A Mother’s Story - Ch. 04

It was well after 10 o'clock when I woke up on Sunday morning. I stretched my arms out and my robe fell off my shoulders. I smiled; that son of mine had forgot to put my arms back in the sleeves. I shook my head. The things I let my son do to me last night and my first thought is, how he didn't remember to put my robe back on correctly. I took a deep breath. God yes, the things I let my son do to me. The images flashed through me. But where was the guilt, the self-loathing? I'd let my son use me like a one of those life-like dolls and I felt refreshed, rejuvenated. I sure didn't smell that way. I reeked. My Davey had toweled some of his and mine sweat off me, but I needed a good cleaning, a nice long, hot shower. I sat up and looked around the room. Why didn't I hate myself?

With no answer I climbed out of bed, grabbed my rope and dragged it to the master bath, threw the stained, smelly garment into the hamper, turned on the shower. I looked into the mirror. My hair was a tangled mess, my makeup smeared. I cupped my hands under my tits and raised them, wishing they would stay like that.

The steam from the shower rose behind me, I opened the glass door and stepped in. The hot spray running over me felt so good. I reached for shampoo and massaged it in my hair, rinsed and then reached for the body soap and lathered it on my face, neck, underarms, arms, tits and worked my way down. I ran my soap covered fingers over my bald pussy, letting my fingers slide between the slit.

"MMMMMMMMMMMMM", I sighed, not even tender. I reached for my dear, ever ready detachable shower head and rinsed the soap off me. I grazed the pulsating head over my pussy, this time not letting it rest to long. I put the shower head back in its' bases holster, I shrugged, "Not this morning lover, sorry."

I knew exactly where my Davey was. Every Sunday morning him and a group of his high school buddies play a game of pick-up football at the park. He usually gets back around 2 o'clock.

As I was looking into the mirror, drying myself off, I wondered what Davey would do if he found me waiting for him, dressed to the nines, letting him realize I knew exactly what he had done to me last night and that I had permitted it to happen? And without a bit of hesitation or reservations, I said out loud to myself in the mirror, "Well, hell, let's find out."

I wrapped a towel around my wet hair, grabbed Stewart's robe off the bathroom door hook and went into the bedroom sitting myself down at my vanity. I looked into the mirror, sitting in my husband's robe, I inhaled Stewart's musky scent. Then it hit me, my first pang of guilt and regret. Poor Stewart. I'd never cheated on him. Not that I hadn't fantasized about other men. His best friend, John, and then there was this one supervisor he had for a while I would have loved to have surrendered myself too, but that's another story.

I questioned my reflection, "Beth, maybe this isn't such a good idea? Maybe you should just let this all pass and fade away. A onetime mistake, an aberration. It would kill Stew." He really was my first real love. I'd been with a few other guys, but after, he's been the only one. We decided to get married when I got pregnant with Davey and never looked back.

I stood back up. Gave myself another quick glance. Hitched up the belt and headed downstairs for some coffee. The long robe dragging on the floor.

I stood against the counter, sipping the hot java. Staring into the empty kitchen waiting for my English Muffin to pop up from the toaster. The feel and scent of Stewart's robe a constant reminder of him. I made a vow to myself to leave my son alone, no more 'traps', no more 'tricks', just get back to normalcy, if possible. With the resolution in place, I finished the muffin and took a last sip of coffee. I headed back to the bedroom to get dressed and move on.

As I passed the couch, I thought, 'God, it's always going to be a reoccurring reminder that this is where it all started with my Davey.'

"Davey". His name brought back the thoughts of last night that came back to me in waves like the orgasms he had given me.

My mind churned, 'I hadn't even seen his cock. I had it in my hand, my mouth, my pussy and had to keep my damn eyes closed all the time! It just wasn't fair.'

By the time I got to my bedroom, the vow from the kitchen had vanished. I hung Stewart's robe on the back of the bathroom door again, no need to be reminded of him anymore. Davey is my only thought, my conquest, I want my turn. I unfurled the turban on my head, wrapped myself in another bath towel from the chest down, sat myself back down in front of the vanity and got to work.

