Catalyst

“Why?”

His question was automatic and I had hoped that he would ask that very question so I could say to him what I so strongly needed to say to him. I leaned towards him just enough so he could take in a better view of my breasts and replied, “Because, it has the same effect on me as I am having on you right now.”

There I had said it. I had let it out. He now knew what I was going through. He knew about my feelings—sexual that is—about him. Provided, of course, his feelings for me were also sexual at that very moment. Oh God, how I wished they were!

I went to my room and sat on the balcony for a long time after that.

Next morning I was a bit apprehensive about facing him. I had revealed to him my secret feelings but I really didn’t know if his feelings were similar or if he felt anything at all. He hadn’t given me any indication as such and my statement was meaningless without any reciprocation from him. Although, I doubted if he misunderstood my meanings. Even if he didn’t feel for me sexually, he could easily have deduced how I felt for him. That made it even worst. If he did not feel for me sexually and I told him that I did feel for him sexually, it kind of put me in an awkward predicament

I felt relieved though. The suspense was over for me. I no longer had secret, hidden desire for my son. It was all out in the open, let the chips fall where they may. I prepared for a confrontation, although, in hindsight, I shouldn’t have expected one. After all, the most he could have said was to ask me to stop it.

He gave no reaction. Not a hint of what he thought about my statement; none, whatsoever. Boy, did I feel disappointed. I would have preferred a negative response to a no response at all. I started to mope once again.

On a positive note, now that everything was out in the open, I became more comfortable with my own sexual feelings. I found it pleasant to fantasize about him, about me and him, about me on top of him, about him between my legs, about him inside of me. I was in a constant state of arousal.

I started to enjoy my laundry sessions. I searched for his briefs, felt them inside and out, inhaled every bit of his aroma that I could, even walked around wearing them, feeling the fabric around my pussy that had been around his dick, somehow getting his penis so close to my cunt.

After a few days of self-pity, it occurred to me that I hadn’t seen him around that much. I started to keep an eye on his comings and goings and realized that he was spending a lot less time around the house. It occurred to me that he probably was uncomfortable around me and tried to stay out as much as possible to avoid me. I couldn’t have that. I had to face up to the situation and undo the damage that I had done. I had to have a heart to heart talk with him and let him know that it was a mistake; that we needed to get past it and never look back.

The only problem was that a conversation like that had to take place without anyone disturbing us so we could have as much time as necessary to patch things up. It had to be face to face, no holds barred, no words restricted. I formulated my words carefully, rehearsed them in my mind over and over, and looked at every angle to change things back to the way they once were. And I waited for the right day.

The day finally came. It was a Friday.

I waited for him to come back from college and as soon as he entered the house, I stopped him and asked him, “Son, your dad is out of town on a business trip. Could you stay home in his absence to keep me company?”

He really couldn’t say no and I wasn’t going to accept a no. I wanted him to stay home so we could hash it out. With his father gone, we had all the time in the world to deal with our situation.

I felt very depressed, even hurt. My heart was breaking as I realized that I was about to end a relationship that never even got started. I was surprised how strong my feelings were and it was amazing that I had fallen so hard for him, knowing full well that there was no possibility of a union between us. For a second, I thought of throwing myself at his feet and begging for him to give me one night, but then that would be impossible. The thought was painful, either way.

He was quiet all the way through supper. I was also withdrawn. As we were done and there was that slight pause before getting up to put dishes away, I said to him, “Son, we need to have a serious conversation. Please give me a chance to explain things to you. I want to clear the air if possible and may be, just may be, we can get back to where we were before.”

I looked at him and found him looking down into his empty plate. He stayed quiet.

“Son, answer me please. Would you come and talk to me after I am done clearing up?”

He nodded in affirmative.

I put things away quickly and went to my room to get ready for our talk. I had planned to hold my talk with him in the TV room because that’s where I had mucked everything up the last time. I wanted to brush up quickly and maybe even prepare a cup of coffee, just like that night, before he came from freshening up.

