And You Thought This Would Be Easy 02

Ok before anyone starts saying anything crazy like: What your proposing is biologically impossible... The physiology of women doesn't allow for that... or My God can't this guy write anything but porn... The answer to all your questions are... Probably, I know, and No. This is fiction, and just like comic books depict over the top characters that none of us can ever grow up to be, I write fictional porn that exceeds norms. So upfront I am apologizing for my shortcomings – Grammar, Punctuation, Typo's, Spelling errors, and sentence structure – Just pick one and put it in the comments section. I have an Editor now goes by the name of benj4lyf, he's given this the once over and I'm just going to leave it at that, you and I both know he had his work cut out for him.

If you have read any of my other stuff, you know my faults and you know my particular writing biases. Ok that being said if the material I write offends, move on. There is a lot of crap on the Internet and if this isn't your particular flavour of crap, go find it, I'm sure its out there.

Now to the powers that be: all characters in this story are the ages they are supposed to be to make this stuff acceptable and palatable (Generally that's 18 & Up). Secondly none of this is real and none of this is based on anything that is real. Oedipus crap has been around since the dawn of time... Hell they wrote a play about it (The Greeks are just plain crazy). Further this isn't Shakespeare so please don't go looking for it in the pages I write, you'd offend me, you'd offend the Bard and you'll end up offending yourself.

Ok I'm done with my rant, so if you're still with me then continue reading. Oh yeah and one final thing. There is a first part to this story so you might want to read it before you read this, it's called: And You Thought This Would be (Easy) you might want read it first to understand how we got to this moment in time, or not strictly up to you.

I wasn't sure what I was doing. All I knew at the time was that I was horny, more horny than I had ever been thanks to my husband and I really wanted to be fucked. Moreover I wanted to be fucked by a big dick and the closest available one was a mere ten paces down the hall. At this point what trepidation I had vanished, again thanks to the maniacal manipulation of my husband. He had seen our son get pants earlier in the day, as did I, and all of my son's friends who had come to his annual year end bash. And now all my husband could think about was the size of our son's cock. Mind you even though it was flaccid, it was quite large, larger than my husband was hard and my husband's no slouch.

So as I approached Michael's bedroom door, my heart pounding in my chest, legs vibrating with lust and desire, I thought I could hear what sounded like crying. In that instant I panicked, my heart cracked and I opened the door thinking he had been more scarred from this afternoons incident than I had originally thought. I wanted to rush in there and sooth him, comfort him and tell him it was ok, everything would be alright. The instinct to protect my baby burned in me.

"Michael? Michael are you up baby? Are you ok?" I stated as I pushed open the door and rushed in, not prepared for what I would encounter. He didn't hear me, he'll he didn't even notice I had entered the room.

The scene before me was surreal. Michael was on his bed, lying on his back, muscular legs spread, his covers pulled down past his waist exposing the flat washboard abs of his stomach, which was covered in a sheen of sweat, his broad chest heaving, his head thrown back, eyes closed as he stroked his magnificent cock with his right hand. My god it was big.

It had to be almost as thick as a pop can; I'd never seen anything like it in my life. And long, if he had laid it across his stomach instead of up in the air as it was, it would've been way past his belly button; it looked like it could touch his chin. I couldn't imagine how he kept something like that hidden from us for all these years. God forgive me but I had to have that thing inside me, stretching me, pushing me to my limits, that's what my husband had wanted and now it's what I wanted.

His hands were slick, and shine in the light as was his cock. He had obviously been masturbating with a lube of some kind to produce that kind of shine. Everything glisten, even his balls, which were shaved. At first I didn't see any pubic hair, but as he slid his up and down his gorgeous shaft I noticed he had a small tuft just at the base of his cock, god it was sexy. I wanted to lick and suck his entire length, hold his balls in my mouth, suck the head of his cock as it expelled the sensual fluids that would soon be filling every orifice I had.

He was lost in the moment as he stroked his shaft. His right hand sliding up and down, from the base of his balls to the bulbous head. His left hand was at that end of his cock squeezing it tightly in what was likely an attempt to prolong his impending orgasm. A barrage of dirty talk was escaping his lips and I couldn't believe what he was saying, it both thrilled and frightened me. I could feel my nipples harden as I looked on, my pussy was already a sopping mess and for an instant I thought the site of him would make me cum.

