Mom's Fertilization Seduction

"Tess, I'm sorry. I know I haven't paid much attention lately, but, when I get back from my weekend business trip, next week we can, you know ... try again."

The last thing I needed right now was for Stan to get in the way of my misery with another layer of lame misery to paint on the top as a decoration. His trying was liquor up enough to attempt to get an erection. That hadn't worked for over a decade before he stopped even trying seven years ago.

"That sounds good, Stan. Now go back to bed. You have an early morning."

"Coming to bed soon?"

"Just a few more minutes," I lied with a trembling voice. I knew I would be lucky if I got to sleep at all. "Get some sleep." I knew he wouldn't wait up.

More pacing. It didn't help with breaking my worry cycle, but it did dissipate some of my energy.

That was until I had another devastating revelation: my nemesis had jerked off my son. His ex-sixth grade teacher had jerked him off!

"Damned Denise!" I growled. "Of all people!"

That epiphany set loose a wave of confusing and conflicting emotions. On one hand, I thought it was wildly inappropriate that a woman my own age would take advantage of an 18-year-old like that. On the other hand, because of our competitive past, I felt a red hot twinge of jealousy that she—and not me—had done something that brought so much pleasure to Tom! Again she beat me.

Oh my God! It had to be her. Denise had to be the one who was sending the emails. I picked up my phone off the kitchen table and started to call her, to call her at 1:43 a.m. Then I stopped.

I didn't know what I would have said, but it would have been loud and incoherent. I would wait until morning when those traits were better suited.

And, maybe in the meantime I could come up with some options. Maybe I could put this all in perspective and figure a way out. Or at least plan some damage control.

At least it couldn't get worse.

That's when I realized it got worse.

"03." Marie had said "03" meant March. This was the end of August, about five months from March.

It all came together in a thunderclap that nearly flattened me: the AFC cup, the sperm, March, Denise, Tom, five months—

DENISE WAS PREGNANT WITH MY SON'S BABY!

*****************************

I knocked softly and was met with a non-sleepy "Come in, Mom."

I slipped into my son's room and shut the door, pushing it tight against the outside as if that would keep all the problems on the other side.

Tom was sitting up in bed, wearing just his pajama bottoms.

"Tom," I said with a quaver I couldn't control, "we have trouble." Tears welled up in my eyes and my throat closed so I couldn't say another word until I took some breaths.

Tom got up and supported me just as my knees started to give way. He guided me to the edge of the bed. I sat, and he sat beside me to my right. He rubbed my back and said:

"Mom, you have to calm down. Like you always say, 'Everything will work itself out.' And it always does, right?"

"You don't understand, Tom. This is different. This is something terrible."

"What can be that bad, Mom? I got you and you got me. Isn't that what we always say?" He bent his head and kissed my cheek.

I rested my head on his shoulder for a while he continued to soothingly rub my back and periodically kiss my head. I started to get my nerves under control, but I didn't know where to start.

So I started with, "Is Miss Locke pregnant with your baby?"

"Mom, it's possible."

"Whaaa? You don't know for sure?"

"How would I know for sure? It's not like a paternity test has been done or anything. So, I guess it's possible. I don't know."

"We'll have to find out, Tom. Don't you see that's important? Don't you want to know if she's carrying your child ... and my grandchild?"

"I guess," he said. He didn't sound as worked up about it as I did. Naive kid!

"Did you know there's a video of you and Denise ... Miss Locke? A video of you ... let's just say 'filling' a sperm donor cup?"

"Yeah, I know about it."

"Tom, honestly!" I looked into his face and shook my head. "Why would you allow this to happen? Why would you let her do that to you?"

"Okay. Here's the story. You want the truth?"

"Of course," I said.

"This is going to take a minute or two, so promise you'll relax a little and let me tell the whole story. Promise?"

"I promise," I said.

Tom pulled my head back to his shoulder and hugged me close. His hand kept rubbing my back over my untucked pajama top.

"Miss Locke was visiting Coach at school one day back in March. Coach calls me over and says she needs help moving some stuff from the attic to the garage, and would I go help her. So I say sure because it gets me out of some classes, and it's Miss Locke who I always liked even though I knew you two didn't get along."

