2 comments/ 156740 views/ 16 favorites The Clowns In My Pants Ch. 01 By: dreamingtime It started with; no wait, that's not right, it didn't start with tacky magazine personality tests, but it was rekindled by them. My brain is the brain of a human male; on days when I'm not having sex, and usually also on days when I am having sex, my brain fantasises and schemes about having sex. When favourite fantasies would need a refresh; when visions of the girl sitting opposite me on the bus with her cherry red lip-sticked lips wrapped around my cock were becoming blaze, when watching my cock pump punishingly into Paris Hiltons pale pink ass was just another cum fest, when dreams of lesbian twins taking turns riding me while they licked each other to orgasm were dreary old re-runs, on days when my self-stroking hand wanted to test the boundaries of taboo, I would imagine the lover gripping my cock was my mother. These were images living only in the arousal of masturbation; there was no waking thought of making them real. I had no intention of making moves on her like I occasionally tried with those girls sitting opposite on the bus; that is until those tacky magazine personality tests came into my life. You know the type, there's an advert on the front cover that says 'Take the test in our sealed section - Do you like a lucky licky or do prefer a tricky dicky.' Or a cover that says 'Page sixty-nine has our exclusive quiz - Discover you hidden passions, find out what really turns you on.' I found out my mother was a junky for those quizzes. She wouldn't just tick the box for A B or C, she would write expansive comments in the margins. I suppose it was some sort of therapy for her; when you're not getting it the way you want it, release your feelings by writing them down. I read and absorbed her hundreds and hundreds of answers in dozens and dozens of magazines. And it made me want mom for real. It wasn't that she'd said anything about me, or gave any hints that incest might be acceptable, or anything else that might lead you to say to say things to yourself. "Aha, now I see why reading those responses would make a man decide to fuck his mother." No, there was none of that in them, it was just that here was a woman's sexuality opened up to me; here was a woman answering candidly how she liked the taste of pre-cum more than cum itself, how she preferred sex on a bed with lots of, as she called it, the four T's (talking, teasing, and tender touching), how she confessed that she hadn't had an orgasm for 3 years because her partner Rick (she would put a lower case 'p' in front of his name when she referred to him) was just a slam bam bastard man who would hold the back of her head till he came and who refused to ever lick her, and how she took solace in her Jacuzzi. "I don't know what it is about them but whoever I'm with or if I'm alone or even if I'm with pRick, I've never ever been in a Jacuzzi and not felt turned on, even when we are not touching I feel so sexy." I remember the first time I read that comment about the Jacuzzi; yes I read her answers more than once, I read them till I could memorise them. I would take her magazines away once a fortnight. "For the office recycling program mom, I put them straight in the shredder and it helps the environment they reckon." I'd replace them with ones that I'd personally selected for their sex questionnaires. "They're from the front office mom, the girls there don't want them anymore." When I first read her comments about that Jacuzzi I couldn't help that the next time I went to her place I took a walk down to her bedroom and through to the en-suite. I just stood in the doorway looking at the Jacuzzi with a thousand visions growing in my head and an erection growing in my pants. And then Rick the pRick sabotaged the Jacuzzi and she asked me to take a look to see if I knew why it had stopped working. She asked me on a Friday and I turned up the following Thursday lunchtime. In the days and nights in between, my brain had turned my masturbating hand into every orifice of my mothers' body, but despite all this I couldn't convince myself of any pick-up line that would actually work. I formed a rudimentary plan and decided that although there was no believable end-game to the plan, at the very least I might achieve the basis of few good future jerks. I arranged for the afternoon off work and turned up in the heat of the day with a bag of tools and a cold bottle of champagne. "It's in case I get lucky today mom, the champagne is for you. If I get this thing going you'll want a nice cool drink to sip while you're relaxing in the tub." "Awww but that's so sweet, you're doing all the work, I should be giving you something." I didn't say it, but I thought it in a thousand different words. "Give me your body and we'll call it even." As I thought it, I took in as much of her body with my eyes as I could; you never know, there may be something in all those body language and thought transfer mumbo jumbos, I knew I'd need at the help I could get. I kept her with me; talking and chatting, while I worked away. It took me two seconds to confirm her suspicions that pRick really had sabotaged the thing; the stupid prick had removed a safety fuse. I pretended to work away on all sorts of complex fixes for the next half an hour or more, getting her to hold parts in place like she was helping