The Jumping-Off Point

Noah broke off his contemplation. "How?"

Allen's birthday party. It was several days after his actual birthday. All four members of the Koleman family as well as some of Allen's friends were enjoying a light get-together.

The moment the final guest left and the party was officially over, Daryl hit Claire with that familiar, eager, hopeful expression. And who could blame him? It was his first night back home since January.

For the first time in too long, Claire sent a vague text to her son's phone: "Shed at 11?" The moment she pressed send, a proud smile split her cheeks. After all, it was already 10:52 pm.

After kissing her husband goodnight, Claire visited her youngest son in his room. They engaged in another one of their classic conversations, where she asked a million questions and he answered every one with fewer than five words. Eventually, she hugged him goodnight and told him he was glad he enjoyed his party. Then, she went outside to meet Daryl.

Claire was running late. But she knew Daryl wouldn't mind.

As she shut the shed door behind her, a thrilling buzz consumed her insides and brain. After so long, she was alone with her son. They were sealed off together in their own room. And they were about to fuck. Her hips tantalizingly oscillated, like a stalking lioness about to pounce on her prey.

But her mind was being preyed on by a lingering thought. Several days ago, she had finally allowed herself to question it openly: Am I going to start doing this with Allen?

The question evaporated from her mind the moment Daryl moved toward her and grabbed her hips. It turned out he was more impatient than she was. The mother and son friskily kissed with their tongues and moaned sensually at their reunion.

They tugged and yanked at each other's clothes, trying to strip them from their bodies. Daryl stopped and stared in awe when Claire stepped back to take off her pants. A matching black-lace bra and thong cradled her elegant features.

The lingerie set wasn't bewildering, but it was far sexier and far more intentional than anything Claire had worn for her son before. It was a "welcome home" celebration. When Daryl asked her if she wore it for him to see, Claire simply said that she had been wearing it since before she picked him up at school.

The mother and son found each other again. They took turns touching, kissing, licking, smacking, sucking, and rubbing each other's bodies, reacquainting themselves and trying to build the pleasure for as long as possible. But they both needed to fuck.

Upon seeing his erection and the eagerness in his eyes, Claire teased Daryl over how he needed to teach the girls at school to take better care of him. "It's your job to show them how to take care of you. You can't keep crawling back home to your mommy."

Daryl got on his knees behind Claire and pressed the tip of his cock inside her pussy lips. They moaned together while he slid all the way inside. "Uhhh. It's not all my fault, haha! I do tell them. I don't know what you do, but your pussy is, like, sooo much better."

Out of view of her son, Claire beamed with pride. Deep down, she loved to know that was true. Then she happily proved his compliment by bucking lasciviously around his sexy dick.

The closeness, the intimacy, the fun, and the bonding were everything she had missed dearly over the previous weeks.

When Daryl finally blew his load, Claire asked him to stay inside of her. She rubbed her pussy with her fingers, feeling his semen flow inside her as she orgasmed for a second time. They kissed one more time before collapsing against each other in sweaty nakedness. At last, they were both dazed, drained, and satisfied.

Their well-practiced routine usually ended with Claire getting dressed as soon as possible. Pillow talk and cuddling seemed like romantic activities, and she never wanted to risk her son getting the wrong idea. Fucking Daryl was about being a closer mother, having fun, getting off, and enjoying a carnal taboo she couldn't get anywhere else. Romantic love was supplied in excess by Noah.

On the night in question, however, Claire lay naked with Daryl a while longer. She let her 38Bs and heart-shaped booty sprawl out in the musty air. Her mind was clearing, and the lingering thought had returned.

"Do you think Allen has ever thought of me like this?"

Daryl's eyes flashed open in a way that made it clear he had expected the question at some point—but not then. He had no answer, though. No idea. Claire then asked him if Allen would ever admit to it or talk to him about it if he were to ask. Daryl said no, Allen would never open up about it in any way.

After thinking in the dark, Claire asked another question that cut through the air. "Do you think there's a way you could find out?"

Daryl lay in silence for minutes. Claire let him think. "I think so. I think there's a few ways I can try."

Claire saw his confidence. She was excited, but also anxious. What if he's not into me? ...What if he IS?

