Body Language

"Candy, I swear, If I don't get laid soon I'm going to burst," I confessed to my best friend.

It had been two years since my bastard ex-husband impregnated his secretary and left me. If that's not the most cliche end of a marriage, I don't know what is.

"Kelsey, honey, John's long been old enough for you to go out for a good time. You coddle him as if he were still a child. Honey, that's a grown-ass man living in your house. He doesn't need you any longer."

I knew she was right. My only child, John, graduated college and was already starting a fine career as a fireman. He was saving money for a house and I was fine with him living with me. It kept me from being completely alone.

"I don't coddle him!" I spat.

"Okay, what are you doing right now? It's Saturday night and I bet you're folding his laundry."

I set down his boxers and sighed, "I know, I know. It makes me feel good to help him though. He works such crazy shifts."

"Kelsey, he works one day then has two off. He has time to do his own laundry. Honey, there is no reason you can't go out on dates. Frankly, I feel you're still hooked on your ex. Let the bastard go!"

She was right. She was always right. Fucking Steve! His child is almost two, he remarried, and I still hoped he would come to his senses and come back to me.

"Goin' out, Ma," John called as he raced out the door.

I sighed again thinking of how much he looked like his father facially. He was more sturdily built, however, and he was several inches taller. John used to tease me by saying he got his height from his real father. Steve didn't find it funny. John always was a momma's boy and I loved him more for it.

"Candy, I'm gonna go. John just left and I've got to straighten up before bed."

"Yeah. I know what you're gonna do. BOB's waiting in your drawer, you'd better hurry. If that's not enough, use John."

"Candy!" I shrieked. "He's my son. Don't say things like that."

"Okay, Kelsey. I'll talk to you later."

She laughed as she hung up. It was of course true. My battery-operated boyfriend was all I had to quell some of my needs. It was no comparison to a real, loving body pounding into my hungry kitty. Having someone's arms wrapped around me with their tongue dancing along with mine. Having hands and fingers roaming my breasts and butt. Ugh! I needed a man.

I was floored that she would joke about me having sex with John. What was she thinking?

****

I had BOB buried deep inside me on my favorite setting. As its shaft danced and pulsed inside my tunnel, the clit stimulator buzzed me to the brink of orgasm. And then, my worst nightmare happened.

As I cried out in bliss, I heard John shout, "I'm home, Ma!"

Damn! Although the orgasm happened, it faded into nothing as I scrambled to turn the toy off and prayed to God, John didn't hear me cry out.

I was absolutely mortified as I pulled my nightgown down and secreted my toy away. I'd clean it later, I had to show John I wasn't doing what I was doing.

I opened my locked door and peeked into his room across the hall. "You're home early?"

Oh, God! What a dumb thing to say. I was panicking and blowing it.

"Yeah, my date was a dud."

"I'm sorry, sweetie. They can't all be winners."

"I know. Anyway, wanna watch a movie? Or are you—busy?"

"Uh...no." I hoped he wasn't implying that he knew what I was doing when he came home.

I calmed myself and said, "I'll make some popcorn, you pick the movie. I think that new Wonder Woman movie is On Demand."

He smiled and said, "Okay. It's on me."

I giggled as I padded away. He paid the cable bill, so yeah, he was buying.

****

I walked into the family room with a tray of freshly popped corns, extra butter, a beer for him, and a glass of wine for myself. I froze and almost dropped the tray when I saw him sitting in a pair of mesh shorts and no shirt.

When did he get so buff?

I couldn't understand why I was staring at him thinking those thoughts.

"You okay, Ma?"

I composed and said, "Yeah. I thought I saw a spider."

He laughed, "Don't worry. I can kill a little spider to protect you." He flexed his biceps and a lump formed in my throat. I knew I had to calm down. I chalked it up to my interrupted orgasm.

I set the big bowl of popcorn in between us on the couch and handed him his beer.

"Thanks," he smiled. He raised his bottle and said, "To not so lonely Saturday nights."

I smiled back and clinked his toast.

As the movie played, he said, "That lady who plays Diana's mom looks a lot like you."

I laughed and said, "Don't be silly. She's so beautiful."

"Don't sell yourself short, Ma. For a fifty-year-old chick, you've still got it."

I smacked his arm and said, "I'm only forty-five and you're not too old to be spanked for insolence."

