The Jumping-Off Point

Life became a whirlwind. Each of the next three days, Claire ended up in her son's room.

There, she touched his penis for the first time with her bare hand. She jerked him off fervently until she humorously arranged herself so he could finish on her butt.

There, she got naked for her son for the first time and reclined next to him in bed. She massaged and toyed with his handsome cock and balls while they teasingly French kissed.

There, after their final swim of winter break, Claire met him. He had followed her instructions and washed the chlorine from his body. In his bed, fully naked, Claire sucked his penis until he finished in her mouth.

The seduction was supposed to end there (for the time being). But Claire changed her plans. She concocted a way to meet Daryl in the middle of the night without anyone noticing.

She laid down a foam pool raft, a few towels, and invited her son into the shed. He only asked permission to touch her wet pussy—a sensation Claire had been dreaming of for weeks. Of course, his fingers were a magical sensation. It was so wrong, but Claire loved it. She gave her son his first lesson in eating her out.

Daryl was an avid learner, but the reason Claire came on his face had much more to do with how ferociously she ground into him while she held the back of his head. In a proper send-off, Claire then spent the next hazy minutes on her knees sucking and affectionately licking his dick in the way he would soon grow accustomed.

When Noah returned the next day after dropping Daryl back off at school, it melted Claire's heart to hear what was said in the car:

"Once I told him that I knew what you two were up to and that I was okay with it, he just started asking questions and going on about how great you are. He actually asked if I thought you two were ever going to go all the way, haha!"

"That's a bold question," Claire beamed. She had been glowing since her and Daryl's first kiss. "What did you say to him?"

"I told him I didn't know what might happen. I just said that he and I are allowed to have the relationship we want as a father and son, and you two are welcome to have the type of relationship you want as a mother and son. And if that meant having sex, then so bit it. I did say, 'If she does decide to have sex with you, then you must be pretty special.'"

Those memories still enchanted Claire. She could still feel the beauty in her seduction whenever she closed her eyes and recalled that winter month. I was so tempted to just bang him on Christmas, Claire snickered. Her mind certainly wasn't as dirty or promiscuous before Daryl, at least not on the surface.

Sliding into bed next to Noah, Claire was proud of how she built her amazing relationship with her son. Remember? We took it slow. Neither of us got confused or too scared. It was flirty, and sexy, and so fucking arousing.

But Allen... What about Allen? Her second son. He was the son who held the soft spot in her heart. He was the son who, despite her rare relationship with Daryl, always occupied her mind the most.

Claire envisioned asking Allen to swim with her. She imagined him kissing her when she asked him to show her. She imagined teaching him over time, him cozying up to her more and more each day, his erection brushing against her hip to test her interest.

Claire closed her eyes and slipped the bonds of reality.

Allen's muscles were shapely, and his build was sturdy. He wasn't an athlete like his older brother, but he did lift and work on heavy machinery at the airfield most weekends. When shirtless, beads of water trickled down his soft, taut skin.

Allen's carved face was symmetrical, handsome, and stoic. He existed with quiet confidence, like an enigma. But Claire was able to read him like nobody else could. And she knew the reverse was also true. Claire, you know you can drive him up the fucking wall! You just need to find a way to "unlock" him first.

Allen looked at her—read her—differently than anyone else. They shared a common language. Claire was an impassioned expert in using slight gestures in her lips, eyes, and eyebrows to flirt with, tease, and send the men in her life into a state of desperate euphoria. Allen was capable of doing the same to women. Claire realized, He's just as expressive as you are. He just needs to be taught.

Just think about it... him wading over to you in the pool for the first time. His shirt off. You're in a little bikini, basically naked. And you tell him exactly where to put his hands on your- Oh, fuck. Claire shot up in bed, breathing heavily. She shook the daydream from her head and sighed. "I can't seduce Allen like I did with Daryl."

"Nope," Noah said matter-of-factly and turned his lamp off. He had arrived at that conclusion months ago.

"He's too logical," Noah continued. "Horny boys are idiots. And the hornier they are, the dumber they are. Think about it, what kind of boy actually thinks he could get away with going into a pool with his mom and staring at her boobs? I'll tell you: A boy who's not thinking at all. What kind of boy actually thinks his mom's gonna want to have sex with him? A dumb one. When you think about it, Daryl's having sex with you because he's a horny idiot who got lucky."

