No One Will Know Ch. 02

I awoke with a start and looked around the room; it took me a few seconds to realize that I was in my son's room, in his bed and not my own. I stirred slightly and knew that I was alone in the bed. A heavy silence filled the room as my mind went over what had happened the night before in this very bed. I took in a sharp breath and my abdomen tightened as I vividly remembered that my son fucked me. Parts of it didn't seem real and yet, as my mind became clearer it was all very real.

With a soft groan I pulled the covers back and sat up on the edge of the bed for a moment. There was a handwritten note on the bedside table that simply said: Gone fishing be back later. I'd forgotten that my son told me that he and a couple of his best friends were going fishing early this morning. As I sat there idly looking at the note I couldn't help thinking that what had happened the night before was some sort of dream or wish.

At that moment I felt a small amount of fluid beginning to seep out of my vagina and onto the inside of my thigh and there was no doubt that what had happened was very real. I stood up on unsteady legs and walked to the bathroom and when I looked in the mirror I was surprised at how disheveled my hair was and there was no trace of my make-up left. I took a long hot shower, simply standing there letting the water run over my naked body, I thought about what had happened. Again, some of it didn't seem real but my tender pussy was proof that it wasn't just a dream.

As I stood in my bathroom toweling myself off, I looked at my reflection in the mirror and thought to myself, My body's not perfect, far from it, but honestly it looks good for a woman my age. As I rubbed the towel over my sensitive breasts and nipples I paused a moment. "These, like some other parts could be a little firmer and perkier I guess," I whispered to myself with a smile.

I left the bathroom without bothering to get dressed; I simply didn't feel like it...I wanted to be nude. I went to the kitchen and made myself a cup of coffee and stood at the sink, deep in thought, looking out at my lush garden. It was a bright, clear day outside and I took my coffee and I went out into my garden. As I meandered along the narrow stone pathway I admired the neatly trimmed flowers and plants. This part of the garden is protected by a stone wall that affords complete privacy and I often coming out here in the nude -- it's one of my secrets...one of the few benefits of living alone.

The sunshine was warm on my naked skin and I felt incredibly free. I sat down on the small stone bench in the shade near the garden fountain thinking about what had happened and what was to come. My ambivalence was very strong. My son is a grown man, a wonderful lover and the sex we'd had together was incredible yet no matter how I tried to turn it, he was still my son.

The soft sound of the water falling into the fountain was soothing and, strangely enough, it gave me the feeling that somehow everything was going to be okay. Not surprisingly, as I thought about what happened in my son's bed was making me even more aroused.

I'm not naïve. Naturally, after we'd broken down some barriers and had sex things changed in a big way. The one important part for me was the feeling of release. It was almost as if someone finally opened a heavy door that had been closed for a long, long time within me. I'd forgotten just how powerful it felt to have a man between my legs and feeling him filling every inch of my vagina as he fucked me and that same man using every ounce of his strength to give me pleasure.

I was surprised that I had hidden so many of my own desires such as the feelings of having a man's naked body on mine and feeling his hot breath on my neck and shoulders as he fucked me.

It was easier to think of my son as simply a strong young man who was making love to the woman in me. One of the things that stuck in my mind so tenaciously was the way that he would softly whisper in my ear telling me what he felt , describing what was happening in the most explicit way as he fucked me.

It was vulgar, it was erotic, it was full of passion and I loved it.

I hadn't realized how deeply erotic it is to hear his breathless whispers, his lips close to my ear, telling me what he's doing to me at every moment and how good and powerful I make him feel as my body, especially my vagina, responds to his deep and powerful thrusts into my body.

After we had sex that first time it was as if an emotional floodgate had opened in each of us for different reasons. I didn't realize how deeply we needed each other at the time. There were many brief moments when I forgot that he was my son. I admit that it was because I didn't want to face any of it at that moment. What was important was that I felt desired and young. At the same time I felt somewhat sad that I'd missed so much sex over the years. I couldn't remember a time in my life where I'd felt so free about sex and sharing pleasure with a man, and I think I wanted to try and bring back all that I'd missed over the years.

