Don't Tell Your Father

"Gee, thanks,"

"No, I mean, she's not some eighteen year old. She does a lot of these like fetish videos where she's in control, but really she does a little of everything. She's hot, but the guys and sometimes girls she works with are too. I think you'd like it if you tried."

Brad was fishing his phone out of his pocket. He pulled up a website with a ton of adult videos and searched for the actress by name. Renae awkwardly accepted the phone.

She wasn't sure if Brad did it on purpose, but the video he selected showed the actress, who she did kind of resemble, though she didn't think she'd ever been that confident in her life, dominating a younger man who had a haircut and color kind of like Brad's. She watched her porn self grab him by the hair and steer him down between her legs.

"Wow," Renae said, after finally looking away, "That is a lot more graphic than skinemax."

"I know, right!" Brad said, he reached over to pick his phone up, "I'll text you the link, if you want."

"I guess this is what it comes to," Renae sighed, "When you start sharing porn videos with your parents, I guess you really are all grown up."

--

Renae couldn't get it out of her mind all day, how much it looked like some fantasy version of her and Brad in the video. She'd followed the link and watched the whole scene a couple of times to make sure, as well as for other reasons. Was that what her son was doing? Trying to hint he wanted to sleep with her? Or, was it just that when he came in that night, the naked woman resembled his favorite porn actress and he struggled with doing the right thing. Did it even matter? Renae was so fucking horny by that time she was damn near ready to snatch the phone back and start masturbating right there at the kitchen table. Maybe that was what her son wanted?

Somehow, she managed to keep it together all day. Brad wasn't even leaving that afternoon. They watched some tv, nice non pornographic entertainment, but she couldn't keep her mind from going places it shouldn't, like down to Brad's zipper, and the curiosity about what he was hiding behind it. She tried medicating her urges with more videos from the collection of her son's favorite adult actress when Brad left to get some groceries from the store. There was a whole subsection of videos where she was peeing in public, and Renae wondered if her son's fixation on her had started during that one family camping trip where he'd accidentally seen her relieving herself. She realized trying to puzzle that mystery out was not exactly going to help her current situation.

Ultimately, she settled on a tit for tat solution. Since Brad had seen her naked, she should get to see him. Of course, she knew he probably wasn't dumb enough to sleep in the nude, but there was always a chance.

As soon as she'd had any agency as a child, she'd elected to sleep naked. She would completely strip and bury herself in the covers. It had always felt naughty and forbidden, which was what had made it fun. When she got older, into her teenage years, she'd added a long shirt for a bit of modesty and containment of her tits, but stayed bottomless. It had always felt so good for her vagina to be able to breathe, as she called it, at night. Then, after Brad had been born, his father hadn't thought it was appropriate for her to go around like that anymore, so she had transitioned into wearing underwear to bed again.

She'd decided to get ready for bed that night the way she had before becoming a mother, back when she just felt like a woman. And it was perfectly okay for her to enjoy being a woman.

She could feel her pulse quicken and her labia getting a little slippery just from the thrill of walking around the house like that again, wearing nothing but an old rock band tour shirt that was just long enough to cover her up, but that she knew would rise very teasingly any time she lifted her arms.

Renae was a little disappointed to find that Brad was sitting at the counter in the kitchen. It was so late, how had still not gone to bed, she wondered. She fought a little battle in her head as to whether she should just head back to her room, enjoy the videos and mastrubate until she either got off enough to clear her head or was so relaxed she fell asleep or just keep walking into the kitchen and see what would happen.

"Hey, you can't sleep either?" She said, walking past him into the kitchen. She wondered if he had any clue she wasn't wearing anything but her own musk underneath the shirt.

"Nah, I was hungry," he held up a quickly put together sandwich, "I could make one..."

Renae opened a cabinet and reached for a glass from one of the higher shelves. She could feel the hem of the shirt creep up, evening cool air on her bare ass. She knew Brad was looking from the way he'd gone silent all of a sudden. She let the shirt settle slowly once her glass was in hand.

