Pivotal Points

Maggie turned to the rest of the group and said she wouldn't need them any further tonight. Some stayed on and rehearsed their lines over in the corner but most packed up and left. Somebody made us all a coffee as Maggie expanded on how she saw the rest of the scene developing and it was a totally new departure. Were we happy making the scene very erotic with lots of close contact? She asked. Rob looked at me and nodded so I told Maggie we could do it.

When we had finished our coffee Maggie told us to start from the bedroom door and we'd run through right to the end. But of course it wasn't that easy. The convoluted plot had various members of the cast knocking on the door at critical points in the seduction to give Cynthia news of the outrageous happenings around the swimming pool -- happenings that Cynthia had deliberately set up. Maggie supplied all the interruptions but she wanted increasingly frustrated emotion from Cynthia as she had to pop her head round the bedroom door to answer them.

We worked on and on into the night until we finally ran through the full scene to Maggie's satisfaction. The whole scene had been transformed from a comic caper into a steamy, almost pornographic, seduction which made the contrast of the ridiculous interruptions even more hilarious.

Maggie called it a day and gave us a lift back to our place. She wanted to get home so she refused my offer of tea or coffee but I made a cuppa for me and Rob and we sat dunking biscuits and talking through that last scene. I complimented him on his restraint this evening. He hadn't done anything more than Maggie told him and hadn't tried to take any advantage.

"No problem, Mum. It's not Cynthia I fancy." He stood up, bent and kissed me on the lips, but chastely. "It's you!" Then he went to his room leaving me staring into my empty teacup. But I couldn't discern my future in the dregs.

The next night Maggie had us do that final scene again with the rest of the cast knocking on that door. The others had seen just the start of the scene from last night and there were several gasps from them as each erotic move was introduced and laughed at the high camp of the interruptions. When Tony and Cynthia pulled the bedclothes over their heads, the whole cast burst into spontaneous applause -- but it wasn't for us, it was for Maggie's skill as the director and she bowed in appreciation.

The week passed quickly and advanced ticket sales seemed to be better than usual. Maybe that's because we all decided we didn't want kids in the audience because of that last scene. So the tickets and posters advertised 'Adults only'. Opening night went off with few hitches and the local paper printed a brilliant review next day.

The critic wrote, "... intrigued when I saw 'Adults only' emblazoned across the posters at the door. Pilkerton's seminal bedroom farce is more farce and less bedroom ... playing Tony Ladbrooke, was a bundle of energy whose pranks had me wiping tears from my eyes ... Cynthia Smythe's convoluted scheming was convincingly portrayed ... well choreographed moves kept disaster just at bay ... playing Rodney Smythe, was a little out on his timing but the rest of the cast ... Maggie Forsythe's unique interpretation will raise many an eyebrow in literary circles ... it shouldn't have worked, but it did ... unusual casting of a mother and her son ... a delectable huntress trapping her frightened prey ... raw passion which even the offstage pandemonium couldn't quench ... truly an 'Adults only' night to remember."

For the rest of the week we played to standing room only and after the final performance we had a party on the stage to celebrate. By the end of the night we'd all had a few drinks, me to the tune of four large glasses of wine but I think Rob nursed just the one can of beer all night. He's not a big drinker.

We sat together most of the time, I think we were both too tired to mix very much but we kept our ends up in the main conversations. At one stage Rob turned away to talk to one of the minor characters in the play and I became lost in my own thoughts. I was feeling a little sad. This was Rob's last play here and soon he would be leaving home and going to the big city. I would miss him, the house will be empty after the way he uses up space.

I would miss working with him at PADS, he's very good. Never misses a cue and quick to rescue his partner's slips. I would miss his characters from village bobby to chinless wonder to shy virgin. Yes, I thought, I'll miss this play, I've enjoyed it, even having Tony feeling Cynthia's breasts. No, he, my son Rob, was feeling my breasts, I couldn't keep hiding from it. And I liked it, so there, I thought to myself petulantly.

A delicious shiver ran through me. Yes, I enjoyed him touching my body, my breasts. But it had been Tony who was touching me and I had detected no signs of arousal in Rob. Come to think of it I don't know how he controlled himself when I was now all of a quiver. What if -- my thoughts seemed to be shying away from the question but it kinda slipped in sideways anyhow -- what if it were Rob, not Tony?

