Love Is Where You Find It 2

It devastated me when my husband left me for another woman. I couldn't understand why he would do this to me. For a very long time afterward I felt unattractive and alone.

After awhile I learned to accept the situation and move on but I felt very bitter inside. Whenever I would see apparently happy couples I felt a range of different feelings. Anger, jealousy,sadness; I felt them all at the same time.

I have a thriving catering business which serves the obvious purpose of keeping me fairly wealthy and it also helps to keep me from dwelling too much on my problems. Maybe that's why my husband left me. I always made more money than he did and I think his little male ego couldn't handle it.

One day, I was sunning myself in my backyard when a shadow temporarily blocked the rays of the sun that were tanning my still firm ( for a 44 year old body ) body. I looked to see who was there and my jaw dropped. It was my son!

"Mom, it's me Peter. How are you? You look great!"

I quickly became VERY conscious of the fact that I was only wearing a skimpy black bikini. I quickly put a robe on to cover myself. I couldn't help but notice that my son seemed a little disappointed when I did that.

"Peter, I'm allright I suppose. How are you? You look pretty good, yourself."

"Mom, I don't want to live with Dad and his new girlfriend anymore. Can I live with you? I can't stand the way that Ginger comes bewtween Dad and me."

My mind went into overdrive. Here was my only Son crawling back to me after a very messy divorce that pitted me against his Father, his girlfriend, my in-laws and my Son. I was tempted to kick his butt out into the street.

I was really hurt and angry by the way my Son had sided with my husband and his new girlfriend right after the divorce. Ginger was her name! Now that is a bimbo name if I ever heard one! But I looked at my 22 year old son and my heart melted. I threw my arms around him and gave him a kiss.

"Of course you can live with me, Peter! I've got plenty of room for you. When do you want to move in?"

"How about right now, Mom? I didn't exactly leave Dad and Ginger's house with much in the way of furniture." Peter gestured towards his duffel bag, laying on the ground a few feet away.

A few minutes later, my son Peter and I were sitting in my kitchen. I made him a grilled cheese sandwhich. His favorite.

It was almost like he was my little boy again. At the same time, I was filled with a sense of pride when I saw what a handsome young man he had turned into! I imagined his cell phone ringing at all hours of the day and night with girls trying to "hook up" with him.

Day drifted into night as my Son and I caught up with what was going on in our lives. I told Peter about my catering business. He asked me if I needed any help because at the moment he was between jobs.

I laughed and said, "Why don't you help me around the house? I could really use a hand with the housework, especially in the garden." All of a sudden, an image flashed through my mind, an image of my Son doing yard work in the hot sun, without a shirt on.

I shook my head in order to clear that image out. I was disturbed that I would think of such a thing! But I could not deny that for a brief moment, I was turned on by the thought of my Son.

"Is everythink O.K., Mom? You looked a little freaked out for a second." A look of concern was on my Son's incredibly handsome face.

"I'm - I'm fine, Peter. I guess I'm a little overwhelmed that you're going to be living with me again, after all this time. How old did you say your Father's girlfriend is?"

"She's 23, Mom. Just a year older than me. I think she's a model or something like that."

I got up from my chair and walked towards the bar in the family room. I motioned for my Son to follow me. I needed a drink. I think we both did.

"I guess you're old enough to drink this stuff legally now, Peter." I poured him a glass of whiskey that was left over from when his Father still lived with me. Peter looked like he couldn't believe his eyes.

"Oh, wow, Mom. I can't believe your letting me drink this stuff. Don't you remember what happened when I was 16 and I drank a couple of glasses in one minute?"

I remembered VERY WELL what happened. AFTER I poured him the drink and it was too late to take it back. At the same time, the memory was turning me on.

"Yes Peter. I remember. I hope you learned your lesson."

Peter was laughing so hard, I thought he might turn color. He reached out and gently touched my arm. It was then that I realized I had taken off my robe and was now standing before my Son in nothing but a black bikini!

When had I taken off my robe? I couldn't remember. And I was now filled with the distinct impression that my Son definitely liked the way I looked in my bikini!

"Come on, Mom. I was so drunk, back then, I'm not sure what really happened. Tell me what happened."

I let out a long sigh. I had almost forgotten that night when my Son had gotten into our liquor cabinet. The very same one that I was serving him from now.

"What happened, Peter, was that you pretended to "kidnap" me. You don't remember? You tied me up like one of those girls in those "bondage" magazines that your Father used to buy by the truckload!"

"I did THAT?! I thought I dreamed that. What else did I do, Mom?"

"I started to yell at you and demand that you untie me. You said that I was talking too loud and was going to wake the whole neighborhood up. Then you took it upon yourself to PUT YOUR HAND OVER MY MOUTH!"

All of a sudden, Peter seemed to spring into action like a cat. Before I knew it, he was behind me. His left arm circled around my waist, pinning my arms to my sides. His right hand covered my mouth, just like it did on that night so many years ago.

"You mean like this, Mom? Is this how I put my hand over your mouth back then?" Both my Son's breathing and penis had suddenly become very hard.