As I stepped out of the bathroom, I found him standing in my door. I realized then that he had understood my “come and talk to me” to mean that he should come to my room and talk to me. It was okay with me. Actually it was a lot easier to talk in a casual way in my room than in a rigid way as I would have done downstairs on the sofa.

I grabbed his hand as a friendly gesture and led him to my bed. He sat on the side my dresser was and I pulled my little stool and sat next to the bed facing him. I held both of his hand in mine, looked deep into his eyes, and asked him in my best maternal voice, “Now, tell me, are you so angry with me that you can’t even face me and have to stay away from me?”

He was looking at his hands—well at our hands. He mumbled something but I couldn’t quite catch all the words.

I leaned forward and said, again in my best maternal voice, “Son, I can’t hear you. Can you please say it again?”

My face was close to his and my eyes were focused on his forehead. He tried to avoid looking at me and repeated, “I am not mad at you, mom.”

“Then what is the problem. Why are you staying away from me?”

He hesitated. I squeezed his hand to get him to say what was on his mind.

He finally relented, “I am not staying away from you, mom. I am running away from you.”

“Why, son?” I was a bit shocked at his confession. I actually had expected the worst and he was going in the opposite direction.

He finally blurted out, “Because…I have to.”

“Why, because you get excited by me?” I gave him a big, naughty smile. My smile was coming from deep within my being.

He tried to avert his eyes from me but I followed them wherever they focused. I asked again, “Why, because you are afraid that you’ll lose control in my presence?”

He was quiet. I continued, “Son, listen. I am relieved to know that you are not mad at me. I am also relieved to know that you do have some feelings for me because you know that I have strong feeling for you. I actually wanted you to have feelings for me and now that I know you do, we can accept the situation and learn to live with it.”

“How do we learn to live with it?”

“Well, for one, it is okay to feel this way. There is nothing wrong with being sexually excited by your mother or your son. It is only natural when he is so handsome and she is beautiful.” I was encouraged by the slight hint of smile on his face. “It is actually healthy to have such strong drive that even your mother can make you…horny. You should be proud. Not very many men can say that. At the same time, it is okay for me to be aroused by you because you are so manly and I am in my sexual prime.”

I paused for a second and then continued, “The only problem is that we can’t act on our feelings, but we can accept them wholeheartedly and move on. Do you understand me, son?”

He nodded.

“Good, I am glad. Now, let’s get over everything.”

I got up and he did too. I gave him a hug and said, “Son, I love you. Let’s not let any hang ups ruin that.”

“I love you too, mom.”

As he was leaving the room, I said, “Son, if you want, you can come watch a movie with me…if you want. It will give us a chance to be comfortable in each other’s company.”

My relief was tremendous. I found myself whistling as I prepared for the evening. I was happy. Sure, we had ended what could have been, but we had also moved to a new level, which normal mother-son combos don’t get a chance to get to. As I waited for him to return, I found myself applying a bit of makeup and some lipstick. I didn’t take much notice of it. I brushed my hair and put them into a nice pony tail. I went to my closest and found my favourite vest and pink satin sleep shorts. I wore nothing else. I was floating on air, for some reason, as I opened my bed and jumped in.

I don’t know why but I felt the smoothness of my legs to see if there were any stubble problems that I could quickly take care of. I, then, sat in a kneeling position and started flipping through the channels. I muted the sound though, just so I could hear him coming.

When he came, he was wearing his pyjamas that I had bought for him recently. I kept my eyes on the TV, flipping through the channels with sound still on mute. I took my hand off of my stomach and tapped the bed to indicate that he should come and lie next to me. He came and got into bed. I was sitting in the middle of the bed as he spread himself next to me. I could feel the warmth of his body even though there was some distance between us. I could see his feet and part of his legs from where I was sitting. I sat there flipping through the channels as he quietly lay next to me.

Minutes passed like that. I had my left hand across my stomach again with the right elbow leaning on it as I continued flipping channels. He lay there quietly with his head propped on the pillows. From where he was, he could see my entire back from my head down to the tip of my toes.

