It had been a lonely couple of years since my husband walked out on me for his co-worker. That bastard claimed the world would never be the same since the pandemic interrupted our lives. He stated that he only had one life to live, and he wanted to fulfil all his dreams, goals, and fantasies. Our son and I just were not part of his future. Looking back, I guess I may have had some suspicions of his cheating, but I believe I ignored them because I just didn’t care.
At the time of this story, it had been nearly a year since my divorce was finalized. I was fortunate enough to find a work-from-home job during the pandemic. I will never be rich, but I did earn enough to take care of myself and help my son when his part-time job just wasn’t enough.
“Bruh,” the fully developed voice said, as my son entered the kitchen.
“Braxton,” I said as a sarcastic warning to my son as he poured orange juice into a glass. “What did I tell you about calling me, Bruh?” I asked with a hint of annoyance in my early Monday morning voice.
“Would you rather me call you, Lori?” he fired back.
I could see the smirk grow into a full-grown smile as he momentarily turned toward me. My son graduated from high school a few months earlier. He had grown into a handsome six foot-two tall man. As he sipped his drink, I couldn’t help but notice that the years on the swim team and the hard work in the gym had paid off. He was by no means one of those guys who spent six hours a day in the gym with the goals of being a bodybuilder. Braxton had a slim, but chiseled physique.
“How about Mom?” I asked. “Or I’ll even settle for Ma at this point.” Secretly, I wish he would call me, Mommy, as he did when he was my little boy. “What plans do you have this weekend?” I asked, just trying to get my son to have a conversation with me. It’s no secret that Braxton and I hadn’t been very close since his father left. A fifteen-year-old boy needed his father. I did the best I could over the previous three years, but I know I wasn’t what a young man needed.
He wiped a fresh waterdrop from his chest with an index finger. I watched another droplet fall from freshly showered dark hair as he turned toward the sink. I watched as his muscles flexed nonchalantly as he reached for the faucet.
“Well,” he began as he rinsed his glass in the sink. Amanda and I are going out Friday night to celebrate our one year together.” Braxton slipped his thumbs into the waistband of his shorts as if he was readjusting the elastic. “I made reservations at Julios.”
*** ***
Later that day, I arrived home from the gym. Like many other people, I gained a few pounds during the pandemic and then adding a depressional divorce sure didn’t help. I was finally down to my goal of one hundred fifty-five pounds. Although, I would never be able to fit into my high school-day jeans, because of the curves my body has taken since childbirth. I was happy to work off some of the small pouch and excess fat that had gathered around my belly.
I steered my car into the driveway and parked beside my son’s girlfriend’s car. Amanda had been spending a lot more time at our house since her and my son graduated. Amanda had a dominant personality who surprised me sometimes with the things she said and did. She and my son began dating the previous Summer, just before their Senior year began. She was different than the other girls my son dated or talked to in his earlier years. Amanda was more mature and sometimes a little demanding, but Braxton sure seemed to love her, and I wasn’t going to stand in their way.
As I entered the house, I pulled out the hair tie, allowing my long, wavy dark hair to rest on my shoulders. I sat down my gym bag and went straight to the kitchen. I wasn’t really surprised to find the downstairs to be empty as I guzzled a bottle of water. After tossing the empty bottle in the trash, I pulled the bottom of my sports bra away from my sticky skin, allowing the d-cup girls to momentarily breath. Braxton and Amanda spent a lot of time in his bedroom when she was over. As an adult, I felt as if I knew what they were doing in there, but as a mother, I wished they hadn’t.