Nothing subtle about the makeup today. I put it on as if I was going out to a party. A good base, mascara, rolled up the eye lashes, rogue for the cheeks, ruby red lipstick. I wanted Davey to notice. I painted my fingernails red, to match my lips. I even gave my toenails a nice coat, never know, I might give my little boy a foot job. I picked out a perfume I thought he'd enjoy and gave my neck, between my tits and a dash of it between my thighs. I blew dried my hair, making sure it had some body to it to frame my face. As I was finishing up, looking into the mirror, I gave myself the once over. "Jesus, Beth, I think you look GOOD!"

Now for the outfit. I knew just the one. Stewart had given it to me for Valentine's Day last year and it produced the desired results he wanted. I chuckled, 'I bet it's father like son.' The sheer laced black panties went on first. I slipped the panties up my legs over my ass. I could still see my pussy slit through the thin fabric. Then the matching bra. I hooked the back up in front, turned it around, slipped my arms through the straps, adjusted the lacy cups over my tits it gave them that needed lift. As I put on the nighty, it made me feel naughty and with only a thin strap in front, I made sure the bow was easy to untie. I kept double checking myself in the mirror. 'You wicked little bitch.' I thought. I took out a pair of never worn black, silky sheer stretch knit, clingy, thigh high, stockings, with wide lacy thigh bands and sheer toes. They felt cool as I slowly pulled them up over my feet, up my calves and halfway up my thighs, making sure they didn't run. I rubbed my legs together loving the sensation of the silk on silk between my legs. I ran my finger over my legs and shivered thinking of Davey's fingers moving over them, up and down my calves and thighs.

I pulled my thoughts back to reality and stood up; I walked over to the closet, stopped. 'Which shoes?' There they were. A three-inch heel, black pair of sandals. A thin strap just above the ankle and another just above the toes. PERFECT! I sat back down at the vanity and slipped them on. I stood, picked up the short sleeved matching lacy robe, pulled my arms through and let it hang over my shoulders, open in front.

I moved back to look at the finished product. I held my breath. 'GOD, I do look like a woman that wants to be fucked.'

I glanced at the time, SHIT! It was almost 2. I quickly closed the bedroom, sat on the edge of the bed and waited for the sounds of Davey coming home.

Now my thoughts raced; "How should I do this? Invite him to come into my bedroom through the closed door? Leave the door open so he sees me when he passes? Wait till he showers and then...?' I liked that idea. A clean young 18-year-old boy, compared to a sweaty, stinky one. Then the idea came into focus. I smiled at myself.

Thank God, I didn't have long to wait so I could think myself out of this.

"MOM!" The call came from downstairs. I held my breath. Another call, "Mom?", not as loud, seemed to come from the bottom of the stairs.

I heard him bound up the stairs. Then a softer, "Mom?" at my closed bedroom door.

"Hi honey, I'm dressing. Be out in a few minutes."

"Okay, I'm going to shower." Then silence.

My heart was pounding in my chest. I took an uneasy breath. Counted to ten and walked to the door. Listened through it for a few seconds, heard nothing, then cracked it open and listened again.

Silence.

I waited, holding the door ajar. Then I caught a glimpse of Davey walking to the hallway bathroom, he was wearing his shorts and socks. His shirt was off. The door to the bathroom closed behind him. My heart still pounding in my chest. The sight of his bare back made me smile. Then I heard the shower turn on.

'Give it a second, Beth', I told myself.

'Now.'

I walked out of my room, across the hall and stepped into my son's bedroom. Clothes on the floor, thrown over his desk chair and his bed unmade, of course. I shook my head. Then smiled at myself. 'You're about to try and seduce your son and you're taking time to think he needs to clean and straighten up his room?!' I turned and closed the door.

I picked up some of the clothes on his bed, threw them onto his desk chair. Pulled up and straightened out his bed sheet and covers. I sat down, crossed my nylon stocking covered legs, felt their coolness on my thighs as the touched. I fluffed my hair a little, made sure my robe was open, put my arms to my side and my hands on the bed. I focused on the bedroom door.

My heart still reverberated in my chest. I took a deep breath. I couldn't hear the shower from across the hall with the door closed. I waited. I inhaled the perfume, the scent seemed to give me some strength and reassurance that this was the right thing to do. It was what I wanted, what I needed, what I deserved.

The doorknob started to turn and Davey stepped into the room. He had a large bath towel wrapped around his waist just below his belly button and he was drying his hair with another and at first didn't notice me. Then, through his forearms he saw me sitting on the bed.

