Mother & Son Celebrate Christmas

Warning: The Pretend Game is just a game of pretend. DO NOT PLAY THE PRETEND GAME AT HOME without professional supervision.

No characters in this story are underage. Mother is 49-years-old and her son is 28-years-old

*

To the tune of all I want for Christmas is My Two Front Teeth, all I want for Christmas is my son naked...and in bed with me.

Her nightly routine was falling asleep while or just after masturbating herself. Unable to sleep since her son left her for that other woman, the only way she could sleep now is when sexually fantasizing about him having sex with her. Dreaming of her son gave her some sort of sexual satisfaction if only by her own hand. Forcing herself awake before cumming, she dropped her vibrator and dildo to reach for the phone. She couldn't imagine who'd be calling her at this late hour.

"Hello?"

Still sexually excited from masturbating herself and half asleep from dozing while lost in her sexual fantasy of pretending that she was incestuously intimate with her son, Jerry, Janice answered the phone in a fog sleep mixed with horniness.

"Mom?"

Mom? Confused and not yet fully awake and convoluted in her thinking with someone calling her Mom, she thought that the phone call was from her mother from beyond her grave. It took her a long moment to realize that the caller had called her Mom and it took her another moment to realize that the caller was her son.

"Jerry? Is that really you?"

It was so good to hear his voice. After having masturbated herself nearly every night over the thoughts of him naked and in bed with her, now her nightly routine for her to fall asleep, she felt guilty sullying the image of him by masturbating over him. Broken hearted and sad after having lost all contact with him once he left with Cynthia and moved to California, she couldn't believe he was finally calling her after all these years. All she had left of him were her sexual, masturbation fantasies with him assuming a starring role, a role only played by her deceased husband many years before.

"Yes, it's me Mom," he said with excitement.

Suspecting that there was something dreadfully wrong for him to break his silence in calling her, she listened closely to his voice for any clue why he'd be calling her at this hour.

"Is there something wrong?"

Hurt, injured, and/or bleeding at the side of the road, she wondered if he had been in an accident. With neither one of them having been arrested before, a first time for everything, she wondered if he was calling her from jail and needed her to help him arrange bail. Her mind wildly raced wondering why he'd call her after all these years, especially so late. Too grateful for his telephone call for any anger that he hadn't called since he abandoned her for Cynthia wasn't even part of her motherly emotion and/or concern. She was just happy that he was calling now, especially when she was just thinking of him naked and in bed with her while sexually pleasuring her with her finger, her vibrator, and her dildo, aptly named, Jerry, after her son.

"There's nothing wrong Mom," he said nearly giddy with happiness. "I'm coming home for the holidays," he blurted out with excitement.

Home? Did he just say that he's coming home? Startled awake and rubbing the sleep from her eyes with the hopes that she still wasn't dreaming, she couldn't believe her ears. He's coming home. Her son is returning home for a visit. Such a wonderful Christmas surprise, she was so happy. Won't he be surprised to discover that she sold her old house to buy this modern condo?

"You are?"

As if he had been incarcerated in prison or away in a foreign country while at war, too good to be true, she couldn't wait to see her beloved son again after such a very long absence. Five years without seeing him and without even talking to him is a very long time. Never having contacted her during that time, she figured that he cut all ties with her because of Cynthia and/or because of the guilt that he felt for incestuously wanting her, his own mother. His wedding day that last time she saw him, was the day that he was all over her big, naked breasts with his horny, take no for an answer hands. Never forgetting that day that he so wanted her, she still masturbates over the thoughts of him seeing, touching, feeling, and groping her bare breasts.

"I'll be there tomorrow for Christmas Eve, actually being that it's so late, today is tomorrow," he laughed. "Only having to stop once from Los Angeles, not too bad, I'm in Chicago now. We had to change planes. I'll be home in a few hours. "

Christmas Eve? That's right. She had to jog her memory to remember that later tonight was Christmas Eve. Since her son left, Christmas has lost all meaning. Not much fun celebrating the holidays alone, she sometimes doesn't even remember what day it is until looking at a calendar. With no one to buy gifts for, he didn't even give her his address in California for her to send him something. Having nothing to give him for Christmas, before he arrived home, as soon as the stores opened, she'll run out and buy him a Christmas gift and she knew exactly what to buy him.

