Well, now – where do I start?
I'm not used to doing anything like this. By which I mean sitting down and writing down my thoughts and feelings. Or, come to that, sitting here naked writing down my thoughts and feelings.
Because that's what I am – naked – and that's why I'm trying to take some deep breaths and focus on the words. I'm experimenting, you see, trying something new and daring. It's 5.30 in the morning here and the rest of the house is asleep – pretty obviously given how I'm dressed and the fact that 'the rest of the house' comprises by husband and my eighteen year old son.
Other than experimenting with something new and daring, it does beg the question of why I would take such a risk and to be honest, I haven't a clue why I'm doing it. I thought it might give me a thrill, sitting here nude with my robe over there in the doorway, every creak of the floors upstairs sending a thrill coursing through my body. And it does – far more than I even dared hope for.
Mike, my husband, will no doubt be asleep until around nine, as this is his day off, but Adam, my son, will need to be up by around half-seven to get himself together enough to get off to college. Okay, so I should be safe enough for another hour or two, but it doesn't change the fact that I am totally naked here and the guys are just a few feet away – vertically – without a clue.
I know from the pillow talk that sometimes gets us purring that Mike would love what I'm doing, and get a real kick out of the risk I'm taking. But Adam? Well there you have it really. He is the risk in so many ways. He's been peeking – or trying to – for a few years now, but if he ever saw me like this, I think he'd explode. Not that I actually want him to. See me that is, or explode for that matter. But just knowing that if a small grenade went off under his bed and he charged downstairs he might just catch me... well, it gives me a little thrill if truth be told.
It's not just the risk, though, that makes this such a thrill. I don't know if you've ever walked around your house naked but it feels so weird and wild. I'm typing this in our living room at the rear of the house and it's dark outside – I can't see if there's anyone out there looking in at this naked lady, sitting typing. I know that the chances of that actually happening are next to zero – the back of the house looks out on a small copse of trees that border a local golf course, and keen or not, very few golfers ever play before it's light – but it still feels so daring, and I feel so exposed.
I have been seen before during daylight hours – twice in the seven years we've lived here, and only ever topless – by golfers whose drives must have been sliced horribly to end up so deep amongst the trees. Not that they were complaining after locating their missing balls and getting a very brief peek at a local half-naked housewife, I imagine – but neither occasion was deliberate. Even though I'm typing this completely naked, take it from me that I'm too shy to deliberately let any passing golfer see anything untoward. I will, however, admit to 'just happening' to be in the kitchen at the front of the house wearing just rather flimsy undies a couple of times when I was fairly sure that a young businessman – a former neighbour – might be wandering past on his way to work. A rough patch in an otherwise happy marriage, or possibly an early sign of latent horniness.
5.50 now and every minute that passes makes me feel ever more exposed and, I have to admit, rather more aroused than I imagined I might be after this amount of time. There's still ages to go before there's any real danger and I'm starting to think that's just as well. The urge to please – pleasure – myself is getting stronger by the second and let's face it, I can do it, can't I? Ooh, I can, it seems – that was a slight pause as I let my hands caress – the right word – my bare breasts and then slide down my belly to a very warm, very wet part of me. I can even call it my pussy out for you since this is now definitely 'me time'.
The typing is becoming a tad disjointed now as playing is taking on a more distinct role. I'm not really fantasising or anything – just being here, being naked and playing with myself is enough. I have sensitive breasts – tits (I do like that word no matter that it's not supposed to be a 'feminine' way of referring to them) – and just cupping their weight in my hands, my thumbs rubbing across my rigid nipples – oh it's such a delight. And leaning back in this little chair, my fingers probing my wetness and heat. That's a form of heaven.
Exposure like this is constantly thrilling me in new and wilder ways. I know my tits have been seen before by those who really shouldn't, but all of me? My pussy? Never. And it's not just that I have nothing on below my waist – any woman can sit with knees touching, naked, and shows nothing really – but I'm constantly leaning back and spreading my thighs, exposing the hot, pink centre of me. I don't want to be caught like this – but I do want to be in danger of being caught like it.
