AN:
Ah, March. Just noticed that every story I posted was in March. Wonder if it's a seasonal thing? Like the mood to write only strikes me during this time of the year or something.
Anyway, I took some damage posting in Loving Wives, and to recover I just HAD to finish this little tale before my writing mood evaporates again. Keeping it in the family as it were and all that.
I hope you'll enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it!
Saturday 11 p.m.
I find myself wondering how the hell this came to pass.
Where did I go wrong?
Perhaps it was in the way I raised him. A little too doting as it were. Thinking back, that might be it.
I'd grown comfortable. Taking for granted that despite being my son, he's still a man.
My husband had scolded me time and again for dressing inappropriately in front of our children, and this is the result; my twenty-year-old son fondling his own mother while she's sleeping.
Or pretending to sleep.
Is this some elaborate April fool's prank? If it is, I'd say it's gone
way
the fuck over the line. I mean we've always done yearly pranks, escalating each time, but this...
How long has this been going on? Is it the first time?
Valid questions.
Another good one would be why I'm not stopping him.
Could it be that I'm enjoying his hand rubbing my still covered pussy? Or maybe the sound of him stroking his cock, silently moaning in pleasure, stirs something inside me? Familiar feelings that hadn't been felt in quite some time.
Horniness. Arousal.
Yes.
I'd forgotten this...
Given it up for a loving husband. A devoted, caring, husband. A husband that I probably don't deserve, but was blessed with.
And also, a husband that condemns recreational sex.
A husband that believes sex serves no purpose outside of reproduction.
At first, I'd been frightened. Someone like me, being with a saint like him? The mere thought was laughable.
But the way he'd desperately pursued me, was charming. He'd wanted
me
, not just my body. Different than the hordes of guys I were fucking at the time.
And so, I'd given it a shot. I'd dated him, and before I knew it the urge to constantly have a hard cock inside me had diminished somewhat, with more than a little help from therapy of course. I'd given it up. All for the man I loved.
But now...
The weight of carrying a years long sexless marriage is about to break me... in the form of my own son.
I almost moan out loud when Casey shoves his face into my crotch and furiously beats his meat.
The smell of raw cock... How long has it been?
The musky odor hangs heavy in the air...
I'm tempted to open my eyes. Just a peak...
I want to see this cock.
Fuck! No angle...
I'm on my stomach in a loose grey tshirt and panties, my son at the foot of the bed.
There's no way he won't notice me turning my head. But perhaps I should...
No, that would end this...
But it should end.
Should it?
It's wrong.
It feels right.
Your son...
He started it.
Stop...
Not yet... No no no, I want to see how far he'll go... Such a shy personality, no girlfriends unlike his older brother. To say that this is surprising would be an understatement.
And to think he'd have the courage to do this, to his own mother...
"Oh Mom... You smell so good..."
His voice startles me. The words bringing attention to the fact that I'm dripping wet...
Stop him!
Not yet...
I bite my lip when he sucks on my covered pussy.
How bold... Isn't he afraid I'll wake up?
The sound of his movements speeding up provide me with an answer.
Oh, the baby's so horny... Too far gone...
All of a sudden, the cloth covering my pussy's a nuisance. Why didn't I go to bed naked? With husband up north for the weekend, I had the freedom to do so without fearing another heated argument.
Oh well, not like I could've foreseen this.
It's like he's trying to devour my crotch, digging his face deeper and deeper. I feel his tongue desperately seeking entry to his mother's drenched folds as my cheeks envelop him.
So fucking good!
A familiar heat builds up from my core that gives rise to a tingling sensation. It spreads down my thighs, my calves, curling my toes. Simultaneously it moves up my stomach, tightening around my hard sensitive nipples.
I suppress another moan as the first signs of orgasm approach...
Shit, I can't hide this...
Before I explode, my son beats me to it.
He grunts and the irresistible pressure on my pussy suddenly disappears.
Please no! Just a little more...
My silent screams are ignored and his hands grasping my legs, go lower and lower. He places that warm cock between the arches of my bare feet and starts stroking.
It takes mere seconds for my boy to release his load all over my feet. But seemingly not just satisfied with that, he moves up a little and splashes my thighs, ass, and panties full of hot cum.
Holy fuck, that's a lot...
The raw, soapy, animal-like smell overwhelms me and a small voice is inevitably let out.
