I suppose this all started because I let my son, Christopher, move from his room upstairs down to our spare bedroom in the basement. He was eighteen, and a responsible young man, so it seemed like a good idea at time. Who knew that it would turn our family upside down?
There was a rule in our house that Christopher wasn't supposed to have his girlfriend over unless I, or his father, was told about it. And if Gwen was over, he was supposed to always leave his bedroom door open. My son was not a rule breaker by nature, but I guess his hormones got the better of him. One day, I went down to the mechanical room in the basement to change the furnace filter and I was shocked to hear the sounds of love coming through the wall. I pressed my ear against the unfinished back of the drywall, and listened to Gwen shriek out the highs of ecstasy. I looked at my watch, they must have sneaked in right after school.
My first thought was that I would storm in there and confront them. But I couldn't move. It had been so long since my husband had made me make the sounds coming out of Christopher's room. Actually, as Gwen geared up to what was clearly an orgasm, I thought that maybe I had never made such noises. Certainly, I couldn't remember if I had.
The bed squeaked, and I could hear the headboard banging against the wall. I thought of the day my husband had helped him assemble his bed. Never did we think he'd put it to such use. As I listened, I could hear Christopher's low grunts harmonizing with Gwen's caterwauls. I wasn't going to confront them. I was going to listen like an eavesdropping pervert. A strange, fuzzy sensation spread through my belly. It dawned on me that I was wet between the legs. I had lived a sexless life for so long, I'd almost forgotten my body was capable of such things.
Through the wall, I heard Gwen trying to stifle her screams, clearly having her climax. Then, Christopher let out a long, low growl. Although my husband never made such a sound, I knew instinctively that this was the noise of a man's release. I prayed they were using condoms and crept quietly upstairs.
Much as I tried to stop myself, I sneaked down to the maintenance room the next day at the same time. Sure enough, the muffled sounds of love came through the wall. That fuzzy feeling returned to my belly, and I rubbed my thighs together. Day after day, I sneaked into the basement to hear the teenagers go at it. I told myself that I was just listening to Gwen so that I could imagine being young again. But soon, I admitted to myself that I was just as fixated on Christopher's grunting and the squeaking bed, which told me they made savage love.
After a couple weeks of this, it was time to find some satisfaction. I was growing quite frustrated with my sexless life. I cornered my husband one night before he could go to sleep and practically raped the poor man. He let me ride him, but the exercise turned out to make matters only worse. He orgasmed before I could, and he quickly fell asleep. That night, I went to the bathroom and touched myself for the first time. After that, I touched myself every night.
Well, it won't come as a surprise to you, that I started touching myself while listening to my son and his girlfriend in the basement. I did orgasm, and it was good, but my frustrations mounted. It was clear from Gwen's cries of passion that my hand could only give me a pale shade of what she experienced with Christopher.
Without knowing exactly what I was doing, I waited for my husband to go sleep one night. Then, I went down to Christopher's room and found him working on homework at his desk.
"It's nice to see you working so hard." I took a deep breath. The room still smelled of sex from his afternoon session with Gwen.
"Oh, hi, Mom." He looked up at me with bleary eyes. He did work very hard at school. I was so proud of him.
"We need to talk." I walked over to his bed, sat down on the edge, and turned his swivel chair to face me. I kept my hand on his pajama-clad thigh, near his knee, as I looked into his eyes. "I found the condoms you wrap up and throw away in the basement bathroom." My hand moved on its own, rubbing his thigh gently. What was I doing? "Your father and I were very clear about Gwen in our house. Have you been sneaking behind our backs?"
"I... um... I... well..." Christopher's brows knitted in confusion as he looked from my eyes, down to the hand on his thigh, and then back up to my face. "I'm sorry."
"Thank you for apologizing. I don't see any reason to get your father involved in this." I continued to gently rub his thigh. I glanced down and my eyes widened. He was hard. His underwear and pajamas could barely contain it. Was this because... of me?
"Um... okay... thanks, Mom." Confusion gave way to relief on Christopher's face. It was clear he thought he had been in hot water, but was going to get away with it.
"I'm glad we had this talk. Goodnight, sweetie." I stood and left the room, walking very quickly. He said goodnight to my back, but I was already rushing upstairs. I needed to get to my bathroom so I could take care of my poor, tingling vagina. The image of the bulge in his pajamas had burned itself into my brain. He was much bigger than his father. I was starting to see why Gwen squealed the way she did.
The next day, I sneaked down to the basement, nervous that I had spooked Christopher with our talk, and he wouldn't have Gwen over. But the second I entered the maintenance room, I heard them. A wide smile spread across my face. I put my ear to the wall, my hand went to my vagina under my dress, and I got off as they did.
That night, I entered Christopher's room again while he was studying. I sat down next to him, turned his chair, and rubbed his thigh with my hand like it was the most normal thing in the world. "We have to talk about Gwen," I said. "Are you always using protection?" I didn't know what I was driving at, but I wanted to talk about him and his cute, little girlfriend. I wanted him to tell me about what they were doing.
"Jeez, Mom." Christopher rolled his eyes, but answered my questions. He told me he was always safe. That she was on the pill and they used condoms every single time.
I wanted more. I wanted him to describe to me what they did in detail. Did she take him into her mouth? Did he do that for her? Did they do it only in missionary? Did she ride him? But how can a mother ask such things? I could feel frustration welling inside of me. Why did this eighteen-year-old girl get to experience such joys, but I was denied? After some awkward conversation that amounted to nothing, I bid him goodnight and went back upstairs.
It became a daily routine, that I would listen to Christopher and Gwen make love in the afternoon, and then visit him to question him at night. I always placed my hand on his firm thigh. And my questions got more probing over time. Eventually, I got Christopher to tell me how he felt about sex, "It's like the most dope roller coaster of all time," how he felt about Gwen, "I think I love her," and how he felt about me, "coolest mom ever," for looking the other way when Gwen came over. Little did he know, I wasn't looking the other way at all. I was listening to every minute of it.
The more we bonded and had our nightly talks, the more my frustration surged. I tried all sorts of things with my husband to quench my thirst, but he never lasted more than a few minutes. I always ended up with unsatisfying masturbation in the bathroom afterward.
One night, I was in his room talking to him as was now our custom. I had my hand on his thigh, gently rubbing his leg as we talked.
"I'm not sure what teenagers do in bed today, to tell you the truth." I admitted this sheepishly. "Could you tell me what you do?"
"Um... no... Mom." He looked over at me, confusion twisting his brow. His cheeks turned rosy. "I'm not going to talk about that."
"Well, I just want to know so that I know you're both safe."
"We're safe, Mom." He shook his head and smiled like that was the end of that line of questioning. But I persisted.
"Does she, for instance, touch you like this?" I squeezed his thigh near his knee and rubbed a little higher. I glanced down. There was that familiar tent in his pajamas poking up at me. My heart leaped into my throat. What was I doing? I didn't know, but I did know I couldn't stop.
"She does... more than that." A nervous edge entered my son's voice. "It's pretty late, I should probably get to --" He stopped suddenly, his whole body tensing as my hand trailed up to his penis and grabbed hold.
Good gracious, it was so thick. Did he feel the same electricity that I did? "Does she... touch you like this?" My voice was very dry. I squeezed him rhythmically. I was ready to flee the room if he pushed me away, but he just sat in his chair staring down at my hand on his junk.
