The Price

I stepped out of my bedroom just as he came out of the shower room. He had a towel wrapped round his middle, but the body I saw was a delight to my maternal eyes. "Dear God, I helped to make that beautiful male body," so lithe and muscular and through no action of mine, lightly tanned. I went thoughtfully to take my own shower.

"Good morning mother dear," he said as he passed me. "Good morning son," I replied, once more adding a mental note, "My love."

Over breakfast we planned what we should do that day. He agreed to a suggestion from me that we should drive up to look at the house where I had lived with Pyotr.

We drove up into the mountains and when he saw the house he was astounded.

"Mother, you actually lived there? It's magnificent; I feel very jealous that I didn't share it with you."

We both went silent for a few minutes; he realising he might have made a faux pas, and I wishing he had shared it with me.

Since I had sold the place we did not seek to go inside but went on to the nearby village and ate lunch in the tavern. We passed a couple of hours over the meal and talking with the locals, who told us that some of the ski slopes were still in use although we were well into spring. We resolved to go up there and do some skiing.

I was surprised at how well Noel spoke the language and when I questioned him on this he said rather shyly, "Well, when I found out you were here and I decided that one day I'd come to see you, I also decided to learn what I could of the language. There was a guy at school who came from here, so he and his parents helped." He grinned, "After all, you might have forgotten how to speak English."

"You cheeky boy," I retorted, "I speak six languages and several dialects; I've travelled over most of this world, so a bit more respect for your mother."

"Do you really speak that many languages?"

"Yes, I worked as a translator for a while, that's how I met Pyotr."

"Lucky Pyotr."

"Lucky me, you mean."

"Was he a good man...I mean, to you?"

"Yes, he was a good man and he loved me very much. You know a lot of those people who go around the world on business or to represent their government, like Pyotr, can't stay away from the local women. Pyotr was never unfaithful and always took me with him."

Noel grinned; "I don't blame him for taking you. If I had a lovely wife like you I wouldn't risk leaving her at home."

I got angry at this. "Noel, if you're suggesting what I think you're suggesting, then you'd better stop. I was never unfaithful to Pyotr, even in my head."

"Sorry mother, it was just a tasteless joke, but you are..."

"Drop it, Noel."

He dropped it and we went silent for a while.

To smooth over out slight fracas I asked Noel if he'd like to drive the Porsche on the return journey. His face lit up and he yelped, "Would I!"

I lived to regret that invitation as he drove the car round bends at twice the speed I would have risked. I found the only way to stop myself screaming was to shut my eyes. Somehow we did manage to arrive home in one piece and with no police wailing after us.

"I'm not sure I'll let you drive again," I said.

"Oh, did I frighten you," he replied serenely, "I was only trying it out."

The following day was shopping day. Noel had no suitable gear for skiing so mother bought him the necessary. I made a four day booking with one of the skiing lodges and the following day we were off to the slopes.

Noel had never skied so under the guidance of one of the instructors there was a lot of shuffling and tumbles before he finally got the hang of it, but it took nearly the whole of our time before he could manage one of the easier slopes. It made me happy to think I could introduce him to something new in his life.

After the skiing we returned to the city and for a few days wandered around the sights or lounged at home. Then I suggested a visit to The Lake.

There were many lakes in the country, but the largest and most beautiful was known simply as, "The Lake."

I booked us into a hotel for five days and hired a motor boat for us.

It was while staying at The Lake that I began to get a bit curious about Noel's sexual orientation. At both the ski slopes and The Lake there were many pretty girls. I had expected Noel to take an interest but he seemed almost oblivious to the often clearly available female flesh. I wondered if he was gay, but he showed no interest in the pretty young men either.

It was while we were staying at the hotel that I was reassured as to his sexual orientation, and at the same time disturbed.

During the summer people would swim in The Lake, but during our stay it was still spring and the water too cold for swimming. However, the hotel had a large swimming pool so we took advantage of it.

It was while we were swimming and lounging around the pool that Noel seemed to be taking what some might call, "An unhealthy interest" in me.

