Cupid and Psyche Play a Game

Sitting on a balcony overlooking the city street, Cupid and his beautiful wife Psyche watched the people below. Their passion had only grown over the countless years. They still enjoyed each other's company and challenging one another. They looked much as they had on the day they wed. The son of Venus appeared as a beautiful young man of 18 and his bride looked the same age, only with a woman's curves.

No one below noticed them as they sat in the loveseat kissing and playing. He pulled the shoulder of her gown down and revealed a flawless breast. She ran her fingers through his soft brown curls.

When Psyche's delicate finger traced the edge of one of his feathered wings, he shivered with delight.

"The people down there seem exceptionally dreary today, don't you think?" she asked as he took her nipple into his mouth.

"Compared to you, they always do," he replied, and he moved his lips up to her neck.

"Well, I have you, dear. What have they got?" she asked as his tongue teased her earlobe.

"What do you suggest?"

"I think we should liven them up a little bit. It's Valentine's Day after all. Shouldn't they be having fun?"

Psyche stood up and walked over to the railing to peer more closely at the people on the street. Her breast remained uncovered, while the pedestrians and workers went about their day.

Cupid walked up behind his wife and wrapped his slender arms around her as he looked over her shoulder. One hand absentmindedly fondled her exposed breast as he watched the people.

A waitress stood outside a café with a cigarette dangling from her lips. As she bent over to dust something from her apron, and nearby road worker watched the waitress's ass and whistled.

"How about those two?" she asked as her husband started sliding her gown up to her hips.

"Seems kind of cliche to me," he replied in a bored tone.

"You think you have a better idea?"

"Oh, I have lots of better ideas," he said as he rubbed her bare ass with his left hand and continued to fondle her breast with his right.

"Prove it," she said with a smile. She pressed her ass into him as they talked. She relished the feeling of his taut body against hers.

"How would you like me to do that?"

"Let's push two people together. Ones who otherwise might never know the taste of one another."

"Okay, but first things first," Cupid said as he guided himself into her from behind and began making love to her.

She was still leaning over the railing as she moaned her pleasure. She was already close to coming thinking of the deviance they could stir up with their pairing.

The people below never looked up to see these immortal pleasure seekers in their midst. But they would feel their impact soon.

Once satiated the two were on the street, walking amongst the mortals, but invisible to them. They passed shops, and shoppers, construction zones, businesspeople on lunch breaks. The streets were bustling with activity despite the chill of the day.

When Cupid drew to a stop, he observed a pair. It was a woman in her late 30's or early 40's and a young man who may have been 20. They had been arguing.

The young man opened the passenger side door of a maroon sedan and sat down. He slammed the door so hard his raven black hair fluttered on his forehead from the force of the air.

The woman walked to the other side of the car to get behind the wheel. She wore tight slacks with heels and a V-neck top that showed off the tops of round breasts so perfect they were likely surgically enhanced. Her straight ash brown hair fell to her chin and seemed as if she had only visited the stylist yesterday. She looked pretty, but tired.

Both looked angry.

"Those two," Cupid said pointing. A devious smile spread across his face.

"No way. They are probably mother and son! Look at his sulky face," Psyche protested. There was no real argument in her expression though. Only intrigue.

Without hesitation, Cupid pulled out his bow and arrow.

"These are special," he informed Psyche. "They're a Valentine's special. The effect will be temporary but incredibly intense. They are tipped with pure lust and infatuation. They'll only work for today, though the memories will remain. Which one shall I inflict?"

"The boy," Psyche answered. "I want to see that sulk wiped off his face."

Cupid loosed his arrow and it dove through the windshield without affecting the glass. When it hit its mark, the young man's eyes opened wide, and he immediately began to shift in his seat.

Psyche and Cupid climbed undetected into the back seat of the car before it could drive away. They didn't want to miss the show.

As the car pulled onto the street, the woman noticed the boy had grown quiet.

"I know you think I'm being unfair. But this could have been avoided if you had come to me before it got this bad. Not attending classes for over a month without saying anything? I just don't want you throwing away your opportunities. You'll move back home until you've gotten your grades and attendance under control. I know last semester is a wash, but we don't have to give up yet."