As I climbed to the top of the stairs, I could hear faint heavy breathing. Again, as a mother, I could have gone the rest of my life without hearing that. My son’s door was cracked open about two inches. Like a pervert, I stopped at his door and peaked inside. The room was dark except for the soft light emitting from the television. I leaned my head a little to the right and could see my son’s bare and hairless body grinding up and down on Amanda. I froze in what I thought was shock, but later realized it was curiosity and envy. After what felt like minutes, but was actually a just few seconds, I witnessed Amanda turn her head slightly toward me. I locked my eyes on hers as I tried moving away. If there was a version of sleep paralysis that can happen when you are awake, I was experiencing it. At that moment, I should have ran away, or Amanda should have screamed, but instead, she flashed me a devious smile.
“I’m cumming,” she whispered, between breaths. Amanda kept her blue eyes locked on me as long as she could before they began rolling back. “Right there, baby, don’t stop,” she said aloud, but as if she was saying it directly to me.
Braxton pulled his right leg up toward Amanda, unknowingly exposing himself to me. I knew I should have fled, or at least, walked away, but Amandas delightful expressions had my feet cemented to the floor. I could hear the faint slapping sound of my son’s balls hitting his girlfriend’s ass every time he thrusted deep inside her. The air filled with the sweet aroma of passionate love making.
Braxton forced Amanda’s left leg up and her ankle to rest on his shoulder and pulled himself up onto his knees all in one move. “Oh, my God,” Braxton sighed. “You feel so good.”
“Fuck me hard,” Amanda demanded. Her whimpers of ecstasy turned into full blown screams as my son, my darling son, my rock-hard son, drove deeper inside her. “Do you like it?” she asked, still looking at me.
At that moment, the cement broke, and I was able to pull myself away from the door. I hurried straight into the bathroom and turned on the shower. I didn’t even bother touching the knob for hot water, because I definitely needed the cold shower that was about jolt my body and soul back to reality.
After the long cold shower, I headed downstairs to prepare dinner. My son’s bedroom door was completely closed, so I assumed they were still in his room. I was not ready to see the girl whom my son just fucked into oblivion. When I turned the corner into the kitchen, I was met by a chipper blonde who wore the largest smile. She gleamed with satisfaction. I stopped in my tracks.
“Hey, Miss Lori,” Amanda greeted me. Not surprised by my lack of ability to speak, she added, “Braxton and I are going make some dinner. Please join us.” She reached toward me with a glass of wine. She had to take my hand and force my fingers around the glass.
“Hey, mom,” Braxton said, as he dumped a box of pasta into a pot of boiling water. “It’s not going to be anything fancy, but we’ll cook for you tonight.” He cocked his head to one side and then asked, “Is everything alright?”
I silently sat down in a chair at the round kitchen table. I sat nearest the door, in case I needed to run away. Even though, I had no idea where I would run to or how far I would have to go to avoid the interrogation of my watching the two of them. Nearly stuttering, I simply said, “Yes.”
“I didn’t hear you come in,” my son said, as he stirred the sauce. “You must have had a rough workout.” He added, suggesting a reason for my silence.
Amanda sat down to my left, propping her right foot on the seat with her. She wiggled her manicured toes as if I hadn’t just seen them rubbing my son’s ear twenty minutes earlier. She held a smile as she stared at me. “Have you done anything fun lately?” she asked, as if she wanted me to confess.
Braxton served me first. As he sat the plate down, I began to calm just a little. I figured if Amanda was going to say anything, she would have freaked out the moment she saw me. Or did she already tell my son? Does he know? Is that why he decided to cook me dinner? More questions and thoughts raced through my mind as they began eating as if nothing happened.
After dinner, Amanda and I cleaned the dishes as Braxton went off to do Braxton things. The awkward silence made me more nervous. “Umm,” I mumbled, trying to break the silence. “Sorry,” I stammered. Apologizing was the first thing I thought to do that made sense.
“I bet that was exciting, wasn’t it?” Amanda inquired. She continued rinsing the plates as if what I did was normal. “You should have stayed a little longer,” she said as she turned off the water. “You missed the best part.”
I wiped my hands on a towel and hurried across the kitchen. What was she thinking? Did she think I came home hoping, praying, I would get a show? “I am very sorry,” I apologized again, before heading toward the stairs.
