Mother Son Date Nights

I kept fussing over my hair, trying to make it look perfect for tonight. It was date night with my Son Timothy. Ever since he was a small child, I took him out for a special mother-son evening every other week, and tonight was our night out.

As I fussed over my hair, Kevin, my husband, watched with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Ewww, someone is ready for their big date with our Son. It's your third date since he turned eighteen. You know what date number three means."

"Kevin, this isn't one of your Literotica stories. This is just mother-son bonding time."

"Oh, what's wrong with the stories I read on Literotica? You read a lot of those stories, too."

"Yes, but I read from the romance section your freaky ass is always on the incest and loving wives pages."

"Hmmm, that does sound like me. But hey, I saw the lingerie and dress you plan on wearing. That seems like third-date material to me."

"Ugh, it's not our third date. We have been on hundreds of mother-son dates and a few mother-son weekend trips as well. Yet here you are with your perversions, trying to turn something wholesome into something sexual." I said as I finally put the last bobby pin in place.

"Hey, I'm not the one in a short green dress on a date with a teenage boy." My husband teased. This was nothing new to me. I knew he had an incest fetish from early on in our dating life, but I also knew it would never be fulfilled due to a lack of options. Kevin had grown up an orphan in the foster system, and a childhood accident left him infertile, so he would never produce children of his own.

To get pregnant with Timothy, I needed to use a sperm donor, and to Kevin's disappointment, the donor was not a family member of mine, nor did I have sex with the anonymous donor.

I gave my husband a stern look, saying, "You sure do talk a big game, mister, but what would you say if I woke you up after one of these dates and told you I'd had sex with Timothy?

"Hmmmm, I'd think I was having a nice dream," Kevin said, laughing.

I huffed and returned to the mirror to work on my makeup. In truth, there was a lot I had not told Kevin about our mother-son dates. Starting about ten weeks ago, only six weeks before Timothy's eighteenth birthday. That was when our mother-son dates had become a little less... wholesome.

Ten weeks ago

My Son had taken me to our favorite bowling alley for our date night. We had been to this place many times before and enjoyed competitive games of bowling and pool with each other, as we were roughly the same skill level.

On that night ten weeks ago, Timothy made his first move.

"Eww, we're all tied up after nine frames. Let's make a bet, Mom," Timothy said to me. Making a bet on our games was nothing new. It usually involved small pocket cash or a back rub. A few times, Timothy won the right to stay out after curfew. It was never that big a deal, so I agreed.

"Alright, mister. If I win, I want a thirty-minute foot massage." I said, looking forward to having my feet taken care of.

"Deal, but if I win, then on our dates from now on, I want to call you Dani instead of Mom, and you call me Tim instead of Timothy."

"That's an odd request," I said. I thought it over briefly, but seeing no apparent downsides, I agreed.

A few minutes later, Tim beat me with a score of 173 to 171.

I shook off the defeat and challenged him to some pool games. Tim eagerly agreed and set up the table while I ordered another round of food and sodas.

Two games later, I sank the eight ball for the second game in a row. "Ah! I win again!" I shouted. "Keep losing like that, and I'll have to go back to calling you Timothy on our dates."

"Oh, you wanna bet?" My Son asked.

"Sure, let's make a bet. If I win, I get that foot massage," I said, fully confident in my playing abilities tonight.

"Alright, and if I win, we will call each other Dani and Tim from now on--not just on dates but at home and everywhere else as well, " my Son said with a smile.

"Ya, ya, you're not going to win Buster. Now rack'em, I'll break."

Eight minutes later, I watched Tim sink the eight ball. I felt unbelievably hustled. My Son, whose butt I had been kicking all night, didn't even let me have a turn. After I broke, I watched as Tim called and sank every shot perfectly, leaving all seven of my balls on the table.

After he sunk the eight ball, I walked over to him and started pounding on his broad chest. "Not fair, not fair, not fair. When did you get so good at pool?" I said

"Ha! I've been practicing." Tim said. Then he grabbed my wrists to stop me from beating on his chest, saying, "But hey, how about we go home, and I give you that foot massage anyway?" I let out a slight squeal of joy; my aching feet would get taken care of.

