It began the night before Halloween when I offered my twenty year old Son Michael a simple choice: Trick or Treat? I knew my Son couldn't resist a challenge and so he chose trick. I raised my eyebrows at him after he chose and then grinned at him, before he headed out of the door to college.
I had been having a special relationship with my Son for around six months now. I had discovered a list of escort agencies in his drawer and out of parental curiosity went online to find what exactly it was he was looking for. They were all for mainly older women, specialising in fetishes of one type or another - spanking, bondage, domination and control. It was then that I admit my interest strayed beyond parental responsibility and I found myself masturbating at the prospect that my Son would find such things a turn on.
For a few weeks I experimented. I showed more leg when I dressed up around him. Took extra care to wear stockings and high heels, made sure that around the house he got a good look. And look he did! I admit it was very naughty of me, but I loved knowing that he was going to be hard thinking about my legs and the way I dressed. My skirts go shorter and my heels higher. Friday nights I would do my best to look very slutty indeed with a tight black pencil skirt and black stilettos so that before he went out to see his mates, he'd already be hard. Then, one Friday night, he just didn't go out, he stayed in and spent the entire evening stealing glimpses of my legs. I was ecstatic and that night fell into my bed and came hard as I flicked and rubbed myself to an orgasm.
After this came the discussion. Guilt gnawed deep in me over this amusing, erotic game I was playing with my own Son and so I sat him down to discuss what had been going on. He seemed a little shocked at first, claimed he didn't know why my mode of dress had changed, simply that he had 'enjoyed the view'. I told him that was OK, but I really did not want him visiting any escorts. I didn't want my boy getting ill or spending his well-earned money on whores. It was then I offered to let him watch me as he masturbated. It was a bold move, I understood the risk that I could lose him forever, but I wanted it and needed to know if it could happen.
To my delight he agreed and later that evening, in our darkened living room, Michael sat down dressed only in his dressing gown, while I stood in front of him in my tiniest black skirt, blouse wide open to give a more than generous view of my cleavage, seamed black stockings and high heeled black sandals. I walked up and down the room for him, I leaned over in front of him and pouted, I sat on the chair opposite and crossed my legs with a fine *SWISHHHH* sound. And then he reached inside his gown and pulled out that young cock to start wanking.
I'lll admit I was in heaven as I watched him pull on his thick prick, mesmerised by the bulbous head and dazed look in his eyes. I loved the look on his face even better as he came, cum dribbling down his fingers as his cock spasmed with intensity. I remember walking in front of him, leaning over once more, my 36D boobs hanging right in front of his nose and with a tissue I mopped up the cum from around his dick in the most maternal and gentle way. I held his head tight to my bosom as fatigue overcame him and he drifted into sleep. I knew there and then that what I had done was right for us both.
So the months went by as we played variations on this game, but never had he penetrated me or in fact touched me in any way he seemed to content to use me as his one hundred percent real pornography and I loved the way he stared at me. Recently I had begin to masturbate in front of him too and he loved watching me cum, head thrown back, fingers between my thighs, sprawled on the living room floor. How long could we keep this game up, I wondered?
Then Halloween arrived, a night for mischief and I was in a mischievious mood. I told Michael that he was to come to my bedroom in his robe. With so many families out trick or treating, the living room wouldn't be the best idea, so we should stay upstairs. Besides it would be the right place for his 'trick'. Before he arrived I had enough time to come home from work and don my costume. It was a simple choice really, an easy one to make. I had decided I was going to be a witch. I dyed my usual brown bob a few shades darker to near black earlier that week and after a shower I painted my nails and toes a deep blood red. Dark mascara and liner masked my eyes and my lips became blood-stained too. I decided on a black satin half-cup bra that would neatly push my cleavage into that valley where men dared to stare. My suspender belt was also black and that kept the black lace stockings I was wearing in place. Each stockingtop was embroidered with a small cat motif - perfect for keeping the witches theme and proof that I was a naughty pussy too. No panties. The black dress itself travelled down to the floor with a low cut top that would have held its own against Elvira's wardrobe. The bottom half had a split that showed my leg just above the knee when I walked, however a discreet clip held the skirt section together and with a quick *snap* the dress's split would suddenly travel all the way up to my upper thigh. On my feet were a pair of black court shoes that I wore for work, a modest heel, at least to start with.