A gentle, warm breeze came up and softly ruffled the leaves on the grass near my feet. I took a sip of my coffee and watched a hummingbird hover near the top of the fountain before darting off across the garden. I was a little saddened that it took my son to unlock within me what his father never could.

Now, I wanted for us to explore sex together, to learn and especially to be unafraid to try new and different things together without any feelings of guilt or embarrassment. I knew that what we were sharing wouldn't last forever. I wanted my son to someday find a woman he loved, would be devoted to, and she would become the only lover he would ever need or desire in his lifetime.

And, when that day finally came, the sex and intimacy that he and I shared would then become a deeply held secret between us and what we shared would be a pleasant memory of a shared love just between a man and a woman who, in a short period in their lives, simply needed each other.

I stood up from the bench and stepped into the warm sunlight again. I paused a moment before reluctantly going back into the house. I needed to get dressed just in case my son might bring some of his friends home when he returned. I honestly hoped that he would come home alone. I put on a pair of tight fitting jeans, a loose fitting white cotton blouse, and my sandals. I didn't bother putting on my panties or bra. I went into my bathroom and put on a little make-up and brushed out my hair before I puttered around the house with little chores that kept me busy. Early in the afternoon I was sitting at my computer in my home office working on a short story when I heard the front door open and my son come in. Suddenly, and for no apparent reason I felt a wave of panic come over me and I sat unmoving in my chair I could feel my heart beating in my chest. I heard his footsteps coming down the hallway.

What if none of it actually happened, what if it wasn't real? Was the thought that flooded my mind. What if—"

"Hey, there you are," my son said as he came to the door.

"How was the fishing," I asked trying to sound normal.

"Pretty bad," he said with a laugh, "It was really just a good excuse for us guys to sit in a boat on the lake, drink beer and talk about women."

"I hope you didn't tell everything," I said with a weak laugh, immediately wishing I hadn't said it.

He looked at me with a smile as he said, "Not a chance...not that. How are you doing?"

I knew his question really meant how was I doing after what happened the night before. "I'm doing fine...absolutely fine," I answered honestly.

"Yeah, me too," he said with a warm smile. "I better get a shower...I really need it." He paused as he looked directly into my eyes and said, "Would you like to join me?" His words jolted me and my stomach tightened and a thrill went through my body and all I could do was nod. Our eyes held for a moment before he turned and went toward the bathroom. I heard him turn on the shower and I still hadn't moved from my chair. A minute or so later he appeared at the door and he was completely nude. His cock was hard and standing straight out from his body pulsing every few seconds as he looked at me. The dark pink head was almost completely emerged from the foreskin that surrounded it and I could see a pinpoint of light reflecting off of the precum that oozed from the tip of his beautiful penis.

"Water's ready if you are," he said with a smile.

"I'm ready," I mumbled softly.

I stood up and unbuttoned my jeans and slowly started to slip them down over my hips as he watched me. I hesitated for a brief moment before slowly exposing my hair-covered pussy to his gaze. His cock jerked with a normal spasm of anticipation as he let out a soft groan of desire. I let my jeans fall to my ankles and stepped out of them as I unbuttoned my blouse and dropped it to the floor behind me. He came toward me and put his arms around me and pulled me against his naked body as his lips found mine and we kissed deeply, our tongues gently dueling in passion. My body felt hyper-sensitive to his touch, I felt as if I was ready to have another orgasm from nothing more than just his touch on my bare skin. I heard myself moaning as we stood there holding each other.

"I could hardly wait until I could get off of that damn boat," he whispered as he kissed my neck. "All I could think about was getting back here as soon as possible. I kept worrying that you might have changed your mind or had second thoughts about what we did."

"I worried the same about you," I said.