*****

Finishing my makeup, I dropped my tan bra, temporarily exposing my c-cup breasts and earning a whistle of appreciation from Kevin on the bed. Loving my husband's praise, I walked over to him topless. I grabbed his hand and guided it up my outer thigh. When it reached the hem of my panties, Kevin pulled them down for me, exposing my shaved pussy to him.

"Hmmmm," my husband said, inspecting his wife's pussy. I crawled on top of my fully clothed husband, placing my pussy above his clothing-trapped cock.

"You know you're the only one to ever fuck this pussy, sweetie. I've been your faithful girl since high school." I started shifting my hip in circles, rubbing myself all over my husband's sweatpants. "Yet here you are joking about letting our son fuck this pussy that's only ever been yours." Kevin let out a slight moan as I felt his dick jump. Smirking, I just said, "Pervert." Then dismounted my husband.

"Hey, Dani," Kevin said, a little more serious now. "If anything happened, you would let me know, right?"

I didn't immediately say anything.

Eight Weeks Ago

I was so proud of my Son, but I was also terrified. Earlier that day, he had taken the Oath of Enlistment for the United States Army. Tim was going to be a helicopter mechanic, hoping to become a helicopter pilot after serving four to six years enlisted. He was set to ship out to basic training a couple of months after he graduated high school.

The ceremony was part of the pre-game events at a local college baseball game. It was mid-spring, and the weather was gorgeous. Tim decided that we would watch the game for our date and then go hiking on the nearby trails.

Tim laughed and socialized with the other recruits while getting more handsy with me than usual. I was accustomed to warm hugs and being guided from my back by my Son. However, his hand found a place on my leg.

At first, it was just my knees, but soon, he started to place his hands on my inner thigh and leave it there. I discretely adjusted my Son's hand, but he would follow it up by stretching, then lower his arm behind me so he could place his hand on my butt. Not wanting to create a scene, I just left his hand on my butt until he moved and started the whole process over again.

I decided not to say anything to Tim and just finish the date with him. I had been dressed in light clothing for hiking, as our next destination was a local hiking trail. However, on the trail, Tim took the most challenging path, a level of difficulty I was not accustomed to.

While hiking, Tim's fondling of me increased. Tim helped me pass some of the rougher terrain, often with an unnecessary guide of the waist or boost to my butt. One time, I stumbled, and he caught me by my breasts. As I hung in his arms, I felt a small squeeze of my breasts before he lifted me up.

By the time we got back to the car, my patience with my Son had worn thin. It was not okay for him to be groping his mother. However, I was still conflicted about saying anything... until he started driving us home and put his hand on my knee again. Then I blew up, venting all my frustration.

"STOP THAT!" I yelled, shoving his hand away. "Stop groping me!" I again yelled at my no startled son.

"I was just uh." Tim started to say, but I didn't let him speak.

"You have been groping me all day, grabbing my ass at the baseball game. Touching me every chance you get on the hiking trail. Squeezing my boob when I tripped. Stop; a son shouldn't be touching his mother that way!"

We sat in silence for a while before Tim finally said, "Sorry," with a deflated tone.

My anger vanished, and I suddenly felt terrible for making my Son sad. The feeling was utterly irrational, but it's still what I felt. I leaned over to my Son's arm, giving it a hug. "Baby, you can't touch mommy like that. I'm your mom and married to your Dad. You can't touch me that way."

Tim was quiet for a second before replying, "I'm sorry, Mom. It's just that I have so much more fun with you on dates than I had with any of my girlfriends. I just kind of feel into the pattern with you that I have with them. Mary doesn't have a problem with me touching her, so I just kind of let things be natural with you as well. I'm sorry if it made you uncomfortable."

For some strange reason, mentioning Tim's current girlfriend, Mary, made me feel irrationally jealous. I loved Mary and thought she was a wonderful girl, but now I was envious of her.

"It's okay, Tim. Let's just go home," I said as I held onto my Son's arm the rest of the way home.

*****

"Ya, I'd tell you if anything happened." I lied to Kevin. The fact was, a lot had already happened, and I had gotten extremely nervous about tonight's date. I put on a pair of red silk panties, knowing all too well that there was a good chance Tim would get to see these tonight.

Six Weeks Ago

"AAAAAAA!" I screamed as we hung upside down on the single-loop carnival ride. This was followed by my stomach dropping as we were let loose and spun back to the bottom of the loop, only to go around once more before our momentum slowed down enough to allow the riders to disembark. "Ohh, I am never doing that again," I told my Son, standing beside me with a shit-eating grin.

