Exponential Lust Ch 3

No matter what astonishingly forbidden things I had done so far, I was not satisfied. But that was the entire self-arousing idea, this fantastic process of incessant amplification of desire to produce an ever-rising curve of unbounded lust.

At first, it had been an accidental thing. I had been making love with my husband Don in our bedroom on a Saturday evening not long ago. Quite without any forethought of what might happen, in entering room earlier after my feminine preparations, I had left the door to the room wide open. In one of those strange chance concatenations of coincidences, it just happened that our handsome eighteen-year old son Bobbie decided to check out a sound he heard – and came to the open doorway.

You can imagine his astonishment.

And not only that, but in the dim light, while making love to my man's beautiful cock, I became aware of my audience and that is when the exponential process took off. I discovered, with an incredible thrill, that my awareness of my son's watching me in a state of sexual abandon made that very abandon not just reproduce itself to prolong the joy of sex – no, not just that, but more. It so amplified my arousal that it drove me into mental and bodily climb along a continuously increasing frenzy of desire beyond desire! Exponential lust!

Then just this past Wednesday my obsession with the idea of my boy watching us make love led me to seduce my husband into an evening of wild sex in which we watched the classic incest film

Taboo

as Bobby watched us do so!

Thrown into a feverish state of sexual arousal by the very idea of being watched by my son as we watched the mother-son love making on screen, I even arranged for Don to make love to me in a way that I had resisted in the past. During the course of that exciting act, I had found myself envisioning the situation as Bobbie saw it from the doorway: his Mom spread-eagled on her knees, inviting her husband's entry into that nether sensitive aperture, calling our for that daring form of love making so that her astonished boy could not help but hear it!

Not only that. The room had not been as dim as in the earlier situation, so that as Don made love to me, as I turned to encourage him, I could not only see Bobby watch us but my eyes met his and locked into a state of mutual incestuous lust and longing!

And all the while my loving husband Don remained in the dark about our being watched.

And now … days have gone by. I am restless. I go about my round of routines but everywhere the incredibly blazing images accompany me along with the unremitting refrain in my mind.

Bobby has seen me do those wild things! Now he wants me!

It was inevitable that something more should happen. It all began the other day when, as I was driving toward a nearby shopping mall, I found myself interested in a certain shop along the highway that I had ignored in the past. It may once have been merely a newsstand but now it also displayed a blinking sign,

Adults Only!

With some trepidation about entering this no doubt male terrain, I made an abrupt turn into its small parking lot and tried to appear nonchalant as I entered the place.

I sighed with relief when I saw that there were no other customers, only a clerk, a chubby middle-aged woman who greeted me with a friendly smile. Encouraged, I sauntered slowly down several aisles with their various displays of sexual parts and acts on vividly obscene magazine covers.

Then I paused at an aisle where a number of racks contained paperback erotic novels. They seemed to be organized by theme. I quickly found out which theme interested me most as I felt the liquid response when scanning certain taboo-suggesting titles and lurid covers with their black-and-white drawings featuring the novel's characters in various states of undress and poised to undertake a variety of sexual acts.

Harder Mom Said

featured a tall and attractive nearly bare-breasted woman at a kitchen counter with a young boy pressed against her, his lips incredibly close to those well-drawn awesome breasts.

Flasher Mom

brought an extra skip and beat to my pulse as it showed a woman revealing herself to an eager young boy!

The cover of

Coming Into Mom

showed a startled ogling boy sitting in the passenger seat as his Mom, no doubt in a sexually frenzied state, was in the process of revealing her shapely bosom to his astonished but delighted eyes.

And there were many more.

I chose a half dozen of these books and paid for them, feelings my ears turn hot. My heart pounded as I drove home. I had no idea why I had done this, having never before even thought of such things – that is, before the events at home that I have been describing.

And yet, in spite of my the race of my pulse and what can only be called

awe

about what was happening to me, the outlines of a plan began to take shape in my mind.

It was a mild summer afternoon. After bathing, I threw on a robe and sprawled on the living room couch, one of the little books in my hand,

Boy-Loving Mother

. The cover drawing featured an attractive brunette lying down on her bed, her shapely breasts exposed and her nipples erect.

