One Mother, One Son, One Morning

"I wondered if, um... I wondered if you thought that I looked pretty, Tim."

Why do you need to ask that?

The direction of his anger changes in an instant. A memory of his mother in the kitchen preparing food and drinks for his father and his father's friends. Of the sounds that they and the young women who accompanied them had made within their room, and whose sordid meaning he had only understood years later.

"Can I be blunt, Mom?"

He stares at the door, but he remembers how he never heard his father tell his mother how beautiful she was. Remembers how he too has not once reminded her of her beauty in a voice that she could not mistakenly construe as anything but sincere.

"Of course, Tim."

"Then... I think that you are the most beautiful woman that I've ever seen, Mom, and if you were my girlfriend then I'd want to spend all day looking at you."

His voice earnest. Passionate. The words coming out so wrong!

If my girlfriendlooked like you then I would want to spend all daylooking at her.

So wrong, but at the same time so truthful. Might she realize his true feelings? No, of course she won't. Of course she could never imagine such a perverse possibility. Could never know how much more he would say if she just gave him her blessing.

"Thank you, Tim... Thank you a lot."

Good. She's pleased. Is happy. He breathes once more, and as he does so he feels a strange mixture of happiness and sorrow at her words. Why should she have to thank someone for telling her such an obvious truth? How can he have failed to make sure that he told her how attractive she was every single day?

"It's just the truth, Mom. You are beautiful..."

He pauses. Swallows. Imagines telling her just exactly how beautiful she is to him. Knows that he would rather have her unsuspecting love than ruin her impression of him.

"I'll be quick, okay?"

A smile. His mind determined. Already thinking of how he will let her know just how attractive she is tomorrow. He goes to step into the bathroom, knowing that he can never let her learn the extent of his admiration but happy regardless that at least he can please her that much; and then her voice stops him once more.

"If you were my... If you were my boyfriend, Tim, then I would want to spend all day showing myself to you."

A giggle from the direction of the beds that he wished that he could have pushed together, her words and the happiness in her voice startling him.

He turns to face her, trying not to stare at her, knowing that he could easily say too much, that it would be safest just to leave the comment unanswered but at the same time too intoxicated by the thought to leave it at that.

"You wouldn't say that if you knew what I'd want you to be wearing, Mom!" he laughs again, wanting to see her naked once more, his heart racing, his cock aching with the need to bury itself within her beautiful body. "It would cover a lot less than that blanket."

Why not just tell her that you'd like to bonk her, youfucking idiot!

"And what makes you think that I'd want to wear any clothes?" she responds with another giggle, her cheeks flushed, her eyes sparkling, "If you wanted... If you wanted to look at me, I wouldn't hide anything from you, Tim..." she looks down at the floor then, perhaps realizing how her words might sound and not sure how to apologise without admitting that she knows what she has mistakenly implied.

Then tell me how I can become your boyfriend, Mom! How much will you show me if I'm just your son? Would you mind if I wanked off looking at you? Would you mind if I gobbled your pussy whilst I did so?

"That'd be too cool!"

He feels the dizziness of his desire sweep over him even as he finishes the words. He hates the thought that he might have made her say something embarrassing, but he's wanted her for so long, has wanted to care for her, to protect her and to fuck her for what seems like all of his life. He imagines pushing her blanket away. Has a brief image of himself kissing her erect nipples as he fingers her wet pussy, and then he realizes that his desire to fuck her is only beaten by his desire to ensure that she is happy. If for that he needs to keep silent and to ignore his own desire; then so be it. Hell, even if it needed him to watch her fuck another man, he would do so. He doesn't know what to say, though. His mind is full of thoughts of confessing his love to her, of admitting his desire, and all the words that he can think of are words that he knows he shouldn't and can't utter.

Part 03 - Samantha

Cool? Would it really be so cool to see a woman like me naked?

