Rights and Wrongs Ch. 01

My mind swam back more than a dozen years, to days with Ben's father when I last found myself in such a state of the deepest arousal. I remembered a hundred times when we had played one silly game or another and where I had come close to being seen in various states of undress, or even during climax. I shuddered and looked frantically at the reflection of my shocked face, yanking my hand away from my wetness, letting the skirt cover the evidence of my passion. I pulled the two halves of my blouse together, holding them closed across my tingling breasts.

Then I let them go as my mind switched off most of its logic circuits. I tucked the hem of the blouse a little deeper under my waistband, making the view of bared flesh just a little less obvious, then picked up my phone. I didn't let myself think as I turned and opened the door, saying to the dial tone 'Okay, I'll see you then'. I crossed to the top of the stairs and started to make my way down.

*****

I heard Ben's voice before he had even seen me, seen my brazen, thoroughly unnatural (surely?) exposure.

"How was aunt Stephie?"

"She's just fine," I managed, my voice remarkably calm even as I walked straight into the kitchen, never once allowing myself to think properly.

"Oh, that's gr... um, great!"

"You know my sister, always great," I said, almost sauntering back to my stool, demolishing half a pizza slice before I had even got properly seated. "She wanted to know if you were happy enough, as well."

Ben swallowed hard, either the last of his pizza, or the last of his disbelief, "Oh, yeah, I'm just perfect."

"Well that's good then. Better than good, I guess. Anything wrong?"

Ben was staring again, "Fu... nothing, ma, nothing."

I was losing control and put the remains of the pizza back on my plate, "No swearing, young man. And now tell the truth, what's wrong? What's got you so edgy"

Ben's mouth opened and closed a few times and I could see that he was deliberating as to whether he dare state the truth, at least about my supposedly errant blouse, and risk never seeing me like it ever again. I coughed and sought out his eyes. "Ben?"

"M-ma?"

"Son, I know."

His eyebrows rose and I could see fear enter his gaze, "Know... know what?"

It was without a doubt the most blatant, deliberate sexual moment of my life up until then. I lifted my hands from where they sat gathered on my skirt, touched the edges of my open blouse, my eyes locked on my son's, "I know that you have enjoyed the loose buttons."

"But, ma–"

"It's okay," I tried to smile, "It's a real surprise, but I can understand, you know?"

A frown creased my boy's otherwise youthful brow, "I don't... don't–"

A sudden moment of panic sizzled through my already fiery mind, "You don't think I'm not too ancient and awful looking, do you? I mean, is the view too bad?"

"Oh jeez, ma! I mean no!" His eyes rolled for a moment before he said words that almost drenched my thighs, "Ma, mum, I didn't mean to look but... jeez, I couldn't help it! You're, like, so hot!"

"You didn't think to tell me my blouse had come open?" Guess what answer I wanted?

"Well, I mean I know I should've, but, oh jeez, ma, have you any idea how hot you look that way?"

I got it.

Ben rattled on, nervous but now clearly thinking that if he's come this far then he might as well tell all of the truth. Bonus. "I'm sorry, ma, if it's so wrong to you, but... but for me it's like 'wow', and... and... if it's, like, so totally wrong for me to say it, then, well, I'll move out early and we can just–"

"No!" The right answer, another bonus, but then everything was in danger of unravelling. I could see that he was already thinking he was in this far so he might as well come clean, but that left me to do the same. Goodbye logic circuits entirely. "Ben, it's... look. It's okay!"

"It's what?"

"It's okay. I mean it. I don't know what to say really, but I can't admit even to myself you're wrong in any way. And..." The logic circuits were trying desperately to kick back in. But failed. "And I have to say that shock or no shock, it's a bit of a thrill for me. More than a bit. But, Ben, other than a lucky view, a lucky accident, why does it get you so worked up? Tell me the truth now."

Ben stopped and stared at me. Stared into my eyes in a way he seldom did, his eyes so deep and serious. I think maybe his own logic circuits had burned out. "Ma... I mean it, you're so hot... Look, I admit it, okay? I've been looking at you for, like, years and... and you're so hot. Always have been for me."

"Yeah, right," my heart was pounding loud enough to wake our deaf old neighbour, "but what about all those pretty young things you've been out with these last few years?"

He shrugged, "They're available and you never have been, never could be."

"That's got to be pure, unadulterated bull."

"No!" I had been about to continue but he interrupted me, "Ma, have you... don't you realise how good you look? Especially to me."

