Lance's Seven Sins 02: Pride

"How drunk am I, and how loose are your lips?" I whispered into his ear.

"Very and not at all," he murmured, then pulled away a bit.

"Ha.. a good liar, just like a great bartender should be," I countered, looking straight into his eyes.

"Part of the job," he shrugged.

"Well, Jack, I'll put it this way. If you tell even a single soul, then I'll make your life at home not so happy. Catch my drift?"

"I know what you're capable of, and I forced the issue, so I guess I'm sleeping in the bed I've made."

"You're damn right you are. Close me out, and I'll tell you," I demanded.

"Right away," he accepted, turning towards the register. A short time after he handed me a closed book with the check inside. I took a peek and rolled my eyes. Why do I always cover Stacy's drinks? No wonder she likes coming here with me so much.

"Okay. What would you do - assuming your wife isn't in the picture - if your 18 year-old daughter turned out to be the embodiment of your sexual fantasies, and she had recently given you good reason to suspect that she would be open to exploring that potential?"

"..Holy fuck," Jack softly exclaimed, eyes wide and mouth agape, leaning back a bit, "..Wow.. You are dealing with some shit."

"You get why I'm not touching anyone right now then?" I finished my water and pushed it towards his edge of the bar.

"I wouldn't even be able to come into work with that kind of fucked up scenario at home. I can't even tell you that I'm going to have any good response for you until after consulting a therapist."

"What's your first instinct say?" I pleaded.

He did a double take to check who might have been listening in. "How drunk am I, and how loose are your lips?"

I chortled. "Very and not at all."

Jack chuckled as I stood up from the stool. "Fuck it," he announced.

I smiled, left enough cash to cover the tab and a munificent tip, thanked Jack, then walked out of the bar. As I strode out to my car, I could hear Stacy's cries of pleasure from the other side of the parking lot. Lucky girl.

*

As I pulled into the driveway I took note of the lights on in the house. Lance is still awake. Shutting the door to my car, I hoped that he was in his room but hadn't gone to sleep yet. I made my way to the front door with haste. It's funny how you learn the clinking of your keys in your front door like the melody of a song, and when it's off you know something's different. Perhaps you're carrying a bag of groceries, toting luggage, or just plain old drunk, but the notes of the door-opening prelude are changed tonight. I stumbled into the doorway, my pocketbook lazily hanging by my inner elbow. My foot acrobatically shut the door behind me as the rest of my body made it into the house. "I need to get to bed," I announced to no one.

"Clearly," affirmed a familiar voice.

"You're still awake? It's late," I tiredly uttered while dropping my pocketbook onto the front table and taking off my sneakers.

"It's barely passed midnight," Lance remarked. He was in the exact same spot on the couch as when I left: knees up, laying with his head on the armrest and doing the exact same activity.

I started walking over to the kitchen to grab some water. "We have different definitions of late, then."

"Apparently," he asserted. I opened the cabinet to find only a few clean glasses left; I took one, turned to the fridge and put it under the water dispenser. "Are you doing okay?"

Damn.. does he see it like Stacy did? Maybe I do look a little off tonight. Even Jack said something. "Why do you ask?"

"You just look disheveled and.. tense. Do you need help with anything?"

Just my devastating desire for your flesh sword- Fuck! What am I even saying?! I really am drunk. "I'm just a little overwhelmed is all." I started making my way back to the living room.

"Is it from work?" he prodded.

"Work definitely factors into it."

"Is there a way I could help ease your stress?" He was looking at his Game Boy while talking to me as I re-entered the room.

"I appreciate the offer, but I think I just need to head up to my bedroom."

"Oh.. I see.. it's like that," he discerned.

"What do you mean?" I queried, placing the empty hand on my hip.

"Well, I mean.. you said you were headed to your bedroom. You didn't say you were going to sleep."

If he had turned to look he'd find my face awed and defensive, but thankfully he didn't. They are definitely just covering up the shame I felt from being called out so effortlessly. Do I confirm? Do I deny? Is either going to do me any good? My mind flashed back to Jack. Fuck it. "That doesn't.. you know.. disgust you at all?"

That got him to at least turn his neck and look me in the eye. "Why should it?"

