Datenight

The morning had been a hectic one and, by the time Jean Westin first had the chance to glance up at the clock on the wall of her lavish office, it was already 10:30.

"No wonder I'm getting antsy," she chuckled ruefully to herself. "It's time for a smoke break!"

Swiveling around in her desk chair, she leaned toward the credenza and picked up her purse. Opening it, she extracted a soft pack of Benson & Hedges Gold100's and an ornate gold butane lighter and slipped them into the pocket of her suit-jacket. Grabbing her coffee mug from its perch on the corner of her desk, she headed out into the corridor.

Her three-inch heels clicked smartly on the marble floor of the wide hallway until she stopped at the office of Kaylee MacIntyre. The door was part-way open, and Jean rapped twice with her knuckles on the oak panel, then stuck her head around the edge of the door-frame.

"It's past time, Kay," she called softly. "You ready?"

"Past ready, hon!" the comely brunette behind the large desk grinned, looking up at her. "Just let me get my cigarettes, and I'll be right with you!"

It took Kaylee only a moment to lift the pack of Salem 100's out of a desk-drawer. Then, mug in hand, she joined her friend in the hallway. Both women made a brief stop in the coffee room, to refill their mugs and add the requisite creamer and sweetener, and then made a beeline for the executive balcony.

The wide, saltillo-tiled area was furnished with half a dozen wrought-iron bistro tables, complete with umbrellas to ward off the harsh southern California summer sun, and the railing that looked eighteen floors down to the busy street was lined with planters and potted shrubs. At that hour of the morning, the balcony was vacant, and so they grabbed the nearest table and seated themselves. Each took a moment to extract a cigarette from her pack, light up, and pull in a huge drag of smoke.

"So, anything new happening with you, Jean?" Kaylee asked, her words punctuated with bursts of exhaled smoke.

"Yeah as a matter of fact, I am never going out on a date with another man as long as I live. That asshole last night only had one thing on his filthy mind and that was to see how fast he could get me in the sack. I'm disgusted with creeps like that and they're everywhere. What is this world coming to?"

"Oh honey! I know what you mean. I'm lucky I found Byron all those many years ago. He's one in a million, for sure!"

"One in BILLION, you mean! I had a great husband, and you know he was stolen from me by a damned drunk driver five years ago. I didn't even think about dating for three years and, ever since then, it's been the same thing. Horny bastards who've slept with who knows how many women -- or men, for that matter -- wanting only to stick their dick in my cunt, shoot their wad and split! I'm past dating anymore. I need love and a serious relationship."

Jean took a long drag from her cigarette and held it so long that her exhale was practically nonexistent, waiting for Kaylee to respond.

"So, what are you going to do Jean?" the brunette ventured. "Just sit at home and pleasure yourself? Oh. I'm sorry! I shouldn't have said that. Please forget I said that, hon. What I meant to say is, you're only fifty-seven and don't look a day over forty. Maybe you need to pick from a different group of men. Younger men."

"Huh? You mean inexperienced, immature, overgrown boys? How could you even suggest such a thing? For one thing, with all the nubile young flesh strutting around, what younger man would even notice a woman our age? The idea is ridiculous!" Jean retorted.

Glaring across the table at the other woman, Jean stabbed her cigarette out in the ashtray and stood to leave.

"Wait, hon," Kaylee pleaded. "I don't think you understood what I meant. Please, give me a chance to explain?"

Jean shrugged her shoulders reluctantly and slumped back into her chair, dipping a hand into the pocket of her jacket for her Benson & Hedges. Tapping one loose from the pack, she deftly slid it one-handed between the first two fingers of her left hand and brought it to her lips while her right hand pocketed the pack and returned with the lighter.

"This better be good." she mumbled around the filter of her cigarette, then clicked the lighter into life and puffed deeply.

"It's sort of complex," Kaylee began, pausing to draw deeply on her Salem. "I wasn't talking about twenty-year-old frat boys. I was thinking somewhat older. Let's face it, honey -- we're on the disadvantage, at our age. Logic dictates that we look for men about our own age, right?"

Jean nodded, briefly, taking another long puff of her cigarette, and waited for Kaylee to continue.

