7 Showing Your Conviction

You have long been accustomed to your mother's straight forwards attitude. You have lived with her for most of your life after all.

However, now that you are a young man with a lot of needs. You see her in a very much different light. She is savvy, eloquent, sexy and so damn fucking fuckable. No doubt that she has used her assets to her advantage in her business.

You wonder how this discussion will go – there goes your lust again.

After all that "look, but can't touch" since yesterday, your lust is growing out of control. The endless blue balls brought on by your power make you a bit on edge, and you really, really need a woman fast.

Unfortunately, you have no girlfriend or money for that matter.

You try to calm your junior as you struggle to get seated across your mother, who is completely naked under your all-seeing eyes. You didn't need to see her skillset to see her naked – this simply mean how much she is unconsciously guarding against you, or how much you want to fuck her.

You try to stop seeing through her body-tight dress, but the mind and body wants what it wants.

Your mother cocks her head slightly, noticing your awkward inner struggle. She tries to make sense of it, and she knows that she was especially harsh on you in recent years. Although she misses you very much, she rarely shows it in her words or demeanor.

She barely visits you when you were in college, but she does send gifts and presents, especially on your birthday.

She is what you would call a cold, mature beauty. Since you couldn't help yourself as you are a growing man, you try to avert your eyes instead. Staring at the sun too long will get you burn, even if it is a very, very hot sun.

"Look at me," your mother demands, not letting you a moment of peace.

"Do I have to," you reply and resume your examination of her sexy body far too happily.

You know that your mother really loves you, otherwise, she will not give up her busy work schedule, organize lunch and wait for you to come home. You love her very much in return.

You also have enough respect for your mother despite your current perversion. Even strangers would form a deep feeling for her after all she have done, let alone you, her only blood relative.

Not liking your disrespectful response, your mother leaned forwards from her chair, and her enormous tits strain themselves more tightly against her dress. Was this one of her negotiating tactics?

How could you resist?

"I need to use the bathroom," you immediately call out and rush away from the table. Your mother gave her head a shake as you burst into the bathroom.

"Fuck, fuck, calm down, calm down. She is your mother for god sake!" You lecture yourself and have a look at your junior. It is fully awoken. A release would be nice.

Since you couldn't just ask one of the maids in to help you with this – especially not with your mother just a door away. You decide to get rid of the hardon yourself.

How? There is something call masturbation.

You didn't want to do that.

It is below you.

But you currently have no choice. Either be constantly distracted throughout lunch – or regain some sense of yourself.

You didn't enjoy the feeling of your hands on your junior, but beggar couldn't be chooser. You recall seeing all the beautiful naked girls from memory. As you have a very good memory, it wasn't difficult to create a slideshow of them.

Unfortunately, one person outshined them all, and the moment she appears in your mind, you blew your load.

It was right onto your mother's face – in your mind. You were stunned at how the vivid the image you conjured up is. Hot, steamy, milky baby batter slowly but surely roll down your mother's beautiful face and pool between your tightly bound cleavage.

How nice would it be to nest between there again?

And so, you blow another two loads before your junior calms down.

You let out a heavy sigh as you flush the toilet. Someone will have to a hard time cleaning the sticky mess you have made. You wash your hands afterwards.

You return to the dining room a moment later. You skillfully slip into your seat. You make nothing of what just happen and enjoy lunch with your mother. At least, she is fully clothes now.

Your mother didn't say anything either, but she must have known something due to the small smile at the corner of her mouth. She knows that she is a sexy woman, and she will enjoys teasing you in the future – friendly teasing of course.

The lunch was simple, but well prepared. It was vegetable salad with roasted beef. The moment you have a taste, you knew that your mother must have made it with her own two hands. She has always been a good cook, and you miss her cooking very much.

"You have officially graduated. Congratulation," your mother said as she ate a few mouthfuls. There is not need for dining etiquette when eating with you.

"Will there be any change in your future plans?"

"No," you reaffirm your stance. You know that your mother wants you to go into business with her as she has so much to teach you. "I want to be a film director. I want to be the best there is."

Your mother swallows and eyes you. "Do you know how hard that road is? Are you prepared, both mentally and physically?"

"I am prepared. I have been for a long time, mum," you answer with strong conviction. Your eyes stand against her gaze. "You know how much time and energy I have spent on this. I have been working very hard the last ten years towards this goal. Nothing you say will change my mind."

Your mother nods and takes another mouthful. "I am asking about your plan, sweetheart."

You understand immediately. "In the next few weeks, I will be here… if you will have me."

You then tap your head. "I have a lot of idea, one is very promising. I will write a suitable script for it and then looking for opportunities to invest and direct."

Your mother smiles, but it is a disapproving smile.

"Mum, I know that my age is a problem, but don't forget that Columbia Pictures just brought a street boy's script from John Singleton. They made him a director. How old is he? And not to mention, he's black!"

It wasn't being racist. You just know the politic of this time better than anyone. You were from many years in the future after all. Sure, it was from another world, but this world is similar enough for your future knowledge to be priceless.

"He is a special case, not a universal phenomenon," you mother retorts calmly. She understands the business landscape of Hollywood far better than you.

"Yet, he still is a director nonetheless," you point out. "I know that after graduation, I should enter TV or a filming crew, starting as an assistant director or even lower. Then I work my way up slowly with time and experience. Eventually, one day, someone will give me a script and a shot to debut. I know all that, but mum, I have so many ideas in my head and I want to achieve them as soon as possible. I can't wait forever for an opportunity when I can make one for myself right now."

"Sweetheart," your mother shakes her head. "Even if you have a script ready, and even if you have the skills. Your chance of success is almost zero. You have no idea how competitive this industry really is."

She wants to say backstabbing as well but refrains from doing so. She didn't want to you to give up your dream completely.

"My chance of success is almost zero. It is not zero. If I don't try at all then it is truly zero! Now, if you excuse me, mother. I have work to do. Also, thanks for lunch."

Your mother is surprise at your sense of logic. "My little boy has grown up."

"In more than one way, mum. You will see one day," you couldn't help but flirt with your MILF of a mother.

You left the room immediately because it was so wrong – so very, very wrong.