A Tryst for Christmas

The saying goes that we all have secret thoughts that would shame the devil. Celestine and her son Colin had fantasized about fucking each other for years. Finally, one magical Christmas, they realized their fantasy.

All characters engaged in any sexual activity are at least 18 years old.

Chapter 01

It was a warm December evening on the West Coast when Colin Mack stepped from the Uber in front of his parents' home. He hadn't been home in eight months, and in the 12 years he had been in the Army, he hadn't returned a dozen times.

He smiled as he surveyed the Georgian, sitting on a bluff overlooking the town below. Although a light rain was falling, the Christmas lights added a festive air to the coastal California town.

He fumbled in his pocket and retrieved his key. His smile broadened as he unlocked the door. This visit would be a surprise for his parents. Not only was his enlistment over, he would be spending Christmas at home. This was the first Christmas at home in nearly four years.

"Hullo! Anybody home?"

Colin Mack stood just inside the open door of his parents' house. The house was dark, which was unusual for this time of year. Usually, it was adorned with Christmas lights.

"Back here, Colin!"

He made his way toward his mother's voice through the darkened house. A sense of foreboding washed over him. He knew his parents were having difficulty in their 30-year marriage. Even though they denied it, he sensed the tension during his last leave.

Colin, 30, suspected his father was philandering. He heard rumors from friends he stayed in touch with. It was hard for him to understand how his father could want any woman other than his mother. He thought she was the hottest woman ever.

Since puberty, she was the star of his masturbation fantasies. Over the years, he shot quarts of cum in tissues, his socks, and, just before he enlisted in the Army, in her soiled panties, he stole from her hamper.

"Why are you sitting here in the dark, " he asked, flipping on the light above the wet bar.

Celestine Mack, 47, sat at the six-stool bar. In one hand, she held an 8-ounce tumbler partially filled with amber liquid and melting ice cubes. A half-liter of Bushmills Irish whiskey sat next to her.

Her appearance was disturbing. Her hair hung in greasy strings over her forehead like a rat's nest. On one side, it was plastered to her face, forming a bedhead.

Colin speculated she had been sitting at the bar for some time. She drank until she passed out, then woke up and continued her dissipation.

Celestine's eyes were red-rimmed, watery, and unfocused. She was barefoot. The polish on her toe and fingernails were cracked and peeling.

She wore only a knee-length pink silk robe that hung open, exposing her 38D breasts. Her feet were on the barstool's footrest, with her legs spread at the knees. Colin could see the unruly thicket of her greying pubic thatch with her butterfly pussy lips poking out. Despite himself, his cock stiffened in his khaki shorts.

"Merry fucking Christmas, son, " she said derisively.

The liquid splashed out on the tiled inlaid bar when she held her glass up in a mock toast.

"What the hell is going on, momma? "

"Come on! Hug your mother!"

When she turned on the barstool and attempted to stand, she stumbled and staggered forward. Colin caught her in his arms, saving her from a nasty fall.

His mother's bare breasts pressed against his lower chest, with her head resting on his chest. Her legs were partially bent and on either side of his leg. Her thick bush was scratchy on the bare skin below his khaki shorts. Colin's semi-hard cock was pressed against her bare lower belly.

"Momma, you're a fucking mess! Where's Dad? "

He hugged her tightly, concerned for her well-being welling in him.

Despite this, he relished the warmth of her body. She was his mother, the most important woman in his life. Like with most men, she was his fantasy woman. She was the ideal against which all other women were measured.

Celestine was the reason for Colin's lifelong penchant for older, full-figured women. He inhaled her arousing womanly scent, tinged with alcohol and perspiration odor.

"He's gone! " Her chin trembled, and tears began running down her cheeks. "Your father informed me this morning that he's spending Christmas with some bitch he's fucking from his office. He says he's moving out after New Year's. "

"That cheating bastard! I'll put my foot in his ass! "

"No, baby, no! Let him go! He's still your father. "

Celestine embraced her son tightly with her sagging breasts pressed into his chest. She felt the bulge of his cock against her abdomen. She was aware of the pressure of his bare thigh on her bare sex.

Sober, she would have quickly stepped back and tied her robe. Drunk, she clung to him.

