Things my Mother Taught Me - 3

I awoke next morning to find myself alone in the bed for Samantha was already up and dressed which was a disappointment as I was hoping that we might continue with the conversation that was cut short when she frustratingly fell asleep, almost in mid-sentence. Last night as we snuggled down with me spooning behind her she made a hint that perhaps things had got a bit sexual at the party and the fact that she had been in the company of my mother left my imagination little doubt that there must have been some of that going on. I was hoping that the way the conversation was going that I might hear a confession that she might have, like my mother, had 'sampled' a black cock. She had begun to say something about the black guys who had been at the dance club party the previous evening but then the next thing I heard as I nursed my stiff dick was her gentle snoring!

It was a work day for her and she was in the kitchen just tidying away her breakfast dishes when I came down and that was when I realised how late it was and that I had overslept. I didn't share with her that after she had fallen asleep that I spent quite a while, wide-awake, stroking my cock as I let my imagination run riot thinking on the face of the black guy who had looked out of the window of the apartment when I had collected her and mum after her call to be picked up.

"There you are at last", was her response to seeing me, "I didn't want to wake you, you seemed to be enjoying such a deep sleep that it would have been cruel to have wakened you. Did you have a hard day yesterday or something?"

Damn right, I'd had a hard day but not the 'hard' that she was referring to. Through the day thinking of her being fucked by the black company she was going to be with last night had kept me hard to the point of being painful. Once she was home after the party and I had fucked her myself in the shower hadn't relieved the tension and it would only take me a moment to envisage the scene for my stiffness to return.

"No, I did have quite a day at work but it's always the same when you go out without me, I do find myself worrying about you and whether you are alright. I guess it must be nervous tension or something that keeps me awake," I said unconvincingly.

She didn't say anything but I did notice a smile cross her lips that did nothing to answer the question that was upmost in my mind. "Ah, so did you have a nice time last night? You seemed to be a little bit tipsy last night and didn't give me an answer when I asked."

"Hmm, yes it was good. Nice meal, nice company and, your mother is such a hoot, I really like being with her, she's so much fun to be with."

That didn't answer the question. "Erm, and how did you end up at that flat?"

"Oh, a couple of the guys suggested when the restaurant closed that we might like to finish off the evening with a drink at their place. I wasn't too sure but Mum was all for it and I could hardly say no, could I?"

"And did you do anything other than have a drink," I asked in what I hoped was a jokey way.

She joked back with a pretend pout, "Goodness, whatever are you suggesting? That would be telling. Let's just say they were very nice cocktails that they made us!"

Damn, that told me nothing but before I could ask the question in a more direct way she cut me short.

"Heavens, is that the time? I must be off or I'll miss the bus!" She looked around and found her sports bag, picked up her coat and quickly gave me a peck on the cheek. "Can you get yourself something for dinner, I've promised your Mum I'll go to the gym with her tonight, we are joining a new class, Pilates or something, and I don't think I had better have a meal beforehand. I'll be going straight from work."

She didn't wait for me to respond and before I knew it she was gone.

I waited for the 'dust to settle' and once I was sure that I wasn't going to be disturbed by her unexpected return I went back to the bedroom and revisited the laundry basket where she had tossed her clothes last night. I was amused to see that her bra had made an appearance and was now laying on top of the pile and I figured that she must have retrieved it from her handbag when she was getting herself ready this morning. Beneath the bra was the object of my attention, her panties which I had quickly inspected last night. I pulled them out and gave them a more thorough inspection. Yep, that was definitely the residue of someone's cum and for sure it wasn't mine.

I went back into the bedroom and I lay back on my unmade bed and held the black lacey panties to my face. Oh my god, the aroma left no doubt in my mind that she must have been fucked when she was still wearing them. Had she bent over chair perhaps and pulled them to one side to let a cock, a black cock, push into her pussy or …. had she previously taken them off and then put them back on after having her pussy filled with black man's cum or ….. was I smelling what had seeped out when I had collected her and we were driving home?

Such were the scenarios that went through my head as I deeply breathed in the scent. It was heavenly and needless to say my reaction was for my own cock to have assumed an erection to be proud of. I took the panties away from my face and with trembling hands wrapped it around my stiff dick and imagined the softness that I felt to be her wet cunt …. wet from someone else's cum being inside her. It took but a few strokes of the soft material before I was spurting and adding my own contribution to the dampness that was already there.


