The Tailbone's Connected to the...

I very nearly squealed as I came fully awake, slipping out from under the arm in a flash, slipping out of the bed and landing, naturally, on my tailbone. This time, though, I'd be checking for bruises on my own!

I was busy mentally calling myself every synonym I could think of for 'stupid' when a quiet groan from the bed told me that Adam was stirring, probably woken by the sound of flesh hitting threadbare carpet. I yanked my blanket down over me.

"You waking up, honey?"

"Mgfrmp."

"Yes, good morning to you as well, now can you scuttle off to the bathroom for a couple of minutes?" I might have had on bra, panties, nightie and blanket, but I wanted my privacy and a skirt and blouse as soon as I could get them.

"Mgfrmp."

"Thank you. I'll make the coffee as a reward, okay?"

The form on the bed sat up, rubbing his eyes (no joke) and then peered at the pillow next to his, clearly wondering where I was. "Mum?"

I poked my head up from my position on the floor, "Here. Now run along so I can get decent."

He yawned and muttered something like 'you are' (I honestly think) before covering his mouth and slipping out of bed to make for the little en suite cockroach meeting centre.

I saw him grab his jeans and I never really saw him try to cover the hardness that was so obvious inside his boxer shorts, and the way he had to press it against his belly with the denim over the cotton... Really.

As soon as the door was locked behind him I called out that I would tell him when he could come back in and as soon as I got his muffled agreement I cast of the blanket and stood up. I looked down at the top of my left breast where his fingers had rested for a few seconds, my bra visible down the front of my nightie. Had I really been that... jeez.

I grabbed my bag and hauled out clean underwear, grabbing also my clean blouse from its hanger and a skirt from over the back of the room's one chair. With trembling fingers I pulled off my nightie, glanced at the en suite door as if that would confirm whether it was locked or not, and then unsnapped my bra and let it fall down my arms as I pushed down my panties. I was naked with Adam just a few feet away and yet I stopped moving for a second.

It wasn't as if he was never this close to me this way -- every time I bathed or showered at home when he was there in his room for instance -- but this felt weirdly different. I was naked, unmoving... his fingertips had brushed across--

"Oh stop it, moron!" I whispered.

"Did you call, mum?"

I very nearly squealed -- again -- and clamped a hand to my groin and another vaguely across my chest, even as I said "No, not yet!" with an air of desperation that I prayed he couldn't hear.

Hear it or not I could almost hear the shrug in his voice when he just said "Ok" and I did NOT hear any disappointment in his tone.

I don't know why, but I took my hands away from my body and faced the bathroom door. I touched where he had touched and stopped abruptly when I felt that tingle again, deep in my groin.

With a shudder I grabbed the clean, white -- and shock-of-shocks -- matching undies and ignored how thin they were as I dragged them on, the blouse and skirt following in record time.

*****

I had made a vow to use the spare pillows as a barrier that night, but other than that I had a most relaxing day while Adam was off chasing Vikings again. A light lunch, a couple of coffees and then the best bit of all: a Lottery scratch-card win.

I never gamble, I say, but the Lottery is different. And that day was the perfect time to break my no gambling rule. The prize was £500. And I was waiting at the motel when Adam got back.

"That's a new dress," he remarked almost straight away.

I was surprised and delighted he'd even noticed, "Yes it is. You like?"

It was a strappy halter-neck, ideal for a hot summer evening and Adam took a good look before nodding, "Very nice, but I thought we were broke?"

"We were, but a little lottery win means a new dress and a nice dinner. You good with that?"

"Wow, mum -- which means yes!"

And so started a great evening in many ways. The dinner was superb -- Nepalese -- and we even managed couple of glasses of rather nice wine at a classy-feeling wine bar before heading back to the motel where we had earmarked a few Budweisers as a perfect end to a very pleasant second day.

My dress had caught people's -- men's -- eyes all night long and that was pleasing, even if Adam did look a little wary at the unusual attention I was receiving.

Yet another guy didn't hide his admiration as I bought the third round of beers and the alcohol was just enough to allow me to ask Adam just why he was being so protective when it was only a few looks.

"I just... don't want any guys to get any ideas."

"Ideas that I might still be sexy at my age?" I teased.

"Oh they don't need a slinky new dress to see... mum!" he finished with a groan as I laughed at him.

"So, sexy am I? No wonder you were so keen to check my tailbone!" I was getting a little light headed, of course.

