An Accident, The Internet, A Hotel

"Fuck I came hard!!!" he said in his message. Then he quickly replied to mine, asking what time I would be online the next day. I wrote back saying probably the same time, and he said that would work for him, too.

"See ya then!" I said, waving to the camera.

"Bye!"

Then I blew him a kiss and logged out.

God, I couldn't believe I'd just masturbated with my son. Then I chuckled and shook my head, thinking it wasn't exactly the first time for that. But I also felt a sense of relief. It wasn't so bad, what we did. It wasn't as though we didn't know what we were doing this time. In fact, in a way, it almost made me feel a little closer to him, as though our relationship had expanded. Not so much changed, as it was more modified. I almost felt elated.

The next morning, I rushed around the bedroom, trying to find something a bit sexier to wear for him. I found a lacey push-up bra and a pair of pink thongs with only a tiny triangular patch of fabric covering my vagina. Over this I wore my usual shorts and t-shirt, and then headed down to my office in the house.

I had my camera on, while I waited for him, and then he arrived. My heart began racing and my knees wobbled. We chatted briefly, but we both knew why we were there. I asked if he was ready to have fun again, to which he replied with an enthusiastic "Hell yes!!" This time, however, I was more deliberate in removing my clothing. I'd take off my shirt and let the image of my breasts, the nipples just poking up over the edge of the bra, get him excited. Then I had him beg me to remove it, as well as my shorts and panties. To be honest, I was just as eager to get naked as he was for me to do so. And when I was completely nude in my chair, we chatted for a few minutes.

"Can you lick your nipples?" he asked.

I chuckled and looked up at the camera atop my monitor, rolling my eyes. He laughed, but then I sat back and scooped up one of my breasts and tried to lean down and lick it. I'm only a decent B cup, so there isn't much leeway for such carnal acrobatics as that, but I managed to get close enough.

"That's REALLY sexy!!" he exclaimed happily.

I laughed, replying, "Well, either my tongue isn't long enough or my boobs aren't quite big enough for that!"

"You have really cute boobs!" he said.

I smirked, saying, "Oh? They're just 'cute'? Gee, thanks. :P" Then I glanced up at the camera and stuck out my tongue. Mark laughed once again and said he thought they were sexy. "That's better," I typed with a chuckle.

I let one hand drop between my legs, and then asked if he was getting hard.

"Been hard for a while!!" he said.

"Mmm," I replied. "Wish I could see that! ;)"

"Me, too."

Just then, my stomach fluttered. The words simply came out on their own, but now that I thought about it, I really wasn't opposed to the idea. My fingers slipped across my wet clit, sending a gentle spark through my body. I closed my eyes and sighed. When I opened them, Mark had sent me a message.

"Is your pussy wet?"

I looked up at the camera and nodded, smiling dreamily. Then I brought my hand to my mouth and licked my fingers.

"How's it taste?" he asked.

"Mmm," I replied. "Delicious!"

"You like tasting yourself?"

Once more, I looked at the camera and grinned, licking my fingers seductively for him.

And as I continued to play with myself, his next message nearly made me erupt into an orgasm.

"I'd love to taste you," he said.

I slumped back in my chair and groaned loudly, spreading my legs wide. I was getting closer to orgasm and, in my delirium, asked if he would have rather had me suck him off that night, instead of using my hand?

"YESSS!!!!" he exclaimed.

Teetering on the brink of orgasm and barely capable of typing, I hastily replied, "I'd love to feel you cum in my mouth." Then, just before it struck home, I added, "I'd swallow for you."

That's when my orgasm took over. I managed to have a moment of clarity in thought, and quickly reached for my mouse, clicking on the sound, allowing Mark to hear me in the throws of passion, as well as watch me.

I moaned loudly, humping against both my hands, one fingering myself deeply while the other stimulated my clit.

"Oh fuck," I cried. "...oh fuck, I'm cumming!"

I opened my eyes just in time to see Mark say he was cumming, as well. I smiled and threw my head back, holding my legs out wide so he could get the best possible view.

When my orgasm finally subsided, I sat in the chair with my arms hanging down to the side limp and my legs straight out.

"Fuck!" came a message from him. "That was HOT!"

I managed a weak grin and tried to raise my hand to wave. Then I sat up and, with much effort, pulled my chair to the desk. Just as I started typing, Mark sent me a message.

