Mom Sets Him Straight

"...I'm sorry," he was saying, pulling back from me as I opened my eyes. He'd made a fine mess of my outfit, skirt, blouse, even my shoes.

"It's okay," I said calmly, feeling happily serene for no particular reason. "...You better go and clean up before your ride comes."

He hurriedly pulled up his jeans and underwear together, unable to really take his eyes off me as I used a table napkin to swab some of the sperm off my hands and arm. "Go ahead," I shooed, "Get cleaned up and think about whether you want this treatment for the next year."

"...I do."

"Hey, you're supposed to at least think about it first."

"I..."

"I'll be home from work early today, I just have like three showings and then that's it, so I'll be home by three at the latest. When you get home, if you still want it to be our deal, then take a shower and knock on our door. I'll be on the computer doing stuff."

That day was like a blur for me—no work getting done, no sales, nothing of any consequence, though I did call Dan and confess to him what I'd done. He laughed and called me impetuous, then thanked me for taking over the sales pitch that morning. I tried to listen to his intonations, to get some hint as to how he really felt about his wife doing something like this, and with his kid no less.

At home later, I was on the computer pretty much staring at the screen when I heard my son come in, listening as he walked through the quiet house, stopping outside my door and then stepping away—an almost euphoric surge as I listened to the dull vibration of a water pipe as he started taking his shower.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

That was all just under two weeks ago. I'd met him coming out of the shower that day, more prepared than at our breakfast table that morning—a bottle of Johnson and Johnsons baby oil, a thick hand towel. I sat on the edge of his bed and boldly asked him to towel off in front of me, that cock of his already rigid with teenage passion. He had a beautiful young body, five-eight, slender in his build, his chest smooth still, a thick shank of unruly dark curly hair capping off a delicately handsome young face.

I'd asked him to lay down on the bed and a squirt of oil that I warmed between my palms, that slippery heat as I slathered his hard shaft, fascinated as he went with absolutely rigid with his orgasm, a matter-of-factness as I swabbed the semen off his stomach with the towel, a chaste kiss to his forehead as I stood to go.

"Morning or night, whenever you want it," I said from the doorway. "...Now just lay back and have a nap while you're relaxed."

Morning or night proved to be morning "and" night over those next eleven days. Mornings before he'd leave for his summer job, as soon as Dan would leave for the office—and once while he was still sitting down with his coffee, Danny beckoning me to his room with a desperately subtle flicker of his eyes. And every afternoon as soon as he'd get dropped off by the truck—a shower and he'd come for me, towel around his waist, hair dampened, cock hardened.

After the fifth or sixth day he started to get more frisky, a brush of his hand along my waist, a hesitant caress against my breast as he would start coming. I'd of course shrugged off the small gropes, once even halting my masturbatory attentions to pull his hand off my left tit. "No," I'd whispered, knowing even in that instant that it wasn't fair to expect him to stay in control while I was whipping him into a sexual frenzy.

I'd told Dan all of it, shocked at first that he'd become visibly excited with the details, our own frenzy of lovemaking stretching from one night into the next, exhausted as we'd finally collapse against each other on our sweat soaked sheets. "Kid's gonna want some tit, it's only natural," he gasped as he rode into me one night, bending his head to tug at my nipples with his teeth.

And now here I was standing outside my son's bedroom topless, that clingy slip hanging down to just above my knees. I stopped out there and asked what I was doing with this. A nightlight down the hall cast shadows on my body. I was forty-three, a good forty-three but years are always years—smallish tits are increasingly a blessing as gravity holds reign over your body. My breasts were still supple, maybe a little sag, the nipples dark and small—I had good tone in my legs and ass from walking, a bit thicker in my frame than I was up through my early thirties, clear olive complexion, pretty—beautiful and gorgeous were never apt words for me, but pretty and cute always were. My hair was cut stylishly short, very businesslike—I'd long since given up yanking the lonely threads of gray out. I listened to the AC click on and shivered a bit, wishing that I still had my hair long like I did when I was young so I could shroud my son's bare chest with it, a strange thought, I knew.

"Hi," I said on entering, the bright bedside light making me blink. Danny was standing alongside the bed, naked, fully tumescent. He eyed me with apprehension, then a hungry surprise, my arms crossed in front of my bare chest, palms cupped chastely over my breasts.

"Is Dad mad?"

