The Mom Memories - Chapter 19 - Alwayswantedto - Literotica

The Mom Memories Ch. 19

by alwayswantedto©

All characters are 18 years or older.

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Another letter from Marilyn.

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Having read many of the letters from your group, I fully expected that I would try to avoid my son in an effort to return to our normal relationship and refrain from further shameless behavior. And indeed, that is exactly what happened.

My son tried to entice me into joining him for more movie nights. As soon as Mark left the house, Nathan would make popcorn and dim the lights in the living room. If he hadn't already been to the video store, he would make a point of asking me if there was anything I wanted to see. But I was aloof.

After several weeks, Nathan stopped trying. Of course, I then began to worry that I would lose him, that he would leave as soon as school was over in just a few weeks. Had I made a big mistake by pushing him away?

I worried frantically for almost a week and tried to engage Nathan without success. Then, on a Thursday, I tried to bring up Nathan's future plans while we had dinner with just the two of us because Mark had called earlier to say he'd be late. Nathan was evasive and left the kitchen as soon as he finished eating, saying he was going to meet his friends to hang out.

To relax, I had a long hot shower and changed into a robe, the same blue one I'd worn that fateful night weeks ago. I made some popcorn and set a bottle of wine on the table beside the couch, then settled in to watch a movie. I was surprised to hear Nathan came downstairs only minutes later. I had thought he'd already gone.

"Have fun," I waved but didn't turn to look as he passed behind me to get his coat out of the entranceway closet.

"You're watching a movie?" he asked, pulling his coat off a hanger and putting it on.

"Yeah," I replied, not looking.

"What are you watching?" he asked, walking up to stand behind me but looking down at me rather than the movie.

"A chick flick."

"Which one?"

"That one where Meg Ryan loses her good girl image."

"Oh yeah," he said, obvious interest in his voice.

He watched in silence for a minute.

"I thought you were going out," I said.

"I still have a few minutes," he replied, not moving.

I filled my wine glass, deciding not to say anything else.

"She's hot," Nathan said. "Do you mind if I watch for awhile?"

"Suit yourself, but don't stand behind me."

Nathan removed his coat and shoes, then climbed over the back of the couch and plopped down beside me, almost spilling my wine as he bounced down hard.

"Nathan, how many times have I told you ..."

"Sorry Mom."

Meg was just starting to display her hot little body.

"She looks like you, Mom, except smaller upstairs."

"Yeah, right," I bantered back, sipping my wine.

Nathan watched Meg with keen interest, then turned to look at me. I ignored him and continued watching the movie. Rather than trying to sneak a peek like before, he candidly surveyed my chest before turning back to the movie, ostensibly comparing me to Meg. I should have said something, but I didn't. I should have been angry, but I wasn't. I simply felt relieved that he wasn't blocking me out, and that I may be able to find out what he was planning to do when school was over.

When the commercials started, Nathan asked if he could have some wine.

"Sure. Get yourself a glass."

"Can't we share?"

"Don't be so lazy." I elbowed him playfully.

"Mom," he protested, squirming away from me, then reaching for my glass. "It's cooler to share," he said, taking a long sip.

I pulled my feet up and tucked them under myself to sit cross legged on the couch. As Nathan finished his drink, I took the bowl of popcorn from the table, placed it in my lap and began feeding kernels of popcorn into my mouth with exaggerated slowness like I had that night so long ago. The way he watched and the act itself sent an illicit thrill through my body. Stop it, I admonished myself. Keep focused. You just want him to work things out with his Dad so he can stay home.

Nathan handed the glass back to me but I shook my head, guesturing with my hands full of popcorn. "My fingers are all buttery," I explained further. "I used too much."

Interpreting that as a request for a sip, Nathan held the glass to my lips, tipping it up until a trickle of wine dribbled into my mouth. A little spilled on my lips. Nathan reached across to set the glass on the table and then brushed the extra wine away with his fingertip, spreading it back and forth across my lips. Perhaps accidentally, he exerted sufficient pressure to depress my lips, making his touch more of a rub than a brush.

"You should wear lipstick more often," he said. "It makes your mouth look more inviting."

I just nodded as if it was normal for my son to make such inappropriate comments about my appearance. Nathan dipped his hand into the bowl to retrieve some popcorn, moving it about in my lap much like I had done to him. He ate it slowly, mimicking my own seductive consumption. I couldn't help grinning inside at his cockiness though I allowed only the faintest smile to bend my lips. When I lowered my hand to scoop some more popcorn for myself, Nathan quickly moved his fingers to rest a kernel between my lips, pausing for a second before pushing it in.

Though conducted in a playful manner, it was still a poignant, erotic moment. He leaned across me to reach for the wine, pressing closer than necessary, his chest brushing across mine. He scraped so closely across me on the way back that I suspected he was trying to loosen my robe as much as feel my chest.

"Nathan," I complained.

"Sorry Mom. It was a hard reach," was his flimsy excuse. I didn't challenge it.

He took a drink, looking down at my robe. I couldn't help glancing down too and noticed that he had indeed ruffled my robe sufficiently to see that I wasn't wearing anything else to cover my breasts. From his vantage point, he could see deep between the inside swells of my breasts.

"Here Mom," he offered the wine to me again, perhaps to distract my attention from his line of sight. This time he spilled more into my mouth, paused for me to swallow, then tipped the glass again. Savoring the taste, I asked him if he was trying to soften me up.

"For what?" he asked. I didn't answer that and he didn't pursue it.

