Thanks for all the feedback! I really appreciate it. Of course I can't write about everyone's fantasy but I hope you'll like it nevertheless.
*
"This has all gone wrong," I told the mirror, and my reflection more than agreed. Why was I putting on make-up, dressing up, generally making myself sexy... for my
son?
I was standing in our bathroom, adding the last touches of my seductive outfit that was to make Andrew take me as soon as he got home. The very thought of it made my pussy moist and I almost changed my mind again...
But no, this had gone far enough. I shed my see-through skirt and pulled my ridiculously small top over my head. I quickly walked back to my bedroom, finding some much more suitable clothes for a mom to wear when her son came home... though I kept the heels on. I just like how they sound when I walk, (okay, and how they make my ass look, but I was hiding that well-shaped ass under a pair of loose jeans, so no big deal!) is that wrong?
---
Andrew was not happy with my decision, not at all. When he came home, I met him in the hallway, determined to try to explain how a son fucking his mother is wrong. I got as far as: "Andrew..."
"How's that you're dressed?" he interrupted me with a disapproving look at my very unsexy clothes. His stern visage stopped my reasonable objections dead in my mouth -- suddenly all I could think about was how I was about to lose the best sex of my life... voluntarily! His angry eyes stole all willpower away from me.
"Ehh..." I mumbled, trying desperately to think of a probable explanation, "I- I thought..." Staring into my teenage son's eyes, I realised that no excuse was acceptable. Only my complete surrender and submission to his command would do.
Blushing scarlet, I did the only thing I figured might ease his anger: I knelt down before my own son, hoping that it'd be enough to get me back in his good graces.
How quickly I'd gone from deciding to end everything to humiliate myself in front of him -- I hadn't even been able to say my piece before he broke me, just by looking at me! Despite my good intentions there had been no discussion, no argument, no fight, just me completely submitting to him. Still wearing his coat, he looked down at me, his willing slut, with a smirk, clearly satisfied to see how his mere will literally had brought me to my knees.
"Maybe we should go through your clothes... see to that such a mix-up won't happen again," he told me, thoroughly pleased with himself. Well, who wouldn't be in his situation? My own pussy was very happy with how it had all worked out...
---
"Nope. No. Not that one either," my beloved son muttered, mostly to himself as the 'throw-away' pile grew taller and taller for every item of clothing he discarded... for every piece of
my
clothes he discarded! I winced as he took up my expensive, black Victoria's Secret-panties and studied them.
He was standing in my bedroom -- a place he'd had no business in just a few days ago but now walked around as if he owned it. Okay, admittedly he did...
He was throwing away all my 'boring' clothes -- boring to his eyes. Apparently everything that was comfortable to wear and didn't show off my body was too modest in his eyes. So far the pile contained almost all my panties and a lot of my bras (all those he'd come across without enough of a push-up effect to please him) and he was still only on the lingerie!
"Here, try these on, mom," he told me as he threw the flimsy panties to me. I was kneeling on the floor, watching as more and more of my collection of garments was being discarded by my commanding son. It was a very strange situation but there was no way I could tell him no; not only was my entire body aching for his touch -- and if I made him mad again, he might not give me what I craved! -- but he just... well, he was in charge. My clouded little mind was in no doubt about that.
"Yes," I eagerly agreed and picked them up, stood up and slid them on. It was a pair of tight, hip-hugging boy-shorts, very low-cut and made from a flimsy see-through material. They just oozed sex and I knew he could clearly see the outline of my pussylips -- especially now, as I was quickly getting them quite wet under his satisfied eyes.
"Keep them," he demanded after having studied my crotch intimately and turned back to my underwear-drawer and I once again knelt down, waiting for something else to model for him. Or whatever else he might require of me...
I was kneeling on the floor, just wearing the pair of spiked heels (they were at least 4" and was now the 'standard' -- all footwear with shorter heels was to be discarded -- "sluts wear high heels," as he'd said) I'd been wearing when he came home, the panties he'd just given me and a red push-up bra that gave me the cleavage he desired. I was gracefully allowed to keep on whatever he'd made me try on last -- hence the mismatching clothes... and me actually wearing anything!
