Every Mother's Son Mom's Perspective

THIS STORY IS THE SAME STORY AS EVERY MOTHER'S SON, BUT TOLD FROM THE MOTHER'S PERSPECTIVE. HAVE A GOOD READ!

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Ours was a normal home. Sure, my husband and I used to fight and argue in the evenings, then we'd go into the bedroom to "make up". I'm 5'3" and around a 125 pounds. Eddie was 6'3 and 200 pounds and hung like a horse. The sex was great, even if we didn't get along almost any other time. I was horny all the time and kept coming back for more and I needed it nightly to feel satisfied. When Eddie was away on a trip, I serviced myself, sometimes multiple times a day. It's almost all I ever think about.

Eventually, we started swinging with other couples. Eddie was great in bed, but I needed more and more, so I guess he thought he'd let someone else do his job for him. The other husbands weren't nearly as good as Eddie was, so I started seeing them on the side, while climbing on Eddie every night. One of the husbands clued me in, that Eddie was also seeing his wife on the side. I hung on a little longer because I wasn't ready to give up the great sex. Finally, we divorced.

I tried going out and finding someone to take Eddie's place in the sack, but none of them measured up, and I mean that in all the ways. I simply couldn't get enough, so I took to drinking, just to deaden the disappointment.

Our son, Michael, was 18 when we got divorced.

As I said, I was small and had a great body. When I was married, I used to wear a full slip and a light bathrobe over it around the house, but still occasionally, I would catch Michael looking at my boobs with my nipples hard and erect. I was amazed at how titillated it made me, knowing this young, good looking stud was checking me out and so I frequently let my bathrobe fall open in front of him. By the bulge in his jeans, I knew he liked what he saw.

There were times, when my husband was away on business, I would be using a vibrator on myself, and I would hear soft footsteps outside my door. I could tell by the light under the door that Michael was listening at the door.

He was a strapping kid at 6'1" at 18 and still growing. He was also blessed with his father's length and girth where it counted.

After my divorce I tried to spend more time with him. He always seemed to enjoy the time we spent together. I'd have him go out in the summer and work in the yard or mow the lawn. About that time, I began leaving my robe off more and more, and I just said that, "Since it's just us, no need to be so formal." Usually, I just wore my slip in the evenings, and occasionally, I would only wear my robe, loosely tied so it hung open, top and bottom. There was no question he enjoyed taking peeks at whatever I allowed him to "accidentally" see.

He'd come in from working on the yard and I'd ask him to fix a couple of steaks on the stove. He made great steaks. Then, I'd sit and talk to him and watch him cook. He usually came in without a shirt on and a little sweaty, which I appreciated greatly. I could see he would catch me inspecting him out of the corner of his eye and see me appreciating his tanned and muscular back and abs.

We'd eat dinner, then watch some television during the week, but on weekends I'd usually go out drinking on a date. I always dressed well to go out on a date. When I came home, I was either frustrated and horny and drunk, or just drunk.

If Michael was awake when I got home, he would sit on the couch with me and watch the late show. Frequently, He'd have to try and hide the huge bulge in his jeans where his cock was trying to rise out of the waistband of his jeans. I would always go in and get into my slip or robe before settling in beside him.

I got to the point of fantasizing about him while getting myself off with the vibrator. After a couple of months of wondering what my next move should be. Should I try to seduce my own son or keep being frustrated and using my toys?

Fate smiled on me when I came home late on a Friday night of fucking a stranger and getting half-drunk before coming home.

I was still horny and unsatisfied when I came into the house. I could have sworn that I saw movement in the living room. As I walked by his bedroom door, I opened the door to peek in. With the light behind me I could see him lying in the bed, partially covered with a very light sheet with one leg sticking out and a large rise in the sheet that could only be a huge erection.

I stood in the doorway for several minutes wondering what I should do next. I quietly closed the door and went to my room, where I put my vibrator to very good use, while fantasizing about seducing my son.

The next night, Saturday, the experiment was repeated. I made a little noise to alert him, then walked by his bedroom door. This time, the door was open with the hall light illuminating my son. He was in the same position with his leg uncovered and his cock barely covered but erect like a flag pole. This time, I quietly entered the room and stood next to the bed. He kept his eyes shut, pretending to be asleep. I decided to see how far he would take this, with my pussy screaming for attention. I very gently pulled the sheet from the side, until his rock-hard cock sprang out from under the sheet in all its erect glory. I made an involuntary gasp as I stood there for several minutes afraid to move and ruin this, with neither of us moving a muscle. Then I moved quietly to the door, closing it behind me. I headed immediately to my room and grabbed my vibrator. I watched for the light under the door to tell me that he was right outside my door, listening. To make it better, I even moaned, "oh baby, that's the way momma likes it!"

When he went back to his room I'll bet he beat his meat like it was a stepchild. I had the best orgasm I had in months, fantasizing about that.

I was curious where this would lead, and didn't have long to wait.

