A Mother & Son Story Ch. 01

Silently sitting there for a moment, Jason worked up the courage to reveal his intentions. Now that the time was at hand . . . the moment of truth . . . it was proving harder than he'd expected. He was on the verge of trying to get his mother to do something that mothers didn't normally do and most young men wouldn't consider asking . . . probably didn't even contemplate. Although he was determined, it wasn't coming easily and he desperately hoped she'd react the way he wanted . . . the way needed.

He also hoped that, in the end, she'd respond like she had in that video.

"I was thinking," he started, forcing his voice to remain steady. "It seems like you're afraid of Dad findin' out about the video and not because I was watchin' porn."

"Jason... Honey... I-," she began stammering.

"Hey, I'm not judgin' you," he interrupted her, taking one of her hands in his to hold. "I don't know why you've been lying to him all these years, and I don't really care."

Oh shit! He figured it out! The thought raced through her mind. She didn't know how he had, but he had. And now he was making her face it. But why?

"But I do know the video would bring that lie out into the light of day," he continued. "And neither of us know how he'd react."

"I'm sure it'd be fine." She failed to keep her voice from shaking a little.

"Yea, well, we both know that might not be true," he gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "So, I'm thinkin' I should help you keep your secret."

Missy wanted to breathe a sigh of relief. But she couldn't. Something about his demeanor told her that wasn't the end of it . . . that there was more to it.

"I also figure you should do something for me in exchange." Locking eyes with her, he noticed for the first time just how deep her brown eyes were . . . how beautiful they were, and he wondered how he'd never noticed this before.

Missy held her breath, hesitant to ask what he meant as seemingly hundreds of possibilities ran through her mind. Again, none of them correct.

"Are... Are you... trying to blackmail me?" she managed to ask in disbelief.

"Not exactly," he shook his head. "I'm just sayin' that if I keep your secret, you should repay the favor. Kind of a quid pro quo thing."

Now it was his turn to hold his breath while trying to calm his own nerves. Standing on the ledge, preparing to leap off it, he suddenly wished he'd thought of a couple other things he could ask for in case he lost his nerve. But he knew it was better this way. Without such a safety net he had to go for it . . . had to find the nerve to take that next step.

After a moment of silence, he took a deep breath and pulled her hand forward to lay it atop his semi-hard cock.

"And I know just the thing," he breathed, his manhood pulsing under her hand.

"What?! Jason!" She jerked her hand back in shock, her eyes darting between his and his crotch where she could see the obvious outline of his manhood.

"I figure you can give me a hand-job while I watch a couple of videos," he said. Now that he'd gone this far, there was no turning back, so he pressed forward.

"Jason... No. No," she stared at him, her first thought being that he meant that video.

"Don't worry. I don't mean that one," he smiled, seeming to read her mind.

And now her mind kicked into overdrive, thinking how whether or not he meant that video didn't really matter as much as what he was asking in general. How could he? Such things simply weren't done. She was his mother, for Christ's sake! He was her son!

"Jason... Tha-That's not appropriate," she gasped, her empty hand instinctively pulling at the robe to close it over her cleavage.

"Neither is that video," he told her, locking eyes with her, forcing his nerves to remain calm as he clung to his determination to make this happen.

Missy recognized that determination, she'd seen in many times in his father's eyes, and she knew he wouldn't back down easily. Breaking from his gaze, she accidentally glanced at his crotch again and saw his manhood pulse through his clothes. Suddenly an unexpected wave of something she never would have expected, given the circumstances, flowed through her.

"It-It's wrong," she declared, that wave making her unsure of just which of them she was actually speaking to.

In the ensuring silence she lifted her eyes to meet his gaze again. She could see the determination remaining steadfast and started calculating her options and their ramifications.

"Ok then. I guess I'll just send the video to Dad now so he can-," he shrugged, turning to reach for his computer.

"Wait. Just wait," her hand shot out to grab his arm.

Turning back, his eyes reflexively gazed down at her chest. Her sudden movement had caused the robe to fall open and he could now see plenty of cleavage where her breasts succulently swelled out above the bra's lace edging.