"Well, that's where the problem lies. Most men in their fifties are either happily married, or unhappily divorced. Granted, there are a few men who are unhappily single due to the untimely death of their spouses but, since women tend to outlive men, that's the exception, rather than the rule. The men who are still happily married are the ones we're really looking for, because they're the good ones. The ones who are divorced? Well, some of them are divorced because their wives cheated on them. But, why did the wives cheat? Was hubby a workaholic, too busy to be what she needed, in a husband? Or were the men the ones who cheated, and got caught? We'll never know, until it's almost too late."

She paused, taking a thoughtful last drag from her Salem, extinguished it, and lit another.

"Now, the younger men are a bit different story," she went on. "They've got the vitality of youth on their side. That means, if you do get to the point in a relationship where you consider going to bed with a younger man, he can keep going all night long. And many of them, at that age, have never been married, so they're not bringing a lot of divorce baggage into a relationship. Plus, there is one thing that isn't too often discussed."

"What's that?" Jean asked.

"Well, according to all the psychology books, most men -- at one time in their lives -- had a deep, dark, secret fantasy about making love to their mothers. Men our age tend to have finally outgrown that fantasy, but most younger men still entertain it from time to time. Unfortunately, society tends to frown on incestuous relationships, so the vast majority of these young men never attempt to turn those fantasies into reality. But a beautiful, experienced older woman? She can serve as a nice stand-in for Mom. And, there's the mystery of just what sort of experience this older woman might have had. What 'games' might she be willing to play, in the bedroom?"

Jean sat for a few moments, idly puffing at her cigarette, as she let her friend's words percolate in her mind. Some of the rationale, she realized, she had already either heard or read, at some point in her past.

"Hmmm, that's something to think about," she finally admitted. "I'm going to have to do a little research on the subject and I'll get back to you. Thanks for the revelation."

Jean drove home in her red BMW M6 coupe listening to the smooth jazz XM satellite radio station. She had a good feeling after her chat with Kaylee. She slipped into a comfortable sweatshirt and cut-off jeans and then went straight to her computer and did a web-search for erotic stories of mature women & young men. She hit on a website called Literotica.com and noticed a category for incest / taboo stories.

"Now what in the hell? I never even considered the subject. I would never! Absolutely positively no way would I ever consider such a thing!"

Still, as she browsed the various story categories, she noted a number following each listing. A bit of investigating revealed the fact that this was the number of stories submitted, in that specific genre of erotic literature. Surprisingly, only 'Erotic Couplings' held more stories than the Incest section.

"Apparently, there's a whole lot of people who don't have my reaction to that subject," she murmured to herself as she slipped a Benson & Hedges from the pack and brought it to her lips. "I wonder what they see, in stories of that type? What the hell; I guess it won't do me any permanent harm to read a paragraph or two, and see what it's all about."

Selecting the category, she began to browse through the story titles, selecting one at random. It turned out to bee so poorly written that she hit her 'Back' button after reading the first paragraph, and went on to another tale. This one was much more skillfully written, and she read onward.

In the end, she read far more than a couple paragraphs. She read several of the stories in their entirety. The last, a lengthy story that detailed a middle-aged mother's agonizingly slow attempt to seduce her son, had her lighting up a cigarette and slipping her cut-offs and panties down around her ankles to make it easier to finger her clit, before she was halfway through the tale. After several minutes of slowly manipulating that pleasure-point, she rose and retreated to her bedroom, returning with her vibrator. A quick test indicated that there was still life in the batteries, and she hope that their charge was full enough to last until she'd finished her reading. She wasn't sure, since she hadn't used the thing in ages. Returning to her computer, she sat down in front of the monitor again, slipped it slowly into her dripping tunnel, and let herself slip back into the story once more.

As she continued reading the story she unconsciously found herself inserting her name for the mother and her son's name, Mike, for the son. It added intensity to the story and, in fact, made it seem more real. Without too much effort, she found herself climaxing for the first time in years.

"What a revelation!" she thought to herself as the tumult of her orgasm slowly began to subside. "Kaylee, you would freak out if you knew what I was reading. Thank you, girl, for the new direction. And yes, Kaylee, I will sit at home and pleasure myself. At least until I get the nerve to do something about it."