There was an intensity to his look that took me by surprise – as if I hadn't already been shocked enough that day, "But why? I'm nearly forty, Ben!"

"For a start, you don't look nearly that old, ma, and anyway, I've always thought you were, like, real pretty but... fuck it, ma – sorry, didn't mean to swear – but, ma, it was like four years back or something and I saw you in that real flimsy bra and knickers set you were going to wear under some outfit or something and I dashed out of your room when you walked in and, like, I was all apologies later but... but, ma, I couldn't get this feeling out of my head, yeah? You got me so excited and ever since... well, I keep looking and hoping and... I never seen more than... I mean it's never been much and then today," his eyes dropped to my partially bared breasts and my heart rate hit four figures, "today I saw you like this, and I just couldn't take my eyes off you when I thought you weren't looking, didn't realise your top was open. I know I should have said something, know I've been being so bad thinking these things!"

"I don't," I managed to say.

"What?"

"I don't think you've been wrong today if that's how you've truly felt all this time."

"Ma, you have to be joking me!"

I shook my head, as much to quieten any rogue logic circuits as to clear my thoughts. "No jokes. I never realised. Anything. Never realised how you felt." I paused, remembering the night when he'd been in my room when I'd walked in wearing nothing but the skimpiest of under-things. For almost half a decade I thought I'd either scared or embarrassed him close to rigor mortis and I had been so extra-careful to stay well covered around him ever since. Perhaps I had some catching up to do... "If... if you're serious, Ben, if you really think those things...."

"Ma?"

"Tell me, do you really mean what you're saying?"

His eyes dropped to my barely covered breasts again and he nodded, almost furiously, "Jeez, ma, yes!"

"Promise me one thing then."

"Anything!"

"Promise me," I said, not really believing what I was saying, "that you will never, ever tell anyone about what we've just said, and what we'll say next."

"Ma, I promise. And if it helps you believe me, your top's still undone and I'll give a thousand promises if it burns up time so you stay that way!"

I laughed, genuine delight bubbling up at my son's candour and his naivety. "What if I said that I love that you're looking? Me mad at you? No. I do love it. I never had any idea I ever could – any mother could – but... but I love what you've just said and I love your reaction to me. I know it's bad of me but that's the way it is. And it's why my blouse is unbuttoned right now."

"Do you mean..."

"I mean I'm standing here quite deliberately. And if you need any further proof... I won't stop you if you ask me to take it off completely."

His eyes widened but if I'd expected any further reticence then I'd got that very wrong indeed, "Oh, ma, yes! I mean please. Oh fuck – sorry – Oh jeez yes please!"

I pulled the tails of the blouse out of my skirt, still staring deep into my boy's eyes. With fingers that shook rather than trembled I flipped open the lowest button. "Really sure?"

He nodded faster than I thought a human head could move, "Sure as anything!"

*****

A part of me thought that I was at the extreme end of the possibilities of behaviour that could be possible. Even as I slid the blouse down my arms and let it fall to the floor, as I stood there in my son's eager gaze, I still thought that I had reached the end of a mythical rainbow that I had never realised even existed. I was topless, naked to his stare, my breasts totally exposed – and I was loving the tremors of arousal that coursed through me. I smiled with a quiet but deep delight.

Then Ben reached forward and grabbed my hand.

If I'd thought that I was aroused before, if I'd imagined that I had crossed as far as possible into forbidden territory – and was loving it – that clasp of my hand told me I was so very wrong. And that I was now into a completely different, wilder, and even more arousing landscape.

If exposing yourself to your son was acceptable under these circumstances then what else was?

I lifted Ben's shaking hand with my own trembling one and rested it on my shoulder. I shrugged at him, not trusting myself to say the words that were orbiting my brain – we're come this far, so... - "Times seem to be changing," I managed.

He nodded back and his hand slipped a few inches down my arm.

I didn't move a muscle, except a few deep inside my belly.

His hand slipped onto the front surface of my arm so that it was almost brushing my left breast.

"You know," I whispered, "I really should stop you now?"

He nodded again. And still I didn't move.

With a sound that I can only call a whimper, Ben's hand slid across to my naked breast and he – my son – cupped my nakedness. Who knows who groaned loudest?

"Oh, Ma, you're..." he gave the gentlest squeeze, "gorgeous!"

"Even these tired old things?"

His squeeze was firmer now, a caress, and he raised his other hand to my nakedness, "Oh yes. Your br... boobs are so firm still, so, so, gorgeous!!"

