A Mother’s Story - Ch. 02

I didn't hear Stewart leave in the morning. I knew he was to pick up Tom by 6. They had a good five hour drive and a 12:30 tee time. They wouldn't get back until Monday afternoon.

I looked up at the ceiling. Two full days alone with Davey. He'd be out most of the time with friends. I really must stop thinking about him the way I am. I smiled at myself.

God last night was something. I could smell the stale pungent odor of sex in the room. It seemed to saturate the sheets and I reeked of it. I squeezed my upper thighs together, then thought, 'Beth, stop this nonsense. Get yourself together.' With that, I flung off the covers, headed for the bathroom to pee and shower.

After peeing I turned on the shower and tested the water. I stepped in and let the hot water pour over me. I closed my eyes, looked up; it splashed onto my face, through my hair. I put my hands up on top of my head, letting the water stream over my pits, chest, stomach and down my legs. Enjoying the moment of listening to the sounds of the shower, the warmth, thinking only about how good the hot water felt rinsing me off.

As the moment passed, I reached for the shampoo and started to wash my hair. I'm a natural brunette, no grey hairs yet. My hair goes just past my shoulders. I've wanted to have it cut shorter for a while, at least off my shoulders, but Stewart says he loves it long and actually begged me not to when I mentioned it. Even Davey said he...

I felt my heartbeat in my chest. DAVEY. Davey said he LOVES my hair just like it is.

I shook the thoughts out that came swirling back into my head, pumped some body wash in my hands and soaped the stench of sex off me. As I ran my soapy fingers over my pits, then down to my pussy, I felt stubble and knew I needed to shave. But not now. It could wait.

As the steam from the hot water rose around me, I reached for the detachable shower head, pulled it down, aimed the pulsating stream of hot water at my face, then pits, chest, stomach, past my crotch, down my legs, rinsing the soap off me. I spread my feet apart and rinsed off my inner thighs. I spread my thighs wider apart. The pulsating jets of hot water reached my pussy, pushing my pussylips apart. The water flowed into my cunt and then back out. Cleansing me of both Stewarts and mine last night's secretions. I held the showerhead in place, letting the soothing hot water do its job.

The shower head moved slightly and the pulsating jets of hot water flicked against my clit. I gasped out loud, "OH DAVEY!"

This time I didn't shake the thought away. Instead in my mind's eye, all I could see was my son's jean covered bulge inches from my face. GOD, I want to reach out and release it, TO SEE IT, touch it, taste it.

"AAAAAAUUUUGGGGHHHH!". My voice echoed in the shower as I came. My head bent back, my mouth open, as the base of the shower still sprayed over me. The orgasmic release made me shiver. Now both of my hands held the shower head in place. It continued to batter my clit and move my pussy lips apart. My breathing heavy, I sucked water into my mouth and then spitted it out. "God, Davey!", I cooed.

I moved the pulsating head away from my pussy, letting my orgasm subside. My knees felt weak. "OH GOD." I sighed, as the sexual high faded and reality and guilt took its place.

Then a pang of fear spread over me. 'How loud was I? Could Davey hear me howling?'

I turned off the water, grabbed a towel, drying myself off quickly. Stepping through the steam, I wrapped a towel around my head, pulled on my full-length white terry-cloth robe, stepped out of the bathroom, and peaked out my bedroom door. I glanced down the hallway, no sign of Davey. Then I noticed the door to his room was opened. I tipped toed down the hall and peaked in. He wasn't there. I sighed. Where was he? Is he even home?

I called out, "Davey?". No answer. Louder, "DAVEY?". Again, no answer. I went down the stairs. He's not in the living room. The kitchen? Nope.

I walked back up to my room, looked at my cell phone. There were a couple of messages. One from Stewart saying he had picked up Tom and were on their way. The other from Davey; "At Jakes, having a video game all day binge. didn't want to wake you. be back whenever".

Again, I sighed in relief. Thank God he wasn't here.

After coffee, I did some cleaning, vacuuming, anything to distract me. After lunch, I went out and weeded the garden. It was really warm for a September day. After a few hours, I was hot, sweaty and dirty.

'Time for a bath.' I thought to myself. I went into the kitchen, drank a cold glass of water. I wondered what Davey was doing right now.

I stood against the sink for a few minutes, my mind filtering through thoughts. I put the empty glass down and noticed the almost empty wine bottle on the counter. 'That's what started all this.' I nodded to myself. I pulled out a wine glass, emptied the bottle and headed to my bedroom, glass of wine in hand.