This strapping man was the fetus she carried in her womb. He was the baby who suckled at her breasts. She watched him grow into the man his father used to be. He was 6' 2" of lightly muscled man. His dark eyes and auburn hair were like his father's at that age.

Her alcohol-soddened brain recalled better days. She and Tom Mack, his father, used to fuck like bunnies. They even did some swinging.

Tom, her husband, loved to hear her squeal when another man fucked her. However, over the years, the swinging and sharing stopped. From near-nightly sex, it dwindled to weekly, then monthly. At 47, it had been more than three years since they fucked.

Colin grasped his mother's shoulders and pushed her back to arm's length. His mother wasn't the proverbial older woman with the body of a twenty-year-old. She was overweight with a wrinkled belly pooch left over from childbirth.

"Here, let me tie your robe! A good-looking lady like you shouldn't be trying to entice her son with her sexy body. "

She looked up at him and smiled crookedly. "You're so full of shit! I'm an old fat drunk. "

"You're not old, and you're not fat! The term nowadays is curvy. You're like good wine, improving with age!"

She shivered when his hands brushed her breasts as he closed the robe. She felt a quiver in her abdomen when his hands touched it as he tied the robe.

Celestine's eyes moved from her son's hands, fumbling as he tied her robe to his handsome face. He was her secret passion. It was a sick passion, coming from a place inside her she was ashamed of. For years, she suppressed it.

Colin was at once aroused and ashamed of himself as he accidentally touched his mother's body.

"Look! We're not going to let him spoil our Christmas! We'll get a tree and decorate it like we used to. "

"OH, baby, I don't know! I don't feel Christmasy. "

When she reached for her glass, he pushed it away.

"Watch the drinking! " He decided to lighten the mood. "I might take advantage of you! "

She wrapped her arms around his waist, plastering her body to his so tightly it was painful.

"No, you wouldn't! You're my son. "

You wouldn't have to take advantage of me, she thought. You've been my fantasy man all of your life!

"Are the lights and ornaments still in the attic? "

"Yes, but they are so old. I'm not sure they're worth the trouble."

It was disconcerting to have his mother hug him so tightly. It reawakened his teenage fantasies about her. That voluptuous sexpot of his fantasies was this short, vulnerable woman. He affectionately patted her behind.

"I'll get the ornaments while you shower. We'll test them, then go to town and buy what we need."

"You'll never find them. I'll get the ornaments, then take my shower. "

She broke the embrace and stepped back. Her eyes wandered down to the substantial bulge in his shorts.

Did I cause that, she thought.

She knew her son would have a big cock when he was a baby. Even then, it was larger than average. Colin was hung like his father. Possibly larger!

She recalled him as a horny 18-year-old man-child. She discovered sticky loads of jizz in his socks. Ultimately, she found her soiled panties, encrusted with his cum, at the bottom of her clothes hamper.

The pungent scent made her so woozy that she indulged in a perversion. Though they were swingers then, it was a perversion she didn't even share with her husband.

She enjoyed leaning against the washing machine, fingering her pussy while licking Colin's cum from the crotch of her panties. She spontaneously came when she did. Several times she nearly passed out from the intensity of her orgasm while licking her son's dried cum from her panties.

"Come on! I'll show you where the ornaments are. "

Colin watched the roll of his mother's ass as he followed her down the hall. His buddies in the Army chased the pencil-thin anorexic women in the bars around the base. He preferred women like his mother, with meat on their bones and an ass and tits a man could bury his face and dick in

.

How would it feel to bury my face between those big thighs? To press my tongue into the pussy I came out of, to nurse again on those big jugs?

Celestine balanced herself with one hand on the wall as she walked. She was a functional drunk, able to navigate her familiar territory. Like all drunks, alcohol lowered her inhibitions. It allowed them to do things that were usually unthinkable.

She was an emotional wreck from losing her husband. That and all of the alcohol she drank left her vulnerable. The inhibitions that had prevented her from indulging her perversion were lowered. What seemed impossible before now was very likely.

She knew her son was staring at her butt as she walked down the hall. She even exaggerated the roll of her hips, putting on a real show. She always was a woman who liked men to appreciate her pulchritude even if that man was her son.

"Pull down that ladder."

She pointed at the hook in the ceiling. Pulling it would lower the ladder, allowing access to the attic.