We were both somewhat scantily clad, me in a bikini and he in some swimming briefs that were very brief. The second time we used the pool and were laying on air mattresses at the poolside, Noel commented, "You know, mum, you've got a lovely figure."

"Thank you darling." I had been told that before, so I just accepted it as a filial compliment, but then he began to stroke my thigh in a very unfilial manner.

"Darling, don't do that, there are people around." I think the addition of "There are people around" might have been a mistake. It could imply that it was okay for him to stroke my thigh if there weren't people around.

Noel seemed a little put out by this rejection and muttered, "Sorry, it's just that you look so tempting."

I ignored that remark and to cover the moment of embarrassment I jumped into the pool.

At the time I didn't admit that I had liked his touch. Up to that point our physical contact had been minimal; apart from the hug he gave me when I had cried, our contact had been a goodnight peck on the cheek.

I didn't know how long Noel had been without sexual contact with a girl, but he certainly hadn't had any while he had been with me. I on the other hand had not had sexual contact with a man for over three years. This did not bother me since I seemed to have gone in to sexual deep freeze after Pyotr was killed, but that simple touch on the thigh by Noel seemed to melt just a little my frozen sexual self.

To change my metaphor, soil that has lain fallow for some time tends to be very fertile, and when a seed is planted in it, growth can be vigorous.

I had in a sense lain fallow for more than three years. The men who had approached me I had fended off, but now I had a young and very attractive man living with me. That touch on my thigh was like a seed planted in the fertile soil.

I am not suggesting that I became immediately overwhelmed with sexual desire for him, but the seed began to shoot. At first I hardly recognised what was happening to me, but it was the very exciting nature of our relationship that produced its own problems.

I was Noel's natural mother, yet I had not seen him since soon after his birth. He had come to me as a young man, almost nineteen, and I was still a relatively young woman, thirty five to be exact.

We had tried to establish a mother/son relationship, but it had really become more like companionship. I not only liked this young man who had come into my life, I had begun to love him. I also realised that he was feeling the same about me.

I analysed none of this at the time, but felt a sense of disquiet. It was like a slow awakening after a long sleep.

One of the early signs was what I noticed going on around us at the hotel. It was still early in the season, but among the guests I noticed a number of older women with what were obviously their toy boys. Some of them were even trying to pass these vigorous youths off as their sons, but it was really quite easy to see who slept in whose room.

I wondered if people thought that Noel and I were lovers playing the mother/son game. Noel had never entered my hotel bed room nor I his. Even at home the same applied, but it did concern me that the other hotel residents might be saying, "She's just another rich bitch with her hired lover."

I tried to ignore these thoughts, but thoughts are not so easily set aside, especially when reinforced by stirrings within the self. That touch on my thigh had set in motion unwanted feelings. I began to experience sexual feelings, and had to resort to masturbation to give myself relief. On our return home I even went so far as to buy a vibrator to help me control the sexual urges.

What Noel was thinking and feeling I didn't know. He had made no further moves that might have implied a sexual interest in me, but I was still uneasy. Again it was this very uneasiness that exacerbated my own libidinous thoughts, leading to ever more desperate applications of the vibrator.

The seed planted in fertile ground had germinated and was growing with ever increasing vigour.

The ridiculous thing was I was not even sure that the one touch on my thigh had in fact had any sexual connotation. It had been I who had interpreted it as such and even come close to accusing Noel.

These increasing sexual thoughts about Noel, and my fantasising him during my vibrator induced orgasms, took me beyond uneasiness to a real dread of what was happening to me.

I started to wonder if I should ask Noel to leave, but what reason could I give? He had done nothing wrong, indeed, he was a delightful companion. We went together to the theatre, concerts and to see films. We took more trips out of the city in to the mountains, often stopping overnight at a local inn.

Being a "rich bitch" I was able to indulge and spoil him, perhaps trying to make up for all the lost years. He offered to pay for some of our activities himself, but I refused. I wanted to give to him, but it was becoming clear, despite my early attempts at denial, that I wanted to give to him in a way that society would consider inappropriate to say the least.