Placing the glass back on the table, he dipped his finger into the nearly empty glass and rubbed it on my lips again. I knew I shouldn't be letting my son touch me in such a provocative manner and suddenly felt awkward. I tried to push his hand aside to put my own popcorn in my mouth, but he pushed my hand back down into the bowl.

"Let me do that for you while you watch the movie, Mom."

Nathan opened my hand, spilling its popcorn into the bowl. Filling his own hand, he returned to my mouth, pushing a single kernel against my pursed lips. After a brief resistance, I let my lips part so he could push it into my mouth. On the third piece, Nathan's fingers followed past my lips and briefly touched the tip of my tongue. Though a jolt speared straight down my spine to my pelvis, I didn't visibly react.

As he fed me the rest of the popcorn, I sat placidly watching Meg present her erotic side but Nathan never looked at the movie, even to see Meg's sexy body. When the popcorn was done, he picked up the bowl and set it on the side table, dipped his finger into the wine and again spread it over my lips, this time pushing his finger slightly inside my mouth.

"Nathan," I whispered, for no apparent reason since we were alone in the house. "Be good."

"You don't bite, do you?" he responded.

"You know what I mean," I laughed. "Behave yourself."

"You look so pretty when you pout with such ruby red lips," he bantered back. My answering laugh must have encouraged him because he suddenly dipped his hand down into my cleavage, fingers held tightly in a vertical line, and swung his hand towards himself and then away, pushing the lapels of my robe apart, significantly widening the gap between them and expanding his view of my breasts.

"Nathan!"

"What?" he cried, resting his fingers on the top of my left breast, just above my nipple.

"You know what. I'm your mother!"

"I know that," his hand brushed side to side, the tips of his fingertips teasing my breast.

"Your hand is inside my robe."

"I know," he made light of my complaint. "I didn't want to get butter on it."

"That's not the point," my voice rose.

At that moment, Nathan's hand suddenly twisted around, his buttery fingers sliding underneath to cup my full breast while his thumb pressed down on my stiffening nipple. His move shocked me so much I couldn't speak. My mouth was dry and words failed to frame within my brain though my mind was certainly not quiet. His thumb rubbed over and back across my hardening nipple as his fingers gently squeezed my tit below, and still I couldn't speak. Just as I was about to push him away, his voice shocked me again.

"I spoke to Dad."

Those four words froze me like a statue. His hand continued to fondle my breast, his fingers sliding up to join his thumb, pinching my distended nipple and rolling it their buttery grip. I finally managed a single word just as he stretched my tit up by tugging on my nipple.

"What?" I cried.

Nathan pushed my tit down, mashing and rolling it against my chest, before squeezing my nipple and tugging it up again. Even through my shock, my brain registered how good that felt.

"We talked," he said. "About the summer."

His lips covered mine in an impromtu kiss. Within seconds, I parted my lips to accept his tongue. The kiss was insistent, demanding, unlike the slow exploration I had so enjoyed weeks before. But somehow, it was just as exciting. He was different somehow, exhibiting a confidence he hadn't shown before. His hand slid off my breast and tried to push down to my panties but was blocked by the belt of my robe, still cinched tight around my waist.

I was gasping when the kiss ended.

"What happened?" I rasped, forgetting that he had just mauled my tit and pushed his tongue inside my mouth, my mind focused on the conversation that could govern my son's future.

His hand returned to manipulate my breast.

"I told him I did want to learn the business, but in my own way, that I couldn't become him."

"What did he say to that?" I asked, eagerly awaiting his response, consciously oblivious of his fondling or, the be more truthful, tolerating it and not finding it hard to do so.

Nathan looked down. "Undo your belt and I'll tell you."

"Nathan!" I looked suitably shocked.

Nathan shrugged.

"Tell me what your father said," I demanded.

He held my eyes, steadily. "Undo your belt first," he repeated.

Clamping my lips together in a show of repressed anger, I nevertheless loosened the belt. Nathan stared into my eyes, not once glancing away, but as soon as the belt was undone, he let go of my breast and pushed the robe apart, clearing it off both legs. Only then did he look down at the pair of black lace panties, the only thing I wore under the robe, the sheer material and my wide open thighs leaving little to the imagination. Why had I sat cross legged?

"Tell me what your father said," I repeated, my voice demanding.

Looking up, Nathan said, "You have beautiful hair, Mom." He brushed my hair back from my face, letting it slip through his fingers.

Disconcerted but refusing to be sidetracked, I said again, "What did he say?" my voice very firm.

"He seemed very pleased. He said I should do things my own way. A man has to, to get what he wants in life."

Nathan stared intently into my eyes as he repeated his father's words, moving his hand onto my tummy and sliding it slowly down, over my panties and between my legs. There, he curled his fingers and cupped his hand against my pussy. Try as I might, I couldn't close my legs. I'm not sure I wanted to. His newfound confidence was overpowering, intoxicating.

"Nathan," I gasped, my hand clutching his forearm.

"He's not interested in home," Nathan whispered, "but I am."

His fingers cupped me tighter, released, and squeezed again.

"Nathan ... the other night ... we can't."

"Do you want me to stay?" he asked, the implication of a negative answer hanging ominously in the air.

I didn't answer. His fingers began rubbing me. His lips choked off my protest and his hand bunched my soft red hair to hold my head still while he worked my mouth. When I opened my eyes, I became aware that my hips were moving, pushing my panties against his rubbing hand. How could I expect to stop him when I responded so easily, so desperately?