Slowly, almost reluctantly, she switched off the vibrator and let it slide from her throbbing pussy. Setting it aside, she reached for her cigarettes once again.

"God, I haven't had a smoke after a good climax, in years!" she giggled to herself as she exhaled the first huge drag. Glancing at her watch, she noted the time. It was already nearly eight in the evening!

"Time flies, when you're having fun," she chuckled, rising and heading for the kitchen to find something for her dinner. She settled for a modest pre-packaged salad, to which she added a handful of croutons and a little extra dressing. A nearly-full bottle of wine was handy in the cooler, and she added that to her menu, placing the salad, wine, and a goblet on a tray for easier carrying. Her cigarettes and lighter went onto the tray, as well.

Lifting the tray, she carried it down the hall to her media room, and placed it on the low coffee table in front of her favorite chair. Lifting the remote, she triggered the fifty-inch plasma-screen television and then aimed the control at the equipment rack, activating the DVD changer. She elected for a random selection, and the result was "Something's Gotta Give", with Diane Keaton, Jack Nicholson, and Keanu Reeves.

She'd watched this video before -- several times, in fact -- and was about to see what pressing the 'Random' button again would bring her, when a thought occurred to her. She decided to watch the film again, after all. The scenes where the young Reeves flirted with the significantly older Keaton stuck a chord with her, in light of the erotic tales she'd read only half an hour earlier.

"This 'older woman, younger man' thing must be pretty popular, if Hollywood is playing it up so much in the movies," she commented to herself, giggling. "But I'm his mother for crying out loud. I could never really make love with my own son. Could I? I just can't get this idea out of my head. I gotta try. Maybe Kaylee was right. Maybe he does have a secret desire for me and has never been able to confront me because it's so unacceptable in today's society. I can only hope."

She refilled her wine glass and was lighting another cigarette when she heard the grandfather clock in the main foyer striking eleven. My, how the evening had flown!

"I ought to clean up my dinner mess, and get off to bed," she thought. "Friday will be here too soon, as it is. Boy, do I have things to talk over with Kaylee! And I need to talk with her before the weekend begins!"

It only took her a few moments to rinse the salad bowl and deposit it in the dishwasher. Then, wineglass in hand, she headed for her bedroom. She slipped out of her clothes and slid between the sheets, lighting a last cigarette and watching a brief bit of the Tonight Show before shutting off the lights and television and surrendering to sleep -- a sleep that was filled with dreams of a most erotic nature.

All too soon, the alarm clock rang and pulled her from a dream in which a husky young man with a face markedly like that of her son, Mike, hovered above her as he repeatedly drove himself deep into her. She rose, lit her usual morning cigarette, stumbling to the kitchen for a cup of coffee, and then back to the bedroom and its attached bath for a quick shower.

The images from her dreams returned to haunt her as she took her morning shower. Surrendering to the temptation, she closed her eyes and imagined being pinned to the marble tiles of her large shower-stall by her son, his steel-hard tool being thrust deeply inside her over and over again. She climaxed as the water fell on her face and her shuddering body. Sighing at opening her eyes to find the shower empty save for herself, she grudgingly pulled her fingers from her thick bush of pubic hair. A thought occurred to her, then; something that she recalled reading in several of the Literotica tales. She busied herself for several minutes with the soap and her razor.

Eventually, she emerged from the shower, thoroughly clean and wide awake. Grabbing a sip of her coffee, she lit another cigarette and headed back into her bedroom to dress and tend to her makeup. As she applied the cosmetics to her face, she found herself paying particular attention to how her son would perceive her.

Her hair was not quite shoulder-length, and sort of salt and pepper with more salt than pepper. She thought it made her look sophisticated and sensually mature. Her skin, though bearing the typical southern California tan, was smooth and without blemish. There were, she found upon closer inspection, just the tiniest traces of laugh-lines at the sides of her mouth and the corners of her eyes, but they added to her overall beauty rather than detracting from it. Her nose was neither too large nor too small, and her hazel eyes looked brightly out of her face as she stared at herself in the vanity table mirror.

Yes, her son would certainly find her attractive.

Her son!

