A Mother's Passion

Since my son turned eighteen, I've noticed his attention more and more frequently. His attention to my body that is. I'm proud of my figure and have always received plenty of notice from men and women. Having my own boy look at me with that familiar twinkle in his eye however, was not something I had not anticipated or ever considered. When it first started happening, it made me quite uncomfortable and I thought it was just a phase he was going through, so I simply ignored it for the most part. At some point my feelings toward his curious stares changed and I started to like the attention. I never really consciously did anything to prompt his advances at first and felt very ashamed when I began to get aroused by the idea that my son was thinking of me sexually.

I don't recall when it was that I finally gave myself permission to enjoy the looks, but when I did, it was like unleashing a tornado. The thought of him masturbating with me in his mind was such a naughty thing for me to imagine and the fact that it was so wrong, somehow made the whole idea even hotter. I do remember the first time I decided to deliberately tease him. It was about a month after his ninteenth birthday. At first I just thought about it and would finger myself to orgasm at night as I fantasized about walking around in front of him in lingerie. In retrospect it seems rather tame, but the first time was so exhilarating that I can hardly describe the feelings within me.

My nipples are so long and prominent that I never went without a bra in public or around the house. They stand out like beacons and are very obvious. One night when I was extra horny I decided to change into my nightgown early and wear it around him. It's long and black satin with thin spaghetti straps. It seems innocent, but I had never let him see me like that since he was very small. He followed me around the house like a puppy dog and after a while I could see the outline of his erection in his pants. I felt naked and got so flustered that I rushed off to bed. I came very fast that night as I rubbed my clit and thought about the look on his face and his hard dick.

I felt guilty about it later and didn't do anything like that for a while, but the thoughts plagued my mind and I knew I had to feel that wild rush again. Each time I got a little bolder and the thrill of it grew into an obsession. I would wear the nightgown or leave the bathroom door open and let him catch me in my bra and panties. Each session would inevitably end with an explosive orgasm later as I masturbated in my room. A few times, I was sure that he was doing the same thing in his room and at the exact same time. The idea of him jacking off in the next room as I fucked my dildo drove me wild. I loved the new dirty feelings and I craved more, so I concocted a plan.

I decided that I would be dressed sexy for him when he got home from school. I planned it several days in advance and masturbated frequently as I imagined his reaction. When the day arrived, I was so unbelievably horny and nervous about it that I almost couldn't do it. What if he knew that I was doing it on purpose, how could I bear it. I concocted several excuses for my clothing if he asked and decided to tell him that I'd just bought some new things and had been trying them on when he got home. I even went so far as to leave an open box from a boutique in the living room to cover my tracks.

I felt very brazen and naughty as I prepared myself for the occasion that afternoon. I showered and shaved my legs and my pussy. All the while I was getting hornier and hornier because I knew that I wanted it more than anything in the world. I wanted to make my own young son so hard that he would have to jack off and think about fucking his mom. I fixed my shiny, black hair up just right and applied my make-up. I didn't over do it, but made sure that my full lips were very red and glossy. As I sat on my bed, bunching up my sheer, black, seamed nylons and drew them each up my legs, I could hardly resist the urge to make myself come right then and there. I knew that if I did, I'd lose my nerve and not go through with my perverted plan, so I continued the preparations.

I had bought a pair of particularly high, strappy, black heels some time ago that I had not had an occasion to wear. I slipped them onto my stockinged feet and attached the tiny clasps. I walked to my full length mirror and looked at myself standing otherwise naked. Oh my god, I thought, if he only new what I was doing right now. I was so wet by that time that I was literally dripping. I refrained from touching my swollen, protruding clit, but adjusted my stance so that my feet were wider apart and watched as a thin line of clear syrup slowly descended and dangled from my cunt. I felt so ashamed of myself as I started pinching my long, hard nipples. How could I face my friends and family if they knew what I was thinking and hoping for. I decided to humiliate myself further by not wiping away the mess that was running down my thighs as I turned and went to finish dressing.