Our physical contact had moved on a little from the goodnight peck on the cheek, to lip contact. This was like watering the plant that had grown from the seed. The kisses were not the deep kisses of passion, but were none the less tantalising.

I had ambivalent feelings about this contact. On the one hand I thought I should stop them, given the effect they had on me, on the other hand the beginnings of vaginal lubrication and the little ticking sensation in my clitoris were delightfully teasing.

So, all the warning signs were there, yet I did nothing about them apart from feeling pleasurably guilty. Such is the allurement of the forbidden fruit.

Summer had arrived and the weather was pleasantly warm. Our winter clothing shed, we moved around the house lightly clad. I made sure I never appeared before Noel in my bikini or anything provocative, but he tended to get around in a pair of old shorts. I had these marked down for replacement, but the shorts did reveal what I had both dreaded and hoped for. He often had an erection.

I had little doubt that like me he masturbated to relieve his sexual tensions because as we were constantly in each other's company, I knew he was not copulating with any of the local girls or women.

The sight of these erections added further spurts of growth to the plant that had grown from the seed. My need to resort to the vibrator grew ever more frequent. I even began to plot how I might lure Noel into having sex with me, but I probably would never have put the plans into operation. It was Noel who broke down the barrier.

Occasionally we watched a television programme or a video. Having the money to afford the best, I had a very large screen. We would sit together on the divan, lounging against the cushions, and I would sometime snuggle up to Noel in what I told myself was a "motherly fashion."

Until the night in question Noel had done no more than put his arm round me as I snuggled, but on that night all that changed.

It was my custom, if we were going to watch T.V. to shower first, and then sit wearing only my dressing gown. That was how I was dressed that night.

I was snuggled up to Noel watching a rather bland film with his arm round me, when I felt his hand reach inside my dressing gown and begin to fondle my breasts.

What followed was almost like a dream. I was already aroused by the physical contact we had been having, and I said nothing to oppose his fondling. He bent over me and kissed me, still touching my breasts. I responded to his kiss, opening my mouth to take in his tongue.

For a while we explored the recesses of each other's mouths, and then Noel unfastened the cloth band round my dressing gown, and opened the gown to expose my body.

No word was said as we ceased kissing and putting a hand under my breast I raised a nipple. He leaned over me and began to suck and nibble the pink little protrusion, as I stroked his hair.

I felt his fingers begin to investigate my sex organ, and as I was already wet, I parted my legs as an invitation to enter me.

He came between my legs and probed with his penis for my entrance. As I guided him in there came the first sounds from us.

"Oh, mother."

"Darling."

I felt him push in to my depths, his shaft tight against the walls of my vagina. When he had fully entered me and his testicles were firmly up against my vulva, we lay for a while unmoving, looking into each other's eyes. Then he kissed me again and took hold of a breast as he began to slide up and down in me.

The strange silence of our coupling was only broken when my orgasm began its relentless journey to full climax. I clung to him shrieking as the exquisite agony rocked me, and I heard him cry out as the first violent release of sperm drove into me.

Each successive ejection of his semen produced a whimper of delight from me, and a gasping, "Ah...ah...ah..." from Noel. With his last ejection he drove in as deeply as he could, and held there. I was still in the throes of my orgasm, gripping and releasing his shaft with my vaginal muscle.

Our outcries had ceased and as the last of my tremors ended we were once more silent, looking into each other's eyes. Then Noel withdrew from me and we lay on the divan no longer looking at each other, embarrassed and confused at what we had done.

I have heard that it is not unusual for two people, once they have alleviated the sexual tension that brought them together, that they can have a slight feeling of guilt and revulsion. I felt nothing like that and am certain Noel didn't. In our silence seemed to hang the question, "What happens now?" It had been such a strange wordless coupling. No word of love or protest had been spoken. It was as if we had flowed naturally together.

To myself I now acknowledged the quality of my feelings for Noel. I had started by liking him; that had passed on to love; now I was sexually in love with him.

