Mothering Sunday

He shuffled forwards on the couch and ran his hands over her firm behind.

She turned and stood before him, legs apart, hands on hips, chest thrust out, like Wonder Woman in her sports bra.

"You are so gorgeous, so sexy, so hot," he muttered, slightly abashed at how inarticulate he was in comparison. He couldn't imagine dreaming up the dirty scenario she'd just done.

She straddled his legs and leant down and kissed him, before trailing her kisses down his chest, licking, and sucking at his erect nipples.

She rubbed herself along his length, her juices liberally coating him.

Raising up above him she arched her back again and went to pull off her sports bra, but he stopped her.

"Leave it on," he said, "You're practically bursting out of it. You look so sexy."

She looked down at her heaving cleavage and laughed, while he cupped her boobs on his hands, and kissed eagerly at the big bumps of her nipples.

She was in a hurry now. There was no need for further foreplay. She stretched up to get above his towering length, and reached down, positioning him at her entrance, as he pushed tentatively inside.

This time though she felt open and relaxed, with none of the tightness he experienced last night.

She groaned deeply. "All the way," she begged, "Stretch me."

She lowered herself as he slowly pushed his length into her, and they each gave long groans in unison.

Soon he was fully embedded, and they kissed long and hard, and started to buck up and down on top of him.

Open mouthed, lips to lips, forehead to forehead, she thrust her hips up and down. "Oh fuck," she groaned, swiftly building up her momentum.

Very quickly she was fucking him, hands on his chest, hips jerking rapidly, and her cries increased into screams and wordless noises.

It was not the gentle love making of the night before. She was wanton, aggressive, and dominant. She wanted to fuck.

He tried to keep up, his hips following hers as he thrust upwards trying to get his whole length inside.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck..." she was screaming in time with their thrusts. And then she was laughing in glee, bouncing wildly on top of him, amazed that his length meant she could move so wantonly without him slipping out.

She reached down with one hand, the other braced on his chest, and rubbed her clit furiously.

"Oh God, God," she screamed, rubbing herself hard. His hand joined hers.

Within moments she stopped suddenly, crying "Too much, too much," her body rigid, she pushed herself back off him. His cock, red hot and throbbing, thudded down onto his stomach, as she pulled at her clit with a fury.

He could hear her wetness sloshing, and she screamed. To his shock and amazement, a stream of clear juices squirted out of her onto his stomach and cock.

She flopped down on top of him, face buried on his shoulder, her chest heaving, deep breaths, and long sighs reverberating into his chest.

He stroked her hair and pulled her to him tight.

They lay there as she slowly came back to her senses. She looked up, through wild hair and a red flushed face and chest and laughed out loud.

"Oh my God, I've never done that before!"

"That was amazing," he said, overwhelmed.

"I think I lost control back then. Sorry if I got you a bit wet."

"I loved it," he said, "Fucking hell Mum, I've read about squirting but have never seen anything like it."

She peeled herself off him and looked at the mess.

"But I've not finished with you yet, young man."

She flopped down, open legged, and pulled him on top of her.

"Your turn now - fuck me."

He knelt between her legs and pushed himself back inside with one long insertion.

"Give me a damn good seeing too," she said.

So, he did, inspired by her wild display.

They fucked with abandon. He revelled in the opportunity to thrust long and hard into her, forgetting his caution and fear of hurting her.

He seemed endless as he gave her everything he had, her urging him on - "Deeper, deeper" she cried, "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

She quickly climbed back to another shattering orgasm, pushing him back off her as her juices spurted again. Everything was getting drenched.

He flipped her over, so she was bent over the soaked coach, and drilled her from behind, achieving even longer strokes in this position, reaching down to grip her hanging tits.

The next time her shrieks began to peak again, he followed her lead and rubbed his fingers hard over her clit.

She screamed as she came again, abandoning herself in the waves of sexual ecstasy.

"Too much... too much..." she gasped helplessly.

He had no idea how he'd lasted as long as he had, and maybe he was too mesmerised by her extraordinary performance to notice his impending crisis, but finally, it was too much and he gave one last massive push into her and came hugely, his multiple ejaculations seeming to rush straight from his toes, as he emptied himself into her.

For a long time, they were stuck, a heaving, sweaty, sticky mess. Face buried in the back of her neck.