"Mom?"
"I'm just wondering, if you two do this sort of thing." My need to end my frustration had seized control of my brain. In the moment, I pretended I was Gwen and that he was going to drive me to the heights he drove her to every afternoon. "Like this?" I pulled his elastic band, and my fingers went inside his pajamas and underwear. The flesh of his penis was fevered and hard, with just the faintest give. So perfect.
"Yeah, we do that." He watched my hand bounce under his pajamas as I stroked him. Eventually, I returned to my senses and withdrew my hand. "It's late. Goodnight." I rushed from the room.
But I returned the next night. And after a few minutes of performative small talk, my hand was inside his PJs again, pumping away. Goodness, had his father ever been that hard? My husband had certainly never been that big. I worked him with my hand in silence for a while, then withdrew, and rushed from the room again. That night as I rubbed my button in the bathroom, I thought about how he must be finishing himself off in the basement bedroom. Despite these advances, my frustration mounted. The next day, I seduced my husband again, almost in a frenzy. But he did nothing to quell the thirst inside me.
After my husband fell asleep in his post orgasmic bliss, I quickly went down to see Christopher. This was a mistake. I should have taken care of myself first to take the edge off. But I was so excited to get my hands on him. I understood a little of how Gwen must feel every afternoon.
We sat in our usual positions.
"Does Gwen... make you..." I stared at the bouncing bulge in his pants as I worked him. I needed to see it. With both hands, I pulled down his bottoms and underwear. He lifted his butt to help me, and his bottoms were now down around his ankles. "Does she ever... make you release in her hands? Or is it always in the condom? It could be dangerous if she got your stuff on her hands and then put it down... there." I nodded down at where my dress hung between my own legs. I was smitten by his beauty. The pink head was perfect. The thick, veiny shaft was so manly. I reminded myself that I had created this man who was a work of art.
"She... does make me... cum... with her hands sometimes." Christopher looked into my eyes with longing. I knew what he needed me to do.
"Let me see. Like this?" For the first time, I pumped him with both hands out in the open air.
"Yes... but she grips... ugh... a little tighter." Christopher's face tightened with pleasure. "Yes... like that. Oh, Mom. You're as good as Gwen."
That was music to my ears. I happily pumped him in silence for the next fifteen minutes. Eventually, he started grunting. I recognized the sound of his impending climax from all those times I'd listened through the wall. But now it was happening, and I was on this side of the wall. "Go ahead, sweetie. Just like you would... for Gwen."
Christopher practically growled as his stuff shot out of him. I shrieked a little, startled by the quantity and the force of his orgasm. It ejected up into the air and fell on his shirt, his legs, and my arms. I pumped him until he was quite done, feeling the hot, sticky liquid on my skin. When his body slumped in his chair, I removed my hands and stood.
"Okay, well, I'm glad I know how she does that," I said lamely.
He didn't seem to know how to respond. "Yeah," was all he said.
"I'll go get cleaned up now." I walked to the door and opened it, looking back at him. He had sperm stains up to his chest. "You better clean up, too. Goodnight."
"Goodnight." He smiled dreamily at me. I had a feeling he'd just go to sleep in his stained clothes. Oh, well.
I turned and raced upstairs to my bathroom. With his stuff still on my hands and arms, I masturbated myself to the best orgasm I'd had in over a decade. But it still left me wanting something more. I knew I had to have what Gwen had.
To my surprise, I felt no shame for what I did with Christopher. My frustration and excitement pushed such civilized thoughts from my mind. I had manipulated my teenage son's hefty penis to completion. The image of his hot stuff spewing out of him returned to me again and again. I woke up in the middle of the night and played that release over in my mind. While my husband snored next to me, I reached down and diddled myself to a small orgasm before falling back asleep.
While taking my morning shower, my son's eruption came back to my mind again. Even though the bathroom door was open, I reached down and rubbed my button. I knew my husband was dressing in the next room, but I couldn't stop myself.
"Everything okay, dear?" My husband poked his head into the bathroom, and I froze. "It sounds like you're breathing kind of funny." His voice was casual and mildly inquisitive.
"I'm... fine..." I was so close to an orgasm. He was really killing my buzz. It should have occurred to me that I could just hop out of the shower, and we could have morning sex like I imagined any healthy wife would do. But even as he stood there, my mind played my son's spasming body on repeat. "Go down to... breakfast, Carl. I'll be there... shortly," I panted.
"Okey doke."
Through the water splattered glass, I could see his silhouette disappear from the doorway. My hand went right back to my box. It was his fault anyway. Since I'd first heard Gwen and Christopher in the basement, I had given Carl plenty of opportunity to scratch my new itch. And whether it was his age, or his tool, he just wasn't up to the task. Having heard Gwen's frenzied cries of pleasure, I suspected that Christopher's eighteen years and nine inches were more than up to the task. As his mother, he would never let me confirm my suspicions. Although he would probably let me finish him with my hands again. The thought of it sent me over the edge. I shuddered out my climax in the shower.
My son barely made eye contact with me that morning. Like I imagined any good mother would do in my shoes, I tried to make him comfortable by pretending everything was quite normal. I think I fooled my husband, but Christopher raced off to school without even eating his croissant. And he usually loves those. The second they were both out of the house, I raced upstairs to my bedroom, closed the blinds, and put a towel on the bed. You can guess what I did for the next couple hours. And I'm pretty sure you know what I thought about while doing it.
I masturbated twice more that day. Once while listening to Christopher and Gwen hump on the other side of the basement wall, and one final time in the shower after I had worked Christopher to completion again that night. A sperm-soaked towel lay in the bathroom hamper just feet from where I was furiously massaging my vagina. That was the first night I brought a towel with me down to his room when I pleasured him. And I did so every night thereafter. That way I didn't have to worry about the mess.
For a couple weeks, that was my routine. My son seemed to look forward to our nightly visits. He had a sparkle in his eye every night when I arrived. And he always said thank you when I finished him off.
I did keep asking him questions about what he and Gwen were up to. Both as a pretense for the handjobs, and also because it spurred my excitement to imagine that I was eighteen again, my son was my boyfriend, and it was my vagina he lost himself in, not Gwen's. I had been hoping that maybe this would satisfy me. That if he splooged enough times in my hands, I maybe wouldn't need to have what Gwen had. But instead, this was winding me up further.
"Christopher, sweetie?" I was on my knees one night, working his thing steadily with my hands.
"Yeah, Mom?" His usually smart, composed face looked a bit dopey as I helped him approach his completion. I was used to that expression by now. But some light returned to his eyes when he heard my voice. He looked down at me like I was the best mother in the world. And who's to say I wasn't? It's not like Candice Johnson was doing this for her son down the block.
"I've been thinking, Chris." I knew it was time to give up the game of make believe we'd been playing. I wasn't doing this to make sure he was being safe with Gwen. That was a ridiculous notion, dashed to pieces by the last few weeks of activity. Christopher was an intelligent young man, he must have known I was into what we were doing. "I wonder if you would like to see my breasts." I worked hard to keep the tremor out of my voice. "I'm obviously not a teenager anymore, so I'll have a different body than Gwen. But maybe it would be nice for you to look while I do this for you?"