Is he playing dumb or does he genuinely not think it weird for a mother and son to talk about her sexual frustration? "Well, Lance. I'm your mother. Doesn't it make you uncomfortable to talk about that with me?"

"I.." his eyes went to the floor as he pondered for a moment, "guess it doesn't," he finished, looking back up at me. "You've been pretty cool about that stuff with me, so I guess my opportunity to return the favor has me more excited than repulsed."

Excited, huh? "Thank you, Lance. I tried very hard."

"You deserve all the thanks, Mom."

We stared at each other for a few short breaths that seemed to last an eternity. His knees flattened out, breaking the silence. Is he hiding a growing erection? I glanced over as swiftly as I could, but I didn't see anything hinting at an impending boner. "So," I began, but I didn't have any follow up. I just dropped my hand from my hip and turned to head upstairs.

"'So', what?" Lance got up from the couch, closed the Game Boy and put it in his pocket.

I turned around to see if his sweatpants were straining anything, but they were too loose to tell. No wonder he likes them so baggy. I left one foot on the first step. "What's there to say? 'I gotta go rub one out'? I'm thankful that it may not be weird to you, Lance, but there's nowhere good that that conversation goes. Good night, sweetie. I love you." I twirled back around and walked up the stairs, sticking out my ass as much as I could on the way. I am being such a tease right now.. to Lance!

"Love you, too, Mom," he said with audible melancholy.

I didn't hear him move at all as I stepped into the master bedroom, closing the door behind me. I turned the lights on and immediately started rubbing myself over my tights. It took everything in me not to go back out there and just rip his pants off. With great mental effort, I pulled my hand away from my lower body. These gotta come off first. I set the water down on the nightstand, then my clothes were quickly removed and stuffed into the hamper.

I opened my top nightstand drawer and reached all the way to the back to obtain tonight's bed partner: a 10" long, flexible, thick beige dildo. I threw it on the bed, skipped over to the bathroom, took out my hair tie, relieved my bladder, hurriedly washed my hands, brushed my teeth, closed the lights, then hopped into bed like a giddy teenager.

The outline of my spread legs was visible from the hallway light shining through the cracks in my bedroom door. I gripped the dildo firmly by the middle of the shaft and rubbed the head over my soaking slit to get it sufficiently wet. I tried my best to hold back moans, but I could tell it would be tough tonight. Once most of the top had been liberally drenched in my juices, I moved the head up to my clit. I gave up restraining my sighs of pleasure. Lance is downstairs playing his game. As long as I keep it down, he won't hear.

After stimulating it thoroughly, I prepared to feel my partner open me up. With little hesitation I pushed the head inside, the familiar sound of my wet pussy being unlocked filled the air. I let out a soft cry of ecstasy. Finally. I pulled it out and pushed it back in, this time deeper, squelching noises rising. I repeated this, breathing more and more intensely, until finally I felt comfortable enough to shove it in as deep as it could go. I gasped when the head crashed into my cervix. "Ohh, fuck. Yes," I whispered to no one.. or so I thought.

The shadow of Lance's shins moving across the door threshold caught my eye; I must have been too loud to hear him come up the stairs - they always creak a bit. I paused, filled with a dildo, waiting for the shadows to pass on by.. but they too were motionless. The emptiness of sound killed me; I both craved and dreaded him opening the door.

Should I call out to him? My sudden silence must have clued him to the fact that I know he's there. If he's anything like his father, then he's smarter than he lets on - at least his school grades indicate as much. Does he just want to hear a woman masturbate, or does he want to hear me masturbate? .. Fuck it.

I pulled the toy halfway out, then steadily began to fuck myself with it, now being less careful about making my satisfaction inaudible. My panting grew heavier as the sounds of my self love also crescendoed. "Fuck me," I purred. God forgive me. I'm knowingly asking for my son to barge in on me masturbating and fuck my brains out.. and it's turning me on! He's still out there, still listening to his mother get off. I wonder how his cock would feel inside me. Longer than this dildo, thicker, harder, hotter. Feelings his huge balls smack against my ass. Holy, fuck, I'm gonna cum so hard.

With the dildo threatening to enter my womb, I wailed a short cry of orgasmic pleasure then cut off the air leaving my lungs so that I wasn't too obvious.. or screamed something that I might regret. My eyes rolled back and the world went dark. My arms fell to my sides and my pussy squeezed out the dildo, making one last wet noise. There's no way he didn't just hear me. I looked over at the door, but the shadows were gone. Too exhausted to move, I let the dildo lie there between my legs as I drifted off to sleep.