"You did interrupt us a bit," I smiled, crossing the room and sitting on the edge of the mattress, my son doing the same so we faced each other, our knees brushing.

"Sorry."

"No you're not," I giggled, sounding very girlish now, dropping my hands at last and straightening my spine so they were on their finest display. "...Do you like them?"

He nodded and reached—I took hold of his wrists and slowly brought his hands to them, a callused roughness as he enthusiastically felt me up.

"Can..."

I leaned to him. "Go slow," I whispered, he bent and kissed one then the other, looking up at me as he gingerly took the right nipple in his mouth and suckled. "...A little harder..." He sucked it, his tongue rough on it, I felt myself getting wet, a lightness at the base of my skull. "Bite it...just easy though..." His white teeth pinched down on it, then shifted across to the other. "Do it harder..." He tugged at it, stretching it out, teeth sharp on it, tugging, moist...

"Sit back," I said and slipped off the bed so that I was kneeling in front of him, absently teasing a peaked nipple up the length of his dick, leaned in and feathered my lips over the entire shaft, a bubble of semen shiny at the head. I kissed it off, his breath was coarse...I had to get out of here now, I sat back and stroked him to a furious climax, splayed with ejaculate, standing up too quickly on rubbery legs, wordlessly staggering back to my husband with the cum in rivulets across my chest.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Morning," I chirped as Danny came into the bright, sun-dappled kitchen. He had that mussed, just-out-of-bed look, a white tee shirt and those tired old denim cutoffs that I wanted to throw out with every wash. "Did you sleep okay?"

He gave a quick nod, a wary unease to his manner. "...Dad gone?"

"He had an early appointment. Do you want some eggs, or I could do pancakes if you like?"

"Was he mad?"

"Mad about what?" I asked, trying to pretend that I hadn't come so close last night, so close to...

"You know, knocking on your door, and you..."

"My burlesque," I laughed, doing a quick sashay for him, still seeing he was uneasy.

"He wasn't mad?"

"No he wasn't," I said evenly, making my smile more playful. "...I made him very happy when I went back."

"Did you fuck him?"

"Please, listen to the mouth on you," I blurted with bemused outrage, shaking my head more at the question that the word.

"Sorry."

"...So, is it eggs or hotcakes?"

"What did you do?"

"Your mind is very one track today," I said, saw he was waiting for an answer, didn't want to say that it was none of his business, which of course it wasn't. "...If you must know I performed what the Italians call an act of fellatio."

"You sucked it?"

"Fellatio sounds nicer and I did it very well I might add." I found myself wanting to say it, to tell him the nasty details, his father sitting against the headboard naked when I came in, the sperm already drying across my skin as I climbed atop our mattress, feeing the wetness between my legs, arching up to show how I'd been marked. "...You are such a naughty girl," he said devilishly, smearing a bit of the semen around with his thumb, lifting the thumb to my lips for me to lick it clean. "I am," I'd answered. "I was very bad, very bad."

"Did he come in your..." Danny started, jarring me out of my revel.

"Yes, and before you pull up your next question, that answer is yes too," I said, sticking my tongue out at him, remembering his father gripping into the sheets as I bobbed my head over his straining cock, scraping my teeth deliciously along the heavily veined underside, still clad in the lacy black half slip which had so entertained our son, a stifled shriek as he finally ejaculated in my mouth, that crawly coolness of his semen as I eagerly gulped it down.

"...Would you suck me?"

"That's not what we agreed to," I heard myself answering too quickly, shaking my head—I should have seen that he'd want it. If I hadn't gotten myself out of there last night, I would've...

"You kissed it last night."

"Yeah, last night we maybe did too much."

"I know you wanted to?" he went on, standing up and pulling his tee up over his head. He was slim framed, a skinny kid really, lithe in his musculature, smooth and tanned from his work in the sun that summer. I felt a sudden weakness in my legs as he stepped closer to me, hands gentle along my curves of breasts.

"I did," I nodded.

"Give me a blow job."

"Don't say it like that."

"Can I undress you?"

I was shaking my head, backed tightly against the refrigerator now, no conviction in anything, his fingers already undoing the buttons of my blouse.

"I'll do it," I whispered finally, pulling the blouse free of my skirt and draping it back over my shoulders, bringing his hand up to the clasp at the front of my brassiere, holding his hand as he snapped it free and slid the straps off my shoulders. Sucking on them now, pulling my whole tit into his mouth, hands roaming freely from my back down towards my butt, grinding off of me.

