Asian Mom Jenny and her son Chris Series 3: Part 5

I awoke to the soft lyrics of my phone’s alarm, my eyes quickly realizing that I was in in my son’s room. Because of the few bottles of beer, Charles’ snoring was louder than usual last night, and by 3:30 I had given up altogether, sneaking into Chris’ for some shut eye.

I had purposefully set the alarm for 7:45, just to make sure I woke up before my husband. I might’ve enjoyed cuckolding Charles by kissing and touching his son in front of him, but I didn’t quite want him to know Chris and I were doing far more than that. Besides, there was my daughter to worry about too. And as naïve as she is, it’d probably be hard to explain why mommy is leaving her brother’s room in nothing but a tank top and panties.

However, getting out of bed was proving quite challenging. I was so warm and cozy lying next to Chris, sharing a comforting blanket between us. And the fact that his room was much smaller than my master bedroom, really helped preserve the heat from the cold February air outside.

But after several minutes of further procrastination, I finally bit the bullet and got up in one quick motion.

“Huh? Mom?”

“Oh I’m sorry honey. I didn’t mean to wake you” I apologized.

“Uggh, it’s okay” he responded, still half asleep. “Are we making pancakes now?”

“Not yet, it’s only 7:45. Go back to sleep. I’ll wake you up in an hour or two!”

“Are you sure?”

My instincts told me to say “no, actually get up. Mommy wants to fool around!” but seeing the look of stupor on his face made me feel too guilty for the words those to come out.

“Yeah, go back to sleep. I still have a few things I need to get done beforehand”

“Thanks mom” he smiled, reaching out to delicately grab my hand, planting a soft kiss.

I sneakily left like a one night stand from a college dorm room. And surprisingly, it was actually exciting because I had never actually experienced it before. The only difference of course was instead of wanting to avoid other students and neighbors, I was just trying to avoid my daughter and husband; so same thing really.

There actually were a few chores I needed to do, which along with a yoga session, took up most of the early morning. By the time I wrapped, Jessie had woken up; carrying a backpack full of her new colored pencils and white paper, plopping herself down on the sofa in front of morning cartoons.

Surprisingly, Chris followed her down just a few minutes later, saving me a trip upstairs.

“Up already honey? I was just going to get you” I said, pulling out the ingredients we needed and laying them out on the kitchen counter.

“Yeah. Jessie kinda woke me up” he answered, taking a glance over at his sister before approaching me for a morning kiss.

“Should I just throw these in the laundry basket?” he asked, cradling my pair of pink running shorts. Only looking at them now did I remember slipping them off last night when I snuggled up against Chris in bed.

“Why didn’t you just throw it in your own hamper honey? I would’ve gotten it later!” I giggled.

“Well, just in case dad finds it”

“You think your father would actually be kind enough to do laundry? I’m not sure he even knows how the machine works!” I laughed.

“I mean just in case he goes snooping around. I don’t want him to think…you know –“

“that you’re fucking your mommy?!” I exclaimed, finishing his sentence.

I hadn’t told Chris that his dad actually was snooping around, spying on us making out last night. Part of me was afraid that Chris would start to act differently while a much bigger part simply felt it was so much hotter if he didn’t know. It had been so fun using Chris to tease my husband that I wanted to do it again.

“Or that I’m stealing your shorts to masturbate or something” he chuckled.

“Mmm” I nodded sarcastically. “Because that would be much worse for him than finding out that his wife spent the evening fucking the brains out of her son!”

“Pshh. With the way you’ve been acting I’m sure he’s already suspicious” he answered, once again showing how smart he is.

“You think so?!” I grinned.

He looked at me with slight astonishment, both surprised, yet at the same time, completely expecting my reaction.

“Jeez mom, do you ever turn off?! I’m supposed to be the irresponsible teenager here!” he laughed.

“Yeah, but because your weird and not, mommy gets to be!” I giggled, grabbing his shirt roughly and pulling him in for a deep kiss.

“But I think you’re starting to like fooling around in front of your dad!” I giggled.

“Eh. It’s – it’s more seeing how slutty you are that turns me on” he corrected.

“Oh is that it, honey?! You like seeing mommy act slutty in front of your dad?” I asked, massaging the tent in sweatpants.

“I mean that look in your eye whenever you use me to tease dad…it’s so hot!”

I was facing my daughter, actually hoping she would turn her head towards the kitchen and see us; it wouldn’t exactly be the first either. Chris and I kissed so much in the house that Jessie had gotten used to it, not even blinking when she saw it anymore.

But most of those were just short pecks, never lasting more than a few seconds. It was just that one time on vacation that she caught us making out. So naturally, I was curious to see how she’d react to seeing me and Chris straight up making out now. Because if she didn’t make a big deal out of it, then Chris and I could freely do so again in the future.

But the idea was all for naught; Jessie was so immersed in her own activities to pay any attention elsewhere.

“Did you want to fuck mommy before we start?”

“Jessie’s right behind us” he answered with a smile, his eyes widening.

“We can go somewhere else”

“No. it’s okay”

“You sure? How about a blowjob?”

