Fit to be Tried

It's hard to pinpoint a particular moment when it started. I guess it wasn't long after my divorce. Over a gradual stretch of time he became more protective. Territorial, you could say. Even possessive. I'd like to be able to say I didn't see it coming, but I did and I chose not to do anything about it. I knew it was wrong. I knew I was flirting with danger. But the simple truth is that I didn't care. It made me feel good to have a strong, incredibly handsome, much younger man treat me like something special at a time when I felt anything but. The fact that the much younger man in question was my only son, Jacob, only made the sweet feelings that much sweeter.

I accepted the fact a long time ago that I'd always be looked on as pretty but never beautiful. I have fine, blonde hair that I wear straight and cut just off the shoulder since my divorce. I have blue eyes and a pleasant smile. I've also loved being athletic all my life, especially doing yoga and working out with weights. I'm not bulky, but definitely more muscular than I ever set out to be. The result is having an ass and pair of legs that look tight and shapely in whatever I feel like wearing. My tits are moderately large, but full and shapely as they ride up high and proud.

When I was younger it bothered me that so many guys liked softer girls than me, but I learned how to live with it. I wasn't like them and never would be. It was plenty for me to know the impression I could make walking through the mall in a tight skirt or yoga pants. What I didn't realize until much later was the impression I was making on my son. But I guess having a fit body and only being seventeen years older than Jacob were things I didn't think much about. That was just our reality. So when he gravitated toward dating athletic girls in high school it didn't seem out of place. I liked the girls my son dated. They were the type of girls I could relate to.

I divorced Jacob's stepfather just before he turned eighteen. He had never met his biological father, who was as young as I was when Jacob was born. He was totally uninterested in being a father. That was fine with me since my own father took good care of me through the pregnancy and for the couple of years after. Tragically, my father was taken all too soon by a sudden heart attack, leaving me with the house and my growing son. The house was paid off by then, and when I got married three years later I held on to it, renting it out for the extra income.

My husband was fifteen years older and very affluent, so the rental income on my house wasn't really necessary, but I set up two accounts at the time. One was for Jacob's education while the other was more of a rainy day fund that my ex-husband never knew about.

Jacob never bonded with his stepfather. The two of them never got past being in competition. My son was of course my first priority in everything, but as long as I kept my husband well fucked he wasn't concerned about much else. It was a marriage of convenience. Jacob and I had safety and security while my ex had a fit, young blonde wife who was willing to dress like a trophy slut at business and social functions, and take very good care of his cock whenever he asked. I excelled in my role, but as often happens with marriages with mine, my husband eventually opted for someone younger, though not as fit.

It came as no surprise. I had been Barry's second wife and was twelve years younger than his first. In the beginning, I was very taken with the fact that I had the attention of a wealthy, older man. More than once I had to wonder if maybe I had daddy issues, but I didn't dwell on it. It was exciting to challenge myself to meet his unusual sexual demands, like jerking him off under the table at restaurants. Or letting him fuck me in front of other people at parties. Then there were the blowjobs for a few of his business associates, especially when we were out of town and staying in hotels. He was always there to watch and stroke his cock.

And a few times I even agreed to threesomes with some of these other men. I'll admit I liked having two cocks at once. On his own, Barry was becoming less and less interesting, to the point where the only time I could orgasm was if we were playing with another man. As for him, he was at a point where he could only cum by jerking off while watching another man fuck me.

I never minded. I learned that while I might be a little submissive on the surface, on the inside I knew I was always in control, always physically stronger than the men I was with. I had the pussy. I was the one who was really in charge.

In the end, Barry offered a generous settlement. I took the money and ran. Jacob and I moved back into the house I inherited from my father the moment it became available.

And that was when my son started becoming much more attentive. I barely noticed the fact that he was gradually dating girls from school less and less, until after his eighteenth birthday when I realized he hadn't dated in months. By the time he graduated and summer began he was at home with his mother every night unless he was out with his male friends.