I did as I was told, that is, I got my own dinner by stopping by a Pizza place on my own way home. It's something that has been happening more and more over the past few months; her finding some excuse to be late home after work and for me to eat alone waiting for her return. I shouldn't really be too concerned about what she gets up to in my absence (or should I say in 'her' absence) for she is invariably doing something in the company of my mother; going to the gym; the dance club night or, recently, some book club they have joined together. Whatever the reason I should neither be concerned or complain for it has become a regular thing now that at the end of her evening that she gives me a call to be collected and then when she does return home she is always fired up and can't wait to get into bed and for me to give her a right royal fucking.

She will always go straight to the shower saying something about having got all sweaty at either the gym aerobics class or from doing the bloody Samba or whatever it is they do at the dance club. I asked one time why she didn't shower at the gym and her excuse was that she thought the changing rooms to be grubby and anyway she didn't want to waste any time getting home to me. As I say, I had no complaints for there would be no preamble or any foreplay involved, indeed, she doesn't even like me to touch her in any way prior to my sticking my dick in, she just pulls me into bed and demands that I fuck her.

It seems like it has almost become a ritual and I like it. When I made a comment a while back at how much she has changed from when we first got married she gave some explanation that going to these physical activities just does something to her. "Releases 'my enzymes'", or some incomprehensible excuse that I didn't understand or, "It's just great fun being with your mother" which was something I could understand for my mum has always been great fun although she can be a bad influence if you let her.

Another reason I was happy to be 'home alone' was that it gave me an opportunity to go through her lingerie collection (actually, that sounds a bit grand, it's more accurate to say 'knickers drawer') for I have added to my fetish of voyeurism the delights of putting on and wearing a pair of her panties. I suppose it stems from that time when I took her used panties from the laundry basket and wrapped them around my cock and discovered the delicious feel of the soft silky material. There was something so perverted about doing such a thing that appealed to my imaginings and it took my mind back to when as a young boy growing up I became curious and used to look at the women's section of the mail order catalogues that my mother used to have. It was fascinating to see those colour pictures of bras, garter belts, corset and have the hidden secrets of what ladies wore beneath their dresses revealed. Add to that my mother's behaviour, the way she used to flaunt herself around the house all the time wearing the sort of things that the pages displayed, it didn't help dampen down my curiosity or imagination.

There's no doubt in my mind that it was those experiences of 'peeking' at the forbidden which made me into the voyeur I am today. I find there's nothing nicer than having a wank whilst looking at something I'm not supposed to (such as the interracial websites that I have bookmarked as favourites) and now I have discovered the delights that comes from sniffing and actually wearing my wife's panties it has added a whole new meaning to be sharing her experiences! Having those thoughts that she might have been wearing these when she had been with the black fellows at either the gym or at her club dancing and that maybe they had pulled them off her before fucking her; to have a few hours wearing them before she gets home, well, it just gives such a thrill. I just had to ensure that they were returned to the wash basket before she gets home … and that's what caused things to take a turn for the worse (or should that read, better?).

I thought that my new interests had gone unnoticed (that had always been the plan!) but then I began to feel nervous about not being so careful when she started having suspicions of her own. It was little things, the way she would look at me and the remarks she made, such as, "…. have you been messing (literally) with my underwear? …"

She must have realised that something had been going on as I had obviously moved things that she had deliberately folded in a particular way and I had not returned them exactly as she had placed ….

… then there were the stains which I could not deny 'may' have been mine.

Most embarrassing was when she came home earlier than expected and actually found a pair of her panties in the pocket of my dressing gown where I had hastily stuffed them. She had accepted the offer of a lift to come home rather than call me. It was shock to hear the key in the door that evening and I didn't had time to put them back where she had left them. Normally by the time she got home I would have changed back into my own pants having quickly washed and dried hers. Not this time, the evidence of my ejaculation was clear to be seen and I really had no answer when she spotted them and pulled them out of my pocket.

However, it was a bit of a watershed moment. When I made some kind of weak excuse as to why I had indeed gone through her drawers (literally!) and added to my confession the thoughts that went through my head she surprised me by being more amused than angry. It was then my turn to be shocked when she casually mentioned that she knew at what I had been looking at on the internet and that maybe my fantasies were not just make-believe and that, yes, she and my mum did do a bit more than just exercise and dancing. I didn't know what to say.