Missy didn't notice where his eyes were looking. Her mind was too preoccupied with what was happening . . . trying to figure out what to do . . . reeling with his . . . suggestion - as she chose to call it. She figured she had three options; she could call him on his threat, offer him another trade for his silence, or give in to his suggestion.

The first option was the riskiest and its success relied heavily on the hope that he was bluffing. Somehow she didn't think he was. While he knew his father would be upset with him for watching porn, he also knew there was a good chance Tom's main focus would be on her and the lie she'd been telling him all these years.

He'd been talking about wanting a new car, so offering him that in trade instead might work. But now she did notice where he was looking and the lust in his eyes made her fear that if she did attempt negotiating he might demand something . . . more.

So that left giving in to his demand. While it did seem the easiest - and quickest - way past this awkward situation, it was also the most troubling. The indecency of it . . . the impropriety. The idea of giving her son a hand-job went against so much that she'd been taught.

Yet, as this thought passed through her mind, she instinctively glanced down at his obvious manhood hidden within his clothing and a familiar warmth wafted through her body, an anticipatory tingle ran along her nerves.

Where did that come from? She thought in shocked disbelief.

"Honey... Have you really thought about this? About what you're asking me to do?" She asked in a shaky, near whisper.

"Yes, I have," he assured her, taking her hand in his once more.

In fact, Jason had spent a lot of time thinking about it . . . about the taboo his desires embodied. And he'd decided that he simply didn't care. He wanted this . . . wanted her. Not just a hand-job either. He wanted her. But he figured that would too much to ask . . . at first. He was simply hoping the hand-job would lead to more. Much, much more.

"It's just that... Well... We shouldn't do things like that," she breathed, mystified by the contrast between her mind and body. While the former was telling her of the impropriety associated with his suggestion, the latter was simmering, her nerves tingling. This conflict caused her to lift her glass and take a heavy sip of the whiskey it held.

"Maybe not. But it's what I want," he told her, drawing her hand to his crotch again.

Falling into a kind of haze, Missy watched her hand being drawn forward . . . watched it being placed atop his cock. His manhood pulsed and she inhaled sharply, her eyes closing softly as the sensation sent electrical jolts shooting through her . . . made her fingers reflexively tense atop the member. Suddenly ashamed by her reaction, her eyes shot open and darted up to his face. His smile told her he'd felt her fingers trying to wrap themselves around him and now believed he'd won . . . that she would do as he asked.

And she knew he was right.

As much as her mind objected to the idea of jerking him off, her body was reacting in a completely different manner. The warmth flowing through her grew hotter, turning into tropical breezes that made her flesh simmer and stirred an ache deep, deep inside her. Adding to these things was his obvious size; he was definitely his father's son. All of this caused her hand to remain in place when he pulled his away, no longer holding it at his crotch. It even slid back and forth slightly.

What are you doing?! She silently asked herself, shocked by her actions . . . her body's simmering heat. Taking another sip of her whiskey, she struggled with the internal turmoil . . . tried to find some balance . . . some kind of compromise between the two sides.

Leaning back, Jason grinned happily as she rubbed at his cock . . . her hand growing heavier . . . her fingers tensing more. Seeing the growing laxness of her features he knew she was getting aroused. He might not have had a lot of experience with girls, but he'd watched enough porn to recognize true arousal in a woman's face; the ones that didn't need spit to lubricate their pussy's when being fucked. Within his shorts his cock throbbed into a full erection.

Still, he waited another couple moments before pressing her for confirmation.

"So, I take it you agree to my proposition," he said when he felt the time was right.

Drifting along in a kind of trance, the building warmth of her body had quieted her mind's objections and nearly allowed her to forget whose cock she was rubbing at. But his voice drew her out of that trance and her gaze lifted to his face to remind her, giving new voice to her mental turmoil and making her hand freeze.

"Mom?" He pressed, reaching out to rest a hand on her thigh just below the robe's hem.

His hand was heavy . . . his palm hot against her flesh . . . and it sent new tingles racing through her body, made her heart pound in her chest. She thought how handsome he was, like Tom at that age. She'd seen it before, but never really saw it. Not until that moment. She knew that she was going to do what he asked, and she knew he knew it too. But she suddenly found herself thinking about doing other things . . . things that were much more objectionable considering their relationship . . . things that frightened her. That fear made her decide she needed to get it over with before...