As for me, I only dated two men after my divorce. They were both supposed friends and business associates of my ex, and each was only a one date proposition. I let them both fuck me. I wanted their cocks, and they were both so eager to lay their hands on me that I realized they'd been wanting to fuck me since long before my divorce. Well, I gave them each their chance. I never regretted fucking them, but neither was what I'd call a memorable experience, except for the fact that by this time in my life I'd slept with a total of a dozen men yet had never made love with anyone.

I resigned myself to the idea that making love was merely something other women read about in preposterous novels. My dates were practically carbon copies of my ex in sexual terms. They put their hard dicks inside me and pumped away to please themselves. It felt good for as long as they were in my pussy. I've always loved the feeling of being filled with dick. But then they came, totally unaware of the fact that I never came until I fingered myself after they fell asleep.

Now eighteen, Jacob became noticeably irritable on those two, odd occasions I dated. He was sullen and quiet, and when I didn't come home until those mornings after he barely spoke to me for days. The fact that my son was seething with jealousy was the last possibility I ever imagined. He was the reason I stopped accepting offers from men, most of whom were either friends of my ex's or friends of the two I did say yes to. I kept a vibrator hidden away in a drawer in my bedroom, and that was what kept my pussy more or less satisfied, though I found myself using it more often than I ever planned to when I bought it.

It was enough to keep me from spreading my world class legs for men I didn't like very much, and the orgasms were much more reliable. And I didn't have to deal with the shame I felt the way my son looked at me after being with a man. It made me feel like I was cheating on someone, though it never occurred to me to think I was cheating on my son. Looking back, I now see that some relationships are forged long before they're physically consummated.

Even though we didn't need the money, I got my first job as a night clerk at a hotel in the center of the city where we lived. It wasn't a very complicated job. They trained me and I learned about the business until they made me the night manager. This made it possible to be around during the day for Jacob while he was still deciding what to do about college. I'd get home at around midnight, and my son was always awake and stayed with me as I wound down from my night.

At work, I had to wear a snug pencil skirt and white blouse, with a short-waisted jacket that had a name tag. Company regulations also required me to wear pantyhose and three inch heels, no more or less. Sometimes I think one of the reasons I got promoted so quickly was that I looked so good in the uniform. I wasn't above wearing the skirt a little shorter or keeping the blouse unbuttoned as far as regulations allowed, which meant I could reveal enough cleavage to draw the eyes of appreciative guests.

Even as the manager, the job required me to be on my feet for most of the night, so I was always tired and sore when I got home. Jacob was always there to keep me company on the living room couch as I would lie back and tell him about my night. It felt so nice to have such a handsome and attentive listener as I complained about difficult guests or idiotic policies being dictated by upper level management. I never doubted that he was listening, but as I'd stretch out and lay my feet in his lap I often caught the drift of his eyes over my hose-clad legs when my skirt bunched up higher on my thighs.

It made me smile to myself whenever I caught my son's eyes drifting up and down his mother's firm, shapely legs. Not only that, but I enjoyed the luxurious feeling of just being able to rest my tired feet in the lap of a handsome, young man. It was wrong, but I started letting my skirt ride higher and higher on my legs to encourage Jacob's wandering eye. It seemed harmless enough to let my son admire his mother's pretty legs. He was enjoying himself and making me feel good at the same time.

I should have stopped what I was doing the night I spotted the very sizeable bulge in my son's flannel sleep pants. But I didn't. I was shocked at first. Could he really be that aroused just from looking at my legs and having my nylon clad feet on his lap? But my physical reaction was something else entirely. Something I couldn't control. I realized it was probably the first time I was aware of being able to arouse a man who was physically stronger than I.

I felt heat swarming through my pussy, and by the time I went to bed my panties were soaking wet. I couldn't sleep until pumping my slick hole with a pair of fingers while trying to imagine what my son's man-sized cock looked like in the flesh.