"You swallowed for him, didn't you?"

"I always do, I always do."

His lips were on mine, pressing, his tongue, I opened my mouth and kissed him back, his cock pressed against my waist, humping...

"Suck mine."

"Don't ask me, tell me," I whispered breathlessly as his body pressed even harder against me.

"Do it," he muttered with a malevolent lust, a hand on my bare shoulder, pressing me downwards. "...Suck my cock. On your knees and suck it!"

I was genuflecting on the hard tile floor then, struggling with the cutoffs, pulling them down to his ankles, his hardened cock at attention before me—I'd so wanted to take it in my mouth last night, I'd wanted to do more too, I'd wanted to...

"Open your mouth," he commanded, his hand gripped into my hair as he brought it to my lips, I opened my mouth to it, that familiar silken feel on my tongue, the heat—I took it deep, suctioned hard on him feeling it swell, wet sloshing as I worked my head from side to side, swirling my tongue, cupping his testicles, lightly squeezing them as I tried not to gag, lifting my eyes to him, my son watching me intently, mesmerized with the sight of what I was doing, feeling him close, closer, the shaft swelling as his face contorted, minutes blurring as he bucked his hips to the sway of my head, the thin bleating as he started to climax, sucking it deeper, watching his face...

"...cocksucker..."

The word caved in on me as he powerfully shot into my mouth, a retching flood of sperm, briny, thick and globby as he gripped my hair and shoved his cock in to the hilt, grinding it relentlessly into my face, as if trying to purposely gag me...

He stepped away finally, almost tripping on his bunched up shorts, quite stunned by what he'd just done, the violence and passion of it, what he'd said. I deliberately opened my mouth for him, opaque cum in a puddle on my tongue, dripping over my lower lip. I tipped my head back and swallowed it all.

"Mom..."

I put my hands out on the floor and hung my head as I tried to catch my breath, after a moment his hand gentle on my back.

"Mom..."

"I'm okay," I nearly sobbed, still tasting his seed.

"Mom, I'm sorry."

"I'm okay," I repeated as I weakly sank my head against the cold tile.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Hi," I answered, not masking the excitement in my voice, the phone pressed tightly to my ear lest someone eavesdrop on our words. It was a blisteringly hot afternoon, the taller buildings on the distant skyline lost in haze. I'd called Dan maybe fifteen minutes before and gotten his voicemail—I stayed parked in an Olive Garden lot waiting, not trusting myself to fumble for his callback while I barreled along the parkway.

"Hey, Babe," came my husband's voice, a scratchy connection.

"Can you get away?" I nearly gushed—I needed it, I was in one of those moods, one of those manic nympho rushes that I'd never had until I was in my mid-thirties. I'd been thinking about it all morning, craving it in a way that was almost unsettling—I'd caught myself fantasizing about being down on my knees in the kitchen two days ago, a searing recall of my son's hard cock in my mouth, thickening as he quickly reached his climax. I hadn't done anything since. No more of my room visits, avoiding him when I could, even turning away from Dan's advances that same night.

"I can't," Dan muttered, sounding deflated as he said it.

"C'mon, just a half hour or so, I promise I'll make it worth your while."

"Can't do I, hon. Hanson's got a meeting with that new..."

"Fine," I snapped.

"...I'm sorry."

"It's okay," I said after a long moment.

"One of our backyard romps would've been great."

"Yeah," I answered sullenly, realizing that we hadn't had one since when we walked in on Danny and that jerk-off asshole. What was it? Three weeks ago, three weeks and now my own son had cum in my mouth. Called me a...

"...You want, I think I know someone else who can do the job," my husband said softly.

"What, is that what you wanna happen?" I snapped. "You want me to let him fuck me!"

"...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..."

"I've got to go," I muttered, resting my forehead against the steering wheel.

"Karen."

"Yes," I whispered, still sagged against the wheel, already feeling bad for snapping at him.

"You and I both knew where..."

"Please, don't," I said, rocking my head from side to side.

"We both knew where this was going from that first night. Both of us knew, even if we didn't say it aloud. You wanted to give him...how'd you say it?"

"Let him know the full range of options," I murmured flatly, a rote enunciation.