out, my hand holding hers in place. "Here, hold it like this, gee your hands are nice and warm, that's good that's a nice grip, but don't damage those pretty fingers." All the while steering the small talk to where I wanted it to go; which was where those quizzes told me she'd want it to go if it was her lover chatting her up. It was a hot day and we worked up quite a sweat in the confined spaces around some of the plumbing; my own plumbing jealous that her fingers were wrapped around other pipes. "Alright! Go team! I think we got it. Let's see if we can fill this pretty baby up." I turned on the taps. "Phew, that was hot work, I don't know about you but I could do with a cold drink and dive into this baby right away. Hey, how about we do that? What better way to celebrate the return of bubbles than with a bottle of bubbles? Why don't you put that Champers on ice, get a couple of glasses, and get into your bathers; I'll double check things here and spill in some of that bubble bath on the shelf there. I've already got my bathers on." I pointed down to my shorts. "Umm, err, no, you go ahead dear, you've been working hard. I might have a tub later tonight, but you get in, you deserve it, and I'll get us a glass of the lovely champagne you got." "No, c'mon mom, there's plenty of room, it's a big two seater and you've been working just as hard as I have; look you're sweating. Get your bathers on, you'd said you'd give me something for fixing it, so give me the honour of sharing a glass of champagne with you." I said more, regretting the lameness and danger of it as soon as I said it. "I promise to keep my hands to myself under the water." "YOU'D BETTER" she laughed "I'm your MOTHER." "Gee I forgot, you look so young for your age (I lied) that I sometimes forget and have to slap my hands to keep off you." Again I regretted moving my lips before my brain could react and slap my mouth shut. "You're crazy." She smiled. We have always had a close and best-friends sort of relationship, so I wasn't really straying from any normal banter to be teasing her like this. Except that I knew what I was thinking of this time. "Go on, I'm not taking no for an answer, bubbles, bathers and both of us. Hurry, this is filling up fast, I'll see you under the suds." I reached for the bottle of bubble-bath. "Go, quick." I ushered her gently out the door. To my surprise she did come back with the champagne, and in one-piece swimsuit. I gave her a teasing wolf-whistle and quickly said "c'mon, get in, the water is great, and give me that there glass of wine." She got in, but very tentatively and clearly nervous about the whole thing. I had no idea if she was worried about the concept of bathing with her son (albeit we were clothed), or that she knew she was notoriously horny in a Jacuzzi, or a combination of both, or something completely different, but I knew two things; one, any plan I had of sexing her in here was much less than remote unless her tensions were lowered 500%, and two, the idea that she might be thinking of any of those thoughts was turning me on. I'd gone overboard with the bubble bath and it was foaming up around our ears, we had to occasionally sweep it aside onto the floor to keep our heads clear. Our laughter at this situation and the throwing of suds balls at one another, got her relaxed and we settled into chatting about things that would make her say "Ah, yes, I agree, that's exactly what I think, I wish there were more men like you." By the second glass of champagne, I'd moved the talk to flirt on love and relationships. I talked about not having had a girlfriend for a while "I really miss the soft tender touch of hugging if you know what I mean." And then quickly off the subject to joke about the suds in my ears. Sometimes we'd talk about Rick. "If you don't mind my saying mom, I think he's a bit a prick." "Hah, you're not telling me anything I don't already know, that's what I call him you know, Rick the pRick." Of course I knew it; it's why I said it. By the start of the third glass of champagne, I'd let the conversation occasionally bump into the territory of sex. No heavy talk and all just fringe stuff, but because I knew so much about what she liked it was easy to keep pushing her buttons to get her to open up and talk freely. She pointed to the small wardrobe across the room beside the mirror. "I got that because I thought it would make me look good for him, and all pRick said was 'you look like an old slut, why don't you act like one' and he pushed me down on my knees; he didn't even take his pants off, he just held the back of my head until........err...um...I'm sorry I shouldn't have said that...oh my goodness me, oh dear, it must be the champagne, that's too much detail, I'm sorry, err." "It' ok mom, I understand, he's a disgusting pig; you should dump him." "I know, don't worry I'm going to, I haven't seen him for over a week and I'm not letting him back." Another gulp of champagne and she seemed to have quickly drowned any embarrassment she'd caused herself; the conversation quickly got back on track with the odd diversion to gloss over lost loves and missed hugs. One good thing about so many bubbles, no one can see where your hands are and no one can see you are jerking yourself under the swirling water. Since we'd started that 3rd glass of champagne, my pants were around my knees and I'd been stroking