Being a pair of night owls, it was past nine when we both got up and wandered into the kitchen for coffee. I'd slept naked, falling into a blissful sleep after my climax, but before making an appearance in front of Jacob I pulled on a pair of panties and a robe. Maybe it was a subconscious choice, but I put on a robe I'd never worn outside my room if my son was home. It fell a scant couple of inches past the level of my smoothly waxed pussy, leaving my tightly toned legs almost completely displayed. At least with panties on if I had to bend or stretch then my essentials would still be covered.

Jacob was already in the kitchen when I got there. He was wearing the same flannel sleep pants but not the T shirt he had the night before. It wasn't unusual to see my son without a shirt, but I couldn't help noticing his muscular, young body with a new appreciation. Maybe it had something to do with the way he'd been treating me lately, not to mention the way he was starting to look at me. He was starting to get a certain sparkle in his eyes that was beyond the normal way a son looks at his mother. It was there the moment I walked into the kitchen and he couldn't hold in his surprise when he saw me in my revealing robe.

Jacob's eyes traveled hungrily along the length of my legs, and then up to the swells of my C cup tits under the thin material of my robe. When he finally looked at my face I couldn't help flashing him a shy smile while I felt myself blush. He poured coffee for me and set the cup on the table as I sat down in front of it. He took a seat across from me and my nipples started to grow hard as I admired his beautifully defined chest and shoulders.

We were making our usual morning small talk, but I was dying to find a way to broach the subject of his erection on the couch the night before. We were talking about our respective plans for the day while my mind was consumed with thoughts of making him hard again. I knew the possibility of ever seeing my son's erect organ in the flesh would probably never happen, but the memory of that long, strong looking bulge in his pants was enough to make my sex lips moist.

"I thought I'd go look at a couple of campuses today," he was telling me, though the words were getting lost somewhere between my ears and my brain.

"Good, good," I replied, barely aware of what I was encouraging him to do.

"I guess you're working tonight?" he asked.

The mention of work brought me partway back to reality. "Yes, sweetheart. But I'll go to the gym first. I guess if you're visiting campuses you won't be coming to the gym with me."

"Not today. Wish I could, though."

"Me, too, baby. I always seem to have more energy when you're there."

"Tomorrow for sure," he said.

I smiled and got lost for a moment gazing at his bare chest. "I'll, umm, be home around the usual time," I told him. "Think you'll be home tonight?"

"Where else would I be, Mom?"

"Well, it's summertime and you could be out with your friends. Or with some pretty girl."

"I will be with a pretty girl," he said without skipping a beat. "Just as soon as she gets home from work."

It was silly but I couldn't help blushing. "You're going to spoil me," I admitted. "Not that I'm complaining."

Jacob got up and came around to my side of the table. He leaned over and hugged me from behind while I remained in my seat. His strong arms circled around me and came up against the bottoms of my tits while he nestled his face into my neck and kissed me.

"I like spoiling you, Mom. You deserve it since you've been spoiling me forever."

I reached back and groped for the back of his head, holding him in position. "I love you more than anything, baby. I hope you know that."

"I do. And I love you even more."

He kissed my cheek, just catching the corner of my mouth with his lips. Without thinking, I turned and caught his mouth with the next kiss. It was brief but just bordering on inappropriate. His arm then slid against the undersides of my tits as he pulled out of the hug, leaving me with a pair of throbbing nipples as he walked out of the kitchen, saying he was going to take a shower.

I waited until I could hear the water running, then untied my robe and let it fall open. Scrunching down in the chair, I caressed my naked tits with one hand and pushed the other into my panties. Anxious fingers rubbed my slit as I thought of my naked son in the shower. I was yearning to know if he was hard and remembering the weight of his mother's tits on his arm while he stroked his swollen man cock. I pushed a pair of fingers into my broiling pussy and fucked myself right there, half wishing he would walk in and catch me.

Twisting and squeezing my hard nipples, I pumped my fingers into my hole until I climaxed harder than I was ready for. My pussy exploded and actually squirted around my fingers into my panties. I'd heard of women squirting before, but I'd always been skeptical. Until then.

After the glow of that delicious climax wore off I came to my senses and pulled my robe closed. I tried to pretend the last thirty minutes never happened at the same time trying to convince myself it could never happen again. Later that morning I punished myself at the gym and pushed through an extra twenty minutes of self-torture. Fortunately, Jacob was out when I went home to shower and dress for work.

