Clarissa

Slowly, ever so slowly, Clarissa's senses began to return. Her eye-lids fluttered and she opened her eyes. She looked up at the ceiling, wondering why something so ordinary felt so wrong? She groaned, her head buzzing like a hangover headache, but that only lasted a short while. She suddenly had the feeling that someone was in the room with her, and pushed herself up onto her elbows to look around. But the room was empty, the subdued light from the hall outside her bedroom filtered in through the slightly open door, plus the fact that it was still not completely dark outside, allowed her to be sure she was alone.

She looked down at herself, the thrusting twin mountains of her breasts, rose and fell softly. Not so soft however were her nipples, the darkened colour of their flesh was in stark contrast to the golden orbs that they rose from. She noted her breasts were glistening with the sweat of heavy exertion, but was not surprised. The wet, latex erection between her thighs, caught her attention next, sticking up skyward, proudly capable of giving her more abuse, should she wish it. She could feel her pussy had made good use of it already, and bore witness still, in its gaping wetness; having been penetrated by the eight-inch pussy-stretching girth. It mattered not to her that she had broken her long run of abstinence, it was the recollection of the fantasy, that had brought her to the point of collapse, that bothered her all the more. "Oh, no, Clarissa, how could you even think about doing......your...son....doing that?"

Her door creaked, making her sit up quickly, and grab for her quilt. But it was just the breeze from her slightly open window. She relaxed back down, clasping her stocking covered thighs about the erect phallus, the wet glistening head of which, rose erotically triumphant, from the top of her legs, seemingly pleased at where it had been and what it had done and evidently up for more of the same. She giggled like a young girl, playing with a penis for the first time. Grateful that she had had this time to herself. She looked across at her bedside clock. It was only eight-thirty, Chris would not be back for some time yet. Her mind questioned her body, as to whether it was ready, or indeed wanted, any more of the same? As she squeezed the phallus between her legs, she knew what the answer was and got up from the bed, carrying the pseudo man to her full-length mirror, to stick it where her husband had first introduced her to it. She felt the instant fire begin again in the pit of her stomach as she looked upon the cock, only this time, it wasn't attached to some amorphous man in her fantasy, in her head, it was clearly her son's cock.

She knelt upon the carpeted floor, in supplication before the large erection. "What do you mean you want me to suck your cock, Chris? I am your mother, it is inappropriate.... You are big though, bigger than your father......why do you want me to suck you, don't you have a girlfriend that can do that? Oh, I see, you do have a girlfriend, but it is my lips you long for about your phallus. And is it hard because you like seeing me in this lingerie? Is it hard because you want to fuck me?"

Clarissa vocalised her fantasy, playing out what was running around in her head, then placed her cherry lips close to the wonderfully shaped head of the latex phallus before whispering. "I've wanted to suck you too Chris, for longer than you can know, but if I do this, you cannot speak of it, you cannot tell your girlfriend that your mother sucked you off." Her lips slid over the head, and she allowed her tongue to run over the large intrusion as she sucked at her juices, the sweet taste an aphrodisiac for her. "Ohhhh Chris, you taste divine. How could you have withheld this beast from me?" With her tongue running along the base of the cock, she allowed it to slip down her throat, her lips finally contacting the base. She did not gag at all, which surprised her, as she had not taken a cock in her throat for some time. Her slurping and moaning as she pleasured her son's cock increased until she could take no more. She pulled from the monstrous phallus, her saliva dribbling down her chin and falling to her naked breasts. "I need you again Chris, I need him in me, I want you to fuck me again and make me come, make me come as many......Oh God......just talking about it!"

Chris lay on his bed. He had kept his door open, just so that he could listen out for his mother and ensure that she was ok. He couldn't trust himself to be in the room with her and was extremely annoyed at himself for showing that weakness. To get an erection, because of his mother was perhaps the depths of depravity for him. Were she to find out, he was sure, she would be mortified? He read a magazine and encouraged his wayward member to behave itself.

