He Had Just Started College

Zachary, like so many young men, had a habit wearing an old, ratty pair of grey sweatpants when he was home. He had a lot of nice clothes but always seemed to prefer the sweatpants. Every chance I got, I would wash them. Often, he would fall asleep on the couch, wearing only those sweatpants. I would cover him with a blanket, leave a bottle of water on the side table and watch him sleep for a few minutes before I headed off to bed. Some nights, I could not help but notice the pronounced "tent" in his pants as he slept and I wondered what he was dreaming of. He looked so sweet, angelic and innocent as he slept. While he was just a houseguest, I began to think of him as a son. He was becoming my wonderful baby boy and I was becoming his mother. He was not only beginning to see me as his surrogate mother but also the center of his most libidinous apparitions.

While the maternal feelings and my ravenous yearnings to be the object of his desire conflicted one another, I felt a summation of emotions that seemed to balance well. As the weather warmed and my body hardened, my wardrobe at home became more and more revealing. At night my robes were shorter and during the day, a sports bra, as a top, became common attire. His innocent eyes watched my body as I moved and my lips as I spoke. He was captivated and I was obsessed. I even fantasized about leaving my shower door cracked, just a little, to give him a show if he wanted to peek. I wasn't ready for that but the thought of being voyeuristic for him made me crazy!

Whenever he was lounging his those old sweatpants, I really stepped up my game. it was obvious, he wore them without underwear and instantly, I knew if I had his attention. There was always a moment where he couldn't quite hide his growing manhood and he was good at hiding it quickly. He concentrates so hard, trying to make it subside, so I won't notice, but that just makes me move closer to him, touch his leg and flirt a bit. Smile and flash him my best seductive grin just to enjoy watching my virgin houseguest squirm. I want him to have to touch it and think of me the instant he is alone. In the deep, dark recesses of my wicked and depraved psyche, sometimes, I wanted to touch it too. I generally dismissed those thoughts as fleeting but they came more and more frequently. He had never even kissed a girl and he was looking at me with an adorably awkward lust that I could not get enough of!

I did not want him to move home with his mom during the summer. I called Jane and suggested Zachary take summer classes and she, to my surprise, agreed. Jane was enjoying having an empty nest. My youngest would be home all summer but he works a lot and spends time with his friends and probably girls too. He also felt that Zachary was a nerd and didn't really like him. He wouldn't get in my way. Zachary had very few friends and had likely never even tried to flirt with a girl, so we could spend plenty of time together. I was already planning on doing lots and lots of sunbathing. Of course, Zachary wouldn't mind rubbing sunblock on my back. He's a good boy. We would have quite a bit of time alone and I wanted to use the warm weather to show my body to him. I was aching to feel him crave me. It was delightful how he could look at me as both a mother and an object of his ever-growing desire. I didn't know what I wanted from my adventure but I was sure of the fact that I wanted more.

As his semester wrapped up, Zachary spent most of his free time preparing for finals. I briefly had to stop being such a profligate and naughty nurturer and let him study. This gave me time to plan the ways I might garner his attention later. I flipped through catalogs and ordered items for my new summer wardrobe. I wanted to be able brandish my body for his young, unblemished mind to enjoy. I imagined his mind being totally pure and free of any perverse thoughts before moving here, and now, I had the privilege of corrupting him. The thought of appearing to be just going about my day while, the whole time, allowing his eyes to feast on me was a thrill beyond anything I could have imagined.

Things changed one night as I prepared for bed. Zachary was relaxing on the love seat, donning his old sweatpants and I traipsed in behind him. Before I could even question myself, I leaned down and wrapped my arms around him. I could see his pants tighten as his friend sprung to life. He couldn't lift his leg fast enough to hide it. I placed my lips to his ear and in my most sultry voice whispered "Zachy, I'm going to bed. Turn the lights off when you turn in. Good night." His entire body nervously tightened and I had to suppress a giggle. I then, exhaled gently through my nose, softly pecked his ear with my lips and felt his heart pounding under my arm and, as I strutted toward my room, he never made a sound.

I laid on my soft bed, feeling the cool air blowing over me in the dark and my mind enjoyed only one thought. He was in the next room, thinking about me and fantasizing about me. He didn't need porn or a girlfriend, I was sure, he only thought about me and I never wanted that to end. I constantly brainstormed ways to keep his attention on me and drive him wild. He loved staring at his phone and at his video games but I wanted him to stare at me more. I felt like the most unrestrained, raptorial, wanton mother figure ever, and I loved it.