A Mother's Nurture

Gently she leaned into him, snaking her arm around the back of his head and pulled him to her breast. With one final gaze, a search for approval, which she gave, Jason opened his mouth to accept her and clamped down gently over a nipple and began to suckle at her.

Sara's world melted away instantly. She forgot quickly where they were, let alone the tight confines of the car. Only Jason remained, sucking sweetly at her breast. Nothing came just yet. She wasn't even sure it would, but between her thighs she began to feel more than just her son's arousal.

Jason licked smoothly, swirling his tongue to lubricate the nipple, and with that she let out a gasp of delight and held him closer, whispering words of encouragement. 'That's it, just like that. Just relax and enjoy it...'

Jason's right hand relaxed on her backside, his left at the back of her thighs. Carefully he lifted her up higher so that he could bring her right up over his willing mouth where he wetly took more of her in. Only now he was breathing heavily and kissing her, teasing her nipple with his tongue.

Sara was experiencing such bliss that she didn't notice the transition from nursing to lovemaking, but soon enough he was attacking both breasts with a languid passion that had them both breathless and giddy. On that first night, however, she wouldn't acknowledge either that the sensation deep within her lower abdomen was sexual and not in any way motherly.

When she looked at the time, both breasts slick with saliva and blushing heavily, she was shocked to find that an hour had passed by. She leaned back, still very aware of his erection but choosing to ignore it, and asked if he felt better. Jason nodded slowly, disguising his excitement the best he could with a sombre expression.

'It's still okay if you want to keep doing this,' she then assured. 'In here, when your father's asleep.'

7

Monday night rolled around finally. For Jason it had been a surreal day, considering his grasp of the situation and his feelings for his mother, which he tried hard to reign in.

'Do anything over the weekend?' J.T. has asked. What could he say to that? "Oh you know, fixed a neighbour's car, nearly killed the old man... sucked on mom's titties!"?

When he finally came home after five, Tim was still on the road back, but mom was preparing the dinner in the kitchen. Showering as quickly as he could, to get the rest of the black grime off his hands, he went into the kitchen and greeted her with the same kisses and cuddles that they had always enjoyed.

The closeness was charged with greater chemistry this time. Without even realising it they both melted into each other's eyes and suddenly sensing it, Sara fell back against his gripping hands, in turn causing her pelvis to press against his. Again, he was hard. And again she said nothing.

'You're looking at me now just like you used to look at me when you were a boy,' she gushed. 'Such a heartbreaker - I hope you don't do that with every girl you meet.'

'You know I only have eyes for you, mom,' he replied casually. And he was going to talk about the night before, because he felt that he needed to ask questions. He had been left elated, excited even, but definitely confused in regards to other things.

Before he could, the door to the front of the house slammed shut and the telltale sign of dad's arrival sounded with his briefcase being dumped at the shoe rack by the porch. When he marched through the kitchen, right by them, such was the silence that it spoke louder than the bitterness most likely to exit his foul mouth.

He went straight to the drink, eyeing mother and son studiously and with a hint of suspicion, as if to ask what the hell they were looking at. And every time he saw them they were hugging like a pair of fucking hippies!

8

Jason was relieved to crawl into bed that night and to be met with the freshness of clean sheets. He got used to feeling dirty all day every day, his hands now growing callous due to their regular encounters with rust, dirt and oil. To feel clean and crisp was now a luxury by comparison, which he revelled in at every opportunity.

He went to bed early to watch a horror movie but didn't even get halfway in before he fell asleep, leaving the light and television on until past midnight. And again in the next room over his mother failed to find sleep, lying next to the drunken troll, so she slid out of bed and left the room again.

Jason stirred at the creak of the opening door, then again as his mother switched off the television. He finally opened his eyes to find her perched on the edge of the bed in her other housecoat, this one black. She was caressing his cheek and thumbing his brow softly.

'I'm sorry, I couldn't resist,' she apologised. 'You left the light and the TV on.'

'Sorry mom,' he said on the cusp of a great yawn and stretched. 'Was Shrek hogging the bed again?'