When telling Tom stories, I had always scratched his back with a light, almost hypnotic touch. He always said it made him calm and dreamy. He returned the favor now. His hand went from rubbing my back over my pajama to gliding his short fingernails over my bare skin. He must have slipped his hand under the back of my top.

It felt good as he talked.

"So we get there and I'm doing all the work and Miss Locke is talking about how much I look like the coach and it must be the cousin thing and everything. Then she starts talking about how she and coach want kids but can't have any. I kept quiet, but I wanted to say I understood because you and Dad have the same type of problem."

"I'm glad you didn't say anything," I said.

"I figured you'd want to keep that our secret. So she says that they're going to try one last time with the clinic. I told her Aunt Marie works there and she said she knew that."

Tom continued to scratch my back lightly as he spoke. I closed my eyes and listened. I was feeling better just being with someone who loved me and who I loved.

"So Miss Locke starts talking about too bad I didn't have the scholarship and community college would suck but she definitely thought she could get Coach to get me the scholarship. She said she would do that, but I had to do her a favor too."

"That bitch!" I thought. She used Tom.

"She said that she had to deliver the Coach's sperm to the clinic that day, but she was sure it wouldn't work because it hadn't worked three times before. She said the Coach had a real low sperm count and just not enough of it to work."

"And she asked you?"

"I'm getting to that, Mom. She started crying and saying this was her last chance because Coach was sick of her complaining about it and she wanted a baby real bad. She said she had an idea if I would go along with it. She said because I looked so much like Coach that if I substituted my sperm instead, he would never know the difference."

"And you agreed to it, just like that? I can't believe you made such a big decision ... just like that," I said.

"Mom, we talked about it a real long time. And remember, this was my teacher asking me this, and not someone I just met."

Denise had used her position of authority to influence Tom, her former student. Totally inappropriate use of her power.

"So we talked it all over for a long time, about don't worry about the kid because she's gonna take good care of it and love it because she always wanted a child. She really made me believe it would have a good home. Like I said, I always liked Miss Locke even if you didn't. And, I was going to get the scholarship. Remember that."

"Still it wasn't fair of her." I had to add that. I would have been more vocal, but Tom's hand was soothing me.

"So I agreed and she got the cup. She gets this scared look on her face and says nobody can ever know about this, especially the Coach. He has to think it was all him. I let her know I'd definitely not tell the Coach about it, knowing all about how mad he gets."

"She hands me the cup and tells me to go into the bathroom and 'do my thing.' I went in and for the first time in my life, couldn't do my thing. It must have been I got nervous or something."

Probably got some of his father's "performance anxiety" I thought. I actually smiled, glad Tom couldn't see it.

"So after a while, Miss Locke asks if everything is okay. I finally admit it wasn't going good, and after a lot of back and forth talking, I suggested that she 'help.' She said definitely no. But when it looked like her plan was falling apart, she agreed to jerk me off."

"And that worked?" I knew the answer, but somehow wanted to hear him admit it.

"Big time!" he said. "You may not recognize it, but Miss Locke is a MILF. I've always had a crush on her and even you have to admit how pretty she is."

"Prettier than me?" I blurted out. Dammit! Why don't I shut up? Always competing with damned Denise. I couldn't help it.

"Not even close, Mom." He tilted my head up and gave me a tender kiss on the lips. I needed that.

"Go on," I said.

"So Miss Locke gets behind me and gets me hard immediately and I cum in the cup for her. She sealed it up and drove me back to the school. She told me all the way that I should never say what happened because there would be trouble. Lots of trouble. And she would try her best to get the scholarship for me. That's it."

"Tom, I think Miss Locke, for some reason, is stirring up trouble now that she's pregnant. Why for the life of me, I'll never know."

"Why? Did she say something today?" Tom asked.

"She was about to say something, to tell me something when her husband came in and put a stop to it."

"Did HE say anything about me?" Tom, for the first time, looked concerned.

"No, nothing. But, what about the video?"

"Oh yeah. So when I'm in the bathroom, I wanted to get evidence of what I was doing. I don't know why, but I thought it was a good idea. I set up my phone on the sink and it recorded everything. Miss Locke didn't even see it. I sent her the video and she went ballistic. She called me and begged me to delete it. I thought I'd better keep it."

