Second Thoughts

Were things moving too fast? Maybe not fast enough for Sandra, or at least not fast enough for Sandra's conscience. Last night she'd done most terrible thing, but is was probably it the most exciting thing she'd ever done too. It was unexpected and yet, after the past few weeks, inevitable.

For years now Sandra had taken an interest in her son that went well beyond what was appropriate. She'd always thought he was handsome, but this was different. At first Sandra thought it was her lousy sex life catching up to her. Her husband, Mark's father, barely showed any interest in it anymore, and Sandra's frustration over it had reached an all time high. She was masturbating now. A lot. And during the last few weeks Mark had become the focus of her fantasies. One of her favorites was about the day she'd been watched Mark play one-on-one basketball with one of his friends. The two of them were in the backyard, playing a fairly casual game, and Sandra was eyeing them from a window. Gradually, the intensity of the game grew more intense, and Sandra marveled at Mark's athletic prowess. She wasn't the only one getting hot though. At one point Mark decided to make himself more comfortable by taking off his shirt... the sight of his chiseled torso working up a sweat on the makeshift court was enough to send a an excited shiver between Sandra's thighs. When the game was over, Mark had soundly defeated his opponent. Not being able to stay for another game, his friend left for home while Mark continued shooting hoops on his own. Sandra went out to bring Mark a towel and a glass of juice, and he drank while she toweled off his back.

In her fantasy, however, things took a profoundly erotic turn. They held one another, kissing as lovers, too engrossed in their passion to be concerned about being seen by any of the neighbors. The fantasy did eventually take them indoors, however, but only because of Mark's passionate pleas that they retire to the bedroom. Of course in Sandra's fantasy Mark was a superb lover, but by this point playing it out in her mind she was usually gasping into orgasmic bliss.

The thing is, a change HAD occurred in their relationship lately. Sandra had started a subtle bit of flirting with Mark. It was all still very innocent, nothing that would've raised any eyebrows. Mark definitely enjoyed it, and even started flirting back. As time wore on, however, the flirting became less subtle. Sandra began to wonder if Mark had figured out her secret desire for him. If he had, it certainly didn't offend him; in fact she began to think he might feel the same way about her. Still, the thought of doing something about it scared Sandra too much to take any serious action. It didn't matter though, because her son had conjured up a plan of his own.

One night Mark and Sandra were home alone watching a movie he'd rented. Sandra's husband, Frank, was at one of his friend's house. Frank typically got together with his friends once a week to play cards, and usually didn't back home until around midnight. At this point, it was only 7:30, more than enough time for Mark to put his plan into action. The first thing was to "misplace" Sandra's glasses. His mother had a habit of doing that anyway, so it wasn't that unusual when her search for them came up empty. She was only slightly nearsighted, but she hated watching a blurry TV screen so, as was her custom, she curled up on the floor with a blanket to watch. This time, however, Mark surprised Sandra by curling up behind her. Sandra didn't say anything to him, just turning back with a warm smile to let Mark know it was OK with her. They began watching the movie. It was a romance, which surprised Sandra, as Mark rarely chose movies for her entertainment. Well, there was some entertainment value in the film for Mark; the female lead was a sexy brunette, and she showed quite a bit of skin during her lovemaking scenes with her man. Come to think of it, the lovemaking scenes in the movie were very risqué. Didn't Mark feel strange watching a movie like this with his Mom? Evidently not... in fact as the movie progressed he moved closer and closer to Sandra. She remained on her side watching TV, but now Mark body was pressing tightly into hers from behind. He'd even reached around with one of his arms, holding her tightly just below her bosom.

Sandra tried not to pay attention to Mark even though she could practically feel his breath on her neck. That wasn't all she could feel though - during one of the steamier love scenes she became aware of something pressing into her bottom, something very hard. Could it be? "Oh my god, it's his penis," Sandra thought in astonishment. Sandra knew she should pull away. They'd been flirting with each other for weeks but this was the first time anything physical had occurred between them. She tried to go back to watching the movie. The two leads were making love again in another torrid sex scene. Sandra could feel her own state of arousal building too; between the movie and the hard cock pressing into her ass it was difficult not to.

