Soup - taboo!

A | B | C | D | E | F | G | H | I
J/K | L | M | N | O | P | S | T | Y

Chapter 3 of I'm not sure yet. Still have one more completed chapter to upload but I'm still in the middle of writing the fifth. Not sure how long this story will go for, depending on what ideas I have.

As always, comments and feedback appreciated. Like to know people out there like my work.



"Is that everything, Mum?" I called out from the living room, lifting what I hoped was the last box. We were not taking much, just our own clothes while I was clearing out my room. We were taking my queen-sized bed for the lone bedroom, but I'd already put in orders for a lot of other furniture and kitchen-wear, most of it already being delivered into our new apartment.

Mum appeared from out of the kitchen, carrying absolutely nothing. She then asked for me to follow her back into the kitchen.

"One second, Mum. I'll just put this in the back of the car."


I returned to find her standing in the kitchen, hands flat on the counter. "What do you see on my hands, Mark?"

"A couple of rings."

"Which one in particular?"


"I haven't taken it off in nearly twenty years. I wonder how often he's taken his off... Doesn't matter now, I guess. Part of me wants to keep it and sell it. The other part wants me to leave it here as a final 'fuck you'." Then she lifted her hand towards me. "Take it off, Mark. You're my partner now. But you're not his replacement. You are so much better!"

I helped take it off. It actually took a little soap to help it finally move, but I managed to gently prise it off her finger. She then simply placed it down on the counter. Didn't leave any sort of note. She didn't even take one last look around the place as we stood at the front door. She saw my face and probably understood what I was thinking. "It's a nice house but fuck this place as a home. There is absolutely no way I could remain living here if he left. As far as I'm concerned, he's welcome to it. He can invite any of the whores he has over without any sort of guilt." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, so I just grabbed her hand, interlacing our fingers and squeezing. She opened her eyes and looked at me, a smile on her face. "Let's get out of here and go home, Mark."

I was tempted to leave the place wide open, but we agreed that we would simply leave and be done with it. I locked the door, placed our keys underneath the doormat as I had said I would, hopped in my car and we drove away without a backwards glance.

It had been an empty apartment when we had viewed it, but the movers and delivery men had been hard at work and life had been added. We had organised some painters to give it a new coat, and that had already dried. Now there was furniture in the living room - a couple of couches, a low coffee table, a cabinet and also a flat-screen TV hanging on the wall. Mum had suggested we should hang a few things on the wall, which we would eventually do. The kitchen was already stocked with kitchen-ware as we wandered into the bedroom to find our bed already in place, tables to either side while there was a built-in wardrobe where we would eventually put all our clothes.

We spent all afternoon and early evening putting things away and clearing up the mess, the delivery of all our goods taking place before lunchtime. The only time we stopped was for lunch itself, nothing more than a quick bite, and a glass of water as it was hard work. But, by early evening, we had nearly everything packed away, a couple of small boxes still to be sorted out, but we agreed we perhaps needed a couple of more things that we simply hadn't thought about.

We sat down on the couch, both of us a little bit tired, if not exhausted. It had been a very long day. Mum simply curled her legs underneath her and snuggled into me, and we sat and enjoyed the silence.

"Our very own place," she said quietly.

"A new life," I added.

"Any regrets?"

I looked down at her, surprised at the question. She looked up at me and I saw concern and nerves. I simply caressed her cheek. "Never," I stated adamantly.

A large grin spread across her face, but I noticed the sigh of relief. "I know you may have been wondering if... I don't know, if we were in over our heads. Or if the fact you were now living alone with your mother, doing what we're doing..."

"Mum, stop worrying. I love you. I wanted this as much as you did."

She looked into my eyes for a few seconds before she settled down into me again, her left hand on my chest, my left arm wrapped around her. No TV. No music. Next to no sound at all. I was deep in thought about what to do next. I'd had a thought in my mind for quite a few days about how I could show Mum how much I loved her. It wasn't just about sex for either of us. It was about something more. I just wanted to treat her right. Far better than dipshit had ever treated her.

"Mum, I have an unusual request."

"What is it?"

"I'd like us to wait a little bit longer before we go all the way."

"Okay. Can I ask why, though?"

"Of course. I've had an idea and it's going to take a couple of weeks to prepare. It'll be worth it, trust me."

"I trust you more than anything." Then she paused and looked at me again. "I hope this doesn't mean a stop to everything else?"