I put on a black, satin shelf bra that lifted my heavy breasts, but left my protuberant nipples to show blatantly obvious through the thin, tight, cream colored sweater that I put on next. I went without panties and finished the outfit with a snug, black skirt which rested just above my knees. Suddenly, I heard the front door slam and my heart dropped. He was home earlier than usual and just as I looked over, he passed by my bedroom door on the way to the kitchen. He glanced over when he passed and caught my eye, then I heard him stop. He slowly backed up until he was standing in my doorway. "Uh, hey mom, what's up?" He said as his eyes scanned my frame.

"Oh, just trying on some new things I might wear out this weekend." I replied as I turned and faced him. "What do you think?"

His eyes locked on my up thrust breasts and excited nipples. "Wow, you..look really great mom." He stammered as he slowly walked in and sat on my bed.

"Aren't these shoes cute honey?" I queried, inviting him to look down as I leaned forward to tug on my nylons just above each knee. "I love them so much, I think I'll leave them on for a while." I continued without looking up at him. He said nothing, but sat motionless and intent as I brazenly lifted my skirt to fuss with each of my garter clasps. I felt so nasty and wicked and kinky, posing like that in front of him. I couldn't look him in the eye, I felt so naughty, but I turned and before I fully thought about it I said with my back to him; "Are my seams straight baby?" My face instantly flushed red and I wanted to take the words back. I closed my eyes and drew a breath but he said nothing. I opened my eyes and caught his reflection in my vanity mirror. His mouth was open and he was looking at me with intense hunger. "Well, are they?" I persisted.

"Oh, um..yeah, they look really good mom. Um, god, I mean..they look straight. Yeah." He stuttered as he reached for a pillow and pulled it up to his lap.

"Good." I said as I walked toward the vanity with the knowledge that his dick was getting hard. I felt shaky as I studied the unmistakable expression on his face and his eyes followed my every move. I put one knee up onto my vanity stool and leaned forward and grabbed my lipstick. Resting my weight with my left hand on the vanity, I started applying the gloss to my parted lips with the other. I gave him ample time to study my ass and legs as I remained bent over for him. I almost died when I saw his left hand reach for his crotch under the pillow. I felt as if he knew that I wasn't wearing any panties. I slowly exaggerated my position until my legs were open wider, my back was arched and my ass was thrust out for him.

The room was electric with sex and I took my time pretending to fix my hair and make-up. I wondered if he could smell the scent of my arousal as I saw his arm begin to move under the pillow. My son was jacking off through his shorts as he watched me. My body was on fire and my clit was so hard I could barely stand it. I knew that he could see the tops of my stockings and I wanted to lift my skirt over my ass and show my son how soaked my pussy was. Instead, I bent over even further and reached down to open the bottom drawer of my vanity, leaving my ass waiving in the air. My skirt climbed up the backs of my thighs until the pale flesh above my hose was showing. I wondered if he could see the slime that coated the insides of my thighs as I fumbled around in the drawer. My god it felt so nasty acting that way in front of him. Doubled over like a slut, waiting to get fucked.

When I couldn't stay in that position another second without being blatantly obvious, I returned to the mirror and said; "You must be starving honey. Let mommy fix you something to eat." When he noticed that I was looking at him, his hand stopped moving and his face turned beet red.

"Um, O.K." He replied, looking away quickly.

When I stood up and started walking across the room, we were both astonished at the way my ample tits jiggled and bounced, hanging freely out over the top of my bra as they were. It was so lewd and obvious. "C'mon sweetheart, let's take care of you." I declared as I grabbed his free hand and pulled him up off of the bed, forcing him to discard his pillow cover. I didn't look back at him, but I knew that he must have been embarrassed at holding onto my hand as I led him to the kitchen with a full erection.

I released his hand when we got to the dining room and told him to have a seat at the table while I fixed him a snack to tide him over until dinner. We made nervous small talk and little eye contact as I busily prepared his sandwich, but his attention was constantly focused on my ample body. At one point, my back was turned to him as I reached for a plate in an upper cabinet and he said rather awkwardly; "Um, mom, I think I was wrong...I mean..I don't think they're straight. Your...seams I mean."

I froze for a moment and stood still with my hands still stretched up on the cabinet. Before the impact of his words fully registered, I asked; "Do you want to help me honey? Come and fix mommy's hose."