my cock, the entire time imagining mom was fingering herself like she wrote she does in a Jacuzzi. I was imagining she was imagining me stroking myself. There is something erotic about masturbating right next to someone who doesn't know you are masturbating. Trust me, it becomes extra erotic if that someone is your mom and you've convinced yourself that they too are masturbating at that very moment. It was too much for me; I lay my head back under the foaming suds and came in a gushing orgasm. The last thing I did before going under, was to look mom in the eye and sent a telepathic message. "I'm going to cum right now mom, why don't you cum too." When the head on my shoulders came back up and the one on my cock started going back down, I realised I wasn't going to fuck mom in the Jacuzzi as planned. But I didn't want to give up completely on the opportunities the day was offering and I looked around hoping for inspiration for a new plan. My eye caught the wardrobe she'd pointed to. With my pants pulled back up and my cock pointing back down, I stood up. "Ok, you spread your legs out and relax and enjoy the rest of your champers, I'm getting out." I took a towel off the rack and began drying myself. I looked at mom and saw she had her eyes closed, already off in a world of her own dreams. I opened the wardrobe and saw two things, a bath robe and some lacy black lingerie. I took my pants off, squeezed the excess water into the sink. "I didn't bring a change of clothes, can I wear this until these quick-dry shorts dry off?" She opened her eyes and looked up to see what I was asking about. "Oh my" see said. Towel in hand, wardrobe door open, facing her slightly, I was naked, my limp but partly swollen cock hanging in full view. She had turned her head away before finishing those two short words and then mumbled "Yes, yes, of course dear, um, yes, of course, sorry, um, just, um, naked, you, um sorry, hadn't expected it." "Sorry I wasn't thinking, I didn't mean to embarrass you, forgive me?" And I said a few other things because she had turned away too quickly for my fantasies and I wanted her to look again. I wanted mom to look to see I had a bigger than average cock; ok I admit it, a measly half an inch bigger than the community accepted average of six inches, but at least no worse than average. I knew that Ricks cock was tiny, she'd variously described it as either 1 or 2, and at the most generous she'd ever got, 3 inches long. She even wrote a ditty about in the margins of one magazine with a survey on 'does size matter to you' (she'd ticked the box for 'No' but the ditty suggested there was some 'Yes' in her mind). Rick the pRick Has a one inch dick. Rick the pRick Has a pin-prick dick. And she did look at me naked again; briefly; to say it was ok and that it was silly of her to be embarrassed and that no harm was done. Her eyes had not been on me much longer than the first time before she turned away again, but it was long enough for me to convince myself that she had taken that briefest of extra time to take in the vision of my cock. I'd give Rick the prick The big arse kick For a long thick dick On a Johnny Jimmy or Mick I don't know who Johnny or Jimmy is, but I know my mother christened me Michael. Mom's brief look at my cock was all I needed, in an instant I'd formulated the next fantasy I'd be jerking off to - instead of turning away she'd say "Mmmmmm you have a beautiful cock." And then invite me over for a closer look. I saw mom taking me in her mouth to suck my soft cock hard, my hand reaching down into the water to find her hand working furiously between her legs. Mom looked up into my eyes as she sucked my cock deep and hard, her hand guiding my fingers into her pussy, taking her mouth off my cock to say "Aaaaahhhhhh." At the first feel of my fingers in her cunt she' say "You can fuck me later but right now I want more of the taste of this." Holding the base of my cock in her other hand, licking up and down my shaft. My mother was making love to my cock with her tongue, her hands now cupping and fondling my balls, taking one into her mouth, gently rolling it around on her tongue. "I want you to cum in my mouth" mom said and plunged deep over my cock, sucking hard and fast. Mom never losing her rhythm as I came in her mouth; sucking, licking and swallowing every drop of my cum. The Clowns In My Pants Ch. 02 "Ok, its safe now, I'm dressed. And you can wear this." Mom looked up to see I was holding up the lingerie. "Oh my goodness, NO!" "You have to, I've got on the only other robe; besides, you know you can trust me; I'll give you an honest opinion; I'll let you know whether it suits you or not and that Rick really is just a stupid prick for not seeing how sexy you are in it." "No, I couldn't." "No nos'. I insist. You trust my opinion don't you." "It's not that, it's just um." "These things don't really work well on everyone and if you are going to ditch Rick, the last thing you want to do is scare off future boyfriends by dressing up like Frankenfurter." "Frank and who?" "Frankenfurter, Rocky Horror Picture Show, the movie? Never mind; just come out wearing this or there'll be trouble. It'll be fun. I promise to be honest, and not to laugh, and if it makes you too sexy I'll try and keep my hands to myself." She laughed. "You better! You're crazy. I've nearly finished this champagne now with all