Successful prank
A Successful Prank
Saturday
— Well, aren't you a handsome sight! — my mother looked at me angrily, as I barely stood on my feet.
— Mom, — my tongue was slurring, — forgive me, … I didn't mean to …
— You should see the others …, — I giggled stupidly and, taking a step, almost fell, leaning on her, wrapping my arms around her. — Vovka, he's completely …
— I'm not interested in others, they can go bang their heads against the wall for all I care! — Mom was getting angry. — But why did you get so drunk? I told you! You pig!
— But it's a wedding!
— That's no reason to get so drunk!
I found it funny. I wasn't
that drunk, just a bit tipsy, I just wanted to play a prank on my mother, and then, looking at her with a sober gaze, say reproachfully:— How poorly you think of your own son! And you call yourself a loving mother!
— You're the best I have, — I could barely move my tongue, swallowing the ends of words. — The most beloved, … there's no woman more beautiful or better than you in the world …
— Do you know how much I love you? — I squeezed her tightly in my embrace and tried to kiss her on the lips.
— Ugh, you smell like a beer barrel! — she dodged the kiss. — Drunk as a skunk, what a disgrace! Tomorrow the whole building will be talking about it.
— Did anyone see you at least? — she looked into my cloudy, slightly open eyes. — Are the old ladies sitting on the bench?
— They are! — a drunken smile played on my face. — They're such sweethearts! Galina Petrovna even said I'm the best boy in our building and if I were older …, she'd marry me without a second thought …
— Otherwise, she might just give herself to me …, and even then, … only if my mom doesn't find out …
But she didn't let me finish, sighing heavily, she blurted out:
— A good boy, you'll be ashamed to go outside tomorrow! Oh, … what a disgrace!
— And you got involved with Galina Petrovna, that old gossip. She could be your mother, or even your grandmother!
— Mom, I even touched her butt and …, — taking a deep breath, I looked into her eyes, — … checked out what kind of bra she was wearing. She's old, she's old, but her underwear is top-notch.
— And I actually like older women, they're like aged wine …
— Oh, how they make your head spin …
— I'd gladly … her, — I didn't finish what I wanted from Galina Petrovna, understanding that mom knew perfectly well the train of my thoughts, but I couldn't resist and after a short pause added, — … trample her.
— And aren't you ashamed to tell me such things?
— Mom, she's a woman and quite attractive at that. She's got everything in the right places and could give young girls a hundred points head start, — I barely moved my tongue, pretending not to understand her indignation. — You, of course, are much better …
— I've never met a more beautiful and sexier woman …
— Aren't you ashamed! — my mother sighed hopelessly, trying to avoid the awkward position of discussing her feminine virtues. — You've disgraced yourself in front of the whole courtyard! Now they'll look at you with reproachful eyes when they meet, saying you're chasing after old ladies under their skirts!
— But why, — I was sincerely surprised. — I'm telling you, she's still got it, and I like older women. She said she'd be waiting tonight …, if my mom lets me go …
— I didn't ask her for it, she offered it herself …
— Can I go to her place for an hour?
She remained silent, but looked at me in such a way that if I had been truly drunk, I would have sobered up instantly.
— Go to bed, you hero-lover! You can barely stand on your feet, and you're planning to go to Galya! Sleep it off first! Then you can go …, — she made a short pause, looked at me with an appraising gaze and continued, — … trample …
***
I was sitting on the sofa, humming a tune, while she was unlacing my sneakers, lamenting:
— And to what state did you have to get drunk that you can't even undress yourself? Be quiet, or the neighbors will hear! Singing your heart out!
But I didn't listen to her, continuing to hum louder and louder.
— Be quiet! — she straightened up, finally taking off my sneakers. — If you have no shame yourself, at least spare me, don't disgrace me!
I smiled stupidly, looked at her and hugged her, grasping the firm, plump buttocks with my palms, and pressing my face against her lower belly:
— Mommy, … how I love you …
— I can see how much you love me! — she broke free from the immodest embrace. — If you loved me, you wouldn't get so drunk!