Adam rolled his eyes, "I said I was sorry, really."

Very light-headed, "Hey, I'm not after apologies. I think it's nice -- but naughty-nice -- that you still think I'm okay."

My son looked hard at me, trying to see what was truth and what was tease. Given that maybe I had veered a long way towards truth, he must have seen that in my eyes, "Well you are okay. More than okay. Okay?"

We both laughed, "I guess I'll let you off," I told him, "Maybe it's right what they say about flattery."

"So... it's okay to say that I think you look great?"

"Maybe for one night only," I was giggling a bit now, fascinated by Adam's creeping confidence.

"Well you do look great," he took a deep breath, "You still got a great figure and that dress really shows off your... you know?"

"My you know?"

Adam dared a nod below my chin and I feigned a little shock, hand to mouth. "You're not talking about my... bust, are you?"

He didn't seem to be comforted too much by my giggle, but managed a semi-confident 'yeah'.

"Although," I added -- and please remember I was a little tipsy by then, "I prefer the word 'breasts'. Is that what you mean?"

"Y...yes... your..."

"My breasts?"

"Y... your breasts!"

"Actually," I tried to stifle another laugh and the vague stirrings of that darned tingle, "the best word off all for me is..." I dropped my voice to a whisper.., no longer tipsy but obviously drunk, "tits."

Adam's eyes widened, but he saw his opportunity, "Yes," he had to swallow hard and lowered his voice as well, "I really think it shows off your tits really well!"

The tingle surged but alarm bells started to ring loud and clear. I hitched myself onto a barstool and laughed a little louder, "Enough of the teasing. Sorry, but it is appreciated, I promise."

Adam looked confused for a moment then seemed to get my point -- it should be treated as a big tease. Then he glanced down and wasn't so sure any more. I looked down as well and saw immediately what he meant.

When I had slipped up onto the stool, half of my skirt was hitched even further than its already short status dictated. Although Adam had no way of knowing, since the halter neck didn't allow for a bra, the white panties on view were part of the matching set. I jumped down with a squeak and a giggle.

"Accident!"

"Really, mum? Not finished teasing me yet?" Adam actually looked rather miffed.

"Oh darling," I gave him a genuine hug, "I swear on all that's loved, it was a pure accident!

"Oh yeah? You mean it?"

"Cross my heart and all that rubbish." I hiccupped, "Anyway, now I've got your views on my tits, what about my knickers?"

"Mum!"

It took me twenty minutes to calm him down.

*****

He did calm down in the end, and we really did just talk about neutral stuff like his plans for life after education and my dreams of opening a restaurant. The beer slid down well and we were both a little wobbly by the time we got to the room, together this time for support -- a bathroom lock-down would take care of modesty issues.

I asked Adam if I could get ready for bed first when we got into the room and he agreed easily, even helping me to find the bra I wanted for underneath my nightie.

He fished it out from under the bed and handed it to me, "You don't really need it, you know?"

"Pardon?"

"I know it was a bit of a tease," he said, lips freed by beer I guess, "But you're in great shape and don't need a bra."

"Are you saying...." I giggled.

Adam laughed, blushing now, "Yeah, you got great tits."

I feigned shock and half-feigned annoyance, trying desperately not to feel any tingles, and trying even harder not to notice the rigidity of my nipples, "That really was a tease!"

"Sorry, mum."

I gave a mock sigh, "Boys will be boys, I guess, but in any case, I'm going to strap myself in tonight. And for your information, it might just be for protection more than support!"

Before anything could be read into that by either of us I was off into the bathroom to change, and we both dived into bed at our respective times in utter darkness so that not even blushing cheeks could be seen.

*****

Sunlight through grime, why were there two floors... and an arm over my shoulder. Yep, I was awake again, and heavy breathing behind me indicated that I was the first.

But things weren't quite like yesterday morning, were they? A moment or two of thinking and I realised that the arm was lower, the hand already an inch further towards my nipple, almost half of which was surely uncovered by the featherweight bra?

He was asleep for sure but how close was he to touching me there? How close might he have already come? If I turned to slip out of bed slowly this morning... would those fingertips trace....

The flex!

And today the tips of two fingers must have been on the very edge of my left aureole -- and I couldn't move. Did I dare not move for fear of what might be touched? Or... or what? Or was I waiting,.. was I that naughty, that bad?