*

Dehydration was my entire existence when I awoke the next morning. I began to replay last night's events through my head as I reached over to get the water on the night stand. Stacy always had a knack for bringing out all of a situation's potential awkwardness. My head pounded, but my mouth felt waves of relief rush through as the clear liquid trickled between my lips to the back of my tongue. Sipping on the water felt like tasting heaven.

Oh shit! I spoke with Jack about- As I began to move my legs, I bumped the plastic phallus between them and abruptly paused. The memories of last night came flooding back, and a mixture of dread and lust washed over me. Lance listened to me cum last night. He was right outside the door. I threw the covers over me, snatched the dildo, and headed to the bathroom. I dropped the fake dick into the sink and then dropped my butt onto the toilet.

Once finished, I began to wash my hands and the dildo thoroughly. As I cleaned it, I couldn't help but imagine my hands rubbing over Lance's bigger version, and I mentally groaned. Why can't I get my son's penis out of my head?! I began to contemplate whether there was any solution outside of whoring myself out to the first guy who throws himself at me.. especially if it were Lance.

It's going a little too far as it is. He stood outside my door last night, he knows that I saw him there, and I finished anyway. Worse yet, it turned me on! Maybe it's too late. Maybe we're passed the point no return, and there's too much sexual tension to not fuck.. and if that's the case, then I might as well make sure the ground rules are set. Wait- ground rules? I'm already assuming it's not just going to happen, but continue regularly! I'm hopeless. What's the best thing to do for our relationship? No, that's not the question I should be asking. What's the best thing to do for my son?

Perhaps I should talk to him about it and steer his energies in the right direction. Lance fucked Kat as much as he wanted all day, but still he stood outside my room last night. He clearly is too old to be sexually infatuated with his mother, even Freud would agree with that. I'll set things straight and tell him he should keep his focus on girls his age; I just have to find the right opportunity to bring it up.

I blankly stared downwards for another minute before realizing that I had let several go by just washing a huge model cock under the running sink. I looked up to find myself staring back at me eye to eye. My hand reached to turn the water off. I lifted the clean dildo up so that the head rose up the center of my torso. The largest fully functional penis to ever grace mankind is lying dormant in your own house, and you're going to let it just run free without at least getting yours? You deserve it; you brought it into this world. Be patient; when the moment presents itself, you will know.

The head of the dildo was just below my chin now; I bent my neck down to give it a kiss and dropped it back in the sink. I quickly showered just to soap myself down and wash my hair. Once out, I dried myself and my hair with a towel, brushed my teeth, grabbed the dildo and the hair tie from last night, and left the bathroom naked. The dildo went back to its hiding spot, and my hair tie went back to serving its purpose. I put on some booty shorts and a small tee - no bra or panties - and opened my bedroom door.

A few steps down the stairs I heard Lance's bedroom door open. Was he waiting for me to wake up? His footsteps walked towards the hallway bathroom. "Good morning, sweetie."

"Morning, Mom," he grumbled. Maybe not.

I took some orange juice from the fridge and one of the two remaining glasses from the cabinet. Before closing it, I predicted Lance might come down and that he might want some. I got the last glass out and placed them both on the counter top that served as a window between the kitchen and the dining room. The familiar sounds of the plumbing activating let me know that Lance should be downstairs soon. I plucked a grapefruit from the basket and eased it down on the counter next to the empty glasses. I set the cutting board and chose the paring knife for this operation. As I made the first few cuts, the bathroom door opened and the stairs creaked. "Would you like some orange juice?"

"Yes, please." I saw him wipe his eyes as he walked into the dining room, Game Boy in hand. He was naked except for sweatpants, the same pair he wore yesterday. My motherly eyes rolled. Boys.

He pulled a chair out on the opposite side of the table and sat down, facing the kitchen. I filled both juices and delivered one to him.

"Thank you," he uttered, turning on his system.

"You're welcome," I stated, returning to the kitchen.

I continued to make the cut into the grapefruit when he blurted out, "So did you take care of your problem?" I precipitously finished the slice, narrowly missing my fingers. My eyes went wide and my heartbeat quickened. Why would he ask? What's his goal? I'm done with these games. The opportunity has shown itself, even though it's far sooner than I thought it'd be.