I chuckled. "Hell no."

She smiled and snuggled into me again. "Good. Because my pussy needs to be eaten by my son."

"Try and stop me!"

Mum had spoken to her place of work and would start full-time on the Monday, while we would see if she could do some courses so she can eventually find something even better. I would drive her to work and pick her up afterwards, though we planned to get her own car eventually. However, she had already mentioned that she was quite happy for me to do all the driving.

The guys at my place of work said I never looked happier and it was there that I put my plan into action. During my lunchtime, I borrowed one of the computers in the office and started doing some shopping. Like any good boyfriend or son, I knew Mum's bra, dress and shoe size, and also her waistline. Buying clothes online was always risky but I was confident it would work. I then started looking up and printing out other things, such as cooking meals, ordering flowers and other romantic ideas. I was going all out for this one night but money wasn't a real problem. And it wouldn't be just one night. I'd try and make her feel special every day.

A little under two weeks later, I booked the Friday off as holiday and, after driving Mum to work, I returned home and put my plan into action. Parcels had been arriving for the past week and, while curious, Mum listened to my request not to be a sticky beak and try and find out what they were. I could see it was driving her nuts, so I just told her it would be worth it. I received a couple of deliveries after lunch-time and started preparing the house.

I had also organised with one of the girls she worked with to drive her home. Thankfully she didn't know I was her son so I assumed she would be asking plenty of questions about who I was. Considering Mum was now using her maiden name, no-one would have a clue we were anything but a couple living together.

I was just putting on some aftershave when I heard the door open and close. "Mark?" Pause, as she obviously noticed what I'd been up to. "What the?"

I smiled to myself as I wandered out of our bedroom, dressed in a new suit, holding a single red rose. Mum stood near the counter, already stunned as she looked around the room. On the counter was a bouquet of flowers waiting for her, a card inside that simply said 'I love you'. The room was lit by numerous candles dotted around the dining room and living room. I had a little music playing in the background. The table had two places set, a bucket of ice with a bottle of wine to be consumed with dinner.

She turned towards me as I approached and she nearly started to cry. I handed her the rose before I kissed her cheek. "Hello gorgeous," I said softly. She just nodded, incapable of speech. "Follow me."

I grabbed her hand and led her to her to the bedroom. She gasped at what she could see laid out on the bed. "Take your time getting ready. I need to start preparing things for dinner. I won't come in until you walk out."

She turned towards me and kissed me hard. I didn't want to but I gently pushed her away. "Later, Mum. Get dressed and join me for dinner."

She cleared her throat. "You're cooking?"

"I'll try. I can do simple things. What I'm doing... Not so simple."

"I'll get ready then. Can I shower first?"

"Of course. Take your time. I have plenty to prepare."

I hung my suit jacket up and put on an apron before I started to get dinner ready. I figured I'd probably make a bit of a mess but hoped I wouldn't fuck it up too much. I prepared the starter first, which was something I'd had bubbling away all day. Just a simple soup, which I would serve with hot bread from the oven and butter. Dinner would be steak, some fancy unpronounceable potatoes and various vegetables, plus a selection of sauces, as Mum liked a few with her steak. Dessert would be tiramisu. Mum loved it so I'd spent half the morning making it, the dessert currently sitting in the fridge. I'm no chef but I tried my best. I'm sure Mum would simply appreciate the effort.

I had to help myself to a glass of whiskey to help take care of some of the nerves that were building up. I had everything for the evening planned out, except the final act, but I just hoped she liked everything else. Her face had been a picture when she had walked in, so that was a good start, so now I could only hope that she liked everything else I'd chosen.

She took a while to get ready, which didn't bother me, as there was absolutely no rush. But I soon heard the click of heels as she appeared. She came to a stop as I approached her and I had to show all the self-control possible not to strip her right there and then.

The largest smile I'd ever seen on her face appeared as she did a little twirl. "What do you think?"

I knew she'd look good in what I'd chosen but she was absolutely stunning. She'd styled her hair into one of the latest styles, slight eyeshadow on her eyelids and faint rouge on her cheeks. Deep red lipstick that accentuated her lips. Around her neck hung a necklace I'd bought for her that ended just above her cleavage. She wore what I called an LBD. A little black dress. Strapless but tight to her body, though she would have also worn a black bra underneath. The dress stopped just down her thighs, where underneath she would be wearing black panties, a garter and, down her legs, black stockings. On her little feet were a pair of sensible heels, open toed.

