Mother Amanda

"For God's sake Peter, what the hell do you think you are doing," I gasped trying to get away from him. "You Amanda, I am doing you, or I will be in a minute or two," he told me leacherously. "Get off you idiot, Peter, stop it!" He had a hold of me from behind, both of my tits were in his hands, and he was crushing my nipples too.

"If I scream your dad will hear me, stop it!" His dad could be no more than ten feet on the other side of the front door. "Scream if you want to Amanda, it won't matter, I will be gone by the time he gets back through the door," he challenged me.

By now I was, we were, in the sitting room, I was up against the back of an arm chair, my thighs level with the top. Trying to dislodge him was nigh on impossible. He started nibbling the back of my neck, along with squeezing my nipples through my flimsy summer dress. His dad had just gone to work and we, I, was alone with my son.

"Mom, its time, I know this is a surprise, to you maybe, not to me." He said off handedly. I felt him fumbling at the back of my dress and knew he was after pulling it up. It was crystal clear now what his intentions were. He was wanting sex with me. I renewed my struggles. I tried to back butt him with my ass.

I leaned away from Peter as far as I could, he just pulled me back to him. I did scream then, but it fell on deaf ears, his dad must have gone by now. Peter seemed to know what I liked, I think? "He," he said, referring to his dad, "isn't looking after you mom, we both know that. So I am going to, right?" he whispered between breaths.

"But Peter, you're my son, our son, don't darling, it's not right," I cried over my shoulder. I knew my dress was right up now. The only thing between me and what he was after was my thin panties. I could also feel something there I should not have been!

I am Amanda Benning, my son is Peter, my husband? Well, I will leave him out of this. He is a great earner, we have a ton of money, big house, cars, holidays, you name it, we have it. All except that one vital factor, love. We did have it in the early days, but its gradually gone. I suppose we have what you would call, a marriage of convenience. I have what I want, don't have what I need.

I have also never been with another man though opportunity comes my way often, very often. I am a very good looking woman of forty. I dress well, I have fitness private clubs, Golf, Yachting, socials etc. Now my son, our son has got hold of me.

As much as I love him, and I do, we should not be here, I know that, I don't know if he does though. He has been strong willed all his life, if he wants something, he goes after it. I have laughed many times when he has chased something, then I have had to eat my words when he gets it. He can also be bloody minded too, nothing will stop him when he is on a charge. And I was beginning to think he was on one now. I was in trouble and I knew it.

"Peter, please can we talk about this, please darling?" "Too late for that mom, I need you, you need me, I want you, and you will want me," was his reply. "But Peter," I said, I was being made to stand where and how he wanted me to stand now. "This isn't the right thing, the right way, please Honey."

And that was the very moment he slotted himself into me. I rose up on my tippy toes. I tried to close my legs tight, from the knees, my ankles and my thighs. I hadn't known my panties were either gone or pulled to one side. All I knew was he had his dinky doo in me.

"Arggggh, Oh Peter, please, Oh no Peter, No....." I think he abandoned any thoughts he might have had because he simply leaned into me. It bent me over the chair and he pumped in and out of me at a huge rate of knots I can tell you.

My hands, where had they been, dropped forward to press on the back of the chair inside near the arm rests. It was all I could do. Maybe I should have let myself fall right over and away to safety, I never thought to do that. He was right, his dad hadn't been near me for a long time, months even. And though I had obviously not known it, I was in desperate need to be made love to. My problem was, it was my own son seeing the problem, and me being the ignoramus I was, Peter was about to solve me my 'problem'.

My hands moved to the seating cushion, now I had no way of stopping this. My son had me pinned over the back of our chair and now he was driving his Dinky doo, that's what I used to call it when he was a boy, 'his dinky doo.'

Well I realised quite quickly it wasn't that dinky any more, in fact my mind focussed on what his dinky doo was doing to his loving mother. His mother was being taken over by her body, her body was getting what had been denied for so long, and his mother and her body was beginning to know it was good, and it was getting better.

My head dropped, my hair hung down, and now I was bracing myself at the consistent thudding thrusts. I know my feet were off the floor, and I was holding myself simply by pressing down with my hands. I was aiding and abetting my son. There was no way now that I wasn't helping him.

