Unspoken Pleasure

Christine responded by grabbing her son's biceps. Mother and son both moaned and sank into something close to an embrace. Christine's nipples scratched at her son's chest. Austin's cock bounced against his mother's thigh.

This is still fine, Austin told himself. I bet right now there are hundreds of mothers and sons hugging each other way tighter than we are now. Mom's got this. I've got this.

"Austin," Christine said, her face looking almost pained.

Austin jumped back "Fuck, Mom, I'm sorry I..."

"No, it's OK. It's just, well, I was going to use the bathroom before I got in the shower but then that woman was there and so I really need to pee. I mean, not bad like before -- thank God -- but still."

Austin smiled at his mother warmly while she rambled. He really wasn't used to seeing her act this way. He was used to his mother being so tough, almost gruff. It was like watching Batman become Robin right before his eyes. Or, to be gender accurate, Batwoman turning into Batgirl. Did that even make sense? Austin wasn't too caught up on his comics lore.

"It's fine, Mom," Austin said, "There's a stall. Just step out and pee and come back in."Content © NôvelDrama.Org.

"What if that woman is out there?" Christine asked.

"In the men's room?" Austin asked.

"I'm here," Christine said.

Austin stood under the vent by the side wall. It was quieter than before. The other woman had stopped singing, but he was pretty sure he could still hear her moving around.

"What if someone else is with her?" Christine asked, "That woman's boyfriend or husband. And he comes in here and sees me, naked, in the men's room."

"You could get dressed again," Austin said.

"That's exactly my point," Christine said, "I'm so wet and warm in here and I don't want to have to go dripping all over the bathroom, or my clean clothes, just to take a piss when there's a perfectly good drain in here." "Oh," Austin said.

"OK?"

"Yes," Austin said, "It's fine. Of course. I'll just turn around, so I don't..."

"Ahhhhhhhhhh, that feels so much better," Christine said. She was already peeing. A long, thin stream of urine shot out of her pussy, arcing slightly, running down over the grating.

And just like that, any pretense of restraint was simply washed away.

Like blood rushing into once-frozen limbs, Austin's sexual self roared back to life. His dick stiffened. His balls began to ache. He stood back, afraid of what could come from simply moving. "Fuck that's hot," Austin said. He didn't think about saying it, but the words dropped out anyway.

"It's just a... natural. Biologic process," Christine said as her pee dripped down to a dribble. "Nothing to get... All worked up about."

"Not at all," Austin said. He stepped forward slightly. His mother bit her lip and another, fuller gush of piss burst out of her. Austin felt it hit his leg, warm. He shifted again, slightly. His mom did, as well, so that now her pussy was spurting right on her son's turgid cock.

Christine smiled, shyly. "Fuck that's hot," she said.

"Very," Austin agreed.

Christine's piss trickled off and she giggled -- a strange shy sound Austin didn't think his mother was capable of making. She stood up very straight, almost military, and gestured at her son.

Austin understood at once. He was so hard, even if he did have to go, he wasn't sure anything would come out. But he ground down, and, from some hidden reserve, a long strong stream of urine shot out of his dick. Austin hit his mother right in the stomach. All over her tiny breasts. Soaked her blonde snatch. Christine gasped and shuddered, her eyes even crossed slightly, as her son bathed her in his pee.

Austin's stream subsided but his erection stayed strong. Maybe even, impossibly, harder than before. Christine looked down at herself, dripping, then over at her son again.

"Well that was prodigious," she said, smirking, "I guess Mommy brings the volume out of you, huh?"

Austin didn't know what to say. Was his mother being flirty? After all this, it might seem hard to believe that Austin was still confused about his mother' intentions, but he was. Hadn't she been the one to talk about self-control? To speak to mental strength and physical fortitude? And yet with every action, Christine seemed to be ripping that armor off till nothing was left but pink, naked, body. Exposed and raw. Ready.

Christine came up closer to her son. The water, again, spilled over her. She tossed her head through the spray, then reached out and touched Austin's arm. Squeezed the muscle. It was meant to be reassuring, but it carried so much more. "Mom, I..."

"It's OK," Christine told him, cryptically, "But I think I'm going to need some cleaning off after all that."

Well, that cleared away any remaining mystery.

Austin didn't pause. He reached back and grabbed the bar of soap he'd brought. He held it up, triumphant. For a moment, he paused and beheld the vision of beauty and sexuality that he was about to slather. Christine stood there and stared at her son, arms tucked neatly behind her back. Like ready to face the firing squad.