I put the wine in the edge of the soaking tub. Turned on the tap, threw in a strawberry scented bath bomb and stripped off my dirty clothes. I looked at myself in the vanity mirror. Without makeup, my face showed its age. My hair was a stringy mess from the humidity outside. My once perky tits now sagged lower than I wanted to see. My arms and face covered in a thin layer of dirt. I turned on the shower to rinse the grime off. As the shower washed the dirt off me, I looked up at my sex partner from this morning and smiled; "Thanks honey, you were terrific this morning," I said to the detachable shower head.

I turned off the shower, stepped out and turned off the tap of the deep tub. The bubbles inches from the top. I slowly edged my way down into the very hot tub of soapy water. Easing in, I could feel the hot silky water already soothing my feet, calves, thighs. My ass and pussy touching the water at the same time made me coo. I lowered myself up to my shoulders. I picked up the glass of wine, saluted it and took a gulp.

I set the glass down on the side of the tube. I leaned back and slipped the rest of the way into the water letting the water and suds fully incase me up to my neck. My body now fully immersed, my skin tingling from the heat, I closed my eyes and sighed. I tried to shut my mind off, 'no thoughts', I said to myself, 'just relax, no thoughts.'

I squeezed my eye lids tighter, as if that would help keep my mind shut. I flexed my neck and shrugged my shoulders. I turned my head, squinting, I started to reach for the near empty glass of wine. Before my hand came up out of water, I stopped, stared at the glass. 'What if I hadn't woken up? What if I had drank to much, you know, out of it? What would Davey had done? Would he had just stood there and stared? Maybe I've just imagined this whole thing, the bulge in his jeans, him acting stand-offish. What if...?"

I focused on the wine glass. 'What if, when Davey got home tonight, I was "passed out" on the couch, only in my robe? An empty bottle of wine on the coffee table?'. My mind raced around the thought. No guilt. I just should do it to see if Davey really gets turned on looking at his mother or if it was all in my head. 'Yeah, why not? What can it hurt? A little experiment. He'll either just stand and look at me "passed out" and go to his room or he'll...What? What could he do, will he do? Nothing. He'll go to his room and leave me to sleep it off, that's what he'll do.'

I felt like I was setting a trap and I was the bait.

I reached for the glass, swigged the last of the wine down. Confident I'd settle this ridiculous idea of my son and me once and for all. I smiled and slid my head under the water.

When l surfaced, I reached for the shaving cream, lifted my right leg out of the water and lathered up. I shaved off the three-day stubble. When finished, I dipped leg back into the now warm water, rinsing off the remaining cream. I lifted my leg back out, admiring the sheen and running my hand over the smooth, wet, hot skin. I did the same with my other leg, then I shaved my pits. I ducked under the water one more time. I then sat on the edge of the tub and carefully shaved my pubic area. I dipped my ass back onto the tub, moved my fingers across my smooth mound. Pressed one finger between the lips of my pussy, then pulled it away. 'Not now.' I thought. I don't know what time Davey will be home and I want to be ready. I can play with myself later.

I pulled myself out of the now tepid water, stepped back into the shower to rinse off the soap and to shampoo and condition my hair. 'If I'm going to do this, ' I thought, 'I'm going to do it right.' I turned off the shower, wrapped a towel around my head and dried myself off. The deodorant stung my freshly shaved pits.

I wrapped myself up in my white, soft, full length terry cloth robe, I felt warm, comfortable, anxious.

I stood in front of the mirror. 'Okay, not too much makeup, just enough to smooth out the wrinkles and a liglht coat of dark pink shade of lipstick. No perfume. The strawberry scent from the bath bomb would do. If I had on perfume, it may make Davey wonder why I was wearing it, or maybe I was over thinking to the whole scenario.' I went to work. My breathing labored. 'God, what am I doing?', but I just kept on applying the makeup.

Done, I looked at myself in the mirror. The light makeup was enough to take years away. I stood back and looked at myself. I opened my robe, eyed my sagging tits, sighed. 'Can't do anything about that.' and then belted the robe shut. I went back into the bedroom. 'Panties, I should at least be wearing panties.' I went to the dresser, picked out a nice sheer white pair like I had on the yesterday. I slid them on, examined myself in the dresser mirror and the turban of towel on the top of my head. I went back into the bathroom, took off the towel, took out the blow dryer and dried my hair and brushed it out. I left it a little damp, so it was frizz a little when it dried, like I hadn't styled it.

