Magnanimous

He glances at my legs, then looks away. "Yeah, I guess so."

I dare myself to go further, more personal. "Edward, can I ask you something else?" He nods. "Have you ever, well, gone all the way with a girl?"

He bangs his fist on the table. "I think you know the answer to that one, mom."

He's right, and what's more, I cringe inside, appalled by my own perverted thoughts for asking it. "If that's a no, I again say that's nothing to be ashamed of. What you need is—"

"Confidence, I know," he says, his tone tired and cynical.

"Confidence, yes, and a woman, one who's been around the block a few times. One of my girlfriends has a daughter who fits that bill, Penelope Schroeder. She's cute and she's smart and she's—"

Again, he bangs his fist. "Spare me, okay? Those fix-ups never work for me. They're disasters waiting to happen."

I struggle to keep my outrageous thoughts to myself. "You can't just give up. Give Penelope a chance, yourself a chance."

He shakes his head. "It won't work, mom. Believe me, it won't work."

My son doesn't turn me on; however, the idea of seducing him does. Would it be so wrong to give him the experience—and by extension—the confidence he so desperately needs? Jesus, what am I thinking? I feel so dirty, so perverted. And yet...

"Then maybe you should think about trying something that will work," I say. Edward's never been shy about telling me I'm attractive. Not that that means he harbors incestuous thoughts. Then again...

"Any ideas, son?" I rub his forearm, trying to keep subtle as I venture forth. This is scary stuff.

He jerks away, while at the same time he swipes his hand over his crotch. He tries to be discreet about it. Regardless, I catch him.

"Any ideas?" I repeat.

He bolts up from the chair. "Mom, that's enough. I don't need my mother to help me with my sex life."

Still seated, I glimpse at his crotch, catching a bulge that I doubt was there when I first walked in. "Maybe you do," I say, training my eyes between his legs.

He backs away. "Holy shit, mom, what are you up to?"

"I was trying to get you to call Penelope." My words are measured, my voice steady and calm. "But since you rejected that idea, I thought maybe..." I can't say it, won't to say it. This crazy idea of mine can only work if he meets me halfway.

He puts his hand to his forehead. "You thought maybe what? That you're the woman you said I needed, the one who's been around the block a few times?" He rubs the back of his neck.

I grin, say nothing.

"I fucking can't believe this, my own mom propositioning me. Holy shit! You're outrageous." He takes a few paces across the hardwood floor. "What is the matter with you? First you take up with my best friend, and now you're suggesting..." He shakes his head—all the while staring at my legs. "Un-fucking-believable!"

I stand up and throw my hands on my hips. "Me thinks my son doth protest too much. Look, I'm just trying to help, okay? You're going on twenty years old, and you've never been laid. You're horny, you're frustrated, and you've never been shy about telling me I'm hot. Well, maybe not hot, but attractive. Like I said, I'm only trying to help. It's a love offering, Edward, nothing more."

I figure he'd run from the kitchen if my idea is that obnoxious to him. Instead, he continues to pace the floor, doing circles around our island, shaking his head. Then: "And what would your boyfriend say about his girlfriend jumping into bed with her own son?"

"Beats me. My feeling is he might accept it given the circumstances. He's one of the most sensitive, understanding people I've ever met, regardless of age. That said, I wouldn't tell him. He'd know only if you told him. It's a risk I'm willing to take."

"How magnanimous of you, mom."

I throw my arms up. "Okay, that's it, I'm done. The ball's in your court, Edward. Do with it what you will. I've tried." Then I stroll out.

We keep our distance for the rest of the day, each doing homework, Edward's from college, mine preparing lesson plans for my students. We have a tense dinner together, saying very little. Then, close to nine in the evening, he knocks on my bedroom door. I'm already in my nightgown, watching TV. After inviting him in, he stands by my bed, barefoot and still in shorts and t-shirt. Shyly, he says, "So, how will this work?"

I sit up in bed. "Should I assume you're referring to what we discussed earlier?"

He grins sheepishly. "You can assume that, yes."

"What changed your mind?"

He shrugs. "I've gotta start somewhere, I guess."

Swinging my legs over the bed, I sit on the edge of it with the hem of my blue nightie hiked three-quarters up my thighs. I'm not wearing panties. He gets an eyeful. Had I known he'd come calling, I'd have shaved.

"Well, we can start with this," I say, rubbing my hand over his crotch. "This was growing earlier, wasn't it?" He looks away. "There's nothing to be embarrassed about, honey, consider yourself normal."

"But you're my mom. I'm not supposed to...never mind."

"The Freudian Oedipus thing is probably more common than you think," I say, then proceed to tug on his waistbands, pulling his shorts and briefs down to his knees. "Hmm, nice." I massage his organ, circumcised and of average size from my experience. I don't believe I've seen it since he was in grade school. "That didn't take long," I gush, watching it inflate in seconds.

He closes his eyes and rocks his head back when I take it in my mouth. "Damn that feels good. Are you gonna make me come like that?"

I giggle. "Only if you want me to. But just remember, we have more to do." He watches me rub my pussy as I do this, and that seems to ramp up his drive even more. Not a minute passes before the white, sticky stuff gushes forth. "Geez, you might be hornier than I thought." I lick some of it off, then reach for a tissue to mop up the rest.