"Really... ugh... I don't know." Christopher's penis grew even larger in my hands and I could see his heavy testicles contracting. He was going to orgasm any minute.
"Remember all those years ago, when Mrs. Johnson and I would take a dip in the hot tub at her house and you would play with her son?" I had him right on the edge.
"Ooohhhhhh... Mom." His arms were trembling now. Apparently, this was a treasured memory. I thought it might be.
"Mrs. Johnson insisted that our husbands go out, and that she and I soak in the nude. We stopped doing those weekly hot tub nights because I saw the way you looked at me when I undressed. It made me uncomfortable." I picked up the towel and put it on his thigh, getting ready. "Don't think I didn't notice when you went up to Timmy's room and watched us from the window. I saw you watching Mrs. Johnson's boobs bobbing in the water, but I also saw you ogling mine. I couldn't have you spying on me." I sighed as I realized what this made me. "Turns out I'm a hypocrite."
"Why... ugh... Hypocrite... ugh... Mom?" Christopher was grunting now. It thrilled me to hear the deep, manly sounds of satisfaction coming from my sweet guy.
"Never mind." I wasn't about to tell him I'd been spying on him! "Just let it out now." I flung the towel over his penis and pumped hard with both hands. He cried out, convulsed, and his warmth trickled over my fingers. I wiped off my hands and then cleaned him up with the towel. He stared glassy eyed at me as I did this. I stood up, but I couldn't leave, could I? He had finished, but no one likes a tease. "Like I said before, I don't have the body of a teenager." I wiped my hands one last time on my yoga pants, stalling. Then, I lifted up my shirt, pulled it over my head, and put it neatly on his bed. I held my breath.
"Shit, Mom, I can't... believe... you're doing this." His eyes went very round. Despite his recent exertions, his thing looked very hard. A little bit of sperm leaked out of the top of his penis while he stared. My bra was the boring, supportive type, but he gazed at me like I was wearing the lingerie my husband had bought me for Christmas.
I reached behind my back and found the clasp. I finally exhaled. "Ready, sweetie?" I unhooked the straps and removed the bra, while deftly sliding my arm in front of my boobs. I dropped the bra, but continued to hide my breasts. Well, sometimes people do like a tease. Slowly, very slowly, I removed my arm. My eyes were fixed on his. But his gaze was laser focused on my chest. His mouth fell and his eyes got wider still. Something I hadn't felt in years settled over me as I released one boob, and then the other. I felt sexy. How could I not when this attractive young man drooled at me?
"Fuck... Mom..."
"Watch your language, mister." I frowned. That wasn't the response I'd wanted. Had I misread his look? "You don't like them?" I was seconds away from covering back up. "Are they too saggy?"
"No, no, no." He suddenly looked very alarmed. "They're not saggy at all. I mean, they hang, but... I don't know... they're big... like I remember them from Tim's house. From the hot tub... floating..." He looked up into my face. I could tell he was worried he'd ruined the moment and I'd put them away. And he almost had with his bad language. But his exuberance showed me how much he liked them, even if words failed him.
"So, you do like them?" I reached down, hefted them up, and let them drop on my chest. I watched his gaze snap back down to my boobs. A warm, tingling sensation spread through me. I had forgotten how good it felt to be desired.
"Yes. They're perfect." He reached over on his desk for his phone. "Could I take a picture? I'd love to be able to look at them whenever --"
"Not on your life!" I laughed, picked up the sperm-soaked towel, and whipped it at his penis playfully. "Next thing I know, I'll be on the internet. Or you'll say..." I lowered my voice in a bad imitation of Christopher, "... hey Gwen, you want to see my mom's tits." I pitched my voice back up to its normal octave, "No pictures. Not ever." I walked over to his closet, dropped the towel into his laundry hamper, and then turned to stand next to the bed. I was very aware of how my bare breasts shook as I walked.
"Sure, sorry." He pushed the phone away from him on his desk. "Well, can I just look at them for a while?"
"Sure." I sat down on the bed, keeping my back very straight, and put my arms by my sides. "How do they compare to Gwen's?"
"They're... um... different." Christopher reached out his right hand and stroked his penis. I don't think he was even aware he was doing it. Frankly, I was a little surprised he could masturbate. Carl had always been a one and done sort of guy, and I'd thought that all men were like that. It is quite possible that I had made a bunch of assumptions about men generally based on my experience that were not all together correct.
"Tell me how they're different, Chris." I shook my shoulders back and forth and jiggled by boobs a little. The pace of his hand quickened when I did that. I was almost drunk on the effect I was having on him. For the first time in months, I felt my frustration ebbing.
"Yours are... um... bigger. And they hang... lower. They really are perfect. Like two... tear drops."
"Does Gwen ever try to get you off with her breasts?" I could feel the heat in my cheeks as I blushed at his compliments.
"She tried. But she's too small to fit around my... my..." Christopher looked so darn happy staring at my breasts.
"Your penis?" I had not planned on it, but quickly I was on my knees again between his legs. I pushed his hand away, grabbed a boob in each hand, and pressed them around his hardness. "I bet Gwen wishes she could do this." I pumped my breasts up and down his shaft, looking down as the flared head popped up through my cleavage again and again. It was a bit dry, so without thinking, I spit in between my boobs to lubricate things. I pumped him for a while, mesmerized by the disappearing and reappearing penis. When he started his low grunting, I looked up to see the happiest teenager on Earth. "You like what I'm doing, sweetie?"
"Oh... God... I'm gonna..." His eyes shut tight and his face suddenly looked quite fierce.
"Wait..." But before I could move myself to a safe distance to retrieve his already saturated towel, he erupted. The hot liquid hit the underside of my chin first, and then sprayed up into my face. I let go of my breasts and fell backwards, but the fountain of sperm seemed to follow me. Hot splashes hit my breasts, upper chest, and more of my face. I closed my eyes and sat there, letting this force of nature take its course.
After a while, he spoke, "Mom? You okay? I didn't mean to... um... it just sort of happened."
"It's okay." His stuff tasted salty on my lips. Is that what his father's sperm tasted like? I couldn't remember. "We just got carried away." I wiped the spunk out of my eyes, and opened them. I was greeted by a son who looked totally satisfied, but also a bit concerned. "It's okay, really," I reassured him. "I'll just hop in the shower. Your father's asleep, so..." I shrugged. I didn't want to admit out loud that I was sneaking around behind Carl's back. I picked up my bra and shirt and held them to my chest. "You need to get yourself cleaned up, too."
"Sure, Mom." Now that he'd seen I wasn't mad about getting splooged on, his eyes turned dreamy. He was enjoying the wake of two orgasms. My word, he could have two enormous orgasms back to back. I shook my head and headed to the door. "Goodnight, Christopher."
"Goodnight, Mom. Thank you so much," he said in dreamy voice. I had the rather happy suspicion that he was watching my butt. I wiggled it a little in my yoga pants as I left his room.
As I masturbated in my bathroom that night, my frustration hadn't left me completely. But for the first time, I felt some measure of satisfaction at being so desired. I wondered what Christopher's sex with Gwen would sound like the next day. I imagined he would be even more amped than usual.
