Caught in the Act - Pt. 02

If you want 10" cocks, women who orgasm in 10 seconds flat, simultaneous orgasms or gallons of cum then I'm sorry, but this is not the right story for you. I like to write about ordinary people with ordinary sexual appetites in slightly out of the ordinary situations. I try to keep the plot lines as near to reality as I can.

I try to keep the sex as true to my own experience as possible. I love to write about kissing, stroking, how sex feels and sex as an encounter which involves all the senses. I do like to 'get dirty' but only in the height of my character's arousal. All my stories have my own experience in them, but generally they are not autobiographical.

Part 1 of this story is inspired by a true story recounted to me by one of my readers, P. Thank you P, I hope you like the story. Part 2 (this part) is pure fiction.

Constructive feedback welcome. I am from UK, so UK spelling applies. Thank you for reading my story.

It is probably essential that you read part one of this story.

Act 1 -- In my own bed

So, I crept back to my room, uncertain as to whether Harry, my son, had seen me. That thought wasn't uppermost in my mind. My head was full of a desire to relieve myself, there was no room for regret or worry.

As I walked into my bedroom, I pulled off my t-shirt. I grabbed my favourite friend from my top drawer and climbed onto bed. I was so focused on relief that I had left my door partly open. Harry and I never completely closed our bedroom doors. I guess it dates back to when he was young and my maternal desire to care for him 24 hours a day.

I lay back and started. I like to start slowly with my hands rather then immediately use my vibrator. With my right hand I stroke my trimmed black pubic hair and with my left I lightly stroke my right nipple. I sighed with sheer contentment. I can't always achieve orgasm, but I knew I was going to tonight. My right hand continued to twirl in my public hair whilst making inexorable progress to the hood of my clit.

An electric shook tingled through my body as I pushed through the hood and onto my clit. I paused the journey south to take some time on my clit. She was pushing through her hood and coming out to play.

I moved south whilst continuing to caress my nipples. I reached my labia; wet to the touch, aching to be stroked. I split my fingers sliding one on each side down to my perineum and back up. I sighed again and relaxed further into the bed. My labia were soaking wet, and I used the palm of my hand to spread them. Exposing my love canal to the cool air. My hips involuntarily rose to meet my hand as I mashed my honeyed lips.

I strummed my clit gently with the fingertips of my right hand and reached for my friend with the other. I clicked him on, and he made his usual reassuring hum. I smiled, soon I would be in heaven. I lightly touched my clit with the vibrations, I thrilled to the touch but needed to move on to entry as too much vibration would make my clit feel numb.

I slowly slid my friend into my waiting hole. All the way until my walls were full of vibrating phallus. I paused and continued to strum my clit. I took my left hand off my friend and used it to gather honey from my labia. I closed my eyes and murmured a 'mmmmm'. I was full of 'cock' and using both hands to freely move about my clit and labia. I noticed a feint whiff of me, clean but sexy.

I was on my way. The train could not be stopped now, a powerful moment was building, and I would soon hit the buffers. .......creak.......... Oh fuck, that was the floorboard outside my room. I froze and frantically tried to switch my friend off. The room was silent as I switched it off. I was relieved when I heard the bathroom light being switched on and the door closing.

I was so horny. 'quick, quick' finish the job my pussy screamed. I obeyed my instinct, I couldn't help it. I switched my friend back on and proceeded to rhythmical push him in and out of my wet canal whilst continuing to strum my engorged clit. I prayed that Harry would stay in the bathroom.

I was close now and my hips had taken over some of the work of my hand in moving the 'cock' in and out of me. I changed the angle to get some vibration onto my g-spot. I moaned again. My head was full of my son's cock. That magnificent silky sheened steel erection. I imaged it moving in me. The masculine musky smell of it; It's natural oily lubrication.

I let go of the vibrator and concentrated with both hands on my clit and labia. My hips continued to twitch trying in vain to get the vibrator to move. I need clitoral stimulation to come so my canal would have to wait.

My right hand (still on my clit) was now a blur, as I heard the bathroom door open. I couldn't stop. I didn't want to stop. I was so close I could feel the tsunami tide going out in anticipation of the wave yet to come. The train was in sight of the buffers, I was going to crash into them.