"Oh fuck mom, take my cock. God that's it suck my cock like you do dad's."

Yes, he was lost in what appeared to be a sensory over load, "Oh god yes, take that big cock get it ready for you. You know you want it. Fuck it like dad said you would."

It was evident he had been listening to his father's and my sex talk and it had him riled beyond belief, as he continued his sexual tirade, "Fuck it all the way in you like a slut, like my slut."

By the tone of his voice and his choice of words, I could see that apples didn't fall too far from the tree. "Yeah my slut. That's it, that's it. Be my slut. Be my slut mom, my slut mom. Oh god. Oh god yeah!"

And the scary thing about all of this was that I liked it, I wanted it and it had me oh so very aroused. My cunt had never been wetter and my nipples were so hard they hurt. I couldn't wait to fulfill his desires, to be his slut, to have him buried deep inside me, driving wild with his phallus. I wanted this, no I needed this, I would be his wanton whore, if that's what he wished. He was so caught up in what he was doing he was unaware that I had breached the door and was now starring at him as he stroked that huge phallus.

I was mesmerized, transfixed, focused on that magnificent pillar of flesh. It had to be at least twelve inches long at least, there was no way it was shorter than a foot and as I said almost as thick as a pop can, I knew I would just be able to get my hand around it and thankfully take at least some of him in my mouth and hopefully down my throat. He did have a bottle of lube on his night stand, which he had used to slick his cock up to, masturbate with. Oh god did it shine in the limited light of his room. It looked even more ominous than the time I had first seen it at the pool.

I wanted to walk in and drop my housecoat and climb onto his bed. I wanted to take his cock in my hands as I straddled him and slide him deep inside me. My sick bastard of a husband was right, I wanted to fuck my son. I wanted his big beautiful cock fucking me until I couldn't walk straight or until he could no longer get it up, which I was hoping would take a very long time. I knew there would be no coming back from this and I was at once excited by that prospect and scared.

I backed out of his room and shut the door. I tried to ensure the handle made as little noise as possible as the door shut into place. Steeling my nerves I took a deep breath and knocked. "Michael are you up?"

"Yes, I'm up mom," He sounded startled and I could hear him shuffling and fumbling around. He would most definitely be trying to make himself presentable for fear I would simply walk in once I had announced myself. Unlike his father I had long given up that practice, which was likely why I had no idea of his monstrous appendage.

"Can I come in baby?" I tried to keep my voice steady and controlled in an attempt hide from giving off any sign of the nervous tension I was feeling at my core. I took a deep breath and steadied myself as I waited for his reply.

"I'm in bed mom."

"We're you sleeping?"

"No." He was at least being honest. I wondered how honest he'd be once I entered his room. Could we both be honest and admit what it was we secretly desired from the other. I knew I was certainly going to try.

"So can I come in baby, please?"

"Yes, ok." He was clearly uncomfortable. I don't know whether it was from the events of the day or the fact that he was in bed, naked under his sheets and I'd just interrupted him masturbating about his mom. I imagine it was a combination of both. I came out from behind the door and entered his room. I could smell the teenage musk of boys as I entered. I knew that smell, sweat, puberty, and cum. I could definitely smell cum, strong virile boy cum. I must have been too overwhelmed the first time I opened his door to notice. However, this time upon entering his room I noticed the ever-present scent and truth be told, it made me wet.

"Baby are you alright?" I asked my voice trembling as I approached his bed. The butterflies in my stomach were working overtime. I knew that once I entered his room there would be no stopping what was about to happen, Roger had got me so worked up, my nerves had me all over the place but my resolve was unshaken. I was also a little panic stricken trying to tease apart the jumble of emotions I was feeling. By the time I fully entered his room and was at the edge of his bed my legs were shaking. I was excited, apprehensive, scared, frantic, feverish, lustful, wanting, and horny all at once, I needed to sit.