He slips off his clothing and joins me under the covers. From his moves—or the lack of them—I get the impression that he's never even been to third base, perhaps not even to second base. "There's many ways to please a woman," I say, and then proceed to demonstrate. "Welcome to seduction one-o-one."

"Very funny, mom," he says, trying to get the hang of oral breast stimulation. It's almost comical the way he experiments with various tongue movements. I resist the temptation to laugh, least I add to his insecurities.

My nipples get hard, but I'm only mildly turned on. This is so clinical! Edward, on the other hand, awkward as he is, starts rising again when I show him the finer points of female genital stimulation. After getting through his initial jitters, he's fascinated with my pussy, my clit especially, the way it gets hard after he licks it. For a novice cunt licker, he's not bad, uttering nary a complaint about the smell. Good thing I took a shower after being with Henry.

Now I'm starting to feel more relaxed, starting to enjoy this on a less clinical level. "Ooo, you're making me hot," I purr, lying on my back, my nightie pulled up past my butt.

He rubs my thighs at the same time. "Your legs are so smooth," he says, "I love feeling them."

I'm wet enough for him to enter me and he's eager to do so. Except we haven't even kissed yet. My fault, I confess, skipping the most important preliminary of all. Not that's it's too late. "Women love it when you kiss them at the same time you make love to them," I inform him. "I speak from experience." I stick with the basics, missionary, letting him take top. Then I guide him in.

"Like this, mom?"

"Yes, like that," I assure him when he leans over to kiss me. "Another thing. You don't want to come too soon. Women take longer to climax. So, ideally, you want to last long enough for that to happen. It's not absolutely necessary, but we're so appreciative when guys can hold out, when they put our needs up there with their own."

It's the second time around, so I figure he can hold out longer. "That's it, pace yourself," I pant, feeling like a cross between a lover and a track coach. I rub my legs against his body, my smooth, tan legs that he loves so much. Jesus, he's so hard, and what potential, able to do this not long after coming in my mouth. He should make some girl very happy one day.

"I'm hitting my stride, mom," he says, beaming and gratified.

"I'll say!" Damn, this is so hot, so wickedly hot, making love to my own son! Ohmygawd! I had no idea it would be this hot! This kid is learning fast, trying variations on the kissing theme, tonguing my breasts and licking my tummy, telling me I smell good. Yep, I know, Henry said the same thing. They all do.

"Getting close, mom, getting close?"

"Yes, yes!" I feel dizzy and begin to quiver. If I black out as I did with Henry...No, can't do that, it might scare him. "How are YOU doing? I mean, can you hold out?"

"No problem," he says, a bit smugly. He's becoming more confident right before my emerald green eyes.

"Your first time and already you think you're a stud," I tease.

He chuckles. "I don't hear you complaining."

That's for sure! I can't do much of anything at the moment. Waves of sensation roll in, over me and through me. Closing my eyes, I ride them on the edge of blackness, shaking with anticipation. Then I cry out as the sparks fly, as my once virgin son takes me to that special place.

Edward now knows it's his turn and he alters his pace, from jogger to sprinter. Only seconds pass. Then: whammo! He explodes, shooting his jizz into me (I'm on the pill), while a litany of orgasmic sounds roll off his tongue in staccato bursts of glee. Then he collapses on the bed and throws an arm around me. "So, am I as good as Henry?"

"Are you what?!" This catches me off guard. "Edward, we're not on the tennis courts. Making love isn't a competitive sport. For a novice, you did great." I kiss him.

He frowns in disappointment. "I didn't think so."

Sitting up, I say, "Edward, I'm your mom, not your fulltime lover. There's a whole different dynamic at work here. I hope what we just did gives you the confidence to move forward socially. Congrats, you're no longer a virgin."

His cheeks slightly red, he grins like a child hopeful for another toy. "Can we do this again? I mean, some other time. I need more practice."

I didn't anticipate this. "Honey, I'm in a relationship," I say softly. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I wipe jizz from my cunt. "Like I said, you were great for someone with so little experience. More practice? There's lots of women out there, including Penelope Schroeder."

He gathers his clothes from the floor. "Okay, but let's say you weren't seeing Henry or anyone else. Then would you?"

I sigh. "Perhaps, maybe, I'm not sure. Look, I had fun, too, but I can't say I'd be fully comfortable bedding my son on a regular basis. Take my, um, magnanimity, and mingle. And don't compare yourself to Henry or other so-called studs. You've got plenty to offer—in more ways than one." I wink.

*****

Penelope Schroeder doesn't work out for him. However, another girl does, a girl named Susan he meets online.

Meanwhile, Henry and I carry on, becoming closer as the weeks pass. Just as I thought, now that Edward has a girlfriend, he's more accepting, though far from fully onboard. He and Henry remain estranged. Henry's parents are another matter. When our relationship becomes all but impossible to keep secret, they shun me and nearly kick Henry out of their house.

The closeness and trust we share emboldens me to reveal my onetime "lesson" with Edward. My instincts are right; he understands. "You did it out of love," he says, "I get it." He pauses. "Now I've got something of my own to reveal."

"Reveal away," I say, dancing my fingers across his bare chest, in bed at the Quality Inn.

"I love you."

My eyes mist up. Then I start kissing him. "I love you too, Henry," I say, before we commence to pleasure each other in the manner in which we've become accustomed.