"You will? You'll be here in just a few hours?"

The excitement of a mother happy to see and to be reunited her son again, as if letting go of his hand and losing him in a crowd, was unexplainable. The excitement of a lover happy to see and to be reunited with her lover again, she felt as if they had been lovers when the most they've done is lust over one another. She couldn't wait to see him again. She couldn't wait for Jerry to return home and to be with her and where he belongs.

"Yes, I will. I'm coming home Mom," he said with excitement. "I miss you Mom. I love you."

'He misses me,' she thought to herself unable to believe what she was hearing. 'He loves me,' she thought to herself as if pulling pedals from a rose while thinking, he loves, he loves me not.

A first time for everything, never has he said that he loves her, not since he was a little boy and before his father died. Just an unspoken word, perhaps too painful for him to admit for fear that his mother would die one day too, she knew he loved her. Nonetheless, she always told her son that she loved him and she did, only she loved him more than a mother should love her son. Always and convolutedly blaming her, he was angry that his father was dead and wasn't coming home. Then, once he released the grief from his system and with him obviously realizing that it was just a car accident, they became close, no doubt by the realization that he could lose her in a car accident too.

With just the two of them making their way through life while grieving their loss of her husband and his father, mother and son became inseparable. Doing everything together, as if they feared losing one or the other too, it wasn't until Cynthia came along that they separated. Instead of a mother living alone with her son, was it any wonder why they'd develop such strong feelings for one another as a woman who loves her man and as a man who loves her woman?

Then after seeing the kind of woman that he was attracted to enough to marry, a cougar nearly twice his age, she couldn't help but wonder if he loved her not as a son who loves his mother but as a man who loves a woman. Until he groped her bare breasts on his wedding day, always guilty for the lustfully, incestuous thoughts she had, she always thought that she was the one who was sexually attracted to her son and not the other way around. In addition to being his mother, in the way that Cynthia was his woman for a short period of time, she'd love to be the only woman in his life.

Now that she knows that his preferred woman looks exactly like her, maybe things between them will be different. Perhaps with him obviously wanting her, maybe their relationship will be more open and honest. Maybe this time she'll be able to seduce him. Then, as if a phonograph needle scratching across a record, she thought of Cynthia.

"I love you too, Jerry," she said stopping herself from saying more than that.

She wished she could tell him all the sexual things that she's dreamt about doing with him. She wished she could tell him all the sexual things she wished she could do to him now that he's coming home. If only Santa knew how naughty she's been with her inappropriate thoughts for her son, surely she'd received coal and orange peels in her stocking.

"I'm so happy Mom. I can't wait to see you again," he said sounding as happy as he sounded sincere.

Daring herself to be just as aggressive as Cynthia had been in enticing her son away, she wanted to say something sexual but stopped herself with the thought of his evil, vindictive wife visiting her too. Wanting to make his visit a pleasant one and not an uncomfortable one with incestuous sex hovering in the background, she'd play it all by ear after he arrived. Wanting him to give her his address, phone number, and e-mail address before he left, she didn't want to go another five years without contacting her son. Afraid to ask the question, she needed to know the answer.

"What about Cynthia? Is she coming with you for a visit too?"

Gritting her teeth while awaiting for his unbearable response, she hoped Cynthia would remain in California. She hoped she'd fall in the ocean after an earthquake and, lost forever, be swept out to sea before being killed by a great, white shark in the way that Ahab was killed by Melville's whale, Moby Dick. A fitting end for the woman who stole the son, with her luck, Cynthia would poison the shark with her vile body and be found alive after being washed up on shore like so much trash making its way to the United States from Japan after the tsunami.

Her alter ego, wishing her dead, she hated that woman for stealing her son. Yet now that he's back, even if for just the Christmas holidays, all was temporarily forgiven, that is, until she had to sit across from the woman at the dining room table and politely converse with her over dinner. What the Hell did he see in that woman that he didn't already have at home with his sexually willing mother?