We broke off our embrace and went into the bathroom where I stepped into the hot shower first and he followed behind me. His hard cock brushed across my ass as he closed the sliding shower door and it was all I could do to keep from dropping to my knees and taking his hard cock into my mouth.

He soaped my back and shoulders before bringing his hands around and spreading the white lather on my breasts. I felt as if my body was completely his to do with what he wanted. I turned to face him and we kissed as he trailed the lather down over my abdomen to my pussy and around to my ass; his movements were slow and highly erotic. Our bodies pressed and brushed each other's -- naked flesh against naked flesh. My heart was pounding with excitement and anticipation of what was to come.

"I'll do anything you want, my body is yours to enjoy," I said to him as he held his arms around me.

The last of the soap lather had rinsed off of our bodies as we still stood under the shower nozzle embraced in deep French kissing. My son was finger-fucking me with two fingers inserted into my vagina and his thumb lightly stroking my clitoris. I held his hard cock in my hand as I stroked it and was amazed at how hot it felt to my touch.

"Mother, are you ready to go into the bedroom and fuck?" He whispered in my ear.

The pure sensual vulgarity of his question turned me on even more and I wondered how he knew my secret? How he knew that I loved erotic, vulgar talk during sex? Then it dawned on me. If he'd actually hidden in my closet watching me as I masturbated, he would certainly know about my secret lust for erotic talk during sex! Yes, when I masturbated I fantasized about men fucking me and I used vulgar and erotic language to heighten the experience.

We stepped out of the shower and took turns drying each other off which, naturally leading to another bout of sensuous kissing; our tongues attacking each other's with erotic intensity as our bodies pressed tightly against each other's. It was a powerful level of passion that I hadn't felt in years and it intoxicated me with my own desire.

He took me by the hand and led me down the hall to my bedroom where he gently, but firmly, urged me onto my bed. As I lay on my back I pulled my thighs up toward my chest and spread them apart exposing my pussy to him in a lewd invitation to do with me as he wanted.

"Fuck me," I pleaded with a whisper. "Fuck me and fill me with your hard manhood!"

He got on the bed and knelt between my legs facing me. He hesitated as his gaze seemed to be locked on the sight of my exposed, wet cunt -- almost as if seeing it for the first time. His cock was only inches from the entrance of my vagina and I was impatient to feel it inside me. I slipped my hand down my belly and ran my fingers over my clitoris several times before I used two fingers to spread my cunt lips apart, exposing the very entrance of my womanhood to him.

"Fuck me," I pleaded again.

"Yes mother, I'm going to fuck you now," he said softly. "I'm going to slide my cock into your sweet pussy and fuck you as long and as hard as you want!"

The vulgar words out of his mouth electrified me as he leaned his body forward placing his arms on both sides of my shoulders. His face was only inches from mine when I felt his hard cock come in contact with my wet pussy lips causing me to cry out softly. I felt his hot breath on my neck as his cock pressed even harder on the lips at the entrance of my vagina. Suddenly my lips yielded, allowing his cock to rush into me and filling my sensitive vagina with his hard tool. He hesitated a moment and kissed me on the neck before he began fucking me with a steady rhythm of sexual pleasure and desire. All I could do was to whimper softly each time his cock filled me and there was no doubt that a powerful orgasm was building deep inside me.

"How many men have been in your beautiful cunt before me...fucking you like I'm fucking you now," he asked breathlessly.

His question sent a jolt of intense eroticism through my whole body.

"How many men have enjoyed fucking you?"

"I...I don't know...it's...it's been a long time," I stammered honestly.

"How many men before me have left they're cum deep inside your sweet cunt as they sucked on your tits?" He asked as he stroked his cock even deeper into my vagina.

I realized that he not only knew my secret passion of vulgar talk during sex but he loved it too!

"Lots of men have fucked me," I lied. "Fucked me in the same hole you're fucking me in right now," I groaned. "How many young girls have felt your cock inside their tight cunts," I managed to ask as he began fucking me harder. My words clearly aroused him and that even turned me on even more. His cock continued to thrust into me aggressively...and I wanted more.