Another look into the mirror. 'Complete.' I re-belted my robe. Another quick glance in the mirror and I headed downstairs. I was too nervous to be hungry, but I fixed myself a salad. As I was eating, I texted Davey, "Honey, when do you think you'll be home."

About 15 minutes later, "Around 11ish" was all he texted back.

I looked at the clock, at least three hours to kill. I opened a new bottle of wine, poured a full glass to keep my courage up. I grabbed the empty bottle on the counter and headed to the living room. I set the wine bottle and my glass on the coffee table, turned on the TV to some chick flick. I laid on the couch and started to change positions trying to find the one that would look like I was drunk and asleep when Davey got home. On my side, my head on a couch pillow, my robe bottom, tucked between my knees. One hand under the pillow, the other draped in front of me. I could see my reflection in the TV screen. 'That'll do'.

I sat back up, took a sip of wine, lost myself for a while in the movie that was on. It ended and I searched for another chick flick, found one and thought, by the time this one is over Davey should be getting home. I went back into the kitchen poured another glass of wine and settled on the couch and focused on the movie.

Time passed, the movie ended and still no Davey. I looked at the clock, it was half past 11. I just let the next movie come on. The second glass of wine was long gone and I didn't bothered to refill the glass. I was frozen to the couch, not wanting to miss Davey getting home. There was a ringing in my ears as I listened intensely for the front door to open.

I lay back on the couch in the position I had settled on. I closed my eyes. Then I heard the sound of the front door. I held my breath. My heart beating so hard in my chest I thought Davey would hear it.

I listened as he shuffled into the living room. I dared not open my eyes.

"Mom?"

Only the sound was dialog from the movie could be heard.

"Mom?" Davey's voice was closer.

"Mom?" His voice seemed to come from right on top of me.

"Mom, are you drunk?" There was a bit of laughter to his voice.

"Come on mom, let get you to bed. Gezz."

The TV went silent and I heard the remote drop to the coffee table. I felt Davey put his hand under my shoulder and push me up to a sitting position on the couch. I let my body go limp. He then put his arm around me, tucked it under my pit and lifted me off the couch.

I helped slightly and mumbled; "Stewart, is that you?"

"No mom, it's me, Davey."

"Stewart, you're home?"

Davey chuckled this time but didn't answer as he walked me up the stairs to my room. As I leaned against him, I could smell his musky day-old body odor. I inhaled it and held my breath, letting it soak into my lungs. I had one arm draped over his shoulder and I put my other hand on his chest for balance. His chest felt hard and warm under his shirt.

"Here mom." He lowered me and I realized I was in my room and he was sitting me on the edge of the bed. He then gently laid me on my back. He then took his hand, put it just behind my knees and boosted my legs onto the bed. I spread my feet apart slightly, letting my robe fall open. I could still fell that it covered most of me down to my knees.

Then there was silence. My breathing was heavy, like I was asleep. My chest still bounding so hard I thought it would betray me.

Davey faintly asked; "Mom?" Seemingly testing to see if I was wake.

This time a little louder; "Mom?"

Silence filled the room for which seemed liked minutes. What was he doing? Just looking at me. What was he thinking?

Then I felt it. The bottom of my robe was being opened to uncover my knees, my thighs.

Silence.

I couldn't help but twitch when I felt his fingers smooth over my thigh. The sensation stopped as he must of pulled his hand away when I moved.

"Mom?"

Then his fingers were again on my thigh moving along the skin, this time I didn't twitch. He ran his fingers up my thigh, they were cool and deliberate in their touch. He stopped just short of my panties.

'Oh, dear God. I didn't imagine it. My son wants me.'

His hand again stopped touching me. Then I felt my robe belt being untied. My mind raced. 'It's not to late to stop this,' but was it out of fear I didn't stop him or out of wanting to know what he would do to me.

I could feel him toss the belt to my sides. Next, his hands were on my robe, he hesitated for a few seconds, then peeled back my robe, exposing my chest, stomach, panties and my legs to him. I thought I heard him sigh. I lay perfectly still. Feeling his eyes looking down at me. My chest heaved as my breathing got heavier. He didn't seem to notice.

I then felt his hands on my tit closest to him. He cupped the sagging tit hanging down my side and pushed it up onto my chest, kneading it gently with his fingers. It was my turn to sigh. He stopped massaging my tit. I turned my head with my eyes closed. He waited for a few seconds and started to knead my tit again. Pinching my nipple very gently between his finger and thumb.