"Ok. Just this once," she quietly sighed in resignation.

Grinning, Jason grabbed the waistband of his shorts and lifted his ass to push them down.

Pulling her hand away, Missy's breath caught at the sight of his cock popping into view. She'd been right, it was big and thick with prominent veins and a bulbous head, like his father's. The memory of how Tom's felt sliding deep inside her sex filled her mind . . . made her entire body begin to sizzle.

No! Don't think about that! She chastised herself, again frightened, and she again lifted her glass to her lips to sip at the whiskey.

After working his shorts down and off, he kicked them to the side, then leaned forward to cue up the videos on his computer. Leaning back, he rested his hand on her thigh again, the other settling on the couch beside him.

The first video started. In it a woman in her 30s was talking to a college-age guy who had obviously just finished doing some yard work for her. it didn't take long for her to invite him inside for a cold drink.

Missy didn't really notice the pair's ages as she tentatively reached over to take his rigid cock in hand. As her fingers wrapped themselves around it, her breath caught and electricity sparked along her nerves. Instinctively she started to gently stroke it . . . her hand delicately working up and down along the thick shaft. The warmth flowing through her grew hotter, tropical gusts fanning the familiar ache deep inside her and, setting her drink on the coffee table, she slid over a little closer to him.

Beside her, Jason barely watched the video. Instead, his eyes darted between his mother's jerking hand and the image of her facial features growing lax . . . their lustful appearance giving him hope for his ultimate goal. Her body was turned partway towards him and glancing down he saw that the robe had fallen open so he could clearly see her one breast swelling out from inside the bra's edge. He had to fight the urge to reach over and take it in hand. He also had to focus on the hand at her thigh, keep it from hungrily sliding up under the robe's hem as it slid up and down a couple inches along her flesh.

Sitting next to him, his mother might not have noticed the pair's age difference, but she was watching the video, finding it difficult to pull her eyes away. She was mesmerized, watching the woman drop to her knees in front the guy, her hands pulling his shorts down to release a sizable cock. Missy had never watched porn before, yet she instinctively knew what the woman was about to do and her heart raced with anticipation as the woman took that cock in hand and guided it toward her mouth. Then a quiet sigh slipped past her own lips as the woman slid hers onto the thick shaft to pump them back and forth along it.

Missy loved doing that . . . loved having a hard cock in her mouth. She loved the dirtiness of the act and the feel of it . . . the taste . . . the way the rigid shaft would slide along her lips . . . caress the little nerve-endings. She loved the feel of a man's hand in her hair . . . his fingers tensing in her tresses . . . their pleased groans as she sucked and licked their manhood.

And watching the woman do this made her mouth fall open slightly . . . her tongue run along her lips. Her eyes reflexively darted down to the manhood she was stroking, an urge to take it in her mouth suddenly rolling through her.

No! You can't! It's your son! She silently screamed at herself even as she saw the precum glistening at the cock's tip and wondered how it'd taste . . . how similar to Tom's it would be. Deciding she needed this to be over with, she used her hand to rub the precum down onto the shaft so she could hold it tighter, jerk on it a little faster.

Jason saw his mother's response to the action in the video and it was what he'd hoped for. In her own video she'd seemed to enjoy sucking Frank's cock, audibly moaning as she'd pumped her lips up and down on his shaft, appearing almost resistant when he'd made her stop. Now Jason though it might be his turn.

"You know, it'd probably be more comfortable for you if you were in front of me." He purposely avoided saying who it'd be more comfortable for and brought his hand up to her shoulder to gently push, urging her off the couch.

Understanding what he meant, Missy's mind screamed in opposition. He wanted her on her knees before him, like the woman in the video. She didn't know if he intended for her to do what the woman was doing, but he wanted her in a position that would allow for it and she wasn't confident in her ability to stop that from happening, so she resisted . . . for a moment. Her body tensed, refusing to move, while her eyes shot to his face to try and see if she could discern any such intention.

