My Son and Me

The years went by. Peter went to uni, then got a great job with an investment bank, things between John and I deteriorated to the point that we got divorced and a few months after Peter got transferred to Dubai and Sara went to uni. I was alone in a lovely apartment in London.

During his time at university and the first year with the investment bank I saw quite a lot of Peter as he came home fairly frequently from uni, mainly for friends' parties and for football and cricket club events and lived with us when he first went out to work. Having him 'on tap' as it were gave me a range of feelings and emotions. A straightforward mother's pleasure at seeing a lot of her son; that was natural and pure. But then there was the unnatural and somewhat impure when I imagined what we could do together and when I recalled the thoughts I had about him as I had sex with those younger guys. Most of the time I was able to cope ok, but then something would trigger me off, perhaps when I was ironing his clothes or tidying his room or when I saw an attractive young man when I was shopping or at the gym. Then, my mind recalled the sex with 'my conquests' and how when doing it with them I imagined it was Peter. And of course, other events from the past regularly came into my mind.

That time at my fortieth where John had let me down about going to the Ritz and Peter had consoled me to the point that I thought we were going to kiss. When we danced at my anniversary and he held me in a completely, non-son/motherly way squashing my breasts against his chest and I felt the movement of an erection; the afternoon he came home unexpectedly and I was lying topless on my back in the garden. I looked up and our eyes caught. We both smiled. His eyes zeroed in on my breasts. I froze. I didn't know what to do. I half wanted to sit up and flaunt them to him and then I thought for a moment he was going to sit on my sun bed but he said rather croakily.

"Sorry mum," and went inside.

There were other smaller incidences. Little touches, brushing against each other, lingering smiles, catching him looking down my top, at my legs or breasts, frequent flirtatious remarks and double entendres.

After the divorce was finalised, we got a quickie, Peter phoned and said.

"Come out for a holiday?"

At first I said no but then after chatting with him I agreed. I knew that he shared a flat overlooking the marina and he told me that the flatmate was coming home so his room would be vacant for two weeks. Apparently its quite common out there to have the agreement that when one or the other is away for a period that the other can have a visitor and use the room. So, we agreed a date a few weeks ahead.

"March is lovely weather-wise mum and we have a small pool area at the flats we can use and I have a pass to the One and Only Hotel if you want something special."

He suggested that I fly on a Thursday as he could finish work at two and was off on Fridays and Saturdays.

"So, I'll be able to bed you in."

Bed me in. I thought, does that mean more than it sounds, god I was getting carried away! Nevertheless, that phrase kept coming into my mind as the day for my 'flight to destiny' got nearer as did his parting remark on a phone call.

"Bring bikinis mum they suit you better than swimsuits."

Of course, since agreeing to go and the day I travelled I could think of hardly anything else than what might happen. How the hell I would last living and sleeping in a flat alone with him for a week was beyond me?

However, since my fling with Jack that had gone on for the best part of six months and still reared its head when he came to London, my feelings for Peter had settled down. They were still there but more under control, maybe what I was doing with Jack overcame them I had speculated many times? Now, though they exploded into their full graphic glory again and time and time again I wondered if he felt the same and I speculated whether he was intending this to be more than holiday.

During the period leading up to the divorce he had been a great comfort to me and as that dragged on I felt we came near several times to 'crossing the bridge' between mother and son affection and family sex. We cuddled a lot, now and then he held my hand or put his arm round me and we seemed to hold each other's gazes much longer. There seemed to me to be a closeness, more affection and, even, an intimacy that had not been there before. He became the man of the house and both Sara and I deferred to him. Some evenings, especially when I may have drunk too much, I imagined us tidying up after Sara had gone to bed, walking up the stairs together and both of us turning right at the top of the stairs rather than him taking the left leading to his room. But nothing overt happened and he went off to Dubai with me in tears.

We'd discussed the sort of clothes I should bring and, making my heart beat a little faster he had quipped with a laugh.

"Nothing too sexy mum and I'll have to inspect you before we go out."