“What is she sorry about?” Braxton asked Amanda as he walked past me.
I stopped at the bottom of the stairs, in earshot. I had wished Amanda would avoid the question, but at the same time, I had hoped she would tell him just to clear the air. I couldn’t bear to listen, so I rushed upstairs and hid myself in my bedroom.
“We need to talk,” Amanda said, just as I reached the top of the stairs.
*** ***
The sun peaked through the curtains as I awoke from a stressful night. It was a mostly sleepless night as I laid awake worrying about my son’s reaction to his girlfriend telling him that his own mother perved on them the previous night. I could just imagine her telling him how I spied on him fucking his girlfriend. I tried playing a scenario in my mind of how my son would forgive me. However, the more I thought of excuses, the more the images of my son’s rock-hard cock sliding easily in and out of Amanda’s drench pussy. The sound of his balls slapping on her firm ass played in my head like a faint drum in tune with whimpers of ecstasy and heavy breathing. Before I realized it, I slid my index finger inside my panties, separating my lips. I leaned my head back as I allowed myself to be consumed by the re-play.
“Mom,” I heard a voice say, immediately snapping be back. The door opened and in walked my son. He was once again wearing just a pair of thin gym shorts.
“Can I talk to you?”
Here it comes. Here comes the moment my son flipped on me. I instantly sat up in the bed, preparing for the lashing. I was too nervous to notice my hard nipples protruding through the transparent lingerie, until I noticed my son staring at them. I pulled the satin sheet over my chest.
“Amanda broke up with me this morning.” Braxton said, as he sat on the edge of the bed.
I instantly felt a rush of heat come over me. I just knew it was my fault. What girl would want to date a guy with a pervy mother? “I am sorry, honey,” I said, realizing that apologizing was becoming a new norm for me. Of all the scenarios that played through my head about the previous night never prepared me for what came next.
“She told me,” Braxton began to explain. “Since she was going off to college in two weeks, that there was very little chance that a long-distance relationship would work.” Braxton turned toward me, lifting his left leg on the bed.
Was she serious? Was that really her excuse? It wasn’t that I watched them. Did she tell him about that too? “Is that all she said?” I nervously asked.
Braxton’s expression became puzzled as he as asked, “Does that sound like bullshit to you?”
I barely listened to a word he said as my eyes drifted down his muscular body. I internally gasp when I realized the head of dick was peaking out the bottom of his shorts. It looked like a perfectly cut mushroom that was presenting itself for me to see or even fantasize about it. Not knowing what else to do, I reached my arms out, offering comfort to my son. He took the invitation and crawled up next to me, wrapping one arm around my waist. Using my left arm, I placed it around his neck, as I began caressing his hair.
My son’s grip got a little tighter as he inched me closer to him. He let his had rest just below my right breast. My mind raced for what to say to him. Should I pry a little more to find out if Amanda had told him about me? No matter how I thought to ask, my voice remained silent. I decided to just let it go and live in the moment. I had been ages since I held my baby in my arms.
“It’ll be okay, baby.” I said, offering a comforting settlement. “Mommy will take care of you.” What the fuck was I thinking, saying, Mommy?
“I know,” my son said. “Thank you, Mommy.” He added, adding a bit of excitement to my morning. Braxton slightly turned, planting his crotch against my bare thigh.
I looked down, witnessing my right nipple getting hard again. What the fuck was wrong with me? I could feel my son’s semi-erection pressed against me. I took a deep breath and tried to ignore it. But then he thumped his dick against my leg. I pulled my leg slightly away from him, but Braxton inched closer to me once again.
He eased his hand up and under the sheet to rest just under my breast, almost as if he was holding it in place. I glared down at his bare chest and stomach, imagining running my fingertips across his chiseled abs. Instead, I used my right hand to trace the muscles in his arm. My son slid his hand a little higher, cupping the bottom of the breast.