She broke from her thoughts to realize her son's erection was warmly nestled into the side of her thigh. She had been mindlessly petting it with her fingers for who knows how long. Her pussy was wet.

They looked each other in the eye. It turned out neither of them had been quite drained yet. Good.

Three nights later, Claire walked into the shed and was presented with a glowing screen. She took Daryl's phone and saw the picture of a laptop screen. The white, black, and pale-blue website was instantly recognizable. Why's he showing me this? She took her son's phone and pinched out to zoom. In the low-lit shed, her eyes went wide. "This is HIS?!"

"Yep," Daryl nodded. He was anxious.

"I can't believe he showed this to you. How did you get him to let you see it?"

"Uhhh..."

"Oh, Daryl, you didn't!"

"You told me to find out somehow. This was the only way!" Daryl told the tale of how he had put his brother's finger on the Touch ID of his laptop while he was sleeping, unlocking it. From there, he checked his website history for porn, found the erotica website, and his login info was already saved on his browser. Unethical, sure, but not difficult.

"When I asked you to find out 'somehow', I thought you were gonna put a couple beers in him, not invade his privacy!"

Claire was angry, but mainly at herself. She was a hypocrite. In her eagerness, she never bothered to tell her son where the limit was. You didn't give him any ground rules. You told him to find a way, and he did. This is your fault.

What made Claire further ashamed was that she was undeniably happy that Daryl had found what he did. She had to punish him, though. And herself. He had snooped on his little brother, and she let him. "Send me that picture then delete it from your phone. I'm gonna go back inside."

"But-"

"I'm not in the mood tonight anymore." Claire maturely walked away. Though, with the three times they had fucked or performed oral on each other during the day, and the multitude of times Claire knew she was going to let him do it the next, it's hard to say how much of a punishment it really was.

Back inside the living room, Claire analyzed the screenshot again with a fluttering heart. She knew that screen well—so did Noah. So did countless other horny people from around the world. Allen had saved four stories. And what Claire saw from all of the titles and descriptions, every single one was a mom-son incest story. She couldn't close her mouth.

When Claire finished her summary, minus the irrelevant sex details, Noah mulled in his chair. "Why didn't you tell me you were interested in starting things with Allen, too? I could've helped again. We could've talked about it."

"I know," Claire scolded herself. "I just- I wanted to be sure there was at least a chance before I brought it up to you. I didn't wanna start that conversation again and then be let down."

Noah held his hands over his graying head. He wasn't happy, but he was understanding. "So, you've been thinking about seducing Allen like how you did with Daryl?"

"Yeah." Claire sat down on the edge of their bed. Noah seemed to be loosening up, and hope trickled in. "I think I'm ready to do it again," she smiled cutely.

The light in her eyes read like a book. Noah knew she was set on what she wanted. And she was so excited and beautiful. "Someone's blushing..."

"No, I'm not," Claire lied and giggled from her husband's teasing.

"Alright, before we get ahead of ourselves, though, I think we need to make something clear: Daryl shouldn't be a part of this in any way. I think-"

"Oh, yes," Claire interrupted, waving her hands. "Trust me, I know. I wouldn't have even asked him the first time if I didn't feel I needed to. My relationship with Allen needs to be private and one-on-one, like with Daryl. I believe in that completely."

Noah nodded contentedly.

Claire's imagination drifted to a vision where she had a unique and personal relationship with each of her boys. One where they each would feel free to love and talk to her in their own needed way. And she would feel that same freedom with them. Two beautiful and original mom-son relationships.

"I remember how great you were with Daryl," Noah spoke fondly. "I remember how scared you were and how you never let it show. I couldn't believe how perfect of a mother you were."

The loving praise made Claire tear up. Her emotions were heightened, but she held steady. "Thank you," she gushed.

Her memory was triggered, and a tingle ran from the bottom of Claire's butt up through her spine. Her hips shifted slightly on the mattress. And, yeah, I remember how great I was with him, too.

Restlessness kept Claire awake. It had for night after night. Her cheerful and free-spirited nature was fading. Whenever Noah asked what was wrong, Claire told him she felt sadness over Daryl leaving home for the first time and that she'd get over it soon.

Week by week, the stress of her secret ate Claire alive and wreaked havoc on her mental health. The only way to end it was to get it off her chest, no matter the cost.