She went to the refrigerator and pulled the door open. At first, she wasn't sure how blatant and forward she wanted to be, but she figured she had taken it all this far, so stopping short of an all out push would feel like a waste. She was almost shaking as she leaned over to reach for a container of pomegranate juice toward the back of the fridge.

Renae's whole ass was on display, there was no way Brad could miss the moist lips of her vagina, darkened and pouting out from arousal, below. She knew there were some women, and some of her friends had even been that way in college, that just hated everything about their vaginas. How they looked, how they smelled, how they tasted, if they could even get over themselves enough to try. Renae had never bought into any of that. From the very first time she'd begun exploring her own body, she loved every bit of it, and so she was delighting in the scent of her own lust, and could only imagine Brad would be reacting similarly.

She straightened and turned to see him staring at her with his mouth open. She smiled and took a swig from the juice bottle. She lifted the hem of the shirt to wipe her mouth, this time putting her lovely bush on display, and even her breasts.

"I know you like to look," she said, her voice deep and seductive.

Brad swallowed.

"I believe you want to touch," Renae continued. Her son looked totally spellbound by the sights of her.

He nodded.

"I hope you want to taste," she gave him her best coquettish smile.

Leaving the bottle on the counter, Renae walked over to her son and took his hand. She started to lead him toward the back room. The room where the massage table was set up.

"You and I are very much alike," Renae said, "We both want to love the people we have sex with, and we don't want to settle for just anyone when we need to cum. We both like to watch things that arouse us, and when we have to, we take matters into our own hands."

She put her free hand under the shirt and started to rub over her clit as they walked.

"I will not lie," she said, the stimulation and arousal making her voice sound huskier, "I love to have sex. But, I think I like it too much, and that scares me sometimes. So, I go for a long time without even thinking about it, until I have to."

"I tell myself I'm just too busy, or that I don't want to waste the time," Brad said.

They stopped at the door. Renae leaned up against it, continuing to please herself. She curled a finger inside to play with the lovely ridge of sensitive tissue there.

"We both have regrets," Renae said, "But we should feel perfectly safe with each other, right?"

"Because we will always love each other," Brad said, trying not to let his eyes fall where they wanted to, and where they would likely stay if they did.

"Exactly," Renae smiled, "And I mean perfectly safe in every way. The iud a got during my last relationship is still inside. Like I said, I want a grandchild someday, and not one that I would give birth to, so if we do this, we both have to agree to that. But that is some day, and right now, I want to get fucked, Brad, and you want to know what it feels like for yourself."

Brad couldn't protest it. The proof was right there, straining against the front of his jeans.

"So, if we want, we can have fun with each other, but I still expect you to find a nice girl and do the whole family thing," Renae said, "That is my only condition."

"I can live with that," Brad said, and then he made the mistake of looking down. Renae watched her boy staring between her legs as she fingered herself for him.

"Then why don't we take care of our regrets," she said, "Yours was in the living room, when you came in and found me naked and spread out. You didn't want to just cover me up, did you?"

"No,"

"My regret happened right here in this room," Renae withdrew her finger, and watched her son's eyes stay glued to it as she lifted it to her mouth. She smiled around the taste of herself and turned the door handle, "Why don't we fix our mistake."

Brad was speechless as he watched his mother peel the vintage shirt off and leave it in a ball by the door. She walked into the room, and all he could do was follow.

"Do you remember what you said to me, during the massage?" She asked, seating herself on the edge of the table.

"What happens on the massage table stays on the massage table," Brad replied.

Renae scooted back and spread her legs open so her son could admire the dripping wetness of her vagina, feeling herself practically aching to be filled. She reached a hand out to beckon him to come closer.

He obeyed, standing in front of her. She reached out and lifted the hem of his shirt, and he raised his arms so she could carry it off over his head. In the back of her mind, Renae knew it was like some twisted inversion of all the times she had helped dress him as a child, to be undressing him now as a man, yet still she felt ripples of excitement through her body.