He said nothing, but I heard his chair creak and the terrible excitement of his footsteps toward me. I had just invited my own son to feel my legs and play with my nylons. I stood rigid with anticipation as he knelt down behind me. I knew that my calves must have looked very sexy, hiked up as I was on my 5 inch heels. I almost jumped out of them when I felt his fingers tugging at the reinforced nylon that led up the back of my ankle. It was all happening so fast and was thrilling beyond any fantasy I had concocted. He spent a moment to rub the hose together between his thumb and forefinger, obviously savoring the silky texture before pulling it gently up and then smoothing it and shifting it around my ankle.

My mind was telling me to stop this before it got out of hand, but my body rebelled and remained motionless, save for the quickening pace of my breath. My son ran his eager hands around my shoes, feeling them momentarily before letting them travel further up my calves. I parted my legs slightly to accommodate his exploration as he tugged and shifted my hose. Unconsciously, my left hand moved from the cabinet and found my right breast. I knew he couldn't see what I was doing from his vantage point and that he was fully engrossed in his fondling. I boldly began to pinch on my nipple as I felt his fingers on the front and back of my knees. Bolts of electric sensation seared through me as twisted and pulled at the long, hard and rubbery protrusion. I could feel the warm wetness draining from my aching cunt and could do nothing to stop it now without ending our game.

A wild mixture of humiliation and incestuous desire racked my mind as I did the unthinkable. I suddenly reached down and pulled up at the sides of my skirt until my hem was above the dark tops of my stockings. I could smell the familiar scent of my horny pussy as urged him on. "Go on honey, do the rest. Feel the tops of mommy's stockings." A soft, uncontrolled moan escaped my lips as realized the reality of my whorish request and I felt his strong hands begin to knead and caress my inner thighs. I held my skirt high with one hand in front while I began to relieve my other nipple of it's neglect. I could feel the hot oils dripping down my leg. I knew that he could see it and I wanted it. God help me I WANTED it.

His fingers played up and down the length of each leg until I thought I would scream. I noticed that occasionally there would be only one hand on me and that he was squeezing his rigid cock with the other. Each time his hand reached upward, his fingers came closer to the tops of my vintage stockings until I finally felt his warm touch at the sensitive skin above them. My legs began to quake uncontrollably as his fingertips made contact with the slippery expulsions a few inches above the tops of my hose. When he hesitated from the obvious surprise, I lost my nerve and dropped my skirt.

"Th...that's good baby." I breathed. "You'd better go sit..down now and I'll finish making your snack." He rose silently and went back to his chair. I grabbed a plate and ducked behind the kitchen wall to compose myself. "Oh my god." I whispered quietly to myself as I struggled to comprehend what had just taken place. I finished his meal and eagerly strode around the corner with the plate. He was now seated close to, and facing the table with one hand in his lap as I approached. Again I was aware of the exaggerated bouncing of my tits as I struggled to walk normally in my high heels. I knew he was fondling himself under the table and when I reached him, my rigid nipples were right at eye level. He made no pretense to look away and seemed to be oblivious to the fact that I could see his arm moving under the table.

I leaned forward and sat the plate on the table in front of him, but my focus was on how close I could flaunt my wobbling boobs to his face as I did. The low 'V' neck of my knit top framed the bulging flesh of my trussed breasts nicely as my long, vulgar nipples stretched the thin fabric into prominent points at the front. "You don't think mommy's too heavy for this top do you honey." I asked as I pushed in at the sweater under my boobs and my eyes fixed on the tablecloth above his lap.

"God no m..mom. You look really good." He blurted.

"You're sweet." I replied as I ran my fingers through his hair and drew his head into my chest. My left breast pushed into his cheek as my right nipple grazed along his lips. In a thousand other homes across the world it would have been an innocent hug, but at that moment in my house it was the unholy embrace of a mother and son desperate to suck and fuck each others cum. I held him close for a moment and relished the feeling of my erect nipple pressed against his mouth as he rubbed his dick. I kissed the top of his head and broke the embrace. I turned on my heels and walked to the other end of the table where I seated myself opposite to him. He took a bite of his sandwich but his other hand remained under the table.