I’ll admit, it did feel nice to have someone touching me. It had been so long since anyone, especially a man snuggled his warm body next to mine. At that point, I sort of wished he would just grab my tit and squeeze. I always did like it a little rough, but my ex-husband was never into it. I thought how I could present myself to Braxton, so he knew it would be okay to touch me a little more. I knew I was allowing my intrusive thoughts to win when I placed my hand on top of his. He didn’t pull away, so I pulled his hand a little higher, squeezing my hand around his.
“Mmm,” I sighed, as my son rolled my nipple between his fingers. I felt his cock hardened against my leg. I couldn’t believe I was not only allowing but encouraging my son to fondle me. I didn’t know where it was going or how far I would go with my son, but I was living for the moment.
Braxton slid open my lingerie shirt, resting his clean-shaven face on my other breast. He slightly nudged, nodding his head, against me. I guided my son’s hand down my stomach to rest on the lace of my panties. I closed my eyes, wishing for my son to ravage my yearning body. He allowed his fingertips to dance just above my landing strip. He began massaging the small patch of hair slowly, moving a little lower with each swirl of his finger. I spread my legs slightly apart, sending him an invitation. At that point, I believed my clit had its own pulse and I could hear it over the thudding of my heart. I knew it would only take a few seconds of my son flicking my clit and I would have to change the soaked sheets. I chewed my lower lip as I waited for Braxton to slide his finger just a little lower.
I moved my left leg, pushing my thigh into his crotch. I could feel him getting harder. I had wished he would just pull it out and lay it on my leg. I wanted to see if the rest of his cock was as beautiful as the head. I wanted to grab it. Squeeze it. Stroke it.
“Sorry,” he said, as he pulled his hand away and then stood up. “I am so sorry,” he pleaded again.
I was the one that was sorry. I should have never put him in that situation. I watched my son tug at his shorts as if those little shorts were going to hide his rock-hard cock. He turned toward the door to leave.
“If you need anything, Honey,” I quickly said. “Mommy is here.” Mommy is here. I sounded like a horny old broad offering to whore myself out to my hurting son. Then again, maybe I was.
After he left my room, I laid there in disbelief. Was I really trying to get my son to finger fuck me? What sort of mother was I? I figured I had better go talk to him. I pulled my shirt closed as I entered the hallway. I tip-toed over to his door and when I was about to knock, I heard soft moans. I glued my ear to his door and could hear Braxton stroking himself. Was that finally my moment? Should I have walked in and offered a helping hand? Or a helping mouth? I could at least see the rest of his eight-teen year-old cock. While I was trying to make up my mind, he let out a deep grunt. I could almost imagine the loads of cum spurting from his hard cock, shooting all over his belly. Should I have gone in and offered to help clean up? What the fuck was wrong with me? Instead, I hurried toward the bathroom for another frigid shower.
*** ***
The next couple of days, my son and I avoided each other as much as possible. Just a quick hello and good mornings were the extent of our conversations. We pretty much stayed in our own rooms and only came out when we thought the other was still hiding. I knew I went too far with him. I knew I should have confronted the elephant in the room and discussed what happened or what didn’t happen. I should have tried to make sure he was okay with his break-up with Amanda. I definitely should not have tried to slide his finger in me.
Friday morning arrived and I began my day as normal. A quick breakfast and then a shower to wake up for my day as an online accountant. When I went back downstairs to pour another cup of coffee, Braxton was in the kitchen. I paused as he saw me. He was dressed for his day of work at the local hardware store. When I went to walk past him, he put up an arm, placing a hand against the wall, blocking my path.
“I’ve been thinking,” he said. “The other morning was very nice. And, I am sorry that I stopped.”
“It’s probably for the better,” I said, trying to reassure him that stopping was the right thing to do.
“Anyway,” he said, as he leaned in close to me, causing me to back against the wall. “Since I already have reservations for tonight, do you want to go with me instead?”
