A Silent Affair

At last, she left the room, and I threw the tissues, saturated with my semen, into the waste basket. Later, when I was doing some homework, I noticed that the tissues had vanished, although the basket hadn't been emptied ...

After that, Mum used to come in to look at me in the bath, sometimes – I loved her seeing me naked, and I made no attempt to hide my erection. She'd look at me for a long time, saying nothing, wearing her unfathomable expression, before turning and leaving the bathroom.

It was about then that I became aware of what her nakedness under her dressing gown in the morning meant. I hated the thought of her having sex, but at the same time it was exciting. I think she knew what I was feeling – she would return my accusing stare sullenly, almost defensively, but also defiantly, making no attempt to change her routine, and it became a ritual we followed three or four, sometimes more times a week.

It wasn't just a case of sex with my father or his friends, either. Once, when we'd been sent home from school because of a burst water pipe, I'd caught her in the living room on the sofa with a man I'd never seen before. They were kissing, and he had his hand up her skirt and she had his cock out and was rubbing it slowly. To my eyes it looked enormous, and I just stared at them until my mother saw me.

She looked at me in alarm, but I went to my room and masturbated – I hadn't closed my door properly, and I heard them come upstairs and go into her bedroom.

That evening, she appeared nervous and uncomfortable, but it soon became obvious that I wasn't going to tell my father what I'd seen, and that was the first time she kissed me passionately on the lips, in gratitude, I imagined.

There was another kiss I remembered, at Christmas when I was fourteen. We kissed under the mistletoe – at first, it was just a playful kiss, but then my mother held me tightly and the kiss deepened. Our mouths started to work on each other, and the kiss became long and lingering, until she broke away, breathless.

Now, I propped myself up on one elbow and looked at my mother's naked body, knowing that I could do what I liked to her. Her eyes were closed, and I fondled her heavy breasts, flattened by gravity, moving my hand down to her soft belly. To prove to myself that she was mine to do as I liked with, I parted her legs, rolled on top of her and fucked her again

Afterwards, if I couldn't tell her how much I loved her, I showed her with my hands and mouth. I kissed her breasts, biting them gently and licking her nipples, circling them with my tongue, savouring her heavily stippled aureoles and sucking her rigid nipples. I bit the curved undersides of her breasts, and nibbled her fluttering belly. I kissed her legs and feet, biting and sucking her toes, I kissed her hands, her neck, her shoulders, and then her mouth, trying to force my tongue down her throat, and then I explored every inch of her body with my hands.

I stroked her soft body, front and back – I turned her on her stomach so that I could fondle her bottom properly, slipping my finger into the crack between her cheeks until I found what I was looking for. My mother moaned, then crawled up onto all fours, offering her bottom to me and looking back at me over her shoulder with heavy, sex-drugged eyes.

I used her own juices to lubricate her anus – my cock slid into her surprisingly easily, and I realized that having her bottom fucked was nothing new as far as my mother was concerned. I stroked her naked back and shoulders, letting my hands roam under her to caress her swinging breasts, and then gripping her hips as I repeatedly drove my cock up her backside, listening to her moaning until my semen spurted up her back passage.

My mother was insatiable – after we'd rested for a while, she reached for my cock and quickly brought me to an erection, then she dragged me on top of her and guided my cock into her ...

I don't know how many times we fucked – I was amazed at how quickly I recovered after pumping my semen into her again and again. We forgot all about lunch, and just stayed in bed, kissing and fondling each other when my cock wasn't deep inside her. She seemed to be having a constant orgasm, her body trembling violently from time to time, sometimes limp as a rag doll, sometimes like a wild animal. Her face was covered in her own saliva from kissing me wetly, and her damp hair was plastered over her forehead. Her eyes were permanently half closed, and she moaned every time I touched her. I saw that I'd left bruises on her body, and I guessed that tonight she'd make sure the light was off when she and my father went to bed.

Eventually I fell asleep, exhausted. I don't know how long I slept, but when I woke up I was alone, and when I glanced at my watch I realized that my father would soon be home, and also that I would have to leave shortly to catch my train. I showered quickly and dressed, throwing the few things I'd brought into a bag, and went downstairs.

It seemed my father was already home, because I heard my mother's voice coming from the living room.

'Umm, that's nice – but harder!!'

Then, a moment later, 'Not now – I've got to run Chris to the station, and then you can have me all night – and be rough with me!'

I went into the room, and my father unhurriedly released my mother's breast and grinned at me. For a moment I wondered if perhaps he wouldn't be angry to know that his son was fucking his wife ... perhaps on my next visit I'd find out.

Or perhaps he'd already guessed. My mother had obviously showered and done something with her hair, and applied some makeup, but her eyes were still heavy with sex, and the shadows under them were deeper than ever. Her cheeks were puffy, and her mouth had swollen until it resembled a slice of ripe fruit. She'd put on a semi-transparent plum-coloured blouse that did nothing to hide her bra-less breasts, and a short blue skirt.

She crossed to me and kissed me on the mouth, her lips lingering on mine several seconds than necessary, and then she took my hand – I noticed that she was trembling slightly, and I wondered if Dad had been aware of it too.

'It's time to leave to catch your train, I don't want you to go ...'

I said goodbye to my father, and he accompanied us to the car. When Mum climbed in her already short skirt rode up even higher over her thighs, and I threw my bag in the back and got in beside her. She started the car, and Dad poked his head in though the open window and kissed her – hand he seen my hand on her bare leg?

But he just said 'Hurry back, Liz – I've got plans for you,' and waved at me.

Mum drove off, and as soon as we rounded the corner she stopped the car and turned to me, and I kissed her passionately, slipping my hand up under her top to fondle the same breast that my father had been squeezing. It was a long kiss, and when she drove off again I slid my hand up her bare leg beneath her skirt – as I'd guessed, she wasn't wearing panties ...

It was just a small local station. My mother parked the car and we got out. There were very few people about, and we went round the side of the building, and I hoisted her skirt up around her waist and fucked her against the wall in the shadows.

Then she accompanied me to the ticket barrier, and kissed me goodbye. Not caring if anyone saw us, I again put my hand up inside her top to caress her naked breast, hearing her moaning into my mouth as she squirmed against me, rubbing herself against my cock. Then she pulled away and I reluctantly released her.

I went through the barrier, and looked back. My mother was standing with her hands by her sides, her feet slightly apart and her breasts thrust forward. A light was behind her, silhouetting her body through her almost transparent blouse, so that I could see those wonderful breasts as clearly as if she was naked.

She was staring after me, wearing her usual pouting, sullen expression, and I knew that it wouldn't be long before I came home again...