Sitting on a balcony overlooking the city street, Cupid and his beautiful wife Psyche watched the people below. Their passion had only grown over the countless years. They still enjoyed each other's company and challenging one another. They looked much as they had on the day they wed. The son of Venus appeared as a beautiful young man of 18 and his bride looked the same age, only with a woman's curves.
No one below noticed them as they sat in the loveseat kissing and playing. He pulled the shoulder of her gown down and revealed a flawless breast. She ran her fingers through his soft brown curls.
When Psyche's delicate finger traced the edge of one of his feathered wings, he shivered with delight.
"The people down there seem exceptionally dreary today, don't you think?" she asked as he took her nipple into his mouth.
"Compared to you, they always do," he replied, and he moved his lips up to her neck.
"Well, I have you, dear. What have they got?" she asked as his tongue teased her earlobe.
"What do you suggest?"
"I think we should liven them up a little bit. It's Valentine's Day after all. Shouldn't they be having fun?"
Psyche stood up and walked over to the railing to peer more closely at the people on the street. Her breast remained uncovered, while the pedestrians and workers went about their day.
Cupid walked up behind his wife and wrapped his slender arms around her as he looked over her shoulder. One hand absentmindedly fondled her exposed breast as he watched the people.
A waitress stood outside a café with a cigarette dangling from her lips. As she bent over to dust something from her apron, and nearby road worker watched the waitress's ass and whistled.
"How about those two?" she asked as her husband started sliding her gown up to her hips.
"Seems kind of cliche to me," he replied in a bored tone.
"You think you have a better idea?"
"Oh, I have lots of better ideas," he said as he rubbed her bare ass with his left hand and continued to fondle her breast with his right.
"Prove it," she said with a smile. She pressed her ass into him as they talked. She relished the feeling of his taut body against hers.
"How would you like me to do that?"
"Let's push two people together. Ones who otherwise might never know the taste of one another."
"Okay, but first things first," Cupid said as he guided himself into her from behind and began making love to her.
She was still leaning over the railing as she moaned her pleasure. She was already close to coming thinking of the deviance they could stir up with their pairing.
The people below never looked up to see these immortal pleasure seekers in their midst. But they would feel their impact soon.
Once satiated the two were on the street, walking amongst the mortals, but invisible to them. They passed shops, and shoppers, construction zones, businesspeople on lunch breaks. The streets were bustling with activity despite the chill of the day.
When Cupid drew to a stop, he observed a pair. It was a woman in her late 30's or early 40's and a young man who may have been 20. They had been arguing.
The young man opened the passenger side door of a maroon sedan and sat down. He slammed the door so hard his raven black hair fluttered on his forehead from the force of the air.
The woman walked to the other side of the car to get behind the wheel. She wore tight slacks with heels and a V-neck top that showed off the tops of round breasts so perfect they were likely surgically enhanced. Her straight ash brown hair fell to her chin and seemed as if she had only visited the stylist yesterday. She looked pretty, but tired.
Both looked angry.
"Those two," Cupid said pointing. A devious smile spread across his face.
"No way. They are probably mother and son! Look at his sulky face," Psyche protested. There was no real argument in her expression though. Only intrigue.
Without hesitation, Cupid pulled out his bow and arrow.
"These are special," he informed Psyche. "They're a Valentine's special. The effect will be temporary but incredibly intense. They are tipped with pure lust and infatuation. They'll only work for today, though the memories will remain. Which one shall I inflict?"
"The boy," Psyche answered. "I want to see that sulk wiped off his face."
Cupid loosed his arrow and it dove through the windshield without affecting the glass. When it hit its mark, the young man's eyes opened wide, and he immediately began to shift in his seat.
Psyche and Cupid climbed undetected into the back seat of the car before it could drive away. They didn't want to miss the show.
As the car pulled onto the street, the woman noticed the boy had grown quiet.
"I know you think I'm being unfair. But this could have been avoided if you had come to me before it got this bad. Not attending classes for over a month without saying anything? I just don't want you throwing away your opportunities. You'll move back home until you've gotten your grades and attendance under control. I know last semester is a wash, but we don't have to give up yet."