I loved how casual this question had become. It was as if I asked him if he wanted a snack.

“Let’s just start with the pancakes. I’m actually pretty hungry” he smiled.

That came as no surprise considering all the energy he used last night. Plus, all the “fluids” he had lost as well.

“Sure!” I exclaimed.

“Ok let’s start by sifting through the flour” I said. “Here, I’ll show you first. We just hold the sieve with one hand, and gently tap the side with the other” I demonstrated.

“What’s the point of the sifter?”

“It makes the flour much lighter; better for mixing things in. So if we’re making a cake or batter, it’s very necessary” I answered.

Chris’ chuckling made me look up from what I was doing.

“What’s so funny?” I smiled.

“Nothing” he continued laughing. “You look so cute when you’re all serious!”

I could feel the red rushing right to my cheeks!

Chris must’ve picked up on it too.

“Awww! Mom, your blushing!” he exclaimed.

“Shush! Pay attention here! This is important!” I responded, but unable to hide my huge grin.

“Yes Ma’am!” Chris joked, saluting me like a drill sergeant.

“Is this how you act in school to with your teachers? It’s a miracle you’re as good of a student as you are!”

“What can I say, I’m just that smart!” he said sarcastically.

“Well mister. Let’s see how good your math skills are!” I shot back. “We’re making 10 flapjacks. I’ve written down the recipe for 4 on the counter. Now go adjust it!”

“Yes!” he saluted again, making me laugh.

I carefully watched as Chris did the next few steps of mixing in the sugar, salt and baking powder as the butter began melting on the griddle on the stove.

“What’s next?”

“Add in the butter, eggs, and milk” I instructed.

“This is easy!” he proclaimed.

“Relax honey, it’s just pancakes” I smiled, waiting for the batter to become smooth.

“Is it done?” I asked, sticking a finger on the edge and tasting the mixture.

“Mmm… nice and smooth” I moaned. “Want a sample?”

Chris nodded, parting his lips.

But instead of sticking my finger inside his waiting mouth, I playfully wiped it on his cheek.

“Mom!” he exclaimed, not expecting it.

I only responded by laughing deviously, sticking my tongue out to tease him more.

“Oh it’s on!” he chuckled.

He placed the bowl of batter down and scooped two fingerful himself, rushing after me. I made an attempt to run, but my positioning was awkward, caught in a corner.

“Yes!”

“Auggh!” I shrieked, laughing at the same time as I felt the pancake mix smear across my face.

“How dare you?!” I asked, feigning anger.

Quickly I pushed Chris out of the way and went for some more myself, but Chris was fast, hugging me from behind and grabbing hold of both my wrists.

We laughed and giggled together, with me finally giving up and spinning around, kissing him hard on the lips.

“mmm. If I knew cooking was going to be this fun, I would’ve signed up for it much earlier” Chris said licking my cheek to clean off the mess.

“Then again, with you mom, I’m not sure how much we’d get done”

“Oh, we would all starve and have to order take out every night!” I smiled, acknowledging how true his statement was.

And as if to prove my point, I grabbed his right hand and moved it to my ass.

While Chris noticed nothing out of the ordinary, I had more deceitful intentions. In our little struggle, he had gotten more white flour on his right hand, a hand that now had a palm full of my ass. I couldn’t be sure, but I was hoping, maybe even praying, that it would leave a nice little hand print on my black yoga pants for my husband to see when he came down.

So as soon as I felt Chris give it a good squeeze, I slowly broke off our embrace, ensuring that he didn’t ruin the evidence.

“Ready to cook now?”

“Yeah” Chris nodded.

With everything set up, cooking the actual pancakes was quite easy, just taking a little patience since we had so much batter.

That turned out to be a surprising benefit. By the time we had three left, the aroma of the freshly cooked pancakes must’ve made their way upstairs, stirring my husband awake.

He lumbered down just as we were finishing up, having all the signs of a typical hangover. And after taking one quick look at as us, poured himself a mug of coffee and took a seat in the living room Barcalounger.

“Could you turn the volume down a bit sweetie?” I heard him ask.

“Sweetie, are you hungry? Come over and have some breakfast” I shouted, seeing it as a good time get my husband alone.

She came bolting over, but her smile quickly vanished upon seeing her brother by the stove.

“Did you make these?” she asked condescendingly.

“Yeah, extra special. Just for you!” Chris teased back, handing her a plate of 2 flapjacks.

“Mom! Did Chris put something gross in my pancakes?”

“Oh honey, stop teasing your sister!” I sighed. “And sweetie don’t be so gullible. They’re fine, mommy was watching him”

“Not the entire time!” Chris joked, faking an evil laugh at his sister.

“Oh my god!” I exclaimed with a smile, punching Chris on the arm.

“Ow!” he shrieked.

“Stop goofing around and finish up here” I said, leaving for the bathroom.

I was in and out very fast, staying just to check that the evidence of Chris groping my ass was still there; it was. Upon seeing it, I instantly grinned, walking out the door towards the living room.

