His Mother’s Lover

They would fuck each other's brains out.

That thought sent Lillian plummeting over the precipice.

And she took William right along with her.

***

Thankfully the bacon and the sausages had stayed warm. Lillian quickly fried eggs and served everything with slices of buttered toast and cups of freshly-brewed coffee.

They smiled at each other every time their eyes met over the breakfast table.

There was no awkwardness between them now.

Just the memory of the pleasure they had shared.

"I want you to run yourself a bath and pamper yourself for at least half an hour," he instructed as he picked up her empty plate. "Then I want you to go to bed and have a nice, long nap."

"Yes, Doctor," she said meekly and he laughed.

"I'm going to my room to grab a shower and study for a while." He kissed her when he came back from loading both of their dirty crockery into the dishwasher. "I'll join you in bed later."

"Not again," she said in mock horror.

"Maybe twice more," he promised and gave her a little push in the direction of the master bedroom.

Lillian thought about William while she luxuriated in the scented bathwater.

Had her son really taken her three times since last night?

And promised to take her twice more?

And hadn't he also come last night by himself.

Surely that couldn't be healthy for him?

But he is a man in his prime and must know what his body is capable of, she reminded herself.

And if he was feeling anything the same as she was feeling, she understood the insatiable need for their bodies to be joined.

She topped up the bath with hot water twice before reluctantly rinsing off and getting out the bathtub.

She reached for the duvet when she walked back into the bedroom, intending to pull it off and remake the bed as she'd done only the previous morning...and stopped.

Kurt was dead; the sheets on the bed didn't need to be always pristine any longer.

Feeling naughty, she slipped under the cover and breathed in the reminder of what had occurred on that very bed, last night and this morning.

If William wasn't revising for his exam tomorrow, she might have gone to his room, just to be with him.

But he clearly thought that he needed to put in some study and he'd always been good at judging his readiness for any exam.

She smiled and snuggled into the pillow that smelled of his aftershave.

Maybe twice more...

Could he honestly make love to her two more times?

It was the last thought that flitted through her head as she drifted off, a contended smile on her face.

She woke up when William sat on the edge of the bed and smiled down at her, wearing the forest green bathrobe she'd bought him last Christmas.

Despite the smile on his face, there was something different in his eyes.

"Mum, I want you to tell me the truth."

She knew without him asking the question that he was asking if Kurt had caused the bruise on her face he'd seen on his return from the skiing trip. She'd never lied to her son before and it had pained her to do so, especially knowing that he suspected that she was lying.

"Yes," she replied.

"I could kill him!" he said wrathfully.

"Again?" she asked with a raised eyebrow and then smiled. "He's gone, my darling. We have to make the best of the life we have left."

"How often did he hit you?" her son demanded.

"Only twice, once when I refused to put you down before breastfeeding you and the other time when I refused to persuade you to go to Sandhurst."

"Why did he stop you from breastfeeding me?"

"He said that you were too old at twenty months. I was only breastfeeding you at night because you wouldn't sleep otherwise. He came home wanting sex and was furious when I wanted to feed you first."

"I don't have a memory of it, but my whole life, every time I looked at your breasts I wanted to suck on them," he admitted, laying his head against the part of the duvet that covered her chest as though he was still the little boy who had longed for comfort. "It wasn't a sexual feeling...until Barbados."

"Your father was wrong to force me to wean you so abruptly," she said, stroking his hair softly.

He raised his head and demanded, "Was he rough with you otherwise?"

"No," she replied. "I made sure that I toed the line."

Suddenly William looked arrested, "Is he the reason you didn't come to Ireland for Ma's and Pa's 50^th anniversary?"

"Yes," she admitted.

"The bastard!" William said vengefully.

It had hurt so much to disappoint her parents for their special wedding anniversary. Her Irish mother had wanted to return to her homeland to celebrate with the hundreds of relatives she had living there.

Her brothers and their families had gone, and so had William.

She had been determined to go too, despite Kurt's ordering her not to since he was due to be posted to Afghanistan a week before the celebration and wouldn't have been able to attend himself.