"My tits," I said, "I prefer that word when things get... non-medical. Get a little sexual, even."

"Your tits," he nodded, caressing them so that my hard nipples pressed so firmly into his open palms. "I love them!"

"Kiss them then."

"What?"

"Ben, I haven't felt your mouth there for so many, many years. I want it there now!" And I did. So very, very much.

He dropped his head lower and within a second his lips parted around my left nipple. The touch was electric and electrifying and I gasped, managing to say 'yes' loudly enough that he wasn't scared enough to stop.

There was no way I could control my reactions, no way I could stem the wave or pure arousal that coursed through me. I let my hands slither down my bare stomach and press against my hot womanhood through my skirt. I felt a flash of horror when I realised that the climax I had felt so close earlier was now unstoppable and would arrive at any second. The flash fizzled out at the feel of my hands and Ben's mouth suckling – sucking – at my naked tit.

"Oh, Ben, oh yes!"

There was a momentary pause in his mouthing as he must have glanced up at me to ensure I wasn't trying to stop things but as my belly started to twitch in ecstasy he redoubled the deep sucking , his mouth even switching from left to right nipple.

The first true pulse of climax shuddered through me, turning my knees weak, bringing an odd mewling noise from my throat, "Oh my Ben, my boy! Oh yes, yes, yes, yes!"

I'd known all along that I was due a particularly powerful orgasm but this was mind-numbingly intense. As my Ben's mouth sucked and hands squeezed I yowled and twitched and shook. My yelps of affirmation, the repeated cries of 'yes' and the growling, delighted groans and moans grew louder and freer. I told my son – wailed at him in pleasure – that he was making me climax, making me cum, that he shouldn't stop, that I loved and adored him. And I cum and cum, my belly jerking and dancing with wave after wave of the sort of intense joy that I had never before felt.

For some seconds – maybe a minute or more – I totally lost my mind to the waves of pleasure.

I gasped my way back to full awareness and total acknowledgement, replete with a delight that I found close to beyond comprehension and yet so fully real – and knew that I was, for the moment, that night, experiencing a new circumstance, and one in which I was but a part. I pulled Ben's head level with my own and stared into his eyes, my own, I'm sure, still wild with desire. I licked my lips, cocking my head to one side. An offer.

Ben's lips, fresh from my breasts, closed on my own and, yes, I kissed him. He was tentative at first, scarcely able to believe the contact we now shared. And then I felt the tip of his tongue press forward and I let my mouth relax, let that tongue gain entrance, met its trembling thrust with the wetness of my own eager tongue. By the second he relaxed and yet became more urgent, more thrusting. My mouth opened wider and I let him fully kiss me, let his tongue wrestle passionately with my own.

I knew, of course, that I had climaxed so hard, and knew also, that I was nothing if not fair. I pulled him close, feeling the heat and hardness of his erect cock as it met the tops of my thighs. He began to grind against me and I leant back, encouraging his passion, cupping his firm, flexing butt cheeks, holding him tight against me.

My son's hands pawed at my breasts as his kiss deepened, his tongue pressing further into my willing mouth and his hardness pushing against the spreading wetness of my uppermost thighs.

I felt his whole body jerk and twitch even as he mewled deep into my mouth and I managed to nod my head, encouraging his passions. With a final, hard thrust against me I knew that he was climaxing, that I had helped my boy to cum.

Gasping, we broke the kiss and leaned a little apart, eyes – full of shock and joy – locked.

I smiled. "I needed that!"

There was a pause. And then we laughed – at the same time.

*****

Somehow we managed to wander into the living room and sat beside each other on the sofa, the atmosphere surreal and yet relaxed. I was still topless and Ben was still stealing welcome looks at my bared breasts.

"Am I still not too weird?" I asked him.

"Still beyond gorgeous, more like."

"Any idea what happens next?"

Ben shook his head.

"No idea at all?"

Another shake.

I pursed my lips and shrugged. "Me neither. That wasn't exactly planned, you know?"

"I figured, ma. But..."

"But?"

"I don't know how to say it."

I wasn't sure I knew what he was trying to say although I had an idea. I just didn't know how I was going to reply. Could I ever let something like that happen again? "Try me."

"Ma, that was like a dream come true. But... but...."

"Oh, Ben, say anything, ask anything. It's not like there's anything that we could hardly hide from each other now, is there?"

"I guess not... Ma, it's about 'next'."

I nodded, "Makes sense."

"Can I..."

"Out with it, because the answer's probably 'yes'." See? I knew he'd want a repeat...