God knows what his dad might have said if he came in now. Later I thought both of us would have told him to go away in short sharp jerks until we had finished. It started that almost forgotten rumble in the pit of my stomach, I recognised it straight away, I had a climax building.

It had been such a long time since I had felt this, I had no way of reacting, maybe trying not to. Peter just kept banging away at me. In a moment of lucidity, I actually thought that it was about time he came.

Instead it was I, the rumble became an explosion, followed by others that shocked and stunned me into immobility. I came, I felt myself closing my vaginal walls around Peter's manhood, nipping at him. I was pulsing my vaginal walls the way I always do when I orgasm. And I felt that long forgotten rush of juice being forced out to run down my thighs, and Peter's too I would guess.

I sighed, I cried, tears too, real ones, my body along with me gave up the good fight. My own son had done me, and I had responded to him, even though I knew I shouldn't have, but what now? I was shuddering inside, quivering like a sliver of steel vibrating along its length. A tuning fork reaction.

I pictured myself hanging over the armchair like a sack of potatoes. My arms gave way, and now I was just hanging there. I felt Peter pull me backwards, then hands on my waist he pulled me upright. I was on my feet but he was holding me up. My son had done what his dad hadn't done, and for a long time.

I was flopped back on to him, he cupped my tits again and squeezed my nipples again. I was lost. "Peter, please, please don't," I muttered. He let me go slowly and I sank back over the armchair, this whole episode can't have taken more than 3 or 4 minutes. How long does it take for a man as frantic and as determined as my son, and me too once I had got going, had been to do the dirty deed?

I realised after a moment or two that I was on my own. I peered up and behind me, nope, I was definitely flying solo here. That got my dander up, I immediately said to myself. "How dare he, he has just flupped his own mother and now he has disappeared!"

In a rage I jumped upright, my back ached. My panties were gathered around one ankle, he had torn them. I kicked them off and I raced towards the door, or rather staggered. I shot upstairs, or rather stumbled. I dived at his bedroom door, or nearly fell against it. When it opened, there was Peter lying naked, facing me. And on his face. Yep, you guessed it. That knowing look, that, I told you look, that, I don't care what you say look, the I don't give a monkey's look mom, his you have been got, look.

I knew them all, I gaped at him, he had no remorse, no, I'm sorry mom look. Just his happy, I won look. I strode, if that was the right word to his bed. I intended to wallop him across his face. Have the mother and father of all rows. As I went for him he caught both of my wrists and there I was arms outstretched and stuck.

"Peter let go of me right now you little....." He relaxed, my arms dropped a little, but he drew me to him too. Then my body weight took over, I sank face down to him. He turned a bit and I was right above him. I tried to free myself but it was a waste of time, my arms went down. Then they went behind me and I flopped face first on to his chest. I felt my arms go up my back, and without knowing it, I was captured, again!

He moved around, and I realised that he had now put both of his feet over my legs, then he pulled me upwards and my face ended up in his neck. Which meant of course that his was in mine. And Peter did the one thing that guaranteed success in my youth, he started to kiss it, all over, round and round, up and down, nibbles, little bites, sucks.

I admit I did forget myself and revelled in my captive treatment. I snuffled his neck too. It was about then that reality dawned on me. I had been taken by my son downstairs, he had made me cum too, that was undeniable. Now I was lying on top of him, he was as naked as a jaybird. My son was kissing my neck, and I liked it, I liked it a lot. The growing lump between us was fuel for the fire.

I have never surrendered to a man in my life, well, I had, but I had never admitted it, I did now. "Peter," I moaned in his ear. "You don't have to make me do this, you can let me go. I won't fight you anymore, I promise."

We rolled over, now I was on my back and underneath him. I am not sure if he believed me but my dress came up, and I felt him slide right back in to me. I sighed with pleasure. Now his arms were around me, his feet had gone? It allowed me to lift my legs and cross my ankles over him. Now we were making love. Or rather I was being royally screwed by my own beautiful son.

Being like this with my own son blew my mind anyway. I don't know if many mothers do this, willingly or otherwise. But the fact was, it was super intensive. Never in my life could I have imagined this. I climaxed again. I would think after, when I had got my breath that the main reason was, although my son was now a solid part of my inner life was, his cock, it fit me, it worked me, it got me to where I had been dying to be. Up there with the orgasmic fairies.