Dreams of men admiring me filled the night. A beautiful ball gown accentuated my curves as I waltzed gracefully with a faceless partner across a long dance floor. The men all looked on, cheering me, their eyes on the cleavage that spun past them. I had been invisible as a desired woman for so long, and now that world had reawakened. I loved the attention, and the dazzled look in their eyes. My gown suddenly fell, spilling my boobs for all to see. The faceless partner was gone, leaving me all alone with bare tits. I should have been aghast, but instead of covering them up, I flaunted them. The music changed to something teenagers would listen to with a heavy bass. My hips gyrated to the beat, my tits flailing about. Soon, the men changed. They were all Christopher, and they all had the happiest expressions on their faces. I was bringing them that joy. Their sexy mom. Me. I woke from the dream and sat up in bed.
Two things hit me as I sat in the dark next to my sleeping husband. I needed to see my son having sex with his girlfriend. Listening wasn't good enough anymore. And I needed to get myself a dildo. Something big and fat, like Christopher's cock. I reached for my phone and started searching for the perfect specimen. Same day delivery was, of course, a necessity.
The next morning, I sent my husband off to work and my son off to school just as if everything was perfectly normal. Everything was not perfectly normal. I busied myself with household chores as I waited for my delivery. Normally I would have gotten myself off once I had the house to myself, but I wanted to build that fire inside me for my new toy. So, I waited. And waited. And the day wore on. I eventually took up a spot in the guest bedroom around 3:30 so I could spot Christopher and Gwen when they snuck in through the basement casement window. It was almost four when I spotted them. I raced downstairs to intercept them before they got busy. Christopher was just about to close his door when I appeared.
"Good afternoon, Christopher. Hello, Gwen." I clasped my hands together and smiled at them in the most indulgent, motherly way. They both stared out of the room at me like I was a ghost. Surely, they knew I was home while they carried on every afternoon? Was I so naïve when I was eighteen? Maybe it wasn't naiveté, maybe they were just self-centered teenagers. I could forgive them that.
"Oh, hi, Mom." Christopher awkwardly removed his hand from Gwen's hip.
"Hello, Mrs. Green." Gwen looked down at her sneakers, her cheeks turning red.
"Hello, dear." I said to my son's girlfriend. "Do you mind if I borrow Christopher for a minute? I need to have a word with my son."
"Um... sure." She looked nervously around the room like she'd never seen it before.
"You can do that stuff teenagers do on your phone while you wait. We won't be long."
"Okay." The pretty thing fished her phone out of her backpack and sat on the edge of the bed. She didn't know that's where I sat when I jerked her boyfriend.
"Come on, Chris." I smiled to myself. I led him upstairs to the kitchen, and turned to face him.
"What's up, Mom?" He waited for me to respond, but I just stood there like an idiot.
"Um... well..." I had become so worked up delaying my self-satisfaction that I was about to do something really crazy. It wasn't long ago that I never touched myself. Now, I went mad when I didn't.
"Well, if it can wait. I'd better get back to --" Christopher stopped mid-sentence as I quickly closed the distance between us and my hands went to his waistband. I frantically worked to unbuckle his belt. "What are you doing?" He looked over his shoulder toward the basement stairs, but he didn't move away. That was a good sign.
"I just had a bit of inspiration." I got the belt undone and pulled down his zipper. "Does Gwen ever give you oral sex?" I worked at his button, and his only answer was silence. "You know, blowjobs?"
"I know what oral sex is, Mom." Christopher's voice had a waver to it. "Of course she does."
"Well, it's never polite to assume anything." The button popped loose, and I squatted down in front of him. My dress was pulled taut by my spread knees. "I know you liked what I did with my boobs last night. I mean, her boobs aren't big enough so..." I laughed on the inside. I didn't say, I won that round, Gwen, but I certainly thought it. "I'm a bit out of practice, but I want to see how I compare to Gwen's blowjob skills." I pulled down his pants and underwear around his ankles and looked up at him.
"What... now? Here?" He looked shocked.
I pushed on. "You want to see my boobs again? Will that help?" I quickly pulled them out of my bra and dress. I had gone completely nuts, but I was committed. Did all women in their 40s became so sex obsessed?
"Um..." Christopher simply stared down at my breasts, his cock fully rigid. "Gwen's downstairs. She could come up here any minute."
"We'll be quick." I reached up and took his cock in my right hand, his balls in my left, and leaned in. I tried not to look at Carl's wedding ring brushing up against Christopher's cute, hairy testicles. It had been over a decade since I'd last done this for my husband. Christopher was warm, salty, and quite big in my mouth. I rolled my tongue around the head, closing my eyes tight. Oh, my. This was wonderful. I was pleasing Christopher. He could have turned and run away to his girlfriend, but he wanted me. My sweet man thought I was worth getting caught over. My poor panties flooded. I moved the hand from his balls and reached under my dress and slipped a finger in.
"Mom... oh... shit... Mom."
"Mmmmppphhhhhhh." I popped the head out of my mouth, took it back in, and popped it again. I remember Carl saying he liked that sound. And it was so satisfying to do with a bigger penis. I stroked him and looked up. "You like when I blow you, Chris?"
He nodded. His eyes flickered between my boobs, my eyes, and the hand pumping him. The shock had worn off, and now his face was full of unbridled joy. It was a beautiful sight.
"After we're done, I want you to do me a favor." I smiled up at him. "I want you to tell Gwen that I've gone out for the afternoon and that you want to do it in your parents' bedroom."
"What?" He was clearly having a hard time taking it all in. I had overwhelmed the poor lad.
"I want to watch you and your girlfriend do it. Okay?" I pumped him harder and licked the head a few times. "I'll be hiding in the closet."
"That's weird, Mom." Christopher had finally hit his limit, it seemed. "I don't think sooooooo... ooooohhhhhhhh." He leaned his head back as I took him back into my mouth, now pumping him eagerly, and caressing the bottom of his cock with my tongue. Based on the noises he was making, it seemed like he liked it. I was good at blowing a large penis. Who knew! Not my dumb husband, that's for sure.
"Mmmppphhhhhh." I worked my own pussy while bring him closer and closer to orgasm. I had to decide whether I would try and swallow. The old, reserved part of my mind said no. My new hormone-crazed thoughts said yes. But fate wouldn't allow me the decision.
Ding-dong! The doorbell jerked us both from our erotic trances. I pulled my mouth off him, released my grip on his shaft, and looked over my shoulder toward the front door. Before I could do anything, Christopher pulled up his pants and clumsily stuffed his hard cock into his underwear. Still zipping up his pants, he turned from me and ran back down to the basement.
Ding-dong, ding-dong, ding-dong. "I hear you. I hear you." My shoulder's slumped as I removed my hand from my pussy, and walked over to the sink. I washed my hands quickly, put my boobs away, and wiped the spit from my chin. Then, I answered the door.
"Hello!" The delivery man handed me a box. "Have a nice day!" He turned and ran down our front walk.
"You too!" I called cheerily after him. "Even though you ruined a perfect moment," I said under my breath. I closed the door and tore into the package. It was my new dildo. How very much like Christmas Day it felt, looking down at the piece of silicone that would become so familiar with my insides. Well, it could have shown up earlier, but maybe this would still be a fun afternoon after all. After washing the thing, and moving to my closet, I waited. I pulled my dress off, and removed my panties. I stood in only my bra, rubbing the dildo against my dripping vaginal lips. The phallus wasn't as big as Christopher, but it was quite a bit bigger than my husband. I had never had anything so large inside me before. I pushed it in a little and inhaled sharply. It really spread me out. Would I finally get to see, as well as hear, my son in action?