— I gave him my all, — she began unbuttoning the buttons on my shirt and tears glistened in her eyes. — And he …
Finishing with the shirt, mom started on the jeans. I fell onto the sofa on my back, and she pulled them down along with my underwear.
— Oh, … underwear …, underwear …, — I laughed, trying to grab the edge of the sliding fabric.
Mom stopped for a moment, giving me a chance to pull them up over my hips and, smiling kindly, continued pulling down the jeans:
— You've grown quite the package, it's time to get married, but you have no sense! Get married, let your wife babysit you!
I was lying on the sofa in just my underwear, watching as my mother gathered my clothes scattered on the floor and, sighing heavily, headed to my room to make the bed.
— No, she really is beautiful, — a sad thought flashed through my head. — And why is she still alone? If she weren't my mother …
***
It seemed to me that it wouldn't be difficult for her to find a worthy partner, but I never saw her surrounded by men.
A slightly plump, forty-four-year-old woman couldn't be called a classic beauty, but beautiful — that's for sure! She had some unique feminine charm. A soft sexuality and eroticism were present in all her movements, in her manner of conversation, and it was no wonder that about five years ago I used to peek at her when she was showering or changing. But I was caught red-handed. She didn't throw a tantrum, didn't scold me severely, but quietly said:
— Seryozha, why are you peeking at me? Do you want to look at a naked woman?
— Come here, ask what interests you, — she looked at me calmly. — I'll explain everything to you and if necessary, I'll show you.
I lowered my head, burning with shame, not knowing what to answer.
— It's not good to do that, — her erotic voice sounded softly. — You mustn't peek at me or other women.
— Do you understand me?
I nodded my head, and she hugged me, pressed me to herself:
— That's good, I knew you were a smart boy …
And I felt the tense nipples under the thin fabric of the recently seen naked breasts, and a pleasant languor spread through my body …
Yes, if she weren't my mother, I knew what to do …
***
— Get up, — her voice interrupted my memories, — let's go, I made your bed …
But I remained silent, pretending to be asleep, quietly sniffling. She shook my shoulder, tried to wake me up, lift me, but to no avail.
— Well, as you wish, sleep here, — she grumbled discontentedly, slipping a pillow under my head, covering me with a sheet and, sighing heavily, went to my room for some reason, closing the door tightly behind her.
***
I was choking with laughter. I imagined how mom would be surprised now, would laugh, justifying herself, saying she understood right away it was a prank, but decided to play along, when I appear before her sober.
Getting up from the sofa, I tiptoed to the door and quietly opened it a crack, trying to approach her unnoticed as she sat in the armchair half-turned to the door behind the computer monitor. My breath caught …, mom was watching a pornographic film I had recently downloaded but hadn't had time to watch yet …
— Well, that's it, — the bony hand of shame squeezed my heart. — Tomorrow she'll give me a real talking-to …
The fact that it was of quite explicit content wasn't a big deal, she wouldn't have said anything, and I knew what to answer, but this was a film … about incest! About sexual relations between a rather mature mother and her young son.
What was happening on the screen horrified me, blood rushed to my face, echoes of heartbeats pounded in my temples. The scene was quite rough and explicit.
A naked adult woman was standing before a young man on his knees and caressing with her lips his rather substantial-sized genitals. To my horror, her body, hairstyle, and even facial type vaguely resembled my mother's features. If it weren't for the Japanese woman, it would definitely be my mother!
— I'm in trouble! — I trembled inside, imagining what she would tell me tomorrow, watching as the male member penetrated deeper into the female mouth. — What will she think of me?
— Good thing there's at least some censorship, — a weak consolation flickered in my soul.
Muttering something in Japanese, the woman led the man to the floor, and he lay on his back. Positioning herself between his widely spread legs, she leaned over his genitals, clasping the protruding member between her breasts, portraying unearthly pleasure on her face.
