Kristin Takes A Lover

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Her husband's away, but her son is very willing.
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epiphany65
epiphany65
3,778 Followers

I should probably warn you right now that this is a long story.

###

Kristin Saunders walked up the stairs, carrying an armload of clean towels and facecloths. It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon and she had just brought a basket of clothes in from the clothesline. She loved the way they smelled after hanging outside. She brushed her dark brown hair back over her shoulder and pressed her nose to the towel on the top of the pile, inhaling it's fresh scent. She opened the linen closet door and began stacking the items in her arms on a shelf.

Kristin was standing outside the bedroom door of her son, Alan. His door was closed, but she could hear music and voices coming from inside her son's bedroom. It was almost four o'clock that afternoon. Alan's best friend, Joey, had come over to visit and play video games shortly after lunch, like he often did on weekends and some evenings.

Alan and Joey had known one another since childhood. They lived within a block of one another in Maple Ridge and would both be turning nineteen within two months. Sometimes they were mistaken for brothers, although Alan, like his father, was nearly six feet tall with jet-black hair and blue eyes, unlike his brown-haired friend. Both he and Joey were in their first year at Hampton Technical College.

"Come on, Alan, don't tell me you've never noticed her," Joey scoffed.

"Never," Alan said, sounding earnest.

"But you've got to admit that she's pretty though. Right?" Joey added.

"Sure, she's pretty," Alan replied. "Everyone says that about her."

"Sexy too," Joey chimed-in.

"I guess... I don't know," Alan stammered.

Kristin smiled, listening to the conversation between her son and his friend. She had had not intended to eavesdrop, but when she heard Joey's excited voice above the music she paused and smiled, wondering what girl from school the boys were discussing. She knew fully well what teenage guys were like: preoccupied with sex almost constantly. She stood by the door with a smirk on her face, curious about what else she might overhear.

"She's got nice tits too," Joey remarked. "Don't tell me you've never noticed them."

"Well, it's kind of hard not to sometimes," Alan answered with a quiet laugh, sounding hesitant.

"I bet it's hard!" Joey shot back, drowning out the music playing in the background. "Just like her nipples when she doesn't wear a bra."

"But she usually does -- as far as I can tell."

"I don't think she is today," Joey said.

"No.... ah... I guess not," Alan answered, sounding nervous.

"Man, I don't mean to be disrespectful, but -- she's hot!" Joey exclaimed.

Alan laughed, but never replied.

"Have you ever seen her topless?" Joey prodded.

"Dude, she's my mom!" Alan spat out.

Kristin's heart jumped when she realized she was the topic of discussion -- not some cute girl the boys knew at school. She froze and clamped a hand over her mouth to muffle a gasp of shock, then craned her head, hoping to hear more of the conversation. Kristin smiled to herself. She knew fully well that her son had been lying to his friend -- or at least had been guilty of lying by omission.

There was silence from the bedroom for a few seconds until Joey spoke once more. "Sure, she's your mom, but she's got great tits; she's really pretty too. If my mom looked like that I wouldn't mind being a motherfucker," he said.

Alan gave a nervous laugh.

"So, have you ever seen her topless, Al?" he prodded.

"A couple of times," Alan finally admitted after several seconds.

Kristin's mouth went agape. Almost even before she had realized it, her clit began to swell and throb. She felt herself grow slightly weak as her pussy began to dampen. A flush came over her face and she smiled, recalling the times that she had noticed her teenage son's sapphire eyes linger on her longer than they probably should have.

The times that Kristin had noticed her son's apparent ogling of her she never thought much of it, or concluded that she was over-reacting. Nonetheless, she still found Alan's prolonged gawking and awkward glances at her very exciting, perhaps because of how forbidden it was. On those instances Alan reminded her of her younger brother, Patrick. Since their teenage years Patrick had been in the habit of ogling Kristin; sometimes even leering down the front of her blouse or tank top when she would bend over. Kristin had ignored her brother's improper staring, or at least pretended to. But it always aroused her as much as it probably did Patrick. She began to enjoy the power of being able to get her brother's attention and turn him on. Often these occasions ended with him slinking off to his room, presumably to masturbate. Often Kristin did the same as well -- lying on her bed and rubbing her tingling clit as she imagined being brave enough to either flash her younger brother, or allow him to fondle her. Despite how much these fantasies of illicit contact with Patrick made her horny, Kristin never acted upon them, fearing the consequences.

