The Session Must Not Be Interrupted
by SleepyShamrock
My last year of school was over and summer had begun. At 18, I was living with my Mom, no job prospects, in no rush to get to college, and just ready to kick back for a bit before the next stage of life began. It had been just me and Mom since I was about 11-years-old. Dad left without a word, and she threw herself into making sure I never was the worse off for it. Truthfully, she had done a great job; birthdays, school functions, sports…you name it, Mom took care of it. She had pretty much sacrificed any private life she could have had and made it all about us. Sometimes I felt guilty about that—not just for Mom, but for the men, as well. My mother was quite a catch. Now only in her mid-forties, Mom, (Roberta), was five-foot-five, curvy with dark hair, pale skin and bright blue eyes. Her face showed faint lines of age, but they only served to make her sexier, and her breasts made generous, D-cup swells in the t-shirts and sweaters she wore.
I suppose it’s not unusual for a boy to fantasize about his mother, particularly one who was as close to his Mom as I had been my whole life. And boy, let me tell you…ever since puberty, I’ve had hundreds—each more explicit than the last. I’d never act on it, of course; the thought never occurred to me. However, to NOT dream about such a desirable woman seemed even more depraved somehow than the images that were near-constantly floating through my mind.
A few months ago, at the suggestion of her best friend, Gina, Mom started therapy. She knew I’d be leaving the house soon, and the realization, along with the abandonment she’d felt for years since my asshole Dad left had been playing havoc with her thoughts and emotions. I was proud she had sought help, and happy that Gina, the mother of my best friend Tom, had suggested it. And, not for nothing, but even in only a few short months, Mom seemed happier, lighter, and if possible, even sexier than she had ever been. She had also begun smoking a vape, and where I suppose I should have been concerned about that, to tell you the truth, the vision of thick, white ribbons of smoke twirling through her raven hair, and drifting clouds slowly passing over her crimson, painted lips was enough to convince me to keep my mouth shut…and my hand on my increasingly hardening cock.
After the first month of her treatment, which was done exclusively online and via telephone, her doctor, Dr. Andrew, sent her a pin—sort of a brooch to mark the milestone. It was like the chip they give recovering alcoholics in AA, I guess, but prettier. Mom wore her pin proudly every day, and the twinkling gold next to her heavenly cleavage was easy to look at. It wasn’t until she started wearing the brooch that I realized Mom had taken to wearing more revealing tops and tighter clothes overall. Once again, however, my 18-year-old hormones convinced me to keep quiet about her new fashion choices.
“I’m going to be busy for a couple of hours,” Mom said, breezing through the living room where I was playing video games. “Time for my appointment with Dr. Andrew.” She was wearing a white v-neck pull over top which was so sheer, her black lace bra was easily visible from underneath. The bra held her massive breasts aloft while accentuating the cavern of her amazing cleavage, and her ever-present pin sparkled next to her pale, lightly spotted skin. A thin tendril of smoke trailed behind her as she walked and vaped, her crimson lipstick making a ring around the mouthpiece. I almost blushed, thinking of how it would feel to have that ring around my swollen, wanting cock. I paused the game.
“You know, Mom,” I said, causing her to stop and listen. “I think I’d like to sit in on this session, if that’s alright.” Her eyes became somewhat vacant, and with a sort of weird, empty expression, she said,
“The session must not be interrupted.”
“I know,” I replied, thinking it a strange response. “I won’t make a sound. I’m just curious about the whole thing. Maybe it could be helpful in resolving some of my own issues with school, Dad, and life, too, ya’ know?”
“The session must not be interrupted,” she repeated, exactly as she had said before. It was very strange. She wasn’t looking directly at me, but kind of past me, or even through me as she said it.
“Mom, is everything okay?”
“The session must not be interrupted,” she repeated again, and before I could get to the bottom of all of the weirdness, I noticed some tiny stones on the pin she had gotten from Dr. Andrew begin to glow warmly and kind of pulse.
“What…?” I whispered, leaning closer to the pin and to Mom’s fantasy-inspiring breasts.
“The session must not be interrupted,” I heard her voice say once more, but this time it sounded as if was much further away and echoing. What was with those beautiful lights? Suddenly, a small stream of thick, white smoke started to slowly pour out of a tiny hole in the pin. I was too enthralled with the warm, blinking, pulsing lights to pull away, even as it poured faster and thicker, clouding my face in a warm, thick fog.
