A Comedy of AR's

Chapter 36
Ice Cream and a Shower (but not at the same time)

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Sure enough, Tom Cruise saved the day as only he can do.

Sammantha turned to her left and gave me a squeeze.  “Sweety, I’m so sorry for what I put you through this evening.  I admit that I was a bad mom, subjecting you to the lecherous maneuverings of a boy named ‘Putz.’  But I was really curious to see how you would handle it, and I especially wanted you to experience the ‘other side’ … what it’s really like being a female.”

“So how would you grade my work, Mom?”

“It was beyond an ‘A+’ … wow, I had to contain my laughter when the boy came running down the stairs yelling ‘Precious has a penis!’”

“Mom, I really liked the customer four seats over, who yelled, ‘Nobody gives a flyin’ fuck if Precious has a penis.’”

“And poor Gottfried.  He had to reconcile Precious’s anatomy with the fact that his twelve year old son was having sex in a theater.”

“He was ‘almost’ twelve … an early riser.”

“So sweety, was this another case of ‘proportional response’?”

“Mom, you’ve taught me not to let people walk all over you.  So once the kid shot his creamy Italian down my throat, the date was over and a proper revenge was required.”

Sammantha looked at me and smiled.  “So are you saying that Putz’s throat got up close and personal with ‘Peepee the clown’?”

“Yeah, he was pretty shocked.  I’m sure the kid would have eaten pussy till the closing credits.”

‘Would you rather eat ice cream right now?”

“Sure, Mom.”

“Then let’s go.”

At the ice cream parlor, Sammantha continued gushing over my feminine mystique. 

“Sweety, what I liked most about you tonight is how effortlessly you pulled off being a ‘girly girl’  … something I could never do even though my body has the plumbing for it.  Putz was hitting on you from the second he saw you … got pretty close to your imaginary vagina.”

“I was ready to kick a field goal in his family jewels when they called our table.”

“Okay, but what if I started hitting on you?

That was a puzzling question.  “What do you mean, Mom?”

“Well, sweety, after your traumatizing encounter in the theater tonight, would you be put off by the idea of a little more bodily friction?”

“If it’s with your body, I would never be put off.  But Mom, I just assumed that as part of our role play, a little kid could never satisfy your needs the way an adult could.”

“Sweety, two things are different tonight.  One is that I’m jealous of Putz and just as horny.   You are so freaking adorable as a young girl, that I want your nude little body rubbing against mine … and two … I want us getting slippery and sudsy together in the shower.”

My eyes widened.  “Mom, we’ve never showered together because we know what will happen to me when the water is turned on.”

“I’ve been thinking about this for a long time, sweety.  The mixture we’ve been using lately is half water, half milk … which is good.  But instead of turning on the shower spigot, what if we attached a two-gallon strainer to the spigot and poured our warm solution into the strainer.  That would give us a nice, continuous flowing stream for quite a while.  It might not be strong, but it would still be a shower.”

“Woah …. That is so brilliant, Mom.  Do we need to get a patent?”

“No, silly girl.  I already bought the strainer.  Derrek, what are you squirming for?  It looks like you have the heebie jeebies.”

“It’s just that when you called me a girl just now, I felt like I really was a nervous little girl, not just playing one.”

“One curse at a time, sweety.  So how does that idea sound to you?”

“I would be in dreamland getting squishy against your hard body.  And no one in the world is allowed to do that except me?  Mom, it’s my greatest fantasy.  Do you remember when you caught me looking at porn on my computer?”

Sammantha gazed forward, appearing to have a sudden revelation.

“Sweety, yes … The category you were looking at was ‘sex in the shower’.”

“That’s right, Mom … And I was fantasizing that the two people in the video were you and me … but who needs porn when you can have the real thing?”

When we got back home, Sammantha started preparing our shower solution of milk and water.  I went to my bedroom to check myself again in the full length mirror.  I thought, “Hmm, not bad … No wonder Putz was so horny.  But I’m not sure I’d want to dress in drag again.  Like much role play, it was just an experiment.”

When I opened my door again, I saw, across the hall, Sammantha putting up the two-gallon strainer near the ceiling.  Since this wasn’t a normal use, it looked like she was jerry-rigging the contraption with some rope and string, so it would stay level.

Just the thought of cozying up to a nude hard-body like hers was intoxicating.  And no one else gets to do this … just me.  I felt privileged.  Looking back at my bed, I now saw bunny rabbit not as a sex partner, but simply as a stuffed inanimate object.

“The milk-water is boiling, sweety.  We need to let it sit for awhile.  Come back to my bedroom.”

Sammantha took my hand and led me back.  There was still some of Chikon’s blood around the walls and on the carpet … a real crime scene, so to speak.

“Sweety, I hate to say it, but you look delicious.  I could eat you up.  Would you like me to spank you?”

“No thanks, Mom.  Bunny rabbit already spanked me this morning and my butt is still sore.”

“Then it’s time to slide out of that dress, girly girl.  Lift up your arms … Good, but your bra and panties are both stuffed.  I’ll be losing my daughter.  Time to say goodbye to Precious.”

“That’s okay, Mom … you’ll be getting your socks back.  But your ‘under-things’ are getting tighter.  I’m probably older than ten at the moment.”

Sammantha quickly stripped without any fanfare.  It was too fast for my liking, but when she was done, I was once again staring at the nude form of the world’s greatest female body.  Did I deserve this?  As a driver, I had just been handed the keys to the human version of a flaming red Lambourghini … sleek and stylish, with boobs of iron and buns of steel.  She even had the pussy of a bodybuilder if that were possible.  I couldn’t stop ogling what stood before me.