I lay perfectly still. Letting my son handle my tit with his smooth, strong, young hands.

As he was handling my left tit, I felt him take my right tit in his other hand and push them together in the center of my chest. He softly played and mashed my tits together like a little boy plays with a new toy. I had a warm tingle in my pussy as I imaged a smile on his face as he watched his hands manipulating me. He then let go of them and they slipped back down on me, flattening out.

I realized that my heart was no longer pounding in my chest, but my breathing was still heavy. I sensed he was still looking down at my exposed naked form, my only shield, the translucent panties covering my pussy.

His hand suddenly was behind the knee of my legs closet to him. He pulled it toward the edge of the bed, spreading my thighs apart. I felt the moister in my pussy begin to form. My mind screamed: 'OH DEAR GOD!' He moved his hand away. Now, under its thin veil, my bald pussy lay open and exposed to him.

Davey's fingertips touched me just below my belly button. I didn't move. He slowly glided them down applying no pressure, until he was at the top of my panties. He slid over top of the waist band, stopping when he reached the top of my pussy slit. He applied pressure and I felt three fingers on me. His middle finger on the top of my slit, the other two on either side. He moved slowly down my slit and on the sides of my puffed pussy lips. With his middle finger, he pressed the silky fabric of my panties between my pussy lips and pushed the fabric into me. He slid his index and ring finger on either side of my hairless mound. I involuntarily moved my pussy slightly up to meet his fingers and I turning my head to the side let out a soft, quick high pitched; "OH".

He paused for an instance. I assumed to see if I would awaken. He then moved his finger deeper into me and applied more pressure on the outside of my cunt, my pussy lips forming a mound around his middle finger. He then started to deliberately move his fingers over the thin layer of cotton, up and down slit of my cunt. I could feel the warm wetness in me touch his fingertip. My panties absorbing the dampness.

I heard my son whisper a breathless, "Jesus, mom," as he continued to work on my pussy.

He then abruptly took his hand away. I wanted to scream at him, 'DON'T STOP!' Then just as that thought came, his fingers were under the waist band of my panties and back against me again, this time without the thin fabric of my panties as a barrier.

He pushed his middle finger into my pussy, pressing up with the tip as if he was gripping my cunt with it. The base of his upper palm, pressed against my stiff clit. I softly moaned, moving my pussy up to meet his touch. He ignored my moan this time and massaged his fingers in me and around my pussy. My pussy grasping at his invading digit.

After a delightful, short-lived moment. He again quickly moved his hand away. There was a moment of silence that seemed to dominate the room. Then I heard a soft, "mmmmmmm." What was he doing? 'OH',

a questioning thought came to me, 'Is he smelling his mothers pussy on his wet finger? Is he tasting his finger? Is he smelling and tasting his mother's pussy?'

I lay perfectly still, letting the picture of my son, with his finger in his mouth, sucking his mother's juice off it. My pussy responding to the image.

I heard some rustling. 'Was that his belt buckle, his zipper, what was he doing, PULLING HIS PANTS DOWN?' I heard him grunt. 'Is he taking his pants off?'

I felt his hand on my wrist as he moved my hand over to the edge of the bed. My palm open and up. Before I could set the image of what he might be doing, I felt it. He was placing his semi-hard dick in the palm of my hand. I froze. He then put his fingers on the outside of mine and squeezed my fingers around his cock! MY HAND WAS HOLDING MY SON'S FIRM, YOUNG COCK!'

I could feel it grow stiffer in my embrace. I squeezed it. He moved his hand away and I kept my fingers wrapped around my son's rigid cock. I heard him sigh.

With his dick in my grasp, he started to move his cock back and forth in my hand. I kept my grip steady, letting him use my hand to masturbate himself. Then the question flashed through me, 'GOD, WHAT IS HE CUMS?'

His cock continued to grow and harden in my fist. I then felt his hand moved down again to my pussy. Sliding his fingers again under my panties, he slid his middle finger again into my pussy to match the rhythm of his cock sliding in and out of my hand. I moved my other thigh away, spreading myself wide open, letting him finger fuck me as my hand fucked his cock.

My breathing became labored. Another question soared into my mind, 'GOD, WHAT IF I CUM?'

But before I could fathom what I could do, what I should do? He moved his hand from my pussy and stepped back, pulling his cock out of my fist. I let it ease out of my clinched fingers.