She pulled him closer by tugging the waistband of his jeans, close enough for her lips to find the skin of his muscular chest. Dragging her tongue up, she tasted his sweat. As good as the first inversion of motherhood had felt, she moved to the second, closing her mouth around one of her son's nipples. He moaned as her tongue swirled around it.

"Fuck, that feels amazing," he said, as she shared the sensation of teeth closing on an erect nipple with him.

Renae busied her fingers with the button and fly of her son's jeans as her mouth moved to the other side of his chest. When one of his hands lifted to hold the back of her head, Renae rewarded her boy for his boldness by sliding his jeans down and cupping the bulge at the front of his boxers. She felt a sticky warmth there.

As she had always loved to tease her lovers before the final surrender, she released his nipple from her mouth and pushed him away. She didn't want to do the whole dance with him, to make him beg for release like she had made his father the first time, so she lifted her other hand to her mouth and licked the precum that had soaked through his underwear from her palm. His taste was very like her own.

"I've never let a man inside of me without tasting myself on his lips first,"

Brad kneeled before her. As she watched him, she wondered if he was briefly having thoughts that this was all some elaborate prank, or maybe a dream he might wake from. Renae had to admit to a few feelings like that of her own. Her son's face was so close to her now. She closed her eyes and leaned back, not able to bare watching any longer. If he was going to stop this, it was now or never. Part of her was still, and would always be a mother. His mother. That part wanted him to push away and say it was crazy, that they should just forget about the whole thing. The part of her that was an aroused woman, who could still taste the sweat and pre cum of the young man with his head between her legs wanted something else. Renae knew that only one of those women would get what they wanted, and with a sigh, she realized in the long run, it wouldn't matter which. Or at least she hoped not.

Then there was only the surprise of a warm tongue lapping her at her vagina. She hadn't been eaten out in years, had almost forgotten how good it felt. His tongue went everywhere she wanted it to, he even pushed it deep between the folds and inside of her. He ate her with loud slurping noises, only pausing to steal a ragged breath here and there. His hands found the top of her thighs first, then moved around to grab her ass.

She reached down to run her fingers through his hair, then used subtle pressure to slow him down and keep his warm, wet, probing tongue exactly where she wanted it. He could go on for an hour like that and not quite get her to where she could cum though, and she was afraid he'd have shot his own load into his underwear by then.

"Suck my clit," she moaned, "Use your fingers, too"

Brad's eager mouth moved up, sucking the top of her labia into his mouth. He found this little trick where he sucked her labia in over his teeth, then released, then sucked again. It was the closest thing Renae would ever experience to how she imagined it felt for a man to get a blowjob. It was almost too much, but before she could push him away and give him more direction, he had two fingers inside of her. With the continued assault of his mouth on her, it took less than a dozen thrusts from his fingers to push her over the edge.

"I'm cumming!" she gasped, her muscles twitching and clenching in the moment of ecstasy.

Almost immediately though, she had to push his face away. What he was doing was far too intense for that period of ultra sensitivity that always followed her orgasms. She grabbed him by the hair, not caring about being gentle, and pulled him into an open mouthed kiss. As Renae's tongue swirled in her son's mouth, she could taste herself on his lips, feel her girl juice, as she had called it since highschool smearing on their faces.

After a few moments, she pulled back from the kiss and stared at her son, cupping his face in her hands. He had the most naked, hungry, look of desire she had ever seen. She could still stop this, she imagined. She could tell him it was a mistake, maybe offer to jerk him off and call it even, but she knew that she would not do that, not when the thing she wanted most in the whole world would be hers with only two words.

"Fuck me," she said the words.

Renae watched her son shed his boxers, his erect cock bobbing when he moved, a long trail of precum dangling from the tip. He was big. Somewhere between seven and eight inches long if she had to guess, and just the right thickness. It was like he was made for her, she caught herself thinking.

He pushed forward, meeting her for another kiss, wrapping his arms around her. This time he was the one leading, directing her to turn and lay down on the table. He stayed in the kiss, his tongue now the aggressor, pushing hers around, tasting her, she knew, while one hand went between her legs to play.