Her heart races within her breast, her cheeks aflame whilst her pussy feels as if it could dissolve into a puddle of cum if he so much as looks at her in the right way. She clutches at her blanket a bit tighter, wondering what he would do if she let it drop; aware that their conversation has entered into a previously uncharted area. Should she proceed? Should she hint at what she wants, at what she is so desperately eager to do for him? Should she tell him that she would willingly do anything that he desired, no matter how perverted he might think it? She swoons at the thought, looking up at him in a daze as she struggles to draw breath, sensing that her last words have placed him into some kind of internal turmoil.

Oh!

She almost giggles; her tension suddenly relieved, her confidence lifted by the sight of his blanket tented obscenely in her direction. She's satisfied. Their relationship hasn't progressed and there's still the possibility that he might find an incestuous affair repulsive, but she feels in her heart that he will accept her. That they could find happiness together. There's no need to rush. She'll flirt with him a bit - perhaps show him her tits again, perhaps just do something a bit naughty. Will take the time to explain herself to him before offering herself to him, and then, God willing, she will thank him when he slides his cock all the way into her.

"But, um, Mom... I think -"

"Tim."

She interrupts him firmly as he starts to speak. Sees a look of surprise on his face at what is the first time in years that either of them has interrupted the other deliberately. "I'm so thankful that you're my son, and... I love you more than anything else in the world so... So I want to tell you some things... Some things that you don't know about me..." she pauses, keeping her gaze upon his expression of surprise and curiosity, fighting the urge to look down at the erection that he has so clearly forgotten, "But first... Am I the only one who is starving?"

"No way, Mom!" he laughs then, the surprise disappearing from his face, "I'll get a quick shower then grab some food for both of us if you want."

"Thank you." she smiles at his response, watching him leave; watching him disappear into the bathroom. No. She runs after him suddenly. Pushes her hand against the door before he can close it, then looks in at him mischievously. What does she want to do? She's not sure, but she doesn't want to let him leave her sight; and for all the patience that she felt just moments ago, she knows with equal certainty that she wants to do something.

"What Mom?"

She giggles at his look of surprise, wondering if he thinks that she's acting oddly, wondering what he would think if he learnt that seeing him naked was the cause. Would he be shocked and disgusted? Somehow she knows that he would be happy, that at long last she had found the one man who will never betray her. The man who with a little bit of coaching might one day take up the role of master that his father had long since left. She looks down shyly at the thought, wondering how he would choose to use her, and then she almost giggles again at the sight of his manhood stood to attention beneath the blanket. Might she touch it? Might he show it to her once more? She wants to kneel before him then push aside the cloth that hides it, and then to take his cock between her lips and let him watch her worship him.

Oh God, Tim, I know I'm being so naughty but I wish that I could look under that blanket now!

"Was it really okay for you to see me naked just because we're adults, Tim?" she grins wickedly then, delighted by the little fantasy that plays within her head. Wanting to feel his hands in her hair as she sucks on his cock. Wanting to hear his gasps and moans of pleasure as he blasts every millilitre of his youthful cum into her eager mouth.

"Uh, well, I guess... I mean..."

"Then we can use the bathroom together to save time, can't we?" she asks the question shyly, feeling her heart pound in fear and excitement, certain that he will agree but unable to avoid the knowledge that what she is offering is wrong. That her head has no reason to believe that he desires her at anything other than the most primitive of levels, that only the pounding of her heart tells her that he will accept her as she longs to accept him. "We're both adults, Tim, and it's not as if you haven't seen my tits already so..." she finishes in a whisper, desperate for him to agree, desperate for him to confirm that her heart hadn't misjudged him.

"Sure, Mom." his voice sounds a little strained, as if he wants to say something else, "But, uh, I... I can't help some things, so you wouldn't be offended if I, um, got hard, would you? It's just that I, well, I've dated quite a few women like you, so..."

What do you mean, you've dated women like me?

"I didn't know that!" she blinks at the revelation, excited by its possibilities as a good omen but even more excited by the thought of getting to know a hidden side to him, "How were they like me, Tim? Were they old fogeys as well?" she grins, wanting to know more about her son's mysterious dates, wanting to know if he has shagged them, if he has thought of her as he did so. He laughs at her question, though, reaching out to touch her hair, and she feels an electric shock run through her body at his touch, at the gentleness with which he replies.