Kristin clutched a stack of face cloths to her chest, breathing heavier and attempting to over-hear more of the conversation between her son and his friend. Her nipples rubbed over the inside of the thin blouse she wore. She regretted her decision not to wear a bra that day and contemplated going to her room to put one on. But she did not want the boys to hear her and suspect that she had been listening to them. She braced her hand on the door of the linen closet and leaned closer to her son's bedroom door.

"A couple of times?" Joey echoed with excitement. "How much could you see?" Now the conversation sounded more like an interrogation.

"Once when I was walking by her room after she got out of the shower I saw her pulling a sweater on," Alan said.

"And?"

"I saw her boob -- the right one. The sweater was over her head already so she never saw me, but I came back in here pretty quick before she turned around and saw me," he elaborated.

Joey gave a lecherous chuckle. "Man, you lucky prick! Could you see her nipples?"

"Uh-huh... well, just the right one," Alan replied.

"I bet it looked nice."

"Ahh... it wasn't hard or anything, but, yeah -- it looked nice... dark... sort of like the colour of her hair and the ring-around was a couple of inches wide, I guess," Alan explained.

"What about the other times?" Joey prompted.

"There was only one other time. I came home from your place one afternoon and she was lying out, tanning on a towel. She had untied her bikini top, but she was lying on her stomach so I couldn't see much."

"Did you see anything?" Joey sounded excited now, as though he was growing horny from the conversation.

"Yeah... just her right boob -- the side of it. She was lying on it, so it was sort of flattened out, but the side of it kind of stuck out." Alan let out a nervous laugh.

"Well, they're really big, so I bet they hang down nice when she's not wearing a bra."

"Yeah..." Alan said, almost sighing.

"Have you ever felt them?" Joey asked.

"You mean like grabbed them? No -- no way. Of course not!" Alan exclaimed.

"I bet you sneak a feel now and again when she hugs you," Joey said, sounding accusatory, then chortled.

Alan snickered. "A few times..." he reluctantly confessed.

"I do that with my sister and one of my cousins sometimes," Joey admitted. "But their tits aren't as big as your mom's."

Kristin could feel her panties beginning to dampen as she listened to her son's salacious confessions about her. She tossed the face cloths and towels in the closet, then pushed the door ajar. As quickly and quietly as possible, she hurried back down the stairs.

The gentle wind that was blowing helped to cool Kristin's flushed cheeks. She laid back on a folding aluminum chair on the patio, sipping an iced tea. Her stiff nipples tingled as her blouse brushed over them. If her son noticed them, swollen and pushing out at her white pinstriped blouse, at least he would blame it on the breeze and not her present state of arousal.

Kristin frowned and took another sip from her glass. Now she realized that in the back of her mind she had been anticipating her son joining her later and probably noticing her firm nipples, rising from her round breasts. This was not the first time that he had inadvertently been the cause of her growing horny, but this time her emotions were stronger than all the previous.

Kristin placed her glass on a redwood table beside her chair. She pushed her shoes off, letting them drop to the tiles of the patio. The breeze was blowing up her thin, peach-coloured skirt, billowing it slightly and teasing her wet pussy through her tight, damp panties. She loved the sensation. It made her feel wanton to be lying within view of her neighbours' houses while being so horny. She wondered if anyone was watching her at that moment. Had she been braver, she would have pulled her panties off and opened her legs wider. She reached up and undid the top button of her blouse and peered inside at her thick nipples. She looked down at the thin V-shaped strip of her upper chest showing in her open blouse. Her breasts rose and fell as she breathed. The outlines of her stiff nipples were obvious through the material of her blouse. She smiled, feeling a little slutty and loving it. She unfastened another button. Now she could see a few inches of the deep cleft between the mounds of her breasts. She smiled and closed her eyes.