My son had his lips so close to mine that I could taste his breath. The hint of mint filled my throat as I asked, “Like a date?” A date. Really? Who in the fuck goes on a date with their own son?
Braxton pressed his lips to mine, sending a bolt of electricity tingling through my chest and straight to my clit. He gently parted my lips with his tongue as he eased into my mouth. Those few seconds were the most passionate few seconds I have ever had in my entire life.
He pulled away and said, “Yes.” He caressed my chin with his thumb and continued. “Yes, a date.” As he walked away, he glanced back and smiled. “It’s going to be a night we’re never going to forget.”
As the front door closed, I was still trying to remember why I went into the kitchen. My son had my thoughts scrambled. The words, we’re never going to forget, replayed in my head. What did he mean? Did he plan to continue what we were doing the other morning? Was I even ready for that? I wasn’t sure, but as I headed upstairs, I thought that I may get ready.
*** ***
Later that evening, my son stood outside my bedroom door waiting for me. “We have to get going soon,” he said, through door.
I didn’t get any work done because I couldn’t concentrate. I spent all day waxing, applying lotion, and trying to find the perfect thing to wear for my first date in many years. I settled on a black dress with spaghetti straps and a plunging neckline. The bottom fell halfway down my silky-smooth thighs. I spent the previous two hours trying different hairstyles that would accentuate my neck and cleavage. When I couldn’t decide, I just let my hair fall naturally. I slipped silver dangling earrings in as I took one last look in the mirror and thought, was I really trying to look appealing or even sexy for my own son? I thought I should have changed into something much more conservative.
“Please,” Braxton pleaded. “We are going to be late.”
I opened the bedroom door to greet my son. “Fuck,” he gasped. I took that as a compliment. The way he ogled me, I thought that must have been the best compliment I had ever received. My ex-husband had never looked at me like that. I knew it was mostly lust in the son’s eyes, but I was okay with that for that night.
When we arrived at the restaurant, my son rushed around and opened my door for me. Then he proceeded to open the restaurant door for me too. He was trying his best to be a complete gentleman. While my son was speaking with the host about our table, I saw the one man I had wished to never see again. Across the crowded room was my ex-husband having a meal. I had secretly hoped he choked and there wasn’t a doctor in the house.
Where we were seated, I had a partial view of that bastard. I tried not to look at him, it seemed every time I did, he was staring at me. I hoped he liked what he saw and regretted not being able to have any of it again. As I looked around the restaurant, I realized he wasn’t the only person staring at me. There were several people glancing our way with dirty looks and obvious judgement. Julios was known for romantic dinners and not somewhere a mother would accompany her own son.
“Are you sure this is okay?” I asked, as I leaned toward my son. My son raised his eyebrows indicating he was confused. “People are staring at us.”
“Are you kidding me?” my son asked, grinning. “I am with a cougar.” He added, as he closed the menu. “I am with the hottest woman in here. Let them stare.”
A cougar? My son really thought of his own mother as a cougar. “Fine,” I replied.
Dinner was delicious. I was finishing my third glass of wine when my son motioned for the server. Braxton handed the server the black book with the payment for dinner. I offered to pay, but Braxton insisted it was his treat since he invited me.
Maybe he was a gentleman. As I watched him interact with the waiter and maybe it was the wine or maybe just the atmosphere, I couldn’t help but think about the other morning. The way my son’s soft hands cupped my breast and his hot breath laid upon my nipple like a dense morning fog. I secretly hoped we would continue when we arrived home. I wanted to properly thank my son for a wonderful evening.
As we stood to leave, there was a crowd at the front door, so Braxton motioned toward the back, suggesting we avoid the large crowd. That was fine with me, because then I wouldn’t have to walk past my ex and avoid him possibly wanting to talk to our son.