I knew that at times they cracked down on too much female flesh on show and I realised what he meant so I was careful with the dresses I took for what I assumed would be evenings out shopping and dining. I packed several not too revealing bikinis and other casual stuff but could hardly believe that when it came to underwear I selected mostly AP and Janet Reger elegantly, sexy stuff; clearly lingerie to be undressed in I smiled thinking 'chance would be a fine thing.'

I was a bag of nerves all the way on the seven-hour Emirates flight. Fortunately, I whizzed through immigration and my luggage was waiting so I was in the arrivals quite quickly. It was an amazing feeling to walk through the sliding doors and the first face I saw was my son's. Fuck, did he look good in his white Polo shirt and khaki shorts. He took me in his arms and we kissed. Although mouth wise it was a mother and son kiss, as far as our bodies were concerned it was more than that. His arm that went around my back pulled me against him and as our lips pressed against the other's cheek our bodies were squashed together from our chests to our toes. I barely managed to keep my lips from his and when we broke away the look in his eyes hinted that he felt the same.

We chatted easily in his Porsche during the thirty minute or so drive from the gigantic airport to the Jumeirah area of Dubai and I persuaded myself that our relationship was and would be for the holiday, mother and son. Well by the time we got to Peter's apartment block I had persuaded my head that was the case, but I still had doubts about my body and I was pleased that I was wearing a sweater!

As most things are in Dubai, the apartment was luxurious, beautifully laid-out, decorated and furnished and had great views along the marina. My room had a large window overlooking the busy city and though tight was ample though, both that and Peter's room had bathrooms en suite. Placing my suitcase on the bed that I noted was turned down, Peter explained space is saved on the sleeping areas to provide more for the living quarters saying as he caught my eye.

"After all you do more in the living area than the sleeping don't you?"

I think we both realised the double meaning but we let it pass.

"Would you like something to eat mum?"

"No the airline fed me well so I'm fine."

"Let's have a drink then and we can get to bed."

Again there was a pregnant silence.

"What time do you get up?"

"Friday tomorrow so whenever you want, I thought maybe we would go to one of the brunches at a hotel."

"I meant normally."

"Oh work days?"

"Yes."

"Five-thirty in the summer when we start at seven, and six thirty in the winter. But tomorrow mum sleep until you want to."

He poured us glasses of white wine.

"Perhaps sit outside, it's not too hot yet."

"So, is it usually hot at night?" I asked following him out onto the small balcony looking down on the water.

There was a light breeze that brought up the smell of water which was pleasant and refreshing.

"Christ yes, in the summer it's mostly near forty most nights."

I did the quick calculation of doubling Celsius and adding twenty-eight to convert to Fahrenheit and thought 'wow over a hundred.'

"And quite humid, so outside life ends in May, after that everything wherever possible is indoors fun."

As he said what again could have a double or suggestive meaning our eyes caught but nothing was said.

We finished the first glasses of wine that he refreshed as I filled him in on the family news and what was happening at home and then went to bed.

With the four-hour time difference it was early for me so I took ages to get to sleep. At one point I got up as I had forgotten to slip into my nighty. At home and usually wherever I go I sleep naked but thought it more prudent to wear something at Peter's - just in case. Inevitably, I suppose, lying in bed just a few feet from my son I had very lurid thoughts about him and us. I had feared this before accepting his invitation, but at the same time I had welcomed it wondering whether the change of scene would change our thinking. Time and again before arriving here I had thought. 'Would anything happen, is it all in my mind or in his as well? And if we did do anything what would happen next?' God it was so complicated, daunting and worrying.

It was just on midnight, eight pm my body time, when I gave up and got up. Momentarily, I thought of going to his room and knocking on the door under some pretence, but of course I didn't. The fear of rejection was far too high!

I logged onto my PC and went into my personal email, not the business one. My heart beat a little faster when I saw there was a mail from Jack. He said that he would be in London the next Thursday and could stay overnight, making me smile when I read 'if I wanted a lodger?' I logged into hangouts on the off chance he was online and almost immediately I had said hi, he came back. I told him that I was away and would not be able to put him up on Thursday. We exchanged a few messages before he told me how horny he was. And asked if I was. We had done this sort of thing along with phone sex a few times so I was not that surprised and told him that I was but didn't say that I was in Dubai or with Peter.