Next to her, I had reason to feel inadequate as a skinny little boy with a small package.  But this is what Sammantha wants me to be, and the thought of our two slippery torsos in the shower was already sending waves of adrenaline throughout my body … along with a not so surprising, upwardly mobile response from Peepee the clown.  I wondered if his smile would ever wear off.

The now nude Sammantha looked down on me and tickled my standing member with her fingernails.  I cringed a little and giggled while she departed the bedroom to retrieve the two gallon mixture of milk and water.  She offered me a touch test.  The liquid was hot, but tolerable … which was just perfect.

I followed her into the bathroom and watched her reach up and pour the contents into the strainer.  It gave us a few hundred little leaks and not much pressure … certainly good enough to work as a makeshift shower.  We stepped in together.   I was in awe of the person standing next to me and I now had carte blanche to touch any part of her ridiculously fine-chiseled anatomy.

I chose a bar soap and she picked a body wash pump.  I immediately grabbed her from behind and started working up a lather on her washboard abs while rubbing myself over her buttocks.  Then I gravitated north to her muscular boobs and set the soap in the tray.

The slippery, sliding contact of my hands on and around her breasts demonstrated to me the superior feel and joy of boobs that can pass the pencil test.  They don’t hang, they’re nice and firm, and you just know that you are feeling up an athlete.  The pleasure of the ‘squishiness’ far surpasses the feeling of a dry touch in the bedroom.

“Hey, Mom,” I called.

“What, sweety?”

“This is better than sex.”

“You think so?”

“Let’s squish our bodies.”

I returned to working up another lather on her abs and lower belly and then my right hand began to stray south, reaching around into the jungle, then grabbing and stretching her fury bush.  Sammantha was being patient with me, allowing further explorations into her vulva.

I just thought that everything I was doing in the shower tonight was such a forbidden act in public … that maybe Dr. Frumpy was partially right … that teenage boys are affected by their incredibly intense sexual fantasies.  No wonder they don’t pay attention in school.

My soapy middle finger pushed, pulled, and circled around inside the various layers of her treasure, searching for her clitoris.  When I found it, I let my fingernail stroke it, just like she had done to my shaft earlier.  She must have felt it because she started moving around on her tip-toes.

Sammantha has often said that she could ‘eat me up and it was now my turn to eat her.  I got on my knees and spread apart her labia majora, leaving a good target for my tongue to go spelunking.  I was doing this for her, not for me.  I think women’s pussies are smelly and they should use a douche before asking a guy to do this.  The soap I used here a minute ago seemed to have done its job.

Sammantha bent down and lifted me up by my butt and put my head up to the strainer.

“Aghh!  Don’t slip and fall, Mom.”

“Let’s get your mop top wet … and dump maybe a half bottle of shampoo on it.”

She set me down and our bodies were engulfed in suds … kind of like one of the foam parties they have at spring break in Cancun.

Then Sammantha grabbed me with her left arm against my chest but under my armpits.  She easily lifted me again and goosed my genitals and butt hole with suds for a full minute, moving back and forth.  I couldn’t stop laughing.

Then she dropped to her knees, pushed me into the corner, and chewed on my boner for a little bit.  I wasn’t expecting that in the shower.  When she stood back up, she bent me over and spanked my bottom.  I wasn’t expecting that either.  The slaps sounded really loud in the shower and I pretended to cry out in pain, but she really wasn’t hurting me … not too much anyway.  When she released me, I retaliated by spanking her, which she probably didn’t even feel on her buns of steel.

When playtime was over, we spent the last ten minutes facing each other … running our soapy, squishy hands up and down our partner’s body, exploring every bump and crevice a third and forth time.  My pleasure sensors had never felt more alive.  I would have to say ‘yes’ … feeling up Sammantha’s elegantly chiseled form was better than sex with anyone (even with bunny rabbit or Putz).

Too soon, the two gallons of mixed water and milk had finished falling from the strainer.  Since the drain was still plugged, we used the mixture at our feet to scoop up with the little bucket and rinse off … and then we stepped out of the tub together.

As we toweled off, I totally surprised Sammantha by blowing raspberries on her belly (before she had a chance to do it to me).  We both had a good laugh.”

I turned to leave.  “I’ll go get my PJ’s on now, Mom.”

“No, don’t.”

“Huh?  Why not?”

“Because this would be a good night for a naked sleepover.  I want to spoon you, sweety.  I want your nude little body cuddled next to mine.”

That thought just blew me away.  “Woah, Mom … Could this night get any better?”

Sammantha led me back to her room and shut the door so we could stare at each other’s bodies in the full length mirror.  She stood behind me, lowered her head and embraced me around my belly and chest.

“Look at us, sweety,” she whispered.  “This is just like the abstract painting by the famous South American painter, Guayasamin … mother embracing son.”

“We should be in a museum,” I responded.

“Let’s try the bed first.”

After a long, long day of fantasy masturbation, dressing in drag, a conversation about cutting off penises, dinner, a movie, a couple of blow jobs, an ice cream sundae, and the best shower of my life, we settled in under the sheets.

Sammantha engulfed my smaller body.  She pressed her breasts into my shoulder blades, then reached around and cupped my penis and ball sac.  And that is how we peacefully slept … till 2PM the next afternoon.

I liked the new day’s plans …completing the current 24 hour cycle by doing absolutely nothing.  (such would not be the case tomorrow).