Kristin bent her right leg, pressing her thighs together and drawing her right knee up higher. The pressure on her throbbing clit was wonderful. She shifted her curvy hips, biting on her lower lip. Her skirt had slid up past her knees, aided by the movements of her leg and the steady breeze. The thought of her son watching her writhing in pleasure came to her and turned her on even more. She recalled one incident almost two months ago when they had hugged. Her son's muscular arms had felt wonderful wrapped around her waist. It made her feel safe and loved; something she felt less of recently. Alan towered over her by a good six inches and seemed like her protector. As they embraced Kristin rested her head on his solid chest, feeling the bulge in his jeans pressed to the curve of her stomach. The hug had been brief and chaste, at least outwardly, but as she leaned away Alan's fingertips had trailed down her and ran along the side of her left breast. The illicit touch had lasted only seconds, but it felt electric. Kristin felt herself shudder slightly as her clit began to harden. The memory of that embrace and it's forbidden undercurrent filled Kristin's mind many nights as she lay in bed with her vibrator pressed to her throbbing clit, writhing as one orgasm after another left her spent and limp on the damp sheet beneath her.

When Kristin heard the sounds of Alan and Joey coming from inside as they galloped down the steps she tugged her skirt down and straightened her back. The wind had blown her shoulder-length bronze hair about. She brushed it back over her shoulders. Looking down at her blouse and her exposed cleavage, she smiled. Even at thirty-nine, her breasts had remained firm and retained their shape as much as she could expect, considering their size. Being buxom had meant that she seldom dared venture out in public without a bra. Even at home she usually wore one. That habit had helped to stall the inevitable effects of gravity on her bust.

Time had been kind to Kristin, although she did exercise regularly and tried to maintain a healthy diet. With the exception of crow's feet and faint lines at the corners of her mouth, she appeared several years younger than her actual age. Often she noticed young men around her son's age following her with their eyes, watching as her breasts bounced beneath her blouse or sweater. She found it both flattering and thrilling to imagine them fantasizing about her. Sometimes while shopping she would bend down to inspect an item on the grocery shelf or in a store when she noticed a handsome young man admiring her, letting him catch a glimpse of her ample cleavage down her blouse or loose top. Kristin brushed her thumb over her left nipple through her blouse, then pinched it between her fingers. She smiled, growing impatient for Alan to hopefully join her outside.

Ten minutes later Alan stepped out on the patio, carrying a half-full glass of pop. Kristin twisted around in her chair to look at her son. He looked so handsome, she thought to herself. Her brown eyes moved over his body. He was wearing a light grey t-shirt. It was tight and emphasized his broad shoulders, well-toned chest and hard stomach. His jeans were tight as well and she glanced down to the front of them. He wasn't hard, or at least didn't appear to be, but the sight of his package still made her pussy grow wetter.

Alan walked around to the side of his mother's chair. He took a sip of his Pepsi and smiled as his blue eyes moved from her pretty face to her cleavage, peeking out from the top of her partially open blouse. His cock began to stiffen as bits of the conversation he'd had with Joey earlier echoed in his mind.

"Want a seat?" Kristen drew her bare feet up from the end of the chair, making room for her son to sit down.

"Thanks." Alan sat down, facing her, and placed his glass on the patio at his feet.

Joey gone?" she asked.

Alan nodded, grunting in the affirmative.

"You guys have fun?" she asked, fighting a shrewd grin.

"Yeah..." Alan said with a nod.

Kristin bent her right leg, drawing her foot back from her son's thigh. The hem of her skirt slid up her thigh a ways, exposing more of her leg. She tucked the hem between her knees, giving her son a nervous smile.

"When will Dad be home?" he asked.

"Wednesday sometime. He called me this morning from Maine."

Kristin's husband, Alan's father, Jim, was a long-haul trucker. He had real estate license, but the poor economy had forced him to seek other employment. After taking a six-month course in truck driving Jim had received a contract with a shipping firm outside of Maple Ridge. He had been doing that for two years. The money was good -- at least better than trying to sell houses -- but his absence for over a week at a time had placed a strain on their marriage. Kristin missed him. She missed his company, his help with things around the house, and she missed making love with him almost nightly. She realized it wasn't easy on her husband either and that he missed both her and their son. Kristin considered herself fortunate to have Alan living at home. He had become her closest friend while Jim was away and had taken on some of the duties that were once his father's, like light house maintenance and being supportive of Kristin when she needed it. Still, she missed the intimacy that she and Jim shared. It wasn't just the sex though. She missed being held and having her back rubbed as they lay in bed after making love. Her vibrator was a poor substitute for a real man.