"Cynthia? No," he said painfully and with a long pause after saying her name. "We're divorced Mom. A long story, I'll explain later. I'll see you soon. I have to go."

Divorced? She couldn't believe her ears. Was she dreaming or did her son say that he divorced that bitch? Wishing she could have a detailed conversation now but needing to tell him that she moved, she'd wait until seeing her son before finding out all of the dirty details of his marriage and subsequent divorce.

"Wait," she said. "You don't know where I am. I sold the house and moved to a condo," she said.

"You sold the house? Wow! You moved. Wow! Where?"

"I moved to 33 Apple Blossom Lane, just across town. Let me give you directions," she said hoping he had a pen and paper and glad that she was able to keep her same phone number.

"Don't worry. I'll find you. I'm sure the cab driver knows the location," he said.

"It's a beautiful two bedrooms unit with two and a half baths, a screen in porch, and—"

"I gotta go to catch my plane. We'll talk more later," he said. "Bye Mom."

Not even giving her a chance to ask what happened between him and Cynthia for them to divorce or giving her the chance to ask him why he hadn't called her in five years, he hung up the phone without even waiting for her to say good-bye.

"Bye Jerry," she said to the dial tone while wishing he had told her that he loved her again.

* * * * *

Divorced? She couldn't believe he divorced that woman or maybe she dumped him. Curious to know who dumped who and why, she wondered what happened. Wishful thinking, she wondered if she had anything to do with her son dumping his look-a-like wife who looked so much like her.

Maybe he had been masturbating over seeing, touching, and feeling her tits in the same way that she had been. Maybe he had been distant with his wife from missing his mother. Maybe he had called his wife Janice or Mom more than once instead of Cynthia while they were making love. No matter who dumped who and why, ding, dong, the bitch of a witch is dead. No more Cynthia getting in the way of her spending time with her son.

She couldn't believe it. Her son was coming home for Christmas and God only knows how much longer he'll stay. Maybe she'll finally have the nerve to seduce her son. Maybe in the way that he put the moves on her on his wedding day when he touched and felt her naked breasts on the pretense of tickling her, he'll be horny and bold enough to try that again or to do even more. Maybe they'll live as man and woman until he finds someone to marry and give her grandchildren. Maybe he'll live with her happily ever after for the rest of her life.

Tired of masturbating herself with her vibrator and/or dildo while sexually fantasizing of being incestuously intimate with her son, she needed a real cock instead of a pretend one. With it having been years since she had sex, she's played the mournful widow by remaining faithful to the memory of her deceased husband for too long. With her son is the only man in her life, he's the only man able to pull her out of her sexual shell to make her feel like the sexy, loving, and vital woman that she still is.

It was obvious to her now that she needed her son's big, hard prick to complete her life and to continue to live with happiness instead of sadness. Perhaps because her son looked so very much like his father, feeling that it would be more permissible for her to have sex with her son, having sex with Jerry wouldn't feel as if she was cheating on David with another man. Being that her husband is dead, hardly cheating on him with anyone now that she's a widow and has been a widow for twenty years, she couldn't bear to be with any man other than her son.

Nonetheless who she had sex with or didn't have sex with, tired of playing The Pretend Game by herself, a game meant for two to play, maybe she'll coerce Jerry to play The Pretend Game with her. Tired of being so alone and feeling so lonely, maybe this time, with him just as horny and just as vulnerable as she is, she'll finally have the nerve to seduce her son instead of pretending every night that Mr. Dildo and Mr. Vibrator are him. Maybe this time, they'll have a bond between a mother and her son that no other woman can break. Maybe this time, he'll realized that he's always loved his mother and has always sexually wanted her all along. Maybe this time, he'll finally realize that his place is with his mother and by her side in her bed.

A long flight made longer with changing planes, he arrived early from the airport and she gave him the time that he needed to rest, get showered, changed, and to collect himself. It took her all the self-control that she had not to enter the bathroom on the pretense of giving him clean towels. Yet, not wanting to rush things, especially now with Cynthia out of the picture, she had plenty of time to seduce him. With him occupied in his room, she ran out to the store to buy him his Christmas gift. That evening, Christmas Eve, now that Jerry was settled from his long flight from Los Angeles to Boston, a grand reunion, mother and son relaxed in the living room. Being that Christmas was tomorrow, confronting the hopeful pleasures at hand, it was time for her to discuss their immediate and hopefully intimate plans for Christmas.