your yakking, get outta here." "Ok, take your time, see you in this soon." She came out about five minutes later and said "Oh my." I was lying on the bed in the robe. "Just as I thought, you'd cheat." She had a towel wrapped around her. "You promised you'd wear that outfit." "I did not." "Now get back in there, I'm not getting off this bed again till we see how good you look in it." I got off the bed and pushed her back in the room and closed the door behind her. All the while she was laughing and saying "You're crazy." She did come out wearing it, looking embarrassed and scared; scared that she'd be told she didn't look any good. In truth she looked like a 50 year old in a corset. (I saw now it was some sort of corset or bodice, or whatever you call those strapless wrap-around things that button up down the front, with matching silk-lined panties that have a button on either side at the hip; all buttons going through large loops that a clumsy lover could undo with ease.) She looked like a 50 year old in a corset designed for a 20 year old. However, she was my mother, and I did want to fuck her, and she probably looked better than most 50 year olds would in an outfit like that. Better at least than the couple of 50year olds I'd fucked as a training run in case this day should ever arrive. (I didn't want to be in a situation where the reality of a saggy wrinkly body is not all the fantasy it cracks up to be. So I picked up two grannies – purely for research purposes you understand.) Mom is relatively small framed and I think this has held her body together better, her tits are small and don't sag down to around her navel like those of the first big titted fat momma I'd fucked. All this raced through my head in two seconds while she stood there and I decided "Mmmm yes mom you are very fuckable indeed." "You look ok" I said. I was trying to be nonchalant and trying to say it like "why are you looking so scared and embarrassed, you look fine, relax." "Turn around, give me the slow fashion-show cat-walk turn so I can see what you look like." I'd been lazing back on the bed with my hands under my head, trying to be calm and not at all sexually interested. When she turned her back to me, I sat up on the edge of the bed and said "What's that?" She looked back over her shoulder and then down to where I was indicating. She reached down to the side of her thigh. "Err yuck, it's sticky, err yuck what is it?" I touched it off her finger and said "Glue, it's glue, it's the jointing glue they use on the pipes, and we must have rubbed some off when we were doing the plumbing. Here, there's another spot on your ankle [there wasn't; it was a lie as an excuse to touch], I'll get it." It was definitely something I hadn't expected and I was thinking "Shit, I'm gone if she works this one out." I knew before I touched it off her finger that it was actually my cum from the water in the Jacuzzi. "I'll check if there's any more." I ran my hands up the outside of mom's legs, around over the middle of her upper leg and down over her knees, along her shins, and then going back up the back of her legs. I knew, depressingly because I wanted to touch, that I'd also scare her off if my fingers went anywhere close to sexual areas. Forcing myself to be content with the feel of mid thigh and the eye level vision of mom's ass. Mom's ass was only a tongue lick away. Lightly collagen dimpled but small and looking relatively pert, with black laced silky panties disappearing in a sharp V between her closed legs; my hands absently searching for cum on her thighs. Me wanting so desperately to move and cup those soft cushions, with my fingers straying under the lace, one finger sliding between her cheeks to softly touch at the entrance to the hole in her ass. I could feel moms involuntary reaction to move away from the touch, but at the same time sighing and then taking control of the reaction to move her ass back to meet my touch. Mom spreads her legs at the feel of my hand sliding over the black V, down and under and between her legs, and up, up to the front, my finger teasingly massaging soft circles over the silk covered pussy. Mom bent over, putting both hands flat on the bed, begging me to fuck her slowly from behind. My trigger fingers touched at the buttons on her hips and quickly mom's panties dropped to the floor; my cock so stiff and pointing to the sky I had to push it down firmly to get it at the angle to enter her. Guiding my cock into moms wet and inviting pussy, she cooing softly "Ah yes" at the feel of a full length inside her. My hands on her hips enjoying the view, watching my cock going slowly in and out of my mother. Spreading her ass cheeks with my fingers, fingers moist from her pussy juices; one wet slippery finger pushing gently at the hole, sliding in, mom saying "Ooh I want your cock there too, I want you to fuck me everywhere son." The Clowns In My Pants Ch. 03 And then Mom broke my micro-second reverie with words that helped me find a new game plan. "I feel like I'm being padded down by the Vice Squad." I put on my best Hawaii Five-0 voice "Ok, book her Danno." She shrieked with mirth "Book me? What did I do? You're crazy." I stood up and Danno said, "This is no laughing matter Miss, I haven't finished the search yet" lifting her arms "now up against the wall," wedging my foot between her legs "and spread 'em." Then I toed