"How's this make you feel?" he asked flashing a photo of himself onto my screen. He was naked and semi-erect and looked fantastic.

"Very aroused."

"What we going to do about that?"

"I don't know."

"What you wearing?"

"Just a nighty."

"Bit early for that isn't it?"

I'd forgotten the time difference and made something up about having driven a long way I had showered and was getting ready for bed.

"But you sleep naked."

"Not when away in a hotel."

"So take it off."

"Why?" I asked now feeling very aroused.

"Because I want to fuck you, or have you fuck yourself."

And that's exactly what we did. I slipped out of the nighty, caressed my breasts and pinched my nipples before sliding my hand down between my legs. I was ready and wet and found my clit immediately

"I am rubbing my cock Jay imagining it's your mouth on it and my fingers are up your cunt."

"Mmmmm yes and that Jack is exactly where they are."

I toyed with going on skype to chat to him as we cybered but worried that it would disturb Peter so we just typed instead as we brought ourselves off.

It really was the most sexually bizarre situation. Here I was in my son's flat naked, having electronic sex with my daughter's ex-boyfriend. As I rubbed and squeezed my breasts and fingered myself so the one-time familiar image of Peter doing it to me came into my mind. That hadn't happened so much since I had been having this fling with Jack and it alarmed me to realise I was not over Peter. But then really I knew that and this trip to Dubai was simply emphasising it.

The next day Peter showed me round Dubai and we had brunch at a hotel which was quite spectacular. We had a pleasant, though tiring day which was made more so as I had woken up at four thirty due to the time differences.

There were a few embarrassing moments during the day, particularly at the brunch when we danced together a couple of times. Maybe I was imagining it but I felt that us together looking completely like a couple raised a few people's eyebrows who I was sure were wondering why someone my age was with such a young and strikingly good looking young man, but then, I rationalised that gave the answer.

"Eat in tonight shall we mum?" he asked.

"Whatever darling, it's your show."

"Do you see him much?" Peter asked after dinner as we sat on the balcony looking at the marina.

"Who your dad?"

"Yes him," Peter said smiling.

"Only for school things for Sara," I lied.

"Things ok?"

"Yes fine."

"Any er, um step-fathers for S and me on the horizon?" he asked smiling.

"No don't be silly."

"Been on any dates?"

"A couple yes."

"And?"

"And what?"

"Anything serious?"

"No, I don't really enjoy them."

"Why not?"

"It all seems a bit contrived."

"How do you mean?"

"Well they all seem to go through a sort of process, a sifting, a finding out how compatible you both are."

"Yes, I know what you mean like how much you fancy each other."

"Yes, I suppose so, something like that?"

"And how compatible were you with them mum?" he asked smiling as I realised where this line of talk was leading. I tried changing the subject but he came back to it.

"Aren't you lonely mum, don't you just want some company, maybe someone to cuddle you now and then?"

"Might be nice now and then, but there you go."

"Don't you miss the, er um affection that there was with dad once."

"Yes of course I miss it we had some really good times together but you get over such things the older you get "

"Er I didn't really mean good times mum."

"What then?" I asked rather naively.

"Never mind better leave it," he said looking quite embarrassed.

The next day, Saturday, Peter was at work, his weekend varied between Thursday and Friday and Friday and Saturday, and I was going to spend most of the day by the small but perfectly adequate pool. He went off before I got up. I showered slipped into a one-piece bathing suit, had breakfast, around ten, attended to some emails and texts then went to the pool. I was by myself there for an hour or so during which Peter phoned to see if everything was ok, but then a few more people arrived. I went up to the apartment for lunch had a doze in the cool of my bedroom, replaced the one-piece suit with a blue bikini and then went back to the pool around three thirty when it was quite crowded. During the late winter and early spring, the sun goes down and the heat is lost around four thirty and it was just before then that Peter came wandering across the pool. As he approached where I was lying on a sun bed, I sat up and he bent and kissed me on the cheek as he placed his hand on my bare shoulder; a perfectly innocent looking gesture but one full of such anticipation for me,.