"Do you want me to stay?" he repeated. His fingers kept rubbing.

Reluctantly, I nodded. His hand paused to allow his thumb to hook over the top of my panties, sliding down on the inside, slipping between my damp, lightly haired furrow.

"Then, take off your panties," he whispered.

"What?" I said aloud, my surprise evident.

"Take off your panties," he reiterated, calmly, in the same firm voice.

I held firm, not moving.

"I know what he's done, what he's still doing. I want to be able to sit here in this room, while he's in it, knowing that his wife played the same game on him and took off her panties for another man, right here. For me."

I stared in shock. He and his father had already started their implicit competition but poor Mark had no idea how big the playing field really was, and just how much he stood to lose. Silently, I hooked my thumbs in the panties and slid them over my hips, lifting my ass to help, untucking my legs and raising my knees so I could snap the panties up my thighs and down my calves, held prettily together now, and off. Setting my feet on the floor, I dropped the panties in Nathan's lap.

Nathan looked down at the panties, then slid his hand between my closed knees and pulled them apart. He slid his hand up the length of my right thigh, along the inside, until his hand was poised in front of my pussy. He looked up into my eyes.

"Is that what you want?" I whispered.

"Yes." His voice was hoarse.

He pushed his fingers between my lips, brushing them up and down, soaking them before pushing inside. I opened my arms and welcomed his lips on mine again. I was so wet, I could hear his fingers sloshing lewdly inside me as we kissed. I didn't care. I loved the feel of him there. When the kiss ended, Nathan tried to pull me sideways down onto the couch.

"No, we should go upstairs," I whispered.

"We won't be able to hear his car if he comes home," Nathan answered.

He stood and dropped his pants, and then his boxers, letting his impressive, strong, young cock spring free to dangle before me. Even thought I had felt it pressing hard between my shoulder blades its size still surprised me. Poor Mark. Nathan smiled when he saw the expression on my face. He took my right hand and pulled, twisting me onto my back on the couch. Kneeling, he grasped my legs under my knees and pulled me toward him, holding my legs open and pushing my thighs back onto my breasts.

"Nathan, maybe we should ..."

He moved quickly forward, pushed his pole down to meet my hole, and shoved.

"Unnnngghhhhhh." He was inside me.

"Ohhhhhhh," I groaned as my son pushed his full length inside me, slowly, allowing my seldom used tunnel to expand as its walls retreated from this imposing invader. He stopped when he bottomed out, but only for a few seconds. Placing his hands over my tits and squeezing my nipples in the circle of his firm grip, he started fucking me, slowly at first, but ever increasing his pace and the strength of his thrusts.

There was a lot of pent up energy inside us both that needed to be released, and he was trying hard to break the shell that held it inside of me. I moaned and groaned shamelessly as Nathan slammed into me, bending me almost double as he stretched up on his haunches to really dig in. Our thighs slapped loudly and wetly together. There was no way we could have heard Mark's car drive up and I wondered afterward if passersby could hear us rutting inside.

He ended suddenly with a loud grunting groan, his seed gushing forth, filling me and triggering my own orgasm. We lay gasping for breath for a couple of minutes before Nathan pulled back, grasping my hands and pulling me with him. I thought he was helping me up but he tried to twist me around. God. He wanted to turn me over, to fuck me from behind right away.

My tame sex life with Mark hadn't prepared me for crouching on all fours in my own living room. I resisted. Failing to turn me over, Nathan pushed my tummy against the back of the couch, pressed my knees apart and slid his cock into me. God. I gasped loudly with the fullness of him. As he banged into me my head rocked forward over the back of the couch, a motion exacerbated when Nathan gripped the back of the couch on either side of me for leverage and began thrusting harder. He was shoving up so hard that my tummy was lifted to the top of the couch and I ended up draped over the back with Nathan half standing, wildly shagging the shit out of me.

I had never been fucked like this. Is this what Mark had wanted? A woman to wantonly let him have his way with her, any way he wanted, wherever he wanted? Why hadn't he asked? No. Why hadn't he taken me like this? There was no need to go astray. I liked it, and his son was proving that right now. Go ahead, I screamed in my mind. Bang me. Fuck me hard. Slam your cock in me. I don't care. Yeah, oh yeah. Fuck me hard. Come on, give it to me. Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me. Oh, yeah. It's coming, it's coming.

"Yeaaaahhhhhhh!" I wailed, just as Nathan's second gush burst inside me.

He pulled out a minute later, gathered his clothes and walked past me without saying a word. I was still laying over the back of the couch when I heard his bedroom door close. Minutes later I pulled myself together, put my robe on, and took the wine glass and popcorn bowl into the kitchen. Still the mother, I noticed that some of Nathan's seed had spilled out of me onto the back of the couch. I was still cleaning it up when Mark came home.

"Spill something?" he asked as he took his coat and shoes off, walking over to give me a peck on the cheek, probably not realizing he carried a faint smell of perfume.

"A little wine," I said.

"Oh, oh," he said, stooping to take a close look. "Will it come out?", he asked. "We just bought that couch."

Yeah, six years ago, I thought. It wasn't worth mentioning.

"Where's Nathan?"

"He went to bed. He seemed tuckered out." I smiled at my hypocrisy.

"Oh? Did he tell you he's going work for me, learn the ropes?"

"Yes," I replied. "He asked for my support."

"Oh yeah," Mark laughed. "Well you better help him all you can. He's going to need it. He has man up now." Mark turned to go up the stairs.