It was a mixed blessing to end up having a hellish night at my job. It seemed like one problem needing to be solved kept coming up one after another. It kept my mind off of my rash behavior in the morning, and the sore feet and aching muscles I was left with on the way home felt like an apt reward for my indiscretion. But then I set foot inside the house and my whole attitude changed.

I went in through the side door leading into the kitchen. In the room beyond, the living room, Jacob was sitting on the couch watching television. He was wearing a loose pair of drawstring shorts and nothing else. I stopped in the doorway between the kitchen and living room and took a moment to just look at him. There was no way to help the fact that he was so beautiful. No shortage of girls and women paid him plenty of attention, but I also knew that the way I looked at him would always be through the filter of a loving mother's eyes. I was still standing there when he turned to acknowledge my presence.

"Hey, Mom. How was work?"

"Ugh. Terrible," I said. I went in to join him on the couch as I did every other night, but this time I felt an apprehension that made me tremble inside. I was afraid I loved being with him too much, and that it seemed so wrong I didn't feel disgust for seeing the erection he had the night before or for the way he'd hugged me that morning. Not to mention fingering myself openly in the kitchen, wishing he could've seen what he reduced me to. But when I slipped off my heels and sat down, letting my skirt ride high on my hose-clad legs I felt an illicit sense of comfort to catch my son's eyes darting over my thighs.

"Wanna talk about it?" he asked.

I took in a deep breath and tried to appear as if I was paying full attention to the conversation. "Not really," I said. "It was just...so busy. One problem after another."

He looked at me curiously. Normally I would've been stretched out on the couch with my feet in his lap by now. I didn't want him to think I was avoiding the contact that was normal for us. Besides, the inner trembling of fear I had before disappeared when I saw that look in eyes as they traveled over the shape and contours of my well exposed legs. I felt so completely at home and filled with comfort, even knowing it wasn't the way I was supposed to feel.

"Why don't you stretch out and relax like you usually do?" he suggested. "Sounds like you need it."

As I stood up to unzip the side of my skirt and let it fall to the floor near my shoes, I tried not to think about what I was doing. It wasn't so unusual for me to take off my skirt in the living room at night. With my panties and pantyhose on, along with the tails of my blouse providing the illusion of modesty, I'd never thought too much about letting Jacob see me that way. But tonight I was acutely aware of his gaze as I arranged the pillows on my end so I could prop myself up a little and lie down with my feet in their usual place on my son's lap.

I watched him let his eyes trail up along my legs to where the bottom of my blouse didn't quite cover the tapered V shape of the lacy white panties I had on under my hose. When his eyes came up to my face I gave him a smile, despite still feeling nervous. I wanted him to know he was busted, but that it was alright if he wanted to look at his hot, youthful mother the wrong way. He smiled back even more nervously and quickly turned his head toward the TV.

"Ahh, you're right," I sighed. "I do need this."

Jacob took one of my feet in his hand and started rubbing the bottom of it with his thumb, just teasing me with the hint of a foot massage. I sighed deeply to encourage him, and then he took my aching foot in both hands and started mashing his thumbs along the bottom of my foot.

"Just relax, Mom," he said. "You had a long night. Just let me take care of you."

"Baby, you're so good to me," I said with another pleasurable sigh. "You're the only one."

"Let's keep it that way," he replied so softly I wasn't sure I heard him right.

The way he was rubbing my foot felt so good I even let a soft moan escape my lips. I settled more deeply into the cushions of the couch and gave myself over to the pleasure of his strong fingers. He firmly manipulated my foot from my toes to the heel, moving on to my ankle and up along the flesh of my calf. My whole body relaxed into the luxury of my son's attentive hands, and by the time he started on the other foot I felt like I was somewhere between drifting into a dream and feeling tingles of arousal all across my body. My eyes closed and I couldn't keep from wondering if Jacob's dick was getting hard as he admired my fully exposed legs.