The book's tale of a mother who is obsessed with her son resonated with my newly discovered sexual feelings. I became warm and moist at my center. The arousal built up as I read on, enjoying the woman's wanton behavior and appearance as she proceed with a seduction of her young son.

Beside me, on the long table parallel to the couch, I had placed a tall glass filled with gin and tonic, from which I sipped from time to time. My body became warmer still as the book and the drink had their effect on me.

Then, after a little while, Bobby came home.

I was leaning back on a soft cushion, my long legs stretched out on the long couch, my feet adorned by black high-heeled shoes. My robe was sufficiently open to permit him to see a good part of my shapely breasts and also a glimmer of my smooth thighs.

He stood at the entrance to the room and remained frozen there, while I continued to read as if unaware of his presence.

In the story, the Mom also had arranged to ignite her boy's interest in her but in a somewhat different manner. She was lying in bed in the evening and asking him to bring her a glass of water. Earlier, she had made sure to put on her most transparent nightie but nothing else. Now when the youngster brought the glass to her, his eyes popping at the delicious sight of his mother's wantonly displayed body, she leaned forward toward him to take the glass from him. In this way, she gave him a mind-boggling glimpse of motherly breasts with luscious nipples that seemed to beg for his attention.

As I read this passage, enough time had passed for Bobby to shift his eyes and now take in the book I was reading, with its lurid title and cover on clear display for him to observe. The theme was obvious!

I heard him gasp and a thrill went through me!I moved my legs, baring a little more of my thighs and then leaned over to retrieve my drink from the table. The height of the table and its distance made it necessary for me to bend and thereby for my robe to open still further at the top. I took a considerable time to find and then lift the glass to my lips.

I thought: Yes, Bobbie, enjoy!

Taking his perspective, I knew he could view his mother's deliciously curved breasts as they were fully revealed for his prurient interests to revel in! And my nipples responded to further enhance the erotic potency of the scene for dazed eyes.

Oh joy! I felt a warm liquid glow in the core of my sexual being as I thrilled to the awareness of my effect upon my son, as he stared raptly at the sight of my motherly charms.

I wanted him to come to my maternal bosom! I wanted him to be my baby again! I felt a profound urge to hold him closely to me while he moaned in sexual delirium as he suckled my beckoning nipples and gently squeezed my soft but full breasts! To lure him into this … should I?

Not yet … it was even more exciting to hold him spellbound, to place upon him the burden of a continuing ache deep in his body that could not be relieved even by a frenzy of repeated masturbatory sessions in his room as he would relive this scene again and again!

Again I took his perspective and let the words come in my mind.

Mom! Mom! You're so lovely! I need you! I want you!

Oh, God, oh glory to heaven, what a joyous feeling to be wanted so desperately by your own boy!

Thus far we had not spoken. I leaned back on the cushion and sipped my cool drink, placing the book on my lap with its cover facing him, its blatant title and shameless artwork demanding his attention.

His eyes bounded from that cover to my body. Then he stuttered, "Mom! What … are you … doing?"

"Oh, just taking it easy on a warm summer day, loafing around," I replied casually.

"Oh. Reading …." he could not go on, as he intently focused on the glaring title

Boy-Loving Mother

.

I decided to back away from the precipice. I glanced at the book and looked back at my son.

"Don't think anything of it, honey. It's just a fantasy, just women's stuff."

Surprisingly, that remark seemed to have somewhat of a soothing effect on him, perhaps normalizing the situation a little. He probably had heard about and even seen paperback books written by and for women -- "romance novels" with their gaudy covers usually featuring an attractive young woman with a heaving bosom hear a powerful looking stud.

And maybe he had even skimmed through the pages in some of them in a bookstore, seeking out "the good parts."

My book, if he only knew, was

all

good parts.

But there's a thought!

After he left the room, the thought reverberated in my mind. I recovered my bag of similar books and searched among them.

I wasn't sure what I was looking for. But I was intrigued by one of them called

All Day Mom!

