Teasing Mom Ch. 2

I could see Jason squirm in his seat at the thought that his mom would be knickerless the next day.

'Will you be asking that old man to help you back again?' Jason enquired offhandedly.

I replied that it would be a heavier than normal load, so I would be very grateful for the old man's help.

'Cos, I've not got much on for the last hour of college,' my son began with a quiver in his voice, 'and I wondered whether you would prefer it if I came to help you out instead of the old guy?'

So there, he had asked, in a round about way admittedly, whether his mom would prefer to be fucked by him or the old man. I made my answer very clear.

'I'd be equally grateful to whoever carried my washing home. But I'd much rather it was you.' I replied whilst crossing my legs a la Sharon Stone.

Jason said he would meet me at the laundry at three o'clock, then went quickly to his room for the rest of the night. I think I know why!

Next day, at two forty five, excited and ready, I set out to the laundry with a large bag of dirty clothes. The first person I noticed when I entered was the old tramp. He was about to come over and, no doubt, proposition me, when Jason appeared in the door. The look of disappointment on the vagrant's face was obvious. He wouldn't be getting me today. My son, on the other hand, would. But the game we were playing of sexual chess was almost better than the conclusion that would follow. I knew that it would never be as exciting as this again, and made a conscious effort to enjoy and remember every move made.

After putting coins in the washing machine, I took a seat next to Jason. I saw the look of curiosity on his face as he looked at me, and took the opportunity to tease him some more.

'I guess you're wondering why the raincoat on such a sunny day.' I asked

rhetorically.

'Well, you remember last night, how I said I was running out of clean clothes and underwear? Well, when I looked in my wardrobe this morning, I realised things were worse than I thought. I didn't have a stitch to put on. So, apart from my white high heels, under this raincoat, all your mom is wearing is a one piece lilac, silk and lace basque. Terrible isn't it?'

Jason swallowed hard as he took in what I had just told him. I let the raincoat fall open to reveal a creamy bare thigh. As he looked down, I mentioned that I was very hot and uncomfortable wearing the coat, and couldn't wait to get back home and take it off.

Forty five minutes later, two steps ahead of my son carrying the now cleaned and dried clothes, we were walking home. The only sound audible, was the sexy click-click of my high heels on the sidewalk. I opened the front door and allowed Jason to pass me. By the time I was closing the door behind me, my son had placed the bag of washing on the floor and was eagerly suggesting that he help me off with my raincoat. So keen was he in fact, that as he spun me round to face him, I nearly tumbled over on my heels. Whilst his hands quickly busied themselves undoing the belt around my waist and the three buttons that held the coat together, I remarked what a thoughtful son he was. As the sides fell open, I turned my back on Jason before he had a chance to see what I had on underneath, and asked him to help me off with the coat.

As my bare shoulders came into view, I turned my head so that I could see my son's reactions as the coat fell away from my body. Holding the lapels, Jason slowly pulled the raincoat away. I wanted this moment to last forever. For a boy to see his mom in a swimsuit on a beach is nothing much, but if he is watching her in their own house, alone, she in just a one piece set of sexy underwear, then that is something far different. Same woman, same amount of flesh on display. But the time and place change the whole perspective. As my son stared, open mouthed at his scantily clad mom from behind, he let the coat slip from his hands and onto the floor. The gusset of the basque was nothing more than a high cut thong. So I let him drool over my exposed ass cheeks and legs for a second or two before turning to face him. He visibly and audibly gasped as my half exposed breasts, like two ripe melons, came into his field of vision. I bent down to pick up the coat. As I did, I made sure I never lost eye contact with him. At my lowest point, I was just inches away from my son's groin. I could smell his sex. I teasingly licked my lips as I stood up slowly and handed him the coat to hang on the hook. I sauntered sexily passed him and sat on the end of the couch, crossed my legs, let my head loll back and closed my eyes, waiting.

Jason came into the living room and I could feel him standing close by me at the end of the couch. There was absolute silence. I was breathing heavily, and the swell of my bosom threatened to burst the seams of the flimsy, lilac basque I was wearing.

After about two minutes of this, I at last felt the soft touch of my son's fingers on my head. He began to run his hands through my short, blonde hair. I dreamily told him how good his touch was. This must have given Jason the encouragement he needed, for his hands then went to my naked shoulders and he started to massage them. I responded with soft cooos and ohhhhs. His young, yet strong hands moved slowly and cautiously down from my neck towards my heaving tits. Standing behind, and leaning over me, my son momentarily lost his nerve, and he moved his caressing to my soft arms. But at last, with a tremor in his voice, he suggested that I put my legs up on the couch and lay my head on the arm. I did as he requested and waited for his next move.