At the time she wasn't any more explicit than that but I didn't press for any details, I was just more relieved than anything else that she hadn't taken offence. More to the point, from that day on, whenever she planned to be 'late home from work' she ensured the pair of panties that she had discovered in my dressing gown pocket were neatly placed on my pillow with the unspoken message that they were there for my use later that day. We didn't speak about it, it was just accepted that this was 'my thing' and she was happy for me to indulge myself in this way … at least that was my interpretation!

Samantha and my mum it seemed to me became more open about their relationship and their interests. Maybe it was because she was becoming more aware of my own particular interests (the interracial stuff) and the pleasure I got from 'watching' instead of 'doing' and, now, my latest curiosity in ladies underwear.

Certainly Sara (as Samantha always referred to my mum as) would have had no hesitation in sharing the secrets from my past when my mother had known and almost encouraged me to spy on her and her boyfriends. She also confessed that this 'book club' that she said they had joined was nothing of the sort, it was just what they called their visits to one of the gym guy's flat after they finished at the gym, the flat where I had collected them from after the party a few months back. Apparently, it had become a regular thing and she hoped that I wasn't going to be angry to learn that her method of 'exercising' sometimes extended beyond Pilates!

I told her I wasn't at all angry and I said something to the effect that I was pleased that she had found new interests. I thanked her for being discrete.

Mother, on the other hand, was not known for her discretion and I would not have been surprised to learn that my mum was actually coaching my wife and that this acceptance of my behaviour was all part of a long term plan. Whatever, whilst nothing specific was said it became a habit that on evenings when they were out together (and, in my mind, being fucked by black men) the expectation was that I would be indulging myself with wearing her panties and wanking myself silly as I let my imagination wander. I knew that she expected it because now no mention was made that those panties she had left on my pillow in the morning were always to be found in the wash basket when later that night she added her sweaty gym clothes.

It was turning into a strange kind of marriage but one with which we both became comfortable. As I said, there were no particular discussions about our preferences, it just became an accepted thing that I was aware and approved of her spending some of her evenings with my mum and for them to be doing whatever it was that they did with these black guys, whilst she was equally aware that I would be at home indulging myself in my own particular way.

However, things stepped up a level when I had to go off on a business trip which would take me away for a few days. In the past when I had to go away Samantha would be nervous about being left on her own, this time, when I told Samantha about it her reaction was to tell me not to worry and that, "… oh that's nice, Sara can come and stay and keep me company."

The look in her eye when she said it told me more she was almost looking forward to me going. I was even more suspicious when on the morning I was packing my bag and she said, "Don't forget to take these …" and handed me a neatly folded bundle wrapped in tissue paper " … and don't forget to call and let me know how you are getting on."

I didn't say a word as with a smile I carefully stowed the package in the bottom of my suitcase; she smiled when she saw that my stiff cock was already tenting my boxers.


Later that evening after having had a full day of meetings I checked in to my hotel and something to eat via room service. It had been a long day and as I picked at my food I unpacked my bag before taking a shower, bed and an early night. The smile I had earlier in the day when I packed returned when I got to the bottom of the case.

I unwrapped the tissue covering and as anticipated revealed were pairs of her panties, three pairs to be exact. Samantha had obviously chosen wisely for they were all of the lacey silky fabric that she had figured out I favoured. I pulled on a black pair with the tiny pink bows and I swear that I shuddered as I felt the material slide over my already stiffening cock. I looked at myself in the mirror and my pleasure was enhanced as I adjusted the fit with the restricting garment encasing my balls. My erection continued to grow as I watched and as I shifted so my cock began to poke above the flimsy waistband. I lay down on the bed and thought as I picked up the telephone the little pink bow in the centre just below the swollen knob of my penis made for a charming sight.

I was aware that this night was Dance club night' and had delayed calling until I figured she would be home but I was a little perturbed when the phone rang unanswered for longer than expected. I was about to hang up when suddenly there was a clatter and a breathless, "Hello …" and sounds of music in the background, " … Oh Hi, it's you. Sorry, I didn't hear the phone ringing."

That didn't sound to me as a valid excuse for the delay especially as I could hear background noises of what sounded like some kind of a party going on. There was music and I recognised the distinct sound of my mother's laugh; there were also unrecognised voices, male voices.

"Hi, what's going on, sounds like you are having a celebration or something," I joked.

