Trophy Wife

Alex stared at the tent half hidden in the dark; slowly he turned and stared at his mother standing on the lawn beside him.

"What's this" he couldn't help but ask.

"It's a tent silly" his mother laughed.

"I got that mom" Alex turned back to the large cabin tent. ""What's it for?" he asked

"Not what sweetie" his mother stepped to the tent opening. "More who, it's for you" she smiled.

Alex tried to ignore watching his mother move in the dim light in the tight cocktail dress she wore. Her hips were swaying with every step. He stared at his mother confused.

"I don't get it, why for me?" he tried not to stare at the curve of his mothers' ass as she turned, seeing how the snug fabric clung to every curve.

"Honey, you said yourself the house is like Grand Central Station" she said softly. "I know how you value your privacy, and the party tonight is going to go half the night" she looked back at the large house lit up from every window.

Alex looked back as he heard loud laughter drift across the lawn. At least he couldn't hear the music blaring from inside he thought. His mother was right; the last two days had been a strain on his nerves.

His brother Michael was getting married in three days, and tonight was only the first of the events surrounding the 'main event.' God forbid if anyone called his brother Mike, Alex thought. Michael Buchmann was the spitting image of his father.

Michael had graduated class president. Harvard law School and then joining their fathers law firm. He had already won two cases on his own and was a rising star. When Alex had asked about the wedding, he had been shocked at his brothers' response.

"Time to mount my trophy little brother" he had said. Just like his father, he had found the perfect trophy wife and was following The Grand Plan, as it was called in the Buchmann house.

The only problem was Alex didn't fit into that plan. He had always struggled with school, and when he announced he was not going into law, but instead wanted to be an architect, he thought his father was going to shit himself.

Only his mother had stood by him, quietly diverting his father, working her magic, until everything had been smoothed out again. Oh people might call his mother a trophy wife, but Alex knew better. It was his mother who was in charge, but it seemed only he saw it. Just like this tent, she always seemed to find a solution just in the nick of time.

"Thanks mom" he said softly.

"Well come take a look" his mother smiled in the half light.

She bent and unzipped the flap on the tent. Alex could only stare as her tight dress now stretched over the globes of her ass. God her ass, he thought, as just the sight started a stirring in his groin.

Alex bent down and followed his mother into the tent just as he looked up his mother turned to face him. Still half bent forward from the low ceiling, the pose let her breasts hang down in her low front dress. Alex felt a rush of blood head straight south to his cock, as he stared down the top of his mothers' dress. Her expanse of cleavage was on full display to him.

After a moment, he felt a finger under his chin, slowly raising his head and eyes, until he met his mothers' gaze.

"My eyes are up here baby" she whispered with a sparkle in her eyes.

"Sorry mom" Alex felt his face flush with shame, he had been caught staring at her.

"Sorry for what?" his mother laughed lightly. "For staring at your mothers' tits?"

"Jesus mom" Alex gasped.

"Baby, you've stared at them before" his mother smiled. "I didn't say I minded I just wanted to talk for a moment. I can't stay long you know that."

"Yeah, I know" Alex gave a resigned sigh. "Have to be the trophy for the party right mom."

Grace Buchmann sighed, she knew how hard things had been for her youngest. Sometimes he just didn't fit the Buchmann 'mold'. She had met her husband at university in her second year. Twenty years old and two years into her commercial design degree when the dashing young Buchmann had swept her off her feet.

By the time she turned twenty-one, she was married. Their first child was born at twenty-two and their second not more than a year later. It had seemed whirlwind to her then.

Now, Grace knew better. Everything had been planned, scheduled by that dashing young man. Married with the standard two children he had entered his fathers' law practice by twenty-five. Now, at forty-seven the trophy wife and mother was watching her eldest follow the same path as his father.

But Alex was somehow different, more like her side of the family. It had been a terrible disappointment to Richard when Alex had decided against the family law practice. Richard Michael Buchmann was if anything a traditionalist.

One of those family traditions was the acquisition of the 'trophy wife'. Her mother-in-law was one, and it had taken only three years of their married life to know she was one.

At barely five foot six inches, Grace Buchmann could turn any head in a room, even now at almost fifty years old. Age had done little to her 36D breasts, they still stood proud and full in her tight cocktail dress. She knew her best was the curves of her ass when she bent slightly forward, an art she had perfected over the years. The fact it took hours a week in the gym to keep that ass, was something very few knew.

"Your father has a lot of important clients Alex" she softly replied. "As his wife I have a role to play. It helps his career, which pays our bills."

"Career, there is a lot of other things more important than a career" Alex grumbled.

Grace stepped closer to her son; she could feel the heat emanating from his body along with the tension that ran through him. Her hand rested on his broad chest, and she could feel his muscles ripple through his shirt.

Get a grip girl, she whispered to herself. This is your son for God's sake.

"Alex...look at me" Grace told her son. She waited until they locked eyes in the dim light of the tent.

"In this tent, it's just us, you and me. For once in your life, pull your big boy pants up and just say what's on your mind." She told him.