That came almost immediately. With my eyes still firmly closed, and my son standing behind me, I heard the sound of his pants' zipper coming down. Seconds later, I was aware that they had fallen down his legs, followed by the loud twanging of his shorts as he slipped them over his groin. Jason then shuffled around side of me. I slowly opened my eyes as my son came into view. He was naked from the waist down, as I had thought, and in his right hand he was toying with his smooth, hard cock. I said nothing as we made eye contact. But, obviously, in a position like this, saying nothing was the biggest encouragement I could give. I pouted my ruby lips as full as I could. Jason was not slow in taking the hint. Using his left hand to balance himself on the back of the couch, my son leaned over my head and brought his prick down to rub against my lips. He moved his hardness over them for a few seconds. Then I felt a slight increase in pressure and I realised he wanted in. His helmet was already wet with precum. I opened my mouth, invitingly. I flicked out my tongue as if to grasp Jason's dick. I kept my focus on his eyes as he entered his Mom's mouth and began to thrust his hips. My left cheek bulged grotesquely outwards from the pressure of his penis. His dick tasted clean compared to the last two I had recently gobbled, and I gorged upon it. Jason had only been in my mouth for about half a minute when, having begun to tickle the inside of his thighs with my long fingernails, I saw in his eyes the look of a boy who was about to shoot his load. Sure enough, with cries of 'Mom, Mom, I'm coming, I'm coming,' my son let his sack full of semen explode into my mouth. His legs quivered, and then his knees buckled so much that he had to hold onto the back of the couch with both hands to stop himself falling completely onto my face. I guzzled down his juices until I could swallow no more, and the excess trickled out of the corners of my mouth. It still tasted yucky as far as I was concerned, but it was the least a Mom could do for her only son.

Leaving Jason crouched on the floor by the couch, recovering his composure, I stood up and sauntered out to the kitchen announcing that I was going to prepare some dinner. Ten minutes later, standing at the sink washing some salad leaves, I turned my head and saw Jason standing in the doorway. I gave him a sexy, 'hope you liked the way I gave you head', kind of smile. Jason came and stood right behind me. I pretended not to care as he began to caress my ass cheeks. But when he bent his head to my naked shoulders and started to nuzzle me with his hot mouth, my head involuntarily tilted to one side so that he could get to my neck, and I kicked a leg back and rubbed my high heel along his inner thigh. In between bites, my son whispered:

'Mom, I want to fuck you.'

I tried desperately to keep my voice a calm, matter-of-fact, this happens every day, kind of tone as I replied:

'OK Honey, but I'm just getting some dinner for us. Do you want me before or after?'

I nearly fell over as Jason swivelled me around forcefully on the high heel I was balancing on, took hold of my shoulders roughly, and simply said:

'Both.'

He suddenly brought his face to mine, and before I knew it, my son and I were locked in a passionate embrace, our tongues mingling together in the others' mouth.

As our lips ground together, I tore Jason's shirt off leaving him completely naked. Meanwhile, his hands had undone the top part of the zipper, which held the basque tightly around my breasts. As my melons fell completely free of the sexy underwear, my son began to maul them with his strong hands. I took hold of his, ever hardening, cock with my left hand, and began to gently manipulate it. Soon, I had him hard as a rock. He may have ejaculated prematurely when I gave him the blow job, but I was certainly impressed by the speed of his recovery.

Unable to hold himself back any longer, and still fastened in a kissing embrace, Jason put his hands under my ass and lifted me onto the dining table in the kitchenette. The thin gusset of my basque was soaking wet as he popped the two press studs that kept the flap secure. With my pussy exposed, my son stuck in two of his fingers and rubbed at my clit for a while. I pulled my mouth away from his and gave a moan of passion before biting down hard on his shoulder. Jason winced slightly with the pain of my teeth on his flesh, and with the cruel downturn of mouth that all men have when they take a woman, he quickly and without warning, placed his knob in my slit and then rammed his manhood all the way up. I inhaled sharply as he filled me. My son's dick wasn't particularly big or fat, but the speed of his penetration had taken me by surprise. He pushed me back so that I lay flat on the table, my legs wrapped tightly around his waist, and began a series of long, slow strokes. They say that most orgasm are ninety percent mental. Well, with the thought of who I was being fucked by, and how wrong this all was, it was now my turn at a little premature ejaculation. My son had only been pounding away at my love box for about a minute, when I let out a loud scream of pent up desire, begging him not to stop, and felt the most fantastic waves of pleasure rushing from every nerve in my body and into my brain, simultaneously.

As I lay on the table, trying to recover my breathing, my son continued to slam his prick in and out of my enlarged pussy. After a few more minutes, I saw the look in his eyes that told me he was about to come. Once again, as his own climax approached, he called out, 'Mom, Mom.'

I encouraged him with my own reply of:

'OOOOOoooo, Honey, you're making your Mom feel so good. You feel so hard inside me. OOOOOOoooo, Baby, fuck your naughty Mom deeper. Faster.'

That did it. With his hands massaging my tits roughly, Jason howled as his semen spurted into my womb. He pumped himself completely dry before allowing his softening cock to slide out of me.

I stood up from the table, and wobbled for a second or two on my high heeled pumps. Jason leaned against the wall, hands on knees. Once again, pretending like this was no big deal, I continued the task of washing the salad as if nothing had happened. But we never did get around to eating that night. Within half an hour, my son had dragged me up to his room, lubed me up with nearly a whole bottle of baby oil, told me to bend over and touch my toes, and proceeded to fuck me up the ass. We slept together in his room that night. I use the term 'slept' incorrectly. Before morning came, Jason had made love to me a further five times. I was amazed at his energy. As I watched him get ready for school, thankful that I would be able to get some sleep at last, I casually mentioned that he wouldn't be needing the hole in the wall anymore.

My son turned to me and gave me a sinister smile. He said he liked watching me having sex with other men. In fact, the more degrading the sex, the better he liked it. He said he had a few ideas of his own of the kind of man he would like to see using his Mom. As he left the house, I wondered if I would ever sleep peacefully again.