It was out. I had named the unspeakable and I knew I was at one of those pivotal points in life. What if it were Rob? This thought kept turning over and over in my mind. What if ... what if ...

"Taxi's on the way, Mum." Rob broke my chain of thoughts.

"What? Oh, yeah." I was a bit groggy both from the wine and that semi-trance I had been in. "Help me up."

"You OK, Mum?" he asked as he pulled.

"Sure. Give me a minute to gather my head. Let's get our things together."

We had just about finished our farewell tour of hugs, air kisses and goodbye darling's when the taxi driver hooted outside. We didn't have much to say on the short ride home and I was alone with my thoughts again. What if ...?

I paid the driver off and we went inside. "Have we anything to drink?" I asked.

"We've got a couple of beers or some vodka," he called back, peering into the fridge.

"Pour me a vodka and orange please, son."

"Coming up." He returned with identical glasses for each of us.

I finished mine in two gulps, thrust the glass at Rob and said, "Do me another, please. I've got to pop upstairs for a few minutes."

I still hadn't quite made my mind up as I closed the bathroom door. What if ...?

It was as I relieved my bladder that I came to the decision. What if ...? OK, let's see what if ... what if it were Rob feeling my body. I cleaned myself up, went to my bedroom and put on my costume for the final act of "Cynthia's Secrets" and took a deep breath.

I opened the bedroom door and called out, "Be a dear and bring our drink up here." A few seconds later he was in my bedroom. I closed the door and stood with my back to it. I held out my hand for the drink and took a big gulp then told him to put the glasses on my bedside table.

When he had done that he turned to look at me dressed as Cynthia. "Can we do that last scene one more time, please?" I asked. I didn't know if it was Rob or Tony who looked back at me nervously.

I stood tall, with my legs slightly apart aggressively. Thrusting my hips forward I said my lines, "Thank you so much Rob. You've been very sweet."

"You're welcome, Mrs Smythe. Anytime. But my name's Tony." The shy young man in front of me seemed to wilt in my gaze as I advanced towards him slowly, deliberately opening the four buttons on my blouse.

"How can I thank you?" I allowed the blouse to float off my shoulders and down my arms, catching it in one hand just before it fell away. I smiled at him thinly. "I'll just have to find some way." I stepped up close to my trophy and looped the blouse round his neck, catching the loose end.

"I er think er I should go now Mrs Smythe," he stuttered as I pulled his reluctant body forward a couple of steps.

"Please, call me Mum. I mean we're friends now, Rob. You can hold me, darling." I made it sound almost like an order. I pulled him closer then held him almost at arms length as I pushed my bosom out towards him.

"Are we friends Mrs er Mum?" He put one hand on my upper arm and the other on my hip. "Truly friends?"

Then I felt his hand jerkily start moving upwards. I held my breath for a moment and breathed my line, "I admit I haven't always been nice to you, but now we're friends Rob. Let me make it up."

His hand covered my breast and manipulated it lovingly, not like Tony's immature groping. I then knew that it was my son -- and we both knew where we were heading. But to get back to the play ...

I let go of one end of my blouse and dragged it slowly from his neck. Taking his wrist between my thumb and fingertips, I moved his hand from my breast, holding it away from me almost in disdain as I stepped back. "Slowly, Rob. First I need to tell you why I've seemed cruel."

"Er, what ...? He looked perplexed, unsure.

Dropping his hand, I stepped back a pace and stood in my original pose, my bosom heaving. "I have to confess it was I who put Mr Johnson's horse brasses in your cricket bag." I ran my hands over my body, squeezing my breasts then continuing down to caress my bottom as I turned slightly to let him see the action.

"That was you, Mrs, Mum?"

"Yes, but I knew you could easily prove your alibi so I knew you wouldn't get into too much trouble." I advanced again, pushing my body into his and forcing him back until his knees were against the bed. "I needed the diversion, to have Mr Johnson out of the way." A thrust of my bosom caught him off balance, making him sit on the bed. Hitching my skirt up, I sat astride his legs and slowly began opening the buttons down his summer shirt.

"You did look so funny when you went down in that cow pat." I ran my hands over his bare chest. "But I'm sorry I laughed at you." I was slipping his shirt off his shoulders when, just on cue, Rob rapped his knuckles against the bed frame -- this was the way we simulated the knocks on the door in rehearsal, the knocks which brought all those comic interludes.

