Familiar Stranger

Finished, the towels in the laundry basket, I turned to Peter. "Okay, honey, I need to dry my hair properly, so I'll see you in the sitting room in fifteen minutes or so. Stay naked, but take your robe down in case the takeaway arrives before I get downstairs, okay? It's paid for, but there's a couple of dollars for a tip on the hallway table."

"Okay, Mom. Do you want plates warmed or are we just eating from the cartons?"

"Oh, let's be civilized tonight. Warm some plates for us."

"On my way, Mom."

An hour later the takeaway had arrived, been shared out, consumed and boosted by a dish of ice cream each. The dirty dishes were in the dishwasher, the cartons were in the trash and we each had a fresh cup of coffee to hand. We'd been eating in the kitchen and I led the way into the sitting room, triggering the drapes-closing mechanism and dimming the room, although it was still light outside.

"There," I said, "much cozier. I know no-one can see in, but it's more intimate this way." Probably to Peter's surprise, I didn't take my usual chair but took a seat on the couch and indicated he should sit beside me. We each put our coffee on the coffee table. As he sat, I turned to him and took his hand. I gave him an almost shy smile and took a deep breath. The moment I'd been anticipating, yes, and partly dreading, too, had arrived. Sink or swim, Kelly!

"I'm going to tell you something in confidence, but before I do, I want you to swear that you will never reveal what I'm about to tell you to anybody, anybody at all, without my express permission. Understood?"

"Understood, Mom. It sounds kind of heavy, but yes, I so swear."

"Okay, then. You might be able to work out who from what I'm about to tell you, but it stays our secret." I paused for a moment, then went on. "A month or so ago I was out for dinner with some friends, remember?"

"Yes, the ladies from your book society, wasn't it?"

"That's right. Anyway, I shared a taxi home with one of them and we got got talking while we were waiting for the cab to arrive at the restaurant to collect us. What she told me shocked me, but it also got me thinking, thinking and wondering. She told me that she'd been having sex with her son for about six months, and knowing I was a widow with a son of a similar age to hers, suggested I try it myself. As she put it, it would mean my being loved by a man who loved me, but not only that, it would be a worthwhile combination of my experience and his youthful vigor. She said it was the best sex she'd ever had. I laughed it off and told her 'no chance', but she'd got me thinking, thinking that if I ever found out that you wanted me in that way I'd need to give it careful thought and today what do I find out? You do want me that way!"

"Oh, wow. And? Or do I mean so? What's your conclusion, Mom?" Peter looked stunned, but I thought I detected a hint of hope, too, that I was seriously thinking of having sex with him!

"My conclusion?" I gave him a rueful smile. "No easy way around this, so I guess I have to ask you outright to be sure. Do you, or do you not, want to make love to me? Oh, hell, let's be blunt. Do you want to fuck me?"

He squeezed my fingers. "Yes, to both questions, Mom. Yes, I do want to make love to you. Yes, I do want to fuck you."

"I thought so." I laughed. "That pretty erection you showed me was a good indicator of that."

He grinned. "He tends to act independently at moments like that." He studied me for a moment, but I think he needed to know as well, and his next words confirmed my suspicions. "What about you, Mom? Do you want to fuck me?"

I held his eye for a long moment, then nodded. "God forgive me for a sinner, but yes, I do want to fuck my son." I shook my head ruefully. "Mol - my friend was right, she said I'd want to, once the idea took hold. Damn it, woman, you were right!"

"Your friend from the book society?" He grinned. "Molly Hunter?"

"That's right. I told you you'd probably be able to work it out. Our secret, though?"

"Of course." He laughed. "But it does explain why Dave Hunter is smiling more these days."

"Yeah, I guess it does at that." I leaned forward and took hold of my coffee cup, lifting it, draining it, then set it down and turned to him. I smiled and took a deep breath, gathering my courage. "How about now?"

"Now? Here?"

"Why not? Yes. Right here, on the rug."

He studied me for a moment, and when he spoke his voice was hesitant. "Can we make out a little first? I want to kiss you, kiss you like a lover, kiss you and touch your breasts."

My pussy pulsed, startling me, but the thought of Peter's hands on me in intimacy excited me. "Of course we can," I said, moving a little closer and leaning towards him, ready, willing. "I'm partial to having my nipples sucked," I murmured, just as his lips met mine. He'd kissed me on the lips before, of course, but only light pecks on birthdays and holidays, never like this, hot, wet, wanting, the kiss of a lover, my tongue slipping out to play with his, but he wasn't so lost in my kiss that he was going to ignore my breasts, and I felt his hand slip up to cup my left tit. Ah, yes! The nipple thrusting against his palm, a delight to the sensations, for both of us.