I could hear Michael coming up the stairs as I adjusted the hat on my head and then sat back on the bed. My Son knocked on my bedroom door.
"Enter..." I said in a voice that I hoped was mysterious. The door opened slowly and Michael stepped inside his face lighting up with surprise at my witch's outfit. *SWISHHHHH* I crossed my legs and smiled at my Son.
"Well what do you think?"
"You look... bewitching, Mum!"
I laughed and beckoned him into the room, making him shut the door. He walked in front of me, eyes fixed on my legs and bosom as he did, before declaring that he was 'Here for his trick'.
Resting my hands on my nyloned knee, I smiled up at him and said "Well, Michael... tonight you are going to be in a Witch's Power, do you understand? If you are in a Witch's Power you cannot refuse anything the witch says. Do you agree?"
My Son must have thought about it for a second before nodding eagerly.
"Excellent, Michael, excellent... Why don't you take off that robe?"
His hands couldn't move fast enough down to his cord and the robe dropped to the floor. It was my turn to ogle now, my Son's fit, handsome body. His cock already erect and waiting, framed by his neatly trimmed pubic hair. He held his hands behind his back.
"Good boy. Now remember in whose power are you, Son?"
"A witch's, Mum."
"Good. Now kneel down for Mummy."
Slowly my Son dropped onto his knees and looked up at me expectantly. He knew this was all part of a game, but he seemed to be enjoying it. I looked down at him affectionately.
"Now, Michael we are going to have a lot of fun tonight and you mustn't be afraid. I will protect you on Halloween, Son."
He nodded once more and I stood up, circling him. He stared at my stockinged legs as they drifted in and out of the long black satin dress. I stood behind him, my red finger nails stroking through his hair in a calming motion.
"I really hope you're ready for tonight, Michael I really do..."
And with one swift movement - *CLICK!* - I trapped both my Son's wrists in a pair of handcuffs.
Michael was as shocked as I was exhilarated, his mouth fell open in amazement before loudly exclaiming "What?!".
Moving quickly in front of him I knelt down in front of my Son and put my finger to his cheek.
"Now, darling, remember, you are in a Witch's Power and that means you will have to do what the Witch wants won't you?"
Swallowing once he quickly nodded again. I stood up again and looked down at my boy in bondage. I was about to tell him what I wanted doing first when-
DING DONG! DING DONG!
The doorbell interrupted me. "Oh, Michael those must be trick or treaters! I'd better go and see to them..."
I went to move past my Son to the door when a thought occurred to me.
"Well, Son, I don't want you going anywhere, do I?"
And with that, I pushed the sole of my high heel into my Son's shoulder and sent him tumbling to the ground on to his side! I giggled as I saw him floundering helpless on the floor and gingerly stepped over to him to answer the front door.
The first of the evening's raiding parties had arrived. I had a bowl of chocolate bars set up on the hall table and opened the front door to see Mr Sinclair with his two lads from over the road all pretending to Werewolves. As the boys eagerly helped themselves to the chocolate, Mr Sinclair had awful trouble removing his line of sight from my cleavage. He stammered through our chit-chat about how cold it was and how hyperactive his kids would be with all the E numbers, while all the time staring at my breasts with lascivious intent. As I shut the front door once more, I felt sorry for Mr Sinclair, his wife was not overly blessed with breast and so the poor man probably couldn't help it.
Eagerly I trotted back up the stairs to see that Michael had managed to flip over to face the doorway. Michael asked if that had been the Sinclairs.
"Yes and poor Mr Sinclair couldn't keep his eyes off your Mother's breasts! I suspect he wanted to rub his face in them, kiss them and suck them!"
By now I could see that all the talk about our neighbour perving at my delicious boobs had given my Son quite the erection. Standing over him, I prodded underneath his cock and on his ball sack with the toe of my court shoe.
"Oh I see my Son likes it when his Witch Mother does that!"
"Oh god yessss!"
Enjoying watching my Son writhe as I pleasured him, I took it in turns to toe his balls and cock with my shoes on either foot and he moaned with delight. My pussy was tingling too as I stood over Michael, did I really enjoying dominating him that much? Evidently I did.