'Not so much,' she admitted. 'I was just thinking that if I woke you, would you want to go sneak into the garage with me for a moment...'

9

Sara was the last in, following Jason who had gone topless other than for the sweatpants he slept in. She closed the door behind them both, quietly, and then asked him to lift her up onto the worktop again like he had the Sunday. Again, Jason took her by the waist and picked her up with ease, gently setting her down so that they were face to face, her thighs parted to allow him closer to her.

'Give your mom a kiss,' Sara commanded and held out her arms to wrap around his neck. Jason leaned in to meet her lips and they did the same as they always did, back and forth like affectionate little chimps.

'I love you so much and I wouldn't change you for the world,' she assured.

'Me too, mom,' Jason said and kissed her again.

'And I can never have enough of you, your kisses and your cuddles,' she added, pulling him closer and nibbling his lower lip. 'Do you want to nurse from mom again?'

'Yes please,' Jason reacted, feeling himself grow against her instantly. When she opened up her housecoat to reveal that she was wearing nothing underneath, he nearly lost his footing.

Sara leaned back, holding her weight on one hand as she held her son by his neck and directed him to her nakedness. This time he didn't look to her for certainty. And he didn't try to milk her either. The moment his lips and tongue were latched onto the first nipple, he had his hands wrapped around her hips and he was aiming to pleasure her.

Hissing and panting, hissing and panting, Sara dared herself to release a moan from between her gritted teeth but regretted it the moment it recalled loud across the garage. 'That's my boy,' she cooed, ruffling his hair and mashing her face right into her fulsome breasts. 'You can suck on them harder, go on, you won't hurt me!'

Time dissolved once again. The garage, cool and dry in the late night air, lay host to the sounds of their heavy breathing and Jason's loud kissing and suckling. He was handling her breasts with both hands, gently squeezing them and teasing her hard nipples with wet lips, circling her aerola slickly with the tip of his tongue then lapping at her.

And all the while she could feel the pressure rising up from the butterflies playing in her tummy. It was not fair just how wet she was, all the while being loved so passionately by her own flesh and blood.

'Okay, that's enough for now,' she urged, fighting back the new urges arising while she still could. 'Come up here,' she reiterated after he ignored her to carry on, and pulled his face up to hers.

Their lips were barely an inch apart when she searched his eyes to see if he understood the importance for their secrecy, and maybe if he saw in her eyes what she refused to say in words.

'I got carried away, didn't I?' he asked.

'No, not you,' she said sheepishly. 'Just kiss your mom and don't worry about it.' So he did, wondering what dad would do if he came in to find them both mostly naked and kissing the way they were.

10

Sara maintained that so long as her son wanted to, they could continue to sneak into the garage every night where he could "feed" from her breast. She knew that the line between nurturing and sexual was thin and easily blurred.

After that second night, where she further instigated the encounter between them, she felt that she had forced the situation onto Jason. That wasn't good. It needed to be him coming to her, so she told him that next day.

'If you want to, come to me when your father goes to sleep and ask me and I will be there for you. And,' she didn't know what made her say the next part, 'we don't even have to do that. We could just kiss and cuddle and talk and be closer to each other in other ways.'

Jason didn't know what those other ways were for sure, but he took a few days to think about it and put it to one side while he wrestled with the reality of what they were doing and what it might have meant.

Were they falling for each other? They were already as in love as a mother and son could be. They didn't ever have the lives of so-called ordinary people. Dad made sure of that. They counted on each other dearly to get through the ordeal of their own personal reality.

And like hell was he ever going to leave his mother just so that Tim - who treated his own wife and his flesh and blood like the hallucinations of a rock-bottom drunk - could completely let go of his own standards and leave her life a living hell.

No, the reality was that they were expanding, because no family could survive on such a narrow foundation, not in the least one that was being bogged down by such hateful misery. They felt anything but misery when they were together.

Their expansion brought with it excitement, danger, arousal... living!

11

ONE WEEK LATER...