Well, he wasn't going to be the only one touching and my fingers were busy, too, one of my hands behind his neck, holding him into our kiss, the other dropping to his groin, taking hold of his now solid erection, a little gasp escaping into our kiss as I felt him. Gently, I broke the kiss, holding his eyes with mine.

"Now, honey," I whispered.

He eased himself to his feet, his erection hard and ready before him, and drew me up and into his arms for another kiss. I pressed against him, his cock trapped between us. This time it was he who broke the kiss, lowering me gently to the rug. I lay back, smiling up at him, taking a deep breath and spreading my legs, my pussy wet, ready for penetration. He went to his knees between my legs and I reached out to his cock, hot and hard and beautiful in my hand.

"I want this," I said, giving him a squeeze, "here," and I ran the middle finger of my other hand up my slit, "and I want it now."

He eased forward, stretching one arm out to take his weight, holding his cock with his other hand, angling it towards my pussy, but I reached out and moved his hand away, taking his lovely, warm hardness into my own hand.

"You push, honey, I'll navigate," I murmured, and blew him a kiss as I guided his erection into my pussy. Yes! Warm, wet, my juices were flowing freely to welcome him. He pushed in, but even as wet as I was, and I was wet, he needed to pull back and spread my juices before pushing in again until he was fully into me, his lovely, hard cock feeling wonderful in me after six years without sex.

"Oh, fuck!" I said, "That feels good!" I stretched up to kiss him, then lay back, smiling. "Fuck me, son, fuck me hard - take your mother to paradise!"

Well, he'd almost always done what his Mom told him to do in the past, and if ever there was a time for doing what Mom said, it was now, so fuck me he did, and I relished the feeling of hard cock in warm, wet pussy, the fact that it was Peter's hard cock in my warm, wet pussy only adding to the excitement. I don't know, but I don't think Peter yet had a lot of experience of fucking, certainly not an older woman, but judging by the little yips and sighs I was making he must have been doing something right, but I knew it wouldn't -- couldn't -- be long before climax, and his next words confirmed my thoughts.

"Mom, lover, getting close, can't hold on much longer," he managed to say between gasps for breath.

"Hold on a little longer, honey, getting close myself. Ease up slightly, let me get my hand in between us."

He eased up a little and I slid my hand between us, feeling for my clitoris. The mental image stimulated me, too, and I could feel that tingling almost-ache that goes before climax. Peter was clenching his teeth and I suspected he was very close, confirmed moments later as he spoke, his voice almost a gasp.

"Gonna come, Mom, sorry, can't hold it any longer. Coming, coming -- now!" And I felt the surge of his hips as his cock drove into me, his jizz boiling up his cock and spilling into my welcoming depths in three or four surges, then easing. But by then I too was was in the throes of climax and I felt obscurely proud that it was him I was sharing the moment with. Intense moments like that don't last, of course, and we gradually stilled, his cock twitching occasionally, our lungs easing in their attempts to extract oxygen from the air. I smiled up at him, lovingly, then stretched up to kiss him.

"First sex for me in six years, honey, but well worth waiting for. Thank you." I winked. "How long for you?"

"More like six weeks. Jill, a girl at college. We have a sort of mutual-itch-scratching fuck-buddy arrangement. Fun-fucking without commitment."

"Sounds sensible. Ease out, sweetheart, we'll have another swim and then we need to talk."

"Yeah, we do, don't we? First topic? Protection. Mom, you had me so excited I didn't even ask you if I needed a condom!"

"No, you didn't, did you? Good job I went to the clinic last week and got myself a new diaphragm, isn't it?"

"You knew then that we'd be fucking?"

"I didn't know, no, but I wanted to be prepared, just in case. So relax, honey, momma is safe."

He laughed. "Consider me relieved. Okay, Mom? Ready for me to pull out?" I nodded, and he pulled back, then bent and tugged me to my feet. Oops! I grimaced, my hand cupping my pussy.

"Quick, into the pool, you're running out!"

It was another fun swim, as was the shower together afterwards and this time he washed my front as well as my back, making sure my tits and pussy were squeaky clean, while I made equally sure his cock and balls were clean, too. Dried, we made our way back to the sitting room, collapsing together on the couch. I turned to him, with a smile.