He smirked and ate some popcorn.

****

When the movie ended he asked, "I bet you were pretty hot in 1984. How old were you then?"

"Eight," I laughed.

"Well, I'm sure you drove the second graders wild. Good night."

"Good night, John. I love you."

He waved as he walked on. I sighed. He hadn't told me he loved me for several years. I guessed that it wasn't cool for a twenty-three-year-old to love his mother.

As I cleaned the kitchen, I tried to think of any men who may be interested in me. I use to have men flirt with me at work but since I shot them down so often because I was married, they all stopped.

I wondered what would happen if I spruced up my wardrobe? I was still attractive and had a decent body. The bits were sagging lower than they did when I was thirty, but I was still thin. My hair was still naturally red with no gray yet.

I smiled as I thought of John's compliments. He was a good boy—correction—he was a good man, and I hoped he found a nice girl for whom to bestow those compliments upon.

****

John was at work the following morning and I did my normal Sunday housecleaning routine. Around noon, I got a text from a number I didn't recognize.

"What are you wearing right now?"

I laughed as someone must've dialed the wrong number.

"Sorry. Wrong number."

"Nope. You're Kelsey and I want to know what you're wearing."

I couldn't believe it.

"Who is this? I don't have your number saved."

"I'm a secret admirer. Wanting you from afar."

Holy shit!

"Where did you get my number?"

"Had it a while. Never had the balls to do this before. Again, what are you wearing?"

I freaked out. I couldn't fathom who would be texting me like that. It had to be a prank.

"They must be huge, jerk, for doing this to me."

"They are. I'll send you a picture."

A moment later, a picture came through and while I was shocked that I was looking at someone's very large, very hard penis and large balls, I was more shocked to see his appendix scar. I dropped the phone on the table as if it were a snake.

I backed away and ran to my bedroom, where I kept my photo albums on a shelf in my closet. I found the most recent vacation pictures from when John and I went to visit my sister in California.

My hands trembled as I looked at the photo of us in our swimsuits. John's scar from the surgery he had when he was seventeen stared me in the face.

I started to cry, wondering why my son would be so cruel to me.

I don't know how long it took, but I finally cried myself out and made my way back to the kitchen where I picked up my abandoned phone.

There were two missed texts. Both asking if I was still there and if I was alright. Before I could reply, my phone rang in my hand. It was John calling from his normal number.

I thought about not answering, but I didn't want to let on that I knew it was him sending me the texts.

"Hello, John."

"Hi, Ma," he said as if nothing was wrong. I knew he was worried about me.

"How's it going?" He asked so casually it bothered me.

"Oh, just cleaning the kitchen. What's up? You don't call from work often."

"Nothing...I Uh...wanted to know if you wanted me to bring breakfast home in the morning. I have a taste for that stuffed French toast we like."

It took every ounce of my strength to stay calm. I wanted to lash out at him for being hurtful to me.

"Sure, I'm off work tomorrow so I'll have time to eat with you."

"Okay. I'll be home by seven."

"Bye, John."

He didn't say anything for a few moments. I realized I didn't tell him I loved him as I always did.

"Um, Ma?"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

"Love you too."

I sobbed after ending the call. How could my son play such a cruel joke on me? Did he think stuffed French toast would make it up to me? Fat chance!

John worked 24-hour shifts so I wouldn't see him until the following morning. I had plenty of time to recover from the pain he caused me.

But then, I felt I had to double-check the picture. I had to be sure it was him in the photo.

When I opened the picture I stared at it. Then I realized I wasn't staring at the scar. I hadn't looked at it at all. I was looking at his penis. His big beautiful penis. His large hard cock.

I dropped my phone again. I hated myself for what I was thinking, what I was feeling—I was turned on. Turned on by my son's penis. Oh hell. That thing shouldn't be called a penis. It was a cock. A glorious orgasm machine.

I ran to my bedroom and attempted to wear out my BOB's batteries, hating myself the entire time.

****

I was finishing the dinner dishes when I got a text. It was my "secret admirer" again.

"I didn't mean to shock you with that picture. I can be impetuous sometimes."

I laughed out loud. John's picture is next to impetuous in the dictionary.

I debated responding. I wondered if it was a game he was playing. I wondered if he was trying to make me feel better. And then I realized he must've heard me the day before. He must've heard me tell Candy I needed to get laid. He must've heard me playing with BOB.