The dark-haired young man didn't respond.

"I know at your age living at home with your mom again isn't ideal. But I think it will be good for you," she continued. She placed a hand on his knee when he still said nothing.

When she touched him, he gasped. While she talked, he had been staring, like he was hypnotized at the mounds peeking out the top of her shirt. He had been shocked by the sudden physical contact.

Misreading his response, she pulled her hand away and looked at him.

"Don't act like I hit you," she said. "You know I wouldn't do this if I didn't know you could do better. This is just temporary until you are doing better. Who knows? Maybe it'll be fun. Whenever you're not working on schoolwork, we'll have some free time. I'm sure we can find some things to fill up the time."

The boy blanched at her words. His mind immediately began filling with all sorts of ways they could fill up that free time. He wished he hadn't gasped when she touched him. His leg was like ice where her warm hand had been. Of course, he knew she meant things like going for hikes or bowling. But even when he told himself that, his mind supplemented with images of pressing his mother against a tree off some secluded hiking path, or how hot her ass would look bent over while he sat and watched her from his seat at the bowling alley.

He tried to casually move his hand over his crotch, so she wouldn't notice the effect these thoughts were having on him. He was supposed to care that he was being dragged back home from college after fucking up a whole semester. But suddenly none of that mattered suddenly.

All he could think about was his mom's body. She was hotter than ever since he went away to college.

He caught himself in that thought and pinched his own leg hard. What the hell was he thinking? Gross! She was his mom. But the mental chastisement did little to him. Why shouldn't he notice she was hot? She was a woman, and he was a man. It was only natural.

Somehow, he was going to find a way to touch her. Just a little. When he tried to push the thought down, it just popped back into his mind.

When they pulled into the driveway, she got out without saying anything and opened the trunk. He followed, quickly rearranging his beginning erection to make it less obvious. He followed her to the back, and watched as she bent over. She moved some objects around before pulling out a laundry basket filled with his clothes and bedding. He wanted to press his crotch into her backside and grind against her.

"Are you going to help?" she asked, a hint of exasperation creeping back into her voice.

"Yes, of course," he said. As he reached into the trunk to grab the largest box, he casually brushed his hand across her ass, pretending it was an accident.

His mother didn't react. Either she didn't notice, or she didn't care. He smiled and pulled out the box and sat on the ground long enough to slam the trunk closed. Then he picked it back up and followed his mother into their house.

Still unseen, Cupid and Psyche followed.

Once inside, they walked to his bedroom. Most of his things remained still. He had only brought the necessities with him to college. Since he only lived 30 minutes from home, it hadn't seemed worth it to bring more.

His mom had already made up his bed with clean sheets. An idea crossed his mind, and he felt naughty even as he began to execute it.

He sat on the bed and buried his face in his hands. He couldn't actually make himself cry, but he didn't think it would matter. And he was right. His mom noticed immediately and sat next to him. She wrapped her right arm around his shoulders and with her other hand she pulled his head down onto her shoulder. It had worked even better than he'd hoped. With his face inches from her soft breasts, he wrapped both his arms around her waist.

She ran her hand through his hair and kissed the top of his head.

"It's going to be okay Kyle," she reassured him. "I know it seems impossible right now, but it will be, I promise."

"I know. It's just..." he started to say 'hard'. But stopped himself because of his current predicament, it seemed a little too precise. "Difficult."

"I hope in time you'll forgive me for this," she said as she continued to stroke his hair. Every time she moved her arm to do so, she unintentionally brought her tits up just a little higher, nearly touching his face. If he lowered his face just a little...

"I'm not mad at you," he said as he shifted, subtly moving his face just a bit. He couldn't contain the small sigh when his cheek touched her breast. When he spoke, his lips lightly brushed against her warm skin.

She went still at the feel of his lips at such an intimate area. But she hesitated to push him away. It had been years since he'd been so vulnerable and affectionate. It gave her hope that they'd get through this rough patch.

Only feet away, in a small office chair near a desk, Psyche sat in Cupid's lap. They remained unseen and unheard. He casually ran his hand up and down her thigh as they watched the boy carefully begin to nuzzle his mother's cleavage.