"Don't worry," I said to my husband's retreating back, "I'll give him everything he needs."

The next day I was wearing the blue robe again waiting for Nathan to come home from school. I was sitting in the kitchen, drinking a cup of coffee when he and his friend Ken came in. Nathan took one look at me and told Ken he'd forgotten that he had to do some chores he promised me so he couldn't hang out. Ken left after a few minutes. I followed the boys out of the kitchen as Nathan accompanied Ken to the front door. When the door closed, Nathan turned to find me bending over the back of the couch, digging my hands behind the cushions.

"I lost something here last night," I said. "Can you help me find it before your Dad comes home?"

"Sure Mom," he answered.

I heard him step up behind me but then he was quiet. I continued rummaging around behind the cushions, letting my bottom shake more than necessary. I wasn't surprised when Nathan's hands lightly gripped my hips, holding me gently but firmly. 

"I meant help me look, not hold me still," I said, my hips still managing to sway in his hands.

My robe bunched at the side of my legs as Nathan gathered it up in his fingers. When his hands were full, he slid them over my hips, pulling the robe up and piling it on my back.

"Nathan, stop it," I complained.

Ignoring me, Nathan said, "Mom. That's so bad. You're not wearing panties."

"That's what I'm looking for," I said, acting again like there wasn't anything wrong with him baring my bottom. Talk about being obvious.

He didn't answer but I heard his belt being undone, and then his zipper.

"I guess I'm a bad girl," I said, wiggling my bottom.

"Yes," he said. "You're a very naughty woman."

I made a mental note to discard the little girl act. That was probably something Mark would like but clearly my son wanted to deal with a woman. I widened my stance a few inches and rose up on my tippy toes, tensing my leg muscles prettily. I may have put a few extra pounds on my bottom but I had nice legs. I knew that.

"God, Mom," Nathan gasped.

He was already breathing hard and he wasn't even inside me yet. I was pleased.

"Do you like that?" I asked.

"Oh yeah," he answered.

"Then don't bring your friends home with you if you want me to greet you properly," I repremanded him.

In answer, the head of his cock probed between my legs. Nudge, nudge. I offered little resistance, having waited all afternoon for my son to come home. As soon as his manhood popped inside it slid easily up through my slippery channel until it was more than halfway in. Nathan gasped in surprise, then pulled back and paused before starting his next thrust.

"That is, unless there's something else you'd rather do," I said, wiggling my bottom again.

"No," he gasped, pushing in, slowly, back to halfway and beyond, two thirds, three quarters, as deep then as his father had ever reached.

Again he pulled back, almost all the way out. I adjusted my feet, stepping on top of his like I'd done with my Dad as a little girl, giggling as he walked me around. Mark had never done that with Nathan.

In he plunged, his thighs tensing with effort as he thrust higher just to reach the same point now that I was standing on him, attaining his previous depth and pushing beyond, holding there, filling me with his gorgeous young cock. It was so thick and long, and it seemed to shimmy, transferring the strain from his quivering thigh muscles deep inside me. Five, ten, fifteen seconds. Only then did he withdraw, tantalizingly slow.

I was surprised when he pulled right out, filling the air with a sucking sound in concert with my disappointed groan. But he immediately pushed back in, and my elated moan lasted the entire traverse as his meat passed through me once more, meeting and exceeding its former goal yet again. I was pushed up onto my tippy toes, even standing on his feet. I could feel myself drooling on him on his cock. Only three thrusts and I was creaming all over his manliness. A final push and I was lifted completely off my toes, dangling on him, impaled. I think I whimpered.

"I love it. Do you Mom?"

"Yesssssss," I hissed. "Yessssss."

"I'll try to make you love it more every day," he whispered, starting his long slide out.

He stopped talking then, and I was grateful. I need him to just fuck me, and he did. Slowly, intensely. Never faster, just those long slow, penetrating thrusts, each time holding me up quivering on his love pole. I came after just a few more thrusts but he kept coming, relentlessly, until that overwhelming feeling began to spread through me again, and then again. Four times I came, and on the last one his cream gushed into my cunt, filling me, as his hands squeezed my tits hard, not on purpose, just reacting. Only then, in the final throes of his own orgasm, did his pace change and he jackhammered me with a series of frantic minithrusts.

Seconds later, he pulled out, just as Mark's car crunched into the driveway. Nathan stumbled up the stairs, trying to run but finding it hard to make his legs work. I was cleaning the couch, apparently, when Mark came through the door.

"Still at that?" he asked. "Didn't the stain come out?"

He tossed his coat over the back of the couch, leaving it for me to put away. He didn't give me a kiss or a hug.

"Is dinner ready?" he asked, walking quickly into the kitchen. "I'm starved."

"Just about," I called, following my husband into the kitchen to finish preparing dinner. He was sitting at the table and as I set out the dishes and food, I could feel my son's spunk trickling down the inside of my thighs.

"Can you call Nathan?" I asked. Mark was looking at his blackberry.

"Can you do that, babe?" It was a statement, though is sounded like a question. "I've got a few messages that I have to answer right away."

As I neared his bedroom door, Nathan came out wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants.

"Dinner's ready." I said quietly.

"Thank's Mom. Sorry I wasn't down sooner. I had to, you know, subside." He smiled sheepishly.

"Oh?" I smirked.

"Yeah," he replied.

"Tell your Dad I'm having a quick shower." I looked down as the lump in his sweats. "Maybe you should put on a pair of jeans." Laughing as I walked away, I added, "And don't be late tomorrow."