But slowly they recovered. He pulled out of her and rolled her onto her back. He brushed her damp hair from her face and kissed her tenderly.

"Fuck that was incredible Mum. What got into you?"

She smirked, amazed, and rather abashed now at her behaviour.

"I think you got into me, my son. You really got into me."

He shook his head in disbelief.

"God, I'm sorry to mention him, but I'm so jealous of Dad when you're so extraordinary in bed."

She eyed him and said "Believe me son, I have never been like that with your father. You bring something out of me I didn't know I had.

He shook his head again.

"I'm just feeling like the luckiest guy in the world just to be here with you."

"I think we make a good team, don't you?" she grinned.

"You did switch your video call off, didn't you?" he asked, eyebrows raised, with a dirty snigger.

"Oh God!" she laughed uproariously.

"Yes, I think so!"

"It would certainly have got Rhea going, hey?"

She gave a dirty laugh.

"Mum, that was just a story, right? There's nothing going on is there?"

"Hey. I'm sworn to secrecy..."

He looked at her open mouthed.

"Really?"

"Oh, come on, I don't know. I'm just kidding you, honestly."

He looked at her, unsure.

"What am I going to do with you?" she asked later, as they sat eating lunch together. They'd showered, separately - she'd insisted on it - and together cleaned the wrecked couch hoping the sex smells would go away.

Gavin was due home later that evening. They were going to have to face the music together.

"You mean when he comes back?" he asked.

"Yes"

They looked at each other for a moment.

"Well at least we don't have to sneak around, do we?" she said cautiously.

"You mean because he knows about us?" he asked.

"It was his idea," she said but added, "Sort of..."

"He's only got himself to blame then, hasn't he?" he said cautiously. He was unsure again about their status.

He cleared his throat after more nervous silence, wondering how to proceed.

"Mum, you and me... are we going to continue?"

"Making love?"

He nodded; grateful she said the words. Even now, after all they'd done together, he found it hard to say the words out loud.

"I was worried it might be a one-off."

"You want us to carry on? I don't want to assume," she asked.

"More than anything," he said eagerly, but then as doubt crept in, "If you do too, that is."

"Oh Paul," she said, leaning over the table to kiss him.

"I want it too, more than anything. I don't think I can keep away from you now."

"But what about him?" he asked.

She grunted dismissively.

"Well, I suppose I can't be spraying all over the couch while he's sitting there watching TV, can I?" she grimaced, with a sneer.

"Err, no," he rolled his eyes at the image.

"More's the pity."

***

Gavin sloped in later that day, his eyes barely meeting Rachel's. Paul quickly made himself scarce upstairs.

She made him a cup of tea, as he bumbled about pulling things out of his bag, pretending to be busy. She thought she'd let him stew for a while.

"Nice trip?" she asked sarcastically, sliding the cup across to him.

"It was OK," he mumbled, eyes down.

She did some washing up while he sat at the table staring at his cup. The silence hung heavy in the room.

"Watch anything nice?" she asked suddenly, almost making him jump.

"Sorry?" he asked hesitantly.

"On the TV, or on your computer?"

"Oh, that..."

"Yes, that Gavin. That."

She sat down opposite him at the table, chin in her hands.

"Look, I'm sorry," he began to say.

"I should fucking think so," she interrupted loudly, slamming her hands down on the table.

He jumped.

"I am so disappointed in you," she said.

"Sorry," he repeated.

"Why?"

"Why?"

"Why-did-you-hide-a-camera-to-film-us-having-sex-together?" she asked, spelling it out like he was a stupid little boy.

"I wanted to watch," he answered simply, "I knew you'd never allow it."

"Fucking right."

She stared at him, furious.

"Get your kicks, did you?"

He avoided her gaze, said nothing.

"Get off did you, watching us, fucking together?" she spat out.

He nodded slightly, eyes down.

"Your own tailor-made porno. Your little dicky in your hand," she sneered.

He grimaced. She knew she was being unfair now. But she wanted to rub his nose in it.

"Don't you ever try anything like that again."

He looked up at her. He felt humiliated but also relieved. It didn't seem like she was going to kick him out.

"I suppose you were going to try and eke it out of me, were you?"

"What?"

"The salacious details, to get me to tell my story, thrust by thrust, while you sat there with a hard-on, hearing a blow-by-blow encounter of how your hot wife was thoroughly fucked by a bigger, better man."