Shortly afterwards however, he heard his mother move in her room and he sat up in bed. He wanted to go to her and make sure she was now ok, but knew that she was in a state of undress. And knew too, that she had that very embarrassing toy to remove. He decided to wait a bit and give her chance. But then her heard her speaking, speaking clearly to him. He was confused, was she still hallucinating? Should he go in anyway? As he listened to what she was saying he became red with embarrassment. How did she know what he wanted? How could she know his inner-most dreams?

He heard the succulent wet sounds of his mother as it sounded like she was giving him a blow-job, he heard her moaning, he heard her say that he tasted divine and he heard her say that she wanted him to fuck her. His cock of course could not take this lying down. If he felt that he was hard after seeing his mother in her lingerie, knowing that she had be masturbating; hearing her sucking on, what he assumed was the phallus she had been using a few moments before, whilst fantasising about him, had created a rigidity in him that was unknown to him. In fact, so exciting was his mother's vocalisations, that he already had a damp patch in his shorts, where pre-come was leaking from his erection. But what happened next, finished all hope of denying what he was hearing.

Clarissa had got up from her knees, she was still dribbling from her mouth as all that filled her head now was sex at its most raw. She held onto the moist cock as she spun around and bending over quickly fed it in between her dripping folds. "Oh, shit Chris, that is good. God, you fuck me better than any man I have ever had. Do you like how my cunt grips your erect shaft, am I tight enough for you, does my pussy excite you, ohhhhhh GODDDDDDdddddd.....already! Huh, huh, huhhhhhh Chris I'm coming again. You are such a naughty boy making your mother come like this, fuck, CHRIS!"

Chris looked down at his pulsing shaft, with his mother's screams of lust going on in the other room, lust that was supposedly of his doing, it was no wonder his cock could not hold on and pulsing rapidly, it released its contents. He groaned quietly as hot spurt after hot spurt of his ejaculate filled his pants.

"Oh sweet Jesus, you know how to fuck your mother don't you, oh, oh, ohhhh, ohhhhhshitChris. Fuck I think........yes, yes, YES, you are making me.....come......again, oh that makes.....I don't know?" She panted breathlessly. "That makes five of six times you've made mummy come, you are a bad influence, ohhh yes, please touch me there, and yes squeeze my nipples, I love that, I love the way you gently play with my clit....oh Chris, I can feel another, OOOOOOOOHhh I think I am going to die of pleasure, do you think that possible?"

Chris could hear his mother clearly. He could hear as she repeatedly pounded on the shaft, could hear all of the sexual squelching noises as her fully lubricated vagina was pounded by the latex man. He could take no more of this, though his still erect cock obviously had other ideas, despite having releasing its load. He crept down the stairs, quietly opened the from door, then loudly slammed it shut and shouted out. "Hi mum, I'm back. Do you want a cuppa?"

There was a pause before his mother replied to him, and when she did, her voice was broken, gasping and harsh. "Er, yes please dear. Give me a minute and I will be down."

Chris was relieved, his ruse had appeared to work, and he wouldn't therefore need to confront, or be confronted by, his mother. He went into the kitchen to make the tea.

Clarissa extricated herself from the erection, thanking her lucky stars that Chris had turned up now, any earlier, and he would have caught her in the throes of an orgasm, that would not have been denied. Her legs were very wobbly and she felt flushed from head to foot, so went into the bathroom and used a wet flannel to mop herself down. The cool water helped in calming her. Slipping on her silk dressing gown she moved to her door. It was as she went to grab the door handle, she realised something was wrong. The door should have been closed! She had leant against it earlier that evening, she knew it was closed. So how was it open now? Unless.....?

As she pulled the door open with trembling fingers, she could see into her son's room. The reading light was on by the bed, and it was evident that he had been laying on the top of the bead, reading one of his magazines. 'Of course, he could have left it like that, before going out?' She tried to convince herself, but was doubtful that that was the case. More worrying for her, was the much more likely scenario, that he had been witness to her whole last sex session, and with her screaming out his name too! "Oh God," she muttered out load, "he heard everything, oh, how do I explain this one?"

As she entered the kitchen, Chris stood by the kettle. He looked shell-shocked, and embarrassed. His whole body language confirmed her fears, she didn't need to ask him. Clarissa's eyes instantly caught the rather large wet patch on the front of his shorts. He could of course, just have spilt some water there? But then she could see the outline that his cock was making, and it was evident the wet patch was exactly where the end of his cock would be if erect. It made her catch her breath in her throat.