As my son opened the car door for me, I stopped and then cupped his face into my hands. “Thank you for a wonderful dinner,” I said. I gently pulled him down to me and kissed him on the lips, once again thanking him for the evening.
My son wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me tightly against himself. My balance shifted, forcing me to fall back against the car. I wasn’t sure if it was my son, loneliness, or the wine, but I accepted my son’s tongue in my mouth once again. I slowly eased my hand down his chest, and then stomach, and then just below his belt. I felt a bulge forming in his slacks as I grabbed him. He grew hard as he thumped in my hand.
Earlier that day, I made up my mind that if Braxton pursued me, I was going to go all the way with him. I didn’t know if he needed it or not, but I did. I would worry about the consequences later.
My son followed me around the front of the car, where I tried sitting on the hood. I was struggling to get up there, so my son grabbed me by the waist and hoisted me on the hood. He was definitely going to get lucky that night. As a matter of fact, he was going to get lucky right then and there.
I lived a pretty vanilla life when it came to sex. I always thought sex was to be with two people who loved each other, and it was supposed to only be in the bedroom. Well, one out of two wasn’t so bad. My son and I definitely loved each other.
I ended a quick fight with my son’s belt and zipper, allowing his hard cock to finally be free. As I stroked him, I noticed how perfectly shaped the rest of it was. It was thicker than his father and I could almost imagine it inside me.
The warm night air filled with a sweet aroma from the bakery next door. I guessed they had begun getting cakes and other treats prepared for the next business day. I looked around just as a precaution before sliding down my panties. I propped one foot up, inviting my son to enter my soaking pussy.
“Now?” my son, questioned. “Is this really happening?”
I planned on thanking him once we got home, but I guessed that was as good of a time as any. “Only if you want, baby,” I said, allowing my son to make the decision if he wanted to be home, inside his own mother.
I felt the head gently press against my lips as I took a deep breath. Was this really happening? Was I really going to let my son fuck me. Was I really going to fuck on the hood of my car in an alley behind a restaurant? I scooted toward him, letting him know I was ready.
“Fuck,” we whispered simultaneously.
That first thrust awoke a starving woman inside me. I felt him mildly stretching my cock hungry pussy. At that moment, I knew exactly what I had been missing and I hoped I would never have to be thirsty ever again. I wrapped both of my legs around my sons back as he gripped my ass hard. He pulled me to him every time he thrust, making sure he drove deeper inside with every stroke.
“Mommy,” he moaned in my ear.
I felt my juices shooting out of me as he continued calling me Mommy. I don’t know where it came from, but I dug deep in my inner thoughts and offered, “Do you like fucking Mommy?”
He immediately stopped. I knew I went too far. He was already regretting our first moment together as lovers. I looked him in the face as he began to smile. He kissed me and then began pounding me harder than before. I guess he did like it after all. I was going to push the boundaries. It was my turn to live for my goals, dreams, and fantasies.
“Tell Mommy you love her pussy.” I whispered.
“I absolute love everything about you, Mommy.” My son said, as he grew harder.
I ignored the feet shuffling coming down the alley near us. No way was I giving up that moment. I was in the garden of ecstasy and never wanted to leave. I glanced up, peering over my sons’ shoulder to see my ex-husband walking past. I stared him down as our son fucked me like he never did. He looked in shock as he realized it was me.
“Fuck Mommy,” I said, loud enough for my ex to hear me. “Cum for me, baby,” I begged. At that moment, I felt my son grip my ass tight as he thrusted as deep as he could. His hot cum began filling my pussy as I continued teasing him. “Fill me up, son. Fill your mommy with cum.”
Once he finished, my son laid his head on my shoulder. “Thank you, Mommy.”
As my ex hurried away, I said, “I love you, baby, but we better get going.”
I barely got my door closed as my son put the transmission in drive and pulled away. I felt my son running out of me as he made a right turn onto the street in front of the restaurant. I knew my seat was going to need a good cleaning before anyone could ride passenger again.