I opened a bottle of wine and texted him back after a healthy chug.

"I was shocked. No one I know would send me something like that."

"It's crass but I think you needed a shock to your system. You're a beautiful woman who doesn't believe she is."

He was right. I wasn't exactly brimming with confidence after being dumped by the only man I ever loved.

"Where do I know you from?"

I couldn't wait to see him answer that question. I took another long gulp of my cherry wine and waited.

"Where's the fun in telling you that?"

Damn!

Before I could respond he tested again.

"Did you like the picture?"

Before I knew what I was doing I texted the worst thing I could've sent.

"Very much. You're very large."

I wanted to throw my phone at the wall. What the hell was wrong with me? Why did I tell him that?

His response was quick. I dreaded what it would say.

"I was thinking of you when I took it. I shot the biggest load of my life across my belly while thinking of you."

I almost lost it. My son was telling me that he fantasized about me. After a moment and a refill of wine, I realized I had done the same thing earlier when I used my toy.

I drank some more and as I was thinking of a response, my fingers moved across the screen as if they had a life of their own.

"It was a waste then. I would have loved to lick it all up."

Oh shit!

I couldn't imagine why I sent that text. I shivered wondering what was wrong with me and poured more wine. I realized it was the end of the bottle. I figured that was it. I was drunk. Then my phone chimed.

"I have lots to say to that, but I have to go. Duty calls. Maybe I'll text you later if it's not too late?"

That was what cemented it for me that it was my son. I was sure he got an emergency call to which he had to run. It was seven at night. No one has anything to run off to on Sunday night.

I knew then that I could trap him by asking about his shift. The only problem was, did I want to do that?

****

I woke the next morning to John's coming home. My "secret admirer" never texted back so I assumed it was a late night for him.

I walked into the kitchen to find John pouring mimosas.

"What's all this?" I asked.

He smiled and said, "I felt like doing something special for you this morning."

I sipped the proffered drink as he plated the yummy French toast.

"How was your shift? Did you have any runs?" I asked wondering how he would answer.

"Yeah. It was slow until there was a warehouse fire last night. We didn't get in until three."

My motherly instincts overrode my desire to mess with him.

"Oh, my God. You must be exhausted?"

He smiled and said, "I'll sleep when I'm dead. Dig in while it's still warm."

Breakfast conversation was normal, John was in a good mood but I could tell he was exhausted.

"John, get some sleep. I'll clean this up and be quiet for you."

"Thanks, Ma. I'm gonna take a shower and I'll get some rest."

He kissed my cheek and held it for an unusually long time. I smelled his manliness. A wonderful mix of sweat and a trace of smoke left from the fire. My pussy tingled as he pulled away and walked to his room.

I realized then I was sober. It wasn't like the day before. I knew I was losing control.

John's shower was running when I received another text from my "secret admirer".

"I'm stroking my hard haft wishing your mouth was on it."

I wasn't sure if I should be shocked or turned on. The tingle in my loins made it clear.

I sat on my bed and decided to go for broke. If he really wanted me, I had to know. If it was just a game for him? I had to know that also.

I spread my legs and slid my panties to the side. I took a picture of me touching my dripping wet pussy.

I debated sending it to him. I wondered if I wanted to continue playing the game, or did I want him to come into my room and take me.

I walked into the kitchen and poured the rest of the champagne into my glass. I might as well have just drunk it from the bottle because it didn't stand a chance.

I sent him the picture with a caption.

"I know who you are."

I waited for his response. I heard his shower stop so I walked into my room and started my shower. I figured I had a few moments before he checked his phone but the anticipation was killing me.

My phone was only a few feet away from me as I lathered my body under the hot water. I had to force myself not to relieve the burning desire between my legs. I wondered when it was I decided to wait for him to take me. It wasn't a conscious thought, or was it? All I knew was that I would fuck my son if he would let me.

I checked my phone and there was a missed text.

"Who am I?"

I sighed as I dressed wondering what I should do. I drank the rest of the champagne for courage and texted...

"In one minute, I am going to be naked in my kitchen pouring another mimosa. I know you will be there too."

I dropped my phone on my bed and walked to the kitchen. I wasn't sure if I hoped he would walk up behind me or not.