"I think something stronger than coffee is indicated. There's a bottle of Napa Valley red in the kitchen. Would you open it and pour us each a glass? A big one!"

"On my way, Mom." And he was back with the two glasses of wine very quickly. We each took a sip and set our glasses down on the coffee table. I turned to him and took his hand, solemn for the moment, my face serious.

"You do realize that what we did earlier is considered both legally and morally wrong, don't you?"

"I do, but we aren't hurting anybody. We're two consenting adults sharing a private moment of pleasure, surely?"

I nodded. "I agree. I can't say -- yet - that it was the best sex I ever had, but it was, to be a little coarse, fucking great! And if we keep on having sex together, get used to each other, it can only get better, can't it?"

"Do you want us to continue?"

I felt myself flush, but nodded again, holding his eye. "Yes, I think I do. You?"

"Absolutely!"

"Okay, then, but it has to stay our secret. No behaving like lovers in public, okay? Molly says that's the hardest bit, because she feels like she wants to shout it to the world, but can't. I think that it will help Molly and me both if we can talk about it, between the two of us."

"Yeah, you're probably right." He squeezed my fingers. "Can we sleep together tonight?"

I grinned, laughing. "Yes, eventually! We have things to do first, like experiment!" I sobered, remembering something. "I promised to let Molly know, if it happened. That okay with you?"

"If it is with you, then yes." He grinned suddenly.

"What?" I said, recognizing that he'd probably thought of something, probably something naughty.

"Send her a photo. My cock in your pussy. No faces. She'll get the message."

I laughed, nodding. "You're on!" I glanced at my watch, the only thing I was wearing, apart from my wedding ring. "Nine thirty now. Let's finish that bottle of wine and then we'll go to bed, take a photo and have us some fun."

"Best idea I've heard in ages. Pass me your glass and I'll get us a refill."

An hour later, we'd finished the wine, washed, brushed our teeth and were ready for bed. And more illicit sex. I brandished my phone.

"Ready for a sexy photo, stud?"

"More than one if you like?"

"What, a sequence?"

"Not necessarily, but I was thinking three shots - one of your pussy, one of my erect cock, and one of my cock buried in your pussy. Possibly slightly withdrawn to show me wet with your juices?"

"Sounds good to me, honey. Here," I said, passing him my phone. "Pussy shot first." I lay back and spread my legs, revealing my presumably visibly wet pussy -- it certainly felt wet to me - and he took a photograph, angling the phone carefully so as not to show anything that could identify me. He studied the picture for a moment, then grinned and passed me the phone.

"Behold your sexy pussy, Mom."

"Sheesh, I look wet, don't I?"

"Because you are wet."

"Okay, stud, kneel tall, cock shot next." Shot taken, I studied the picture for a moment, then passed him my phone. "If I wasn't wet already, I would be after seeing that shot," I said, with what felt like a mile-wide grin.

"I can see why you'd feel that way," he said, laughing, because his cock looked hot and hard. Which it was, of course. "Okay, Mom, time for my cock in your pussy again. Ready?"

"Of course I'm fucking ready, idiot! I've been ready ever since we had this silly idea. Get your cock in me, and get it nice and wet." Well, to hear was to obey, and very shortly afterwards, after a wriggle or two to spread my juices, he was buried to his balls in my soaking wet pussy. He gave a quick couple of strokes to make sure his cock was good and wet, then paused.

"Time for the last photo, Mom. Can you manage, or do you want me to take it?"

"Pull out slightly, hold yourself clear with your arms straight, sweetie, and let's see if I can manage. Okay? Ready? Hold it there, honey. Okay, let's see." I studied the picture for a moment, and then laughed. "I think that will do very nicely. What do think?"

I passed him the phone and he looked at the screen. I knew what he was seeing - one lower belly, female, neatly trimmed dark blonde pubic hair, widely spread thighs, between them one torso, male, an erect penis glistening with sexual juices, well buried in the female pussy. Fairly obviously a photo taken during an act of copulation. He looked over at me and nodded, passing the phone back to me.

"I think that will do very nicely, Mom. Going to send it -- send them -- now?"

"No, I'm not. What I'm going to do now is fuck my son, since his lovely cock is still buried in my pussy, until the two of us climax, preferably together, and then recover our equilibrium together. Then, and only then, will I send Molly the pictures. For now, honey, concentrate on what we're doing, but it's okay if you let a corner of your mind think about what message to send with the photos." I stretched across and put my phone on the bedside cabinet, then turned back to him. "Okay, honey, let's fuck!"