I couldn't have screamed to save my life. But I wasn't afraid of my Son. I was afraid of me and the undeniable arousal that I was feeling.

For the next minute, my 22 year old Son held me, his 44 year old Mother, in a bear hug and all I was wearing was a skimpy black bikini. His hand was pressed over my mouth so hard that it tilted my head up, stretching my throat out. If he wanted to strangle me, he could have done it easily. I made a muffled "MMMPPPHHH" sound.

Slowly, reluctantly, my Son took his hand off of my mouth. He kept his other arm around my waist, however. I wasn't going anywhere until he let me.

"I'm sorry, Mom. I don't know what came over me. I've never stopped thinking about that night that I tied you up and put my hand over your mouth. When I saw you in that bikini, I just had to do it again. Can you forgive me, Mom, please?"

Peter took his left arm off of my waist. I turned to face him. He looked like a little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Peter, we're both adults now. What happens between us, here in this house, behind closed doors is our business and no one else's. I haven't been tied up or even kissed by a man since your Father left me."

Peter seemed to relax visibly. I stepped up against his muscle bound body. I rubbed his cock.

The next thing I knew, Peter's hand was back over my mouth. This time, I was ready for it. I kissed the palm of his hand as it covered my lips and then I gently pulled his hand off of my mouth.

"Peter, I know that you want to put your hand over my mouth. I want you to put your hand over my mouth, I want you to gag me, I want you to tie me up, I want you to fuck me. I want it all. But not tonight. I want us to take it slow so that we can get our minds around what we're doing. O.K.?"

All Peter could do was nod his head "yes" over and over again. I stroked his cock through his jeans with my hand and then sent him off to his new bedroom with a playful slap on his tight buns. Tomorrow was going to be a very interesting day indeed!

The night passed too slowly for me. I was having a hard time sleeping. I could hear my Son tossing and turning in the next room. I guessed he couldn't sleep either.

When I did sleep, I had incredibly powerful dreams of my Son tying me, gagging me, raping me. I woke up with a start. I told him that I wanted to take it slow. Who was I kidding? I wanted my Son to fuck me right now!

Somehow, I managed to get back to sleep. The morning came. I went to my big walk-in closet to pick out an outfit that my Son would like.

I changed into a pair of tight, white shorts. They were so short, they looked more like bikini bottoms than shorts. I smiled as I slid into them.

Next, I put on a little, black halter top. I may have had the breasts of a 44 year old Mom but this tank top made them look good. I topped off the look with a pair of black, four inch high heels. I took a few minutes to test my ability to walk around in them without falling. I passed the test with flying colors.

I opened my bedroom door and walked downstairs to the kitchen, where my Son was already waiting for me. He was wearing a black, sleeveless, muscle tee shirt that showed off his gorgeous, muscular arms. He also had on some skin tight blue jeans that showed off his muscular thighs and his tight butt. I wanted my Son's huge arms to grab me. I wanted my Son's strong hands to cover my mouth. I wanted to hear my own muffled screams as his cock rammed into me.

"Take it slow, huh?", I said to myself.

At this rate, I was going to be fucking my Son by the end of the day. It had been a VERY long time since I had been fucked by a man. My resistance was a joke that I had told myself so that I could somehow pretend that I didn't want to fuck my own Son, right here, right now.

My train of thought was de-railed by the sound of a breaking glass. My Son was looking at me with his mouth open. His hand was still in the same position that it was in when he had accidently dropped the glass of orange juice that he had been holding.

"I'm sorry, Mom. I guessed it must have slipped."

"Slipped, huh? I wonder what could have caused that?"

"Do you have to ask, Mom? I mean, look at you. You look fantastic. I'm so hard right now, that it actually hurts."

"Honey, don't worry about it. It's only a glass. I've got a kitchen cupboard full of them. How about you and me get something to eat?"

I stepped up to my Son and kissed him, ever so lightly, on the lips. His cock was poking out through the tight jeans that he was wearing. All he could do was nod his head up and down.

I took him by the hand and led him out to my car. As we did, we passed the full length mirror in the hallway. I was really enjoying the power I had over my Son.

He was so much bigger than me, stronger than me, younger than me. If he wanted to, he could have grabbed me and raped me right there in the hallway. But he didn't. Instead, I led him out to my car like I did when he was still my little boy.

I drove towards a little sidewalk cafe near our house. I drove with the convertable top down. I hadn't put the top down in years. I felt so free, so naughty, so GOOD!

"After we eat, what do you want to do today, Peter? I'm all yours, today."

"Oh, Mom. It feels good to hear you say that. I want you so bad."

Peter's hand slowly stroked its way up my thigh. I bit my lower lip as I tried to drive my car and enjoy what my Son was doing to me, all at the same time. I barely made it, without crashing, to the rooftop of the parking garage that was next to the cafe that we planned to eat at.

I parked the car and took up two parking spaces. I didn't care. Peter reached over and pressed the button that put the top up. Now, my Son, Peter and I were somewhat hidden from view.

I moaned as my Son massaged my pussy through the skimpy shorts that I was wearing just for him. I screamed as Peter gave me the most intense orgasm that I'd had in years with just his hand! The echo of my scream sounded throughout the whole parking garage.