Colin pulled the ladder down. Dust falling from the opening gave him a brief sneezing fit. When he recovered, his mother was climbing the ladder. He opened his mouth to chastise her, to stop her from risking climbing the ladder under the influence of alcohol.

He froze. He was looking up at his mother's hairy pussy. The meaty lips of her sex protruded through the unkempt rat's nest of her bush. His mouth went dry, and his cock got hard. His mouth opened and closed like a guppy.

"Momma, " he croaked. He stopped to clear his throat and moisten his lips.

"Yes, dear?"

Celestine stopped climbing, turned on the ladder, and looked down at her son.

His eyes were open wide. He was looking up, staring between her legs. In a moment of clarity, she realized he was staring at her pussy.

Tidal waves of emotions swept over her. The first emotion was embarrassment; mothers didn't expose themselves like this to their sons.

The next emotion was amusement. The old girl still had it. His father had lost interest, but his son still saw her as a desirable woman.

The last was lust. Her fantasy man was staring at her pussy. And if the size of the bulge in his shorts was any indication, he liked what he saw! Celestine's mouth went dry, and her pussy got wet. She swayed, losing her balance.

"Momma! Careful!"

Voyeurism turned to concern as his mother swayed on the ladder. Colin scrambled up a few rungs and wrapped his arms around her hips to prevent her from falling. His face was even with her pussy which emitted an intoxicating aroma.

Celestine's robe came open as she teetered on the ladder. Colin wrapped his arms around her legs to steady her on the ladder. His face pressed forward against her thighs, and his mouth inadvertently pressed against her wet sex. He pulled back quickly and licked his lips, tasting his mother's pussy on his lips for the first time.

"Gawdammit, Mom, you're drunk and shouldn't be climbing ladders! You're going to hurt yourself! Here, let me help you down. "

His voice was strident and overly loud. Colin was trying to compensate for his embarrassment. He had just kissed his inebriated mother's pussy.

What kind of pervert are you, he thought. You took advantage of your grief-stricken drunk mother!

Aided by her son, Celestine carefully descended the ladder with her robe hanging open. She was too drunk to cover herself. Besides, the lustful look on her son's face and the bulge in his shorts told her he enjoyed the view.

"Everything is up there," Celestine said, pointing up the ladder.

"You go shower! I can find the ornaments."

With one hand against the wall, Celestine staggered toward the bathroom. There was a decided tingle between her thighs. It suffused into her belly, causing it to quiver.

Her son, her baby, kissed her pussy! Had it happened? Or was she experiencing hallucinations? Sometimes, when she drank, she had weird dreams.

Colin smacked his lips, relishing the fading taste. He spat out a stray pubic hair, further evidence of the taboo he crossed. He recalled a time when his mother's pubic area was cleanly shaven.

He was 18 when he burst into his parents' bedroom. He could not recall what news he wanted to share, but it seemed important then.

His mother had just stepped from the shower. Water streamed through her canyon-like cleavage framed by the twin peaks of her breasts. Her nipples were hard and dark, looking like large raisins. Water ran in sheets over her belly pooch and then flowed through the vee of her thighs. It ran over her shaven Mons, dripping from her vaginal lips to the tiled floor.

Colin stood transfixed. His mother was the first naked woman he saw. The image imprinted on his mind. It forever fixed his vision of sexuality. For the rest of his life, he would favor mature full-figured women with shaved pussies.

His mother did not try to cover herself. She looked at him with an enigmatic smile.

"Always knock, Colin! Now, what do you want? "

Today, with countless women behind him, he knew the answer. It was 'You! I want you!' Instead, he was frozen. His mouth opened and closed repeatedly. He backed out of the bathroom, his news forgotten.

That incident also affected Celestine. She was never sure why she didn't cover herself. She recalled feeling...something ...as her son gawked at her nude body.

About this time, she discovered he was masturbating with her soiled panties. She sniffed her panties, imagining him with one pair of her panties held to his nose while he used another pair to stroke his cock.

That was the beginning of her perversion for his cum on her panties. She began wearing her underwear several days at a time. She discovered that the more fragrant they were, the larger the load he deposited in them. Eventually, she no longer just licked his cum from the crotch of her panties; she stuffed it in her mouth, eating it.