Another two minutes of utter stillness. One hundred and twenty seconds of me calling myself every bad name under the sun.

Then flex and oh my.

I could feel the thin material of the bra slip off the rigid nipple, guided blindly by the sleeping fingers. I tried to control my breathing as I felt air pass around the finger and around my bared nipple. My left breast was exposed. My son was touching it.

Another flex and it was all I could do not to moan as the fingers slid lower, covering more of my naked breast.

I was bad, mad. I was awful. I was letting Adam cup my bare breast. I was letting him feel one of the breasts -- the tits -- that he had openly admired when we were so tipsy the night before. But I did NOT feel the heat at my groin. I WOULD get up real soon. Real, real soon...

A mumble and groan from behind me. A squeeze of my bare breast. My son moving close, breaths still deep in sleep.

I had to move before I could feel...

The heat and hardness at his groin which would tell me how much he liked the feel of my breast in his sleep... Did it really affect him that way? Did I really need to know? Need to stay there and--

Another shuffle from Adam and I did know. Hardness between the cheeks of my butt, heat against my still bruised coccyx, and the feel of my hard nipple pressing into his palm just as his hardness pressed against me.

I had to move but then that nipple was freed and I felt so liberated even as my breast lay bare. Liberated but... what? Wondering? Interested in what....

The hand reappeared, at my hip now. And just like the dress on the barstool last night, my nightie had ridden up so high that my panties were bared. I gasped as those fingers touched bare flesh, tried to fight the sensation of pleasure that the cotton nightie was not there to ameliorate contact. Tried so, so hard not to wonder what my boy's new interest might be, how thin the material of my panties was.

He wouldn't dare, would he? Not touching there....

Did I want him to dare? Did I? Why hadn't I moved? Why did a tiny part of me feel so tingly -- overjoyed? -- because such a hard part of my boy was pressed so tightly against me now?

Why was I letting that hand slip now across my hipbone? Why wasn't I stopping those fingertips from starting to glide over the thin cotton, from hip to... "No!"

I grabbed the hand as fingertips met the heat of my groin through the cotton. What was I thinking?

Adam stirred behind me, groggy, not awake properly yet, "M... mum?"

I held the hand, frozen now. I wondered why I hadn't thrown it aside, wondered why I let my body stay where it was, the hardness -- my son's hardness -- pressed against me still.

Even as he woke it stayed there. "Mum?" Real confusion now.

I seriously hoped so. Make light of it? Be horrified? What?

"Adam?"

"Mum?"

"I think you were having a dream but reckon you should roll back your way now."

"I can't help it, mum."

I paused, my mind a blur of white noise, "What... what do you mean?"

We were still locked together, "I meant it, you know?"

"I don't understand you..."

"Oh, mum, I'm sorry. But you really are... I mean, I can't help myself, you're... just... I meant all that I said about how you look," His hand pulled free of mine, "You have such a beautiful figure and these breasts... tits..."

The hand settled back over my bared left breast and I gasped, "Adam!"

"I'm really sorry, mum, but you are just so beautiful to me. You're the sexiest woman I know and to be able to touch you like this is... is a dream!"

I looked down at myself, my son's hand, in disbelief. He was still wrapped tight to me, his hardness still pressed against my barely covered flesh. But...

But my nipple was rigid against his palm. Adam, my son, my boy, was cupping my bare breast. I felt heat at my groin -- and I wasn't moving an inch. What sort of depraved, awful woman was I?

Why, with e very second this went on, did I feel more and more moisture and heat in my groin?

I tried, I really did. "Adam! This is so wrong!"

Adam pulled back and for a moment I thought I had got through to him. Then, "I know, mum, but I really, really can't help this!"

The hand gently caressing my bared left breast moved across my chest and the right-hand strap of my bra was pushed down my arm. My right breast pushed free, and I was bared to my son.

My penultimate attempt was to lay back, let him see. I even unclipped the bra and cast it aside. "There, does that make you happy?"

"Yes, yes, yes. But does it make you happy?"

Adam's question was so caring, so grown up... honesty flooded through me. "I can't believe this, but I love it!"

My son's hands moved back to my bared breasts, now both hands almost worshipping them. I let out a moan which escalated to a cry as first he pulled my nightie over my head and then pressed me back down, nuzzled first my neck and then lower, lower.

And then he took a nipple into his mouth.

I put my fingers in his hair. I had just one chance left and I guess I knew it.