When he pulled away to make his climb onto the table with her, she was almost mesmerized by the sight of his cock, the head so swollen with his arousal that she imagined she could feel it begging for her to suck it. Of course, closing her mouth on a virgin cock that ready to go off would be a bad idea, when there was a wet vagina begging for attention.

Brad was on top of her, this time it was the son's lips finding the mother's breast. He licked and sucked and bit just as she had. When he slid forward to return to her waiting lips, she felt the head of his cock push into her waiting vagina. She could see her own surprise mirrored on his face, he hadn't even been trying to, was probably not ready to, but as if by a mind of its own, he had found his way into her.

He settled his weight down on top of her and pushed deeper. Renae moaned, delighting in how fantastic he felt inside of her. She watched him, and knew he was trying to act like he knew what he was doing, or at least like he had seen men act in porn. He was leaned back, pounding her. Renae loved being on display for her son like that, feeling him fucking her so deeply, but the poses that looked good for the camera did not always work best in reality. She needed him down in her arms, needed the grinding of his pelvis against her clit.

"Unless," she struggled to talk through his rhythm and her own moans, "I'm in a position that makes it impossible, I want to be kissed when I'm getting fucked."

He folded back down towards her waiting mouth, and she trapped him there with her arms. Now, his weight was sliding against right where she needed to feel it, as his thick cock kept thrusting in and out of her. He was going too fast. He would finish long before she did at that pace, so she wrapped her legs around him and held him deep inside of her.

"Slow down," she said as soon as her mouth was free, "I'm getting close."

He could only nod and return his tongue to her mouth. He started to grind slowly against her, and she helped by tightening her legs around him at the bottom of his thrusts and not releasing him at first. Renae felt a sharp sensation, pain mixed with pleasure, as her son dug deep enough to find her cervix.

"Easy," she said, "Be gentle, we're almost there,"

He obeyed her rhythm as they kissed. Renae wondered if he could feel the way her muscles were spasming around him, if he could feel how close she was to cumming. She knew he was right on the edge, and the only question that remained was which one of them would start it off.

As her son's hand tightened to a fist in her hair, Renae let out a high sharp moan against his lips. Riding the wave of her own orgasm, she felt her son start to empty himself into her. When he tried to stop moving, she pulled at him greedily with her arms and legs, kept them moving together like that, scooping her own hips up. She ground her way into another orgasm as he continued to cum inside of her. She could feel the warmth shooting into her, coating her. Brad was still fucking her, though they were both so well lubricated at that point that the friction of their skin seemed a distant memory.

Renae made a feeble attempt to push him away, to beg for a reprieve, but her son showed no signs of stopping. The alternating rushes of pleasure and the sharp bites of pain whenever he bottomed out inside of her blended into a single overwhelming sensation that made it feel like her entire body was cumming.

At some point, probably from sensory overload, Renae must have blacked out or something, because the next thing she was aware of was her son, his penis still buried inside of her, but starting to soften, supporting his palms on the table on either side of her head, looking down at her.

"Mom, are you okay?" He asked, clear concern on his face.

"I'm fucking wonderful," Renae said, dreamily, "You inherited your father's trick. I've never been with another man who could cum as much and as many times in a row. God, it feels like you shot a river inside of me."

Brad seemed embarrassed, laughed nervously.

"That's a good thing, baby," Renae explained, "I think most women like when their man can do that."

"Well, I think I'm down for a while," Brad said.

Renae tried squeezing him with her muscles, but only managed to push his softening prick further out. When he slipped free of her clinging warmth, there was nothing to stop the flow of his semen. Brad sat back, indian style, and watched his load leaking out of his mother. She worked herself up into a sitting position, amazed that she could still feel it leaking out. The white puddle grew. When it finally stopped, she knew there was still more inside, but as full as her bladder felt, she knew if she tried to squeeze it out she would probably end up peeing.

"It seems like you enjoyed yourself," she said.

"You are fucking amazing, that was the best I've ever felt in my life," Brad was breathing heavily.