Nathan wasn't late. He was early. As I listened to him rushing around downstairs, calling my name, I smiled at the thought of this eagerness, picturing him roaring out of school as fast as his legs could carry him, arriving breathless at home. No wonder he sounded increasingly frantic when his calls went unanswered. Had he rushed home for nothing, bruising his favorite body part as he ran, chafing it against the inside of his jeans, thrusting harder against the rough denim with each burning thought of what awaited him at the end of his mad dash home.

"MOM," he called, his feet stamping up the stairs.

Mom," he yelled, stomping down the hallway and into my room.

Mom?" his voice drifted was more distant as he looked into my bathroom.

"Shit!" he swore, his voice closer now, in the hallway again, probably by the open bathroom door. "Shit," his frustration vented again, his steps coming closer, towards his room, to me.

The door burst open.

"Holy shit," he said but in a completely different tone.

I smiled, though Nathan couldn't see it because my face was buried in his mattress. I did, however, lift my pelvis from the bed, just slightly, so he could better see my naked ass and the strip of bare, glistening pussy through my parted legs. Lowering myself, I spread my legs wider.

The sounds of frantic undressing and tossed shoes and clothes followed immediately.

"Hurry," I said, not for myself though I had been laying there patiently for half an hour. I just wanted to step the intensity of the situation up as high as I could.

"Hurry," I groaned, reaching under myself with both hands to pry my thighs apart even as I lifted and waved my ass from side to side.

"Hurry," I begged as his weight depressed the mattress.

"Hurry," I cried joyously as his hands curled around my legs at the juncture with my hips, lifting me, readying me for his attack.

"God," I groaned as he impaled me with his weapon. I laughed in joy with the slap of each frantic thrust, at the sound of his raspy breath gasping his need with each shove, thrilled to the bulge of his meaty mass inside me. My whole body rocked into the mattress. How can anybody fuck so fast? He was like a desperate prisoner returning to his cell to find his dream girl tied to his bunk. How long would she be there before they took her away?

Just as I wondered how long I could take such a shagging, he yelled out and his copious spend burst inside me. He collapsed on my back, panting hard. I allowed him only a minute.

"Did you like that?"

"God, Mom," he gasped. "That was incredible. I'll never forget it."

He still hadn't recovered his breath.

"Who said you could stop?"

"What?"

I wiggled my bum and squeezed my pussy. He was still inside me.

"Keep going," I commanded.

He was only eighteen. I knew he could rise to the challenge, but could where was getting the energy, the need? Years of what I suddenly realized was boring sex? I don't know for sure. All I knew was I wanted him ... now. I pushed my ass up, bumping against him, urging him on.

"Come on," I insisted, closing my legs to increase the pressure on his cock which I could already feel stiffening to the task.

He pulled back but not all the way out and as I closed my legs tight together, he pushed, shoving al the way into me.

"That's it," I cried. "Fuck me."

He did, in long slow thrusts like he had against the back of the couch yesterday. But this time, he slowly increased his pace. Soon he lifted himself to straddle his knees on either side of me, almost sitting on me as he thrust harder and faster. Eventually, he reached forward to cup his hands over my shoulders so he could pull himself into me even harder, hips pistoning as he dug into me from behind.

He grunted with the effort. As he lifted his weight to reposition himself, I thrust my ass back into him, catching him by surprise. He seemed to like that and held himself up, moaning each time I thrust my ass back at him, impaling myself on his root, matching his moans with my own sexy womanly sounds. He shifted higher, squatting on his feet and I followed him, lifting myself to my knees, thrusting my ass up wantonly, my head still firmly buried in the bed.

We continued to fuck in desperate need. He reached down to grasp my hands and pulled them back to my hips, pulling on them to help his cock dig as far in as it could, plugging me completely. We moaned and groaned as his thrusts grew even wilder, rocking my head into the mattress. I loved it, loved the way he was taking me. Yes. Took me. He wasn't just fucking me, he was taking me, filling his room with our guttural sounds.

We cried out together, announcing our incestous love as he filled me again, his creamy gift squeezing out past the root of his stem, dripping as he pulled it out and wanked the dregs over my convulsing bottom and shaking thighs. He sat back on his haunches, gasping for air. I stayed as I was, head down, ass up, his cream covering my ass and thighs, dripping from my raw, puffy pussy. I lay like that with no shame so he could see what he'd done to me, to his mother, his woman.

I didn't move until we heard a car door slam in front of our house. Calmly, I climbed off Nathan's bed, put on my robe, and walked downstairs to greet my husband. Mark made several remarks about my appearance, wondering what was going on with me, dressing in a housecoat before supper and wandering around with my hair in such a mess. Was I sick, he wanted to know, because if not it was a hell of a thing for our son to see me like that.

I took Mark's words to heart and the next night, I didn't arrive home until after him.

"Where have you been?" he asked.

"Shopping," I replied. "Make reservations for dinner somewhere for the three of us. I want to go out," I said, carrying my bags upstairs.

Moments later, before Mark could finish his calls and join me in our bedroom, I came downstairs. Mark was sitting in the living room having a drink. Nathan stood just inside the kitchen doorway, out of his father's line of sight but well positioned to see me travel the entire flight of stairs. I stepped down slowly, allowing the muscles in my legs to tense nicely to show them to their best advantage. The look on Nathan's face was all the reward I needed. Mark hadn't seen me yet.