"Can I see your legs, you with your skirt off?"

I sat forward, shocked for about the twentieth time that day. As his words sunk in, I was shocked to discover that he had hit the 'arouse her' spot yet again. "Ben!"

"Sorry, sorry, I was just getting carried away."

I stood up and faced him, "Carried away? You can say that again!"

As his face fell into an expression of the deepest remorse I switched off any lingering logic circuits. "I'm not sure how the hell you're doing this, but..." I fumbled with the zipper of my skirt, undoing it, and then fumbled more to release the button that was all that was now holding it up. It fell to the floor. "But, carried away seems to be working for both of us."

My son's eyes almost popped out of his head as he stared up at me, drop his eyes and stared almost level with my white panties – soaked white panties. "Carried away," he nodded.

"Any more requests?" I was vibrating.

"I... I..."

"Very erudite. Does 'I... I...' mean you still think I'm overdressed?"

"Y... yes?"

Ben's uncertainty destroyed the last vestiges of restraint that might – might, note – have remained over my sense of normalcy. "Well," I said, "I guess it's an odd day." I slipped my fingers under the waistband of that drenched garment and pulled it down to my ankles, slipping my feet free to stand before my son. "Better?"

"Oh fuck yes!"

"No apology for the swearing this time?"

He shook his head. "You trim it. It's beautiful. You're totally beautiful."

Something exploded deep inside me. "Thank you. But I'm naked." I said, "You're not. And you still haven't apologised for swearing."

As Ben rose to his feet just a few inches away from me I knew I could still stop things. And I knew I wouldn't. He stripped in lightning time and I was finally rewarded with the sight of him pulling down his boxers, his – my son's – engorged cock springing free.

"Ma," he managed, "I can't apologise for swearing. You are too fucking gorgeous."

I choked a laugh, shocked by everything, aroused by it all, "And?"

He touched me, one hand on my shoulder, and I felt more naked, more alive, than I ever had before. It was all so very wrong and yet all so very right. I laid my hand on his and smiled.

Hunger was evident in every look, every tiny gesture. There was no movement for a few seconds as tensions rose and rose. And then the wave of emotion broke for both of us, the last restraints snapping. Ben's hand tightened on my shoulder and he started to pull me towards him. I lost all control.

I fell against him with a hunger that was so new to me, so natural and so needy. I kissed him deeply as I felt my small breasts crushed against his bare chest and then, oh then, I felt that hard cock hard against my belly, my son's balls hot against the sparse hair barely covering my pussy. His arms snaked around me, tightening his grip before he pushed as I dragged at him, my back hitting the sofa as he tumbled with me, our mouths locked, lips wildly kissing, tongues wrestling. My legs scissored wide and wrapped around his hips, and that heat, that hardness of his, pressed against my very centre.

Ben's hips lifted away from me and my mind and body traced the movement of his cock's hot tip as it slipped lower, his shaft caressing my wide open lips before his was perfectly poised, almost demanding entrance. I spread wider still, almost demanding his entry.

All of the willingness, the desire and need, never prepared me in any way for the screamingly wild sensation I felt as my Ben's cock pressed against me, as the first few millimetres of his hard cock pushed my lips apart. I could feel every tiny movement as he inexorably parted me, as he came closer and closer to full entry. With the tiniest push of his hips, the bulge of his glorious erection passed the point of no return, sliding deeper and deeper. I bucked, the motion involuntary but necessary for me, and I felt every single fraction of his member slide deep inside me. One of us, maybe both, cried out the loudest 'yes!', and I was impaled, gloriously, on my boy's hard cock.

There was a glorious pause, no movement for several seconds as our mouths parted and our blue eyes locked and smiled and acknowledged the joy of those moments.

"This is so bad," I whispered, "but so very good."

"Fucking good," Ben gasped.

"Oh yeah." I bucked hard and grabbed his butt, grinding my hips against my son's.

He started to move then, started to glide in and out of me, started to fuck me. Hard, eager.

I matched every thrust with a buck, every grasp and grunt with a moan and a groan, every kiss with a wide open mouth. His movements were desperate from the very start and mine were no less frantic – and yet somehow both of us held back from climax for the longest of times. Sweat rose on our limbs and bodies as we fucked and fucked so hard and so fast until we were slipping and sliding against each other. Pressures inside me soared until I felt Ben's body start to twitch spasmodically and I knew he was so very close to unleashing the contents of the balls that were slapping rhythmically against my thighs.