Still only 6.10 (my typing really is slowing down) and I'm just getting hotter and hotter. The floorboards upstairs keep creaking as they settle and warp with the temperature changes, and every noise sends my pulse sky-rocketing. I was tugging gently on a nipple when that last creak came and my fingers tightened involuntarily, and I gasped with the thrill it sent though my naked form. My belly muscles pulsed and brought me ever close to climax.
And here I am, fingering hard and frequently now, suddenly sure that I am going to do something I've never done before in this house: I'm going to bring myself to orgasm with both the guys here in the building, while I sit here naked, trying not to whimper too loudly. I'm having to leave a good thirty seconds or more between every sentence I type and the feeling of pure decadence is growing with every minute. Every nerve ending is tingling, even the breaths that I take are sending shivers of real pleasure through my veins.
I don't reach climax easily – never have – but sitting here in this dark, silent house (give or take a little creak), I just know that it's going to happen soon and it won't matter that I take an age to finish because there's no one to interrupt. It's luxury mixed with liberal doses of daring and thrills. My heart beat is pounding loud and fast, I'm sweating despite wearing absolutely nothing, I'm using a little cushion to muffle the increasingly loud moans that I can't help but make, and the first little bucks and twitches are fluttering deep in my belly.
A double first, this will be – because I know it must be now – the first time I've ever climaxed like this and the first time I've ever thought to write down my thoughts as I get closer and closer. Both of those things are hot on their own, but together... oh what a combination! I almost – almost wish...
Oh god that last creak was very loud...
[this section was edited later to make it legible]
I think I should stop – that wasn't just the house settling – that was a footstep up there.
Bit of a problem and hard to type. Started really shaking. Tried to get up to get robe but belly fluttering like mad...
Another creak and this is trouble...
Can I write that? And what the fuck does it matter? I'm too close...
That wasn't just a flutter, it's starting. And that was a definite creak caused by a foot...
Oh my god this can't be happening...
It's from the back of the house. It's Adam...
I thought I had so long. Got to get robe...
Oh dear patience! Can't get up. Can't stop it...
Stairs! Oh my fucking god... that was a spasm... deep...
Oh god he's going to... I can't... oh...
[this next section was written six hours later]
What can I say. You must know I didn't mean to be caught. I tried to keep writing because I thought it would stop things. Wrong, I know. Now, at least.
He walked right into the room before he even realised anything was happening. I'd already started – to climax, that is – as you can probably tell from what I managed to write, but when Adam strode into the room just a few feet in front of me I lost all control. His eyes were real early morning until I let out the first moan and then they focused so hard and fast. Focused on my totally bare breasts. And then on my fingers as they rubbed hard and frantically across my exposed pussy. It just made me cum harder and harder, and the harder I was climaxing, the more my boy stared at me. His boxers bulged and that made me cum harder. He whispered 'wow' and that made me cum harder. He put one hand on the front of his boxers – I cum harder. He said 'mum, are you...?' and I started to really wail as I cum yet harder. I tried to apologise even as my hips were bucking, my tits bouncing as I climaxed so close to my own son. So help me I held out my hand towards him – his hands.
He understood what I meant somehow. He grabbed my free hand and squeezed it tightly as his own free hand started to rub furiously at his so obvious erection through his boxers. When I managed to say 'yes' staring at that bulge he misunderstood that. He pushed the boxers down and his young cock sprang into view. Our hands unlocked and I grabbed at him even as his hands landed on my upper chest.
I rolled backwards, still bucking, still climaxing – not a multiple, but the longest orgasm I've ever had – and Adam landed on top of me. I think I tried to say 'no' but his cock parted my already soaking wet pussy lips in a single move.
A single move later, the head of his cock went from parting me to thrusting into me. And then he was there. He looked as surprised as I felt, but momentum won the day. My son, my baby just a couple of decades before, had his rock hard cock inside my soaking wet, hot pussy. My son was fucking me.
The 'no' I'd tried to say before turned to a stream of one word endlessly repeated: 'yes', I bucked and writhed and grabbed at his butt to pull him as deeply inside me as I could. He cum fast and I stopped him pulling out, and then kept him there deep inside me as his cock barely sagged before he was rigid again.