Grace stared into her sons' eyes, her eyes widening as she saw the light in his eyes growing. A light she had not seen in the eyes of a man in many years. It was a hunger, a mixture of lust and love that shone out of him.

"He doesn't deserve you" Alex grated. "He's got the most beautiful, sexiest, loving wife; and he's in there with some fake titted bimbo on his lap with a drink in his hand." He rushed out.

Grace stood stunned as the words poured out of Alex like a tidal wave. He had to have been keeping this inside for years, she realized.

"He's not only an arrogant pompous ass, just like his oldest son" Alex pushed on. "He's also a fool" he spat. "If you were my wife, I would....." Suddenly, realizing what he was saying, Alex stopped himself.

"Say it Alex" Grace whispered in a hushed voice. "Finish what you were saying. You would...what?" she stared into his eyes, her heart pounding.

"Don't ask mom" Alex choked out.

Grace's fingers curled inward, her nails digging into her son's strong pectorals. She took a deep breath, smelling the fresh cut grass, and that scent, the scent of a MAN.

"What's said in this tent stays in this tent, understood." Grace told her son. "Now finish what you were saying." She waited for his response.

"If you were my wife, I wouldn't have you hanging on my arm like some trinket." Alex stared back at his mother. She could hear the growing husk in his voice. "Oh you'd be my trophy wife, have no doubt. But I'd be mounting my trophy every damn chance I could."

Grace was beyond stunned at her sons' words. But there was more, something defined in that moment. Gone was the pretense of the child, before her stood a primal man; confident, strong, who knew what he wanted and wasn't afraid to say it. She felt the almost animal magnetism emanate from her son, sending a jolt through her body, her nipples stretching against the fabric of her dress, while a warm wetness grew between her legs.

Alex could only stare into his mothers' eyes, watching her face, as a flush began to cover her cheeks. Was she angry? Had he just overstepped the boundary he wondered.

"You're jealous." Grace whispered softly, the realization hitting home. "I'm your mother, you do realize" she could barely husk back.

Before she could even react, Alex leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. This was no mother son kiss. She felt raw passion rip through her as his mouth almost devoured her. By the time they separated, Grace was almost gasping for air, she felt the rampant hardness pressed against her belly, her breasts crushed against his broad chest.

She had melted into the kiss, reveling in the sheer desire a man was expressing for her. That it was her son had evaporated from her mind.

"Be careful mister" Grace reached up and traced a nail along his cheek. "You're playing with fire."

"Then I hope I burn alive" Alex said gruffly.

Grace felt the closeness of the tent close in. Her son standing only inches from her, his chest rising and falling. The huge bulge more than evident in his tight jeans. While she felt that long forgotten wetness seep down her inner thighs.

"I have to get back to the party." She whispered.

Turning, she stepped to the tent flap, and then bent to grip the small zipper. Looking over her shoulder, she watched Alex, his eyes glued to the curve of her ass.

"You really would, wouldn't you?" she breathed out.

At first, Alex didn't understand his mothers' comment. Then, staring at her, it hit him.

"In a heartbeat mom" Alex's deep voice filled her ears.

Without a reply to his frank honestly, Grace stepped out of the tent and into the cool night air. Hurrying across the lawn and through the patio door, she was worried she had been gone to long and that Richard would be upset.

Finding her husband among all the guests was rather easier than she thought. True to her sons' words, Richard Buchmann was sitting on a couch, one hand holding a glass of Champaign. The other resting on the hip of what had to be a twenty year old girl with the biggest fake tits Grace had ever seen.

Alex knew his father well, she realized. She stood silently, comparing the two men. While the older used power and money to draw, it was actually Alex who held more. His sheer confidence in himself and that barely concealed animal magnetism that would strip away any opposition.

Grace shuddered as she realized just how close she had come to surrendering to that magnetism. Son or not, the idea of Alex bending her over and mounting her sent a tremor through her belly.

For the next two hours, Grace drifted among the guests, largely ignoring her husband. The dutiful hostess, she greeted everyone with elegance and style. By eleven o'clock she had made all the rounds, and needed to get away. Stepping onto the patio, she wrapped her arms around herself against the cool night air. Her eyes straining into the darkness to try and see the tent where her son was.

What Grace didn't know, was that her son was only a few feet behind her, standing by the doorway to the patio, watching her. Alex had made his appearance at the party, he knew it was required or his father would be angry. He had made a point for his brother and his father to see him. Then figuring on slipping back to the tent, he had seen his mother step outside.

Just watching her, he could feel his cock thicken. God he wanted her, and bad. His mother had shocked him when she had accepted the kiss earlier. Instead of being angry or insulted, she had instead made some reference to a fire.

A thought suddenly clicked in his mind. As one of the servers passed by, he stopped the young man and asked for a match. When the server pulled a small book of matches from his jacket pocket, Alex reached into his own.

"How would you like to make ten bucks, easy money?" he asked the young man.

"Is it illegal?" the teenager half whined.

"Nope, nothing illegal" Alex said. He quickly scribbled inside the matchbook cover, and then shut it again. "Just take that match book to the lady standing there, and give it to her."

"Whatcha want me to tell her" the kid asked.