"Is your pussy all red and wet?"

I chuckled and glanced up at the camera, giving him a wicked smile.

"Wanna see for yourself?" I asked.

"YES" he replied eagerly.

I stood from my chair and took a step back, and then reached for the camera, trying to hold it steady, as I brought it down. I moved my chair to the side and put one leg on the seat, slowly bringing the camera down and angling it up so he could get a good view between my legs. With my free hand, I spread myself open for him.

"Fuck, that is sexy as hell."

With the camera still down there, I slipped my index finger inside me and held myself open for him.

"Shit that is smoking hot," he said.

I carefully raised the camera, setting it atop the monitor, and then looked directly at it and smiled, sticking my index finger in my mouth and swirling my tongue around it. Then, once again without any forethought, I typed, "Bet you wish that was your hot cock inside me, huh?" I hit send, and then remembered to whom I had said that.

"... oh damn..." I mumbled.

To my relief, Mark only winked in reply. Still, I felt like perhaps I'd gone a bit too far in saying that in our little online game. After all, to me, that's what this was: nothing more than a silly role-playing excursion. However, in saying that, I added a bit more realism, and perhaps even sincerity, to it.

We chatted for a few more minutes, though it was rather cute when he asked me not to put my clothes back on so soon afterwards. God, I felt like a high school girl all over again. I bit my finger and giggled and asked him why?

"Cuz you look sexy like that!" he said.

"Ya think so?" I asked coyly.

"Hell yes!"

"Alright," I replied. "Maybe I'll sit here in the buff for ya. How'd that suit ya?"

"Just great!" he said.

So we talked for a short time, and once in a while, I'd let one of my hands slide across my breast, pausing for a moment to pull on the nipple, keeping it nice and erect for my audience of one.

Before our little session of erotic fun ended, he once again complimented me on my looks. I couldn't help but blush and thanked him.

Later while I was taking a shower, I had an idea. I got out and dried off, and went down to find our digital camera. Every now and then, I'd take a few pictures for my husband and send them to him at work; just a little something to brighten his day. Sometimes I was naked or partially so, and other times they would merely be pictures of me clothed around the house. I decided to send Mark a few.

I had a closet full of different types of lingerie, so I took pictures of me in several of them, also in various stages of undress. After I had filled up the camera, I took it down to my office and uploaded them to my computer, and then emailed a few to him. A couple hours later, while checking my mail, I got a reply from Mark about my pictures.

"What a sexy redheaded babe! :D"

I giggled and blushed, and then sent him a few more and said thanks for the nice compliment.

For about the next two weeks, we'd make it a habit of meeting online at certain times of the day to have fun. And our conversations grew progressively more explicit, until we were finally talking about what we wanted to do with the other person. But it almost always reached its crescendo once we hit orgasm. After that, it petered out quite a bit. That sort of became the unwritten rule of our game: leading up to and during orgasm, you could say whatever you like, but afterwards, we toned it down a lot more; things went back to normal. And it got to the point where, in a way, as odd as it may seem, I really didn't think of it as my son on the other end, but just this really sexy guy I knew. And another strange benefit was that it made me much more sexually aroused by the time my husband got home from work. I already had quite a libido, but doing this with Mark seemed to amplify it. My husband and I had a very active sex life, as it was, but this was like giving it a shot of adrenaline. There were times when I couldn't wait for him to come to bed and fuck me. And there were also times when I didn't wait. Once he stepped inside the house, I'd drag him to the bedroom and throw myself at him. He never complained, either.

One day, after getting off with Mark, I was putting my bra back on, when he asked if I was coming for a visit soon. I tried to make it a habit of going at least once a month, and it was about that time again.

"Sure!" I chirped happily. Then I had to think about it. It was one thing to play this game online with someone, but something else entirely to actually meet face-to-face. Not that I ever had or would, but my weekend visits were fairly routine. I enjoyed them, often looking forward to them, and I kept telling myself that I didn't want this game to adversely affect our relationship. If I didn't go, that's what would happen. He and I would both know the reason I wasn't coming to visit. And, eventually, he'd be coming home at some point, whether for a holiday or weekend trip of his own. I'd have to bite the bullet on this one. The ball was in my court and I'd have to act. If I wanted to maintain some semblance of normalcy, then I'd have to force it in that direction, something that at one time, before we started engaging in this behavior, had come naturally.