All his previous threats had been idle ones, so she'd stubbornly refused to promise that she wouldn't go on the trip when he was out of the country.

He'd bought a gun to show her that he meant business.

When he'd put it to her head and asked her if she wanted to die, she'd wanted to scream, 'Yes!' so badly and end the torment, but then she'd thought about William, and her parents, and her brothers, and her nieces and nephews.

And once again she'd pretended that she had one of her fake 'debilitating' migraines, one that had required her to lie in a darkened room for several days.

Her parents had been upset at her failure to show up, even a day or two late if necessary, and for the first time her father a GP for over forty-five years had asked some uncomfortable questions on his return.

Lillian had managed to convince him that everything was alright in her marriage and that she'd genuinely had the worst migraine of her life.

Her father had been so concerned he'd wanted her to undergo a series of tests to ensure that it wasn't anything more sinister. She'd had a hard time convincing him that she was back to her usual self once she taken the necessary steps to rid herself of the headache.

Unfortunately, the gun had become Kurt's new best friend. The night before he'd been deployed, he'd put it to her head after he'd had a few farewell drinks with friends and told her that he would blow her head off, if she didn't make him come in ten minutes or less by giving him a blowjob.

The irony was that he'd started having issues with sexual function a few years prior. He usually either couldn't get an erection or got an erection and came too quickly.

That night although she had been nervous, she'd made him come in less than three minutes.

Lillian had hated knowing that the gun was locked away in the safe, just waiting for Kurt to threaten her with it again when she did something to displease him.

The first thing she'd done when it was officially confirmed that Kurt was dead, was march the gun case to the nearest police station and hand it over.

She couldn't have stood to have it in her house for a second longer.

She could tell William enough stories about his father to fill a book, but what would be the point?

Her son had to look into the mirror every day and see his father staring back at him.

If he hated his father, he would start hating himself.

"There are so many things I could tell you about your father, but they don't matter now," she told him. "I made sure that you wouldn't grow up like him and I'm so very proud of the man you've become, my darling."

"Mum," he said simply. "I wish I had known what he was like. I could have—"

"No regrets, my darling," she said and pressed her lips to his softly. "I lied about him hitting me when you came back from the Alps because I was afraid that you would take him limb from limb."

"I would have, too!" William said, wrathfully.

"I know you would have and he knew it, too. He was afraid of you."

"Afraid of me?" her son asked surprised. "Dad?"

"Do you remember that day when you...what did you call it? Rolled, I think and you held him down? Do you remember that he never practised jiu-jitsu with you again?"

"That was because of his bad back," her son explained.

"That was the first and the last time I heard of any 'bad back'," she said scornfully. "It was just a convenient excuse so that he could save face."

"Wow!"

"I was glad that he was afraid of you because he behaved himself for a long while. He even waited until he knew that you were safely away for two weeks before he punished me for not making you change your mind about Oxford. It almost backfired because the bruise took longer to heal than he'd anticipated. Even a thick layer of concealer didn't quite hide it."

"I can't believe that he would have wanted to mar your delicate skin." William touched his lips to the right side of her face where the blemish had been. "It's like porcelain."

"Thank you, my love." Lillian smiled.

It had taken her a long time to accept that her skin would never attain a tan in summer like her friends had done. She had been called every name under the sun with her red hair, pale skin and green eyes, but she'd come to accept that while she didn't fit the 'blue-eyed blonde' ideal, her looks did have some appeal.

William cupped her face with his hands and rubbed his thumbs slowly over her lips and then to her jaw line and back again, his face pensive.

"My darling," she said, sensing that he was going through some inner turmoil. "Your father wasn't always kind, but I survived. And having you in my life made every day worth living."

"Mum," he said, the word coming out choked.

"It's true, my darling," she told him. "I feel so thankful that I have you."

"I'm thankful that I have you, too." He lifted the edge of the duvet to slip under it, caught sight of her naked body and groaned, "I can't get over how sexy you are, Mum."