her heel outward. "You're crazy" she laughed, and complied, leaving her hands on the wall and her feet 8 inches apart. I squatted back down and Danno said "C'mon Suspect, you know the procedure, spread 'em properly." I tapped both ankles further apart. She was loving the game (hadn't the magazines told me she missed games?) and opened her legs to about two feet. "A Suspect now am I? What am I suspected of doing?" I was padding up the inside of her legs, daring to go within four or five inches of the panties before stroking my fingers round the sides to the front, then standing up to start padding her hips and up the sides and back of her torso. "We have reason to believe you may be packing dangerous goods." "Oh really" she said, and turned around as I'd gone from her shoulders up her arms and back down to her shoulders. "So, am I clean, did you find anything officer?" "No, indeed everything seems to be in perfect order, you look absolutely faultless" I said with intended flattery as I gave her the once over in the outfit. "Gosh, thank you," she said with genuine gratitude at the flattery "so I can go now copper?" "Wait a minute Suspect. So, not carrying any dangerous weapons hey? Then what about this ammunition you've got on you?" "Ammunition?" She was smiling at the game and not sure what I was talking about but hoping it was another compliment. Then I had two surprises and made two almost irrecoverable errors. I reached out with both fingers to pinch the front of the corset covering roughly where I guessed mom's nipples would be hidden underneath. "Yes ammunition, what about these two bullets?" The first and most obvious error was that once again my actions were moving faster than my brain; I'd made a deliberate touching move for my mother's tit area. She reacted instantly "Now THAT is enough, is THAT standard procedure officer?" The fact she'd called me officer, and that there was a faint smile of forgiveness rather than anger in her face, gave me the hope that maybe not all was lost and hopefully I had just moved too soon and too direct. The first surprise I got was that my aim was remarkably accurate. Both hands very briefly held a covered nipple between the thumb and forefinger. The second surprise I got was the knowledge that these were big nipples. I love big nipples. I love big nipples more than big tits. The second error I made was thinking of those nipples and the reaction they would be having on my cock. The error was in wondering about the current state of my cock. The error was thinking about my cock NOT getting hard. I suddenly realised that now was too soon and mom would be gone like a scared rabbit if she knew my cock was hardening up right now. Hardening? There wasn't much hardening left to do. As soon as I got a close up mom's pantied ass, my brain sent a message down to the circus crew surging through the blood in my groin and told them to get ready for a show, the command was clear "Commence tent erection." I didn't need to look down to know the greatest show on earth was in rehearsal mode and the curtain was already up. If mom looked down, those circus clowns would soon be out of a job. So I made the error of thinking I could think my cock into going down. It doesn't work. It has the opposite effect. Try it, next time you've got a rock hard stiffy and you've got the woman of your dreams near naked beside you, try and think your erection into going down. It can't be done. Put it up there with not thinking about white polar bears in the snow; the more you try to not think of those darn bears, the more they put on a show in your head. It's the same with cocks. The brain transmits the "Go down" command and the real leaders of the male body, those cock clowns, take over. "Incoming message does not compute does not compute, override override, cock is hereby ordered to ignore future messages from the brain, continue construction, alert the balls, sperm to remain on high alert." I'd read so much of my mothers desires in those god bless 'em women's magazines, that I knew, above all else, she missed and craved games and fun and laughter. "You are right Miss. That is not standard procedure, this is." I started a tickle war. Shrieks, giggles "Since when [giggle laugh], stop it [smiling laughter], you're crazy [giggling and retaliating], I'll get you." I was too fast, too strong, and too calculating for her to have any chance of winning. So I let her win. Laughter and concentration on controlling where her eyes were able to accidentally peek and where her hands were allowed to safely search for tickle spots, had the effect of fooling my cock clowns; they thought a rival comedy act had stolen their audience so they took the tent pole down. I was controlling the war so easily and I knew the mind of my prey so well, that other games were played within the game. I kept up the Danno routine - occasionally losing character and slipping into the role of the Daleks from Dr Who "Resistance is useless, resistance is useless" - because I knew that I had to take any thoughts of her son from her mind, she had to see me as the playful teasing lover that Rick was not and that she had written so often about. I'd give Rick the pRick, with the pin-prick dick The goodbye flick, for any man that's quick To put a smile on the face Of this old chick I made sure that all my talking, touching and tickling was tender (moms