The local carnival had set up shop at our mall, and Tim had decided it would be the perfect place for our date. It was a wonderful date idea. I had always loved carnivals after dark.

"Ya, that ride was great. I love it." Tim said, all smiles.

"How are you not sick?" I asked, feeling my stomach still moving.

"Oh, if I want to be a pilot, it will take a lot more than that to throw me off." As my Son spoke, I noticed his gaze settle on my chest. My c-cups were being held by a push-up bra and strapped down by a tight-fitting red tank top that tucked into my cut-off jean shorts.

"Hey, eye up here, mister," I said to my Son, shocked that I had to correct him on where to look. Not that he hadn't checked out my breasts before, but he never stopped to stare at them before now.

"Oh right... hey, look, hall of mirrors, let's go!" Tim said, not waiting for an answer as he took my hand and guided me to the next attraction. I felt a tingle in my pussy as my Son assertively took me to the next attraction.

We paid for our ticket to go in, and I was immediately lost. I had no idea where to go, which allowed Tim to take advantage of my confusion so he could "accidentally" bump into me several times, brushing into all different body parts with each bump. I felt myself getting excited. Having him test the boundaries with me was fun, as long as he didn't cross any lines.

The carnival was winding down for the night when we left the hall of mirrors. Tim took me to one more attraction, the Ferris wheel. "Dani, let's go for a couple of spins, " my Son excitedly said, once again grabbing me by the hand and leading me to our next attraction.

The guy running the ride gave Tim a wink as he loaded us up. I knew what he was thinking but didn't think saying anything to him would be worthwhile. We rode the wheel as it spun around a few circles, watching the city from a high, leisurely angle, then watching the carnival crowd as we descended. Tim and I were near the top of the circle when the wheel paused, overlooking our small town with the soft glowing lights sprinkled across the trees.

"Absolutely beautiful," Tim said.

"Yes, it is," I replied, looking back at my Son. Only then did I realize he had been looking at me this whole time. Without any notice, Tim closed the tiny gap between us and placed his lips on mine.

I froze in absolute shock as my Son gave me a one-sided kiss. Then, regaining my senses, I pushed him away and slapped him across the face. "Take me home," I said before looking away from him.

Once we were off the ride, I refused to touch Tim or even look at him. We drove home in silence. When we were in the house, I watched as Tim retreated to his room. Once I knew it was safe, I entered the master bedroom, where my husband was still awake, reading a book.

"Hey, welcome..." my husband started.

"Shut up and take off your pants, we're fucking." I commanded as I hooked my fingers inside the waistband of my own very wet panties.

*****

I stepped into my dress for the evening. It was a forest green Floral Jacquard Satin Lace-Up Mini Dress that stopped roughly five inches below my panties. My husband whistled appreciatively. "Wow, that's a dress you get lucky in, " he said, continuing his teasing.

In truth, I knew I looked like the high school slut going to prom. It excited me that I could look like that, being thirty-eight years old. "I'm not fucking our Son Kevin. You need to get those dirty thoughts out of your twisted head."

"Sure, but you'll at least kiss him, right? That was his birthday wish."

"I know it was his birthday wish, which was extremely inappropriate. Did you put him up to that?"

"Not one bit; great minds think alike, you know, like father like son or something like that."

But you're infertile; you know you're not his biological father

, I thought to myself, but I decided to hold back. "I will think about it."

Four Weeks Ago

"Happy birthday, dear Tim, happy birthday to youuuu!" I finished singing with Kevin as we looked on at our Son Tim, who was turning eighteen years old today. We watched Tim blow out the candles, clapping as he did so.

It wasn't Tim's official birthday party; it was just the three of us in the kitchen right before Tim took me on our mother-son date night. As I cut the cake, Kevin asked Tim, "What did you wish for."

"Oh, I'm not supposed to tell, right?"

"Come on, you can't expect your wish to come true if no one knows about it."

"Hmmm, I don't know; you might get mad at me, Dad."

"Since when have I gotten mad at you? Come on, just tell us."

"Okay, but first, promise not to get mad at me."

"I promise, son, now just tell us."

With his eyes slightly cast down, my Son said, "Well, I wished Dani and I could end our dates properly with a good night's kiss."