A very beautiful woman had posed for a photograph that adorned the cover, in which she appeared to be a heightened state of sexual excitement as she caressed her lovely bare breasts. A door nearby was ajar and a young boy was transfixed as he watched her.

I brought the book to a nearby bathroom – the only one apart from the one off our bedroom that Bobbie never used -- and skimmed through it while sitting on the toilet for a few moments. Yes, it would do nicely.

When I left the bathroom, I managed to forget to take the book with me.

I threw on an old shirt and short skirt. I left on my high-heeled shoes and also opened a few buttons at the top of the shirt. Then I went to the kitchen to prepare dinner.

While I busied myself in the kitchen, my ears were antennas pointed toward that bathroom. In a little while I heard Bobbie enter it to take a shower.

After a while, he finished showering. For a few moments I heard nothing and then -- a distinct gasp. I quickly returned to the kitchen.

A half hour went by and then I called out to him to come to dinner. Only then did I hear him leave the bathroom.

When he came to the table, all he had on was a towel draped across his mid-section, where a distinct bulge appeared. His ears were burning and his face redder than I had ever seen it.

I found this extremely stimulating. As he sat down, I approached him and held his face in my hands and leaned down so that his alert senses could take in my perfumed presence and, above all, the white soft skin of bosom, now only inches from his attentive eyes. I let my hand play over his neck and ears, as I brought my lips down very close to his.

I paused, letting us both bask in the delicious eroticism of the promise of the impending taboo situation. Then, a moment later, I gently kissed his trembling lips.

"Mom," he sighed with a longing that thrilled me.

Then I moved away from him.

"What is it, honey, what's troubling you?" I asked innocently.

The sexual longing in his eyes persisted. He seemed unable to reply.

"Tell Mom, Bobby, don't be afraid."

"I was reading …. A book, another of those books," he stuttered.

I didn't reply. He stared at me intently, his eyes dropping to my bosom. A small tremor went through my body.

Now for the first time his role as watcher was mentioned between us. "It was … like in that movie you were watching the other night – the mother and … her son."

"I explained that before, Bobby." I said gently.

"Mom …" he whispered, and then made a slight move toward me.

"No!" I held out my arm out and he stopped.

He sighed, and stood there for a moment looking at me. "I don't understand," he said quietly, his eyes fixed on me intently.

I almost relented.

He waited a few moments, uncertain. Then saying, "I'm not hungry," he went to his room.

I wondered what he would do now. And where was that book? I felt a tingle of aroused curiosity and imagined him in his room, stripping off his clothes, closing his eyes and envisioning … his mother! I would be open to him, taking his cock as Kay Parker had done with her son in the movie we had watched "together." He would envision my taking it in my mouth! There would be no music, except as our blood raced through our bodies in pulsating beats of forbidden joy!

I tiptoed toward his room and stopped in front of its door, noticing it was slightly ajar. I paused to look in the bathroom. The book was gone. I felt myself lured back to his inviting door.

I paused outside it and listened. I could not see anything.

I felt my heart beat faster. Should I peek? I could not resist. I pushed very gently on the door so that it moved just a little to reveal that portion of his dimly lit room where his bed was located.

He was lying there, totally naked, the book propped up close to his face with one hand. I urged the door to open just a little more and saw that his other hand was holding his semi-erect penis.

I stood there admiring my beautiful son's tall tanned body, feeling the thrill of anticipation and uncertainty. His hand played over the growing cock, sending a shiver down my back.

Goose bumps came next, as I recalled the time when I first realized he was watching me make love to his Dad's aroused cock. Now the roles were reversed as I watched the watcher!

I waited, assuming the erotic novel must be tracing a line of seduction by the mature woman as she became obsessed with her teenage son. Perhaps she would have observed him in his room, his eyes closed as he projected some unknown pornographic images before his mind and masturbated as she watched.

I grew wet at the thought of this. I am that mother!

Then my boy's cock was fully erect, a hard and angry beast, demanding forbidden sexual satisfaction.

Perhaps in the novel he was reading the woman had reached a point where she had aroused her son's sexual interest, her sexually charged body attracting his every thought and his hungry desire until finally … he approaches her.