He didn’t say anything about the sound or the movie that we were supposed to be watching. I stayed focused on the TV as I felt his eyes all over me, or maybe that was just an illusion.

I heard his breathing and knew that it was a bit abnormal. I stayed in that pose. I didn’t want to move. I didn’t want to do anything. I just wanted to be sitting there, waiting for some signal, some response, some initiation from him.

It came in the form of his index finger touching the bottom of my big toe. He pressed on it lightly as if he was playing some sort of a game with me. I didn’t move. He stopped after the first touch. I figured he was testing the waters. My heart was pounding hard.

He came back to my big toe again and this time he covered the ball of my left foot. It was a gentle touch at first then it became a slow caress. I kept my pose and kept flipping through the channels. I started breathing though my mouth so as not to betray my state. I guess lack of any response from me encouraged him a bit and he moved to the heel. He started running his index finger over my heel. It felt good, very good actually, even though the touch was mostly nonsexual.

He moved his finger to my right heel and this time instead of caressing it, he started to trace the outside edge of it. I waited for the contact to become somewhat sexual and it did when his finger rubbed against my butt where it rested on the back of my foot. However, I didn’t move and kept my pose.

He didn’t know if he was allowed to venture into that area but I didn’t stop him. Still, it looked like he didn’t want to risk being told not to do it and he stopped himself. I waited quietly. I didn’t want to encourage, discourage, or lead him in any way. I wanted him to do as he pleased and I wanted to sit back and enjoy everything as passively as possible. Although I realized that I had to give him some sort of feedback or he may take my silence as a no.

He came back to my heel again. This time his finger covered more area on my ass. Soon, his finger was gently, ever so gently, tracing lines on my butt. I stayed in my pose, flipping channels as before, although the speed at which I was flipping was slower. My mind was taking in every millimetre covered by his finger. Soon he went from tracing small straight lines to making small circles. I was very wet and my brain was in extremely high state of stimulation.

I bit my lower lip as he started to move his finger from one cheek to the other and back. Along the way he covered the part in between the two cheeks with as slow a speed as his trembling fingers could muster. I was electrified beyond belief. By now he must have clearly understood that he had my full blessings to proceed in whatever direction he chose—and he chose his direction well. He started to trace the line separating my cheeks.

He caressed the line running downward on my ass. I was on fire as I felt his finger ever so slightly stroke my butt right down the centre with even pressure on each cheek. He succeeded in getting a feedback from me—finally—as I couldn’t help but give a low moan. No sooner had the sound left my throat, I felt his finger push my cheeks apart and make its way deeper through the satin. My shorts did not pose any serious hindrance to his roving digit, even though the angle at which I was sitting made it only possible to go so far before he found the path closed.

I then decided to hell with everything and jumped into the fray. I leaned forward and put my face on the comforter. I extended my arms as far as possible and grabbed the edge of my bed as my breasts pushed into my knees. I raised my feet so that they were perpendicular to my body and my butt came upward with it. I pushed my feet apart enough for him to manoeuvre his way around down below or up above. I then waited for his next move.

He also decided to hell with everything and started to pull my shorts down and off of my hips. I raised my butt enough to let them slide off and then lifted myself to allow him to ease them completely off of my body. I felt a draft as I lay there in that position of submission, butt-naked and dripping wet. “What would be his next move?” I wondered. “Would he touch my lips? Would he fondle my clitoris? Would he run his hand all over my hips, thighs and pussy?”

Well, he surprised me. He placed the tip of his tongue on my asshole. Apparently the draft I had felt earlier was his breathing on my anus. I gave a loud “umph” as my body contracted forward and upward to get away from that wet, warm, and soft appendage of his. I couldn’t believe how erotic that touch was. His hot tongue on my cold anus, licking gently almost caressingly, sending millions of impulses up my spine, making my neurons fire all through my body. I started to buck slightly at first, more severely soon thereafter. I was trying very hard to keep my position so he could continue pumping that charge through my ass with his tongue, while at the same time thrashing around to dislodge him because I couldn’t take it. It was too strange, too powerful, and too stimulating for me. I was surprised, nay shocked, at the stimulation my anus was giving me. It was even more than my clitoris, so much more that I had my first orgasm with my son; he never having touched my clit even once. It was some orgasm though. It had been building for weeks and when it finally arrived, I felt my entire self turning inside out.