My answer came soon enough. Gwen and Christopher entered my bedroom. I watched through a crack left open by the closet door. I tried not to grunt as the dildo was now about halfway in.
"You sure it's okay that we're in here?" Gwen looked around the room timidly.
"Yeah, my mom's out shopping. And my dad's working. Don't you think it'll be hot to do it here?" He reached over and pulled Gwen into a tight embrace. His eyes looked over her shoulder right to my hiding spot. I knew he couldn't see me in the dark closet, but my knees trembled all the same.
"Yeah... mmmmm... it is... sorta hot... to do it in your parent's room," Gwen said between kisses. They made out in the center of the room for a while and then she pushed him away and undressed. "Go get a towel or something. I don't want mess up your parents' bed in case I have one of those... things again."
"You mean the flood?" Christopher laughed and stripped as he walked to the master bath.
"Shut up. You know I don't like it when you call it that." Gwen folded her clothes and put them in a neat pile. She was pretty, and perky, standing there naked. But I was more womanly. I really was. I could see why Christopher stared at my tits the way he did. He wasn't getting that kind of view from his girlfriend.
"Sorry, Gwen." He returned from the bathroom naked and carrying a large towel. He spread it out on the bed. His cock was just as hard as I'd last seen it. I wondered if my spit was still on it. Was my spit going to lube his girlfriend? The thought of it made me dizzy. I pushed the dildo all the way in and grunted softly. Fortunately, they didn't hear me, because Christopher was playfully throwing Gwen onto my bed. She fell on her back in the middle of the towel. Christopher jumped between her legs. And, just like that, he was inside her, thrusting away. "How does it feel to do it on my parents' bed?"
"It's bad... uh... uh... uh... so... bad, Chris." She opened her thin legs wide for him, her bare feet bobbing up in the air with each impact. "We're so... uh... uh... bad."
She didn't know how bad she really was, giving a show to her boyfriend's mother. I pumped the dildo in time to my son's hips. He wasn't a big guy, but he looked so powerful mounting her like that. Oh, God, I was going to melt watching this. Or maybe my head would explode. Or my pussy could catch fire. All possibilities were on the table. This was the most magnetic thing I'd ever seen.
"Oh... oh... oh... it's happening!" Gwen's voice went operatic. Her legs shook uncontrollably. Her hands pressed themselves onto Christopher's ass. She screamed out and suddenly there was a huge wet spot on the towel under her. I'd never seen anything like it. The flood indeed. I bit my lip and came, my pussy squeezing that great big dildo. I closed my eyes and imagined I was flooding for Christopher instead of that teenager.
When I opened my eyes, Christopher had flipped her over and was taking her from behind. Wait... something was wrong, but I couldn't place it. My mind was too fragmented. I let the worry slide away as I frigged myself with that fat toy. With my free hand, I pulled a boob from my bra and cupped it, playing with the nipple. Those eighteen-year-olds were so vigorous and sexy mating like they were. And I felt sexy by association. They humped doggystyle for a long time, saying little sweet nothings to each other in between grunts and screams. Eventually, I could see Christopher trembling.
"Oh, shit," I whispered. I finally placed what was wrong. He wasn't wearing a condom. The little devil promised me he always wore a condom. Shit, shit, shit. My hands stopped what they were doing and I reached for the closet door. I had to put a stop to this. The dildo slid out with a plop, and then thumped on the carpet. No... I couldn't go out there without panties and one boob hanging outside my bra. And I'm sure I reeked of sex just as much as they did. I stopped, and stood very still in the dark closet wondering what to do. I wasn't feeling sexy anymore. I was feeling like an idiot. As his mother I had to do something, but I'd let my hormones put me in a vice. I was a failure of a parent.
"Damn... Gwen... I'm going to... cum..." Christopher pulled out of her and jacked himself above her small, round ass.
Oh, thank God. He wasn't going to make me a grandmother.
"Yes... yes... all over me..." Gwen cooed and made little circular motions with her butt. And she got her wish.
My hand went back to my pussy as I watched my son cover his girlfriend's back with cum. How did he ever keep so much in his balls? When he was done, he gave her ass a playful slap. "Let's get in the shower before my mom gets home." He then led the dazed young woman into my master bath.
I came twice more as I listened to them fuck in my shower. It took another hour for them to finally clean, get dressed, and leave. Once the coast was clear, I made my way to the shower with my new dildo. I pumped myself under the hot water, thinking about how I was standing in the same place those teenagers had just been screwing. I had several of the most intense orgasms of my life.
My escapades with my eighteen-year-old son were gathering speed. The train had left the station, and I could see the final destination. Before I'd watched him hump Gwen, I might have escaped my fate. But now, I couldn't get the memory of the power and animalistic savagery of his mating out of my mind. Every time I closed my eyes, I'd see his long cock digging into his girlfriend's pussy. The morning after my spying, I sent the men off to school and work. I had chores to do, but shirked my responsibilities. Instead, I spent the day with my new dildo, and it was good. But it wasn't him. My frustration had ebbed over the last few days. I was somewhat satisfied with the dildo and my other dirty deeds. But my wants and needs had expanded. My libido seemed to be moving the goalposts on me.
Christopher had looked at my womanly assets in a way he didn't eye Gwen's tight, eighteen-year-old body. I wanted to give him everything. I wanted to flip that switch for him. Not his silly girlfriend. As I worked myself to another orgasm with that dildo, the thought hit me hard. I was going to have sex with my son. And there was nothing anyone could do to stop it.
~~
Afternoon came, and I went down to the basement to listen through the wall. They were in Christopher's room humping away. I could hear Gwen squeaking with every impact. I wondered if she was going to have the flood again. So that was why the sneaky guy had been doing his own laundry. I thought he'd been trying to hide his cum. Any normal teenager stains his sheets, and most don't want their mother finding out. But it was her cum that was the real problem. I giggled as I listened to them, thinking how surprised they must have been the first time he'd done that to her. Would he do that to me? I certainly hadn't ever gushed like that before.
Leaning my back up against the wall, I slid my dildo under my dress. In the short time I'd had the thing, I was getting to know it very well. A heavy percussion started in Christopher's room. I could feel the vibration through the wall. He was really giving it to her. What was he thinking as he looked down at that skinny woman? Did he want something more to shake and bounce against what sounded like violent pounding? The dildo spread me out and I gasped. I was already not as tight as I used to be. What would Christopher do to my vagina with his larger cock?
The first time I'd heard those teenagers going at it, I was shocked. Maybe even a bit scandalized. But now ... now ... now I wanted to be one of them. To go back to those carefree days when pleasure wasn't competing with all of life's other pursuits. In those days, I could smile at a cute boy, go for a ride in his car, and give myself over to the joys of discovery and passion. These days, I had to clean, and shop, and cook, and tend to Carl's needs. I was still his wife, but I just wanted to forget that fact for a little while. "Oh, shit ... sweetie ... you're so big," I whispered to an imaginary Christopher. The thumping on the other side of the wall built to a crescendo. Gwen screamed constantly. Christopher's deep grunting just barely made it into the mechanical room.