Tim dragged himself through the front door, the darkened evening behind him, and threw his suitcase onto the floor. The carpet there was mangled and balding where he had dropped his case every weekday evening since they last changed it. And yet he regarded it as his wife's problem, meeting it with the same old disdain as everything else, before flipping off his shoes and ragging the tie from around his neck!

Work was getting worse. His performance, specifically, was getting worse, and with that came humility, which he was not known for. And so he was doing more overtime - actual work overtime - not because he was fucking another secretary, but to cover up his own mistakes.

When he marched, sore-footed, into the kitchen, he could barely mask his outrage for the fact that his wife and son were sitting before used plates, without even stopping to acknowledging his presence. It was as if time had moved on without him.

'Already eaten have you?' he remarked. 'Is mine ready?'

Jason craned his head to measure the rattiness in his dad's expression against that which was in his voice, then looked away to stifle a sigh. Sara sat back, raised her eyebrows into a question - excuse me for breathing? - and pointed across the way.

'It's in the oven. Probably ruined since you didn't call to tell me you were staying late.'

Feel the burn you horrid bastard, Jason thought to himself. Meanwhile Tim ignored his mother, fixed himself a drink and sat down at the head of the table. 'How's work then, son,' he strained.

'Work's going very well,' Jason offered.

'Jason treated us tonight. We had a pork roast with all of the trimmings and a bottle of chilled wine,' Sara explained proudly. When she went to get up, Jason insisted that she stay seated and went to fetch the dog's dinner instead.

With a damp towel he set the hot plate down in front of his father and remarked, 'here, don't burn yourself,' which left Tim both angry and speechless; right before he went to turn the plate around in his needless inspection, and then burned himself.

'Fuck's sake, it's hot!' he shouted, shaking his fingers madly before lifting a trembling whiskey glass to his lips. Tim had a problem. Tim had that problem for a long time. But now it was clearly evident that Tim was no longer in control of that problem. That problem, Tim's drinking, was controlling him now.

It was midnight before he finally drank himself unconscious. Jason was at least forgiving enough to hoist him up and drag him into his parents' bedroom where he would starfish the night away and no doubt awaken ready to ruin his job another day.

He found mom in the garage when he came back down, and didn't know what to expect from her, or if she was expecting anything of him.

'What I've been doing with you here,' she said cautiously, 'I've not just being doing it for you, have I?' she asked. 'I've been doing it for myself. I'm probably a very bad mother. I probably shouldn't be doing this at all.'

'You don't have to do anything,' Jason assured carefully at a distance.

'But I want to,' she said. 'Don't you?'

'Yes.' He stifled a laugh, partly in disbelief. She knew damn well he was into it probably more than she was. Even if they did have to sneak around, so long as it gave him his mother, and brought her closer, then he was happy to say the least.

'What's so funny?' she asked.

'Nothing,' he said and laughed again, this time hopelessly. 'Mom, I love you, and whatever you need, I'm here for you. But shall we clean up that living room before we say anything else?'

'I can do that tomorrow morning,' she insisted. 'Is there something else you'd rather do; with me, right now?'

And there it was again, that look in her eyes like an on switch had been flipped and the current was surging. It made his heart flutter and immediately his mouth watered in anticipation. He swallowed and asked what she had in mind.

'If you could do anything right now,' Sara pushed back. 'With your mom, and nobody else would know. I'm feeling bold. Tell me!'

A thousand images flashed before Jason's mind all at once, most of them more graphic than words could describe in the heat of the moment. There was what his mind wanted, what his heart wanted, and then what he wanted for his mom more than anything. And his mom, more than anything, needed to feel loved.

'I love all the kissing we've been doing,' he said.

'But we've already done plenty kisses and we always will,' she countered.

'But I'd really love to make out with you.'

'Wow...'

'Yeah...'

'So,' she thought hard, 'not like a mother/son kiss, but a lovers' kiss? You'd want to do that with your mother?'

'Only because my mother is you,' Jason replied. Sara's smile was gone, replaced by something darker and wanton, but for the gleam in her eyes. She too swallowed hard and then brushed her fingertips over her lips, not once breaking eye contact with the young man in front of her.

'Well what are you waiting for?' she begged.

'And in my bed,' Jason added.

