Never to be Discussed or Repeated

Sometimes things just happen...

Margy was a forty-nine year old divorced mom, still in good shape, attractive but far from flashy. She had been divorced eight years now. Online dating had been a complete bust. Being forty-nine meant that most of her "likes" came from guys in their fifties, sixties and even their seventies. She had no interest in a relationship with a man whose idea of "going out on the town" in three years would be a doctor's visit, a stop at the pharmacy, and an early bird special at the local Chinese buffet. Margy felt like there was no place for her.

Her son, Jack, felt similarly disconnected. He had just turned eighteen and was working in a local burger joint for the summer until he went away to the state college in the fall. He never really fit in. He was too dorky for the stoners, not smart enough for the dorks, not good-looking enough for the cool kids, and had no desire to be part of the gym rats with their tank tops and protein shaker cups.

It was a typical Friday night. Jack was working, so Margy picked up a salad on her way home from work and ate her dinner on the couch, looking enviously at her old married friends' posts on Facebook of couples' dinners and flashy vacations, while some boring series on Netflix supplied the background noise that helped keep the apartment from being so quiet. Dessert was her typical Friday treat, a scoop of ice cream, half an Ambien and a couple of glasses of convenience store Chardonnay.

Jack got home from work around eleven. He took off his fast food uniform, threw it in a ball in the corner of his room, and grabbed a semi-clean t-shirt from the hamper. He stuck his head into Margy's bedroom to make sure she was sleeping and then took his laptop, bong and baggy with the three grams of weed he had left out onto the patio behind their apartment. As was his Friday routine, Jack sat on the plastic patio furniture in his underwear, smoked his pot and surfed the porn sites. He found a couple of decent videos, good enough to get him hard, but he was too bored and lazy to jack off. By twelve-thirty, he finished his weed, packed up his computer and went inside. Jack turned on the bathroom light, took a piss, and then looked at himself in the mirror. He was decent-looking enough, carried his "dad bod" well, but too unmotivated to try to find a girlfriend.

As he turned to leave the bathroom, he saw that the light shone across the hallway and into Margy's bedroom. She was fast asleep, the covers were kicked off, and her grey nightgown had crept up around her waist. Margy's pale, white ass glowed in the light filtering in from the bathroom. Maybe it was the pot that lowered his inhibitions, but Jack thought to himself, "Hmmmm, this is worth checking out for myself."

Jack walked silently into his mother's bedroom. She was asleep on her side, naked from the waist down, with her ass facing out, close to the edge of the bed. She was snoring lightly. The light from the bathroom made it easy to see. Jack took his time, looking her up and down. He started at her feet, looking carefully at her pedicure and the curves of the arches of her feet. His eyes moved up the backs of her calves and thighs. "No cellulite, Mom's kinda tight for nearly fifty."

His gaze met her ass. Jack knelt for a closer look. Margy's knees were drawn up slightly, leaving her cheeks open slightly and exposing her pussy to view from the back. Jack looked closely at her puffy mound and thin, small pink lips. Margy was hairless. Jack looked closer, close enough now that he could see the faintest sign of razor bumps. "Fuck man, Mom shaves her pussy!" Jack was close enough to feel the heat of her skin. He inhaled deeply, taking his mother's scent, which was a distinct combination of her favorite body wash and her natural smell. "Mmmmmmm, she smells so fucking good."

Jack stood to continue his survey. His gaze traced up her crack to the small, hollow where Margy's back met her butt. His eyes traced the bumps of his mother's spine until they disappeared under her nightie. He looked at how the swell of her hips narrowed to her tummy. He moved up her back, admiring the fair skin of her shoulders exposed under the straps of her nightgown and admiring her thin arms. He was impressed. "Forty-nine and no bat wings. Pretty fucking nice!" Just the mere thought of bat wings reminded Jack of Mrs. Murphy, his old homeroom teacher, whose skin on the underside of her arms would flap as she wrote on the blackboard, sometimes so violently that Jack thought she might take flight. But Margy's skin was firm and taught.

Jack reached the head of the bed and looked down at Margy, still fast asleep. Sure, he had seen his mother millions of times, but he never really looked at her. She really was very beautiful. Her auburn hair, tousled from sleep, still framed her face. Her skin was smooth and soft, unblemished even without makeup. He studied her for maybe the first time ever, from the curl of her ear, down her smooth jawline, to her chin with the slightest hint of a cleft. Even without lipstick, her lips were full. Her nose was small, curving up slightly at the tip, and with her eyes closed, Jack could see how long her lashes were without mascara. Jack was stunned. "I never really thought of her that way, but Mom is really hot."

As he stepped in for a closer look, Jack tripped over Margy's slipper on the floor. He stumbled against the side of the bed and then froze. He was certain that he woke her. Jack's pot-addled brain struggled to come up with some plausible explanation for why he had spent the last twenty-five minutes staring at his own mother. Lucky for him, Margy didn't even move. "Holy fuck! She slept through that! What the fuck?"