"Is he scheming? Did your arrow do that too?" Psyche asked.

"Perhaps," Cupid whispered into her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. "Each one has its own unique qualities. Do you like?"

"Oh yes. So naughty," she replied with a smile and wiggled enthusiastically in his lap. "Are you sure she won't need one too?"

"We'll see," Cupid purred into his wife's neck.

As they watched, the boy continued to hold his mother tightly in his arms. She had stopped stroking his hair and was starting to look uncomfortable.

"You were right to bring me home," Kyle said, still speaking into his mother's chest. "I was having an awful year. I didn't realize how much I would miss you."

He rose his head from her chest and peered into her face. His liquid brown eyes met her blue ones. He tried to control the lust in his expression, but it was a nearly impossible task. His mother met his gaze and looked a little confused. She'd caught him looking at her tits from time to time in the past, especially when he was right around 14 or 15. It was uncomfortable, but she chalked it up to teenage hormones and curiosity. But even then, he'd never looked at her like this.

She looked away from him and shifted awkwardly on the bed. Suddenly feeling a wave of dizziness and heat washed over her.

"I promise it's going to be better now. I'm going to do better. We can help each other," he continued. He leaned back on her shoulder, this time nuzzling her neck, relishing the scent of her perfume. He had wrapped his arms around her again.

His right arm draped across her front, and he gently caressed her hip where his fingers landed. He could tell she was getting uncomfortable again, but she allowed him to continue holding her. He started to wonder how far he could actually take this. He couldn't tell if she stayed close because she wanted to, or because she was afraid of upsetting him. But either way, he realized he had some kind of hold on her, and he couldn't let her go.

She resumed stroking his hair as if needing something to do with her hand. When she touched him, he breathed warm air onto her neck and she reacted, just a tiny bit, to the sensation. He could tell because instead of going still or pulling away, she tilted her head just a little bit, as if offering her neck to him. He would be careful not to push it. Not yet. But it was becoming harder to resist by the second.

Very carefully, he took the hand that was wrapped around behind her and ran his thumb just under the back of her shirt. Barely touching the sensitive skin with his thumb. The small of her back was soft and smooth. It felt so good. Why did every part of her have to feel so damn good?

His control was slipping, and he slid his right hand down her thigh, suddenly wishing she wore a skirt instead of pants. He wanted to see and feel every part of her, without all these clothes in the way. He was imagining what her warm flesh would feel like under his fingers as he slid his hand back up, tracing her inner thigh.

Suddenly her hand was out of his hair and on his hand. Stopping it in its tracks.

"What are you doing?" she asked. She sounded just a little breathy. Or was he imagining that?

He didn't really have an appropriate answer.

"Nothing. I'm just glad to be home," he replied. Maybe he would get points for honesty. His face was still against her neck and when he spoke his lips moved against her skin, causing goosebumps to raise on her flesh. Seeing this made him smile. She still didn't push him away.

"I'm glad you're home too," she said weakly. "I uh. I should go make you some lunch."

She started to pull away from him.

"No. Please just stay with me," he begged, tightening his hold on her. "It's been such a rough year, and I just need you right now. I can have lunch later."

"Okay," she said and agreed to stay with him.

"Thank you," he replied as kissed her cheek. He'd kissed her like that a million times before, so she didn't think much of that, though she did seem a little thrown off by his other behavior. She was such a good mom. Always helping him and comforting him. He wondered how far she might go to ease his pain today.

He tested it out and kissed her again, but on her jaw. This kiss was a little slower, a little more tender. She allowed it. So, he tried again. This time his kiss landed just under her jawline, closer to her ear. She froze again. Too far. But it was so hard to stop.

He loosened his grip around her waist, and she relaxed somewhat.

The front of his jeans had grown uncomfortably tight. Would she notice if he just quickly readjusted things? He decided to risk it. It was less subtle than he planned, and she definitely noticed.

"Sorry," he mumbled and blushed a little. He suddenly became conscious of what a pervert he was acting like.

"It's okay," she said and started to stand up again. "Maybe you could use a little uh... alone time."