My conscious mind was listening for the creaking floorboard. It didn't come. He was outside my room. He was watching. I didn't fucking care. I wanted orgasm. I wanted his beautiful phallus. I wanted him to see me. My pussy was facing him, my legs were open. I imagined him watching the humming cock in me and my fingers jilling me to oblivion.

I wanted him to see. I wanted to reward him for the earlier floor show. I wanted to show him that despite being his mum I was still sexual. The floorboard had not creaked, and I imagined him, cock in hand, willing me to orgasm.

I was still imagining his manhood stuffing me as I held my breath in anticipation of the wave that was about to hit me. I was still strumming but my left hand resumed moving my friend in an out of me. My hips jerked with the rhythm of the humming cock that was impaling me. I was so wet it made sloshing noises and then the first wave hit me.

I froze with my hips inches off the bed and the vibrating phallus humming. I held my breath as every muscle in my crotch pulsed with orgasm. I continued to hold my breath as the blood pumped in me, I could hear my heartbeat as my body shook. My crotch continued to pulse. Finally, I took a sharp breath and exclaimed "oh fuck".

My hips crashed back down to my bed, and I pulled out the 'cock'. I slowed the strum in anticipation of the second and third waves. I knew he was watching me. I was more measured now; certain I would orgasm again. I was feeling very horny; I was on show. The thought of my own son watching me slosh my labia and clit to orgasm was building tension in me again.

Even in the 1/2 light he could see into me. For the first time in his life, he could see every fold and crevice of me. All the things no son should see. My glistening labia, my clit poking out from its hood, my black pubic hair and my engorged nipples.

My head was full of the dirty theatre of me showing my son everything, the very essence of my sexual response. With all these thoughts I came again, more gently this time. I felt a beautiful warm wave wash over me and carry me out to sea. I was floating as my pussy gently pulsed again and again.

Finally, my hips twitched, sank into the bed and I softly moaned; 'mmmm'.

As I came down to earth and through my post orgasmic haze I heard the floor creak. He had gone to bed and at the same time proved he was watching.

Act 2 -- The next morning, a very British affair

I awoke the next morning, to my surprise, in a totally relaxed mood. I smiled when I remembered my wonderful orgasm; the best I had for some months. I tingled at the thought of the magnificant shiny erect phallus. In my mind it wasn't connected to my son. I felt no guilt, which amazes me to this day.

I admit I wasn't looking forward to seeing Harry. I knew (like me) he would be embarrassed. What we did was perfectly natural, thrilling even, but it shouldn't happen between mother and son. He should be doing that sort of thing with a lithe 18-year-old, not some middle-aged woman old enough to be his mother.........actually, his mother.

I was sitting at our kitchen table nursing a cup of coffee when Harry walked in. I didn't look up and said cheerily, "There's some coffee in the pot, Harry, it's still hot."

"Thanks, mum. Sleep well?" You may think this was a reference to last night and of course it might have been if not for the fact that this is what Harry invariable said as a greeting in the morning. "Yes, Harry, did you?"

"Like a log, mum." This was not what he normally said, and I looked up. It's hard to describe the look on his face. He was not grinning nor was he frowning. His face lacked expression except for the merest hint of a smile. It was nice and I echoed the expression back to him.

So British. We said everything we needed to say with the hint of a smile. No psychodrama, no 'lay it out on the table', just a little smile. Maybe we were coping out. Maybe we were too embarrassed. I don't know, but it felt right. It felt grown up. It was like we were saying to each other that we both have 'needs' and maybe we shouldn't fulfil each other's needs, but no harm was done.

He knew I had seen him. I knew he had watched me, but that was the end of that. No sexual tension, no discussion..... back to real life.

Act 3 -- a few weeks later

Harry has many friends, so I didn't see much of him for a few weeks. Whilst we are close, we live quite separate social lives. As it should be between mother and son. Despite it filling my head for a day or two, I had succeeded in putting our little adventure to the back of my mind

One night, a few weeks later, I had gone to bed early as I had an exhausting day at work. Harry was out with friends and wasn't expected back until late. Despite being tired I wasn't sleeping well. I was drifting in and out of a light fitful sleep when I heard Harry come in. IT was about 11pm. I remember thinking "he's a bit early", before rolling over and trying to get back to sleep.

I did drift off, just, but was woken by the TV. "Oh, Fuck Harry, can't you turn that bloody TV down" I said to myself as I tossed and turned, trying in vain to sleep. I was so desperate to get some sleep, I wasn't thinking about the adventurous night at all. I got up, shut my bedroom door, and got back into bed.