"You're not an old fogey, Mom." he smiles down at her, his eyes gazing at her with such an intensity and gentleness that she feels herself go weak at her knees, "And they were like you because they were all kind, gentle and gorgeous milfs."

"Thank you, Tim, but what on Earth is a -"

A Mom I'd Love to Fuck! He's just called me a Mom he'd love to fuck!

"Tim!" she squeals, shocked at his words but delighted by the thought of being his "milf", "I can't believe that you would be so rude!" he steps back at that, laughing, and then she giggles once more, blushing, following him into the bathroom before shutting the door behind herself.

"But what makes me a milf? Please tell me, Tim." she looks down, thinking that she might reach the penultimate stage in her dream far sooner than she had expected, that she might have to thank him for fucking her before explaining the conditions of her love.

"Everything, Mom." he replies quietly then, his expression more vulnerable than she has ever seen it before, "You're kind and gentle... You've got a beautiful face and a lovely body, your tit-, your breasts are..." she swallowed at his words, seeing a flush of colour tint his cheeks, feeling what she knows must be a flood of scarlet upon her own.

"What about my tits? I want to know what you think, Tim."

She sees him swallow at her question. Feels a little trickle of pussy-juice start its way down her thigh and swallows herself.

There'sno way we're not going to end up fucking! I can't believe I waited so long!

"They're beautiful as well, Mom. I... I've loved them ever since that time I saw you in the changing room, and I've always wanted to find a lady with tits as beautiful as yours."

The changing room? I... Ah... Oh my God, he's fancied them since back then?! What was he then, 9 or 10? He's spent about half of his life lusting over my tits...

She feels dizzy. She remembers how she had had to change in the men's changing rooms one day after the pool had closed. How she had turned around to find him staring at her naked body in obvious shock and fascination, his cute face as red as a beetroot. Had her tits really seemed so beautiful, and did he really think that they were just as beautiful now? She leans back against the door, suddenly aware of how small the bathroom is. Of her son's proximity. Of the walls and furnishings that they could use for support should he agree to fuck her. She wants to hug him, to mount him, to cry into his chest that he was an idiot for waiting so long to tell her of his secret fascination. To feed her tits to his eager mouth and to feel his cock pushing up into her womb as she did so.

She wanted to call him "Master" as he squirts his cum into or over or across her.

"I... I don't just fancy your tits, Mom..." she looks up at the sound of his voice, noticing the increased anxiety, realizing that he must be as worried about her reaction as she had been about his, knowing that he has decided to confess his feelings no matter what. She wants to help him, to tell him that he needn't worry, but she is too shell-shocked by his admission to say anything. Can only think of how much she wanted him, and of how she doesn't want their first fuck to begin with a "let's shag now".

"Your whole body has always been perfect to me. You're just perfect... You looks so graceful, your arse looks firm but soft, your... Your bush is trimmed so neatly... I tried to find a woman who looked just like you, Mom, but in the end the ones who did weren't nice enough as women, and the ones who were almost as kind and as gentle as you were just too different! I just couldn't find anyone as wonderful as you..." he stops, his voice trailing off, and she looks up once more, torn between her desire to encourage him and her desire to rip off his blanket and fuck him then and there. He returns her gaze uncertainly, obviously nervous, obviously aware that he has made his incestuous desire as plain as day. That she has said so little in return.

"I'm a lot older than I was then, Tim." she looks down at her breasts, at the blanket that she has somehow managed to keep up above them, "So I don't know if you'll like my body as much now..."

"I do!" he interrupted her for the first time in years, "I... I looked at you for so long this morning... I'm sorry, but I couldn't help it... You're even more beautiful that I remembered."

"Oh God, thank you Tim..." she finds it hard to speak, feels as if all she can do is drop the blanket and frig herself as she begs him to fuck her. As if she is entering a whole new world of happiness and desire, "I have to let you know a secret, though." she straightens up then, preparing herself mentally to bare herself in front of her son for the last time before they fuck.

"You don't have to, Mom..."