It happened in their bedroom, with them in nearly the identical places they sat now. Claire's arms and hands trembled in fear as she confessed to her husband about her unshakable urge, an instinct, to have sex with their oldest son. Every time she imagined being with Daryl, she felt like a sexy, stronger, more complete mother in a way she couldn't describe. And it was not simply a fantasy. She knew she wanted it.

Noah, of course, was stunned silent. All he could mutter was that he was going to take a walk. And he left the room and left Claire shaken to her core. She cried in the shower for almost an hour, filled with dread and paranoid that Noah may never come home.

But that wasn't his character. That wasn't who she married.

The sound of the shower door opening startled her. A naked Noah was soon holding her and smiling with her. "So, how are we going to do this?"

Claire had the longest, deepest sleep she could remember.

Over the following days, the husband and wife seriously discussed a potential mom-son relationship and how it should work. Ground rules and goals were established.

"I don't feel like I want it to be romantic at all. I don't feel that way about him. It's not about that. Like, I want him to grow up and find an amazing woman and get married. If anything, I guess this plays into that. I want him to grow up to be a great man. And I think this could be a great way for me to help him with that. I want it- My goal is for him to see this as kind of a fun and special way for us to bond that's not part of our regular 'around the house' relationship. I wanna feel as close to him as possible."

"And you wanna have hot, incest sex with him..."

"Uhh... haha! Yeah, I also like that part of it."

As for how Claire would actually seduce him? Coming up with a plan was challenging. But considering Claire and Noah had caught Daryl checking her out on several occasions, Claire wasn't exactly flying blind. She had a good idea of how to slowly and comfortably seduce him. After all, her goal wasn't simply to fuck him—It was to build an incredible sexual relationship over time. Oh, there's no need to rush.

On the day Daryl returned home for winter break, Claire announced at the community center that she would be taking a two-hour leave of absence every day for the next few weeks. She had to go visit her aunt, who was doing perfectly fine but needed help getting around.

Claire didn't know what Daryl planned on doing between the hours of 12 and 2PM on weekdays during his three-week break. But Claire knew what she'd be doing. It involved Noah and Allen being out of the house, a lame excuse for why she was home, and the family's heated outdoor pool on the back deck.

"Hey!" Claire called through the glass back door. When Daryl came outside, she told him she wanted to hear how school had been going. The next day, she did the same. On the third day, Claire suggested Daryl join her for a swim.

They bobbed, swayed, and chit chatted in the water. It was hilarious how little restraint Daryl had. His eyes never failed to glimpse at her long legs, exposed butt, cupped breasts, flat stomach, and covered pussy. Hehe! Yeah, the bikinis definitely work. Not to be the only one objectified, Claire found an excuse that day and the next to reference how much muscle Daryl had added to his shirtless physique.

By the fifth day of swimming, Claire was ready. She didn't know what her opportunity would look like. But she'd know it when she saw it. And her heart beat rapidly inside her chest. She sensed she was close.

After asking her son yet another question about his dating life, Daryl responded with a funny story of how he met a girl at a party and kissed her, only to be ghosted by her moments later.

There it was.

"Seriously?! That's rude, haha! Are you sure you didn't give her some gross, drunk kiss? If I were her, I would've hid too!"

"No! I swear, I didn't. I kissed her the same way I kissed all of my girlfriends."

"Maybe in college women have higher standards," Claire goaded.

"No, it- Trust me, it wasn't how I kissed her."

"I don't believe you, ha! Guys usually overestimate how good of kissers they are." Claire gulped, and her throat was dry. Then, somehow, in the perfectly nonchalant way, Claire managed to suggest, "Show me how you kissed her, then. I'll tell you if it's your fault or not."

His face was priceless. The nineteen-year-old couldn't have possibly heard his mom correctly. To be fair, Claire was shocked those words had left her mouth as well. But when Daryl stammered, Claire repeated, "C'mon, just show me. Don't be a coward. I'm not gonna tease you over it."

"You- umm. You want me to kiss you? Like I kissed her?"

"Yeah, why not?" Claire shrugged. She cocked her eyebrow, as if her son was the odd one for questioning it. "I'll tell you if you're doing anything wrong."

Their first kiss was the most awkward, unrefined, hesitant, electric, and exciting kiss of Claire's life. When it ended, she politely recommended he try again because of how nervous he seemed the first time. Daryl complied.