Jason wanted her to believe his suggestion was strictly about comfort . . . needed her to believe it. So he forced his expression to lie as he returned her gaze. It wasn't easy, but it must have worked because her body relaxed and she slipped off the couch.

As she slid down to her knees, she moved between his legs, her empty hand coming to rest on his thigh. While her hand stopped jerking on him during the transition, she never released his cock, her fingers remaining wrapped around him. And once she was repositioned, her hand started pumping up and down again, more precum offering added lubrication.

For the next couple minutes, Jason sat there, admiring the image of his mother kneeling before him, jerking him off. The ponytail held her hair back and her beautiful features were flush as she intently stared at his cock, her tongue licking her open lips a couple times. Also the silky, white robe had fallen loosely open giving him the best view so far of her luscious breasts within the light blue bra.

With the tropical breezes growing stronger as they wafted through her, Missy stared at the tantalizing image of the manhood she was tugging on . . . watched her hand gliding up and down. That image teased her . . . taunted her . . . forced her to fight the urge to take him into her mouth. She kept reminding herself whose cock it was and that she shouldn't do that for him . . . telling herself that she was already well outside of societal norms by giving him the hand-job and that she shouldn't make matters worse. But behind her the video was still playing and she could hear the woman's moans, whimpering out phrases that let Missy know the man was eating her pussy. These sounds . . . the images they created . . . the memories they induced . . . heightened the force of the heated gusts . . . caused them to fan her embers into sizzling, snapping coals of desire. And as the ache within her grew, so did the desire to take him into her mouth . . . to taste him . . . to feel his rigid shaft caressing her lips. Whimpering quietly with this inner turmoil, her fingers tensing on his thigh, she lifted her eyes to his to try again and see if he had any such thoughts. And what she saw made her heart race.

Jason was indeed thinking about her sucking his cock, and that desire made his eyes gleam with lust. The desire was no longer strictly about hoping the act would push her to the next level. Now it was more a burning need to have his cock in his mother's mouth . . . to watch her do it . . . watch her treat his cock to the same attentions she'd given Frank's . . . the same ones she probably gave his father's. He wanted her to suck his cock, plain and simple.

And he knew that if it didn't happen soon, he might not get the chance.

Watching her give him the hand-job already had his climax boiling within his balls. Past her pumping hand her robe had fallen open enough to reveal most of her bra and breasts, her stroking actions making the luscious mounds quiver within their confines. Her features had grown more and more beautiful with her arousal and when she gazed up at him a struggle was obviously being fought behind her smoldering eyes. Hoping that struggle emulated his own desire, he searched for the courage he needed. While he didn't want to ruin what was already happening . . . didn't want to do anything that might cause her to stop . . . with each passing second his desperation to have her suck his cock grew until he couldn't stand it any longer . . . forcing him to take a deep breath and steal his nerves for what he was about to do.

He leaned forward . . . reached out . . . brought his hands to her head. Grabbing her ponytail in one, he cupped the back of her head with the other and applied pressure . . . pushed her face down toward his crotch . . . her mouth to within a couple inches of his cock.

No. Not that. Not that. Missy's mind whimpered in opposition to her body's simmering desire. Seeing him reaching out, she knew what he was doing . . . what he intended . . . and her mind forced her body to tense, her neck tightening against his pressure to stop him from pushing her head down any further. Then she knelt there for what seemed an eternity, staring at his cock and being torn apart by the internal conflict. The sizzling coals within her loins had her wanting to do as he intended . . . to drop her lips around his beautiful cock and taste him . . . suck on him . . . pleasure him. But her mind kept screaming about how it was so inappropriate . . . a mother sucking her son's cock. How it was wrong . . . how she shouldn't do it. Lost in this struggle, her hand faltered in its stroking of his manhood.

Then Jason gave her body's desire all it needed to silence her mind's objections.

"Suck it, Mom. Suck my cock," he ordered, his hand applying more pressure.

Her eyes shot up to stare into his as a quiet whimper escaped her open lips. She loved being talked dirty to. A couple of guys back in the day had done it and it'd always made her feel so naughty . . . gotten her wetter . . . made her enjoy the sex so much more. She'd gotten Tom to try it, but his upbringing always seemed to get in the way, hampering his improvisation.