"Sexy?" she asked with a laugh. "Does that mean you want to have sex with me?"

"Yes," he admitted and traced the outline of her right nipple with his fingertips and watched it harden. "Are you too sore to make love one more time before I go?"

"I'm not too sore, my darling," she assured him. "You've been very gentle."

"I couldn't bear to hurt you, Mum. Not after Dad—"

"Hush now, my darling," she told him, placing her hand against his lips. "Let's promise that we'll never think or talk about your father again unless we absolutely have to. Life is too short and precious to wallow in misery. So, please make love to me, honey."

He surprised her by moving down the bed until his face was inches from the apex of her thighs.

Lillian gasped as she realized what he intended to do.

"No!" she said softly, pressing her thighs together.

Kurt had made her go down on him, but he'd never reciprocated.

"Yes!" her son replied, prying them gently apart.

"Your father never..."

Her voice trailed off at the sudden grimness of her son's expression.

"Then Dad was an even bigger fool than I'd thought." He pressed his nose against her pussy and breathed her in. "You smell so good."

Then he took his thumbs and spread her outer lips apart and looked at her as though her vagina was a specimen in the Petri dishes he'd spent endless hours examining in his little science laboratory at the back of the house.

Her clitoris throbbed in response to both the close inspection and the anticipation of his lips.

He looked up and held her gaze as he slowly lowered his head and kissed the heart of her.

"Oh!" she gasped and tried to close her legs, despite his head being in the way.

She couldn't take it!

She would surely go mad!

"Play with your nipples for me," he instructed.

She instantly obeyed him, tugging at the already stiffening peaks as his tongue laved lightly over her clitoris.

Her hands distracted from his knowing tongue one moment, then seemed to double the sensation the next.

"Oh...my...darling...please...stop...please...don't...stop!" she reached down and cupped the back of his head with her right hand when she felt his tongue pushed past her entrance.

She grasped a handful of the bed sheet with her left hand, needing to cling to something as she lost contact with the world around her.

His long arms came up to cover her breasts and started to roll her nipples between the thumb and index finger of each hand.

Her hips tilted upwards as he continued to fuck her with his tongue, the soft back and forth rasp of it making her insides quiver.

"William...William...I can't..."

She bit the back of her hand to stifle her scream as she came.

William didn't give her a moment to catch her breath. He surged upwards in the bed and pressed inside her.

Gathering her close, he held patiently still as her contracting muscles pulsed around his cock.

When her tremors ceased, he pressed a kiss on her lips.

"I can't believe how different it feels to be inside a woman without a condom," he said, making a smooth thrusting motion with his hips.

He knew that there was no need for them to worry about protection. He knew that she couldn't have any more children. She'd had to break the devastating news to him when he'd begged constantly for a little brother or sister when he was eight or nine.

"You've always worn a condom?" she asked, pleased that he taken the advice she'd given him at the age of fifteen so seriously.

"Always," he confirmed. "You told me that I always should and I will definitely keep wearing them. Especially now."

Now that he would be fucking his mother bareback and needed to protect her from any transmittable sexual disease.

He bent his head then and took her left nipple between his lips and suckled as strongly as he'd done the first time last night.

This is how it all began, she thought, as it sent the now familiar waves of pleasure radiating to her core. If your selfish father hadn't denied us both the simple, innocent joy we shared when you were a baby at my breast, it might not have created the hunger we now both need to sate.

But she was glad that Kurt had acted like the bastard he was!

Glad that because of him she now had a fantastic lover who put her needs and pleasure before his own.

"Oh, my love!" she said, tangling her hand through his hair and pressing her nipple deeper into his mouth.

He fucked her for a long, long time, pausing when it seemed as if he would come, mastering the sensation and then starting to slowly thrust again.

They kissed or gazed into each other's eyes when he wasn't at her breast.

She knew that rowing demanded peak physical fitness, but his stamina still awed her.

When he finally shuddered into his release, a few moments after her climax, she held him close.

He'd been so gentle with her. It must have been blatantly obvious to him that he was more amply endowed than his father had been.