Jack scanned her nightstand with the empty wineglass and the bottle of Ambien right next to it. He understood. Margy's Friday treat, a sleeping pill and a couple of glasses of wine, did the trick. She was fast asleep with no sign that Jack's little stumble woke her at all. Having dodged a bullet, Jack felt emboldened. He touched her arm. No reaction. He rubbed her thigh. Nothing. He rolled the back of her nightgown up higher on her back. She didn't move a muscle.

"OMFG, could this be?" Jack wondered, "Would Mom really stay asleep no matter what?" He reached under her nightgown and slid his hand up the front, all the way up, until he cupped her breast. Not as tight as when she was in her twenties, but Margy was proud that even in her late forties, her boobs continued their fight against gravity. Jack was amazed how perky Margy's boobs felt. "What great set of tits Mom's got! What a fucking rack!"

Jack withdrew his hand from under Margy's nightgown and stood at the side of the bed, proud of himself, as if he had been some great explorer of an undiscovered country. At that moment, Jack became very aware of his own erection. His penis was rock hard, pitching forward and upward, straining against his well-worn briefs. "Fuck man, I'm pitching a tent." Emboldened by his success, Jack pulled down his briefs and allowed his cock to spring out. Impressed with himself, Jack pulled off his t-shirt and threw it on the floor next to his underwear. "Fuck yeah! I'm naked in Mom's room!" Jack amused himself with a little celebration dance, his hard cock bouncing up and down.

Confident that nothing would break Margy's drug-and-booze sleep, Jack lifted one knee onto the bed, the tip of his penis close to Margy's pussy as she lay on her side, knees up. He leaned forward, rubbing the head of his cock against her soft lips. He reached forward, pulling up the nightgown and exposing her breasts. This was amazing! He continued to rub his cock against her lips, which were becoming slick with his precum. Lost in his own pleasure, Jack did not notice Margy's legs begin to stir.

Even through her self-medicated haze, Margy began to feel herself being touched. Convinced it was just a dream, Margy struggled to stay asleep, not wanting these sensations to stop if she woke. "If this is a dream, please do not let me wake up." But, the sensations grew stronger. She could feel a hand on her breast and the head of a penis running along her slit. Wait a minute! What the fuck? This is no dream! Margy woke and realized this wasn't her dream, it was happening for real. Immediately, her body stiffened involuntarily.

Realizing his mother was awake, Jack panicked. He lurched forward to cover her mouth and stifle a scream, but in so doing, he drove his penis deep inside her. Margy gripped the hand that now covered her mouth, her eyes darting around to understand what was happening. It took only seconds to understand that her assailant, the man fucking her, was her own son! Jack kept his hand closed over her mouth, whispering, "Shhhhhhh, it's ok," over and over, while continuing to rock back and forth into her. She loosened her grip on Jack's wrist and he slid his hand back to her breast,squeezing her nipple as he continued to slide back and forth inside her.

Jack and Margy stared at each other as they continued to fuck. He withdrew almost completely and slid back in deep. Margy was tight from her lengthy dry spell and her muscles gripped tightly on Jack's shaft as he continued to move into her. Still limber, Margy lifted her legs and rolled onto her back while Jack remained inside her. Now, with both feet planted firmly on the floor, Jack pulled Margy to the edge of the bed, her ankles resting on his shoulders. He grabbed both her breasts with his hands and began to fuck her harder, deeper. Margy pulled her knees up, allowing Jack deeper inside her.

Jack slid his hands from Margy's breasts and gripped her hips as he continued to pump his cock into her. Unknowingly, Jack slid his hand across Margy's lower belly, his thumb running over the small C-section scar from the last time Jack was this far inside her. Their gaze remained unbroken as Jack quickened his pace. His balls, which had been bouncing freely, pulled up close and tight. He fucked her as hard as he could. Margy put her arms across her tits to prevent them from bouncing violently, painfully.

Jack could feel his climax coming, reaching the point where he could not stop it any longer. He thrust into Margy hard three more times and then held still. Margy could feel his penis twitch and spurt as he came deep inside her.

Although still hard, Jack began to withdraw, but Margy clamped her legs around his back,holding him inside. "No way! I am too fucking close to stop now!" she thought to herself. She grabbed his hand, placing his thumb over her clit and began to grind hard against Jack. He stood in stunned silence, not moving as his mother fucked herself against his hard cock. Margy gyrated, grinding against Jack, moaning and grunting. Years of sexual frustration and neglect gave way to pure animal lust. Margy bucked hard against Jack,her legs trembling as her own orgasm built from deep inside. Lost in the moment, Margy bore down hard, feeling everything tighten as she came harder and stronger than she had in her entire life.

Panting and sweating, Margy kept a tight grip on Jack holding him inside her as she allowed the aftershocks of her orgasm dissipate. Even as she relaxed,her legs remained clamped around him. Margy took his face in her hands and pulled Jack close. She spoke calmly, "This will never be discussed and will never be repeated." She released the grip of her legs from around Jack's back, allowing him to withdraw completely. She lay still on the bed, knees up with her son's semen oozing from deep inside her, while Jack grabbed his clothes from the floor and left her alone in the quiet of her room, the only sound being her still-heavy breathing.

True to her word, Margy never mentioned another word of what happened to Jack or anyone else. They went back to their lives, never discussing or reliving what happened that night.