"Mark?" she asked, walking towards me, only the click of her heels on the tiled floor. She came to a stop just in front of me, looking into my eyes. I'll admit, I was speechless. A little turned on. And, I have no problem admitting, even a little emotional. I'd never seen her look so good. She just gently stroked my cheek. "I'll take that as a sign that you think I'm beautiful."

"Would you care for a drink?" I finally managed to ask.

"What do you have?"

I escorted her to the kitchen, where she took one of the two available stools behind the counter. I walked to the fridge and took out a bottle of champagne, not the most expensive as I can't afford that, but it's the thought that counts. I'd bought a couple of cheap champagne flutes and poured Mum a glass, apparently stunned by this first event, poured myself a glass before we clinked glasses and took a sip. I wasn't a big fan but it was worth it.

"So what's for dinner?" she asked.

"For starters, we're having soup with oven baked bread. The main is steak with fancy potatoes and vegetables, with a selection of sauces. For dessert, it's a surprise."

"Is it a good surprise?"

"I don't know. What would you think is a good surprise?"

"Your cock in my mouth."

I almost spat my drink all over the counter. "Mum, you are incorrigible."

"So it's not your cock?"

I couldn't help but laugh. "No, Mum. I made you something."

Another dazzling smile. "You're full of surprises."

Grabbing her hands, I simply said "I'm going to spend the rest of my days making sure you feel special."

We drank the rest of the champagne as I started to heat the soup. Once that was nearly ready, I escorted Mum to the dinner table, ensuring she was seated and had a napkin on her lap before I was ready to serve. Before I did that, I opened the wine and poured her a glass, wondering how it tasted.

"Very nice, Mark. Will it suit the soup?"

"Of course. I read about it."

I finally took a seat once I had bowls placed in front of us and a plate with bread straight out of the oven, a small dish with a bit of butter on it. I watched Mum as she lifted her spoon but she stopped and shook her head. "He never..."

I grabbed her hand and shook it. "Don't, Mum. Don't even think about it. You're here with me now. And I'm doing this for you."

She looked at me, blinked rapidly, then did the usual thing of smiling. Mum was always honest and, while she thoroughly enjoyed the soup, she said there was perhaps a dash too much salt. Not too much to make it taste awful, but just a tip for next time. I laughed at that comment, though there was every chance I'd do this time and again. I promised her that too.

I cleared everything away and filled the dishwasher before I got started on the main course. Mum sat at the counter again and watched me work. I'd timed everything so that the steak just needed a few minutes while the rest would only need a fast heating. One thing I could never be criticised of was being disorganised. Mum was speechless as I worked the kitchen.

Once everything was cooked, Mum was once again seated, a new bottle of wine introduced that would suit the steak. I received no end of compliments after she took her first bite, mentioning the wine also added to the flavour. I even received compliments about the vegetables, saying the oil and herbs I'd used just added to her overall enjoyment. I wondered if I had a smug grin on my face by the time we'd finished the main meal.

"What's for dessert?" Mum asked after we'd let the meal settle and finished the bottle of wine.

First I retrieved a bottle of liqueur from the cabinet and placed it on the table. Mum gasped and looked at me with a large grin. "You didn't?" she asked quietly.

I just wandered into the kitchen, opened the fridge and grabbed the plate. I smiled to myself, noticing the dessert had set well, as I carried the plate back to the table. Mum looked stunned as I placed it down.

"You made that?" I nodded. "I had no idea... How did..." Then she smiled. "You read about it, correct?"

"Knowledge is power."

She burst into laughter as I poured a small glass of liqueur for her and myself before I cut the dessert, handing her a small plate first before cutting myself a piece. I then sat back and watched her take a first bite. She closed her eyes and made a sound that suggested she enjoyed it.

"I can think of only one thing better," she said.

"What's that?"

"The orgasm you're going to give me later."

Mum enjoyed dessert so much she had two helpings and another glass of liqueur. I think we were probably both getting a little drunk, so the next idea would probably be good for both of us. I cleared away all our plates first, stacking the dishwasher but left it off. Mum sat at the table, watching me, as I finally took off the apron and joined her at the table. Her cheeks were a little red, probably from the alcohol, excitement and make-up, as she wondered what was next. I checked my watch.