“Breakfast is ready” I announced quietly, pretending to check up on the house plants I had on the TV counter.

I made sure to take my time, ensuring that my husband wouldn’t miss it. Only when I felt it was long enough did I turn around. And right away I got all the confirmation I needed; Charles’ eyes instantly went up from looking at my waist to my face, mouth gaped open from shock.

“You’re still here? Don’t want breakfast?” I asked.

“You made pancakes?”

“I made it with Chris” I answered, with just the smallest hint of a grin.

“Something wrong?” I asked innocently, almost daring him to say something.

“No” he managed to stammer out, leaving for the kitchen.

Fuck that felt so good! Seeing the complete look of dismay on his face was so worth it!

So after taking a few seconds to compose myself, I headed over to the breakfast table as well.

“ha ha haha!” My daughter laughed.

“Hmm?” I smiled, turning to look at her.

“Mom, you have a handprint on your butt!” she giggled.

“I do?” I said, playing along.

I pretended to look embarrassed, shooting a glance at my husband. Charles was drinking his cup of coffee and didn’t respond. Meanwhile, Chris was looking straight down at his plate of food, cheeks blushing red, both men knowing who was responsible.

“Oh…I guess we got a little messy when we cooked!” I said, laughing to play it off.

“Did Chris do that?! Did he touch your butt mom?!” she pressed further, oblivious to all the tension between the rest of us.

“I don’t know, maybe –“

“look there’s still flour on his hand!” she added, pointing at her brother.

“Eww Chris! You touched mommy’s butt! I hope you did that after you finished cooking!” she teased.

Chris was looking more and more uncomfortable, for once acting like his father, stuffing his mouth with a big bite of pancakes.

“Okay that’s enough teasing! I’m sure he didn’t mean to!” I said, trying to save the situation.

She grinned proudly at her brother, reveling that she one this exchange, leaving the rest of us to eat in awkward silence.

“Whoa, sweetie where are you going?”

“I’m finished. I’m going upstairs to draw more!” she announced, rushing off to grab her stuff and heading upstairs.

The three of us sat and ate quietly at the kitchen counter. And while the tension between Chris and Charles was responsible for their silence, mine was because my mind was on other things; wondering how I could cuckold my husband even more.

“Honey? After breakfast, you think you could give mommy a foot massage? I think I worked out a little too hard this morning and you’ve done such a good job before!” I smiled, turning to look at him.

“yeah , sure! I’m just about done anyways!” Chris declared, pushing his half-eaten plate aside, just happy to escape the awkward table.

“Great! Do you know where the bottle of-“

“massage oil? In the cupboard of the upstairs bathroom right? I’ll grab it!” he exclaimed, bolting out his seat.

My husband was left at the table alone as I began migrating over to the living room. I was just praying that he would stay there until Chris got back, and the real teasing could begin!

Luckily Chris was fast, taking just half a minute to race upstairs and return. I was already on the 3 person sofa, my back against the far end so that I could face my husband in the kitchen. Chris immediately took his seat on the other end, turned towards me so his back was to his father, and delicately grasped my feet in his palms.

Just as he was about to put on the oil, he paused, slowly bringing my feet near his nose, and inhaled.

“Uughh” he moaned, his body shuddering.

“Did you not shower after your workout, mom?” he whispered.

“mm-mm” I smiled, shaking my head no. “Does mommy’s feet stink? I bet they’re all covered in dried sweat!” I teased.

Chris gulped, moving his head to the side as if he wanted to glance back at his father, but stopped well short. I could see the conundrum he had; on one hand he wanted to grab both my feet and shove my toes towards his nose, taking big long whiffs of it. But on the other, with his dad watching, he couldn’t be so bold.

I was just grinning, waiting to see what would win; his brain or his penis!

And like most teenage boys, the penis quickly prevailed. Chris held my feet together and lowered his head forward, moaning as he inhaled by stench.

When he brought his head back up, he face looked like a drug addict that had finally got his fix after waiting for several hours. It made me so wet!

After a few more whiffs from Chris, the actual massage started. He began gently, just softly rubbing the massage oil on first, coating both feet liberally. Once he felt satisfied, Chris started working my soles and the top part of my foot, soothing the muscles with his fingers.

“Uuggh! That feels great honey!” I moaned softly.

“Thanks mom” Chris smiled.

“You don’t mind do you, honey? I hope mommy’s not interrupting your morning!” I asked sarcastically.

“Oh, no it’s fine mom”

“you sure?” I teased further.

“yeah” he smiled. “besides mom, you know I’ll never say no to massaging your feet” he whispered.

“Awww!” I exclaimed loudly.

I wasn’t staring at my husband, but from my peripheral vison I could tell he was watching us closely. He was still pretending to read his paper as he ate, and although he lowered his head, it didn’t help disguise the fact that his eyes were looking towards us. And because our conversation level wasn’t too high, Charles was straining his neck trying to hear.

“Do you like mommy’s pedicure? I just got it done recently” I asked sarcastically, at a louder volume. It was all for show. After all, Chris had been handpicking the color of my toes for months now.