I stood up, feeling frustrated, as I walked to the door, opened it and stuck my head. I didn't bother with the conversation, closed the door again and turned to see Rob with hands in his lap hiding an erection, with his arms still hampered by the shirt just as Maggie had instructed, and ready for the next part.

"M,Mum," he stuttered -- and I was glad he hadn't used C,Cynthia -- "I do believe you distracted me so I would slip on it."

I sat next to him and, as I untangled his arms from his shirt I noticed that the erection was real. He wore a very tight fitting swimming costume under his shorts 'just in case' but the bulge was noticeable close up, and I was pleased because he had always been so under control on stage.

"Now why would I have done that?" I turned his head to kiss him. Instead of the usual seemingly active but very chaste kiss, I thrust my tongue through his unresisting lips and put my passion into it.

Knock, knock. I had to stifle a groan as I smiled sweetly at him. "Don't go away, I'll be back in a minute." I repeated my mute performance at the door and now he still had hands in his lap but was squirming in his seat.

I returned to him but sat at arm's length from him and he looked at me with desire in his eyes. Maggie had told us this was where Cynthia would be 'backed off' and aloof, untouchable. I sat there arranging and smoothing my skirt as I delivered one of Cynthia's funniest speeches, interspersed with my giggles. It was the rambling monologue of her side of the prank she had earlier played on the Dean.

"I don't think the Dean was laughing, Mum."

"Oh, you silly boy," I gushed. I leaned over and very slowly walked my fingers from his knee, up his thigh in the direction of his groin. "That was the whole point, Rob. The Dean has had it coming for years. He has been perfectly beastly to me. Come on, Rob. You can be nice to me, can't you?" My fingers were just about to move onto his very private area when ...

Knock, knock. Jeez, I knew the frustration Cynthia must have felt, had the play been real. I stood and turned to answer it. I finished my 'business' at the door and returned to him. I now stood astride his legs, my thighs clamping his together. I pulled his head into my bosom and kept his nose in my cleavage.

"I do hope, Mum, you'll never take after me like you did after the Dean" His voice was somewhat muffled by my flesh.

"Oh no, my dear Rob. I have much better plans for you." I pulled him to his feet and running my hands down his bare chest, I sank to my knees in front of him. "Much better!" I was drooling as I said that to his crotch. I put my hands on the waistband of his slacks, moving towards the buttons when he pushed me away and stepped sideways, away from me, hiding his crotch as though too embarrassed to let me see. I clutched at him as he retreated but only managed to grab a handful of material which didn't hinder him. I lunged again, now determined to have him, but again he danced away.

This was the beginning of our hectic pursuit around the bedroom. At first it was me chasing him all round and over the bed, he lost both his sandals to my despairing snatches and still I couldn't catch him. Until we found ourselves on opposite sides of the bed.

We stared at each other, panting from our exertions and passion, my bosom heaving, almost threatening to burst forth from its confines. Suddenly the look in his eyes changed. He snarled at me, baring his teeth then dived across the bed but I just managed to escape. Then it was me being chased in the course of which he ripped my skirt off -- one of those props garments that parts with a good tug.

Again we faced each other but now it was I who hid my crotch behind my hands, glad this time for Maggie's instructions because I'm sure there was a dark wet patch down there. I'm sure his erection must have be painful, strapped down as it was

I started the next lunge and managed to grab the waist of his slacks. "Got you this time, young Mister Rob. Now we'll see what you're made of."

His playful struggles became more feeble and I was able to get his slacks in a pile round his feet and was licking my lips at the crotch of his red silk boxers ...

Knock, knock. "Oh, no." My exasperation was unfeigned. How could he do this to me, although we hadn't deviated from Maggie's directions and I should have known it was coming. I answered the door knowing it was the final interruption when all my grand scheming would come together. The off-stage conversation had me jumping up and down and wriggling with excitement so my generous bum jigged about a lot. I knew Rob would be ogling it

I closed the door with a look of triumph on my face. "That despicable tradesman: did he think he could insult me with impunity? He's ruined and now his estate will be mine." Clapping my hands together softly, I raised my eyes in the general direction of heaven. "Perfect," I exulted. "What a simply perfect day, don't you know, Rob. And the final prize is best of all."