She laughed mockingly.

"By a bigger, better man, who just happened to be our son."

He shook his head, trying to disappear into the table.

"You'd ask your little questions; pretend you didn't know."

She pitched her voice in a mocking tone.

"How was it? Was he good in bed? Ooh, how big is he? How many times did he make you come? Did you make a man of him?"

He stared at his tea, defeated.

"Well, let me tell you, your son has absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. He's more of a man than you'll ever be."

He winced.

"Look I'm sorry to be so brutal, but I just want to get it over to you how incredibly disappointed in you I am."

"Look we talked about it. I thought you were doing this for him, to help him in some way, and for me too I suppose. For both of us."

"So kind, so caring, so generous. Offering your wife, so selflessly. So concerned about his welfare."

"When really it was just some sordid fantasy of yours."

"No, it wasn't just a fantasy. It was all those things you mentioned," he protested, still avoiding her eye. "I guess, yes, it was some sort of fantasy too. I wanted to see you, and him, together."

"Shoving his big dick into me?" she said cruelly.

He looked up at her, surprised at her vehemence.

"Yes, your son has a really big dick. Absolutely huge, actually. And he really knows what he's doing with it too."

He flinched at her outburst.

"Yes, and it turns out he really didn't need any coaching at all."

"A little shy about what he's blessed with perhaps, got teased a lot in school about it, had a few unfortunate experiences with girls."

"But actually, he really knows what to do with a woman," she continued, "Just in case you're still worried about it. Just in case you want to check he knows what he's doing with his generous endowment. Let me tell you, he really knows how to please a woman."

"He REALLY pleased this woman, over and over and over again."

"OK, OK I get it. I'm sorry Rachel," he repeated, "I let you down badly. I violated your trust. And his. I'll apologise to him too."

"You better."

"I will."

"Good."

She got up and walked across the room. He watched her as she moved around. She looked head strong, powerful, and beautiful. He felt like a little worm.

"I'm sorry to be so cruel to you Gavin, but I just want you to understand, and realise that things have changed around here."

"What do you mean?"

"You're my husband. I love you."

He stared at her, questioning.

"Yes, I love you, despite everything."

"I love you too," he said.

"But I love him too. I think I'm in love with him. And I don't mean as our son, which is a given."

He took a long sip of his drink.

"Look, I'm not going to pretend that this was all your fault," she continued.

"That I always had entirely innocent thoughts about him. I think many women entertain certain fantasies about their sons. I'll admit that I fantasised about him. But I never would have acted without your encouragement."

"Rachel, I can only repeat how sorry I am," he said. "I did a stupid thing, and I let my fetish get the better of me. But I honestly believed I was opening the door to something wonderful for you and for him."

"Oh, it was wonderful alright."

"Oh?" he said, curious to draw something out of her, despite the perilous situation.

"It was the most incredible sex I've ever had. I've never connected with anyone like I do with him before, including you."

"Well, that's OK," he said, "You've always had a special relationship."

"There, you've wheedled that little detail out of me, haven't you. Considering his somewhat limited experience so far, Paul is clearly destined to make some woman, or women, very happy indeed with his talents."

She sat down opposite him, and he tentatively reached out to take her hands in his.

"Look Gavin," she sighed, softening. "You let me down. But I love you. And I forgive you. But you opened a door, which cannot be closed now. And you're going to have to live with the consequences."

"What do you mean?"

"Me and him. We can't just pretend none of this ever happened."

"You mean that you'll continue..."

"Yes, Paul and I will continue to get together, whenever we want to, and you'll just have to put up with it."

"OK," he said hesitantly, "And where does this leave me?"

"Well, you're my husband, and you'll continue to be my husband, in every respect, if you want to?"

"Yes, I do."

"But sometimes I'll be sleeping in his bed."

"Right..." he said.

"Can you cope with that?"

"I don't know," he replied honestly.

"Look, I'm sorry about some of the things I said. I didn't mean to humiliate you. Make you into some sort of cuckold."

"I think you did that quite successfully, thanks," he mumbled. He wasn't sure about this arrangement.

"Well maybe I did. I was angry. But I'm OK now. Got it off my chest."

"OK."

"Now go and apologise to Paul about it. He's upstairs."