I know that many women feel as I did after that first union. They have given themselves to a man, but not all men reciprocate. Rather than behave like an epicurean who, having once tasted the dish, want to return to it again and again, they are more like pigs snuffling in the trough, careless of the swill they consume.

It is the immediate post-coital moments that are the testing time. Michael had been content to return to me until pregnancy stepped in. Pyotr and I had only had sex after we were married, and his appetite for me never waned. How would it be with Noel?

The question that ran through my head was, had I betrayed myself by yielding so easily to his initial advance? Now I would know if the lust was also accompanied with love.

If he had been my "toy boy" I would have understood he was taking my body at a price I paid, but it wasn't like that. Yet there was the ancient taboo of incest and our age difference. How would that now weigh in our relationship?

I felt his arm go round me and he drew me to him and said, "I do love you mother, but not only as my mother, I love you as a man loves a woman."

I was reassured and responded, "And I love you as a woman loves a man."

He gave a deep sigh of content, then drew my legs apart again and entered me. This time it was no silent coupling. He murmured his love for me as he moved, and I spoke of my deep feelings for him. It was a long tender coupling in which I had no orgasm, but simply relished his penetration.

A strange and foolish thought came to me. "This is like the time when, on a wedding night the first passion is satisfied, and then begins the long process of discovering each other. This is my wedding night with Noel, the consummation of our love."

The thought remained unspoken for there was the fear that he would find it ridiculous or overly sentimental. When he emptied himself into me again and was relaxing at my side I asked, "Will you share my bed from now on?"

He smiled and said, "Always from now on, if you permit."

I returned his smile saying, "I permit."

We shared a shower and retired to my bedroom and the large bed I had once shared with Pyotr. I looked at the bed and felt a cold tremble run through me. Was this unfaithfulness to Pyotr? Of course not; I had mourned and been celibate long enough; my body must have its way with a new beloved.

As I sank down on the edge of the bed Noel came and knelt in front of me. I knew what he would do to me, but I waited, letting him make the moves. He parted and raised my legs, and then gently touching the lips of my vulva he parted them to expose the sensitive pink inner lips.

It was a strange moment as he knelt there looking intently at my pudendum. Was he imagining the time I gave birth to him through that seemingly small aperture? Or had he never seen female genitalia before. I did not ask and he never said. His only word was, "Lovely."

He leaned forward and began to lick the soft little lips, at the same time reaching up with his hand to touch and caress a breast. I held his head to me letting the waves of love and desire flow over me, submitting to his tonguing until he found my clitoris.

With the touch of his tongue on that delicate nub of nerves, I had to make a new submission, surrendering to another orgasm as I begged Noel, "Don't stop darling...please don't stop," then I could say no more, but only cry out with the anguish and intense pleasure as my climax swept over me.

As I slipped down on the other side of the pinnacle I found my voice again; "Darling...oh my darling...my love..."

I was still on the edge of the bed, and Noel moved me back and speared me once more with his shaft. His face was wet with my lubricant, but I kissed him and licked, tasting myself. As he once more began to shoot in to me, for the first time he called out my name, "Sarah...oh Sarah."

He was empty now, and I was satisfied for the time being. We slept, entwined in each other's arms.

When I woke the next morning it was to see Noel beside me, resting on his elbow looking at me.

"You're very lovely, Sarah" – it was to be "Sarah" from now on. He bent to kiss me as his hand found my breast. Soon he was suckling my nipple like a hungry child. I was to learn that Noel was always ready for sex when he woke and this matched my own needs.

For the next few days after our first coupling we could not leave each other alone. Looking back I think we coupled on every chair, table, and couch and in every corner of the house. It was an ecstatic time when set free from past restraints we sated each other, but then we began to calm down.

The weeks seemed to pass with lightening speed, and then two events came together.

I was pregnant, and Noel's visa was about to run out. That I was pregnant should have come as no surprise, since neither of had taken any precautions; but Pyotr and I had tried all our marriage for me to get pregnant, and it had never happened. Now, within weeks of our starting a sex life together, Noel had fertilised me.