For 1/2 an hour (I know because I kept looking at the clock) I tried in vain to 'drop off'. It was no good, whilst the volume was a lot lower, there seemed to be a crash every time I was just about to drift off. I sighed; I would have to tell him to turn it down.

Just as I reached for the doorknob my head was filled with shiny rock-hard phallus. My eyes widened and I was now 100% awake. The sleepy part of me hoped he would not be masturbating, but (if I'm honest) most of me hoped he would be.

He was.

He same sight greeted me as I got to the banister. Oh, that glorious erect manhood. Shiny with precum, hard as steel. My son working his foreskin over his ample helmet. His forearms tense with effort. The strength and virility of the scene was making me wet. I stood there for what seemed like hours, transfixed, hypnotised by the magnificent cock.

He looked up. I froze to the spot. I saw his 1/2 smile out of the corner of my eye. I could not tear my gaze from his cock. I returned the half smile without looking at him in the eye. He reached for the TV remote, muted it, closed his eyes, and laid his head back.

The movement of his hand clashed with the almost strobe effect of the TV. It seemed like his cock was getting bigger. I noticed the moving shadow of his jacking arm on the wall. I could hear him groan and I could smell him. I have never seen anything so erotic in all my life and my pussy echoed the thought as a very tiny dribble of honey flowed down my leg until it evaporated just above my knee.

He was on the short strokes now and I was willing him to cum. I wanted him to cum for me, his mum. Finally he groaned and spewed cum over his chest. The strength of his orgasm meant some of it splattered on the sofa above his shoulder. I continued to watch as he slowed and finally stopped.

His bum sank back into the sofa, and he relaxed. He slowly moved his head toward me giving me ample time to retreat. I didn't and he opened his eyes. We stared deep into each other, expressionless. Then we swapped that very slight smile.

I turned and went back to my bed. I knew what I was going to do, and I guess Harry did too. I left my bedroom door wide open and pulled off my t-shirt as I approached my bed.

I was naked and had no time for a vibrator. I wanted relief and now!! I lay beck on my bed and with no lead up caresses, I went straight for my clit with one hand, while sloshing around my labia with the other.

My eyes were closed as I quickly settled into a moderate strumming rhythm. God, I was wet. Again, my head was full the sight of Harry's glorious cock being masturbated by a strong forearm. I heard the floorboard creak, I didn't open my eyes, concentrating on release.

I did not hear the bathroom light go on. Without breaking my rhythm, I opened my eyes and titled my head to the door. There was my Adonis, cock pointing to the ceiling, chest glistening with his own cum. My eyes widened but my fingers never missed a beat. I was on my way to another orgasm in front of my son. Whilst my eyes were locked with Harry, my focus drifted back to my needy pussy. I smeared honey all over my labia as my fingers were a blur over my clit. My hips twitched involuntarily as I reached the plateau. Thank fuck for that, I knew I was going to orgasm. I was going to orgasm for my son.

Then I noticed movement. Not wanking as I expect but walking!! Harry, cock in hand, was slowly and deliberately walking towards me. He held my gaze as he neared the foot of the bed. I continued to jill. He stopped to take in the sights, sounds and smell of me. Displaying all of my sex to my son. I was so wet he would be able to smell my honey. Smell how turned on I was. The pheromones would be pulling him closer. Making him want more. My pussy screamed for more.

He moved closer and I held my breath in anticaption. A small part of me wondered what he would do next, but mostly I was concentrating on the approaching tsunami. He moved forward and knelt on the bed between my wantonly spread legs. We still held each other's gaze, albeit that mine was through half closed eyes. I still didn't know what he was going to do but frankly I didn't care. I imagined him lapping at my pussy, eating me out as I orgasmed on his face, smearing my juice all over him.

He leaned forward and placed his left hand on the bed next to my head whilst still holding his cock. Then it hit me. He was going to fuck me. My simple world came crashing around my ears. This was just supposed to be mutual masturbation. Helping each other relieve sexual tension. I never once envisaged sex. Actually, not true; I did envisage sex with a wonderful cock, just not with my son.