"I do." she takes a step towards him, "But if you still like me..." she lowers the blanket slowly, feeling like a virgin once again, smiling shyly at the astonishment and wonder upon her son's face as she bares her breasts before him, "Then I wonder if..." she swallows, thinking that her throat hadn't been as dry at her wedding, knowing that this time she has found the man she can spend her life with, that with just a little prompting he will try his best to become the Master that she craves. "If you don't mind spending your life with me... And I wonder if you could... If we could make love for the first time right now?"

She lets the towel drop to the ground, momentarily going to cover her panty-mound with her hands then blushing, spreading her legs and letting her arms hang by her side; shamefully aware that her nipples are just as hard as his cock, and that trickles of pussy-juice run down her thighs.

Part 04 - Samantha & Timothy

"Oh fuck!..You're so beautiful!"

His mother stands naked before him, her eyes shining, her cheeks flushed pink, her jutting breasts rising and falling with every breath; a little string of pussy-juice stretching slowly downward from her just-barely visible pussy-lips. He swallows, aware that his heart is racing, that his cock is throbbing; that, a little embarrassingly, even without touching her he has that "ready to fill up" feeling which means that he is going to cum a lot sooner rather than later.

"You're gorgeous, Mom!"

He whispers again, unable to move towards the woman that he adores, once again uncertain that he isn't living some kind of dream. His blanket falling unnoticed to his feet, his cock springing upward slightly so that the engorged knob aims straight for the tits whose shape and form and owner he has desired for so long.

"I can't believe how gorgeous you are, Mom! I can't believe how lucky I am."

"Oh God, I'm the lucky one, Tim!"

She giggles at her son's words, grinning at the sight of his cock, at the drops of moisture already dribbling down the long shaft.

"You're so handsome, Tim."

She takes a step toward him, her hands reaching for his face, touching his hair. She'd seen a hint of it earlier that morning, had realized that she truly found him attractive physically as well as mentally, but now, in the cold light of the small bathroom, she realized that there was nothing about him that she would change. That the sight of his young body turned her on as no other man's had ever done before.

"I've wanted you for years as well, Tim... I fell in love with you so, so long ago, but I fought it as hard as I could. I can't believe... I can't believe that this day could finally come!" she starts to cry as his hands cup her face, tears trickling down her delicate cheeks. "Oh God, I'm so silly, but I want you so much, Tim!"

"I want you too, Mom! Oh, I want you so much! I want to make love with you forever!" he laughs with her, bowing his head to kiss away her tears, hugging her as she hugs him, shuddering as his hard, wet cock slides against the smooth skin of her belly. Catching his breath as her breasts balloon defiantly between them - refusing to be squashed. She mounts his thigh, crushing her wet pussy against him, moving her own thigh against his balls as his lips pushed against hers. Blushes as she feels his tongue touch her lips. She gazes into his eyes for a moment, and then she opens her mouth as well, shutting her eyes as their tongues touch gently, her hands caressing his strong back as he strokes her soft hair.

The sounds of kisses. The sound of a mother and son's small sighs and gasps of pleasure, fill the small room as they drown in each other. They declare their love between kisses, Samantha's eyes filled with tears of happiness as she sucks on her son's tongue, Timothy's hands shaking slightly with passion as he moves them to caress her tits, to fondle her rigidly erect nipples; to run slowly up and down the curves of her body from shoulder down to the underneath of her buttocks.

"Oh, Tim..."

She gasps at his touch, moving her own hands down to caress his sides, eager to touch his rock-hard cock yet strangely hesitant to do so; momentarily scared that if she did so then she would awake into a world where he no longer loved her as a mother or a woman. She blushes, embarrassed by how silly the thought is, knowing in her heart that he will never leave or betray her, shuddering at how skilfully he caresses and tweaks her nipples. Remembering the last time he had touched her breasts as a baby, and wondering as she watches him lower his head, if his tongue will give her the same feelings of guilty pleasure that it had way back then.

Oh God, that'sso much better!

A thought kept unspoken, only hinted at by the gasp and the shudder with which she greets the touch of his kiss upon her left nipple. His tongue traces circles around the hard bud, his face flushed as he looks up at her, his hips making little thrusting movements so that his hot, leaking shaft rubs slickly against her belly.