Her husband and their fuck buddies were the beneficiaries of her perversions. She rode their cocks like a wild woman. She was never fully sated anymore. She was obsessed with her son and his cum.

She had the usual misgivings about his safety when he announced he was enlisting in the Army. An additional concern was she would no longer be able to eat his cum from her panties.

She sometimes wondered if her unquenchable need drove her husband to leave her. Did he feel inadequate in the face of her unspoken voracious lust for her son?

Chapter 02

Later, Colin and Celeste drove down the mountain to the coastal town. It featured a large strip mall with a central plaza selling Christmas decorations and trees. The rains had let up, making for a beautiful central California evening.

It was warm for central California this time of year. Celestine wore cut-off jean shorts with a halter top and no panties or bra, allowing her breasts to swing freely.

She settled for closed-toe 4" stiletto heels. She hadn't painted her toes in weeks, and they looked it. The outfit emphasized the right parts of her body while concealing the worst parts.

She glanced over at Colin as he drove. He was chattering away, trying to raise her spirits. The long, hot shower had cleared her head.

Her feelings about her son were always confused. She loved being pregnant with him. It was the high point of her adult life. She treasured breastfeeding him. The sensations that permeated her body were a confusing mixture of motherly love and sexual arousal. She often had orgasms when she nursed him. She never shared that secret with anyone.

She resisted weaning him. Letting Colin suckle affirmed her love for him and strengthened the maternal bond. She didn't want to lose that. It took her husband's incessant pleading to make finally wean him. He was seven. Even after that, she soothed the crises in a seven-year-old life by letting him suckle.

Suck mommy's tits! That's all you need to do to cheer me up

.

Be that baby again, holding my tits in your small hands, your lips pursed, and your cheeks concave.

Celestine shifted her position in the truck. She hadn't worn panties, and the gusset of her shorts was wet and pulling between the lips of her engorged cunt. The friction against her clit was at one time irritating and arousing.

When Colin pulled the truck up to the fence, the Christmas tree lot was filled with customers. Christmas spirit filled the mild night air.

Celestine's was still high. Being with Colin lifted her spirits. He was with the most important person in her life.

Colin walked around to help his mother get out of the truck. She turned in the passenger seat, and he gripped her waist and lifted her down. Briefly, they were belly to belly, their lips inches from kissing. They stood awkwardly for a moment, neither brave enough to kiss the other. Then they turned and walked hand in hand up and down the rows, inspecting the trees.

At one point, Colin stood with his hands on his hips, inspecting a tree. His obsession with finding the perfect tree was like his father's, and Celestine was amused at the similarity.

She was having trouble concentrating on trees. Her eyes were fixed on her son's butt.

Colin had changed into skintight jeans. His muscular butt filled them to distraction. She imagined that butt driving his big dick into her pussy. Impulsively she smacked his ass.

"Momma! What the hell," He exclaimed, grabbing his rump with both hands.

"I couldn't resist, " she laughed.

Her laughter faded to a feigned look of fear as he stalked toward her, his arms raised to shoulder height, his fingers simulating claws.

"I will put you across my knee and spank your fat bottom for that! "

"You wouldn't dare! I'm your mother! What would all of these people think? "

I don't give a fuck what they think! Pull my shorts down! Spank my bare ass.

Celestine turned to run. Colin grabbed her around her waist and lifted her off the ground. She squealed, her legs kicking in the air, relishing his strong arms, embracing her. Her playful struggle caused her to slide down in his arms, and Colin's hands cupped her breasts.

Impulsively, Colin slipped one hand under her halter top and squeezed her breasts. His mother moaned and pressed her ass against his cock as he lowered her to the ground. He tweaked her nipple before he spun her around.

"OUCH! That hurt!"

The pain/pleasure of the nipple tweak suffused Celestine's body. Her already wet pussy flowed with her arousal.

"So, did your smack on my ass!"

Celestine and Colin were belly to belly for a moment, close enough that their breaths warmed their faces. They looked deep into each other's eyes, and their lips touched. Her hand slipped between them and caressed the bulge in his jeans while his hands pushed down the front of her jeans and he fingered her pussy.

"We should stop," Celestine gasped.

Her hips pumped as her son's index finger worked its magic in her honey hole. She managed to pull his zipper down and take his tool in her hand.