The dark-haired young man didn't respond.
"I know at your age living at home with your mom again isn't ideal. But I think it will be good for you," she continued. She placed a hand on his knee when he still said nothing.
When she touched him, he gasped. While she talked, he had been staring, like he was hypnotized at the mounds peeking out the top of her shirt. He had been shocked by the sudden physical contact.
Misreading his response, she pulled her hand away and looked at him.
"Don't act like I hit you," she said. "You know I wouldn't do this if I didn't know you could do better. This is just temporary until you are doing better. Who knows? Maybe it'll be fun. Whenever you're not working on schoolwork, we'll have some free time. I'm sure we can find some things to fill up the time."
The boy blanched at her words. His mind immediately began filling with all sorts of ways they could fill up that free time. He wished he hadn't gasped when she touched him. His leg was like ice where her warm hand had been. Of course, he knew she meant things like going for hikes or bowling. But even when he told himself that, his mind supplemented with images of pressing his mother against a tree off some secluded hiking path, or how hot her ass would look bent over while he sat and watched her from his seat at the bowling alley.
He tried to casually move his hand over his crotch, so she wouldn't notice the effect these thoughts were having on him. He was supposed to care that he was being dragged back home from college after fucking up a whole semester. But suddenly none of that mattered suddenly.
All he could think about was his mom's body. She was hotter than ever since he went away to college.
He caught himself in that thought and pinched his own leg hard. What the hell was he thinking? Gross! She was his mom. But the mental chastisement did little to him. Why shouldn't he notice she was hot? She was a woman, and he was a man. It was only natural.
Somehow, he was going to find a way to touch her. Just a little. When he tried to push the thought down, it just popped back into his mind.
When they pulled into the driveway, she got out without saying anything and opened the trunk. He followed, quickly rearranging his beginning erection to make it less obvious. He followed her to the back, and watched as she bent over. She moved some objects around before pulling out a laundry basket filled with his clothes and bedding. He wanted to press his crotch into her backside and grind against her.
"Are you going to help?" she asked, a hint of exasperation creeping back into her voice.
"Yes, of course," he said. As he reached into the trunk to grab the largest box, he casually brushed his hand across her ass, pretending it was an accident.
His mother didn't react. Either she didn't notice, or she didn't care. He smiled and pulled out the box and sat on the ground long enough to slam the trunk closed. Then he picked it back up and followed his mother into their house.
Still unseen, Cupid and Psyche followed.
Once inside, they walked to his bedroom. Most of his things remained still. He had only brought the necessities with him to college. Since he only lived 30 minutes from home, it hadn't seemed worth it to bring more.
His mom had already made up his bed with clean sheets. An idea crossed his mind, and he felt naughty even as he began to execute it.
He sat on the bed and buried his face in his hands. He couldn't actually make himself cry, but he didn't think it would matter. And he was right. His mom noticed immediately and sat next to him. She wrapped her right arm around his shoulders and with her other hand she pulled his head down onto her shoulder. It had worked even better than he'd hoped. With his face inches from her soft breasts, he wrapped both his arms around her waist.
She ran her hand through his hair and kissed the top of his head.
"It's going to be okay Kyle," she reassured him. "I know it seems impossible right now, but it will be, I promise."
"I know. It's just..." he started to say 'hard'. But stopped himself because of his current predicament, it seemed a little too precise. "Difficult."
"I hope in time you'll forgive me for this," she said as she continued to stroke his hair. Every time she moved her arm to do so, she unintentionally brought her tits up just a little higher, nearly touching his face. If he lowered his face just a little...
"I'm not mad at you," he said as he shifted, subtly moving his face just a bit. He couldn't contain the small sigh when his cheek touched her breast. When he spoke, his lips lightly brushed against her warm skin.
She went still at the feel of his lips at such an intimate area. But she hesitated to push him away. It had been years since he'd been so vulnerable and affectionate. It gave her hope that they'd get through this rough patch.
Only feet away, in a small office chair near a desk, Psyche sat in Cupid's lap. They remained unseen and unheard. He casually ran his hand up and down her thigh as they watched the boy carefully begin to nuzzle his mother's cleavage.