Claire's laughter filled the dark room. It was funny because it was true.

"Unfortunately," Noah lamented, "our youngest son is smart."

"Ha! No! We should've raised him dumb."

"I know," Noah tisked. "We're failures as parents."

The husband and wife settled under the sheets, where Noah found his natural place spooning Claire.

*****

Days passed in the Koleman household. There wasn't much conversation, as Claire and Noah let their minds work. Seducing Allen required a new playbook, and neither knew what play to call.

Claire was less skeptical than her husband. And even if it was a lost cause, her inner voice urged her to test the waters—figuratively and literally. She started wearing more flattering dresses and makeup to the community center, so when she got home after a distracted day, she could make an impression on Allen as soon as she walked through the front door.

It worked. But not the way she hoped. Allen seemed to recognize her new aesthetic. There was a curiousness in his face, but no dreamy reaction. His blue eyes didn't flutter wide, his face didn't flush red, and his crotch didn't move. Claire would have been excited just to see his ears rise, which often happened when he was embarrassed or guilty.

After a futile week, Claire found herself standing in front of her bathroom mirror. "Nobody better ever say I don't go out on a limb for my kids." She checked herself over once more before walking toward the living room—which was conveniently on the way to the back deck.

Like a meerkat sensing a disturbance, Allen popped his head out from behind his tablet. Claire saw his eyes move up and down her body. He was curious, which she expected. It had to be her first time strutting through the house in a bikini.

Obviously, she was merely on her way to the pool. Though, Claire could have made that more obvious by remembering to bring a towel. Her bones were shaking, and she was paranoid that her son could see through her charade.

C'mon, just give me something. She asked him questions, told him gossip he may find interesting, and did her best to make the situation seem perfectly normal. Anything to give him time to soak in her presence. Maybe it would ignite him.

His answers are longer than usual... Or were they shorter than usual? Maybe they were the same and it was all in her head? Claire twisted around from her ankles to look at the news banner on the muted TV behind her. She looked back at Allen and- Shit!

There was no definitive proof, but Claire swore she caught his eyes flicking back up to her face at the last second. His skin looked paler. Maybe that's what he's into? I can see him being an "ass guy." Why not?!

That one whiff of evidence inspired Claire. Did it matter to her that Allen may have been doing what any other human being of any sexuality or preference would have done—looking at two exposed butt cheeks that spontaneously appeared in front of his face? No.

Claire found excuses to continually turn back to the TV. Never before had it been more important for Claire to share her views on a budget amendment stuck in a Congressional committee. Time after time, she peeked back to see Allen's eyes aimed at her butt and legs.

Meanwhile, a new fantasy took root in Claire's mind. Allen became entranced with her sea of bare skin and happy face in her cute, skimpy outfit. It finally clicked for him that she was no different than the moms in his favorite stories. He looked through her in a way he never had before. "Can I swim too, mom?" "Yeah, of course, you can!" His body looked amazing when wet. His uncertain hands slid onto her tummy. "There ya go. You wanna get close and hug me from behind." A grunt sounded in Claire's eardrum. She had accidentally brushed her butt against his erection. But that's always a risk when teaching your son how to kiss from behind.

Real life went differently. The news went to a commercial break, and Claire ran out of excuses. She walked through the sliding glass door alone, leaving her son inside to his devices. It wasn't her dream outcome, but she didn't fail. Merely taking a bold step made her relationship with Allen feel more alive and substantial. She felt closer to him. And something was different about him, in his eyes and in the color of his cheeks. None of this meant he wanted to have her, but Claire had a taste of what she longed for.

~~

"I need to be braver, you know? Kind of jump right into it." Claire vented.

"Honey, I know you want it, but we don't even have a plan yet."

"I know," she huffed. "I'm fine with going slow. I just hate not knowing where I'm going."

Every night before bed, Claire and Noah talked about their youngest son. But they hadn't made much headway. It wasn't as if Claire could just walk up and grab her son's dick. The sex needed to develop organically with their relationship. Otherwise, Allen would struggle to understand what she wanted with him.