Instead of looking at my Son, my eyes shot to my husband. Kevin's gaze was already on me, light beaming from his eyes as he heard his own Son say he wanted to kiss his mother. I slightly shook my head, 'No,' but it was too late. I listened in disbelief as my husband said.

"I don't see a problem with that. Sweety, you have my permission to give Timothy a little good night kiss if he earns it."

"Absolutely not!" I protested, "Tim is my son; I shouldn't be giving him good night kisses like we are a couple."

"Dani, don't be that way. It's just a kiss. Nothing would happen with just a kiss good night," my husband said, clearly excited by this development.

I looked at my Son, who had a pleased look on his face, then back at my husband, who was starting to show a tent in his sweatpants. After a brief silence, I faced my Son. "Let's go, Tim. Your father isn't going to be any help here."

Tim took me to a coffee house hosting poetry readings for our date. The poets were not bad and kept us entertained for a few hours, but I was only half paying attention the entire time, as my primary focus was on my Son's birthday wish.

I only had to hold things together for a few more months, and Tim would be off to basic training with the Army. I knew that kissing my Son would be the wrong thing to do and could easily damage our relationship forever. However, I couldn't deny how hot and bothered his stolen kiss on the Ferris Wheel got me or the fact that I had a hard time telling my son 'no' to anything.

My mind was still in turmoil when the night came to an end, and I found myself standing outside my bedroom door, face to face with my Son. Looking up into Tim's eyes, I said, "Just one small kiss."

Tim smiled down at me, saying, "Okay."

I watched, transfixed on my Son's lips as they approached mine. He wrapped his hands around my waist as our lips made contact. A jolt of lightning shot down my spine as I started to kiss my Son back, only the second man I had ever kissed.

Our lips started moving together as my hands moved to his back, pulling him closer. I felt his tongue scrape across my teeth, looking for an entrance to my mouth, as my Son's hands moved to my butt.

I teased my Son for a tiny bit before slightly parting my mouth, allowing his tongue access to inside my mouth. In return, I moved mine and started invading his mouth, tying our tongues together as we dueled for position.

I continued kissing my Son, getting hotter and hotter, until I felt a strong desire to have sex. That's when I cut the kiss off and separated myself from my Son's grasp. Looking at Tim, I said "good night" and entered my bedroom, where my husband was sleeping.

I shook my husband awake, saying, "Take off your pants; we need to fuck"

"Hmmm, did you give our son a good night kiss at least?" Kevin asked.

"Stop being such a pervert and just fuck your wife," I said.

*****

I waved goodbye to my husband as I left for the living room. As I entered, I found my Son waiting for me, sitting on the couch watching his phone. He wore tan pants, a blue button-down shirt, and black dress shoes.

"Hey, sweaty, I'm ready to leave," I told my Son. Tim stood up, wordlessly placed his hand on my back, and guided me out the front door. When we were outside, I discreetly stepped in front of the doorbell camera to block its view as Tim leaned in to give me a brief but tender kiss on my lips.

Ever since our first real kiss, Tim and I have been stealing kisses from each other behind Kevin's back. It had become a little game for us to find places to steal a kiss or hide and make out in the closets of one of the bedrooms like teenagers. I let Tim's hands roam free during our closet sessions, but even for the quick kisses, he often grabbed a breast.

Tim guided me past his father's 2023 Hellcat, the car he always used to take us on mother-son dates... until our last date night. Last time, Tim took us on a date in his 1970 Oldsmobile Toronado that he had been rebuilding since he turned fifteen. The car's defining feature wasn't the engine, paint job, or interior, although Tim had done a fantastic job with all of them. No, the defining feature was Tim's extra wide bench in the back seat. It was a red leather seat that was one bench with no middle hump and no seat belts to get in your way.

Two Weeks Ago

Tim shocked me when he guided me past his Dad's yellow Hellcat and towards his metallic grey Oldsmobile. "Oh, we are taking your car today?" I asked, confused as to why there was a switch-up.

"Ya, I felt like I should be taking my date in my car. Dad's car is cool, but I feel better driving the car I bought and rebuilt." Tim said, smiling at me with an absolutely heart-melting smile. Tim walked me to the passenger side, letting me in the car and shutting the door behind me. He had told me to dress in a long skirt I could dance in. So I wore a flowy knee-length red skirt with a sequin tight-fitting top that exposed my arms and neck.