"Good. I miss him," Alan said.

Kristin nodded. "Me too," she sighed.

"I bet," he said.

Alan smirked before he could force himself not to, surmising just what it was about his father and their marriage that his mother missed. He kept silent.

"What was that grin for?" Kristin demanded, feeling herself blush and knowing what was going through her son's testosterone-fueled mind.

"Nothing..." he mumbled, shifting his eyes away from hers.

"Good," she said, then smiled, looking into his eyes. "You looked like you were thinking something dirty," she added.

"Me? Never" he protested with a laugh.

"Yeah... just like your father," she jibed.

"Or my mother, he added, then grinned.

"Oh, shut up!" Kristin laughed and gave her son's arm a little shove with her foot.

Alan grabbed his mother's bare foot and moved his eyes up her smooth, tanned leg to her face. He smiled and began tickling her foot. She giggled and began to squirm about on her chair. Alan noticed that his mother's toenails were painted candy apple red. They looked pretty, he thought.

"Hey... cut that out... that tickles!" she gasped, wiggling about and laughing.

"That's the whole point." Alan worked his fingers harder into the tender sole of his mother's foot, making her squirm even more.

Alan smiled, watching his mother contort herself. He ran his eyes along her well-toned legs. They were lean and smooth. His cock began to harden as his eyes glided up to the inside of her thighs. They were parted now and Alan discovered he could see his mother's panties. They were pink and stretched tight over her soft mound. The subtle outline of her lips was visible through the fabric. He stared, wondering if she was even a little wet and what her bush looked like.

Kristin could feel her breasts shake as she reacted to her son's tickling and struggled to free her foot from his grasp. When he finally stopped she grew still and looked up at him. It was then that she saw the dumbfounded look on his face and realized where his wide eyes were. She looked down at her parted knees and quickly pushed her skirt down between them. Kristin looked up at her son's flushed face with an aghast expression. When he slowly released her foot from his hand it fell to his lap, just below the obvious bulge in his tight jeans.

"Ooops..." Kristin gave Alan a bashful smile.

"Sorry... I... I didn't mean to... I didn't think that would happen," he stammered, shifting his eyes to his erection.

Kristin smiled at Alan, charmed by his boyish nervousness and excited about him having seen up her skirt. She wondered if he had actually seen her panties, then concluded that he must have, judging by the stunned look on his face and how hard he seemed. She smiled and sat up, sliding down the chair towards her son. She placed her right arm around his broad shoulders and pulled him against her.

"It's okay, Honey. It was an accident," she said, giving him a sideways glance.

Alan nodded, moving his eyes towards his mother. He stared down at her feet and smiled. "Your nail polish looks nice. That's the first thing I noticed," he said.

"I won't ask what the second was." Katherine spat the words out before thinking, then regretted it. She frowned, knowing she had embarrassed her son.

Alan winced at his mother's remark, still staring at her feet.

"Sorry," she whispered.

Alan felt his mother's right breast pressed to his arm. Normally he would have loved being able to feel it rubbing against him, but at that moment it added to his discomfort.

"I painted them a few days ago. Since summer's here I'll be wearing sandals more often, so I wanted them to look pretty." Kristin crossed her left leg over her right knee, dangling her foot by her son's knee.

Alan looked at his mother's toenails, then moved his eyes up her shapely calf until he encountered the hem of her skirt, just above her knee. He shifted his hips and folded his arms over his lap, feeling his erection throbbing.

"They look cute," he said, struggling for something to say.

"My feet?" she asked, locking her wide eyes on his.

"Ahh... no... I'm not into feet," he simpered. "I just thought that the bright colour looked nice, that's all. You should do your fingernails too," he suggested.

Kristin giggled. She was concerned about upsetting her son any more than he already seemed, but holding him against her had fed her already strong libido and she felt like being a little risqué. "Okay... I just wondered. It's none of my business and I don't care," she said. "I just... I just thought that most guys preferred big boobs, instead of feet. If you're anything like your father, you do."

Alan nodded and gave his mother a guilty grin. His eyes shifted towards his mother's breast and deep cleavage. Her hazel eyes met his when he looked back up at her face. She squinted as she smiled and the bridge of her nose wrinkled. Alan found it endearing and sexy.

epiphany65
epiphany65
3,778 Followers