And they were the only coherent words either of us spoke for some time as we concentrated on giving each other the maximum pleasure possible, the two of us managing to climax together in a wondrous rush of satisfaction and excitement.

"Whoo!" I said, gasping for breath. "That was good!"

"Damn right it was. Best sex I ever had, that's for sure."

"You're so like your father, it was almost as if it was him making love to me, so thank you for that memory, son."

"You're welcome. Okay, ready for me to withdraw? I'll get a washcloth and towel for us as well, eh?"

"Good thinking! And then we need to think of a message for Molly."

Using the washcloth and towel to clean ourselves up took only a couple of minutes, and when he came back from the bathroom I had my phone in my hand. I grinned at him.

"Just reminding myself what the photos are," I said. "Any thoughts on a message to go with them?"

"Something short and to the point, I think. How about, 'you were right'?"

I thought for a moment. "Maybe. Or how about, 'tab A duly inserted into slot B. Result -- satisfaction?"

"Good one, Mom. Or how about, 'look at what you made us do'?"

"Yeah! Let's go with that." My fingers flickered over the keys for a while, then I clicked on 'send'. "It's only ten-fifteen. We might get a response tonight."

In fact the response came within twenty minutes. We were just lying quietly, holding hands, when my phone pinged with an incoming text message. I read it and then passed the phone to Peter with a grin. He looked at the screen to see a picture similar to one of ours, a cock-in-pussy image, except that in Molly's shot neither cock nor pussy showed any trace of pubic hair. The accompanying message read, 'Welcome to MILFdom. Well done. Knew you would enjoy it. PS: Shaving recommended, especially for oral'.

Peter and I looked at each other, and I arched my brows. "Shall we?"

"Shave?"

"Yes."

"Not sure, Mom. We're planning on going back to Pilgrim's Bay, aren't we?"

"Yes, we are. In fact, I'd like to go tomorrow. You?"

"Sounds good. If we do, we can see how many folk are shaved. I'm pretty sure quite a few of the women we saw there today were shaved, but I'm not sure about the men. It's not something I pay attention to."

"Good point. So how about I shave, and we trim your pubic hair a little so that if we have oral sex, neither of us gets a mouthful of hair," I said, laughing.

"Sounds like a plan, Mom." He paused, studying me. "You like oral sex?"

"I loved it with your Dad, both giving and receiving. How about you?"

"Not something I have a lot of experience with, to be honest. Jill and I do it occasionally as a change of pace, or she'll maybe blow me if she has her period, but not often."

"Well, let's get me shaved, and you trimmed, and indulge ourselves, eh?"

"Sounds like a plan, Mom. Um, can I shave you?"

"Ooh, yes, please!" I replied, my pussy pulsing at the thought.

I don't think I've ever seen Peter be as careful doing anything as he was shaving my pussy, but I made sure he had easy access, and was quick to tell him if there was any discomfort, or to guide him so that twenty or so slow and careful minutes after we'd started, I was shaved clear around my pussy. Washed, dried, I applied some of my skin lotion then pronounced myself satisfied, giving him a congratulatory kiss.

"Well done, sweetheart. Good work." I grinned. "Now for you." I brandished a small pair of scissors I keep in my bedside locker and pushed him onto his back. "Keep still, honey. I don't want any accidents."

I was as careful trimming Peter's pubic bush as he had been shaving mine. I didn't cut much off, but I knew that, erect, his cock would be unobstructed for my mouth, if I wanted to blow him. And I did, I could hardly wait to get my mouth on his lovely cock. Finished, I sat back, then grinned at him.

"I reckon that will do very nicely, sweetie. I shouldn't get a mouthful of hair when I blow you, anyway."

"When? Not if?"

"Definitely when, honey, definitely when. No if about it."

"So, how about now?"

I grinned. "My thoughts exactly. Shuffle up the bed a little, and let me kneel between your legs. I'll blow you first, and then you can eat me."

"Might take a while, Mom, I've already come twice today."

"That's okay. I'm not planning on going anywhere, sweetheart, so let me at him!" And I leaned forward, my lips closing over his cock, my hair tumbling to obscure my face. I groaned inwardly at the pleasure of feeling a cock in my mouth, but not just any cock, this cock was my son's! My hand went up to sweep back my hair and I looked up at him. I winked, and he laughed, and stroked my hair. I let him slip from my mouth for a moment, my fingers continuing a gentle stimulation.