The Matrons of Regal Bay Ch. 22

"You'd better slow down with those, if you haven't eaten," she warned her son.

"I had a late lunch," he said. "I had some pizza over at Tim's." He dropped back into the recliner. "Go ahead and eat without me. I might head out anyway, later on," he told his mother.

Ursula gave her son a long look, wondering if he had another rendezvous lined up, with Pamela or maybe another woman her own age. Ever since Pamela had called her up for a talk, ever since they'd met and Ursula learned of her son's fetish for older women, and ever since Pamela described to her how Freddy secretly felt about her, his own mother, Ursula had been almost frightened to talk with Freddy. Even now, sitting with him in the living room, she could feel her heart racing. She wanted to confront him, to get everything between them out in the open. She wanted to let Freddy know that it was alright if he had sexual urges for her. There was just so much she wanted to tell her son, and yet she had no idea how to begin.

Ursula took a long pull from the beer, gulping down much more than she'd intended. She coughed.

"You'd better slow down yourself, Mom," Freddy said. "You might want to get something in your stomach before you get drunk."

"Listen to the pot calling the kettle black," she smiled, and stood up to head back to the kitchen. She grabbed a dish towel and wiped her chin. "Maybe I want to get drunk. It's my house, you know. I'll do what I want in my own house." She brought the bottle to her lips and threw back her head. The last of the beer went down quickly. Wiping her mouth with the towel again, she looked at her son sitting in the recliner. He was indeed handsome, and had a leanness about him, like a young rancher, she thought. He didn't look at all like the media technology student he actually was. Then again, he did look like a young man who tended the manicured fairways and greens of a golf course.

"And if I want to get laid, in my own house, who gives a shit who it's with," she muttered to herself. Again she went to the refrigerator and retrieved a beer, her third in the half hour she'd been home. The cap went into the trash bin and she went back into the living room.

It might have been the first she'd noticed, but she noticed then that Freddy was shirtless, wearing only blue jeans. He was also barefooted. For some reason, she thought he looked sexy. It might have been the first time in her life she'd actually thought that. Even after all she'd discovered over the past day, she had until then not noticed that her son was indeed a ruggedly handsome young man. She realized that she was now seeing Freddy with the same eyes Pamela had, and that disturbed her.

Ursula sipped from her beer, her eyes on her son, and then dropped heavily into the sofa. Beer splashed from her bottle and landed square on her right breast, darkening the fabric of her blouse. She didn't care. She was getting loose and that was all that mattered to her.

The living room again fell into silence as the next program started. This next program was a documentary on the sex-lives of the ancient Romans, in particular those of the residents of Pompeii before the famed volcano's eruption. By the second commercial break, twenty minutes in, Ursula was feeling the effects of all the beers she'd had on her empty stomach. Unsteadily, she stood and headed for the kitchen.

"Need another beer?" she slurred towards her son as she passed. He didn't answer, but Ursula brought him one anyway and handed it to him. She dropped into one of the four high-back dining room chairs and set her bottle on the table. "Come over here, Freddy," she slurred. "I want to talk to you."

Freddy took his fresh beer and obediently moved over to sit across from his mother. She was definitely drunk, he observed, and he was interested in what she might have on her mind. It was a rare occasion that she ever wanted to talk, besides what he wanted for dinner or if he'd gotten his dirty clothes into the hamper to be washed. Freddy was still unaware that his mother knew about the affair he and Pamela had, as well as knowing that he had been spying on her and her father.

Smacking her hand flat to the table top, she blurted out, "How are you doing, Freddy?" Still unsure of how to proceed, she asked, "How's your sex life? Got any girl-friends I should know about?" She felt herself grinning at him.

"Mom, really," he replied gently, "do we need to talk about this now? You're getting pretty drunk."

She took a drink of her beer and then said, "Drinking's good. It loosens me up. You know, it was alcohol that helped me accept taking my mother's place in my dad's bed."

Freddy looked at his mother and waited. She swayed a little in her chair before continuing. "He was miserable after my mom died. He missed her badly, and so did I. I wanted to be there for him, and I was there for him, in any way he needed." She drank, and then banged her bottle to the table.