The smoke smelled sweet…it smelled like a mixture of relaxation, sex and sleep…it smelled like Mom, and I could feel my jeans tightening around my ever-hardening cock as my mind clouded with the warm, sleepy, sexy smoke.
“muh…mmmmom…?” I think I was able to say before my mouth hung open and a strand of drool dripped from my bottom lip.
“The session must not be interrupted,” Mom’s heavenly voice said, and of course she was right. It was the last thing I heard before I faded…before I drifted away on Mom’s sexy cloud of sleep…sleep…I had to go into a deep, deep sleep.
During my nap, I had the most amazing dreams I ever had. I usually didn’t remember my dreams, but this one stuck with me, and God am I grateful. In my dream, Mom came into my room where I laid on my bed, surrounded by a thick blanket of foggy, sleepy smoke. She was wearing only her lace bra and panties, and her tits bounced and jiggled as she walked. Mom was taking deep pulls on her vape, blowing the smoke into the fog that surrounded me, warming it somehow, and making my already hard-cock swell impossibly harder, thicker and longer. I couldn’t move for some reason, as happens in dreams, I suppose, but Mom seemed to understand. She smiled a vacant, sexy smile down at me as she gave her panties a firm tug, releasing the Velcro that held them in place and freeing her pussy for me to see. It was shaved in a landing strip, and I could feel the head of my cock pulse at the dreamy sight. Who knew Mom shaved, let alone manicured her pussy?
She slowly, dreamily, straddled me while taking another long drag of sexy smoke. As she slowly descended upon my 18 year old manhood, impaling herself on my lust, she exhaled a ridiculously thick cloud of sexy, sleepy smoke into the air. Somewhere in the distance I could hear ringing…no…music. The tune was light and sounded as if it was coming from a tiny music box—but it was ever-present, and it served to somehow make the entire event even sexier than it already was.
Mom slowly bounced, squeezed and grinded on top of me. The smoke made lazy waves and circles with her movements, and her movements, almost in slow motion, coincided with the beat of the tiny music in the air. Her pussy was magical; her muscles squeezing me, milking me as I laid there in a sexual daze, unable to move…no desire to resist. As I felt myself getting closer, however, I could feel some movement coming back to my fingers and toes. I was able to match her grinding with small hip-thrusts of my own. When I felt her pussy gush down upon my rod, however, I went wild. I grabbed her, pulled her towards me and buried my face in her tits, like I’d wanted to do since I was 12 years old, and screamed. As I came longer and harder, more intensely than I ever had, I bit down into her left breast and sucking in an automatic response to my own mother’s tits. I’m sure I gave dream-mom quite the hickey before I collapsed back onto my bed and once again drifted away, sexually exhausted, on the cloud of Mom’s sleepy smoke.
I woke several hours later, drenched in my own cum. It had been a long time since I had had a wet dream, and I had never, never had one like that. I laid there for several minutes, absent-mindedly smearing the cum into my skin as I smiled, recalling all that I could, moment-by-moment, of my tryst with dream-mom. I swear I could still smell the sleepy smoke…still hear the light strains of music as I laid there in bliss. I eventually rose when I heard Mom’s bedroom door open—I suppose her session with Dr. Andrew was over. After cleaning myself up and pulling the soiled sheets from my bed, (couldn’t have Mom finding those!), I came downstairs where Mom was rooting through the kitchen to find something to feed us for supper.
“Good session?” I asked, placing my hand on her shoulder from behind and lightly kissing her neck. For a second it seemed strange that I would do that. I’d never kissed Mom like that before, had I? Her soft moan in reaction to my affection, though, combined with the hard throb in my pants as I smelled the perfumed vape smoke in her hair when my lips met her skin served to make me abandon all doubt.
“Yes, it was,” she said. She turned, took my face softly in her hand and gave me a kiss on the lips. It was longer than a peck, but shorter than a lustful affection, and it made my head spin. “Thank you for not interrupting.”
“The session must not be interrupted,” I heard my own voice say from far, far away. The gold pin on my shirt, the one Mom and I both wore and always had…always had…we’d always had these pins…began to pulse warmly against my chest as I spoke.
“Good boy,” she said, taking a deep drag off of her vape. I moaned, almost automatically at hearing Mom call me a good boy. “You’ve always been such a good boy.” She slowly pulled closer, opened her hot, crimson lips, and we melted into a deep, smoky kiss. Somewhere in the distance there was music…just like there’s always been.