I'd finished my orgasm at one level, but at another I was still in the throes. I told him that I'd never felt so hot, so aroused. I told him I knew that this was all wrong for so many people – but so right for me. I told him that I'd never known before, but knew now. I told him that I adored him in so many ways. I told him to fuck me, hard.
What can I say? We fucked, made love, Words were whispered as eyes tried not to stray towards the ceiling. There was nervousness bordering on fear. There was shock verging on disbelief. There was my son's hot, rigid cock moving with something close to desperation as he repeatedly, blissfully impaled me, thrusting deep and hard.
I started to cum fully again, biting into his shoulder to stifle what would otherwise have been howls of delight. Adam's body took its cue from me and he buried his face in the cushion beside my head and he thrust one more time, deeply, cock twitching as he spurted what felt like a gallon of cum deep inside my pussy.
Time blurred as the moments of climax stretched into infinity and I felt myself almost merging with my boy as our mutual climaxes intertwined and we bucked an shuddered together. I don't care if I never cum that perfectly ever again in my life: that was perfection.
Focus returned after however long it was – minutes, maybe – and we found ourselves entwined, sweat-soaked, panting, gasping, bodies twitching with a series of aftershocks that felt, to me at least, stronger than some full orgasms that I've experienced in the past. In the minutes that followed as our breathing finally began to slow, I held Adam closely to me. At one point he seemed to want to slip away but I shook my head and grasped his slippery back harder. I told him that he was now the perfect son, with no idea where that thought came from. He told me I was beautiful.
It was a distant creaking floorboard that finally had us untangling our limbs and dashing for the few items of clothing that had been discarded at different points earlier. Adam's eyes were wide, a little fearful, almost pleading.
"You've just got down here, okay? Nothing unusual going on, and I asked you whether you wanted a coffee and that's where we are now, got it?" I whispered quickly, running my hands through the tangles of my hair, then louder I added for the benefit of approaching ears, "Not like you to be up this early. Bad dream?"
Adam nodded and looked directly into my eyes, "Totally the opposite, mum. I never wanted it to end."
Just before Mike made his appearance I let my voice drop for one sentence, "It doesn't have to end, got it?"
The look of relief on my boy's face almost sent another aftershock through my belly. I had to clear my throat as my husband yawned his way into the room. "Hey Mike, good morning and do you want a coffee as well since I was making one anyway for the earlybird here?"
Mike yawned again, nodding and muttering 'morning' He waited until Adam turned towards the doorway and wandered through to the dining room, and then Mike patted my butt through the little robe I had pulled on. "Looking hot, honey."
"New exercise regime."
"I meant cute hot, but if that's a result of the new exercises, I'm all for it."
"Oh," I managed, turning towards the kettle so my blush was less obvious, "I think this new routine will work out just fine."
Mike gave a soft chuckle, "I take it you didn't expect Adam to be up so early, then?"
Trying not to panic, I pulled what I hoped was a totally quizzical look and looked back at my husband, "Sorry?"
"I guess you didn't realise it," Mike whispered, lifting a hand to cup my left breast, "but you can see your nips rather well though this robe. No wonder he was looking a bit awkward when I come in here."
I gasped and pushed Mike's hand away, covering my breasts with my arms and glancing at the doorway through which Adam had departed. I replied with a frantic whisper, "I never even gave it a thought, I'm sorry-"
Mike's finger to my lips stopped me short, "It doesn't bother me, angel." He shrugged, a grin playing around his mouth, "In fact it's rather sexy."
"Don't you mean kinky? That's our son through there!" Oscar-quality.
"That's as may be, but he's not a little boy anymore, and that is one damned sexy look." Mike looked deep into my eyes, "I dare you to stay dressed like that and make an excuse to get Adam in here for a while."
I feigned surprise and doubt, but I didn't need to feign the colour rising in my cheeks, "He's still a teenager, just. Doesn't take too much to get guy like him excited and you're really saying..."
Mike kissed my forehead, "Yes I am. I know it's a bit weird and wild but I think it's so hot." He pulled me into a hug and I could feel just how hot it was making him. He was rigid and I swear steam was rising from him.
