milks at his cock, rapidly pulling him to his own orgasm. He lifts his head from her large breast to look at her face as he nears his end.

“Florence! Mum!” His thrusts become frantic. “Here it comes!” 

“Give it to me, baby.” She guides him down into a kiss, passion and love and lust passing between them as their lips meet again and their tongues slip out to find one another.

He hilts her one last time, forcefully, spraying his cum in deep and collapsing on top of her. As they come down, he nuzzles in against her, alternately nibbling and kissing along her throat. She nickers sweetly, the aftershocks of her own climax still rocking through her pussy and drawing occasional grunts and spurts from him.

“Happy new year, Mum.”

“Happy new year, baby.”