"Yes," she finally admitted to herself as she made her way to the kitchen where she prepared and ate a breakfast consisting of an English muffin with jam and another cup of coffee. "I'm really fascinated by the whole idea of seducing my own son -- of luring him into my bedroom and then spending all night making passionate love with him."

"But how in the world can I ever suggest such a thing to him?" she wondered aloud as she swallowed the last bite of her muffin. "How can I go about seducing him? I must be going nuts, to be sitting here, thinking the way I am! That sort of thing doesn't have a snowball's chance in hell, of happening to me. They're just fantasy stories, Jean! Cripes, what is wrong with you? You need to wake up and smell the coffee!"

Putting actions to her words, she brought the mug of deep, rich Kona blend to her lips and sipped appreciatively, the aroma wafting into her nostrils to make it a double treat. Still, though, the lurid images of herself and her son, wrestling naked on her bed-sheets, would not leave her alone.

It wasn't until she lit her after-breakfast smoke, however, that the idea popped fully-developed into her head. Her face took on a magnificent smile and she heaved a sigh of total relief. She knew just how to go about broaching the subject to her son.

"These things must be done delicately," she allowed herself to cackle as she voiced the dialogue line from The Wizard of Oz. "Or it ruins the spell!"

And it was, indeed, a spell -- of sorts -- that she intended to cast over her son. After all, who knew better what buttons to push, on a boy, or how to push them, than his mother?

The drive to the office was over almost before Jean realized she'd guided her BMW out of her driveway, so preoccupied was she with her planning for the coming weekend. She'd left for work early, hoping to catch her girlfriend before the official start of the workday. She rode the elevator up to the eighteenth floor with a degree of anxious anticipation she hadn't experienced in years, and stopped at her own office for just long enough to drop off her briefcase and pick up her mug. Then, it was off to Kaylee's office. Sure enough, the statuesque brunette was already at her desk, sifting through a stack of papers. Jean slipped into the office and quietly closed the door behind her.

"Kay, you need to come to the balcony with me. Now!" she said, an urgent note in her voice. "I'm dying for a smoke, and I have GOT to talk to you!"

"Sure hon. Let's go!" Kaylee responded. She grabbed her cigarettes and coffee and followed Jean out to the executive balcony. Fortunately -- at least from Jean's point of view -- very few of the staff ever came in early, on Fridays. Thus, the balcony was again empty, save for the two of them.

"What's up?" Kaylee asked anxiously. Then, the memory of their previous day's conversation came t her mind, and she narrowed the focus of her interrogation. "Have you got a date with some cute young guy, already? Tell me!"

Jean paused while digging her Benson & Hedges pack from her purse, selecting a cigarette, and lighting up. Kaylee had only suggested that she look into dating a somewhat younger man. The transformation of that notion, into one of having a sexual relationship with her own son, had occurred in Jean's own thoughts. Not knowing her friend's thoughts, regarding incest, she sought to keep certain details of her plan totally a secret, even from Kaylee.

"Well, it's like this," she began, allowing a hint of a wicked smile to cross her lips. "I did a lot of web surfing, last night. I found some factual articles, and some pieces of fiction, about older women dating younger men and, I must admit, the whole idea has a lot going for it. The thing is, I'm a bit apprehensive about just diving into this. The 'older woman, younger man' bit is getting pretty popular, but there are apparently still some stodgy old fogies who are traditionalists, and don't like the idea -- enough so that they make wisecracks when they see such a couple out on a date. So, what I've decided to do is set up a 'practice date'. Not with a new boyfriend; not yet. I'll go out with someone I already know, who'd be willing to go out on the town with me for an evening. That way, I can get a feel for what it would be like, you know -- see people's reactions to my being out on the town with a young man on my arm."

"Sounds like a great idea, Jean," Kaylee nodded, her smile slightly puckered as she vented a thick cone of smoke into the light morning breeze. "You won't have the worries about what comes later -- the whole bedroom thing -- to deal with, if it's only a practice date. I agree, you're bound to run into at least a few individuals who ain't up with the times. But who will you get, to go on this practice date with you? Do I know him?"

"I was thinking of asking my son, Mike. He's not seeing anyone, at the moment, so I wouldn't be interfering with his social life. And I'm sure he'd go along with it, just to make sure his mom will be comfortable with taking on a boy-toy."