I advanced and held him close. Our kiss was real and full of passion. As we slipped under the bedclothes Rob groaned, "Oh Mum," and placed his hand on my breast, squeezing passionately.

"Yes Rob. Yes." My hand went down to his groin, seeking the bulge pressing into my thigh. We didn't come out for the curtain calls.

But here we met a further frustrating distraction: we hadn't realised just how constraining our underwear was. From the frantic scrabbling at my breast I knew he wanted to hold the real flesh, not hindered by the armour plating of my foundation garment and I was equally frustrated by his swim costume. "Let's get undressed," I whispered, kissing him desperately."

Flinging the sheets aside we jumped out of bed. He started taking off his boxers but I told him to wait. Although my fingers were trembling with anticipation I somehow managed all those tiny hooks in record time, feeling my breasts and tummy sag a little as the constraints were released. I stepped out of the offending garment and got to my knees to release my son, the aromas from my sex pervaded the air around us.

Now I was frantic to see what he had been hiding and hurriedly pulled his shorts down to reveal the white swimming trunks. I found the cords around his hips -- thank god he tied it in a bow -- and pulled them open. His cock had been forced back between his legs and now, released from its prison, it came up like a spring and bounced about my face, leaving streaks of his sticky fluids trailing across my cheek and lips.

As I pulled his shorts and trunks off his feet he groaned in relief and started scratching and stretching his scrotum. I took hold of his bobbing tool in both hands, the clean, spicy smell was in my nostrils as my pursed lips kissed the tip and my tongue snaked out to taste his nectar. I took the head slowly into my mouth, my tongue exploring under the foreskin.

"Stop, Mum. I'm coming!" he moaned in anguish but I slid my lips down until I felt his tool filling my mouth. I sucked it in and out, flicking the end with my tongue and was rewarded with a jerk of his hips and my mouth being filled with spurt after spurt of his seed. I swallowed as fast as I could, aware that dribbles were escaping down my chin. I sucked and squeezed him dry, savouring the salty tang on my palate.

When there was no more to be extracted and the flesh between my lips started softening I stood and kissed him, realising as our lips met that he would taste himself in my mouth. His tongue snaked in, paused briefly then resumed its tag match with my own. We broke the kiss and he cautiously lapped up the remnants of his sperm from my chin. He licked his lips and kissed me again.

I guided us both to the bed and pulled him down beside me. His hand went straight to my neglected breasts, seeking the rigid, aching nipples which he squeezed and pulled roughly, sparking electric jolts all the way to my pussy. His mouth descended on one nipple, sucking powerfully, his hands continuing to maul my tits mercilessly as my hand pressed his head hard into the yielding flesh.

Oh, I needed something, anything, in my lonely cunt, thrilling at the thought of that crude word. Running my hand over his chest and abdomen and on down, I was pleased to find him once again hard in his manhood. I pulled one hand from my breast and guided it to my humid pussy, gasping as a finger penetrated me. He continued exploring my secret regions, making me jerk each time his hand brushed over my tingling clitoris. A second finger joined the first, twisting and turning inside me, occasionally stimulating my sensitive spot, causing me to hump against his hand.

His mouth left off chewing my nipple as he kissed his way wetly down the underside of my breast and on across my rib cage. My fingers replaced his mouth on my nipple and took over the exquisite torture, my body shivered as he laid a warm, wet trail to my navel, his tongue probing there deeply. He moved his body, leaving my breasts to my own manipulations as he spread my thighs wide and knelt between them.

Twining his fingers through my dense pubic curls he gently tugged each hand to one side as he used his thumbs to part my slick lips then move up to trap my hypersensitive nodule between them. I felt his warm breath cooling the juices leaking copiously between my legs and whimpered as his tongue licked right up the gap between my engorged labia, gently probing and penetrating until at last his mouth settled over my clitoris.

Abandoning my tits, my hands moved to the back of his head. I pulled it hard into my groin, feeling his teeth grating over my clitoris. I clamped my thighs around his head and just held him in place as I gyrated to my own rhythm, feeling the volcano building inside me. "Oh, oh, oh," I panted, wanting release. His marvellous tongue was flicking over my clitoris, further fuelling the fires inside me and when he bit down on my clitoris I just exploded. Wet warmth flooded my pussy as I screamed, "YESYESYESYESYES!!!" and continued to fuck his trapped head selfishly as I thrashed about until I could take no more.