The following Saturday afternoon, I drove up to Mark's school. The entire way there, I was a bundle of nerves. How would we react upon seeing each other, given what we had been doing? Though it had bothered me terribly, from the beginning, what I had done with my own son nearly a month ago in his room, I also came to enjoy this new aspect of our relationship that had suddenly blossomed out of it. But it didn't simply come to fruition of its own accord. The seed may have been inadvertently sown, but a great deal of conscious effort on both sides had gone into enriching and propagating it. Although I was scared to see him in person, part of me was also excited about it; excited about the possibilities. But I tried not to think on it. I just knew, the more I dwelled on it, the more likely I'd turn around and go home. So I rationalized going on the basis of maintaining our relationship, but deep down, I also knew I had an ulterior motive. To be on the safe side, however, before driving to his resident hall, I stopped at a hotel I occasionally stayed, and got myself a room for the night, then drove over to see Mark.

I parked on the street across from his building and walked inside. The entire way to his room, I felt light-headed and my stomach was a churning and twisting knot. By the time I knocked on his door, my palms were sweaty. When he opened the door and greeted me with a broad smile, I wanted to vomit. Thankfully, I didn't, though it felt like a very distinct possibility.

"Hey!" he exclaimed happily, gesturing for me to come in. I smiled and stepped inside, wringing my hands nervously and trying to look normal and happy. When he shut the door behind me, I whirled around. Something about the sound of the door shutting seemed very definitive, like the start of a new chapter in a book.

Mark went to his tiny dorm room refrigerator and pulled out two sodas, offering me one. I took it and sat on the edge of his bed, while he pulled the chair out from his desk. I took a sip and glanced at him, smiling. He opened his can and grinned in reply. As he held the can to his mouth, my eyes drifted behind him to his desk. His computer sat directly behind him; the same instrument by which we had engaged in numerous taboo acts. I also knew that inside that computer were dozens of pictures of me nude and sexually pleasuring myself; pictures I had taken exclusively for him. Pictures I had hoped would sexually arouse him, my own son. I felt my face turning red and quickly looked away, letting my eyes roam around his room.

"So, what's the plan?" he asked, breaking the long silence.

I rotated the can of soda between my fingers, staring down at it, and shrugged. "Dunno," I replied. "Guess it's up to you." I brought the can to my lips and took a sip, glancing at him from the corner of my eye. He smiled, saying he was up for anything. I couldn't bear another uncomfortable silence, so I asked if he wanted to see a movie. It was that, and then we went to dinner afterwards.

Hours later, as we walked out of the restaurant, the sun was just now setting below the horizon. The evening was still young, and Mark asked if I wanted to do anything else. I stood next to him, with my arms folded on my chest and shrugged.

"Ok," I stammered softly.

"Wanna go play some pool?" he asked.

I shrugged and nodded. I wasn't very good at it, but enjoyed it all the same. And it would keep us busy; keep us moving, avoiding those awkward moments of silence where our minds could dwell more easily on who it was we were with and what kind of relationship we now had with that person; that is to say, a rather intimate one.

We walked to a nearby bar and went inside, finding a pool table far in the back. Near the front of the place was a dance floor, quite empty given the early nature of the evening. But as time passed and daylight gave way to night, more and more college kids entered and soon the bar was crowded to capacity, loud and smelling of beer, cigarettes, and sexually charged appetites. Mark and I shared a single glass of beer, though I never really cared for the taste of that beverage. Still, it served to loosen me up, and very soon we were both laughing and enjoying each other's company as usual, as though nothing had ever changed. And when the last ball on the table had been sunk, we set our cues up on the rack and made our way to front of the bar.

I tugged on Mark's sleeve and he bent down.

"Wanna dance?" I nearly yelled in his ear, given the intense volume of lively chatter and music going on all around us. He smiled and nodded, so I grabbed him by the hand and pulled him through the crowd to the dance floor. Young men and women were moving wildly about, and very quickly Mark and I joined in.