"No, mom, please," he practically panted. "I can't be alone right now." He felt a little guilty playing that card, but he knew she'd stay if she believed him in any danger, even emotionally.

She sat back down again. She turned her head slightly away trying to pretend she didn't see his growing hard-on.

"What do you want me to do?" she asked. Sounding somewhat defeated.

He leaned forward and took her hand in his.

"Kiss me," he said, boldly.

"Excuse me?" she replied as if she hadn't heard him right.

"Just a kiss," he repeated the request. He blushed and looked down at his hands. "I've never kissed a girl. I feel so awkward around them. It's part of why I'm struggling so much at school. I feel like such a loser. I have no idea what I'm doing, and it's so embarrassing. It's gotten so I hated to even leave my dorm room." All of that was actually true. He couldn't even say he'd struck out with girls because he'd been too afraid to even talk to them. Which made it even weirder that he was suddenly being so bold with his mother of all people.

"I'm not a girl, Kyle. I'm your mother."

"You're more beautiful than any girl I know," he said. And in that moment, he felt it wholeheartedly. "And I know you wouldn't laugh at me or mock me if I do it wrong. "

"There's nothing to get wrong," she said. "You're overthinking it. It's just a kiss."

"Then show me. Please."

She bit her bottom lip. They both knew how crazy this request was. But it was just a kiss, and she did want him to be more confident. He was a good-looking and smart guy. He had his father's dark eyes and hair. That man had charmed her so well, he had fucked four other women before she realized what sort of man he really was. There was no reason for her son to struggle so much.

"Ok," she said, resigned to do what she could to help him. It's just a kiss, she told herself again.

She leaned forward and closed her eyes as her lips touched his. They were surprisingly soft. It'd been years since she had kissed someone so young. He kissed her back. Timidly at first, then suddenly with breathtaking passion. She wasn't sure exactly when to stop him. She didn't want him to immediately think he'd done something wrong. And he hadn't. She was a little disturbed by how quickly her body responded to his kiss.

When she finally pulled away, her cheeks were flushed, and her breathing had picked up.

Without looking him in the eyes, she assured him.

"You have nothing to worry about in that department," she said.

"Really?" he asked. A feeble smile stretched his lips. "Could I try again? I don't want it to kiss like some inexperienced kid."

"Umm..." she wasn't so sure about that. But before she could formulate a response, his lips were on her again.

Kyle couldn't explain it, but some instinct told him that if he didn't move fast, the moment would be over, and his chance lost. His chance for what exactly? He was too afraid to think that far ahead, but he knew he couldn't stop yet.

This time when he pressed his lips to hers, he pushed open her mouth with his tongue. He ran one hand up into her hair to hold her there, and his other hand caressed her jawline and her neck.

At first, she seemed to resist, then she relaxed and let him kiss her. His tongue explored her mouth with a hunger nearing desperation. While she didn't kiss him back, he could feel her responding. He was glad to realize he really wasn't a bad kisser.

Soon his lips left her mouth, and he heard her catch her breath, only to hold it again when his mouth continued its exploration down her neck.

"Kyle," she practically moaned. She meant it to sound like a protest, but it didn't come out that way.

He pretended not to hear her and continued kissing and sucking at her neck. His right hand slid down from her jaw to her neck, then stopped finally when it reached her breast.

"Kyle!" she said more forcefully and tried to pull away, but he held her in place. He held her hair in his fist now. She was older, but he was taller than her by 6 inches, and stronger. He wasn't particularly athletic but had been blessed with a muscular build anyhow. His other hand moved behind her back and pressed her to him. His sudden show of strength and passion frightened her a little. It was like he'd been possessed.

Reading her body language, he felt guilty and loosened his grip.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. But he didn't entirely let her go. "I've just. I've never touched anyone like this, and I just want to know what it's like."

She just stared at him dumbfounded.

He looked down at her chest.

"Can I take your shirt off?"

"Absolutely not! Kyle, what has gotten into you?"

"Please," he begged softly. "I'm almost 19 and I have no experience. I've never even touched a bra. Not one that was on someone. What did you bring me home for, if not to teach me."