Was he wearing a condom this time? Oh, Jesus, he could be knocking up his girlfriend right now. I prayed he had more sense than that. And then ... I prayed he didn't. I thought about that little bitch swelling with my grandchild inside her. I shouldn't want it, but I did. She would be his. All his. "Aaaaahhhhhhhhhh." I came right along with the teenagers. A few minutes later, I quietly left the mechanical room and headed upstairs.
~~
That night, I bit my nails sitting next to Carl on the sofa as we watched one of his shows. I couldn't focus on anything. I was so nervous.
I'm afraid I may have snapped at him when he asked if we should watch one more episode before bed. I just needed my husband asleep. I did apologize to him as we snuggled under the covers. I'm not a monster.
After a time, his breathing evened out and slowed. He was asleep. Very carefully, I climbed out of bed. I removed the t-shirt I slept in, and took off my panties. In the darkness, I padded over to the bathroom and put on a robe. I fished in the cabinet and pulled out one of Carl's condoms. He wouldn't miss one. The man was an organizational mess. He couldn't keep track of anything in our home if I didn't remind him. I stepped back into our room. The clock on his bedside table glowed. Goodness, he really had gone to bed late. It was already ten-thirty. I hoped Christopher had stayed up for me.
With nervous energy causing my legs to tremble, I made my way through the dark house. I breathed a sigh of relief when I got to the basement. A ribbon of light shone from under the door. He'd waited for me. How sweet. This was it. I was going to do it. I may not be a teenager, but I felt every bit like one in a moment so pregnant with anticipation and the possibility. I opened the door, stepped in, and closed it behind me.
"Oh, hey, Mom." Christopher lay on his bed, his phone in his hands. He looked up and smiled. If he noticed I was holding a condom, he didn't show it.
"What are you doing, sweetie?" I made my way to the side of the bed and crawled up next to him.
"Texting with Gwen." His eyes went a little wide. He'd noticed the condom. "Should I ... um ... tell her I'm busy?"
"No, Christopher, you can keep texting with your girlfriend." I stashed the condom in my pocket and pulled down his pajama bottoms. He wasn't wearing underwear. How delightful. His big guy was semi-hard and growing. I put my hand on it, doing my best to ignore the diamond on my finger. I could practically feel the life and vitality surging into his penis.
"Maybe ... um ... I should just catch up with her tomorrow." He started swiping at his screen.
"No ... Christopher ... apple of my eye ... keep texting her." I smiled broadly up at him, but kept an edge to my voice. "I want to see if you can concentrate on Gwen ... while I'm doing this." I pumped him with one hand. "Tell her that your mother came into your room, and that I'm really boring." The cock in my hand grew to a length that could accommodate two hands, so I obliged it and my right hand joined my left.
"Okay." His eyes struggled to pick a target, bouncing from his phone, to his penis, to my smiling face. Obediently, he kept swiping the keyboard on his phone. "But ... um ... you're not boring, Mom."
"Well, that can be our secret. Most men your age find their mothers very boring." The force of my arms moving caused my robe to open, exposing some good cleavage. His gaze now fixed on my chest when he wasn't looking at his phone. I worked him for a while as he texted.
"Mom?"
"Yes, sweetie?" I was now staring at that beautiful cock in him hands. He was so perfect.
"What's the condom for?"
"Hhmmmm." I glanced up at him. His cheeks were flushed. "Who's asking? You or Gwen?"
"Dang, Mom. I'm not telling Gwen anything about this." His face flushed an even deeper red. "I was just, you know, wondering."
"I noticed you weren't wearing one with Gwen in my bedroom yesterday." I let go of him, and pulled the condom out of my pocket. I held it up and made a show of tearing the foil and pulling it out. "So, I thought you'd need a lesson in wearing one."
"Oh." His face fell. Clearly, he'd thought we were going to have sex, and I'd dashed his hopes.
"Don't look so glum." I placed it on the head and tried to unroll it. It didn't seem to want to stretch enough to go over that great bulb at the end of his cock. "Once I get this on, I was going to let you wear it ... inside me."
"Really?" His whole body lurched at the news, including his penis. This made the unrolling even harder. "We can do that? I mean ... um ... really?"
"Yes, but only if I get this on. Hold still a second." I tried again, but I wasn't going to get it to fit without ripping the condom. That would sort of defeat the purpose. "Damn. It won't fit." I sat back on my butt and my shoulders slumped. I shrugged at him. "Go ahead and text your girlfriend that your mom can only give you a blowjob tonight. Sorry, Christopher."
"I've got condoms that fit me. Remember?" Like lightening, he sprung from his bed, opened his desk drawer, and returned with a condom. "Can we still do it?" He was so excited, he almost looked drunk. It was adorable.
"Why didn't I think of that? Keep texting Gwen." I tore the packet and pulled out the condom.
"Sure, sure." He picked up his phone and continued his conversation with his girlfriend. As I rolled the condom onto him, I wondered what they were talking about. I remembered the little sweet nothings they'd said to each other while doing doggy on my bed. Probably something like that.
"There." Satisfied, I gave his penis a tap and watched it sway back and forth. He was well clad. I stood on the bed next to him. I was so wet. Butterflies had taken over my stomach, and I had a knot in my throat. This was it. "Are you ready?" I dropped my robe, stuck my hips to the side and made a pose. "You like? How do I compare to Gwen?"
"You're just as beautiful as her." His eyes went wide and he dropped his phone next to him. He hurriedly pulled off his pajama top.
"Thanks," I said in a flat voice. That wasn't exactly what I was fishing for. Well, I could change his mind. All I had to do was rock his world. I stepped over him so that my feet were on either side of his hips and looked down. He was so fit, and masculine, and hard. Holy shit, I was going to rock my son's world. "Are you ready?"
All he could do is nod up at me, his eyes drinking in the undersides of my tits.
"If I do this, do you promise to always wear a condom with the women you sleep with?" I sat down on him, and reached between my legs to grasp his cock. Damn, he was so big.
He nodded at me again.
"Here goes." It was a good thing I was so wet, because even with all my work with the dildo, his cockhead felt simply enormous. "How ... does ... a little thing ... like Gwen ... make this look ... so ... aaaaahhhhhhh ... easy?" I sunk down on him. When he bottomed out, I felt a little jolt of pain deep inside me. So, that's what bumping your cervix feels like.
"I don't know, Mom." His eyes were still so big. His hands gripped the sheets. He looked like he was experiencing every Christmas morning in his life all at once.
"Now ... hold still ... I'm going to try something." I moved my hips, hesitating at first, but then smoothing out my motion. I tried to remember how to move my body during sex. I was no lily-white virgin, but he was so different from every other man that I felt like one. "Does that ... ugh ... feel good?"
"Yeah ... you're really tight." He nodded at me vigorously, biting his lip. I was tight, was I? Well, I didn't think that would last for long.
"Do you want me to ... uuuggghhhhh ... keep doing this? Or ... uuuuggggggg ..." I groaned. He kept hitting that spot deep inside me. Pain and pleasure danced together in my womb. "... should I ... bounce?"
"Bounce ... please." Christopher was such a polite young man.
"Okay." I did as he asked. By the third bounce, I thought he might rip me right in half. I'm sure my expression gave me away, because a look of concern spread on his face.
"Are you okay, Mom?" He managed to keep his gaze on my face despite my flopping tits, so I knew he was really worried.
