I didn't intend it to happen, but like so many of these situations, a chance event began the process.
First, let me introduce myself. My name is Janice. At the time of writing, I am forty- two years of age. I am told I am a very attractive woman, but I leave others to judge that. I have been married for nearly twenty-five years. I have two sons who were born within two years of each other. After the birth of the second boy my husband, Gordon and I decided we would have no more children, so I had an operation to assure this.
From the early days of our marriage Gordon proved to be a more than satisfactory lover, so I have no complaints about that – or much else for that matter.
We live a fairly quiet life as a reasonably comfortably off middle class family. As a solicitor, Gordon has always managed to bring in a good income, and I have never felt the urge to take on employment myself. Apart from keeping the home well ordered I engage in voluntary work, including work with our Church.
So, there is nothing really exceptional about us. We have had what might be called some of the "standard crises" of family life, like illness, accidents and once, to my horror, my youngest son Steven was brought home by a policeman. He was caught stealing a bicycle bell from a local shop, but this event, once dealt with, soon faded into the background.
What I really want to tell you about began with something that probably happens in many families.
Once my sons learned by what means babies are born, they began to take an interest in what Gordon and I did in bed at night (and on other occasions the situation permitting). The two of them would creep up to our bedroom door and listen for any sounds of "baby making."
Now for good or ill they must have got a lot of entertainment from this because, firstly, Gordon and I engaged almost nightly in some form of sexual play and, secondly, because both of us are rather noisy lovers. Gordon is inclined to groan and tell me how he loves me, and I am a bit of a shrieker, and during orgasm I weep rather noisily. Anyone standing a hundred metres from our bedroom could hardly help hearing our pleasure.
I suppose we might have put a stop to their listening in, or at least, tried to, but rightly or wrongly, we did not. Apart from being amused ourselves at their inquisitiveness, we decided that they might as well know how much their parents loved each other, and after all, they would most likely be doing it themselves one day.
We always knew of their approach to our door because there is one floorboard that creaks, and one of them nearly always managed to tread on it. We also knew when they went back to bed, for the same reason.
So the years went by, on the whole, quite happily, and Gordon and I, unlike so many couples I have heard about, were still very ardent love makers. I think we must have experimented in just about every possible way sexually speaking, but we never seemed to tire of each other.
I suppose the simple truth is, I love Gordon and he loves me, and we want to express that love in every way possible, including the gamut of sexual possibilities, and fortunately, we are both very sensual people.
A change, or should I say, modification in the situation, came about through a couple of chance events.
One day Gordon, instead of going to his office, decided to stay home and work. It was in the days when we were just beginning to learn about the possibilities latent in computers, which enabled people to work from home, so Gordon was trying this out. All had gone far better than he had hoped, and he finished the tasks he had set himself fairly quickly.
He was in a happy, boisterous mood and, to cut a long story short, he quickly had me naked on the pile of cushions we have in one corner of our living room. We were enjoying ourselves hugely, and Gordon had coupled with me, when we got something of a shock.
Out of the corner of my eye, I suddenly saw my eldest son Tom, standing by the living room door. He was not supposed to be home for another three hours, but, as we learned later, his afternoon classes had been cancelled, so he had come home.
I tried to signal to Gordon but it was too late. He was groaning as he pumped his sperm into me.
When he finished I pushed him away from me and indicated Tom. We both lay there on the cushions stupefied.
It was Tom who saved the situation. In an amazingly mature way he simply said, "Parents, I think that was one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen."
Those words broke the moment of paralysis. To my surprise, Gordon started to laugh. I was taken aback by this, but gradually came to see the funny side of the situation. For all those years, our sons had heard our love making, and now at least one of them had not only heard, but also seen.
Tom joined in our laughter and as he did this, I looked across at him. It was then I noticed that there was a long, firm lump, pressing against the cloth of his trousers at the groin.
"The poor boy," I thought. "Seeing Gordon and I making love has aroused him." I wanted to help him, to gratify him. I was startled at my own thoughts and tried to drive them away. Part of the trouble was, I had not had an orgasm myself, so was still in a state of arousal and very wet. The thoughts would not go away, but I did not know what to do or say.
In a way, it was Gordon who brought about the next development in the situation.
Still chuckling he started to dress, saying to Tom, "So you liked what you saw?"
"Yes," said Tom. "If that is a way of sharing love, that's what I want to do."
Gordon must have noticed Tom's erection, and realised it was inspired by what he had seen Gordon doing to me.
Many fathers, I am sure, would have gone berserk at the thought of their son being roused by his mother, his wife. But Tom was a bit more knowledgeable than that. He understood that one of the first objects of sexual desire in a boy's life, is his mother.
Usually that desire become displaced to some other women when the boy realises the mother is not available. In some situations, however, the boy's desire for the mother comes to fruition. The mothers, sometimes excusing themselves by claiming that they are teaching their son the art of sex, open themselves to their sons. Whether this is for good or evil I believe depends on the circumstances, but from the little I have read or heard on the subject, such sons consider themselves fortunate to have had a mother so caring of their sexual needs.
As the situation now stood, I was still physically ready for penetration. My son was ready to take a women. I had always been faithful to Gordon and I am sure he to me. In part, it was in Gordon's hands what happened next, even if he was not fully aware of that.
Gordon looked across at me, then at Tom, then back at me with a querying look on his face. I took the chance that I had interpreted this look correctly, and gave a brief nod. Gordon then said, "I think I'll go and have a shower." He gave me another eloquent look, then nodding to Tom, left the room.
Tom made no move, so I extended my hand to him. He came across to me and took my hand, and I drew him down onto the cushions. I said no word, but just undid the zip of his trousers. His penis sprang out. I finished undressing him, and then said, "I've still got Dad's sperm in me, do you mind?" He shook his head.
I lay him back on the cushions and came across him, lowering my opening to the head of his penis, then let it slide in. Tom watched this process with a look of wonder on his face, and I realised I was taking his virginity. It was very sweet as I moved up and down on him. He made little noises of ecstacy interspersed with words like, "Oh mother, it's so beautiful…even more beautiful than it looked when I watched you."
I have always loved my sons, but never as much as in this moment of tender, sensual intimacy with Tom. I tried to express through my movements over his young manhood my loving, tender feelings for him.
It was Tom who brought me to orgasm and fortunately, it coincided with his ejaculation. He was so lovable as he cried out, "I love you mother, I love you…" I responded, "And I love you, my darling."