“Do you have my panties,” I asked, as I searched around the dark interior.
“There,” my son said, pointing through the windshield. My panties were hooked on the end of the wiper, but as soon as I saw them, the wind broke them loose and sent them sliding up the windshield and across the roof. “You don’t need them anyway,” he added, as he steered onto the freeway toward home.
*** ***
I slept better that night than I had in years. I wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or the release of pent-up orgasms, but regardless, when I awoke that next morning, I was refreshed. I could tell by the brightness in the room, the sun had already been up for several hours. I rolled over and opened my eyes to an empty spot beside me. That’s when it hit me like a ton of bricks.
“Fuck!”, I said aloud. A wall of guilt fell upon me. I read and heard stories of mothers who seduced their sons and I always thought that I could never do that. Those women were psychos. What woman in their right mind would take advantage of their own son?
I felt a stickiness between my legs and a sickness in my stomach as I crept toward the bedroom door. I stopped and listened as if I was a stranger in someone else’s house. Maybe I was a stranger. I didn’t know who I was anymore. Satisfied the house was quiet, I shuffled into the bathroom to shower. I tried washing away the previous night’s sins, but the more I scrubbed, the more I thought about my lovely son calling me Mommy as he rocketed his juices inside me.
Out of the shower, I stepped into the hallway where I slid on a royal blue thong. I noticed my son’s door was half open. I peeked inside to see him still asleep. The grey sheet barely covered his left leg as his gorgeous body was stretched out. His dick rested on his right thigh. It took everything in me to stop me from going in there and taking him in my mouth. Against my inner demoness, I left him be and went downstairs and would wait for him to wake up to see if he wanted to discuss our date.
I poured a cup of coffee as I looked over my nearly nude body. I figured there was no way my son could be upset if he saw me topless. Anyway, I waited, and I waited. Was that boy ever going to wake up? I had just finished my third cup when I heard him turn the corner of the kitchen. I kept my back to him as I washed the mug. I fumbled the mug in the sink as I waited for him to break the ice. I didn’t hear him as he snuck up behind me. I felt his naked body press against mine.
“Are we not wearing clothes anymore?” he asked. “Which, by the way, is fine with me.”
I felt his firm cock press against my ass as he swept my hair away from my neck. He planted a soft kiss on the side of my neck and then gave a slight sucking just before pulling away. It felt as if someone turned the thermostat to a thousand degrees.
“We should talk about last night,” I said, as I turned around. I noticed his shorts on the floor. Braxton slipped them off when he saw me in a state of undress in the kitchen. “I am very sorry that I took advantage of you last night.”
“Take advantage of me?” he asked. “I am sorry I lost your panties.” Braxton rested his hands on my hips. “Was that a one-time thing, or was it something else?”
Something else? What did he want it to be? I wasn’t sure what I wanted it to be.
“What do you mean?” I asked, hoping he would make the decision for me.
“Well,” he began. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I fought sleep as long as I could, wishing you would come into my room last night. I even slept naked for you, Mommy.”
There it was it. Mommy. That is all it took. “If we are going to continue enjoying each other, we have to lay some rules.” I said. What rules? I didn’t know what the rules were for something like that. Did we want to be mother and son in the streets and fuck buddies in the sheets? Was it something less? Was it something more?
“Rule number one,” I said. “We can not tell anyone.” The moment those words left my lips, I knew what I was suggesting was wrong. Not only did the majority of society look down on our taboo, but it was actually illegal.
“As much as I would love to tell the world that I am in a relationship with the most beautiful woman in the world, I can refrain from doing so.” Braxton said. “Rule number two,” he added. “Actually, you know what.” Braxton kissed me on the lips. “Whatever you decide is fine with me. As much or as little as you want is good with me.”
Relationship, sort of lingered in my mind as my son smiled at me. “Is that what you want? Do you want to refer to me as your girlfriend?” I asked. “Remember, you can’t tell anyone about us though.”