He was so large; I couldn't get the image out of my head. I mean I knew he was big, I had seen him earlier in the day but Not as I had a mere minute ago. The truth was, up close his cock was intimidating. However this time it was a different matter entirely, he was sitting up in bed with the sheet pulled up, covering his waist. He had his knees drawn up and slightly apart so that his sheet tented out between his legs; he was desperately trying to hide his erection. I knew he was hoping that this blind he was creating hid his engorged member and gave it time to reduce in size. I on the other hand had no intention of allowing that possibility to occur. Frankly I was of the mindset to do everything in my power to make that magnificent specimen even more noticeable. Sitting as I approached, the sheet covering his body, knees bent as they were he looked guilty. His attempt to hide his erection failed, I knew he was still hard and I would make him harder.

"May I sit down?" I needed to sit, I was so nervous.. I needed to breathe and regulate my breathing so that I could both converse and plan my seduction. Truthfully I wasn't as prepared as I would've liked, we had a number of barriers in the way, not to mention the greatest taboo of being mother and son.

"Umm, well I was just about to go to sleep really," His lie sounded unconvincing but I knew if I pushed it he'd crack.

I sat close beside him allowing my presence to be full and complete. My terry cloth robe opened at the top, giving visual access to my fairly substantial breast. I knew my cleavage was on display and I did nothing to hide it from him, in fact I wanted him looking at it, the more distracted he was the more he would let down his guard. I crossed my legs fully exposing my calf, most of my knee and some of my thigh, letting anyone present glean that I was in all likelihood naked underneath. In the back of my mind I wondered if he could smell my arousal, I knew I could. All this I was hoping would add to my arsenal of wiles.

"Really, you look wide awake?"

"Ah, well, I ah, I was going to read a bit and than go to bed."

"Oh really? What book?"

"Ah well..." He began to scramble and reached over to his night stand opening the drawer as if to grab some imaginary book. His hands were shaking and it was clear he was nervous, I had caught him off guard and he was struggling for composure. As he pulled the drawer open the first thing that came into view was the large bottle of lube. The flip top lid was open and bottle itself looked to be slick and wet, covered with some of its contents. The look on his face was priceless. His eyes were as big as saucers. In that moment I had him and I decided I wasn't going to let him go.

"Oh, that's the lube your father likes to use too."

"Wha.. What?"

"When your father masturbates or has me jerk him off, that's the lube he likes to use," I said. "You two have similar tastes in lube, I wonder what else you might both share a taste for?"

"I uh, I uh. Uhm..."

"Look honey you don't have to be embarrassed and you needn't lie. Besides I can see from the residue on your hands and the smears on your sheets and pillows that you've been using a lube, and quite recently I might add."

I could tell Michael was flabbergasted and if I weren't careful I would lose him to his mortification. I had to find a way to bring him in, to bridge the distance between the Michael of a few moments ago, fantasizing about fucking his mother, with the one I was facing right now, the embarrassed and overwhelm son. I decided that fortune favoured the brave and my next move was in all likelihood the bravest or craziest thing I had ever done. I took his hand. And before he could do anything, pull it back, voice a protest, I kissed it.

"Baby it's ok don't worry," I said kissing it again. And then a third and fourth time, the last time I allowed my tongue to come out and ever so delicately lick two of his fingers. "I like this lube too, the way it feels, the way it tastes, how it makes everything so slick and wet. Things just slide better don't you think?"

"What?"

"They slide better. Things covered in lube slide better than things that aren't?" I smiled, "At least that's what I've found."

I reached into the drawer and took out the lube. I could tell he had been in a rush when he put it to the drawer; not only was the lid not closed but the bottle was still slick on the outside, a clear indication that he had recently been using it. In one hand I held the lube, in the other I held his hand.

"Oh my, the bottle is all slippery. I'm getting it all over my hands," I giggled my best girly laugh. I tipped the bottle over and squeezed some of the contents onto my hand, the one that held his. "See how slick it is."

"You know when your done using it you should really close the lid. Unless of course you really weren't finished using it?"