Besides, Noah still had his reservations. A few evenings ago, he had to politely talk his wife out of openly telling Allen what she wanted and asking him if he wanted it too. Would she have actually done it? Doubtfully. Claire was frustrated, but not frustrated enough to risk mentally scarring her son.

Noah couldn't stress enough: There was no evidence. Did Allen check Claire out? No. But even if he did, men check out women all the time who they aren't seriously interested in. It's recreation. Was Allen into mom-son porn? Obviously. But stories are fantasies. Noah masturbated to dominatrix porn. Did he want Claire to dress in black leather and whip him? Hell, no.

Noah scratched his stubbly chin in bed. He could never stop supporting his loving wife. "Why don't you mention you found out about the stories he reads? Ask him about them?"

Claire paused.

"It's understandable why you'd bring it up to him. And he couldn't deny he's into the mom-son fantasy. Then, gauge his reaction from there."

Claire liked the idea, aside from the major flaw. "And how do you suppose I discovered his reading list? What do I tell him when he asks? You know he'll deny everything until I show him proof. I can't say I stumbled into a screenshot."

"What if you 'accidentally' saw his Favorites List up while bringing laundry to his room?"

"Yeah...?" Claire mocked her husband. "I accidentally opened his laptop and signed in with his password? Then went onto Literotica, logged into his account, and clicked on his list? All while bringing in clothes?"

The husband and wife stared at each other in silence. Then their bedroom erupted in muffled laughter. Their shoulders rubbed together under the pillowy comforter.

"Wait, I can redeem myself," Noah pledged. He brainstormed, and Claire was entertained by his intense focus. "Okay," he pointed. "What if we tell him we got an alert from Verizon about suspicious activity on our Internet. We've gotten those before. And you'll say the alert included some links to erotica stories. And his brother wasn't home, so..."

Claire had heard dumber ideas. But this one was still dumb. "Honey, I think you're forgetting... Our son is basically an IT department, and you need his help with HDMI cables. He's gonna realize it's bullsh- "

"Okay! No. No. No. I know very well how to use an HDMI cable. I just couldn't figure out why that one wasn't working that one time. And it was broken. Remember? Even Allen said so. I'm pretty good in the tech arena. I'm not some- "

"Shhh!" Claire shushed and punched her husband in the shoulder. Allen was sleeping in the same house.

"Oops. Anyway, I still think- "

"Nooo," Claire whispered firmly and finally. "I will never confront him with that list. This is supposed to be fun, not scary. It's one thing to 'test him' in a fun way; it's another thing to build a case against him and confront him like it's Law & Order. He deserves better."

"You're right," Noah sighed. He knew his ideas lately were crap. He had nothing. "You just... You need some sort of jumping-off point. You need something to make it clear that he's sexually attracted to you and that you're okay with it. Once you have that, then you're off the races. It'll be just like with Daryl."

"Yeah," Claire agreed wistfully. She folded her hands on her stomach and closed her eyes. "That's kinda what I was hoping for today. I wore a bikini in the house, but he didn't even budge."

"You what today?!" Noah jolted up and leaned over his wife. "You wore a bikini in the house for him?"

"Huh?" Claire was startled awake. Her husband's surprised grin made her laugh. "No, it's not like that! I was walking out to the pool. I just didn't put on any shorts or a top, so I could talk to him and see if it did anything."

"Which one?" Noah pressed.

"What do you mean?"

"Which bikini?"

Claire blushed and her narrow cheeks dimpled. "The white one I have. With the straps like this and the- "

"The one I begged you to buy for Hilton Head?! Where your entire butt's showing and it's just those two triangles covering...?"

Claire's laughter drowned out Noah's voice. She hysterically rolled under the sheets, hiding her embarrassed, red face in her hands.

"Jesus!" Noah exclaimed. "Are you serious?" He pried at Claire's wrists. "No, no, no!" He chuckled. "Answer me."

Claire resisted. Noah grabbed at her flailing limbs. She wrestled back, and he fell on top of her. Soon, they were moaning together with their pajama bottoms around their ankles.

*****

"Hey!"

"Hey." Allen sat up. He looked at the banging commotion of his mom forcing her way through the front door with her hands full of groceries.

"Didn't expect you home this early."

"Need help?" Allen jumped off the couch.