"I'm ... ugh ... fine." Despite my rending vagina, I persisted in bouncing on Christopher. If his skinny girlfriend could do it, I could, too. "It's just ... uuuuggghhhhhh ... a little more than I'm ... used to." I rode him without saying anything for a while. The effort of it took my words away. I think the only sound in the room was unladylike grunting from me, I'm embarrassed to say. After a little while, the pain waned and the pleasure waxed. Even my cervix stopped barking at me every time I landed my weight on him.
"Mom?"
"Yes?" I had been staring through a poster on his wall as my orgasm spiraled closer and closer. I looked down at Christopher to see the ecstasy so clearly written on his face. The sight of that expression was the biggest turn on ever.
"We've been going ... uh ... uh ... for a while. I'm ... almost ready." The question formed in his eyes. He wanted to know if he should pull out.
"You can ... ah ... ah ... ah ... do it inside. That's what the condom ... is for." I put my arms behind his head and pulled his face to my boobs. "Grab me ... sweetie ... squeeze ... me." I was fixing to have the biggest orgasm of my life.
"Sure ... Mom." His voice was muffled by my tits. He grabbed the flesh around my hips and held on tight. That low growling sound I'd heard him make with Gwen vibrated against my ribcage. He was going to do it. I held on tight and bounced my hips on him.
Screaming filled the room. It was me. My mind pulled in a thousand directions and fragmented in rapture. As I floated down from the clouds, I became aware that he was kissing my boobs. I snuggled them into his face. As pleasure moved out like the tide, I realized I was looking at his phone on the mattress next to us. On the screen, Gwen had left message after message asking if Christopher was still there. Toward the bottom of the screen, she had signed off in disgust. Score another one for Mom. Sorry Gwen.
Eventually, I sat up and pulled off of him. Goodness, there was so much sperm in the condom. "Remember to throw that away where your father won't find it." I crawled off the bed and pulled on my robe. The sheets between his legs were soaked. He had made me have the flood too, and I hadn't even realized.
"Sure, Mom." He smiled lazily up at me.
The happiness I had given him warmed my heart and tickled my pussy. I thought about getting a new condom, but forced myself to head to bed. I shouldn't get greedy. I walked to the door. "I seem to have made a mess of your sheets. I hope you don't mind sleeping around it. I'll clean them in the morning."
"No problem." He looked like he wanted to say something more about that. Maybe about how it wasn't the first time he'd done that with a woman's cum all over his bed. But he wisely stopped himself. "I love you."
"I love you too, sweetie. Now get a good night's rest." I left his room and walked upstairs. When I got to my room, I found I was too jazzed to go to sleep, and too sore for my dildo. So, I lay down next to my husband and replayed the night's events over and over again in my mind.
Boy oh boy, was I sore the next day. Christopher had really done a number on my pussy. Well, I was the one riding him, so maybe I was responsible for smashing, stretching, and generally destroying my vagina. Either way, I planned to lay low for a little while after that. My son and I exchanged a few knowing glances over breakfast, and then I sent him and his father out into the world.
I wasn't about to go near my dildo with my pussy still throbbing, so I caught up on a bunch of the chores I'd been ignoring recently. I cleaned. I went shopping. I even got out in the garden for a bit. There were so many weeds. My obsession with Christopher had crowded out so much of life. As I stood among the poppies, I took a deep breath. Despite the pain between my legs, or maybe because of it, life was good.
That night, I didn't visit Christopher after Carl went to bed. I thought about it. I certainly wasn't going to have sex with him with my pussy in tatters, but I could have given him a nice, motherly blowjob. But no, we could take a little break. It was a good moment for reflection. My frustration was gone and life had broadened back out beyond my out-of-control libido.
In the morning, Christopher gave me questioning looks, but had the sense not to ask why I hadn't visited him the night before. He looked a little peeved as he hoisted his backpack and walked to the front door. "Bye, Mom. I'm going over to Gwen's this afternoon. I might not be home for dinner." He paused by the door to gauge my reaction.
"That's fine, sweetie. Tell your girlfriend I said hi." I gave him a cute little wave and he left.
"What was that all about?" Apparently, Carl wasn't as clueless as he looked. He'd caught the tension between me and our son.
"Oh, you know how he is with Gwen." What I said didn't make any sense. How was he with Gwen? But it sounded like something Carl wouldn't want to admit he knew nothing about.
"Oh, right." He gave me a manly nod. Men are such dummies.
"Goodbye, dear." I ushered him out the door. "Have a nice day at work." And just like that I had the house to myself. I thought about going and finding my dildo, my pussy had somewhat recovered after two days without sex. But instead, I busied myself with my daily chores. There was so much to catch up on.
Christopher missed dinner just as he said he would. I made sure to give him a hug when he returned, and sure enough he smelled like sex. He'd been doing his girlfriend all afternoon. I was sure of it. Our momentous night must have driven his eighteen-year-old hormones into overdrive. I thought about visiting him that night. But now that we were on a break, I wanted to drive him a little crazy. He had been driving me up the wall. It only seemed fair to turn it the other way around.
Instead of visiting Christopher in the basement that evening, I was a good wife and seduced Carl. The good news is that he didn't hurt my still-healing pussy at all. The bad news... You guessed it. I barely felt him. It's quite possible that the dildo and my son had ruined sex with my husband in perpetuity. I gave Carl my most valiant fake orgasm that night, but I was relieved when the five-minute session ended.
~~
The next morning, the tension with Christopher ratcheted up.
"I'm hanging out with Gwen at her place again today." Christopher's eyebrows knitted.
This was a challenge to me. I could feel it. I wondered if Gwen's mother had caught her eighteen-year-old daughter doing it with Christopher. It's not like they were all that quiet about it. I wondered where in Gwen's house the teenagers smashed.
"Mom?" Christopher paused by the door again, backpack on. "I said I'm going to Gwen's place after school."
"That's fine, honey." I sipped my coffee.
"I'm just telling you, because..." He trotted back to me. "I don't have to go over to Gwen's," he whispered. Christopher looked around for his father, but Carl was still upstairs. "We could hang out this afternoon."
I wanted to do a touchdown dance, but smiled sweetly instead. Take that little Miss Perfect Girlfriend. I was running up the score on Gwen. That young woman, with the perfect, perky body couldn't compete. "I'll tell you what, Christopher. I have a volunteer meeting with the parks commission this afternoon. I'll pick you up after school."
"Isn't he a little old for a school pickup?" Carl walked into the kitchen and made his way to the breadbox.
"I'm just spending a little time with my son, dear. That okay with you?" I took another sip of coffee and watched Christopher turn beet red.
"Yeah, I guess." Carl was too busy with his bagel to notice Christopher's discomfort. "When I was his age, I don't think I missed any chance to spend time with a girl. But if he wants to ditch Gwen for his mother..." My husband shrugged.
My smile was so wide I thought my cheeks might burst. Even Carl, in his own way, was making the point that I'd beaten Gwen.
"See you after school." I watched Christopher rush out the door, moving awkwardly with what I assumed was a painful boner.
I then sent Carl off to work and went about a chore-filled day. I was first in the pickup line when the bell rang. I spotted Christopher and waved. He had a stupid smile on his face. He kissed Gwen goodbye, and rushed over to my car. He hopped in the passenger seat and buckled up.