The heavy thumping of the music always had a hypnotic effect on me, and I soon found my mind drifting in that direction. Mark and I danced very closely, given that the dance floor was small and quite crowded. Our bodies rubbed against one another and, as the music carried me away, I became less inhibited, slithering my torso against him and letting my hands roam up and down his body. With his hands on my waist, I rotated my body between them, facing away from him, and ground my ass against his groin. To my delight, I thought I could feel him pressing back into me. Then I wiggled downward against him and he kept his hands in the same position, though now moving up my body as I descended. I stopped when he was cupping my breasts and grinned in the dark, putting my hands atop his and giving them a gentle squeeze. And when I arose, he kept his hands there. I once more rotated my body so I was facing him and placed my arms on his shoulders, smiling up at him. Then I put one leg between his and slowly started grinding down against it. In the darkness, I thought I could see him smiling.

I don't know how long we were out there dancing, but it seemed like quite a while. I'd never danced like that with him before, and it felt exhilarating to do so for the first time. And like those young people hopping around me and dancing to the music, the erotic atmosphere was sexually charging me.

I reached up for Mark's collar and pulled him down to my face. Merely by accident, our faces were nearly touching, our lips very close. We both smiled and I leaned in toward his ear and asked if he wanted to leave. He leaned back and nodded. I grinned and took him by the hand, making our way out of the crowded bar.

Outside, in the cool night air, we walked back to my car, our arms around each other. I was feeling good, very good. And very sexually aroused. My mind began racing, thinking of the possibilities that lay before me now. But the clock was ticking. I had to make up my mind what would happen next, by the time we got to the car. I would either take him back to his room, dropping him off, or drive us back to my hotel. Once more, I was beginning to sweat and became a bundle of nerves.

As we stepped into the car and shut our doors, I started the engine. "Where to now?" he asked. I pulled out onto the street and drove up to the next intersection. The light was red. When it turned green, I had to make a decision: turn right and take him to his room or left and back to my hotel room. My fingers gripped the steering wheel tightly and I glanced at him. Mark smiled and I grinned sheepishly in reply, quickly looking forward again. The light turned green.

"So?" he asked. "Where ya wanna go next?"

The car behind us honked, bringing me back to my senses. I stepped on the gas and made a left hand turn.

Neither of us spoke, as I drove to the hotel. He knew I stayed there sometimes and he probably knew why I was driving in that direction. In the back of my mind, I was hoping he wasn't wondering why I was taking him with me.

My room was on the first floor, the door facing out toward the parking lot. I parked in front of my room and we both exited the car in silence. Standing by the door, I fumbled momentarily with the key and finally managed to open it. As I stepped inside and set my wallet on the credenza, a sudden thought flashed through my mind: would he know to lock the door behind us? Or would he even do so? I didn't want to turn around and look, so I quickly went to my overnight bag and set it upon the bed, opening it. Mark quietly sat down on the edge of the bed next to me, while I fumbled around inside my bag, doing nothing in particular, simply trying to keep my hands otherwise occupied while I tried to think of what to do next.

Mark leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together, as he watched.

"Whatcha doin'?" he asked.

My hands began trembling, but thankfully they were buried inside my bag, so he couldn't see them.

"Gonna take a quick shower," I mumbled, my voice cracking.

So now that I knew what I wanted to do next, I forced my hands to search for my bath items. That's when I felt something against my leg. The trembling in my hands had now ascended to my arms. Without making it obvious, I glanced to the side and saw Mark's arm extended. It was him. He was touching me. He slowly ran his hand up and down my leg.

"This ok?" he whispered very softly.

My eyes quickly darted back to the bag, and my head jerked up and down. "Mm hm," I squeaked nervously.

I felt his hand slowly rise up the back of my leg under my short skirt. Higher it went until he was gently cupping the cheek of my ass. And when I felt his fingers squeeze softly, an involuntary sigh slipped past my lips. I quickly fished my bath stuff from the bag and glanced down at him.

"I'll be right back," I stammered, and made my way to the bathroom.

Inside, I set my soap and shampoo on the bathroom counter and began undressing. I looked up and saw the door still open. Should I close it? I didn't bother. I was in a hurry to get in the shower and hide. I unzipped my skirt and let it fall to the floor, and then pushed my panties down to join it. As I held my chin against my chest, watching my hands fumble with the buttons of my blouse, I noticed a movement behind me. I looked up and saw Mark's reflection in the mirror. He was standing behind me in the doorway. I quickly grinned sheepishly and looked down at my hands, still working the buttons.