* * * * *

Not wanting to start in with Cynthia as their first topic of conversation after five years not communicating with one another, avoiding that incestuous loaded discussion for now, she was more interested and concerned with her son's health and wellbeing. Deciding to ask him an innocent and appropriate holiday question instead, so happy that he's here with her now, she looked at him with a motherly smile. Fortunately or unfortunately, really not feeling guilty enough to care, she couldn't help herself from thinking of all those times she pretended he was naked and in bed with her while having passionate sex with her when playing her game of pretend. As if undressing him with her eyes, as if he was already sitting there naked while wishing she was sitting there naked too, she looked at him and smiled.

"What do you want for Christmas Jerry?"

A rhetorical question being that she already bought him his gift, she wondered what he'd say he wanted for Christmas. Had she had more time to shop, she would have bought him more gifts instead of just the one. Yet, what she bought him, a gift they both could share, should more than suffice for now. Actually, instead of buying him anything, she knew that gift that she'd love to give him, if only she had the boldness to gift him such a thing and if only she knew that he'd welcome and appreciate such a brashly audacious, sexual move on her part.

Even after all this time apart and even after he married a woman who looked exactly like her, incest was a game that they both still needed to play. Before she could have sex with her son, she needed to know if he wanted her as much as she wanted him. With her making all of the moves in the past and with his only move being when he grabbed her naked breasts on his wedding day, she needed assurance that he still wanting her. She didn't want to ruin their mother and son relationship by spoiling it with incestuous, sexual pressure.

Instead of having a red letter branded on her forehead as if she was Hawthorne's Hester Prynne in The Scarlet Letter, Janice looked at her son as if imagining the Christmas gift that she'd like him to have, if only she dared. She envisioned giving him herself wrapped in nothing but clear cellophane with a big, wide, red ribbon tied around her ass and with smaller, red bows on her exposed, blonde, trimmed pussy and stuck on her hard, erect, pink nipples. Imagining the look of shocked surprised and hopefully sexual anticipation and erotic excitement on his face, she wondered what he'd say when he saw her wrapped in nothing but cellophane, red ribbon, and decorated with red bows.

As if she was his naked version of Scarlett Johansson, his dream woman, she wondered what he'd do when seeing her posing naked by the Christmas tree when he emerged from his bedroom to see what Santa brought him. Touching her and feeling her everywhere, with him having as much fun unwrapping her as she'd have in sexual excitement being unwrapped, she was so tempted to surprise him by gift wrapping herself in such a shockingly lewd and lascivious way. Using the holidays as her excuse and with her his welcome home gift, if only she had some wide, red ribbon, red bows, cellophane, bubble wrap, or enough Saran wrap on hand, she may consider doing just that. It aroused her just to think of exposing herself to her son in such a holiday way. Cynthia would never do something as daring fun as that.

"Mom! You're naked," she imagined him stating the obvious while staring at all that he could see of her through clear cellophane.

As if she was a more mature version of Naomi Watts, another favorite woman of his, posing naked for him in her cheesecake position with her hand behind her head and one knee up, she imagined her son staring at her as if she was a full course, Christmas feast. She wondered if seeing her naked would entice her son to get naked too. In the way that she'd love to suck him, she wondered if he'd lick her and eat her before making love to her. What man wouldn't be aroused by seeing a nearly naked woman posing in front of the Christmas tree even if that woman was his mother, especially if that woman was his mother?

Normally a woman of modest propriety and of high moral values, when it comes to her son, she's always been filled with horniness for him. Normally reserved and shy, she loses all manner of composure when it comes to Jerry, even enough to flash him constant and continual down blouses, down nightgowns, up skirts, and up nightgowns. Never wanting to flash anyone else, she's never flashed any man other than her son and her husband before him. Reminding her so very much of her husband, there's just something about Jerry that makes her want to do inappropriately, sexy things with him in the way that she did with David.