Sandra's face became flushed with excitement, her breathing now more labored. She knew what she wanted, it was pressing against her butt, but she didn't know what to do. She hadn't looked at Mark once during the movie, keeping her eyes focussed on the TV, but she had to summon her courage now to at least face him. Despite everything that was happening Sandra still a slight fear that Mark wasn't feeling what she was. Mark's head was only inches behind hers; when Sandra turned around to face him their faces were only a couple of inches apart. Sandra looked into Mark's eyes; no words had been exchanged between them since the movie had started, and even now Sandra was too nervous to speak. Mark looked back into her eyes, his countenance an unmistakable mixture of love and desire. Slowly he moved his head towards her, and with the smoothness of an experienced lover pressed his lips to hers. It was shocking and exciting, this act of taboo love, but above all, passionate. Sandra's passion ignited too; it'd been so long since a kiss had excited her that much, and her lips hungrily sought his for more. Sandra moved off her side into a comfortable position on her back and Mark moved on top of her. She put her arms around his neck as they kissed again and again, each kiss being more enthusiastic than the last. And then the unthinkable happened; Sandra heard the unmistakable sound of the front door opening.

Sandra pulled away from Mark as fast as she could, pushing him off her with her palms against his chest. Mark had heard the sound too, however, and practically leapt off her to a comfortable distance away. Sandra's heart was beating so hard against her chest in fear it felt like it was about to burst.

"Hi Sandy," her husband said. His face went from a smiling one into a look of concern. "What's wrong dear? You look like you've seen a ghost." Sandra's fear gripped her so tightly she could barely speak, but an instinct of self-preservation forced her to calm down and reply. Her eyes looked quickly to the TV screen; the movie was over and the credits had already scrolled near the end.

"Oh, hi Frank," Sandra replied. "No, I'm fine," she replied with a casual wave of her hand. "We were watching a horror movie and I got scared." Frank looked at Mark, give him a disapproving look.

"I don't know why you rent those movies, you know she hates them. They're all the same anyway," Frank said to Mark. "Although I must say I've never seen your mother this scared before in my life," he added with a light chuckle. "Well, if you're alright dear, I'm going to turn in." Sandra nodded back that she was fine and, satisfied, Frank turned and began climbing the stairs to their bedroom.

"By the way, how come you're home so early, it's only ten?" Sandra asked, her heart still beating in her throat.

"Oh, well, some of the boys had to leave early, so we decided to call it a night," Frank replied, sounding bored, "'Night, Sandy." Frank turned and went upstairs.

Sandra was still on the floor, but she'd pulled herself into a sitting position against the sofa. Mark was sitting on the floor too, a few yards away. For a few moments she just stared at him, saying nothing as she sat there thinking. Their front door faced the living room; if they hadn't separated so quickly Frank would've caught them kissing. If he'd come in 15 minutes later he might have caught them doing a lot more. Finally, she spoke to her son.

"Mark, do you realize what almost happened? How could we have been so stupid?" she asked, shaking her head dejectedly. Mark walked over to Sandra and sat down next to her, putting his arm around her shoulders. Sandra eyes darted up towards the stairs for a moment; Frank was nowhere in sight.

"I'm sorry we almost got caught, but that's all I'm sorry about," Mark replied, looking into her eyes. "I love you, Mom. And I want you." Sandra looked into his eyes, her lips slightly quivering in fear. If there was any stopping to what they'd started, now was the time to do it. For a few moments she just sat there, hesitating to reply.

"I want you too," Sandra admitted finally. Part of her wanted to lie, to say whatever it took to convince Mark she'd didn't feel the same way, but as wrong as it was for Sandra to speak those words the pain of denying her feelings for him now was too much for her to bear. Saying the words may have been morally wrong but, nonetheless, doing so was like lifting a tremendous weight off her shoulders.

"Dad's going on that fishing trip tomorrow, isn't he?" Mark asked. Actually, Frank was leaving town on business for a day, but there was a friend along the way he always visited on the way back. The two of them usually went fishing for a day or so before Frank headed back home.

"I'll make dinner for us tomorrow," Sandra said, her voice still a bit nervous. Mark was working a summer job until college started in the fall, but he was usually home for dinner.

"I can't wait," he smiled.