"How was your evening darling?"

Chris looked up at his mother for the first time, she wore her silk robe which she had hastily done up. It did nothing to hide the large erections of her nipples, and everything to bring his attention to them. The robe had parted at her thigh and revealed that upper most portion of her stocking covered thigh, just before the stocking top, that was enticingly out of view by only a few microns.

The gown moulded to her shape, it emphasised her curves, the flatness of her stomach, the womanly hips, the long legs. She had evidently not put on a bra, he wondered if she wearing any panties? Then chastised himself for those thoughts.

He could smell her. He could smell the freshness of her shower gel and shampoo, but he could also smell the erotic, pheromonal smell of her recent activities. "It was ok," he said, finally raising his eyes to look into hers, having briefly looked at her breasts and nipples again. "I was stood up actually."

"Stood up? By the boys? All of them?" Clarissa looked at her son, confused. His face was bright red, and his eyes seemed to stray all over her. Despite her recent activities and her multiple orgasms and despite her trepidation in having to confront her son in the knowledge that he had heard her screaming his name as she masturbated; she knew she had not been fully satisfied, and was once again beginning to feel the heat of that need under his unnerving gaze.

"Yeah, I sort of told a lie there. I didn't want you to know I was going on a blind date. I guess I wanted you to think that I was able to get a girl if I wanted one, but the truth is, Elise is the first date that I have been able to arrange for a while, I just don't find it that easy. Anyway, this girl didn't show, so I was done by seven thirty." As soon as he said that, Chris realised his mistake. It was now nine-fifteen, so his mother was bound to ask.....

"What, and you have only just got in now?" Clarissa already knew the truth of things before he even said anything. It would explain why her door was open. It would explain why she was laying on her back, looking at the ceiling after her first bout with the sex toy; because Chris had helped her into that position. The full realisation of it began to permeate through her mind. Surprisingly it was not dread, remorse or embarrassment that her son had caught her masturbating, or even fucking. Or that he probably heard her calling out his name. The realisation was, that she wanted him to know. Wanted him to know what she had been doing, and yes, wanted him to witness it too.

The question now for Clarissa, was 'how would he react to that, how would she react to his reaction?' Certainly, if his shorts were anything to go on, her screaming out his name as she was pile-driving the latex cock had turned him on to the point of orgasm. She had to pursue things further. Her body was coercing her into doing it. Her pussy felt on fire again, it ached for real flesh to part her lips wide and stretch her as it penetrated her to the hilt. Clarissa had no choice in the matter and found herself saying. "So, you've been home for a while then?" She moved forwards to him and cupped his chin to raise his face so that she could look into his eyes.

Chris didn't know what to say? Tell her the truth and embarrass both of them, or tell her a lie and make her feel better, but cause some integrity issues for himself. His mother's hand upon his face seemed to burn his flesh, and as he looked into her eyes, he saw nothing but the guilt he himself felt.

"Tell me," Clarissa almost whispered. "Tell me how long you have been here? It will help if we are both honest with one another, as we have always been to this point."

"I got in at eight." He stammered. "I....called you, but heard no reply, so I went upstairs and saw your bedroom door closed, so I knocked, but there was no response. I thought you were having a shower or something, so I waited twenty minutes and knocked again.....and..."

"And?" Clarissa had an uncontrollable flutter in her voice, she wanted to hear and yet didn't want to hear at the same time. Her legs were trembling, as were the fingers still pressed against her son's chin. "Did you.......did you come into my room?"

Chris moved his face away from her fingertips and looked down again, but nodded his head in acquiesce.

"I see." She opened her arms. "Come here." Chris looked up at her, but did not move. So, she took a step forwards and enfolded him in her arms. Her silk coved breasts, squashed into his powerful chest, causing her to moan. Her thin silken gown did nothing to protect her from his wet shorts, it was not long before she felt the wetness of his come upon her stomach. As she took on board the import of that thought, that she now had her son's come on her body, her legs shook uncontrollably and she looked up at her son, biting her lip, desperately trying not to cry out as the sweetest of orgasms passed through her, she could not stop her hips from thrusting forwards however, and she was pleased that Chris did not pull away. But he had still not put his arms around her, and was probably now even more disgusted with her behaviour than he had been earlier. "A woman has needs, my darling, I have needs. Needs that I have denied myself of for a very long time."

