Making Slime With Mommy Pt. 04

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A slimy Discovery

“That’s it. Grab those three tubs up there.” I said to my now grown son. This was his last week at home and I’d be damned if I wasn’t going to put him to use.

The kid had accumulated way too much junk, and since he was heading off to Europe to begin a four year study abroad program I decided that it was time to do some much needed downsizing, starting by tossing out his old kiddy stuff.

“And that one too-” I pointed to a beat up plastic container that was plastered with yellow and black caution tape. It had stickers that said poison, hazardous materials, and biohazard scattered all around it.

“Hold on! God Mom, I only have two hands.” He wiggled on the step ladder as he dug back into the shelf. It wobbled, and a plastic tub came tumbling down, spilling its contents onto his bedroom floor.

He fell down quickly after, landing with a grunt.

I had the reflexes of a snail, and did nothing to catch him.

“Oh baby?!”

“I’m fine.” He said.

And he was.

I laughed, and tousled his hair like I did when he was little. “Is my widdle pumkin gunna be okay.” I baby-talked. “Did my widdle baby-boy get a boo-boo on his bum-bum.”

He playfully swatted my hand away, and turned his backside toward me shaking it playfully. “What, are you going to kiss it better?” He joked, righting the ladder and climbing back up it to get the remaining boxes.

I playfully smacked his tushy, and then began gathering up the mess that had spilled out of the tub.

Random sized and shaped containers, plastic vials, wooden stirrers, notepads, and papers had been scattered across the floor. A flakey mess of crusty dried up gunk covered everything.

“Oh, your old slime box.” I said, picking up a few random cup sized containers with various primary colored lids.

“Unicorn slime?” I asked, reading the label on the top of the blue lid. “Looks more like a chunk of unicorn horn if you ask me.” I shook the container and the hardened chunk of ancient slime rattled around inside. “You know, the Physiologus says that a unicorn can only be caught if a virgin maiden was placed before it.”

“I know, you told me that when we made the stuff.” He quickly hopped down and placed the other boxes he had retrieved on the ground.

“Mutant Slime? I don’t remember that.” The half opened lid was askew, dribbles had leaked out and were now hardened bright green pieces of toxic looking plastic.

“A solo experiment.” He laughed. Snatching it out of my hands.

I continued picking up more little cups, reading each label aloud as I tossed them back into the sticker covered box.

Black Ooze. Toss.

Fluffy Slime. Toss.

My son pretended to help me clean up the mess, but I saw that he grabbed a notebook, sliding it suspiciously behind him.

“Oh look!” I stopped when I picked up a large tub, only a little brick rattled around inside as I shook the container too and fro. “White Slime!”. The hand written label was covered by a red sticker that said ‘Top Secret’.

“Looks like it got all Girne Escort used up, huh?”

My son’s face went red, and he tried to slyly maneuver the notebook further out of sight.

“What’s that?” I asked. Curious. Oblivious.

“Nuthin,” He said. “Probably just recipes I guess. C’mon This stuff is so old, let’s toss it all.”

“Oh we will, believe me – but c’mon I want to see your cute little hand writing.” I snaked out a hand and snatched the notebook out from under him before he could say no.

He slammed a hand down, but only managed to snag the corner. A few stray sheets of paper tore as I tugged.

“No, mom!” he grunted in defeat.

“Aw, my pumpy-wumpkin doesn’t want his me to wook at his top secwet fings-” I engaged my mommy voice again while rifling through the crusty notebook. Many of the pages were stuck together and it flopped open like an ancient mythological tome. Each cluster of papers were thick and crinkled.

This kid was no archivist that was for sure.

I stopped on a faded picture that had been masking taped down in the center of the page. It had been printed from an inkjet printer onto glossy photo quality paper, and now the colors were dull. Ink bled in numerous places where something watery had splattered. The face was completely bleached, and ink spread outward around the largest of the wet marks.

The picture was almost completely wrecked but I could make out words on an old forest green apron, my old forest green apron. ‘Messy Moms Make Good Moms’, were accented with a little blob of white slime.

Underneath the picture, written in bold permanent marker were three giant capital words. ‘MOMMY’S SECOND BATCH’. Underneath there was a cute curly font which read ‘Mommy wants you to give her a special recipe!”

My heart thumped loudly. I swallowed and stared.

My son snatched the notebook out of my hands and threw it into the plastic tub.

“I, uh. That’s not what you’re thinking-“

Even though I had never seen the picture he took of me – I knew what this crusty sticky page full of cum splatters was. And it aroused me. A wave of heat coursed through my entire body.

I had become quite the facial enthusiast over the years, and thousands of images had brought me to orgasm. I myself had a large collection of carefully curated treasures stored in a private folder on my laptop, tablet and phone. Although I had never been a participant in such a glorious act, I yearned for, dreamt of, and fantasized about a man cumming on my willing desperate face. I longed to feel it, smell it, taste it and more.

Those splatters, those streaks. It was obvious. My son had washed away my face with his ejaculate. And now his crustified sperm had glued the pages together.

Some would have called my son’s beautifully messy temple to me a twisted oedipus complex, but as an expert in my field I knew it was something more nuanced – like Shiva and Mahādevī or Sikhalól and his Mother-wife.

I understood my son’s fascination, and I felt it too.

My Magosa Escort pussy began to moisten.

“Mommy’s Second Batch?” I arched my eyebrow and gave him a wicked good smile. A smile that said tell me more.