* * * * *

The next morning, Frank and Mark both left around 8 o'clock, leaving Sandra alone. Sandra decided to make lasagna for dinner, but she needed a few ingredients, so she went to the local supermarket. She busied her mind with her shopping, trying to push out all other thoughts. Second thoughts. Was she really going through with this? Did she really want this? What about Mark? This was such a big step, a bigger one then either of them had ever taken in their lives. How could Sandra be sure it wasn't going to destroy them, destroy Mark. He wasn't just some guy; he was her son. She loved him more than anything. Sandra focussed her mind back on her grocery shopping, not wanting to think about it. She'd picked all the items from her shopping list, but if she was really going to do this, there was one more item to buy.

Sandra drove her shopping cart over a few isles and stopped in front of the condom section. She had birth control pills at home, but she'd stopped taking them as Frank had barely touched her in months. It was too risky for her to not be using them. Sandra browsed the section till she found a pack she liked, then pushed her cart to the nearest checkout stand. She unloaded her groceries for the cashier, trying to place the condoms where no one else could see them. The cashier was a woman in her mid 40s and the talkative type, but Sandra felt too unnerved to speak. She quietly prayed to herself that their conversation would be held to the bare minimum. When the cashier rang in the condoms she couldn't help but flash Sandra a knowing smile.

"They're for my son," Sandra tried to explain, her voice obviously nervous. "Damn," she thought, "I shouldn't have said anything at all."

"I think that's great," the cashier replied with a friendly smile. "Some people may be old fashioned about that sort of thing, but I don't agree. They're going to do it anyway; you might as well teach 'em right." Sandra shot the cashier a look of surprise, and the woman looked back at her with a perplexed look. Saying nothing, Sandra paid for her groceries and went home.

Sandra had lunch when she got home, then busied herself preparing dinner. She had a nice salad prepared and had bought a cake for desert. The lasagna was prepared and sitting in the refrigerator until it was time to put it in the oven. Sandra checked her watch. It was 3 o'clock; three hours until Mark would be home. Sandra went to take a bath. She loved her baths; Sandra had some scented bath oils Frank had bought her for Christmas. She poured some into her bath and settled in. She loved the way the oils softened the water; it practically made every bath a sensual experience. Sandra did notice, however, that she could use a little "trim," and quickly set out to rectifying the problem. When she finished her bath, Sandra got a big, fluffy towel and dried herself off. Her eyes happened to catch her image in the bathroom mirror, and for a few moments Sandra gazed at her reflection. Even at 40 she still had a luscious figure most men found attractive, but for the first time in a while she began feeling self-conscious about her appearance. Her dried up sex life with her husband had played some terrible tricks with Sandra's ego; it had taken her a while to accept that she hadn't lost her sex appeal. But now that she was going to sleep with the first man other than her husband in over 20 years, it was hard not feel some trepidation about her appearance. Finally, Sandra walked away from the mirror, shaking her head, almost laughing out loud. Of all the reasons to have second thoughts...

Sandra fixed hair and, being pleased with the results, decided to do her makeup. She never wore makeup at home, but she enjoyed getting "dolled up" sometimes. To finish her preparations, Sandra picked out a black cocktail dress to wear. It flattered her figure and showed just enough to be sexy without going too far. One last thing to do before going back to the kitchen. Sandra went to her bedroom. She wasn't sure where they'd go, and Sandra considered telling Mark they couldn't use her bed, but Mark's bed was barely big enough for him. Maybe she could bring a blanket downstairs and they could stay in the living room. It wouldn't be that unusual; Mark slept on the floor there sometimes when the temperature got too hot. Just to be on the safe side, Sandra put a fresh set of linens on the bed. There were several mementos of her marriage in the room, pictures, etc. Sandra put them away; she'd never cheated on her husband before and she still wasn't sure she could now. Doing it with those things in the room was probably asking too much at this point. Finally, Sandra finished preparing the room, and took a few of the condoms with her downstairs to put in a desk drawer in the living room. She left the rest in a dresser drawer by her bed. Feeling everything was ready, Sandra went down to the kitchen to finish preparing their meal.

At around 5:30, Mark was home. "You're early," Sandra said, somewhat surprised.

"Guess why," Mark replied, taking Sandra in her arms and kissing her deeply. Sandra pulled away from him, though she gave him a bit of a frisky smile.