A nasty thought entered my mind and I acted on it instantly. He couldn't see it, but I spread my legs as wide as I could under the table. I was making some ridiculous small talk. I have no idea what I said as I sat facing my boy with my legs wide open. My hand dropped under the table and I adjusted my skirt until it was at my waist. I looked directly at him as I pushed two fingers into my gaping, wet pussy and then withdrew them to swirl the thick cream around my extended clitoris. I smiled at him and brought my hand up to my mouth and pressed my fingertips to my lips as I placed my chin in my palm and my elbow on the table. Feeling utterly wicked, I put my other hand under the table and started circling the tip of my stiff clit with my middle finger. "Is it good honey?" I asked daringly.

"Wha..?" He replied with surprise.

"Your sandwich. How is it?" I clarified.

"Uh, oh yeah, it's great." He mumbled hypnotically.

"Mmmm." I murmured, with my fingers tracing my lower lip. We both sat silently for a few minutes. The tension was delicious and excruciating as we sat facing each other, masturbating. Judging by the look on his face, I thought he might come in his pants right then. I wanted to prolong my little game, so I decided to break the moment. I adjusted my skirt and was about to stand up when his napkin dropped to the floor and he leaned down to pick it up. Instinctively I closed my legs, but hesitated and then slowly spread my knees apart just as his head disappeared under the table. Feeling utterly whorish, I stuck out my tongue in a lewd gesture as I exhibited my glistening, naked cunt to my son. I dropped my right hand and slid my thumb under the top of the nylon on my right thigh. I grasp the silky hose and pulled it away from my leg as I fondled it teasingly. All boundaries of family decency were discarded as I reveled in the pleasure of exposing myself to him. He took his time fumbling around with his napkin, until he finally emerged with beads of sweat on his forehead.

Without speaking, I arose unsteadily and walked over to collect his plate. I put my left hand on his muscular shoulder as I bided my time picking crumbs up from the table and placing them on his plate. All the while, dangling my swinging boobs near his face. I knew that he was dying to see my nipples and I needed to find a way to let him without ripping my shirt off right then and there. I'm surprised that I didn't, considering the events of the past half hour and the state of my arousal. "This top is too small for me isn't it?" I remarked casually. "I need help with my outfit baby. Will you help mommy find another blouse to wear?"

He nodded as he gawked in disbelief at my request. I took his plate to the sink and started heading for my room. He sat motionless, so I stopped and turned to him. "Well come on honey, help me find something nice." He sprang to his feet and followed me into my room. As he took a seat on my bed and grabbed his trusty pillow, I went into my closet which was directly in front of him, and started pushing clothes hangers back and forth. I found a sheer, black, button up blouse and held it up for him. When he nodded enthusiastically, I removed it from the hanger and laid it across the rack of clothing, then turned my back to him and pulled my sweater over my head and off. I stood and fluffed my hair for a minute to prolong the anticipation and then turned just enough, so that he would be able to just make out the side of my upturned breast as I grabbed the black top.

I slipped it on with my back to him and fastened a few buttons on the bottom, then turned to face him as I stepped forward to ask his opinion. The blouse was hanging open in front and just covered my nipples, but afforded him a generous view of the white fleshy inner slopes of my boobs and my tummy beneath. When he again nodded his approval, I took the opportunity to lean forward and pull up my stockings. I knew that he could see one of my nipples now for the first time and a shiver went down my spine from the thrill of it. I took a few more steps until I was right in front of him. "This damn garter." I exclaimed as I leaned forward again and lifted my skirt to adjust the clasp. Now my left breast was dangling and fully exposed as I deliberately offered my straining nipple to his greedy stare. "Can you help me with this thing?" I said. "I just can't get it to stay in place."

I remained in my leaning position and held up my stocking as he reached in to reattach the clasp. My bare nipple hung just a few inches from his face now and I was so excited and horny that I began to tremble. Goose bumps rose on my arms and tits and my nipples grew even longer as he watched. As he played around my thigh, the pillow slipped from his lap and fell to the floor. His hard dick was situated down his right thigh and flexed out, long and thick against his loose pants. I almost gasp at the sight of it as I marveled at the visible ridge at the head. I felt that I might lose control any second and climb onto him, I was so conflicted. Finally the garter clasp was fastened and I pulled the front of my top together in a show of false modesty. I went to the mirror and turned from side to side as if checking my appearance. I could see him in the reflection, pressing down at the front of his pants as he watched me.