“I. It. Uh. Well when-“

The frantic little guy was speechless.

“Shhhh” I touched his thigh. “It’s okay. I know what this is and there’s no need to be embarrassed.”

“No, you don’t un-“

“Shhh. Shhh. Shhhh. You don’t need to say anything.” I caressed him tenderly. “I’m happy you got to enjoy that picture.” I grabbed his hand and we interlaced fingers. “It looks as if mommy did enjoy her second batch, and I’ll bet it felt really, really, really good to give it to her, didn’t it?” I nodded my head up and down.

He nodded back.

“That makes me happy to hear. Did you, you know, only get to use it once?”


“What I mean is that the picture looks ruined.” I put my other hand on his knee quickly and corrected, “Well not ruined, but you know what I mean. Soiled, er uh used up?” I flipped his hand over and began smoothing his palm. “What I mean is, I’m sorry it’s gone, and I wish I could have seen it first. I didn’t even know it still existed.” My pussy was so wet, and my nipples were rock hard.

“Oh mom. I’m sorry. I-“

“Did I look like the girls in your slime research folder?”

“Mu, mye, my what folder?”

“Your slime research folder. You remember don’t you? You showed me a picture when you were little? A girl. Twenty-something. Beautiful hair. Dark-skin. Really, really pretty eyes. Her face was covered in cum.”

I almost said jizz. I was thinking ‘thick, hot, sticky, beautiful, creamy-white jizz.’ I knew every dirty word there was, they danced around in my head whenever I rubbed myself raw – but I had never said any of them out loud.


“It’s okay. You didn’t know what it was at the time, but you know now don’t you.” My eyes pointed to the cum diary and then back to him. “I can still remember the look on her face. Her pout. Her expression.”

“You remember a picture from way back then?”

“That picture I do! It was the first facial I ever saw – thanks to you. I named her Arachne.” I encircled my face, in reference to the web-like cumshots she had taken, “Idmon of Colophon’s daughter?”

He shook his head.

“Web? Sticky? Spider? Ack, nevermind. My point is that I have always hoped I didn’t look too much like a deer-in headlights in my photo. I secretly hoped I looked as pretty as Archane, but I always figured I looked – I don’t know, a little silly I guess. You caught me so unawares.”

“Are you serious?”

“Mhh, hmm.”

You’re not mad, or I don’t know, disgusted?”

“Oh No, baby. The opposite! How much was on my face? What was I doing? Was I wearing makeup?”

“Wait. You just found out that I jerked-off to a picture of you and your response is ‘what did you look like?'”

I bit my lip, trying to tug on it in the way little Archane had done. “Mh, hm.” I bobbed my head, and Kıbrıs Escort squeezed his hand in earnest. “Tell me. What best the best part of mommy’s messy face?”

I was suddenly keenly aware of the amount of traffic that drove past our house. My senses were open, acute, swollen.

I was trembling, and so was he.

“I- I don’t know-” He swallowed really hard, looked down at his pocket and then back up at me. “Do, do you wanna see? It’s on my phone.”

My heart pounded. My pussy quivered.

I followed his eyeline, my hands slipped away from his, and I held him tightly by the hips. “Oh God Yes. Yes I want to see.”

I slowly maneuvered my hands into his pocket and pulled the phone free, accidentally pressing against the bulge in his jeans as I wriggled the device out.

He flinched at the touch and my pussy became wet and slick.

I aimed the phone at his face and it unlocked with a blip.

He tapped and swiped on the glass a few times and then his hand fell on top of mine – the one that was wrestling on his inner thigh. His cock.

I turned the phone around to see a decade younger me – a beautiful me – covered in messy ropes of white. I did look a little confused, maybe even slightly befuddled, but I did not look stunned. My hair was clean and bouncy, and I was wearing make-up. I looked stunning.

My younger self was staring right into the camera, and her fingers were close to her lips, pulling a tacky string away from them. Her tongue was curled into the corner – tipped with a bead of white. Three medium-thick strings of cum-slime clung to her face, and they were slipping down ever so slightly. One of them, a weighted dribble, was about to fall off to join the mess on her apron.

My nipples went rock hard, and I caught my breath.

I knew then and there why my son kept this picture. Why he felt compelled to masturbate to it. On it. Over it. Her pretty, gorgeous face was wanton and it needed more.

I visualized my son emptying himself onto my photo, onto me. I wanted to nurture the cock that was growing in my hand, to feel it’s balls grow and swell until they could swell no more. I wanted to feel him explode onto me. I wanted him to make me his own personal cum dumpster.


Not like this.

Not while scattered debris surrounded us. Not while I was makeupless and dressed so casually.

Not here.

Not Now.

I quickly withdrew my hand and set the phone face down next to us. And let out a quivering stifled sigh.

“I’m, I’m sorry. I thought-” He dropped his head and looked away.

I willed my heart to still, and curled some of his hair around his ear, raising his face to mine. “Don’t be sorry. I’m so happy you kept this, and I’m so happy that you showed it to me. That was a really brave thing to do.”

“Oh my god mom. I, I am so sorry. I’ll delete it. I’m such a pervert. Please don’t-“

“Shhh.” I put a finger to his lips. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about. That picture is your private property. If you want to masturbate to it you don’t owe me or anyone an explanation.”

“Oh gawd-“

“Oh pumpkin.” I brought his head to my chest, he wrapped his arms around my waist, and we rocked in silence for a long while.

Then I whispered in his ear.

“I would let you do that to me, for real. If you would like to.”

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