"Everything ok mum?" he said quite loudly, I assumed letting people know we were not a number.

"Yes fine love," I replied enjoying and being rather thrilled at the way he ran his eyes up and down me.

"Mmmm nice mum," he muttered sitting on the lounger next to me.

"What?"

"The bikini and er."

"Er Peter?"

"Er what's in it," he whispered.

"Peter stop it."

"Yes, I had better as people might think we are cohabiting which is illegal."

"Really?"

"Yes, but as the flat has two bedrooms we are ok. That's how couples get away with living together."

"How do you mean?"

"Well like us, as long as you can show clearly that you have separate bedrooms its ok."

"I see."

He went on looking at me. "Whether you use both or not. So, if there was only one, what would happen?" I asked.

"Probably nothing as they would be unlikely to know, but if we were grassed up and we had just one-bedroom god knows what would happen as we are mother and son."

That evening we went to a nice Thai restaurant where again I saw several people staring at us making me feel awkward as I wondered what they were thinking.

When we got home both a little tipsy as we'd had two bottles of red I mentioned it to him.

"So, does it worry you mum, people thinking I'm your toy boy?"

"Actually, yes I guess it does in a way."

"Ok, I'll have a sign made that I'll wear on my forehead saying, 'she's my mum,' will that make you feel better?"

I laughed and told him not to be silly.

"How's the jet lag going?" He asked as we were clearing up in preparation for bed.

"It's ok."

"Got you last night didn't it?"

"How do you mean?" I asked as alarm bells rang in my mind.

"Just that I woke up dunno what time and thought I heard you."

Wondering just what the hell he heard and hoping that I hadn't moaned I replied.

"Yes, I tossed and turned quite a bit."

"Should have given me a knock," he said coming close to me and putting his arm round me. "We could have er..."

As we looked at each other I mumbled "What?" wondering whether this was the moment. Leaning forward he slid his arm round me causing my heart to pound and my pulse to race. 'God it is,' I thought as his face came close to mine, but it wasn't. Kissing me on the cheek he went on.

"Had a chat or a drink or something."

"I didn't like to come out of the bedroom in case I woke you," I said aware that we were still close and his arm had remained round my waist.

"Don't worry about that mum, wake me any time."

"Really?"

"Yes of course and use the lounge and kitchen, I sleep like a log," he went on shattering my hopes as he moved away saying. "Night mum."

The next day I took a cab to the One and Only hotel where a friend from way back was staying and spent the morning round the pool with her and her husband and kids. That helped me clear my head of Peter who in my mind was now back to the obsessive level of pre-Jack!

I didn't stay for lunch as Peter said he had a meeting and would be home around two.

I went back to the apartment, showered and put on a clean and unused white bikini, with a yellow, voile sundress over it, I didn't bother with shoes. I prepared a light lunch of Caesar salad that I assumed we would eat on the balcony and poured a glass of white wine.

I was very nervous waiting for him. Although nothing overt had happened last night there had been moments when it seemed as if something might. It was like the time when John had let me down about my birthday and Peter had consoled me to the point where I thought we would kiss or when we danced together at my anniversary and he held me against him and I felt the stirrings of his erection.

Once more I was so confused half thinking I should take the lead or show him that I was 'available' but with the other half scared to do that in case I was reading the signs wrongly. I summarised the situation in that it was unlikely that there was ever going to be a more suitable time for 'something to happen.' We had the time, location and opportunity, all that was needed was the will from both of us. The question bugging me was did I have that will to confront the inevitable enormous complications that would ensue if we had sex?

He arrived a little after two and after pecking me on the cheek, running his gaze up and down me, telling me that I looked good he said.

"Let me change and grab a shower and I'll do lunch."

"Already done it love," I told him pointing to the table where it was laid out.

"Oh wow mum, how lovely to have a woman around the place."

We stared at each other for a moment or two as that remark sort of hung in the air between us until he broke it by saying. "Must get changed."

Returning fifteen or so minutes later in a yellow tee shirt and beige shorts, both fashionably tight, he looked breathtakingly attractive and I could feel myself getting warm and tingly.