"I.....underst...."

"No, let me finish, otherwise, the time will pass and I will lose my courage. I have not been with a man, as you know, since your father left. And I have not taken to....shall we say self-pleasure, during that time either. I guess that the combination of those two things and to be fair, something that I saw, something you made me see, well they set me off, I suppose. I guess I over did it and was overcome and fainted. You have to realise it was not my intention to have you find me like that."

"Yes, I realise.......What, wait a minute, something I made you see? What do you mean?"

Clarissa ignored the question and pushed on. "I am truly sorry that you had to do what you did, but thank you for being concerned enough to check on me. That means a lot."

"Of course, I am concerned enough, you are my mother and I love you. Why would I not be concerned?"

"Chris, you know what I meant. Were you........were you very shocked?"

Chris could feel his mother's firm breasts against him, her breathing was very erratic and she seemed to push into him harder. The little thrusts of her hips against his thigh were really not helping his composure either, he tried to pull back, but she wasn't having any, and he did not like where the conversation was going, it would result in only one thing, him disgracing himself. It was one thing having an erection, it was an entirely different thing having an erection because of his mother, and that she would feel pressed against her stomach, the instant it started to appear. "Yeah, to be honest I was shocked. But as you said, it is a natural need that we all have, and you were fulfilling that in the only way you could at the moment. I understand mother. Now shall I get on with that tea?"

But his mother wasn't going to be dissuaded that easily. "What did you think of my stockings, I know that you like seeing women in them, I have seen it in the magazines you keep under your bed. Do you like me wearing stockings? You noticed at the garden centre too, didn't you?"

"Mother please! I....I'm not sure we should discuss.....I mean......it feels wrong to...."

"Surely it is not wrong to tell me that I looked attractive in them or even sexy? You said as much at the garden centre?"

"Yes, but that was more general. I wasn't saying you looked really hot, naked, just wearing stockings!"

"Oh, so you thought I was hot?"

"That was not what I meant.......but..."

Clarissa upped the pressure, pushing herself harder against her son, and by saying, "I put them on for you, you know? I have noticed you looking at me when I wear them. I have seen you trying to look up my skirt, or felt your hand sometimes brush against the outside of my thigh as if by accident, but really trying to find out if I was wearing a suspender belt."

"No.....no I......"

"What is it that you like about stockings Chris, do they turn you on? Is it that girls these days don't wear them so much, so it is unusual to see, other than in your magazines? Or is it that your girlfriends don't want to wear them? Have you ever felt them, on a woman's legs? I don't know what it is about them, but they make me feel very sexy too, sexy and powerful. Do you want to see them again now? Ummmmmmm, oh! Chris is that....?"

The inevitable had happened, Chris knew it would and as most men have suffered at some point in their lives, or more likely, many points in their lives, he started to get an erection. An erection that he could not stop, despite himself. Despite inward recriminations, despite his inward cry of desperation, that his cock would not respond to what he could only consider as his mother's probing into his particular turn on. It was always going to happen. The problem was, this wasn't just discussing the topic with his mother. This was discussing the topic with her pressed up tightly against him. Her stupendous, pert, golden globes, topped with very swollen, erect nipples, where rubbing against his chest as she cuddled him. Breasts that he had seen naked only a few moments before. Breasts that were separated from him by sheer microns of clothing. And breasts that if he were honest with himself, he longed to touch and stroke and play with.

And then there was the close proximity of her pussy to his thighs and she ground against him, and the knowledge of the fact that she was wearing stockings. All this and his mother's teasing, probing questions his fetish, or what he perceived as his fetish. Well, to a degree, he could be forgiven for not being able to control his penis. But to make matters even worst, his mother, instead of backing away in disgust, seemed to be pushing even harder against him. Surely, she must know, surely, she must be able to feel his growing, pulsing member? It was trapped between them after all?