“You’re right,” he said. “Whatever you come up with is fine.” Braxton reached around me, cupping my ass in his hands. Our bare chests pressed together like a compactor. I could see the reflection of lust in my eyes through his eyes. Braxton dropped down to one knee as he slid down my thong. “I want to properly thank you for last night.”
I pulled my right leg to rest over his shoulder as he reached out with his tongue, caressing my lips. It only took a few licks before they began to part, waiting for him to slip inside me. I never realized how long my son’s tongue was as he injected it inside me, slurping my juices. My son slowly worked his tongue from the bottom of my pussy up to the top, where he would pause and use the tip of his tongue to flick my clit. It would only take a minute before I felt an orgasmic wave flow through me.
My son slurped a little faster, being careful to not miss a drop of his mothers cum. He let out a slight growl as he continued pleasing me. I gripped the back of his hair, pulling his face deeper into me. All the years as a swimmer, I knew breathing through his nose in between breaths was second nature to him.
“I’m cumming again,” I yelped. “Oh fuck, son.” My chest heaved from the rush of adrenaline as my son drank the last bit of me. Al though he did miss some of it, I was okay with the juices running down my thigh.
“Oh,” he said. “I missed a spot.” My son ran his tongue up my inner thigh, being sure to not let any go to waste. Braxton then stood and gripped my ass tight as he picked me up.
He carried me to the living room where he gently laid me down on the couch. As he pulled away to position himself, I saw exactly what I craved. I reached for him twice, missing his hard cock the first time. The second time, I was finally able to get my hand wrapped around it.
“You lay down, baby,” I said, instructing my son. “Let Mommy take care of you.”
My son quickly obliged. I got on my knees at my sons’ feet. I looked him in the eyes as I pressed my tongue against the base of his cleanly shaven cock. As I slowly worked my tongue toward the head, he thumped several times, making me wetter. I opened wide and took one of his balls into my mouth. They were big and firm. I swirled my tongue around his nut, while I maintained a firm grip on his cock.
I opened my eyes and stared down his throbbing cock. I let his ball fall freely from my mouth as I gathered saliva on my lips. I had to stretch my jaw a bit wide to fit my boy in my mouth. It felt so right. It felt so natural. His cock belonged in my mouth. I took in as much of him as I could. I definitely needed to practice my throat game and hopefully, my son would let me practice as much as I wanted.
I used my left hand to fondle his balls as I used my right hand to slide up and down and twist on his shaft. He thumped in my mouth whenever my tongue reached his head. I felt him grow a little harder, which stretched my jaw a little wider. His chest began heaving heavier indicating he was getting close. I didn’t want him to finish yet. I wanted, no, I needed to feel him inside me.
A new wave of hormones came over me like I had never experienced before. No other man, not even my ex-husband could make my pussy wet and throb the way my teenage son could. I was living in an entirely different world and was loving the experience. Who was I to stop two people from enjoying each other. We didn’t need stupid fucking rules.
I pulled away from his throbbing cock and then pushed him flat on his back as I straddled him. “Can Mommy feel you inside her?” I playfully asked.
My son managed to nod as I took a firm grip on the base of his cock. I hovered my pussy over my son’s lap as I rubbed his head on my pussy lips. I eased myself down on him, taking in everything he had to offer. He felt bigger than the previous night. That day, it was my turn. It was my turn to control the rhythm. It was my turn to make him cum for me.
I sat up straight, arching my back, making sure he could feel every inch of my walls. I slowly scooted around my ass around, keeping him all the way inside me. My son twirled my nipples between his index fingers and thumbs, helping me achieve my first orgasm with him inside me.
“I can’t hold it back,” my son cried out.
The moment his hot cum shot deep inside me, I knew that my pussy then belonged to him. It was no longer mine. This was my son’s pussy. He owned it. He could do whatever he wanted whenever he wanted.
This was my new life.