Projecting myself into the role of that mother and Bobbie as the boy character, I imagined myself being caressed by my loving boy, his mouth moving from one erect nipple to the other, kissing, licking, sucking! Oh lord, mother and son!

But now he had thrown the book aside and let his own imagination take over. And he began a fierce whisper. "Yes, Mom, yes, suck me. I know you want to, so do it. Oh, yes, Mom, your mouth feels so good."

Quickly, I removed my panties. I touched myself there where there was suddenly a liquid outpouring as evidence of my rapid reaction to the hot incestuous words my son had uttered as he began to increase the rhythmic movement by which he was pleasuring himself.

"Oh, Mom, yes!" I heard him whisper. And then: "I'm going to make love to you Mom!"

My juices flowed as I watched him turn rapidly, hurling the pillow below to his groin and to commence a fucking movement into it.

I quickly opened my shirt entirely and massaged my naked bosom as my other hand was engaged in a rhythmic masturbatory motion.

I could feel my inner being swelling up with ecstasy, my mind and body afire with lust and more lust. Say more, I thought, say more!

"Yes, Mom, your boy is fucking you now!" he cried, as if he had detected my thought.

Hearing my boy's forbidden message, totally aroused by it, I felt an ache, a thirst, a demanding force within me that wanted to be satisfied.

It was a percolation of desire, a bubbling up of feelings that seemed to push me beyond my previously attained height of such forbidden sensation.

I knew that my son was now feeding his

own

desires and his

own

incestuous thirst! Oh, joy! To watch his self-pleasuring action and to listen to his daringly taboo expressions of mother-love!

Then I came with a crescendo, a torrent of successive small orgasms as I watched his juices spurt across his belly.

I retreated from the door. The episode had ended for both of us.

All the next day I wondered what might happen next. Bobbie seemed interested in me, but largely confined himself to masturbation sessions. I knew when they were in progress but, with his door shut firmly in each instance, I did not have an opportunity to observe him again. But I ached for more! I now wanted more than forbidden sights and taboo words!

Then, the following day, Don informed us at breakfast that he would not be coming home that evening. He said something about having to go out of town, but I hardly attended to the details of his explanation.

As soon as he had announced it, Bobbie and I had looked at each other keenly.

I was filled with tingly anticipation as the evening approached.

I informed Bobbie that I would be taking a shower and then retiring early to bed. He nodded and indicated that he would do the same.

In the shower, and in further preparations, my excitement began to shift into high throttle. Looking at myself in the long mirror at the bathroom door, I admired my long sultry legs and my shapely breasts.

One of my careful preparations had been to partially shave my bush so that now my blond hair was cut short down below, making my labia more visible to any interested party who chanced to take a peek!

I slid into a new pair of red lacy panties with an open crotch and then a matching shelf-bra that allowed my ample but not huge breasts to be partially exposed – again for any interested party! Finally, I slipped into a new pair of red slut shoes. The entire matching set came from a sexy catalogue published by a discrete firm that I had dealt with before.

As for the shoes, they were stiletto "to the max."

Then I looked at myself in the mirror again.

What man or boy could resist? All that I had admired in myself when nude now became more sexually potent.

There were the full breasts that now were not completely on display, giving a lover something to anticipate removing. And then there was the open crotch! Ooh la la! And the shoes! They sent a message: I'm a sexy babe who wants to be taken to bed and be made love to in every way possible!

Then I was off to bed. I lay there, having arranged the position of my body for the benefit of the watcher who would soon arrive, I was sure.

He had showered, I knew. Now I heard the music playing loudly from his room. It won't be long, I thought.

Then, suddenly, a total shock: A figure at the bedroom door! Don! My husband!

"Honey!" I exclaimed.

"Hey babe," he said quietly. "Trip called off …."

His eyes were fixed on what I was revealing, as planned – but not with him in mind!

He didn't ask me how it happened that I was in that position. Perhaps that would come later. Right now, he suddenly had something else in mind.

"Let me get a bite, then I'll take a shower, babe," he whispered, a hungry look on his face. Then he was gone, proceeding down to the kitchen.