The voice doesn't go unnoticed by my son.
He practically trips over himself in his rush to retreat.
Before even remotely thinking of consequences, I scoop the heavy liquid off my thighs and ass, bringing my hand to my mouth.
"So fucking delicious..."
Like someone possessed, I devour my son's load, moaning in delight at the familiar taste of thick, creamy cum.
Eventually my hand comes up empty and I roll onto my back.
Lifting my legs, not one to waste a snack, I bring my wet and dripping feet closer.
In a lustful delirium, I lick the yummy cream from between my toes, dragging my tongue across the soles, not missing a single drop.
The restlessness sets in.
I drop my legs and squeeze my thighs together, clenching my fists.
"Fuck!"
A ferocious heat enfolds my pussy, and a deep itch starts to irritate the walls.
I think back to that warm cock between my feet not long ago.
My baby's really got an impressive package.
I want it!
Shifting the panties to the side, I unceremoniously shove two fingers into my folds and start pumping.
My other hand gropes my tits and furiously pinches my hard nipples.
It's not enough!
My mind drifts off and shatters. The smell of sex heavily permeates the room.
That really was a big load...
Does he not take care of it regularly?
Reminds me of that time...
As I drown in lust, I think back on my reckless younger days.
The last time I was covered in cum was at a boyfriend's birthday party. He'd passed out drunk and I'd taken such good care of all his friends...
That was so much fun...So much delicious cock...
More! More! More!
It's impossible to calm this kitty now that it's been stirred. But the lack of hard cock compels me...
With my feet! So kinky!
And with thoughts of my slutty past intermingling with thoughts of my son, I spend my time drowning in frustrated pleasure for hours and hours until the sun comes up...
Monday 12 p.m.
I stare blankly out the window of my corner office.
This is a problem...
Twice.
Twice I had to 'take care of my needs'. And the day is only halfway done!
Thankfully no one seemed to have noticed my flushed appearance whenever I had to take a break. But that won't last. With increased frequency, the chances of being discovered rise dramatically. And there
will
be increased frequency.
Hypersexuality, nymphomania...
Whatever you want to name it, it had taken many months of intensive therapy to treat my condition.
Naturally, I'd kept it hidden from the family. Those early days of marriage were extremely painful. The number of times I'd nearly cheated are countless, but ultimately I'd endured, placing my wedding vows first.
There
is
no enduring this...
I can tell. This 'relapse'... It's too much.
Should I tell Keith the truth? Work through it together as husband and wife?
No... That wouldn't be wise. He's honest to a fault. The moment I fess up, it's intervention time. The whole family—scratch that—the whole community would get involved.
I can picture the barely concealed looks of contempt on their faces as they get together to 'pray for my salvation.'
Fuck that! I'm not going through that.
But what then...?
I rack my brain for ideas, grasping at anything from dildos and sex dolls, to hypnotism and the occult.
More therapy?
No. Can't hide that.
Find a regular 'toy', to relief my daily needs?
...Tempting. Too fucking tempting... But no.
In my sex depraved soul, the vestiges of love for my husband are still lodged in there; under a mountain of lustful need.
That familiar tingling in my kitty is starting up again... Like a clock that keeps ticking no matter what I do.
Seduction.
My eyes widen at the sudden epiphany.
Yes.
That might work.
If even my own son can't resist my middle-aged body, then my husband—the man that hasn't
had any
for years—stands no chance.
Own son...?
"Fuck!"
No no no, I'm not ready to process that just yet. Let me live in denial a little bit longer.
My son had slept over at a friend's house the past two nights. This morning he'd just shown up for a few minutes, avoiding eye contact before disappearing to his college classes.
Presumably he's not aware I know.
What am thinking...? The boy
came
on me without cleaning up. He
knows
.
No matter. I'll deal with it later. Mainly because I don't know
how
to deal with it. For now, I'll leave my son as the second problem. The first...?
I need sex! Desperately.
Self-indulgence can only take the edge off for so long.
How to go about the seduction plan...
It's not like this would be my first attempt. Every now and then throughout the years, the kitty would purr a little for attention. It doesn't compare to my current condition, but at those times I'd tried seducing Keith... It had only succeeded the first couple times—naturally giving birth to my children—but then nothing.
It was shocking; the level of restraint my husband had grown.
Normal tactics won't work.