'Really,' Sara responded in a sultry manner.

'I'm not letting you sleep on the couch tonight, mom,' he said.

'On one condition, then,' she concluded. And she didn't have to think long on what that condition would be.

12

Jason did as he was told. It wasn't so much a condition as it was a stipulation and one that left his mind reeling with wonder, because it begged the question whether the trust between them was at its strongest or whether it had flown out through the window.

His bedroom was dark now, all but for the small bedside lamp, and he lay comfortably in his king size bed, beneath the sheets, with his eyes closed as instructed. Sara's feet barely made a sound as she padded barefoot across the floor towards him, and then the mattress depressed and she was in the bed right next to him, bare skin on skin.

The moment he felt her warm, smooth flesh touch up against his, Jason began to rise to the occasion and as he opened his eyes, there she was gazing into his eyes with wondrous adoration and nervous excitement.

'Okay lover-boy,' she whispered and joined him in an embrace of soft bodies and entwining limbs, and their mouths opened to couple like never before. Instantly their tongues lapped over one another, swirled and danced and wet lips pursed and smacked deliciously. Then she pulled away breathlessly and giggled quietly before returning for more.

'My god this feels amazing,' Sara panted in between long, exquisite smooches. She could have instantly given herself to him there and then if he weren't her own. But however things had escalated to this point between them, it felt right; it felt so beautifully necessary and her own son made her feel like the most loved woman on earth.

They made out, or were they making love now - caressing and kissing, pulling one another into each other - for what seemed the whole night. It felt heavenly to feel him touching her breasts the way he did, with strong masterful hands, and to caress her bottom as her thigh brushed across his hip. Once or twice he put his hand lightly over her hot hairy pussy. She had to come to her senses and fight the urge to let him slip in, to remove his hand and to place it back on her butt or her boobs.

Only an hour passed before she decided something needed to be done about the impossible hardness that had gone from rubbing hotly at her lower belly to sliding occasionally up against a place he had never been since the day of his birth. Otherwise he might keep reaching down to play with her sex.

She asked if she could touch it. He told her that she could, so long as he could touch her. That wasn't part of the condition, she told him, but she wanted to relieve the frustration she was causing him.

'That has to be mutual though, mom,' he insisted.

'That would turn into sex, Jason. Do you really think we should go there?'

He didn't dare say what he felt then because he wanted her to be in control and for her to tell him that she wanted to. 'I should be so lucky,' he said and nuzzled into her.

Sara moved him onto his back and manoeuvred onto her side and into a half-sitting position, eyeing up the tent pole hidden beneath the sheets at his waist level. This was something that didn't happen every day, she thought, or ever.

She leaned over him, getting in close, until her right breast was directly over his face and told him to suck on it and to just enjoy himself. Bit by bit, she used her left foot to drag the sheet down until she was met with the wonderful sight of his standing glory. And her first thought was immediately how deliciously easy it would slide deep into her soaking pussy at that point.

Instead she reached down and wrapped her hand around him, gently easing down the foreskin to reveal all and told him how beautiful he was. And he was a good two inches longer than her entire foot. She might even need a little something wet to help the gliding motion of her hand all the way up and down, because she was going to tease him for as long as she could and test her boy's endurance.

Not only could Jason last. She had never seen so much come spurt out of such a big cock in her life. The ultimate sinful seed, in the grand erogenous zone of her mind, had been sown. And she slept with him that night like she hadn't in years!

13

It all came to a head the next day. God only knew how Tim managed to come around from his booze induced coma on time, or thankfully how Sara managed to wake up next to her son after barely more than two hours' sleep. They met on the landing, like cowboys at high noon, and Sara was at least dressed to some degree.

The look in Tim's eyes was that of a wounded, shameful animal, like a dog that had received the belt of its owner. But in his world, he was the owner of everything. 'What,' he implored miserably as she stood there wondering what he might do. She didn't answer him, at least with anything other than a pitiful look.

'Come on, woman,' he snapped. 'What's your game?'

'Just once I'd like to deserve the way you speak to me, you pathetic fucking creature,' she spat.