There was still another trip's worth of bags in the back of the car. "Yeah, thanks!" Claire smiled. In her high heels, she was an inch or two taller than him. "And can you help me put all this stuff away?"

With a nod of his fringe-up, black hair, Allen strolled outside. It was a small activity, but one they were doing together. Maybe he'll get more comfortable around me?

Claire shared other activities with her son—at least she did sometimes. Their most recent bonding activity was late last year when Allen played a strategy video game called StarCraft on the big TV in the living room while Claire sat on the couch next to him reading a book she knew he'd be interested in. Sometimes she'd ask him questions about his game, and he'd ask her questions about the book. That led to them conversing quite a bit.

"There's my strong boy," Claire doted when he entered the kitchen with his arms full.

Allen rolled his eyes and curled his lips. "You lifted them into the car."

Just take the compliment, you smartass. Claire could see he loved her attention, and it made her buzz inside.

As they stocked the fridge and pantry, Claire accentuated her reach with her bare arms and how she squatted down in her green dress to fill low shelves. She couldn't help it. Ever since last week when she wore her bikini in front of him, she had been dying to feel his eyes on her body again.

She still lacked a proper seduction plan, but Claire did have a new approach—a new angle—she had been wanting to try. Her compliments were drawing smiles, and she felt confident touching Allen's arms as she scooted around him in the kitchen. Do it, Claire. Why not?

"I just realized we're matching. Green with short sleeves."

Allen noticed he was in a green tee. "Oh. Yeah, it's nice out," he explained, looking at sunshine in the window. His voice was rich, with softness around the edges.

"It is..." Claire hung the canvas bags in the broom closet. "It's a nice day to do something outside."

"For sure."

Holy shit... Was she reading too much into it? Or was he going where she wanted him to be going? Claire brushed her hair behind her pierced ears to make sure there were no loose strands. "Oh, you're also thinkin' of doing something outside?"

Allen gestured, yes.

"Umm," Claire pretended to think. Her forearms were numb and pulsating. "If you want, we can go swimming?"

Claire lost all feeling in her toes, as his eyes darted to her chest and then to her bikini area. She was shaking inside, but she swallowed and kept going. "You don't have to, obviously. I was gonna wear that bikini you saw me in the other day, so I figured you'd want to."

Allen's pupils popped into large, black discs. Claire's delivery had been casual and gently teasing. Allen appeared stunned and confused, but (hopefully) not alarmed.

"What... Why?" "Why would I want to?"

Claire washed her fidgeting hands in the sink. She shrugged breezily. "Oh. I thought you were kinda looking at me in it a bit. Guess I was wrong."

Allen was frozen at the kitchen entryway. He didn't know what to say or do. "Why did you think- Why would I do that?"

Claire scrubbed her hands harder and shrugged again. "Why does any guy? Ha. Hm. I wore a bikini and I thought you looked. So, I was just making fun of you for it."

The son stared existentially into the granite tile. He hadn't moved a muscle. "I wasn't looking at you. I'm not weird."

"I wasn't calling you weird," Claire shook her head and cocked her eyebrow curiously. She dried her hands. "It's what guys normally do. Why would it be weird?"

"You're-" Allen bristled and shuffled his feet. He was losing his sense of logic. "You're my mom."

"And?" Claire smiled passively, with dry lips. "How would that change anything? Guys look at women all the time— especially when we're in swimwear. It's not like there's some sort of 'eye blocker' because I'm your mom, hm."

"Like, it's no big deal, obviously. I know you don't choose who you look at. You either like what you see and wanna see more of it, or you don't."

This was the most unnatural talk Claire had ever had. But she did a good job making it seem like regular, household chit-chat.

"I wasn't looking." Allen adamantly stared at the floor between them.

"Okay," Claire happily chirped and rifled through a cabinet for bowls she didn't need for dinner. "I saw your eyes kinda aimed at me from behind. I figured you were looking. I mean, it's super common."

"What's common?"

"Hmm? Oh, just guys your age looking at their moms like that. I see it all the time. Super common."

Allen scratched his thumb. "Really...?"

Claire was lightheaded and short on breath. "Uh, yeah. Makes sense. I guess moms are, like, the women who sons see all the time, and are used to learning from, and feel safe around. Ya know? So, it makes sense for sons to feel comfortable looking at them that way."