four Ts'). And I tested the buttons on the bodice mom was wearing. I undid the bottom of the five buttons with the deftness of a safe cracker. I was certain mom had no idea that her son had started undressing her. I let Mom drop me on the bed, sitting across my chest; both of her hands were buried warningly into my armpits "Give?" "I concede I concede, you have bested me fair lady." "Fair lady? So, I'm not a suspect any more? I'm off the hook?" "Well I didn't exactly say that. There is still this." I had my hands on her waist, fingers of each hand meeting in the centre and on the fourth button down. I held in my palms the edges of the already undone lace, tugging lightly. "We have reason to believe that this could be illegally over-sexy and holds the power to send men wild. We'll have to confiscate it for forensic testing" said Danno as I undid the fourth button. "You're crazy" she laughed, and then "stop it, you are a real terror." She lightly slapped at the hands of a lover who was now teasingly undoing the third button. "Aha, fell for the old button routine eh" said Danno sounding more like Maxwell Smart. Mom's hands were no longer in my armpits as a threat to keep her tickle war opponent captive. I rolled her over in a single move and reversed our positions. "No fair no fair, you conceded" she said in between giggles and struggles. "All's fair in love and war." I had undone that third button as she was tapping at my hands and the return to tickles was just a diversionary tactic to try and keep up the illusion that everything might be a harmless game. My victory was swift and I gave her no retaliatory favours. She submitted quickly and was breathing deep and fast from the exertion. I was squatting above her and leaned in close to her face "You are so much fun;" inches from moms face, eyeball to eyeball, when she made eye contact I let her watch my eyes move slowly down to her lips only an inch away from my own, very briefly lingering the view there "so much fun to be with" and then rolling my eyes back to see hers still watching. I rolled off to be lying beside her, never moving my face more than a few inches from hers. "Phew, this tickling is heavy work, good exercise" I said feigning the same exhaustion she was under, as though I needed to lie down and recover my breath. I did something as I moved into position. I briefly put one of my knees on the bed as though it was a necessary part of the move. Where I put that knee was between moms own knees as she lay on her back. Her knees moved apart to let mine find a spot on the bed for balance. As I rolled from there to be lying beside her, my knee slipped out slightly and pushed moms further apart. I glanced and saw mom kept her legs apart as I lay beside her. She on her back, me lying on my side beside her, mom and I chatted as we recovered. Our faces so close you couldn't pick out all the features to know who you were looking at, eyes smiling at each other, my small talk directed to exploit knowledge from her magazines, small compliments, targeted observations her heart would relate to, my arm across her resting on her left hip, at one point her hand moving to stroke a loose hair from my cheek, my eyes watching her lips as mine (only an inch away) whispered "Thank you." I saw her eyes watching mine. There was a question in hers. I could see that she wasn't quite sure what that question was. She followed my eyes down to her lips so near, followed them back up to meet hers, I saw her eyes ask that question they weren't sure of, saw her eyes then move down softly, questioningly, to my lips, back to ask my eyes if they could interpret the question. I took my hand off her hip and returned the favour to gently stroke the fingers that had touched my cheek "Your fingers are so warm." I also didn't know what her questioning eyes were asking; were they asking if I was about to kiss, were they asking if she could kiss me, did they want a kiss, were they suddenly realising that her son may have other than harmless tickle fun in mind and were they wondering how to politely but forcefully reject a sons incorrect advances? Because I had no idea what the question was, and because I still couldn't convince myself that my mother would accept any sexually advances from her son, I reverted to the safe territory of the arresting officer game plan (a game plan that might not have me fucking my mother but might, with an awful lot of luck, have the arresting officer fucking her). I moved my hand back to her hip, but this time to the one nearest me – the right. "So are you ready to come down the station for questioning or do we have to send an investigating officer down for a look?" I was surprised by how quickly she got back into character after what seemed such a tender moment. Perhaps she was also feeling more comfortable in the pretend world of games or perhaps I was mistaken and there was no moment at all. "You'll never take me alive copper." She caught me by surprise a second time in the same moment by going for a 2-1 victory in tickle wars. My hand on her right hip had been toying with the button on the side of her panties, feeling the loop and its bond around the button, testing it for future reference. When she attacked my armpits for a tickle, it caused me to accidentally; honestly Sarge it was an accident I didn't really mean it; undo the button. I decided to end the