He must have also sensed that his father who had done everything with brusque military efficiency hadn't been the tenderest of lovers.

Kurt had fucked her; William had made love to her.

Well, he had fucked her, too, she amended with a secret smile, but not in the selfish mindless manner his father had.

An hour later, he held her close as he said goodbye and she felt the press of his semi-hard cock against her stomach.

She'd forgotten just how vigorous young men could be. With his father, that had been a curse. With William, it would mean guaranteed satisfaction whenever they were together.

She would ache for several days, but in a good way.

"I don't want to leave you," he groaned. "But I promised to help Bridgette prep for her exam."

"Go, my love." Lillian eased herself out of his encircling arms. "Remember, you can come to me whenever you need me. If you just need a hug, we'll hug. If you want more, then we'll have more."

"I'll definitely want more," he said and pulled her close for another kiss. "And often."

"It will be as you wish, my love."

He gave her one last, long lingering kiss, opened the door and walked briskly to his car.

She waved as he drove smoothly away in the Jaguar F-Type that had been his father's pride and joy and smiled to herself.

His father had refused to let William drive the car although their son was a safe, competent driver.

Now the car was her son's and he could drive it whenever and wherever he wanted.

Kurt had likewise been possessive about her. He'd threatened to shoot her and any lover she thought of taking to her bed and it hadn't been an idle threat.

Kurt had thought he'd owned her as he'd owned the car.

It was ironic that the son, he'd told her was a 'pussy' for not being noble enough to want to defend his country, was now fucking his cherished wife and driving his prized car, and doing a mighty fine job of both.

Kurt was probably turning in his grave right now.

Served him right!

He had destroyed all the dreams she'd had as a young girl, wanting to travel the world, wanting to be a teacher and wanting a houseful of children.

Thankfully, she could still be a teacher and travel as she'd wanted now.

He might have been a bastard, but at least he'd provided the means for her to now do some of the things she'd dreamt.

Despite herself, she still felt sorry that he had lost his life at such a relatively young age. She hadn't wanted him dead. She'd just hoped that he would focus his obsessive love on someone else and leave her to get on with the rest of her life in peace.

And despite everything he'd done, she would have grieved for him. She wouldn't have been able to help herself—good or bad, he'd been a part of her life for twenty-seven years.

He wouldn't have deserved her tears.

She was so grateful that William's lovemaking had taken her mind completely off his father's death.

Nothing else would have been as effective.

She should feel ashamed, but she didn't.

She felt curiously at peace and blissfully satiated.

Sexual frustration had been part of the problem since Kurt's death.

As much as her late husband could be a selfish lover, there was always a period of a week or so when he returned from active duty and couldn't get enough of her. He would pop Viagra every night for this period and would fuck her enough so she too was able to find release.

Gradually, he wouldn't bother with the pills or about ensuring her satisfaction.

Knowing that he would be home soon, her body had readied itself in anticipation of those first good days of fucking.

And even the shock of his death hadn't doused her need.

In frustration, she'd tried to masturbate twice, trying to imagine his hands on her body, but she had been left unsatisfied both times.

Now she would imagine that it was her son rather than the dildo filling her and when she pushed her breasts up and sucked on her nipples, she would imagine that it was her son's lips and not hers.

And if William stayed true to his promise, and she had no doubt that he would, she wouldn't need to masturbate away her frustration.

Her son's regular attention would keep her more than satisfied.

Damn the 'sex police' who would cart her off to jail in handcuffs for what she was doing with her own flesh and blood.

Where had they been when she hadn't been able to escape Kurt and his cruel treatment of her?

She would have remained scarred for the rest of her life or needed years of therapy to feel as hopeful as the girl she'd once been.

Being touched gently and held tenderly by someone who was almost exactly Kurt's mirror image was a precious gift.

It felt as though life was beginning where it had been cruelly ended two months after her thirteenth birthday.

Instead of lying on some therapist's couch crying bitter tears as she rehashed all she'd gone through with her husband, Lillian would use her own version of 'sex therapy' to heal her wounds.