"So I went to his bed when he wanted mom, and needed me." She smiled at her son then and continued. "I've been fucking my own dad since before I was your age, did you know that? I'm still fucking my own dad! But you already know that, don't you? Do you know something else? I like it! I like giving my father pleasure. I like giving him head. I like giving him my fat little pussy." She grinned sinfully across the table, and then wiggled her butt in the chair, adding, "I like sitting on his face. I like his tongue up my snatch! He makes me cum, Freddy, did you know that? My own father makes me cum, with his tongue and his big, fat dick!"

Ursula paused, as if letting that soak in. She leaned back in the chair and drank from the bottle once again. In a somewhat gentler voice, she continued, "I like making love to my own dad. I like making my dad happy. What's the shame in that?"

Freddy shook his head. "Nothing, I guess," he muttered, not knowing where his mother was going with this, her confession. He knew that she knew about his voyeurism, she'd told him that she knew. But did she know everything, he wondered?

Ursula drove on. "I don't get it anywhere else, did you know that? I don't have a boy friend. I don't have guys hitting on me at work, or at the mall, or down at the beach. I accept that. I'm old, ugly, and fat."

Freddy chimed in then. "Mom, don't do that. You're not old, ugly, or fat. You're just an average, middle-aged, mature working mother."

Ursula looked at her son then and smiled. "You think I'm pretty, don't you Freddy?"

"Yes, Mom, I think you're pretty."

"Do you think I'm sexy? You do, don't you? I know you do. Pamela told me. But now I know because I see how you look at me. I've seen you watching me, when I dress, or when I forget to close the bathroom door when I shower. I didn't think about it then. I am now. I know you look at me, Freddy. I know you watch me. And you know what? I like it! I like knowing that you jack off, looking at me!"

Freddy was stunned, hearing his mother's admitting she knew. But did she know everything, he wondered. "I can't help but look at you, Mom. It's just us in this house. I'm a man, you know. I have needs, too."

"Just like me, you're telling me?" she asked. "You have needs to get laid? So go out and find a girl to fuck. Your own age. Not old bags like Pamela Walker and whoever else you might be dicking. Or me even."

"Mom!" Freddy gasped at his mother's language. It was the crudest he'd ever heard her talk, and it was making him excited.

Ursula looked across the table at her son. She wanted to ask him, but couldn't bring herself to. But she had to. She had to know, from him. "Pamela told me something yesterday. I didn't believe her then, but now I'm not so sure she was lying. She told me that you want to have sex with me. Do You? Do you want to have sex with me? You do, don't you Freddy? I can see it in your eyes, right now." Ursula shook her head and smacked the table once again with her hand. "Just like I fuck my own dad, you want to fuck your own mom." This last was a statement that she knew to be true.

"No, Mom! That's not it, really. Jeez, what are you saying?" Freddy was shocked. He had deep desires for his mother, that was true, and he'd admitted them to Pamela, when they made love. He'd even admitted to some of his friends, friends who claimed that they were themselves fucking their own mothers. But Freddy was afraid to make the move on his own mother. He just didn't have the nerve. And yet now he was being confronted by his own mother about his most sinful secret. And his cock suddenly began to awaken in his jeans.

"I'm saying that all you have to do is ask me," she slurred. "You never know. Maybe I'd surprise you, and tell you that I want you to fuck me. Maybe I'd say, "I want you to fuck me, Freddy." And maybe I do. Maybe I...I want you to fuck me, like you fuck Pamela, Freddy."

Freddy couldn't hide the surprise or the shock that crossed his face as he discovered that his mother indeed knew about his affair with her friend.

"That's right, Freddy. I know! I know you've been fucking Pamela. You know that she's my friend, don't you. She finally told me all about it, how you hooked up with her on-line. How you met in a hotel room on half a dozen nights and fucked your brains out. She told me that you called her Mommy, and that you admitted to her how you wanted me. Well, Freddy, here I am. You can have me, if you want me. I'm all yours for the taking!" She spread her arms wide, as if presenting herself for his approval. "Take me, son! Take me right here and right now!"

"Mom, you're drunk," he said. "You don't know what you're saying."

"Oh, I know what I'm saying. I'm saying I want you to fuck me. I want to fuck you, Freddy, as badly as I know you want to fuck me. I'm your mother, and you're my son." Ursula then leaned across the table, pulled her son's head to hers, and kissed him hard on the mouth. Freddy froze and didn't respond until after her lips had left his. "And you're going to do what I tell you to do, young man!"