"Hi, Mom!" His big, dumb smile hadn't left his face. If he wasn't careful, Gwen might start to get suspicious. I could see her standing and watching us with her arms crossed. She didn't seem pleased. As I pulled the car away from the curb, I gave her a little friendly wave. Just stealing your boyfriend for the afternoon.
"Hello, sweetie. How was your day?" I pulled the car out into traffic.
"I thought... um... I mean... after we did it, you didn't come to my room the last two nights. I thought... that I'd done something wrong. Are you mad?" The words spilled out of Christopher.
"I'm sorry I put you through that." I frowned at him and took my hand of the steering wheel to pat his knee. I wasn't sorry. This afternoon was the payoff. "I was just really sore and needed a break from the whole thing."
His face fell. "So, we're on a break from all that stuff?"
"We were." I squeezed his knee. "But I'm not so sore anymore, so..." I let my fingers trace up his thigh. Taking a quick peek, I could see he was hard in his shorts already.
"All the way?" Christopher looked so hopeful. "With a condom, I mean," he added when I didn't respond right away.
"We'll see how it plays out." I turned my car into the dirt road, and then made a quick turn into an old, secluded parking lot.
"What's this?" He looked around in surprise.
"I thought it would be fun to make a stop on our way home. This park's closed because of a sinkhole. No one comes back here now." My hand moved up to his dick and squeezed it through his shorts. I really was reliving my teenage years. I vividly remembered making out in abandoned parking lots all those years ago. "We haven't ever kissed, sweetie. I mean, like we would if I was your girlfriend. You ever think about that?"
"Um... yeah." He nodded, blushing again.
"Am I pretty enough to steal a kiss from you? Prettier than Gwen?" I leaned my face toward him, massaging his cock through his shorts.
"You're prettier than Gwen, Mom." He leaned in.
We were tentative at first. Our lips touched. We pecked a few times. But soon, my tongue was in his mouth, and he groped at my boobs through my sweater. We were making out like teenagers.
"Mind... if I... join... you?" I crawled over to him, and got between his legs on the floor, pulling his shorts and underwear off him. I settled on my knees on the floor mat and took his cock in both hands. "Let's play a little game. I'm going to work you for a little while. If you can hold it for fifteen minutes, you get to put it in me again." I knew this would be easy for him, but, of course, I wanted him to win. "If you cum in my mouth, no sex today. Deal?"
"Um... sure..." He clutched at the car's seat as I went to work with a slow, sloppy blowjob.
After a few minutes, I felt his body go rigid.
"Mom, there's some lady walking her dog." He put his hand in my hair and pulled me off his cock.
"Does she see us?" I looked up at him, still pumping his dick with my hands. He had me so riled up, my brain hadn't processed the danger we were in. Rather than panic, it felt delightfully wicked that some woman might get the surprise of the year if she got too nosy. Spit dripped down my chin, but I didn't care.
"I... don't think so." Christopher looked like he was in a bit of a panic, bless his heart. He and Gwen probably didn't do naughty things in public. I remembered that Carl and I messed around behind a restaurant once a long time ago. It wasn't as exciting as this. Not by a long shot.
"What do you think she'd do if she saw us?" I lazily stroked him and looked around for the best place to have sex. It wasn't quite fifteen minutes yet, but my son deserved his prize.
"She'd call the police." Christopher looked down at me in wonder.
"Is she heading our way?" I pulled the condom I'd brought out of my purse. "We wouldn't want her to see what happens next." I undressed, dropping my clothes on the floor. These games Christopher and I played really made me reckless.
"She's walking away. She didn't see us."
"Let's move to the back." I smacked Christopher's bare but as he crawled into the backseat. I followed him and sat next to him. "It's not roomy, but it will do." I removed the condom from its foil and rolled it onto his dick. "Ready?" I crawled onto his lap. He still had on his shirt, so I tugged it over his head and tossed it on the floor with my clothes.
"I'm... ready." Christopher swallowed like his throat was very dry. It was so cute.
"I'm still a little sore after last time, so I'm going to start slow." I reached between my legs and guided him in. I wasn't true to my words. Within a minute, I rode him hard. I hit my head on the car's ceiling several times and eventually had to hug my son's shoulders and place my head next to his to keep from giving myself a concussion. Other than my head, nothing hurt this time. My pussy had adjusted to him.
If that dog walker had been a little later on her outing, she surely would have noticed the car rocking back and forth. I wondered if she'd take another route home. She didn't.
Just as I was coming down from my second orgasm, I looked out the side window and locked eyes with a blonde woman walking her dog. Her mouth was a rictus of surprise as she stared at me. I didn't recognize her, thank God. My hips never stopped. She didn't know it, but this woman was witnessing a mother slowly outcompeting her son's girlfriend. A rush of pride and ecstasy swept through me. Her dog tugged on the leash, and the woman quickly walked away. It won't surprise you to learn that I had the most intense orgasm of my life moments later.
I rode Christopher so hard I thought I might break the backseat. The sun was setting by the time his telling low growl filled the car. "Go ahead, sweetie," I whispered in his ear.
"Oh... ughhhh... Mom." His hands gripped my ass tight. He pinned me down on him, halting the progress of my hips, and he unloaded. It was pure joy.
After some time, I pulled off him and gingerly sat next to him. I hoped I wasn't dripping too much. At least I hadn't had the flood again. "That was magical, Christopher." I pulled off the condom and put it in the little baggie I'd brought in my purse.
"Yeah." He was still breathing too hard to say much. The smile on his face spoke volumes. I cuddled up next to him and put my head on his shoulder, gently stroking his hard chest. That postcoital moment almost matched the sex in its perfection. We didn't say anything. We didn't have to. I never wanted that afternoon to end. But it was getting dark outside.
"Let's get home. Your father shouldn't come back to an empty house." I sat up and bent to retrieve my clothes, but his hands were quickly on my hips.
Still without words, he put me on all fours in the backseat. He got behind me.
"Wait. I didn't bring two condoms. And we have to... uuuugggghhhhhhh... get back to... ooooohhhhhhh." In that position, he smacked up against my cervix again, harder than when I was on top. The pain returned to my pussy. "Wait... uh... uh... we should... ugh... ughhhhh." The pain morphed into a brand-new pleasure. I had no more words of protest.
My son humped me like a bitch in the backseat of my car for a long time. He even took hold of my hair at one point, a trick I'm sure he learned with Gwen. I lost all track of space and time. I went from one howling climax to the next as night settled around us. Finally, he pulled out and sprayed my back and ass. I collapsed on the seat, a quivering, mewling mess.
As I regained my composure, I could hear him dressing next to me. I sat up and he handed me my clothes. We dressed in silence. When I felt fit enough to drive, I crawled back into the front seat and started the car.
"I'm sorry about the second time without a condom, Mom. You just looked too good." Christopher climbed into the passenger seat. He was still smiling ear-to-ear. I didn't detect much apology in his tone. That was okay. As long as he pulled out in time, there wasn't really any harm. And, I couldn't deny it, I'd loved knowing his bare cock was inside me.
"Don't worry about it." I pulled the car out of the parking lot. My back and butt were sticky with cum under my clothes. "What are we going to tell your father?"
"He knows you picked me up today. We'll just say... we were hanging out." Christopher shrugged and buckled up.
Hanging out indeed.