Once it was over, I collapsed forward. I was almost off of the bed, that’s how far I fell. He grabbed my legs and pulled me back while at the same time flipped me over onto my backside. He had this triumphant smile on his face as he stood there towering over me like a high-rise building. I squirmed around as if trying to get away from him while he quickly took his clothes off. For the first time in my life I saw a high-rise building protruding out of another high-rise. His dick looked so immense from where I was supine that I gasped with amazement.

He didn’t waste too much time and before I knew it I was feeling that high-rise trying to impale me. He was holding my ankles as I felt my knees against my breasts and my feet rubbing his sides. My thighs were in contact with his and my pussy was being pressed inwards with what felt like a huge pestle. He was trying to get inside of me but instead of opening me wide, he was pressing my lips inward and closing my hole. I screamed as I fumbled around between my legs to stop him from sealing me completely. I grabbed his huge shaft and pushed it away, long enough to open my lips and let the tip of his cock settle in the middle of my hole. I then pressed my lips out and around his penis to make sure that they were out of the way. As he pressed this time, I braced myself to come apart at the seams.

He pushed inward. The pressure that he put on his piston expanded his cock outward as my pussy gave as much resistance as a wet, well-lubricated, thoroughly hot pussy could, and before I could scream “Oh!” I felt myself dilating. I remembered the time I had once before dilated because of this very son, and there I was dilating again as my son tried to getinto my vagina, head-first. I could feel his rubbery dick pressing my hole outward slowly, and I could feel my lips and my skin rubbing against his ever widening head as it bored into me. I stretched and stretched, until I thought I could stretch no more. I felt my pussy expand to its maximum size and beyond as his penis made its way through me. Just when I thought I was about to rip apart, my lips relaxed and my hole quickly closed a little. His head was through and I felt this tremendous relief when I realized that I actually was able to take in that huge cock. Of course, I only managed to take in the circumference. Nothing was certain about the length. Soon I found out about that too. Once his head was in, the resistance my pussy was giving decreased. Suddenly the pressure he was exerting overwhelmed my inside and the rest of his cock slipped in almost instantaneously. I felt it reach to a depth within me that I never even knew I had. I felt it touch my heart, which by the way had jumped into my throat with that last firm shove. He was in me. My son was inside of me. My pussy was filled with my son and if I had put my hand on my belly I would surely have felt him throbbing inside. Of course my hands were firmly positioned on his hips urging him on and in even further. I had never felt such firm butt before in my life. Actually I had never felt a cock that firm before either. It was as if some power had granted me my deepest wish, the man of my dreams had finally come into my life.

Not only did he come into my life, he actually came into me. He came inside of me. It only took a few thrusts. As I finished settling into a nice comfortable position and as he reached as deep as it was possible, he exploded. I felt his sperm spurt out in my cervix—well, it felt like it had made it all the way to my uterus. And there was a lot of it. I began to overflow while he was still halfway done. By the time all the sperm settled into me, I could feel it trailing down my anus, all the way to the bed.

This timehe collapsed. He collapsed rather heavily onto me. I held him in my arms for a long while as his huge cock softened slowly. My pussy closed on it little by little until it closed far enough to force it out ever so gently. The amazing thing was that up until then, he hadn’t touched my breasts, except when he collapsed on top of me, and we hadn’t kissed even once. Of course we had the rest of the night and the whole weekend to sort that out. Then, there was the rest of our lives…but I didn’t want to think that far ahead. I was content in knowing that once in my life, that even at my age, I could feel those special feelings and be with that special man that some women yearn for all their lives to no avail. That reminded me of Samantha, and I chuckled as I imagined the look on her face when I would reveal my secret to her. Or may be I won’t. I had plenty of time to decide.