I put the bottle in my lap, not closing the lid as if to emphasize my point. I deliberately began to rub some of the liquid from my hand onto his, almost as though I was simply massaging his hand and nothing more. I used tiny circular motions, using both my thumbs to massage the back of his hand and then his palm and thumb. The pressure I applied was definitely more sensual than therapeutic. As I gently caressed his palm and thumb I moved onto his fingers. With the fingers of my hand as I began to stretch out his hand opening his palm. It was my intent to demonstrate visually for him how dainty and small my hand was compared to his. I was showing him how his fingers were so much longer and thicker than his, how his hand could encompass mine, dominate it, grasp and take hold of it at will. Soon I began to trace my fingers along his in this way I could caress each finger as though it were a tiny cock.

"Mmmm, so smooth," I said as I lifted his hand closer to my mouth and then sucked the tips of his index and middle fingers ever so gingerly.

"And the taste..." I let those words linger as I continued my ministrations, massaging, stroking his hand.

"Feels good doesn't it?" He nodded, he was now speechless and his uncomfortability with the moment gave way to a reluctant acquiescence. I Pulled his arm forward from him towards me, bringing his hand closer to my cleavage.

"Sit up baby don't slouch." He did as he was told, lost in the moment, not really cognizant of the fact that as he moved up in his bed and his arm came forward, his covers began to fall away from him revealing his smooth chest and washboard abs. I on the other hand was very aware of what lay before me. My husband had done too good of a job, he wanted me aroused and overly stimulated, he wanted me compromised and emotionally open for possibilities I would never under any other circumstances considered and I was. At that moment I brought his hand to my mouth again and bit and sucked his thumb. That's when I saw it. His cock, that magnificent length of flesh, moved under the sheet. From that moment on he was aroused and he was mine.

"Michael?"

"Yes."

"You're an adult now," I said, choosing my words carefully, trying not sound admonishing. I was still rubbing his hand as I spoke and closing the gap between us so that we were less than a foot apart. "I'd like to have a frank discussion with you, if that's ok?"

"Alright."

"I need you to be honest with me, can you do that baby?" I looked him deeply in the eyes closing the gap between us even more.

"Uhm, I think so, I mean I'll try."

"Have you ever heard when your father and I are being intimate?"

"What do you mean?" I could tell he was a little embarrassed and somewhat uncomfortable with the question. He shifted in his bed and unconsciously pulled at his sheets. He so reminded me of when he was younger in that instant, you knew right away we were have an uncomfortable conversation, he looked like he wanted to jump out of his skin.

"You're an adult now..." I repeated. "We can talk about anything?"

"We can?" he hesitated.

"Yes baby we can."

"It's just a little difficult to get use to."

"Ok then, our room is right down the hall..." I let my words hang in the air, as I looked Michael in the eyes. I wanted to make sure I held his stare for a moment before I continued. I didn't want to lose the momentum I had come in with, I was intent on getting laid and there was nothing going to stop me. My husband had worked me up too much for me to stop now. "And I know we are none too quiet. So do you ever hear us?"

"Uhm, well..." His words became stuck in his throat and I watched him swallow hard before he proceeded. "Sometimes, yeah."

"Well that's embarrassing," I said blushing as I spoke. I continued to rub his and stroke his hand as we spoke.

"Sometimes, we just get caught up in the moment. Do you hear anything in particular?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you hear anything?" I repeated. "Do you hear me?"

"You?"

"Yes, do you hear me?"

"Sometimes."

"Can you make out what we're saying or do you just know we're having sex?" He almost froze when I said the word sex. I wondered what he would've done had I said 'fucking' instead. I moved up on the bed and was now kneeling on the bed facing him. My housecoat parted nicely exposing both my knees and upper thighs. For a woman my age I did have nice legs and a firm shapely ass. There was no way Michael wasn't going to be fucking me; he just didn't know it yet.

"Sometimes."

"Sometimes?" I questioned. "What do you hear... Sometimes?"

I leaned in closer to him holding his hand, bringing it to my chest. I placed it between my firm round breast and held it tight as I moved ever closer. Our faces were mere inches apart.

"Well it depends, sometimes I can hear what your saying but mostly I just know you're having sex."

He was having a hard time maintaining eye contact with me. He kept wanting to look away. He was looking down at his hand, at where I was pressing it, I knew he could feel the firmness of my breast, the heat of my skin. He could smell my perfume and I'm pretty sure he could begin to smell my arousal.