"Now, now. Dinner's almost ready," she said. Sandra felt strange to be lapsing back into her motherly tone with Mark now, but she continued: "Go get yourself cleaned up, Mark, and then come set the table." Mark nodded to her then went upstairs. When he came back down, Sandra was surprised to see Mark wearing a white shirt, tie, and a black pantsuit. The thin blue stripes on the shirt and tie brought out the color of his eyes; Sandra always thought Mark looked so handsome when he wore them.

"Oh my," Sandra said, startled.

"Well, I saw how you got all dressed up and all, and well, sorry for being kinda of pig before... by the way, you look beautiful," Mark said sheepishly. "I don't want to ruin anything for you."

"That's OK," Sandra replied reassuringly. "You didn't 'ruin' anything. Just slow down a little. Women like to take things slow. We have all weekend... C'mon, dinner's ready. I already set the table."

"Oh, I was supposed to do that... sorry!" Mark said.

"Don't worry, and stop with all the sorry's," Sandra said. "Besides, you were busy getting your self all handsome." They went to the table and ate dinner, and then Mark put the leftovers away as Sandra loaded the dishwasher. All the while, their conversation remained casual, Mark talking about school, Sandra about projects she was working on at home. Sandra noted that it wasn't all that different than many of the other dinners they'd shared. The only thing Sandra could tell was different was that several times during dinner Mark became too lost in his own thoughts to listen. That was unlike her son, but she didn't have to ask why. In fact, Sandra was having the same problem herself tonight. Sandra could also tell that her comment to Mark about "women liking to take it slow" had taken the edge off the boldness he'd demonstrated earlier. She was happy to see him respecting her wishes, but it was becoming apparent that if anything were to happen tonight she would have to take the initiative. After they finished cleaning up, Sandra went into the living room and sat down on the couch. Mark had followed her into the room, but remained standing.

"Come, sit," Sandra said with a disarming smile, patting the cushion next to her. Mark sat down, once again saying and doing nothing.

"I always loved that shirt and tie on you, honey," Sandra said. "Did you wear that just for me?"

"Yeah," Mark replied. "You always said the blue went good with my eyes."

"I meant it," she smiled. "You look very manly when you get dressed up."

"Thanks," Mark replied, blushing slightly. "I love it when you wear that dress. It's one of my favorites."

"Thanks," Sandra replied. "I feel sexy when I wear this dress. And I wanted to feel sexy tonight."

Sandra put her hand on Mark's arm. "Do you know what would really make me feel sexy though?" Mark shook his head 'no.'

Sandra put her hand under Mark's chin and said, "If you kissed me like you did last night." And with that Sandra pressed her lips fully into his. Mark's kissed her back, the passion of his desire for her coming to the surface once more. For the next while, they embraced, kissing and caressing each other. Sandra had her arms around Mark's back, feeling his taut muscles, while he'd managed to sneak one of his hands to between them to massage one of her breasts. Mark softly pushed his mother back so she could lay on the couch, then began kissing her neck and sucking on her earlobes. All the while he kept up with the ministrations to her supple breasts.

"Oh, yes," she softly moaned, pulling his head farther down so he could kiss the exposed part of her cleavage. Sandra wasn't wearing a bra and, with a little coaxing, Mark managed to free one of her breasts for his hungry mouth to taste. Sandra groaned loudly now, her back involuntarily arching to help Mark as he alternated between swirling his tongue around the areola and sucking her hard nipple in his hot mouth. The feeling was so good she was able to block out the cramped quarters they were sharing on the couch. Nevertheless, a change in scenery was necessary for what Sandra had in mind now. She carefully pushed Mark away and got to her feet.

"Let's go upstairs," She said to Mark, with a warm but nevertheless uneasy smile. Mark said nothing, but his face spoke volumes. He was nervous too, but excited. Sandra took his hand in hers and together they climbed the steps, her hand leading his. Sandra opened the door to her bedroom and took Mark to the foot of her bed. She'd left a window open, and a cool breeze had filled the room with clean air and had given the sheets a fresh crispness to them. She left Mark for a moment to close the window; no need to let the neighbors hear what she was up to. Sandra turned back to face Mark. He still looked anxious, but the look of trepidation was even stronger in his face now. She had a feeling she had just the cure. Sandra walked over to Mark, embracing him, and pressed her hot lips firmly into his. Taking his hands in hers, she sat him on the foot of her bed. She then straddled his hips with her legs, reaching forward to unbutton his shirt. She could see his excitement rising again, and his hands went to remove his tie.