"Stop that," I commanded. He looked up at me with a mixture of guilt and fear, and he froze. "Put that down," I commanded again. He did just that and even closed it, and for a second I felt powerful. I released the knife, and I wiped my hands on the sides of my shorts as I stormed over to the doorway around the column.

His shameful eyes met my raging ones, and he attempted to play it off. "I was just aski-"

"Don't play dumb with me!" I screeched. His face turned the color of his lips; he looked like a guilty dog with those puppy eyes. I have to admit: it worked. I took a look at myself and how I was acting, and it wasn't the type of mother I wanted to be. I tempered my rage and relaxed my body. "I'm sorry," I sighed. "I didn't mean to snap like that. I'm not angry- well, that's not true. But I'm only angry because I know you're not being totally honest with me. And I didn't raise a liar, did I?"

He shook his head. "No, ma'am."

"Good." I heaved another sigh, then requested, "could you put that to the side for a bit? We need to have a talk." In one motion he took hold of the Game Boy and threw it over to the couch in the living room. "Nice throw."

"Thanks," he replied, perking up a bit.

"Lance, I know you were listening to me last night." His face turned redder than before, but he remained speechless. "And before I left for work yesterday you were gawking at a part of your mother that you shouldn't be ogling - and for much longer than you should be staring at any girl for that matter."

"I'm sorry, Mom."

"Thank you. Apology accepted. I have some questions about that if you don't mind."

"But you glanced at me a couple of times yourself."

So he caught me. I sighed again. "You're right, and I'm sorry too. Before I get to that I want to ask you a few things. Is that alright?" He nodded. "Okay." What am I doing? "Do you find me attractive?"

"Well.. I don't think it's taboo for me to say that I would agree with the statement that you are an attractive woman - even for generally high standards."

I blushed a bit. "That's very sweet of you, honey, but that's not what I'm asking. Are you sexually attracted to me?"

He paused to think, then finally he spoke, "..Yes."

"Thank you for being honest. Do you find yourself more attracted to me than to the girls at school?"

"For the most part, yes." He gained some solemnity and confidence after these answers; perhaps it was a weight lifted off his shoulders to admit that. I should level with him.

"I'm glad you were able to give me a forthright answer. Now, I'd like to admit something to you that may make you uncomfortable. Do you still want to hear it?" He pondered for a moment, then he nodded. "Okay." Here goes nothing. "Your father was.. quite large.. let's say." Lance made a slightly inquisitive face, but he didn't show any aversion to the topic. "He was by far the biggest I'd ever had at that point, and he gave me a.. fetish." Intrigue filled his eyes; he's definitely caught on. "Now, I never found one bigger, but I was always hoping I would-"

"You saw it," he interrupted. I remained still as stone, hoping that an appropriate response would come to me. "You saw me," he clarified.

"Yes."

His pupils shrunk in surprise. "When?"

"Yesterday. After I left for work."

"How?"

"I came back to the house because I forgot something, but.. honey Kat is loud. I heard, I looked, then I... I watched. I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize," he smiled.

"No, I-"

"No, really. Actually it's.. I find it kinda hot that you did."

Oh, god. I just got so wet from hearing that. "Do you really?"

"Yeah. Did you.. find our sex hot?"

"Isn't that already implied by the fact that I watched?"

"Ha... nice," his smiled broadened. My eyes rolled. "So.. what are we going to do about this?" he asked.

The moment of truth. I strutted a few steps, then I lowered myself down at the head of the table in the chair next to where he sat so that our eyes could be more level.

"Well, Lance, that's the $64,000 question. It could continue further down the path it's heading, but there's repercussions to that. We have no idea how that sort of behavior could change our relationship - permanently, and likely for the worse. Also, it's possible that having this discussion in and of itself has already changed us in that way." Worry and regret beset his expression, but I persisted. "It's all unknown from here until the end, and if we choose to move forward with it, then we wouldn't be able to tell anyone. That part of our relationship would have to be taken to the grave, further enforced by the fact that it's illegal and could get me in heaps of serious trouble. In fact, my life would probably be ruined if even a rumor started, and I'd likely have to move far away."