He froze. He stopped rubbing the towel on his hair. His hands holding it in place on his head. His mouth agape, his eyes wide as he seemed to be taking me all in with one gaze.

I felt my pussy tingle and moisten at his reaction. His eyes focused not on my face, but now seemingly tracing and etching my form into his mind, taking in every inch of me, his mother.

"Ah-hum, yes?". I broke the silence.

He looked at me, stunned. His unmoving hands holding the towel on top of his head.

I slowly uncrossed my legs. His stare moved down to them, watching as I moved my feet together, then slightly apart. His eyes now transfixed on my legs.

He lowered his hands from the top of his head to his sides. One still grippng onto the towel now touching the floor.

I pushed myself up and stood by his bed. Our eyes met. I pulled the lacy, black robe open, gave it a little tug as it slipped off my shoulders, letting it slide down my back. Holding it briefly with my fingertips behind my nylon covered legs, before I let it fall to the floor around my heels.

I looked at Davey as he watched it travel off me. He then looked back up, our eyes meeting again for just a moment, then he looked at my body as I started to walk methodically to him, heel to toe, heel to toe, heel to toe. I was watching him take in my body with his eyes. When I was a foot from him, we locked eyes again. I looked at his young face. A few short whiskers around his chin. I didn't remember feeling them last night when he had his face buried between my thighs. I continued my up-close exploration of my son. His neck, his broad shoulders. I reached up and ran my fingers over them, they felt, warm and hard. My face now inches from his smooth, taut, skinned, hairless chest. My hands traveled down off his shoulders, I placed each palm on top of his nipples and lightly scaped my red coated finger nails across his chest, each leaving a slight mark on his toned skin.

I looked up at him, his eyes seemed transfixed on my fingers and how I was playing with him. I leaned my head forward, kissed the exposed chest between my hands, opened my lips wider to taste his clean, fresh scented skin with my tongue.

I moved my face back away from his chest. Not looking up, I bent my knees and slowly sank in front of him. Looking at his firm abs of his stomach, the precious indent of his bellybutton. My hands leaving his chest and following my eyes journey down my son's torso.

My knees touching the carpet the exact moment my eyes saw the top of the white towel tucked in around my Davey's hips.

My fingers slid over his abs, down his waist and rested on the top of the wrapped towel. I looked up at my Davey, our eyes meeting again, as my fingers pulled and then tugged at the terry clothed towel. He took a deep breath as it fell open and I dropped to the floor.

I closed my eyes, lowered my head. The moment I'd imagined, finally. Opening my eyes, I was looking at the thick base of my son's dick which was encircled by a closely manscaped crop of pubic hair.

I thought of his father's hairy covered area just for a moment.

Then I let my eyes take in the rest of my son's hanging down slack cylinder. I examined his gorgeous, young, firming cock. It had several uneven brownish colored rings around it. Its circumcised head was a smooth, perfect, helmet.

I thought, 'Dear God, I haven't seen my baby's penis since he was what, seven? It was the last time I gave him a bath and he seemed so embarrassed.'

I took my fingers and lifted his cock up pointing it at my face. It was limp and heavy in my hand. It's girth so wide my fingertips and thumb unable to touch. I could feel it expanding as blood continued to rush into it. The head started to turn a pinkish shade as it rounded out. I pointed the tip at my face and saw my son's pee hole from which I had tasted his re-cum from last night. I gave his cock a squeeze at the base and saw a drop forming at the tip.

His mother, kneeling before him. His thickening cock firmly in her fingers. Her mouth inches away from its head.

I looked up into my son's eyes as he was watching the scene unfold below him. I wondered what he was thinking, was he thinking that this all must be a dream.

I moved my face forward, my eyes looking upward focused on his face. I wanted to see his expression the moment my lips touched his cock. I puckered my red lips, moved my head an inch closer and kissed the tip of my son's precious penis, feeling the drop of his pre-cum on my lips, sucking it into my mouth and on to the tip of my tongue, its salty, sweet taste. His mouth opened wider; he took a deep breath. His eyes focused on my face. I took my fingers away from his dick, I parted my lips, moving them slowly over his now engorged cocks helmet. My cheeks indented as I sucked my son's cock head into my mouth. Looking up at my son's face. The only contact between us, our eyes and his cock in my mouth.