It wasn't until I neared the bottom of the stairs and Nathan whistled his appreciation that Mark looked up and saw my new dress, a very cute, sleeveless dark green number that offset my eyes and soft red hair perfectly. It was a simple dress with a high neckline but it hugged my figure closely, somehow giving the illusion of being very short yet the hem fell more than halfway to my knees. The high sandals that wrapped around my ankles matched the dress perfectly.

"So, you really want to go out, then?" Mark asked.

"Yes," I replied simply.

"I suppose I have to get dressed up if you're going like that," he muttered, looking at his watch.

"If you have to be somewhere, Nathan can take me out," I replied tersely.

"No, no. But I'll have to be done by nine. I have a late meeting." I could tell he was lying.

"That's lots of time," I said, turning to Nathan. "Please put on a nice pair of slacks, dear."

"Right away, Mom." He bounded up the stairs but I was pleased to see his reluctance to tear his eyes away from me. I don't think he'd stopped staring at me since he first saw me at the top of the stairs.

"Gregors would be fine. They should have room." Gregors was more than casual and fairly expensive.

"Uh, sure," Mark replied, getting up and walking toward me. "I better do a quick change, then. You look much better today, Marilyn."

"Thanks," I acknowledged his grudging compliment. "Why don't you take your own car so we don't have to worry about the time. Nathan can drive me home."

"Sure," Mark agreed, starting up the stairs.

I rode to the restaurant with Mark while Nathan followed in my car. We had a lovely meal and took our time in the rear booth I selected after rejecting the table near the other customers that the host initially chose for us. Mark was more attentive than usual, perhaps unconsciously competing with his son. He seemed genuinely reluctant to leave just before nine but he had set the stage for a 'business' meeting and although hesitant I'm sure he didn't really want to back out.

"Will you order a couple of drinks before you go. I want to relax over dessert and I want Nathan to keep me company."

Mark did as I asked without complaint or even an askance look, which was a little out of character for him. He even had the thoughtfulness not to leave until the waiter had delivered the drinks and brought our desserts, in case there was a hassle with Nathan's age.

Nathan and I had a nice time alone, I enjoying my wine and he the drinks his father had ordered. It took him fifteen minutes but he gradually edged closer to me after his father left. It was amusing to watch him innocently change his position but each time end up an inch closer to me. It was very flattering. Soon he had moved so far that he was just a few inches away, more than two feet from his original position at the center of the U-shaped booth.

Our conversation stayed on a completely platonic level and if anyone overheard us without seeing our age difference I'm sure they would have thought we'd been married for at least ten years. But there was no denying the tension in the air, a wonderful libidinous ether that seemed to surround us tightly, binding in our own little world. Maybe that was the invisible force that drove Nathan to sit so close to me.

It was only after the waiter had brought the bill and we were nearly finished our second drink that I introduced an explicit reference of an even remotely sexual nature.

"Do you like my new dress, Nathan? You seemed to."

"I absolute love it. It makes you look so beautiful, and your legs look astounding. Every man here noticed when we came in."

"Nonsense," I pooh poohed his comment, nonetheless very pleased.

"You're beautiful," he repeated.

We continued talking for awhile, in no hurry. Nathan didn't make any further references that could be considered innappropriate between a mother and son. He seemed to have an innate understanding that it would have been the wrong thing to do. Mark, I'm sure, would have made some kind of tacky reference about how he could hardly wait to get me home, especially within earshot of the waiter or another male patron. But my son had class and I was going to reward him for it.

Outside, I didn't have to signal Nathan to open the car door for me. He guided me to the passenger side with a light touch on my arm, nothing inappropriate to be observed in public. In the car, he turned to say how much he had enjoyed dinner and that he hoped we could do it again, on our own. He didn't try to put his hand on my leg, or kiss me, but he didn't dawdle on the way home.

As I expected, Mark wasn't home. While Nathan put my car in the garage I went in the house. By the time he came in the front door, I had removed my coat and was leaning against the back of the couch waiting. As Nathan took off his coat and slipped off his shoes, I lifted each leg in turn and pulled off the sheer knee highs I was wearing. I took extra time with the second leg, knowing that I had caught his attention. As I tugged the end of the nylon off my toes, I glanced sideways at my son, flashing him the softest, most seductive smile I could muster.

Leaning back and resting my bottom on the top edge of the couch, I widened my stance and cooed softly, "Can you unhook my neck for me before I go to bed?" I held the knee highs out behind me and dropped them onto the couch. I lifted my heels, holding myself up on the balls of my feet so the muscles in my legs would tighten and make them look sexier.

Nathan approached me but he didn't rush, which I appreciated. I knew his teenager hormones must be pushing hard, the lust in his eyes told me that, but I could also sense that he understood how much better these moments were if you savor them. I'm sure if he was with a young girl his own age he would have given in to his initial instinct and rushed in, pulling his cock out on the way, but being with a mature woman was teaching him how much more there was to extract from each new experience.

He paused in front of me, waiting.

"Aren't you going to turn around, so I can unhook it?" he asked.

"Just reach around," I instructed, huskily.

He stepped forward, placing his feet outside of mine so he could get close. I pushed him back.

"I want to feel you between my legs," I whispered.

As he stepped back, I moved my feet farther apart to make room for him. As he stepped forward, I tilted my head forehead to rest it on his shoulder and pulled my hair aside to bare my neck so he could find the little hook at the top of my zipper. My open thighs brushed the sides of his. Nathan had difficulty opening the hook with his big hands but he persevered until he finally succeeded. By that time, I had slipped my arms around his waist and was gently pulling him closer to me with my hands pressed into the small of his back.