Quickly moving her little hands, squeezing the hefty snow-white buns from both sides, looking devotedly into his eyes, she muttered something in her language, most likely some words of love and passion.
It was silly, but for a second it seemed that this was happening between us, feeling a dull ache in my lower abdomen, and my member went into battle-ready mode.
— That's all I needed, for complete happiness, — I smirked, — for her to see this …
Mom watched calmly what was happening on the monitor screen. It seemed her face expressed no emotions, if not for the blush that appeared on her cheeks.
She sighed heavily, and … her palms squeezed the hefty buns from the sides.
Mother's breathing became uneven when the first clots of semen splashed onto the woman's chest, neck, face and the Japanese woman, releasing the vise of her breast embrace, pressed her lips to the head shuddering in the throes of orgasm, immediately taking it deep into her mouth.
The woman was consuming the remnants of semen with such pleasure, caressing herself with her hand between her legs, that … this was the last straw. Mom, closing her eyes, threw her head back and ran her finger over her lips. They obediently parted slightly, and the little finger slid inside unhindered, like a small penis. The plump little lips greedily enveloped it, gently sucking, while her free hand went down, slipped between the folds of her robe, and it seemed to me that … she was caressing her perineum.
This was a real shock! For the first time, I saw in her an ordinary woman with her own weaknesses, dreams, and fantasies.
— I wonder what she's thinking about now? — flashed through my head. — Oh, if only about me …
She was more beautiful than ever!
Suddenly, mother perked up, looked at the monitor screen and, before I could close the door, she turned off the film and abruptly rose from the chair, as if ashamed of her momentary weakness …
A moment later, I was lying on the sofa, covered with a sheet, pretending to be a deeply sleeping person.
About five minutes later, she entered the room, came up to me and, straightening the sheet, gently touched my shoulder:
— Seryozha, get up, … go to bed …
But I didn't utter a sound, quietly sniffling.
— Oh, what did I do to deserve such grief, — she muttered quietly and headed to the kitchen.
The kettle hissed quietly, … she clearly didn't feel like sleeping …
***
— Seryozha, are you asleep? — she shook my shoulder. — Go to your own bed.
— Wake up, — she didn't calm down, continuing to wake me up.
I was lying, turned away to the back of the sofa, slightly pulling my knees up to my chest. I had no desire to get up, to go to my own bed. And my member, from the bad thoughts in my head, was sticking out indecently, stretching the fabric of my underwear.
— If she doubts that I'm asleep, — a dissatisfied thought ran through my head, — I'll have to convince her of it. Even if they fire cannons – I won't get up!
Unexpectedly, grabbing my shoulder, mother turned me onto my back, sat down next to me on the edge of the sofa:
— Wake up! Come on, get up!
But I continued only to quietly sniffle, pretending to be a deeply sleeping person.
— And you had to get so drunk that you can't be woken up! — she exhaled discontentedly, looked at me intently for a few seconds and got up from the sofa. — And what am I supposed to do with you?
I slightly opened my eyelids and looked at her, standing before me in a short, tight-fitting slip that was much higher than her knees. The reflections of the weak light from the bedside lamp in the bedroom played on her sweet face, allowing me to see her beautiful figure, wide hips, slender, slightly plump legs, hefty breasts freely hanging under their own weight. She didn't hide her body at all, but on the contrary, it emphasized her beauty and sexuality. The dark spots around the nipples clearly visible through the thin pink fabric made my head spin, forcing me to strain my vision harder. And for a second, I imagined a lawn of curly hairs under her slightly protruding belly.
— Exactly, — I smiled inwardly, for some reason not embarrassed by the slightly tented sheet in the groin area, — like the Japanese actress in the film.
— Oh, — sighing heavily, she headed for the door. — Sleep …
But near the door, she unexpectedly stopped and, turning her head, looked in my direction again, pondering something. Sighing heavily, she closed the door, and the room immediately plunged into darkness, only faintly illuminated by streetlights.
I was terribly surprised that the door was closed