She giggled, "Hmm, sort of. It's book club night and we thought it would make a change to hold it here. We invited a couple of our dance partners back for a drink and …," she giggled again, " …. they said they could teach us a few new moves …"

That remark caused my mother to yell out something that I didn't catch but caused the others present in 'my house' to call out their own comments, which were likewise confused to my ears.

" … I hope you're not cross, you did say that I should enjoy myself while you were away and I thought that this was the sort of thing that you had in mind."

Was I annoyed? No, already my mind was working and I could envisage the scene of my wife and mother entertaining two strangers (maybe it was more than two!). Indeed, it was exactly what I had hoped for when she said that mum would be coming to stay in my absence.

"Ah, no, that's fine. You have yourselves a good time … just make sure you are careful, that's all."

I then wondered how I could steer the conversation to what was really on my mind … but I didn't have to wonder for long as she said, "Did you like the things I packed for you, are you wearing them now?"

My cock gave a twitch, on my god, we really are on the same page.

"Erm, yeah, they're very nice, er, very … comfortable."

"Which ones have you put on?"

I looked down at my stiff cock, "The black ones with the bows."

"Ah, nice, they're my favourites too," she said in a sultry tone. Then she added unprompted, "Just so you know, I'm not wearing any at the moment … and neither is Sara!"

That remark caused another flurry of sounds and laughter and I realised that she must have set the phone on speaker so that everyone present could hear our conversation; how embarrassing. I decided that best I keep the tone of our chat to be less explicit. Not so her, already it was clear that Samantha, my wife, was enjoying herself indulging in what was her first foray into Telephone sex.

"Ah, so I'm thinking that it's not dancing moves or books you're talking about then with your friends?"

"Hmm, naughty boy, what do you think I'm talking about then?"

Oh my God, should I say it; how should I say it?

"Erm, I was thinking perhaps if I was there that you might be doing .. you know … that I might be seeing you getting … erm, maybe getting intimate with your friends ..!"

My stumbling enquiry caused an explosion of background laughter. Damn, I forgot the phone was on speaker. Samantha added to the laughter, "Yep, you could call it that, I'm looking at Sara on the sofa getting intimate right now …"

Hearing her say that left me in no doubt and I instantly pictured the scene of my mother being penetrated by a black cock as she lay back on our new couch. Samantha must have been sitting close by as I started to hear the unmistakable sounds that my mother always makes when she is being fucked, sounds that I had often heard in the past when I had been spying on her.

I looked down at my own stiff throbbing cock held close to my stomach by the restraining waistband of her panties and saw a stream of pre-cum was dribbling from my knob and coating my navel. I went for broke, "…. and are you going to be getting 'intimate' as well?"

Again a laugh, "Do mean am I going to get fucked? Yeah, damn right I am, Sweetie."

I stifled a groan as I thought of her following my mother's example and didn't really know how to respond to that admission … but I did the best I could. I started to nervously babble, "Well, you just enjoy yourselves and be careful … try not to make a mess of the new furniture … ah, I'll let you get on … must go, there's something I need to attend to …"

She giggled at that, "I bet there is and, don't worry, I'll tell you all about it when you get home."

The phone went dead leaving me with the vision of my wife, in my own house, being fucked by a black stranger. I put the receiver down and my hand went instantly to my cock straining against the lace band of 'my underwear'. I pushed them down to give me some relief but the mere feel of the silk as it rubbed down the underside of my shaft bought on that relief in an instant and a spurt of cum erupted. I hardly had time to grasp my shaft before another rope of sperm fountained out. I quickly gripped and stroked and my orgasm flooded over me.

I spent the remainder of the evening laying on my hotel bed thinking on what might be happening with my wife and mother back at home as I continued to stroke my cock which hardly lost a hint of stiffness until I eventually slipped into a blameless sleep.

The following morning I awoke to the prospect of another day of meetings and I knew that whilst I was trying to conduct business that my mind would be elsewhere. And so it proved and I just hoped that at the end of the day my inattention hadn't been too obvious to my client.

I got back to my hotel and gave a call to Samantha to advise her that if need be I could get home later that evening or, if she wanted, that I could stay another night and return the following day. My heart gave a jump when she said that she would like that I get back as soon as possible, she and mother had something that they'd like to discuss with me ….! She didn't say what it was, just that she was sure I would approve of what they were going to suggest.

I was checked out and on the road 10 minutes later.