"I've fucked a lot of girls with tight pussies but none of them had a beautiful cunt like yours." He said. He paused before adding, "There's so much I want to do with you, so many ways I want to have sex and fuck you!"

I was in total ecstasy and felt as if I had no control of my own body. I could feel my first orgasm on the verge of exploding inside me and I could neither slow it down or hold it back, it would do what it wanted...taking control when it was ready.

"You're such a good fuck mother," he panted as he kept fucking me. "Do you realize that I am fucking you at this very minute? Do you realize that your own son is fucking your pussy and is almost ready to cum deep inside you just like I did last night?"

"Yes," I cried out, "Fuck me! Fuck me harder than your father ever could!" That was all it took for my orgasm to slam inside me. I heard myself crying-out as my whole body tightened before jolting hard with the power of my orgasm. My son was fucking me with rapid strokes when suddenly I could tell by the look in his eyes that he was starting to cum.

"Fuck mother, fuck my cock!" Our bodies were slamming together as he uttered, "Yes, oh Fuck! Fuck! -- I'm cuming inside you! I'm -- NOW!" I felt his cock shudder as it began spewing his hot cum inside my body. He let out a loud groan as he kept pumping his ejaculate into the dark depths of my vagina. I moaned loudly and clutched the strong muscles of his back with my fingers as he emptied the contents of his balls into my tight hole. My pussy, in fact my whole body, continued to spasm lewdly with each stroke of his cock that went especially deeply inside me. Undoubtedly, this was the most intense fuck I'd ever had, even more intense than when we'd fucked the night before.

We began fucking slower until we stopped completely, our bodies satisfied for the moment. He was still lying on me as we kissed. His cock softened and slipped from the grasp of my vagina and he moved over and lay on the bed beside me. We lay facing each other. We spoke in soft tomes, fondled, touched, and caressed each other in the afterglow of intensely satisfying sex. I was curious about something and I wanted to ask him a question that had been in my mind since the first time he fucked me the night before.

"Where did you ever learn how to make love like that? Your father, or any other man, never made love to me like that. It's not something you learn from a book or the internet," I said.

"American Literature of the Nineteenth Century," he said with a soft chuckle.

"What?"

"Not what," he said. "Who."

My professor of American Literature of the Nineteenth Century taught me about making love to a woman. I'd had several girlfriends in college and they were, well, like me, young and ready but not very experienced. The professor was very different; she was a divorced, mature woman in her fifties and clearly the most sensuous and sexual woman I've ever met. Her name is Catherine Tanner and I saw her as often as I could -- several times a week. It wasn't uncommon that we'd spent an entire weekend in bed together. Almost nothing was considered off-limits to her as long as it pertained to sex. She taught me a lot about women and sex," he added.

"What happened?" I asked.

"After about a year she wanted someone new...younger I think," he laughed. "I still see her occasionally."

He leaned forward and began caressing my breast with his hand as he looked deeply into my eyes. His fingers lightly circled my areola causing my nipples to come erect; perfect for sucking on. His warm tongue stroked and teased my nipples sending a warm and erotic feeling through my whole body. Suddenly I felt his cock beginning to become erect and press against my belly and I knew we were going to fuck again.

I could feel myself slipping into a state of deep, all-consuming, sexual desire as he sucked my breast. But before that happened I struggled to keep a clear head and I managed to tell him that we needed to talk about some things -- important things about what we were doing. He stopped sucking on my nipples and looked up and into my eyes.

"There'll be plenty of time for that later," he said softly as his hand moved up between my thighs, stopping at my wet, freshly-fucked pussy. His fingers parted my pussy lips and found my clitoris and he began to softly stroke it. In response I lifted my upper leg and placed it over his hip giving him complete access to my body once again.

"Fuck me," I whispered. "We'll talk later...just fuck me!"