"Nothing" Alex smiled. "She'll know. Just hand it to her and a quick ten spot."

As the young server took the matchbook, Alex slipped off the patio and headed for the tent hidden in the darkness.

Grace was surprised when the young server approached her, she hadn't asked for a drink. When the young man silently handed her the match book and then left, she was confused.

Opening the small book, Grace was surprised to see the scrawl inside. She turned so the light from the patio door could let her read.

Light my fire were the only three words. Her head snapped up and she looked back across the dark lawn. You wouldn't dare, she thought.

Alex waited nervously in the tent. It had been a bold move on his part, but did it pay off. Just as he was about to call it a night and head for bed, he heard the zipper on the front flap raising. He watched as the dark form of his mother slid through the door, followed by the sound of the zipper being returned.

The pair stood in the darkness, only able to see shape but not bodies. Alex tried to find the right words, but his tongue didn't seem to want to work. It was his mother who spoke first.

"Do you know what you're doing?" Grace asked softly.

"I know exactly what I'm doing" Alex husked back.

He pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it beside the air mattress. The pale light coming through the tent walls reflected off his now bare chest.

"Do you know what you're doing?" he asked back.

Alex heard the sound of a zipper again, this time he watched the form of his mother shimmy until her dress fell to the tent floor at her feet. For a second he wondered if she was wearing a bra, he hadn't bothered to check before when he kept staring at her tight ass.

"No" his mothers' soft voice came back. "But right now, I don't give a damn."

Alex stepped towards his mother; he outstretched hands coming in contact with her soft flesh just above her hips. Slowly he ran his hands up her sides, stunned when his palms were suddenly filled with the soft globes of her bare breasts. No bra, he breathed silently. His thumbs flicked lightly over the rock hard nipples that capped his mothers' breasts.

"Oh Goddddddddd" Grace hissed as a shudder went through her body.

Alex felt rather than saw when his mother arched her back slightly, pushing her full breasts into his hands.

"So long..." he whispered in the dark. "God I wish I could see you." He moaned. His hands gently kneading her soft tit flesh.

"We're here now" Grace moaned. "Make the best of it baby, explore every inch of your mother. Tell me how long you've wanted this."

Grace felt her son pull her closer to him. The heat from his bare chest radiating across her own skin. Her arms came up in the darkness, hands gripping his strong biceps.

"Oh Jesus" Grace groaned, as she felt Alex leaving soft moist kisses along her skin.

"So long" he mumbled, kissing along her neck. "Since I knew what sex was." His lips trailed over her shoulder. "Years...I've wanted you for years." He moaned as his lips descended downward.

Grace shuddered as she felt his hot breath blow across one nipple. Her entire mind blanked as her lust grew. No longer mother and son, now they were simply man and woman, and they were about to mate she realized.

"Alexxxxxxxxxxxxxx" Grace moaned deep in her throat, as she felt his hot lips wrap around her aching nipple. "God yes, suck my nipple baby. Nurse on mommas' tits."

Grace felt like her body was on fire as Alex suckled first one and then the other breast. Her hands cupped the back of his head, holding his mouth against her tingling skin. She gasped as she felt his hand slide down over her flexing belly...lower...closer to her over heated core.

"Touch me...please" she begged her son. "I need...Unnghhhhh" she groaned as Alex slid his hand inside her thongs, his fingers dragging along her swollen soaked lips.

Grace grunted as one thick finger slid up inside her clutching pussy. Her hips began rocking as her son began slowly finger fucking her hot pussy.

"Yes...yes..." she moaned. "Oh fuck...Alex..." she gasped as her son created intense pleasure in the pit of her belly.

Grace could already feel the knot building deep in her gut. She could not remember ever being this turned on, this alive, in her almost fifty years.

"Don't stop...Oh God" Grace moaned, as her hips moved in time to her sons' probing finger. "I'm going to cum baby, you're going to make mommy cum." She hissed.

Suddenly, as if her words set something off in Alex, she felt his finger pull free of her spasming walls. Before she could react or even speak, he had dropped to his knees in the dark before her, dragging her thong down to her knees in one motion...

"What are you...?" She tried to groan. "Oh SHITTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT" Grace wailed as she felt her son wrap his hot lips around her empty pussy.

Grace threw her head back while her hips thrust forward. Her hands were still at the back of his head from before and now she pulled tightly, mashing his face into her wet box.

"Oh my Godddd...oh yes baby EAT ME" Grace babbled as her son feasted on her.

Giving oral sex was something her husband constantly refused, claiming it was demeaning for a real man to perform a "lez act". Now she stood in a dark tent in her own backyard, her husband half-drunk with some floozie; while her adoring and beautiful son did what his father wouldn't.

"Mmmmmmmmmm" Alex moaned as his tongue was coated with his mothers' pulsing cream. He felt her body literally vibrate as she ascended to her climax. He had every intention of giving her so much pleasure, she would beg for more.

The sound of wet slurping filled the tent as Grace felt his tongue drive in and out of her soaked lips. Her juices gushing out to coat his face, she wished now she could look down and watch the hot scene at her feet.