Peter was looking down at me with that look, I got you look, you're mine now look, I am your guy now look, this is gonna keep going look, no matter what dad might say look. I nodded my head, I understood. That was when we started kissing, loving, I became me, I became the woman I am, I was sexy, I gave of myself, I hooked him, he hooked me.

I didn't know if he had come yet, though he must have by now, a young lad like him must be on his 2^nd or 3^rd breath, he had to be. And did I care, did I f*** I had a good hard cock in me, it was pounding me. His hips slamming into mine. Mercy? It was the last thing I wanted. I now wanted to be taken to the sexual cleaners, and he was, he not only was, he did.

Then my boy came, (again?) he slowed, he got stronger, his last slam nearly broke me in half. I felt him flood me, his cum filled me. It was glorious to the extreme. I knew then I would never deny my so his right to me and my body, never.

We actually relaxed, nestled, loved, close proximity took over, arms and legs entwined, lip locking, though kissing still felt unusual, him being who he was, and me being his mother still. I looked at me, talk about life going full circle, it had not been many years since he had changed my life completely when he popped out on the sunny November morning. Now he had revisited the very place from whence he came, and I wondered how many times he would repeat it now.

Sleep found me, I think it found Peter too, I woke and couldn't think where I was, that was until I was bitten gently on my shoulder. Then my body protested, I ached, I was sore, I knew what had happened, the memory of this morning returned. I had never felt so good in my life, never.

I reached for him, I took a hold of him. "Peter, I want him again," I told him. And lo and behold he rose up in my hand. Peter was ready again. My eye caught the clock, it was 1p.m., we had done all this, or rather Peter had, and now he was ready and good to go in moments, obviously he had had a short kip too.

"Ready when you are mom," he grinned. I did what any woman would do, I jumped up and got on my hands and knees, I wanted that cock, his cock, my cock, deep in me from the back. This woman was going to get all the satisfaction she needed this day.

I held my breath and held my station, I was ready for that first thump, but even when it came it surprised me. Had I really forgotten what making love was all about? I know there are always two participants, but in reality, the woman receives, the man gives, he gets, she gets.

His cock split me in two, my head hit the pillow, my fists bunched into the covers, my feet lifted, my knees slid slightly. Then I really did brace myself for the next one and off Peter went. He banged and banged me, I almost had to call for him to slow or stop for a moment, almost. My nipples got it then, he leaned over as if he was claiming me, and I suppose he was.

It wasn't until I realised I was flat on my face and still being humped that I knew I must have passed out or collapsed? Peter was completely on top of me and still fucking me forever. My orgasms started, slow, fast, hard, soft, big and small I got everything. I lay prone and just waited for my son to bomb his mother, and as if in unison he shot his load deep into me.

I cannot ever remember being as satisfied as I was right then. I maybe had been in the past, but that memory had being blown away forever by my son. He was then laid next to me on his back. I wasted no time at all in diving for him and sucking that cock of his, my cock almost of his body. He never came, he had nothing left, it was just divine.

We showered, he screwed me again, face to the wall, feet on the edge. He got all of me. Losing count of my climaxes was a thing of the past. Back in bed we rested, or slept. "Peter," I said, I had something to tell him, something that I wanted. He was busy munching my pussy, I had never had time to get down from the ceiling yet. "Hmmmm," he grunted.

"Will you do my ass darling, please?" "Your ass, do you mean....? "Yes Peter, that's exactly what I mean. I am a virgin there, I have never wanted it there, not until now. I want you Peter, to have all of me, everything darling." "Wow mom, yes sure, but you'll have to kind of guide me though?" he told me.

"Is now a good time honey?" I asked. "Well that depends how good you are mom," he sniggerd and I looked at my new cock. Hmmm, I thought, he needs some help. I looked at the clock, there was not a lot of time. "Later Peter," I whispered, "maybe tomorrow?"

"That's a date mom," he laughed. I had to prepare dinner, and get my head and body straight. That night there wasn't a moment that went by that Peter didn't claim me one way or another. By the time I went to bed I knew I belonged to another man, my son.