"Heh, I guess that means you have one pair of panties left!" he laughed to himself as he threw the last of my underwear on the pile and reached the end. He looked at me and I forced a smile, showing nothing but acceptance and adoration.
Please fuck me before going on to the tops!
I tried to tell him with my eyes.
I don't think it worked though, mostly because he wasn't interested in my eyes; he was looking very hard down my cleavage. I guess it was fair though, my eyes were constantly darting from his eyes to his crotch, hoping to catch a glimpse of the manhood I'd become so addicted to. Was it hard? It was difficult to tell through the jeans he wore but I think I could see the outline of his long cock. It looked good... it looked promising!
"Phew, I need a break," he told me, still staring at my tits, "this is thirsty work... I need a drink."
"Would you like a coke, dear?" I asked, trying to sound humble and pleasing. If I could please him, he might do that same for me...
"No, beer. Men don't drink coke!" he said, sounding insulted that I had insinuated he wasn't man enough for a beer.
"Sorry!" I smiled, "So silly of me. I'll get you one right away!" I stood and left the room to get him a cold beer, all the while cursing myself. Of course he wanted a beer; he was trying very hard to show me -- and himself -- that he was the man now. Stupid, stupid, stupid!
Evidently it wasn't enough to fuck the house's woman, bring her to her knees and tell her how to dress and behave... he had to act like a stereotypical man too. He had to act like the man he thought any woman wanted.
Out in the kitchen I found him a beer in the fridge and also a glass of wine for myself. I needed a little liquid courage, so I downed it quickly before going back with his beer.
What a sight I would have been, should any of the neighbours happen to look in on me as I hurried through the house, dressed like a mix between a porn-star and a whore with an open beer in hand, eager to please my son and lover.
I needed him. I needed a good, hard fuck. Seeing how easily he took control of me, of the entire situation, how he overcame any of my objections without a word... it was so
hot!
Right now, in my bedroom, he was busy making sure I'd never be known for anything but a slut again, by throwing away any and all decent clothes I might have had... and all I could think of was how much I wanted his big, hard cock, hammered into me.
Plastering the sexiest smile I had on my face -- one that had always worked in the bars when I was looking for a little fun -- I went back into the room, swaying my hips for his benefit, acting sexy. He was sitting on my bed (a good sign!), awaiting me and his beer.
"Here you are... a strong beer for a strong man!" I said in my most flattering voice while sitting down in his lap, my soft ass grinding into something that quickly became rather long and deliciously hard! Mhmm... what could that be?!
I handed him the beer but kept my seat, my intentions made very clear: A scantly-clad woman, almost humping his fat cock through his pants. I turned around in his lap, planting my soft lips against his in a long, loving kiss. Without hesitating he kissed me back, far more demanding than me, and I readily opened my mouth for his probing tongue.
"Mhm..." I sighed, enjoying his warm lips, his curious tongue and the intimate feeling of the kiss. My hands went exploring, feeling his hard chest and toned arms. He was far more buffed than I'd ever realised!
"So strong and masculine," I whispered to him, truly meaning it and knowing that he'd like to hear it, "you're such a
man!
" I could see his self-esteem swell at my admiring compliments... and something else was certainly swelling too!
"Why don't you enjoy your well-earned beer?" I suggested and slid down on the floor, ending on my knees between his spread legs with my face very close to his crotch, "and let me help you... relax?" My greedy fingers were already working on his jeans-button and zipper before I had finished speaking. He smiled his superior smile and took a sip of his beer, while I found what I sought: A very hard cock, more than ready for me.
"Yummy!" I muttered under my breath as it stood proudly into the room while I scooped his jeans and boxers down to his knees. Studying it carefully, I could see little drops of precum ooze out of the little slit. It was clearly looking forward to this as much as I was!
I know how to give blowjobs; Lord knows I've spent enough time on my knees. Yet there was something special about this. Maybe it was because I hadn't initiated sex with my son before (not that he knew at least, though when I dressed up the night before, that might have been my goal...), maybe it was because this was the first time I was going to taste the dick that had given me so much pleasure...