"There you go, Mom," Nathan said in the most gentle voice I had ever heard from him.

I turned my head to the side, twisting it up so my mouth connected with his neck. Speaking into the side of his throat, I spoke in that same husky voice, "Please do my zipper too." I nuzzled his neck.

Nathan dragged the zipper down my back with the same relish he had exhibited on his deliberate, sauntering approach. His hand slowed as it slid into the sway of my lower back, as if it wanted to defer the end of its journey. When the zipper stopped, Nathan stood still and his hand continued to grasp the little handle on the zipper. I pulled my hands from his waist, dropping them to my sides. Nathan stayed close, breathing in deep, inhaling my perfume, reluctant to step away.

I pulled the dress up my legs until my hands were on my hips and the hem was high enough to expose me. Nathan looked down and could see what I saw, the lightlly colored, sparse tuft of hair above my pussy. I could feel the shock in the tensing of his body.

"Mom, you didn't ..."

I cut him off. "Of course not."

I knew it would shock him to think that his mother would go to a restaurant without wearing panties, and sit there with her husband and son. But further explanation was required, words that might excite him even more.

"Do you remember when your Dad left?" Nathan nodded. "I went to the ladies room?" He nodded again. Comprehension lit his eyes.

"You didn't ..."

"Yes," I whispered. "For you. I felt so wicked, speaking so properly with you, knowing that I was sitting there, open and bare for you." I slipped my hands around him, pulling him closer, spreading my legs more to fit him in. I could feel his hardness, could even feel it growing.

"I can't believe it," Nathan gasped.

"Believe it," I whispered.

I slipped my hands around to his front and undid his belt, then pulled his zipper down. I pulled his pants apart and immediately slipped my hand into his shorts, grasping his cock and pulling it out, tugging it up into full stance.

"Is this for your lady?" I asked.

Nathan groaned, and repeated that wonderful sound several more times as my hand closed around his shaft and stroked his gorgeous cock while my other hand cupped his cockhead, my thumb rubbing its underside.

"I want to feel this inside me before your father comes home."

"Let's go upstairs," he moaned.

"I can't wait. Put it in me here." I lifted myself onto the end of my toes, like doing point in ballet, lined his meat up with the entrance to my pussy and slipped it up and down in my slit, and then pulled the head inside me.

"Ohhhhhh. That's right. Fuck me, baby," I cried, my voice guttural. I slid forward, shifting my weight from the couch onto my son's fine cock, sliding all the way down to his root, lifting my legs to encircle his hips with my knees and closing my feet behind him.

"Oh, god Mom," he grunted, struggling to accommodate my weight.

"That's right, that's m name. Fuck your Mom," I urged, pushing my hips down and squeezing him hard, instantly rewarded when, as his legs strained up to hold me, his cock bulged deep inside me.

He fucked me differently than the day before from behind. Instead of long, slow thrusts he jolted into me with quick hard shoves, quick retreats, and fast, short jams upward. Quicker and quicker they came, in concert with our pants, my moans, and his groans. We were both grunting within a few minutes as he bounced me up with each upward shove.

"Mom, mom, mom," Nathan began gasping my name, his pace frenzied now. I struggled to hang on, holding tight, lifting and tightening my legs and, I hoped he'd forgive me, biting his neck. I unleashed a stream of womanly sounds, sounds of a wild, abandoned bitch in heat, a woman in the throes of ecstasy, the frantically desperate sounds that vault a man higher, too close to pull back from his own exploding release.

There. He was flushing his fluid into me, legs strained to the breaking point, not thrusting, just straining to hold his cock as far in me as he could. I was rigid on him, clasping him with every limb I had, then relaxing slowly, subject to sudden spasms, before finally resting, draped over him, slack legs held up only because his hands gripped the bottom of my thighs.

Nathan started to pull out.

"No!" I yelled. "Stay inside me."

Shocked by the intensity of my commanding voice, he turned into a statue.

"Take me upstairs, like this," I whispered, in sudden contrast from my previous tone.

I could have laughed the way my son struggled to hold me as he dipped down, making sure that my open legs stayed close enough not to lose his softening manhood as he reached to pull his pants up his legs. I grabbed his pants, hooking my fingers in the belt loops and holding them beneath my legs, high enough that he could walk awkwardly on his rubbery legs toward the stairs. Slowly, we shuffled our way up the stairs, swaying from side to side as we negotiated each step with difficulty, the rocking motion changing his semihard stick into a thick hard shaft by the time we reached the top.

He was thrusting into me again as we wobbled down the hallway, desperate to reach his bed. Frustration spilled out when I flung my hands out to grasp the doorway, preventing him from getting me to the bed.

"MOM!" he cried, puzzled by my sudden resistance.

"Work for it," I laughed.

He pushed hard but my grip held.

"Don't you want it?" I laughed. "It's going to be good, I promise."

"Unnngggghhhhh," he yelled, lunging, breaking my grip on the doorway, stumbling forward, losing his footing and falling on top of me just as we reached the bed, slipping out of me.

"Ahhhhhhh," he cried, flinging my knees back, grasping them from behind and pushing them to the mattress beside me, rolling my ass up from the bed, opening my pussy, now defenseless before him. His eyes were wild with desperation, fiery with passion and glinting with victory. I stared at his eyes, then let my eyes fall to his wobbling cock, hard and hungry, hovering near my entrance. Smiling wickedly, he lowered it until it nuzzled my soaking slit. He flicked his hips, rubbing the head of his cock up and down my puffy lips, grinning as my eyes glazed and my mouth opened to release a long moan.