"So she has the video?"

"I sent it to her," he said.

This confirmed my suspicion. It was Denise who was sending me those emails. I debated whether to tell Tom about the emails, but we were this far into things so:

"Someone sent me an email with your video attached. I didn't know it was you and Miss Locke ... not at first at least. I got caught up in reacting to it and send some pretty shameful things—"

"I don't think they're shameful, Mom."

"What?"

"I think they were honest and beautiful. I loved every word you wrote."

"You? You're the one I've been talking with in the emails? Do you know how embarrassing this is? The things I said?"

"You don't have to be embarrassed with me, Mom. I understand. Yanno, with Dad. He doesn't give you what you want, what you need. That's his mistake, his loss."

"Why would you want to play such a humiliating game with your own mother? Why would you put me in a position to shame me like that? Just because you know I'm vulnerable? Are you laughing at me because I'm weak?" The lump came back to my throat as I spoke.

Tom put his arm around me again.

"No, Mom. I would never do anything to hurt you. I just wanted to show you that I can do it."

"Do what?"

"That you don't have to look at me like I'm a little boy, but a man now. That's part of my plan."

He had mentioned his "plan" earlier, but it didn't dawn on me it was something real. "What plan," I asked.

"Mom, I want to get you pregnant," he stated calmly.

I didn't know if I had heard him correctly. Even though I knew what every single one of the words he had said meant, my mind couldn't comprehend what they meant in that order or that context.

My shocked silence made him continue. "I know you'll never have another baby with Dad. Just not possible no matter what you hope for. That's a dead end."

"Tom, you—"

"Let me finish, Mom." He snaked his hand under my top and scratched, a signal that he was going to talk and I was to listen. I listened.

"The thing that happened with Miss Locke? That got me thinking. Why couldn't we do the same thing? Why couldn't you finally have a baby? I knew you would never want some other donor or have an affair or something like that. I know you. And then Dad would know if the baby didn't look like him at all, right? So I thought this is the perfect answer: I get you pregnant."

"Perfect except you're my son, and that makes it wrong on all sorts of levels. You must have known I would never allow that. You must have know I would never even think of something like that? That it would be possible in any way?"

"That's why I sent the video like I did. I wanted you to see me, not as your son, but as a man who you could recognize as somebody who could get you pregnant. I wanted you to admit it. I wanted you to admit it not only to yourself, but want the other person to know it too."

"That was unfair of you. That was lying to me—not letting me know who I was watching. You don't know how embarrassed I am. You tricked me into admitting things about your body. Now I know it was my son's body. Shameful."

"Mom, don't be ashamed. I'm not ashamed to admit I think you're hot, that you have a great body. I told you that today."

"That's just that Oedipus thing, Tom. That's a normal phase for boys and their Moms."

"But, it's more than just a phase now, Mom. I think of you not only as my mother, but like a real woman. Something changed with me and Miss Locke and made me look at things different. When I think of making you pregnant, I think of you in a different way. I love you in a different way while still loving you as my Mom."

I had been listening so intently, I hadn't noticed his right hand had drifted from scratching my back to reaching around my loose-fitting top. I don't know how long it had been going on, but my son's hand was gently cupping and rubbing my right breast. My naked right breast. My nipple was hard against his palm.

"TOM!" I gasped as I brought my arm down and moved his hand away. "What do you think you're doing? I'm your mother. You can't touch me like that. It's not right!"

"Didn't it feel good?"

It had been so easy and slow that it felt natural. I hadn't even noticed his hand. It hadn't felt intrusive or invasive ... just natural.

"I told you I'm vulnerable, that I'm distracted. You should respect that. If you love me, you should think of what's best for me," I said.

"I AM thinking of what's best for you. How else are you going to get pregnant? Don't you still want to have a baby?"

I didn't have an answer for that except, "I can't have a baby with my own son. Don't you see how crazy that is?"

"It's more crazy to go through the rest of your life not being able to love another kid. I know how much we loved each other for my whole life. This will be another way we'll show each other love and how we can share one more thing: me getting you pregnant. You saw how much I cum. It'll be easy."