final war even more quickly and decisively than the second. It was a move I had thought of using to end the second but simply forgot in the laughter of the melee. I pulled quickly at the sash around the robe I was wearing, I pulled so fast and sharp that I could feel a warm rope burn through the cloth as it un-circled my body. With the sash rope in my hand I grabbed at moms left hand; as expected she gripped the rope and followed it as I pulled it above her head. Somehow afraid that losing her grip would mean losing the game; mom reached up with her other hand to take a supporting grip. With the sash rope firmly in both hands and fighting to hang on, it was a matter for me to hog tie the rest of the rope in fast loops around her hands. By the time she realised what I was doing, both of mom's hands were loosely tied at the wrists and held above her head. With my strength and position, it was easy for me to hold her there with my left hand. So, there was me and my mom on the bed. Mom flat on her back, hands tied above her head and no real hope of struggling free without my allowing it, mom naked under a black lace bodice with all but 2 of the 5 buttons undone, and in black panties that at a glance still appeared fully in tact but were actually 50% off. And there was me, on my side beside my mother, my right arm and hand fully free to do whatever they wanted, me naked under a bath robe that would be fully open at the front if pushed aside, and an army of cock clowns very rapidly hauling up the centre pole of the main tent. I still wasn't sure what moms mind was thinking but mine, under the override control of my cock clowns, was coming to the conclusion that this was the point of no return. I would rape mom from here if I had to. The Clowns In My Pants Ch. 04 Rape was not my preferred option; I wanted my mom to be a willing participant in my fucking her. We were calming down from the tickling and laughter, and as will so often happen after such an intense period of excitement between two lovers, we relaxed into soft conversation that was shared and tender. "Hold your breath, listen, can you hear?" "What? I can't hear anything." "Exactly, isn't it so peaceful? It's like the whole world stopped to let us laugh. I'm so happy today." "Yes, you're right, it's beautiful; you're the most fun I've had for a long time." "You too" and when lovers realise the world has stopped for them, they soon realise it's up to them to start it again. "So, I'm not under arrest then?" My hand had been on moms breastplate, resting over button number two, feeling her heart pounding from the exercise; "Ker thump Ker thump Ker thump." I'd said earlier when we were smiling and relaxing in shared wind down "Well, you have been cooperative so I could put in a good word for you back at the station." I undid the button. "Oh, thank you officer. But does that mean I'm still under suspicion?" "Well we do have to be thorough if we want to uncover all the evidence." I moved my hand to moms bare stomach, the tip of my middle finger extended over the top of her belly button, very softly stroking from side to side across the smooth skin below, slowly moving my hand down at the same time, stopping to be stroking gently once or twice at moms panty line, then raising my hand to cover the left hip, my forefinger and thumb holding the undone button. "But as I said, I can put in a good word for you, and I'll let you choose who the investigating officer is." I undid the button on mom's panties. There was now nothing holding them on. I left the loose piece of covering and returned my hand to mom's chest, fingers on the one remaining button of the bodice. "Awww, I thought you were the investigating officer?" "There's a few you can choose from. For a start there's Officer Tong." "Tong?" "Well we all call him Tongue, because he really gets his teeth into the evidence and if a Suspect gives him trouble he likes nothing better than to give them a good licking." "REALLY? He likes his work does he?" "Definitely, makes his day if he can make a Suspect scream when he sucks out everything they have to offer." "Do I have to be tied up? This is uncomfortable." "Can you be trusted?" "Can YOU be trusted?" she said and her eyes strained down to where my hand was. "I promise not to tickle." "Deal." It allowed us both to get more comfortable; I'd been leaning on my left elbow for a while and mom's arms and hands were keen to get below her head. Mom moved her right arm straight down by her side, less than an inch separated it and my raging hard-on; her left hand went up to my head to rest on my hair and then onto the back of my next, softly holding me there. To ease the uncomfortableness of my long bent elbow, I extended my left arm straight and took my weight on my hand. To this I moved over mom slightly to be looking down on her face and with my right leg crossed low across her fight leg. "Are you ok there?" mom asked. I wasn't sure if she was referring to my trying to move into a comfortable position or the fact that my fingers were struggling slightly with the very last button. A bodice is elasticised and held up by a tight fit around the body, the last button bears the pressure that all the others had shared, and it requires the bodice sides to be pulled together for the button to be undone. "No, I'm fine thanks." I'd found a way to do all the work with one hand. "And I