I muttered, "I don't know..." to give myself a few seconds to try to think. Oh I wanted to do it – in a way to repay Mike for my 'sins' but also, of course, because I just wanted it so badly. But there again, could anything be said that would give the game away about what had already happened? Would-
Mike interrupted me with the saving move, "Look, angel, really... please? I need to go to the bathroom. Promise me you'll think about it real hard because I swear to you if you do this I'll do anything you want in return – absolutely anything." He paused and took a deep breath, "Just knowing he's seen you in that robe will keep me happy for weeks, but that's because I've kinda had a bit of a fantasy thing about this for years, okay? I admit it now because this is as close as it's ever got and I am just so silly desperate for this."
My jaw had dropped but as Mike turned on his heel and was about to take his own embarrassment through to the bathroom, I found myself whispering "Are you really sure?"
I think the look Mike gave as he paused and faced me was the most shocked anyone had looked that wild morning – and possibly also the most excited, and that's really saying something. "Oh angel, I am so sure."
"Give me a minute to think it through."
Mike disappeared at something close to a run and I shot into the dining room to find Adam.
"Did you overhear any of that? Yes? Good. Now listen, you've got to make out you're all-"
"Reluctant, shocked – I know, mum. I've never seen you like that before, it's all a shock, sorry but yes you turn me on..."
"You're smart." I sighed with relief "And just take all your permissions from your dad – ignore anything I say unless it's 'yes', got it"
Adam nodded, "I promise."
I didn't really trust myself to say anything else and in any case needed to take my place in the kitchen for Mike's return. I just smiled, shrugged and ran.
As I waited for my newly-revealed-as-kinky-thankfully husband to return I busied myself with making the drinks. Life can change completely in a matter of seconds, and two separate life-changing incidents had occurred for me within an hour. I made a mental note to by a lottery ticket.
"Well, did you come to a decision?"
Mike's hushed, slightly shaky voice suddenly close behind me gave me a start. So much so that I didn't think before coming out with a very flippant and totally unplanned "What's it worth?"
"Like I said," Mike's voice was even less steady, "anything at all. A hundred orgasms at your favourite hundred places, stripping for your book club, walking across molten lava..."
"How about I reserve the right to never mention any of this again and just say 'no' next time you refer to it or ask?"
"That was always a given for me, so of course that's agreed."
I gave a half-smile, "That was the right answer, buddy. Anything else would have made me wonder some more." After which I would have agreed anyway, but Mike wasn't to know that, "Although I might just add that I want you to organise a trip to some exotic club or something like that."
"You got that, too – and anything else you might think of..." My husband paused and strove to calm himself, "you're really sure that-"
I held up my hand, then once I was given some silence, loosened the tie on my robe, "I'm thinking you haven't really figured this all through, right? I mean, are you expecting a little direct view or just through my robe?"
"You'd really let him see for real?"
"Stop dribbling. I figure if we're going for a show then it should be done well enough to please the principal audience – you."
Mike visibly swallowed, "Oh jeez, baby, I would love that. And I'll make it up to you a thousand times over."
"Make it ten thousand times and maybe, just maybe I could consider a tad more than a peek... Or would that be too much to-"
It was Mike's turn to interrupt me as he grabbed me and kissed hard. He broke away after a few seconds and whispered "Not too much, no definitely not, and look... baby, I won't ever think bad of you for being so wild, so giving, no, just the opposite, but if we don't get this started I might just explode so if you really, really are sure then let's do it, okay?"
I nodded, uncertain of how much my voice would shake if I tried to say anything. And when I smiled, Mike picked up the coffee pot and shakily poured a mugful. He handed it to me and his eyes flicked towards the door. I gave another nod and took a deep breath before taking the first metaphorical steps towards a brave new world. I took a deep breath and swallowed. "Adam? There's a fresh coffee here for you!"
To his credit, Adam managed to stretch the time between my voice calling out and his appearance in the kitchen doorway to almost five seconds. That was an act, but I think the jaw-dropping stare he gave when his eyes took in just how much I was showing through that flimsy robe was all too genuine. Mike later said it was this single most thrilling moment of his life – up to that point – and I can believe it to judge by what I felt at that same second. I know all that had gone on before – and so very soon before, at that – but this was different in a million ways. Not least of which was the fact that there was some sort of tacit approval of mine and Adam's kinkiness.