"I don't want to take advantage of you when you're drunk," he said. "You'll be upset in the morning and probably very mad at me. I don't want that."

Still leaning across the table, her heavy breasts sitting on the top, Ursula picked up her bottle and drained it once again. "This might just be the only chance you ever get, young man. You'd better jump on it." She held her eyes to her son's. "We do this now, or we never do it. Am I clear?"

"Go get me another beer," she told her son a moment later, shoving her empty bottle towards him as she did.

"I don't think you need any more beer," Freddy replied.

"Either get me another beer," she insisted, "or give me your dick." She held her son's gaze a moment longer, and then told him in a warmer, softer voice, "Kiss me again, Freddy. I liked that." Freddy hesitated, but when he leaned across the table and kissed his mother, he knew that the line was indeed there to be crossed. Ursula draped an arm across his shoulder to hold him a moment longer, and their kiss lingered.

When their lips parted, Freddy reached across his mother's broad back and pulled her white blouse to him. Ursula straightened her arms and let him remove her top. It fell to the floor. She dropped to the table top, her ample breasts smashing into the cool wooden top, her arms splayed to her sides. Freddy popped her bra-clasp a moment later, and pulled it away, adding it to the blouse on the floor. Ursula remained chest-down on the table, her nipples now pressed into the cool wood. They grew hard quickly as she began to grasp what she was doing.

As his mother lay, giggling now, across the table, Freddy got up and went around behind her. Her hips were up as she had pulled her knees onto the chair when she leaned across the table. She still wore her red skirt and her wide ass wiggled his way as he stepped up behind her.

"You like my big ass, don't you?" Ursula asked her son. "I see you looking at it all the time." Freddy's hands went to her hips and she pushed back. Her butt went against the chair back and she wiggled it again. His hands slipped up to caress her back, and then her shoulders. Freddy then leaned around the chair and kissed her shoulders. Her short, dark brown hair didn't get in his way as he moved his mouth to her neck, planting light kisses across her flesh.

"That's nice, Freddy," she purred. "I like that. I like being kissed." She pushed up until she knelt in the chair, with Freddy holding her in place. His hips were pressed hard into her left hip and she thought she could feel his manhood growing by the moment.

Freddy found the hook and zipper of his mother's skirt, and a moment later it fell to a bunch at her knees. Her white panties remained in place, for the moment. With his mother upright, her large, naked breasts were on full display. But only for a moment.

"Freddy! You naughty boy!" Ursula gasped. She pulled her skirt up, to cover her nudity, while turning to face her son. "Are you trying to take advantage of your drunken mother?"

Freddy was about to back off and retreat to his bedroom when he felt his mother's hands at the front of his jeans. She had them unfastened and unzipped quickly, and a moment later she had a hold of his dick. He almost cried out as she pulled his cock free of his underwear.

"Oh, my!" she giggled. "Did I do this to you?" Ursula stroked her son's shaft, switching hands back and forth. She then slipped into the chair seat and lowered her head. She touched her lips to her son's cock head for the first time, making him moan. Her tongue flicked out and tickled his piss-slit, releasing a single drop of clear liquid that she lapped up. She then wrapped her lips around just the head and swirled her tongue round and round for a brief moment, before lifting away to see a look of astonishment on her son's face.

"You liked that?" she asked with a wicked grin. Ursula pushed him away suddenly and all but ran to the sofa, pulling her son along behind by his hand. She dropped into the sofa and lined Freddy up before her. Her skirt had fallen away as she'd crossed from the table to the sofa, and now she sat in only her white panties. She looked up into her son's face, still showing a drunken smirk. "Well, if you want me to suck your cock, you'd better get rid of those jeans."

Freddy quickly pushed his jeans downward to the floor around his ankles as his mother leaned forward and pulled his cock into her open mouth. She hummed as he filled her mouth, sending a stimulating vibration along his shaft, straight to his balls. He loved it. It was something Pamela also did when she sucked his dick.

"That's nice," he sighed as his mother began to bob along his length.

Ursula let his cock slip out of her mouth long enough to tell him, "So much like your grand-father's cock," before engulfing him deep once again.

As she sucked her son's cock in the living room, Ursula knew that their relationship had changed forever. It was so similar to how she had first been taken by her father that it scared her, and yet she continued to slurp noisily upon Freddy's big dick. She loved his taste, his texture, and how he fit so perfectly into her mouth. She knew he'd fit inside her pussy equally as well.