"Anything but easy, Tom. I'm your mother. Don't you get that? There are boundaries. Nature sets up boundaries. You're my son. Let's end that discussion right there. This is all crazy."

"Was it crazy what you wrote about me, about what looking at me made you feel. Were those feelings crazy too? What seeing me cum made your body want to do? That you could really get pregnant. Just because we're mother and son shouldn't get in the way of that."

"That we're mother and son definitely is what should get in the way."

Tom stood up, faced me, and without hesitation, dropped his pajama bottoms to the floor. Before me was the image on the video come alive. I was looking at the semi-hard penis attached to my son.

"TOM! Have you no shame at all? Cover yourself up!" But, my eyes never left his crotch. That damned video. Before seeing that I would have had no trouble getting angry and storming out of the room. It would have been simply embarrassing because he was my son and I was his mother. Clear lines of demarcation. But, after seeing the anonymous penis on the video and reacting to it as a woman, not as a mom—that had successfully blurred the lines. The mom thing receded and the woman thing bubbled up to the surface. A woman's eyes were now looking at a real, live penis just a foot away.

"You said I had a big, beautiful cock, Mom."

"That was under false pretexts," I said, trying to sound convincing. But I never looked away from the cock, which was rising.

"You said you would want to feel your hand around it."

I didn't say anything. I couldn't deny what I had said, and looking at it in the flesh made me wonder, really wonder what it did feel like.

"Touch it, Mom. You know you wanted to. Just like Miss Locke did."

Damned Denise. She had touched my son. She had made him cum. It wasn't fair! With a great effort, I broke the hypnotic magnetism my son's cock was exerting and reached down and pulled up my son's pajamas. I stood and said, "Enough of this talk. I won't hear any more of it. Discussion closed."

Tom hugged me to him and said, "Mom, this is your only chance to have another baby. It should be with someone who loves you as much as I do. Let's do this."

"I said no, and I mean it."

"Just think it over and don't make a decision until tomorrow. Promise me that."

"Tom ... I ..."

"Promise you'll think about it. That's all I'm asking. This is too important." His hand drifted down and squeezed my butt.

I reluctantly nodded. I was too emotionally drained and physically exhausted to stand there and argue any more.

"Good!" he said and walked me to the door.

On the other side of the door, I realized that when Tom's hand had squeezed my butt, he had slid it under my elastic waistband.

My son's hand had been on my naked ass.

**********************

A miserable night's sleep, if you can call turning and looking at the clock every five minutes sleep. And looking at Stan soundly sleeping there didn't help. As if he didn't care. As if he didn't know he could be a grandfather.

Which he didn't know. Which I didn't know ... for sure.

I had been full of dread before going to Tom's room. I thought I was going to be exposed as a pervert for writing what I did; I thought for sure Denise was pregnant with my son's baby.

That certainty of dread had been traded for a new problem: my son wanted to impregnate me.

It was completely crazy, and it made a lot of sense. Which was crazy!

AND—I had seen my son's penis. A half-erect penis and not the super-powered cock of the video, but still damned impressive in person. THAT image kept creeping into my mind all night as I tried to snooze a bit.

AND—Tom had fondled my tit and caressed my naked ass—his own mother for God's sake.

The alarm went off just after I passed out. "Noooo!" I groaned. Stan got right up; he had to pack for his three-day trip.

He had the nerve to hum while getting ready. Hum! The nerve!

I was making breakfast and he came up behind me and gave me a feeble kiss on the cheek. I sighed. He was a good man and a good, kind father. Not much of a lover (hell—not ANY kind of lover!).

"I know you had a bad night, Tess. I'll make it up to you when I get back."

How in the name of God was he going to make it up to me? get me pregnant? satisfy me sexually? Ha! No—double that: ha! ha! Because I felt the whole world was laughing at me, making a big damned joke of my life.

Just a few days earlier, at least I had it all contained, all tamped down inside of me and contained, my deadened sexual desires. Now, a few days later:

My deadened sexual desires had risen from the grave. On top of that, I now had a vague fear I could be a grandmother (AND, link that to damned Denise being the mom). On top of that, I had seen another woman jerk my son off and make him cum. On top of that, my son had felt me up ... twice. On top of that, that same son wanted to get me pregnant!