Suddenly, Peter's other hand covered my mouth, silencing my scream, but making my orgasm even more intense than it already was. I watched him as he pulled a red bandana from his back pocket. He let go of my mouth and grabbed me by the throat and squeezed. My Son choked me until my mouth opened wide as I gasped for air. Then, my Son forced the bandana deep into my mouth. It was then that I discovered that I actually enjoyed it when my Son choked me and then gagged me! All thoughts I had about "taking it slow" went right out the window!

"Mom, I know you want to take it slow, but I can't help myself!" My Son squeezed my breasts through the skimpy halter top I was wearing. My pussy was soaking wet. I wanted my Son inside me and I wanted him NOW!

I motioned for my Son to take the bandana gag out of my mouth. He took the gag out of my mouth, but he took his sweet time doing it. Clearly, my Son didn't really want to take the gag out of my mouth.

"Take us home, Peter. Oh, honey, I want you as much as you want me. Start the car!"

My Son, Peter, didn't have to be told twice. He pushed the gag back into my mouth, shoved me down across his lap, started the car with a roar, and zoomed back out of that parking garage at what seemed the speed of light! His left hand steered the car while his right hand probed my breasts.

In a few minutes we were safely inside our garage at home; out of sight of the neighbors, and thanks to the gag in my mouth, out of earshot. Peter couldn't wait to start fucking me. His hands moved swiftly over my body, taking my clothes off, as they went.

I returned the favor. In a matter of seconds I had stripped his clothes off and gazed upon his muscular 22 year old body. The next thing I knew, Peter had laid me down on the garage floor and was thrusting his pulsating cock into my pussy.

Again and again, he rammed himself into me. The sound of our heavy breathing seemed so odd given that it was in our garage. My Son pulled the gag from my mouth and gave me a kiss like I hadn't had in years. His tongue probed my mouth as if it had a mind of its own. Seconds later, he shoved the gag back into my mouth.

I felt a torrent of his hot cum flow into me like a river. At that moment, I felt very glad, that I had just finished going through menopause, so pregnancy would not be an issue. I thrusted my hips upward like a piston. I wanted my Son's body so badly, that if I could have somehow absorbed his entire body into my pussy, I would have!

I motioned for him to take the gag from my mouth.

"Let's continue this in my bedroom, honey, ok?"

"Ok, Mom. Hurry. I want to do it again."

I took him by the hand, and together, we scampered, naked, through the house! A minute later, we were in my room. A second after that, my Son threw me onto the bed and dove on top of me.

"Give it to me rough, Peter! Please, don't hold anything back." In an instant, Peter's hands were around my throat, squeezing it tight.

"You like it when I choke you, don't you, Mom?", asked Peter, with an evil looking grin on his face.

"Y-Y-Yes, baby. Please choke Mommie some more."

I almost passed out as my Son's powerful hands squeezed my slender throat. The feel of his wonderful cock sliding into my sex starved pussy brought me back to full awareness. I screamed as I orgasmed for what seemed like the 100th time in the last hour. Once again, my Son clamped his strong hand over my mouth. Once again, my screams were muffled. I felt like my Son was choking my orgasms out of me.

I felt a sense of dismay as my Son pulled his cock out of me, let go of my throat, and took his hand off of my mouth, all at the same time. I worried that I had done something to displease him. I didn't have to worry for long. Peter's tongue began probing my clitoris with a skill unmatched by ANY man that I had ever been with!

After a few wonderful minutes of being tongue-fucked by my own Son, I heard him begin to moan loudly.

"Oh, Mom, I'm going to come!"

I pushed him on his back and took his erupting cock deep into my mouth. I felt my Son's semen pour deep into my throat as I sucked hungrily. He began to moan, loudly.

Just then, I thought about how this was a perfect opportunity to cover HIS mouth. While continuing to keep his cock in my throat, I reached up and clamped my hand over my Son's mouth. Peter moaned with ecstacy under my hand. I took his cock out of my mouth for a moment.

"What's the matter, honey? Cat got your tongue? Won't your Mommy let you talk?", I taunted him.

"MMMPPPHHH" was all he could say. I put his cock back into my mouth. I found out that I liked covering my Son's mouth, every bit as much as he liked covering mine. And after all, I couldn't very well let the neighbors hear him moaning, could I? And, judging by how much harder his cock got when I clamped my hand over his mouth I knew he liked having me, his Mom, put her hand over his mouth.

My Son and I fucked each other all the rest of that day and well into that night. For some people, that may be wrong. But for us, it feels very right! My Son is the love of my life and I am the love of his life.

A few weeks later, I surprised my Son with a pair of his and hers "commitment" rings. I'm happy to report that neither one of us has taken our ring off since the day I brought the rings home. Maybe our neighbors think that we spend a lot more time together than most Mothers and Sons do. I don't know. What I do know is that my Son, Peter and I love each other very much, in every way possible. Physically. Mentally. Emotionally. Sexually. We recently had some words engraved on the inside of our "commitment" rings. What words, you ask?

"LOVE IS WHERE YOU FIND IT."

THE END.