He paused, still holding my gaze. I froze. I was naked, lying on my back with my legs apart exposing myself in all my glory to my son. He was over me, naked, with his warm steel-hard cock pointing towards his origin. My pussy screamed "fuck me". Mother shouted "no, not this". My body didn't move; like a rabbit stuck in the headlights. The world stood still as a titanic battle raged in my head.

Harry could gain no impression of this battle. As far as he was concerned; There was a naked woman below him, reeking of sex, wet with anticipation. This woman had masturbated for him twice. She did not move as he mounted the bed, didn't move as he towered over her. Didn't close her legs as he pointed his cock to heaven. He was a virgin, and this was it, his opportunity to be a man. His hormones didn't want permission they drove him on, but he didn't want rape. This was his mum and he loved her. He wanted to make love with her. He didn't want to 'take' her. This was why everything he had done was slow and deliberate giving her every opportunity to say "no". A "no" he would respect, even now as he was poised for copulation. He waited as his breathless but immobile mother lay beneath him.

My unresolved dilemma raged on. Every part of my sexual being wanted this man in me. The dirtiest part of me wanted my son in me, she wanted my son to fill me with his fertile seed. Mother was still chuntering on about consequences, society blah blah.

My body remained immobile. Harry's head moved, he looked down to his cock and my pussy. I followed his gaze; they were only inches apart. I had a hand covering my entrance, not out of any sense of protection, but because I had been using it to spread honey over my pussy lips. I became conscious of our breathing, the smell of my pussy, his armpits and his cum still on his chest. The world stood still. He was waiting for me. He was over me making his intentions clear. It was now up to me. My body ached for his cock, my soul wanted it in me, wanted us to move; make love in wonderful union. I wanted to be stuffed by my own son. This was so wrong, wasn't it?

My hand moved; the question was answered. I had given him permission. He looked up and our gaze once again locked as he lowered himself to me, guiding his cock to the place it should never be. My wet pussy lips kissed his virgin cockhead, and I felt a jolt of electricity. He pushed his head between my honeyed lips and into the entrance of my love canal. I no longer felt guilty I wanted the cock in me, deep in me. I pushed my hips up engulfing his cockhead into my wet love tube. He sighed, "oh god, yes."

We continued to stare into each other's soul as he pushed further into me, removing his hand to allow full penetration. Finally, he bottomed out in me. We didn't move almost unsure as to what to do next. I was full of my son's cock, did I really want him to cum in me? He had lost his virginity; did he really want to cum in his own mother? Yet again the world stood still.

We had done what no mother and son should; driven on by a primeval desire. Harry had impaled his own mother and I was a willing accomplice to this debauchery. It was if penetration was the endgame, and we were usure as to what to do next. My mind drifted to the wonderful feeling of being full of a rock-hard cock and I knew what I wanted. I wanted movement. While our gaze was locked, I put my hand on the back of his neck and slowly pulled him to me. We kissed so gently, our lips barely touching. I loved this man to the pit of my soul. I opened my mouth and licked his lips. I was tempting him; I was telling him what I wanted.

We started to snog; our tongues determined to enjoy each other's mouths. I was completely stuffed with hot iron cock and my hips, almost imperceptibly, moved against his body whilst we kissed like teenagers. With this action I was able to grind my clit into his pubic bone as the whole length of my pussy gripped him in a wet vice.

He withdrew virtually out of me. I felt so empty. I felt my labia claw at his cockhead. Then he thrust back into me powerfully, piston like. I yelped into his mouth as he hit my cervix. He slightly withdrew his head in concern, but I increased the pressure on the back of his neck. I didn't want him to stop I wanted him to fuck me slowly and deeply while we shared sloppy kisses. He obliged, again withdrawing from me only to fill me yet again.

His cock was everything I imagined. Long, wide and so very hard. At first it was big enough to be slightly uncomfortable, but I was quickly getting used to it, aided of course by the flood of lubrication my pussy was producing. I groaned into his mouth as he continued to fuck me slowly but powerfully. I thought "this boy is going to make someone very happy one day". My lips smiled through my kiss when I thought "this boy is going to make me very happy tonight".

Our hips were moving in perfect union as he continued to piston. I tilted my hips upwards to gain some traction on his cock. This had the effect of squeezing it against my pubic bone. He obviously liked this as he removed his lips, groaned and thrust into me harder. I yelped again. He looked down, slightly concerned. "fuck me, Harry"; I answered his concern.