"Adam, oh, Adam. You know, don't you? Know this is so very wrong?"

He raised his head and looked deep into my eyes. After an eternity he nodded, my mind whirling in response -- Happy? Sad? Messed-up? Then he followed the nod with another, and said, "I know, mum. But mum? I just can't help it!"

His lips dropped to my other breast and I let out a shuddering groan. A hand crossed the front of my panties to my groin and my legs scissored open, seemingly of their own accord, Adam -- my boy -- finding the heat and wetness waiting there.

Other fingers scrambled at the waistband of those tiny panties and I felt them pushed off my hips, my legs closing for a moment to ease their path down to my feet. I was naked, open to the eyes of my only son, my sex, my womanhood bared to him.

It was going too far I knew. I knew it more when I heard his boxers sliding down. I knew it even more when I said that it was wrong and he should stop. I knew it fully when he agreed and told me he just couldn't help himself.

He lowered his hardness to my belly, then lower until the head reached my heat. He stared into my eyes again.

An eternity passed. And then I knew it completely and absolutely. As his eyes said 'I love you' and his hard cock said 'I need you'... I lifted my hips a tiny fraction.

My sex, my womanhood began to open. Adam began to ease down and the head of that glorious cock started to spread me. I grabbed his hips, held him suspended. "It's wrong."

He nodded. And pushed at me.

His hips slithered through my fingers and he entered me fully.

I moaned so loud I think. When he almost withdrew and thrust again, I moaned louder. When I asked him to talk to me and he said he loved me, his mother, I was whimpering... but when he asked me whether I liked the feel of his hard cock inside me I swear I howled.

I knew it was wrong, knew it, but oh god, he was inside me, staring at my nakedness, then sucking at the tits he had fed from all those years ago. It was wrong but it felt like the most heavenly fuck of all time.

I told him that and he ground harder, pumped at me.

He was gasping, but managed, "Wish it never had to end!"

Between grunts I said something like "You keep this quiet and maybe it won't."

The thrusts got harder and faster, "I meant this time but if that's the offer I accept!"

I grabbed his butt, curled my legs around his and stared into his eyes, shocked.

"Sorry if that's not--"

"No, not that stuff!" My eyes widened.

"What Mum?"

That last word started it. I swear, "This can't be happening!"

"What can't? Mum?"

He might have been concerned but his pace never faltered, "Adam," I kissed him, I just had to, "Adam, you're going to make me... oh god... climax!"

The feeling rose from so deep inside, rose fast and unstoppable. For every thrust of my son, I matched it with a buck of my own. He could feel it I guess and the thrusts and bucks got wilder and harder. Soon he was struggling and I could see it. I knew what he needed, knew what it would do to me. I kissed him first, felt his tongue against mine for a second before pulling back.

"Let it go. Adam let it go." The first of his juices flooded me and I lost control, "Oh god yes cum in me, cum in mum, cum in mum's pussy. Fill mummy, fill me! Oh fuck!"

Adam's hands crushed my bare tits, he was still trying to thrust just as I was trying to buck, the feel of his cock deep inside me, his cum filling me.... The orgasm hit me. Hit hard. I raised my hips as high as I could. I let out every sound I needed to as wave after wave of euphoria hit me. I felt the pull and push of a climax take control of me.

And then another, and another. It didn't really end, just wave after wave. The world could have walked past and I would have carried on climaxing, staring into the lusting, loving eyes of my boy. My son who had bared me, my touched me. Fucked me. I cum again, crying his name loudly, my eyes losing focus, my ears starting to ring. I managed to gasp something about him making me cum and another surge hit me. When Adam's lips closed over a nipple I think I blacked out.

*****

I came fully awake to find Adam still deep inside me, half hard there and his head buried in my hair. He realised I had stirred and leant up on straight arms, "I guess I should say sorry, mum."

"Was it that bad?"

"You seriously okay?"

"It's a bit late for changes of plans, right?"" He looked at me quizzically, "Adam, just because it was so very wrong doesn't mean that it didn't feel so wonderful." I pulled his head to mine and licked my lips... then his as I kissed him softy, finally breaking the grip as he moved.

He started to stir inside me, "So... you meant what you said about more?"

"If you can make me climax like that again I might mean every day -- but let's get rid of that sugary crap I just come out with. What I mean, you naughty son of mine, is that your mum has discovered she loves the feel of your hard cock inside her and, right or wrong, she wants more, okay?"