know Tong will wet his lips at the thought of getting into the evidence in this case" I said, running my finger from moms neck and down the centre of her body to touch of the top of her panties. My hand flattened out here on mom's bare skin, moving slowly and pushing down the loose black lace till my finger tips just touched the first pubic hair. "Mmmm he sounds interesting." There was no doubt she was mine now. "Who are the other investigators?" "Well, there's the dastardly duo of Gently and Probing." "A duo? Not sure I want to have two at once." "Not really two, but one with a split personality. Parents took on both names when they married, you know, hyphenated names, Officer Gentry-Probin, but we call him Gently Probing because he's very thorough and probes deep into the evidence, but he always treats Suspects gently." "Mmmmm, he sounds nice too." "I should tell you though that you might not like his methods, when he gets into the evidence he's always very gentle, he certainly wouldn't want to hurt you, but when he's probing he does enter the back door." "Um perhaps another time, sorry, but I trust that you, err he, would be gentle, but it's not what I want right now, but umm another time might be nice." "That's fine; I just thought I'd mention every possibility." "I'd prefer tongue if you really meant it?" "Tongue? You mean Tong?" "Tong; of course, Tong." "You don't want to know about the others?" She'd been laughing and smiling at the absurdity of the double entendre names. "Others? Goodness me, who else is there? You're crazy." "There's Ivor." "Ivor?" smiling that there must be something in the name but not working out what. "Well of course that's just his first name" and here I moved lifted moms loose bodice aside, one side off to the left then the other off to the right, exposing moms tits for the first time. I'd been eyeballing her all this time but now I couldn't resist a look and glanced down. Moms tits were small but looking well rounded and firm, and her nipples were fantastic, to this day still the best I've ever seen, large and pointing up. I thought "Mmmm beauuuuutiful". Mom said "thank you." So I must have said it not thought it. "Yes, Ivor's just his first name, it's Officer Harden" as mom was thinking the name through in her head and beginning a smile of recognition, I said it for her "Ivor Harden." Mom laughed at her lover's lame jokes and said "Really? Have you? Now what caused that?" fishing for a lovers compliment and straining to look down at the evidence. She was unsuccessful on both counts; the position mom was in, my face too close to hers made her unable to raise her head at the required angle to see my cock, and I missed the lovers opportunity to say that what had caused my Ivor Harden was the beauty of the woman I was looking at. Instead I ignored the opportunity and said "So, what is it, Harden or Tong?" "Tough choice" mom said, and briefly closed her eyes cooed slightly as I circled one of her nipples with my finger. I suddenly remembered all those magazine surveys she'd answered, and one in particular; 'Take our test and discover your hidden fantasies.' At the end of a series of questions, you'd review the results and then self write your top ten fantasies. I was now so certain that I was going to fulfil my fantasy of fucking mom, that I made a plan there and then to fuck her more than once and work my way through her ten fantasies. Hey it's the least I could do right? I may be a bastard for deliberately calculating and plotting to seduce my mother to the point where I was prepared to rape her if I had to, but even I've got a heart, of sorts. She gives me my fantasy; I give her ten in return. Fair? I remembered number three on moms list. I remembered it would probably never make my own top 100, but hey this was my mom and she deserved a good fucking right, and besides, I liked numbers 2, 6, 7, 8 and 10; and numbers 4 and 9 sounded interesting too. I said, "Well, we could come to an arrangement that I have always wanted to try" I lifted the panties from the sweet treasure they were covering and moved to be over the top of her, carrying my own weight on my knees that I'd planted between moms legs and my left hand that I'd put by her side. My right hand was still teasing around her nipples; I rolled my thumb over one of mom's nipples before moving across to tease around the other. "Mmmm, what arrangement would that be?" "We send Officer Harden in first," the position I was in, Hardens balls were resting in moms pubic hair right now "and when Harden blows the case open, we immediately send Tong down to suck out all the evidence that Harden has left behind". Fantasy number three for mom was "I want a man to cum inside me and then lick his cum from my pussy until I orgasm, and as soon as I climax I want him to come up and kiss me passionately and I'll taste his cum on his tongue. I'll do anything for a man who'll do that for me." Mom didn't wait to find out if she was reading the Harden Tong duet correctly or not. Mom reached my lips with hers and began a wild passionate kiss, she grabbed the hand that was toying with her breast and helped it touch more directly, more lustfully, more wantonly, and her mouth on mine let out a pleading "Aaahhhh" as her hand, leaving mine to work on her tits, pushed my hips down. Officer Harden entered the Suspects premises and took pride in his work.