Probably listening to every word, she thought, as Gavin steeled himself for another round of self-abasement.

Later that evening, after a strained meal between the three of them, with everyone avoiding the obvious, she sidled into Paul's room while Gavin was downstairs.

"You OK?" he asked.

"I'm OK," she said, "Did he apologise to you?"

"Yes," he said, "It was pretty weird. Well, very weird. But we talked it all out. It was OK in the end."

"What did he say?"

Paul described how Gavin had muttered his way through an apology, and falteringly recounted how it had all come about, and why he thought he was trying to help him in some way. He'd even admitted, in very vague terms, his own incestuous past with his mother.

"I believe him," Paul said, "I think he was being genuine. But he also had a bit of a thing about it. You know. An obsession. I think he became fixated about the idea of seeing us, you know, together."

She nodded.

"And I guess this obsession, with seeing us have sex, overcame his other motives," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "I don't think he was thinking straight."

"Did you hear us before?" she asked.

He nodded.

"Did you hear everything?"

"I think so - you were really going for him pretty loud mum!"

"Did you hear what I told him about you and me?"

"You mean?" raising an eyebrow, glancing down.

"No," she laughed, slapping his arm, "Not the stuff about your massive dick. About the fact that you and I will continue to make love together, from time to time."

"From time to time?" he asked in mock disappointment. He stepped up to her and stroked her hair. "Only time to time?"

"Paul!" she laughed, impressed at his new-found confidence, despite the situation they were in.

"How about now?"

"No, Paul," she laughed again, as he hugged her to his body, and they kissed.

"No Paul, not now," she said, as she pushed him away, "That would be really rubbing his nose in it."

That night, Rachel and Gavin were getting ready for bed when he smiled at her awkwardly and said, "You can go to him."

She stared at him surprised.

"I know you want to," he said, "You've been on edge all evening. And not for the obvious reasons. I've seen the looks you've been giving each other."

It was true. She thought that she was being subtle. But the smouldering stares she'd been getting from Paul had been plain to see, even by her husband.

"Gavin," she said, "I don't want this to be any more awkward than it is already."

"No really, it's OK. It's been a weird day all round. Can't get any weirder," he said giving a forced laugh.

"But..." she began, and he cut her off. "Rachel, I'm not saying you do this every night, or even most nights, but tonight's OK, really."

"You're doing your penance, are you?" she asked, trying to conceal her excitement levels.

"Maybe I am, I don't know. But it's OK, you won't upset me."

"OK," she said, pulling out a pair of pyjamas from a drawer.

He raised an eyebrow.

"You're not wearing those though, are you?"

"Well, what have you got in mind?" she asked.

"Oh, I don't know, something a little bit skimpier maybe?"

She stared at him again. He really was raising the stakes. She moistened in anticipation.

"You've got a few bits and pieces in there which used to raise my blood pressure," he said levelly, "Give him a treat."

She shook her head and delved deep into her drawer, pulling out a couple of flimsy garments, one white and one black.

"Go for black," he advised, "White's a bit virginal. I think we're past that now, aren't we?"

Rachel's hand was shaking a little, mostly in excitement, but partly in disbelief. Was he toying with her?

"You're serious about this are you?"

He nodded.

"Because we're just going to be down the hall you know. You're probably going to hear stuff."

"Look we talked about this before. And I'm OK with it."

She shrugged her shoulders and took her little black thing into the bathroom with her and closed the door. She felt too self-conscious to dress herself up for her lover, his son, in front of him.

In the bathroom she took a deep breath and looked at herself in the mirror incredulously. Her nipples were like spikes. It was like the twilight zone.

She shimmied into her sheer black lace chemise, relieved that she could still get into it, just about. It was tight around the bust, but maybe that was a good thing.

She looked at herself with a shudder. Her image in the mirror said one thing. Sex.

She imagined the reaction she would get from Paul.

She applied a bit of subtle make up and a cautious waft of perfume, in all the strategic places. Primped her hair. Dab of lipstick.

She stared again wantonly, pursing her full lips. She was a sexy cougar.

But she couldn't bear to see her husband's face, looking like that, so she wrapped her thick bathrobe around her, to march back through the bedroom.

"Hey, hey, hey," he cautioned, "Let me see you?"

She swivelled to face him, sighed, and pulled open the robe for a moment.

"Wow!" he said.