After a better second kiss, Claire offered advice on how he could reposition his lips to improve his form. "Try it again, but do it that way," she encouraged. Her upbeat, easy tone was the same one she used when teaching him how to cook pasta.

The mother and son kissed twice more before Claire decided they had gone far enough for the day. "You did much better at the end there."

"Uh, really?"

"Yeah. I should have the same work schedule next week. So, if you wanna try again on Monday, I can probably help you."

Claire then dried off and went straight to her room to masturbate. Her pussy gushed nectar in seconds. How the fuck am I gonna hold it together?

Like clockwork, Daryl wanted to swim with her again the following Monday. Claire coached him in more nuanced lip movements. Their practice kisses lasted longer. The next day, Claire asked her son if he knew how to kiss with tongue.

Their practice kisses lasted for half a minute, as their pink tongues ventured into each other's mouths. Claire playfully swirled her tongue around Daryl's, making it easier on him to massage hers as she had taught him.

Suddenly, Daryl pulled away. A dark cloud of fear cast over his eyes. "What if dad sees this? Or, like, found out about it somehow? He probably wouldn't like it, right?"

With a curious tilt of her head, Claire asked, "Why would he care?"

"It- Uh. Ummm. We're, like-" Daryl tried to explain, "If any of my other friends' moms were teaching them how to kiss like this, it would be weird. Like, their dads would find it weird and get angry."

"Believe me, I know," Claire lamented. Her nerves failed to slow her wit. "Definitely never tell anyone else about this. They'll think it's weird. Your dad and I aren't those types of people, though. Personally, I don't really see anything weird about a mom teaching her son something like this—even if other people do."

"Wait... So, dad KNOWS about this?!"

"I don't know what he knows or what he doesn't," Claire answered honestly. She had been giving Noah general updates, but he didn't care for details. "But, if it'll make you feel less weird, you can go tell him what we've been doing. I promise you, he won't care about me doing this with you."

As the days progressed, the kissing transformed into making out. Their bodies moved closer together to the point where Claire's firm, bikini-clad chest was pressed into her son's broad pecs. She taught him where to place his arms on her body, how their hips could touch, and she introduced him to all of the playful and cute ways she could kiss and roll her tongue.

The environment was always flirty, fun, and temporary. Their behavior in the pool lasted for a euphoric moment in time, and then it would pass, and life inside the house remained normal.

In Daryl's third and final week home, Claire pretended to just notice his erection brushing against her hip while they kissed. "Heh. Looks like someone's hard..."

Daryl turned to stone and his face was bright red below his dirty-blonde head. "I-"

"No, that's a good thing!" Claire spoke positively. "I've kinda been waiting for you to be comfortable with me and my body. I can help you much more when you're like this."

"Really? You think it's good? Like, you think it'll help us when we make out?" Daryl swallowed. "Wait, so, are you comfortable with my body?"

A drug-like high coursed through Claire's veins as she gently nudged her hip onto her son's erection over his swim trunks. "Yeah, of course, I am," she curled her lips. "And, yeah, it will help us a lot. Women like knowing when guys are excited and wanna have more fun. We like to have more fun, too. We know when guys get close like this they like to put their hands in new places, and—Yeah, it's just hotter and better."

Daryl's eyelids twitched like he was overloading. His breathing shortened, and his tall erection was snugly pressed by his mom's hip under water. "Like. Like, umm. Like, I can put my hands in what places?"

Claire smiled widely. "Well... I know you've been checkin' out my boobs and butt a lot, haha! So, uh, could be fun for you to start there?"

Walking her son through touching, fondling, and squeezing her bare butt cheeks and soft-cupped breasts was indescribable. His hands made her feel alive. She could only imagine how it felt for him inside. Seeing his reactions while lustfully handled her tits, trying so hard to do a great job—it was the sexiest sight.

The next pool day was short. They were wet, hard, and touching each other quickly. Claire needed more. How did she ask, exactly? She couldn't remember. All that matters is she ended up in Daryl's room with her top off. She watched him jerk his sexy off to her and let him play with her breasts while she flirted and encouraged him. Without even touching herself, Claire nearly orgasmed when her son fired ropes of jizz onto her tits.