He pushed the head inside, but no more. Leaning half over me, holding my legs firmly in place, he taunted me, "Say please."

I tried to push up, to suck him inside me but he held himself aloof. He laughed then, enjoying his payback, wiggling the tip of his cock, teasing me.

"I said say please," he panted.

"Never," I shot back, reaching up to grasp him just below his arms, trying to pull him down on me, but he was too strong.

"Say it," he laughed again, moving his cockhead in me again.

"No!" I was defiant, at least outwardly, but my resolve was weakening. Then he twisted he knife.

"Beg me, and I'll lick it." He smiled that wicked smile again. And then, just as he had been appropriately classy in the restaurant, he became appropriately lewd. His tongue slid slowly out of his mouth and squirreled around in mock manipulation of my pussy, swirling around my lips and then digging up through my slit to flick and circle my clit, then stabbing stiffly inside my cunt.

I disintegrated.

"Please," I whispered, my toes spreading as my feet arched in anticipation.

"Please," I whispered. "I beg you. Please fuck me."

Relenting, Nathan leaned even further over me, down, down until his lips met mine. As his tongue slipped between my lips he shoved himself home inside me. I wailed loudly, my glee muffled by the tongue deep inside my mouth. Having tortured me for such a brief moment, he now lavished my frayed nerves with thrusting bursts of pleasure, hard, fast, and deep.

My defiance, resistance and pleading had worked him into another frenzy. He pounded me furiously, crouching above my haunches, literally rising and dropping on me, bludgeoning me with his cock, forcing the breath out of me in loud groans. Suddenly he pulled my legs flat, continuing to shove himself into me at the same frantic pace, laughing when I raised my legs and struggled to hold them back, opening myself in unprotected submission again.

"You like it like that?" he laughed.

"Yesssss," I hissed.

He scrambled to his feet, straddled my thighs again, and triumphantly lowered his cock into my gaping cunt.

"Then take it," he cried, slamming into me, quickly regaining and surpassing his previous intensity.

It wasn't much longer before he filled me again, taking almost a full minute to unload, squatting over me to drip every last drop on me while I held my ankles beside my head. Finally, he dropped to my side and I stretched my legs out normally. We didn't speak for several minutes.

"Wow, Mom. That was awesome."

"Yeah," I said, turning to smile at him.

"Are you ok with that? It was pretty intense."

"Yeah," I said.

"Awesome," was his only response.

I turned on my side, brushing his chest with my fingers, reaching up to stroke his face and cup his cheek.

"You're my lover now. I'll do anything for you, at least once."

Nathan looked at me intently, seriously. Then he smiled and looked down at his cock, and reached over to touch his finger to the corner of my mouth.

"Anything?"

I couldn't help but laugh. What a little bugger.

"Yes, anything," I confirmed. "But not tonight, and you, mister, have a promise to keep first."

I got up then, surprised to find that my dress was still on, in a band around my waist. I stepped out of it and stood in front of my son, still wearing my bra above my bedraggled dress. "Goodnight," I said and walked to my room.

Mark came home sometime while I was in the shower. He was passed out. I turned out the lights and went to sleep, waking up to a beautiful, sunny Saturday morning. Mark always slept in on Saturdays.

I got up, though it was earlier than my norm. I didn't bother putting on a dressing gown, leaving our room in just my nightie. It was a three quarter length affair and, though not of erotic design, it was still obvious that I wasn't wearing anything underneath. Not the kind of thing I had ever worn outside my bedroom in front of anyone but Mark without being covered by a robe. But I was just going to get a coffee and come upstairs to read the paper. So out I went.

At the top of the stairs, I changed my mind, and turned back, walking carefully and quietly into Nathan's room. He was laying on his back, dead asleep. How beautiful my son looked. I stood admiring him, love swelling up to spread through my body, flooding my mind.

Gingerly, I crawled onto his bed, slowly, taking great care not to wake him. Finally, I reached my goal, and straddled his chest, knees on either side of his shoulders, and thighs wide open. I turned to look back at the open doorway, listening for and comforted by the distant sound of my husband's gentle snoring.

I began to gently stroke Nathan's face. So softly. It took several minutes to wake him. He'd been sleeping so deeply he was even startled when his eyes fluttered open an he saw me looking down at him. Confusion turned to questioning and then to concern. I rarely woke my son.

"Mom! Is something wrong?"

"No sweetie." I smiled.

"Then ... what ..."

"You promised," I said, looking down at my lap, my nightie pulled back to my hips.

Nathan followed my eyes, only then noticing my wide open, bare pussy, now nice and clean and perfumed. I pushed my hips forward, grazing his face with my eager pussy, already moistening. I lifted his head up slightly to bring his mouth into firmer contact, making our orifices one.

"Yes," I groaned as his tongue slipped through his lips to toy with my lower ones, flicking them side to side, then running up and down my slit a dozen times. Soon he was digging deeper, gouging a trench which kept filling with my fluid.

It's hard to believe I didn't wake Mark with my moaning appreciation over the next twenty minutes. I climbed off my son's bed with a huge smile on my face and left his covered in my juice. I turned to look back before I left his room, my smile turning to sympathy as I saw the huge moving tent on his bed. He had already begun to take care of himself.

I swirled my tongue quickly around my lips and whispered, "You have a huge treat coming sometime today."

I went downstairs for my coffee, completely forgetting to put on a robe.