I knew he hung around with the other guys and that they occasionally drank beer. I had always told him that if he wanted to get drunk, to do it at home, and not out on the road.

The next Friday, I had planned to go out drinking again and wondered what the evening would bring.

I decided not to drink, and I waited until it was time to go home. When I drove in the drive way, I pretended to be drunk as I stumbled across the yard and up the front steps. Anyone watching would assume I was drunk, as always.

When I entered the kitchen, it was quiet, with the TV on softly in the living room and a lamp. The first thing I noticed was my son, in the big recliner wrapped in a blanket. Next to the chair were several empty beer bottles that he had supposedly drank. He had stripped down and pulled a blanket out on the chair. He had carefully wrapped himself in the blanket, so the slightest touch would cause it to fall open, exposing his rock-hard cock. He was either drunk or pretending to be passed out, both of which fit into my plans perfectly.

I walked over to him and touched his shoulder as though to wake him. The touch was enough to get the blanket to fall away from his monster hard-on. Again, I let out an involuntary gasp. It was magnificent. He kept his eyes shut, pretending to be passed out. I shook him gently a couple of times, but he didn't stir. I don't think he knew what to do next... but I did. I walked away and into my room, and changed into that very light little slip, that I knew he loved.

I came over to the chair and stood for a minute, then bent over and shook him gently. This time, he pretended to wake up and smiled at me. He didn't reach to cover himself up, and just sat there exposed and hard, like he hadn't noticed it was out. I asked if he had been drinking and he acted guilty, like he had been caught and said shyly, "Yeah..". I just smiled. We were both pretending to be drunk, so I just played along.

As I bent over, he could see by the lamp light, my breasts heave as I breathed with my nipples straining at the very light fabric covering them.

I said, "We'd better get to bed, it's late."

As we pretended to be drunk, I helped him stand up. As we were swaying, the blanket dropped away leaving him completely naked. The sight of that muscular body and huge cock had my pussy dripping wet.

We leaned on each other and as we approached the hall, he said "I think I have to pee." Good, he had planned ahead! We stumbled into the bathroom where he pretended to not be able to stand without leaning on the wall and the shower door. He kept reaching for his cock but pretended to lose his balance each time.

Finally, I asked, "Do you want me to aim it for you?" Perfect.

He said shyly, "Yes, please."

I reached down and grabbed that very hard cock and again a gasp escaped my lips. "Oh, my! That's really hard! I see you got your father's genes!" and we both laughed.

As my hand tightened around it, he swayed a little more, then said, "I don't think I have to go."

As we lurched out of the bathroom, I still hung on to that erect cock, even tighter than before. It was incredibly hard and long and throbbing. With my other arm around his lean, muscular waist we headed for his room. I would have settled for either room at this point. As we got next to the bed, He turned to face me with the bed behind him. I relinquished my grip on his massive dick and he had his hands on my waist. I hugged him and thrust my pelvis towards his raging cock.

Then, he fell back onto the bed, dragging me with him as he fell. I hung on to his shoulders and as we fell on to the bed, I ended up straddled him with his hard-on between my legs. We paused for a moment, now knowing what to do next. Then, as I felt his cock between my legs, I melted. I positioned myself so that his cock was now up against my pussy. It was a good thing I had taken off my panties when I changed into my slip.

I took a few deep breaths and gyrated my hips slightly, nestling his cock up against my hot, soaking wet pussy.

He pulled me down to him and whispered how beautiful he thought I was. I told him what a man he had grown up to be and that he looked a lot like his father. Now I was moving my hips and breathing heavy. I added, "You're every bit the man your father is, maybe a little larger!"

With that, I wiggled a little and his cock slipped in to that soaking wet pussy. As it went in, all I could say was, "Oh my god, you're even larger that your father, and harder too!"

We began long, slow strokes, pushing it a little farther in on each stroke as I pushed back and drove it even deeper, until I was moaning uncontrollably. He pulled my slip up over my head and reached up to feel my tits and rock-hard nipples, pinching them slightly. As he squeezed them, I gasped, "Harder, harder!" Since he didn't know if I meant the tits or the pumping, to my pleasure, he did both. By now, it was like fighting with a mountain lion. I was moaning and gasping, flailing about like I was having a seizure, back and forth, side to side.

Now I have had some great sex with my ex-husband, but nothing like this. Michael was a tiger. He moved with the fierceness of a caged cat finally let free. He came too soon, but I continued to move my hips in such a way that his erection came back immediately. We fucked for an hour, until we both had several orgasms and were exhausted.

He fell asleep and I crept out of bed and into my room. I woke him up with breakfast in bed and we started all over again, this time, for close to two hours. I taught him things about foreplay that he had never imagined possible.

I don't go out drinking any more, instead choose to stay home and have a few drinks with my son. Then, the night of fun and fantastic sex begins all over again, every night, just like I did with his dad, but without the fighting and arguments.

I know that sooner or later, he will find a girl his own age, and want to get married. I just hope he finds time to come by and satisfy his mom... several times a week!