Before I could decide, a hand touched my shoulder.

"I knew it was you," I whispered.

"How?" He asked as I turned and he pulled me into an embrace.

"Your scar."

He pushed me back a step and smiled.

"Thank God," he said. "I hoped you would notice it."

I smacked his chest and said, "You left it on purpose?"

"Yeah, Ma. I wanted to leave a clue for you. I figured that you would recognize it right away and either shut me down or encourage me more. I'm very glad you encouraged more. I'll say that I was hoping for a longer game though. I didn't expect to be naked with you in a day."

He lifted my chin and kissed me. Oh God, what a kiss.

Before I could say anything he said, "I've been jerking off thinking about you since my first erection. I know you're afraid to date and find another man, but I want to help you until you find someone else."

He kissed me again and pressed his firm tongue between my lips.

I pulled back and said, "This is wrong!"

He laughed and said, "For who? What happens between the walls of this house is between us, and I'm dying to taste your pussy."

I shivered at his confidence.

He kissed me again and I returned it, making out with him for several minutes loving his touch on my body. His strong hands felt wonderful as he stroked my back in an embrace.

I shivered when he squeezed my ass so firmly it almost hurt.

"Your ass is my favorite part of your body," he whispered as he nibbled my ear and kissed my neck.

His hard shaft was pressed into my stomach and I was desperate to taste it. I wanted his cum so badly, I dropped to my knees and took him into my mouth.

"Fuck!" He sighed as I licked and sucked his heavy balls. His shaft was pressed against my nose and I breathed in his masculine scent.

I took his cock into my mouth and grabbed his ass. Fuck! His ass was rock solid and perfect. He moaned as I gave him the best blowjob I could. I wanted to show him none of the women he had before me could compare. I was going to pull out all of the stops and blow his mind.

I rose and kissed him, "Let's take this to my bedroom."

I walked away holding his hand, "Unless your fantasy was to have me in your bed?" I giggled as we walked.

"No, Ma, your room. I want to have you in your bed."

"Mm, sounds good."

We didn't make it to the bed before he lifted me and carried me into my room. He set me on the bed and dove into my quivering pussy as if it were the last meal he'd eat.

I couldn't believe how experienced he was as he explored every centimeter of my sex. He teased and played. Sucked and nibbled. When he pressed his fingers into me I exploded.

His slurping sounds showed me he loved my taste as he lapped up my juices.

"You taste so good," he said as if he read my mind.

He continued to devour me, long lick after long lick. I swear I could hear colors as I hit my second big orgasm from his tongue and fingers. I wondered what his cock would do to me if his tongue was that good—I found out.

He stood and lifted my hips off the bed. When he lined his glans with my opening he warned, "I'll be gentle."

"Fuck me now!" I cried, desperate for him to take me.

He smirked as he slid into me, stretching me so perfectly.

"Fuck! You're so tight," he moaned as he pulled out and entered me again. He was a pro. He knew his size took longer to fully penetrate and he was patient.

Finally, my body accepted him and his balls touched my rosebud. I felt them separate my cheeks as he ground his body into me.

"Oh, yes!" I sighed. "Take me, John. Fuck me like I need so badly."

He stroked smoothly as I writhed beneath him. He looked so good as his body rocked causing his muscles to ripple. My legs shot out akimbo, I had to give him room. I wanted him to bottom out and fill me with every inch, every vein, every hair. I wanted all of him in me.

I felt the sensation building. It spread from my pussy through the rest of my body. My thighs shook from the power of my orgasm and in the middle of the greatest feeling I'd ever had, h groaned and released his load deep inside me.

It sent me from a ten to an eleven as I screamed for him to pound me. "Harder! Harder! Oh, God! Harder."

I don't know how he did it but he stayed hard for a few more moments pounding me through my orgasm.

"Fuck, Ma. You're so hot," he whispered as he kissed me tenderly. His softening manhood slipped out of my well-satisfied pussy before he rolled to my side and embraced me.

"I love you," he whispered.

I shuddered at the thought of what we'd done. As the bliss faded, thoughts of dread filled my mind. I couldn't believe I let my son fuck me. I couldn't believe I wanted him. I couldn't believe I wanted him to do it again.

"I love you too, John."

"Where do we go from here," he asked.

"Let's worry about that later, okay? I need another round."