During the night something woke me, I looked at the doorway and there was Peter, he crooked his finger at me and I sneaked out of bed. His dad was sleeping peacefully, snoring lightly. We were stood on the landing kissing. Peter was feeling me, I was soon dripping. I had his cock in my hand and I forced him to cum all down my front, so sexy.

The next morning as soon as his dad had gone I was got, I knew I would be, and I knew that even if I protested, which I was not going to do, I would be wasting my breath, my man wanted me, my man was having me.

A nana second later we were in my bed, not his, I was on my knees, he was in me, I waited for him to strike remembering our conversation about him doing my ass. He did do me for a while normally, and I was getting right into it, normally. But then he was out, and he rammed it into my ass. He slid in and home the pain was excruciating I fell forward and cried out. Fat lot of good that did. Peter fucked me without a thought, I think.

But after what seemed like an hour the pain subsided, it morphed into agreement, then acceptance, and amazingly, pleasure. I began to moan his name, tell him how much I loved him, how much I needed him, that I would never say no to him, not ever.

The climax was like no other I had ever had, it was totally different, totally new, and totally wonderful. Peter filled my ass, my bowels with hot steaming cum, this made me cum again. I know my ass muscles clamped together all by themselves, I tried to push him out, naturally, my ass said no!

It was Peter who extracted himself, I felt the emptiness though.

It was quite sometime before we moved individually, I turned his way, he was on his back. Sleep overcame the peaceful tranquility of the moment. When I opened my eyes I stared at him. I knew I loved him, but how was it possible for a mother to love her son the way I was feeling. And what about his dad, were we going to keep like this, leave? No, I wasn't leaving.

I slowly took his cock, my cock, my brand new cock and gently rubbed it. I marvelled at its texture, its obvious power. It began to grow, it mesmerised me. I was in awe. Then the door crashed wide open and there was my husband, he was staring wild eyed at us.

"What the hell...." I jumped in total surprise and fell off the edge of the bed. We had been made big style, there could be no denying what we were up to, what we had been doing. I expected him to charge at us, instead he just stood there. Peter, ever the pragmatist said. "Oh hello dad, fancy you coming home unannounced."

I gaped at him, he nonchalantly got out of bed, on his side. And he stood there naked. I expected a nuclear explosion. His dad, waited for an eternity, then stormed away. I heard the door slam, the squeal of wheels and he was gone. "Mmmm," Peter said, "we never expected that did we Amanda?" He called me Amanda. "It looks to me like he was expecting to find you having it off, but never thought it could be me. We'll have to see what he says when he comes home and has calmed down."

I have never been more amazed in my life. We talked, Peter wouldn't leave me alone and I couldn't stop him from doing me in the kitchen, I have to admit, I didn't try very hard though. Peter sent his dad a text, he said enough time had gone by. "I think it's time you came home for a chat, dad," he wrote. An hour later he did.

Peter told him that what had happened was his fault, he had seduced me (True) but now it had happened he was going to have to get used to it or leave! I was stunned, I had not expected this. My son was a pragmatist I knew that, but he had taken control of the situation and my husband, his dad, seemed to be taking it in.

"The best thing at the moment dad would be if you went and stayed in a hotel for a few nights," he told him. "Let me and mom get the house reorganized, you know what I mean?" Even I knew he meant, the bedrooms, move his dad out, move himself in.

His dad amazed me again, he got up and without another word he packed a bag and left. And Peter did what he said we would do, reorganise the bedrooms, his dad went in Peter's, Peter moved into ours, mine, his? Then Peter stunned me with another observation.

"I think dad has turned rogue mom, Amanda." He said. "What do you mean Peter?" I asked. I had no idea. "I think he is gay, he maybe wasn't, but I think he is now." I could have fallen over, but after a lot of thought I could see Peter's logic, maybe he was. Maybe that was why he had never even looked like wanting sex with me. 'All this time,' I fumed to myself.

We lived as man and wife from the off, Peter had me everywhere, and I went everywhere, he never had to ask. I had also visited the Pharmacy and gone on the pill, we did not want an accident.

He came back after four days, and after some cajoling from us both, he half admitted that he was conflicted. That he did indeed feel attracted to certain males. We encouraged him to follow his feelings, as long as he left Peter and I out of it. After a year of him finding himself, he has found someone.