The head continued to expand and harden in my mouth. I kept my lips clamped firmly behind it. Licking up each fresh drop of pre-cum from his pee hole. I then grasped his stiffening member again with my fingers and now my fist started milking the pre-cum from his dick as if it were a cow's teat.

I pushed my face forward, still looking up at my Davey's face. Watching his eyes widen more as his young, swollen cock penetrated deeper into his mother's head.

The saliva in my mouth started to build as I moved lower onto his dick. When the tip touched the back of throat, I gagged, my lips released their grip and saliva drooled out of the bottom of my mouth coating my chin. My eyes tearing up from my son's head ramming into my throat.

I pulled back, my lips now firmly pressing down on his cock, sucking on it as I move my face back. My son looking down at me, he was standing still letting his mother work her mouth on his meat.

I held my fist loosely on the base of his cock and dipped my head up and down until I was sure his dick was at full stature. Our eyes locked together; I moved my head off his beautiful, rigidly shaped dick. I gave the pee hole one last lick, then moved took my fingers and bent the stiff pole up against his abdomen. Watching his face, I put the flat base of my tongue just above his ball sac and pressing my tongue into it slowly moved up the shaft until I reached the head. I moved down again and repeated it until I was satisfied. l reached with my other hand and cupped his ball sac in my fingers and on the next downstroke with my tongue, I kept going, washing and licking his balls, which were already wet from my drool.

I licked one and then the other, alternating back and forth. I kissed one and gently sucked it into my mouth.

Davey let out a moan, closed his eyes and titled his head back. My lips sucking on his nut as my tongue massaged it in my mouth.

I slipped my mouth of it and smoothly slid his other nut between my lips and repeated my gentle oral manipulation.

When I again had satisfied myself, I slid the flat of my tongue from the base of his cock just below the head. I moved my hand holding it against his abdomen and let it go. His rigid cock pointing straight out.

My eyes still looking at my son's face. I could fell the tears moving from the corners of my eyes, knowing they were stained with my mascara. Davey looked back down at me, as I started to kiss, lick and suck, first one side of his cock and then the other.

On my knees, in a praying position, I wasn't just making love to my son's cock, I was worshiping it.

I sucked the bulbous head of his cock back passed my lips and placed my fist again at the base of his cock. I then felt a wetness running down my legs and I inhaled the faint smell of my sex.

I reached down with my other hand, slipped my fingertips under my panties and pushed two fingers into my flowing cunt. I started to fist pump my son's dick as I sucked on his head. I moved my soaked fingers to my clit and started to move them to the beat of my fist on my baby's solid muscle.

He looked down at me, our eyes meeting.

"OHHHH GOD, MMMOMMMMYYYY!" his voice loudly stammering.

And the word 'mommy' sent my finger's plunging back into my pussy, to meet the orgasm it released. As my first spasm shot through me, my son's cock expanded in my mouth and a load of his hot jizz fired into the back of my mouth. I gulped down the whole wade of my son's sperm, with little more than an instance to feel the creamy texture and taste washing over my tongue.

My fingers continued to dig inside my pussy, as my second contraction was met by another load of his cum in my mouth. This load seemed larger and more forceful than the first. Filling me, with small globs escaping out the side of my mouth. I let myself enjoy the texture, warmth and taste before I swallowed and waited for his next discharge.

I could feel my pussy dripping down my knuckles now. My son and I climaxing together in incestuous harmony.

I continued to suck on his cock head, the next flow was not as large, but I was still hungry for its taste and sucked hard on the tip of his dick to feed my hunger.

My eyes clued to my son's face. His eyes closing then opening as he watched me suck and drain his cock. His dick inserted in his mother's head.

As our orgasms eased and slowly dissipated, Davey sighed and took a step back, pulling his now deflating dick from my mouth. I stared up at him, wandering what he would do now.

He looked at me, as I licked some cum with my tongue off the corners of my mouth. He reached down, put his hands under my armpits and lifted me off my knees. I was standing, unsteady in my heeled shoes. My knees felt weak and unstable. He lifted me up onto my tiptoes, lowered his face and kissed me gently but firmly on the mouth. I knew he could taste his own cum as he washed my lips, teeth, gums and my tongue with his own.

I put my hands on his shoulder's and returned the kiss. He lowered me down to my feet.

I took a few steps back then started to walk out of the room and without saying a word I put my hand out, took ahold of his and led him out of his bedroom across the hall to mine.