Ursula spit Freddy's cock out and panted, "Oh Freddy! I need you to fuck me! Fuck me now!"

She leaned back in the sofa and pushed her panties down and kicked them away, revealing to her son her full naked pussy, covered in a forest of dark pubic hair. Her pink slit glistened with excitement, and although he couldn't wait to feel his mother wrapped around his cock, he knew he had to taste her first.

"It's my turn, Mom," he insisted. "I want to taste that hot pussy of yours first." He went quickly to his knees between his mother's knees. He pushed them wider apart and brushed her fur back. As he did, he watched as her pussy lips parted, revealing the pink of her inner sex. It looked delicious, and he leaned in to plant his mouth fully upon his mother's cunt.

"Oh, Freddy!" Ursula gasped. "Oh, yes! Eat my pussy, Freddy! Eat your mother's fat pussy!"

The first thing Freddy noticed after taking in a deep lungful of her scent, was the fact that she tasted much creamier than the other older women he'd had recently, almost milky. He lapped upwards and felt a gush of his mother's juices slide across his tongue. He swallowed, and then returned his tongue to her slot. He worked deeper until his tongue penetrated her hole, and he was treated to yet another gush of her warm milky cream.

"Ooohh, Freddy! Soooo, good!" she moaned and took hold of her son's hair, pulling his face harder into her crotch. "Ooohh, god! Oh, god! Yeesssss!" Ursula arched her back and pressed her pussy hard against his face as her orgasm started. "Oooohhh, Fredddyyyyyy!" she moaned loud. Her pussy vibrated as her son lapped away, his tongue flicking and swabbing at her folds and crevasses. She continued to moan, long after Freddy's oral attack had settled into a gentle rubbing of his tongue around and across her entire area. When he finally lifted his face from her, his chin glistened with her smeared juices, and his grin was one of lustful satisfaction.

"That was wonderful," she sighed. Having had her knees drawn up and back, Ursula now relaxed and let her feet again go to the floor. Still, she framed her kneeling son between her knees. After a moment, she asked, "Would you like to go to my bedroom?"

Freddy felt his grin widen. "Yes, Mom. I'd like to take you to bed."

Ursula sat up, straining from the effort, and Freddy grabbed her hands to assist her. His eyes were on the heavy globes of her breasts as they swung forward. He stood, helping her to her feet as well. He was nearly a foot taller than his mother, and her cheek pressed into his chest as she hugged him. "I haven't had an orgasm that intense in years," she admitted. Looking up at him, she added, "Your grand-father is getting older, and he's just not as virile as he used to be, Freddy." She found her son's cock with her hand and wrapped her fingers delicately around it. "You're virile, Freddy. Young, powerful, strong. And I want to feel you inside me. Does that bother you? Does it bother you that your old mom wants your cock inside her?"

Freddy shook his head. "It doesn't bother me, if it doesn't bother you, Mom." She smiled, though he could still see the alcohol sparkle in her eyes.

Turning, Ursula let her son's cock go and found his hand. She led him to the hallway, but as they passed his bedroom, Freddy pulled free. "I'll meet you in a minute," he said as he ducked into his room. Assuming he was getting something, maybe even a condom, Ursula continued to her bedroom. Inside, she rolled into her bed after pulling the covers down. Her head buzzed from all of the alcohol, and yet she felt wonderful. Her hands came up to her breasts and she took hold of her nipples. She gently rolled and twisted them, waiting for her son to come to her.

Freddy stripped off the rest of his clothes in his bedroom, but had stopped in for an entirely different reason. Going to his closet, he moved the shoe box aside that hid the camera that he'd long ago mounted to the wall. He turned on the power, assured that the plug was in the socket and that the camera wouldn't die any time soon. Next, he ran the line form the camera to his lap top, sitting on the desk next to the closet door. He quickly checked to make sure that it was angled correctly and saw on screen his mother stretch out in here bed, waiting for him, playing with her tits. He knew he had better get going, before she changed her mind. He hit record, and all but ran from his room.

Taking care not to look towards the camera, and knowing that he was about to be the star of his first fuck flick that also starred his mother, Freddy joined his mother on her bed, where his grand-father had joined her on numerous occasions.