"Full range is the full range, you know what I mean. Look I love you, you know that. And I gotta tell you that as weird as it goes, the thought of you, you know...the thought of you doing that for him was..."

"I sucked his cock two days ago," I cut in flatly, weeping now, barely audible, wondering if he actually heard it. "...He came in my mouth."

"...It's okay."

"It's not okay. It's fucking not. ...He called me a..."

"It's okay," he said again, firmer now, a sharpness in his tone.

"You don't understand."

"...You liked it," he said softly.

"Yes," I sighed, that single word breaking a tension that had been ruining me for the past two days...hell for the past three weeks, ever since I'd first had him stand awkwardly before me as I unsnapped his jeans. I should have said I loved it, that I loved his hands on me. That it made me fucking wet like a slut. That I'd wanted him to...

"And why shouldn't you like it?"

"Because I shouldn't, that's why."

"But you do, and obviously Danny does too. Am I right?"

"And you? How are you dealing with...I just told you I sucked our son's..."

"I knew the score going in," he cut in, the connection filling with a murderous static. "I'm not naïve enough to think you could just..."

His voice was gone, the bars on my screen flicking down to near nothing. I tried to call back but couldn't get through. Off in the haze I could see towering thunderheads forming, the sky darkening. I tried again, then again—nothing.

I folded the phone and slid it back into my purse and keyed the ignition, careful as I pulled out of the parking lot, my body shaking as I crossed into the lane for our exit, sticking just below the speed limit. I circled our neighborhood for twenty minutes until I found the landscaping crew working on one of the newer developments near Essex. Thunder sounded off in the distance and I could smell the rain in the air. Danny was up past the circular drive with two other boys wresting grass trimmings into a fifty gallon drum. He spotted me crossing the lawn in my neat business suit, the gray slacks a rarity for me, as I almost always wore skirts or dresses.

"Can I rob you of a worker, Al," I asked, addressing myself to Al Cummings the owner of the business and someone with whom I'd often contract to spruce up properties I was selling.

"Sure," he laughed, looking up and waving Danny down from the drive. I always thought Al wanted to fuck me and right now I'd have let him jam me face forward into an unpainted sheetrock wall and have at it, I was that pent up. "Looks like we're all going to be knocking off soon anyway," he went on, indicating the darkening sky with a dip of his shaved head.

"Hey, Mom," Danny said as he came up to us, tentative, unsure of what I was doing there.

"She sprung you," Al cut in, in his rough way.

"Thanks Al," I said, and whisked Danny down to the Lexus.

"What's up," he said as I pulled out onto the pavement. He knew I'd been thrown off by what happened in the kitchen. I'd put him off three times since then, once as he presented himself naked in the doorway of our bedroom.

"I'm horny, is what's up," I said shakily. "...You think you wanna fuck me?"

"I thought I wasn't supposed to say that word," he said with a tight smile.

"It's okay to say if that's what you're going to be doing, how's that?"

"I..."

"Easy question, you want to fuck or no?"

"...Yeah," he said.

"Good, then hang on," I said, making sure he had his belt on as I buried the accelerator, topping out at over eighty as I cut back towards our house, the speed a rush as I squealed through several corners, laying a five foot skid mark on our street as I slammed short on the brakes.

"Come on," I said as I jumped free of the car, the phone sounding as we went up along the side of the house and out towards the patio. "Hi," I answered crisply.

"Sorry we got cut off, babe," Dan's voice began.

"It's okay," I answered, gesturing my son over to the covered portion of our deck.

"I can get off in a bit if you're still..."

"No, I took your other advice," I said, the first drops of rain starting followed by a terrific boom of thunder.

"My...my advice..."

"I got a note for Danny's teacher and he's here with me right now," I said, dropping my tone as I stopped and looked skyward, a few heavy drops pelting my face.

"He is, is he?"

I knew Danny couldn't hear me, but I turned anyway and tucked my head over the phone. "I'm gonna let him strip me and fuck me, right out here on the grass."

"Okay..."

"And when you get home, I want you to fuck me too. Hard as you can."

"That's pretty hard."

"You know I can take it."

"...It's a date then."

"Then I should get going...and get myself stripped naked. Nothing like getting stripped by a horned-out teenage boy, is there?"

"Karen?"

"Yes."

"I love you, you know that."

"I love you too," and I folded the phone, turned to Danny, the rain coming down in sheets now, another crash of thunder that made me cringe.