"We have a taxi arriving in half an hour."

She reached out to grab my hand. "What next?" she wondered.

"I have reserved us a table at a piano bar in town. It has rave reviews. I thought you might like a drink and a dance?"

I noticed she blinked rapidly and I knew, this time, she wouldn't be able to stop herself. I got to my feet, helping Mum to her own, before I hugged her, feeling her quietly sob in my arms. I just stroked her hair as she let it all out. I should have guessed it would eventually, though I had hoped it wouldn't be tonight.

"Sorry," she said quietly.

"You have nothing to apologise for."

She looked up, using one hand to wipe her cheeks, the other still around my waist. "Twenty years, Mark. And most of them were... Within two weeks, you've done so much more. So much more. I can't really believe it. I have to pinch myself. The girls at work wonder what the hell is going on with me, saying I sit there at my desk and just smile to myself all day. And now you've done this. I had no idea!" She kissed me. "Just this one night makes it all worth it."

"I just want to make you happy."

She giggled. "You've done so much more than that." Then she grabbed both my hands. "You're my partner. My lover. My... boyfriend."

"I like the sound of that."

"When we go out, call me by my name. I know who I am. You know who you are. But you're now so much more to me than that." She let go of one of my hands and cupped my cheek. "Please call me Caroline."

"Okay, Mum."

She laughed. "It'll take a little getting used to for both of us."

Mum disappeared to reapply her make-up before returning holding the small purse I'd also bought her. Feeling all the booze, we both just made do with a coffee as we waited for the taxi. We chatted about nothing of consequence. We both knew the past would constantly come up for some time yet. I didn't particularly want to discuss it, but I knew Mum would have to get it all off her chest. I promised her that I'd always listen, whenever she wanted to say something. But I also told her that I would like us to both think of the future. She promised me in return to do just that.

Once the taxi arrived, we headed downstairs. Living in the suburbs, it was a long drive into the city, but soon the bright lights and large, colourful advertising came into view. We could see the crowds on the sidewalk, and even with the windows down, we could hear the noise as the city always came alive during the evening, particularly on a Friday night. Once we arrived at our destination, I got out first before helping Mum out. There was no line for the venue and, once we were greeted, we were escorted to our table. After our drinks were ordered and delivered, we clinked glasses and sat back, holding hands for a while, and listened to the music.

It wasn't long before I felt a foot grazing my shin, meeting her eyes and she did everything possible to appear innocent. She was sitting close enough where her foot travelled higher, over my knee until it was nestled in my crotch. She was soon using her toes to massage my groin. I had to shuffle as, well, I was getting excited.

"Want to dance?" she asked, a twinkle in her eye.

"Give me a minute."

"What's wrong?" she asked, innocence personified.

"You know what's wrong, you little minx."

"Me? I'm not doing anything," she stated, ensuring she moved her toes even faster.

I leaned forward. "Unless you want me to eventually cum in my trousers, or you want me to bend you over this table and ram my cock inside you in front of all these people, you need to stop that," I said quietly, "I'm not complaining, but I don't want to walk around with a giant erection either."

Mum leaned forward and kissed my lips. "Just want to ensure everything is in working order for later."

"Trust me, Caroline," her face lit up when I used her name, "Nothing is going to stop that."

Mum gave me five minutes to settle down, then she grabbed my hand and we ended up on the dance floor. Holding her right hand close to me, I wrapped my left hand around her, eventually resting it just above her butt, occasionally letting it slip down for a quick feel. She'd just laugh as we slowly circled the floor with the other dancers, though we barely took notice of them, eyes only for each other.

Since independence in 1971, the national identity has evolved. Islamic religious identity has become an increasingly important element in the national dialogue. Many Islamic holy days are nationally celebrated, and Islam pervades public space and the media.

Chapter 3 of I'm not sure yet. Still have one more completed chapter to upload but I'm still in the middle of writing the fifth. Not sure how long this story will go ...

FREE  with any wrap or bowl  | Hummus, Garlic Sauce, Baba Ganoush, Tahini, Turnips, Pickles, Banana Peppers, Cucumbers, Red Onions, House salad and Tabooli salad.

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^a Not to be confused with the homophone "게장" ( gejang ; marinated crabs) or "육개장" ( Yukgaejang ; beef soup).

Soup - Taboo!Soup - Taboo!Soup - Taboo!Soup - Taboo!