Part Two - My Beautiful
There's a difference between events in the real world and those of fiction. Simply put, those in fiction can lead on to events without consequence and be dismissed at the turn of a page, but real life is not quite like that.
Following my one drunken evening's series of events, the mobile phone 'pee video', my sexual adultery with my young office friend's boyfriend, and worse, my son witnessing and sharing a masterbation session with me in which I blurted out some very stupid thoughts in the heat of the moment, my life had suddenly become very awkward.
From the following morning I immediately began to regret my sordid escapade.
From a lusty, perverse, alcohol fueled pleasure seeker to a guilt ridden, anxious mother in one sledgehammer like blow, reality check moment.
What had I done and how could I face up to this?
This following day I did not see my son at all, it was as if he was avoiding me for the same reason as I was hoping he would, 'guilt' and 'shame'. I found it difficult to face my husband an daughter without the fear of my knowing what I had done, broadcasting some kind of embarrassing message directly to them. I imagined they somehow knew of my sinful activities.
I afforded little conversation throughout the weekend and managed to avoid social interaction with my family. Without going into too much detail, when eventually I did converse with my son, it was somewhat strained and we would not look each other in the eye as we exchanged basic niceties.
As the week progressed, even my return to work created increased anxiety. Did Jasmine allow any of my office colleagues to view her phone video? Did she know of her boyfriend's brief sexual encounter with me? What if I bumped into him?
Around me, there was a strange calm, it felt like I was underwater whilst normal activity carried on regardless. I was not fully experiencing the reality in which I lived. I had withdrawn and become slightly depressed.
My friend Carla eventually noticed this and after a while she tried to coax me into explaining what was wrong. She still talked of her sexy encounters and how she was 'pleasuring' everything she could lay her hands on. This kind of talk only made me all the more ashamed. We eventually communicated less, she was not wanting her mood to be brought down by me as happens when a depressing person is around.
I was hoping these clouds would pass. I found it increasingly difficult to look at my son, and as for my husband, he had as good as given up on sex with me.
Strangely, nothing had come of the pee video, nor did Carla, Jasmine or her boyfriend after only a few days mention the Party evening again in my company.
But my son and I had truly damaged our relationship and I seen a lot less of him. I still loved him very much and considered him the beautiful son that I would protect and do anything for in the way that all mothers would for their offspring.
I was resigning myself to the fact that this is the reality of a moments lustful stupidity.
At around the three month period I was still feeling down, my sexual abstinence coupled with it's forced deprivation was creating a turmoil in my mind. I started to have dreams of an erotic nature.
They started as shadowy events in the night. Each evening after my husband fell asleep I would lay for hours gazing into the dark and still thinking about what I had done, eventually falling to sleep.
In this sleep I would feel to be drifting in and out of consciousness. Then from the shadows in the corner of the room, a young naked man would walk toward the bed. I was unable to move or make a sound, my husband would be in a deep sleep beside me. This young man would be sporting a beautiful large erection, carved like a muscular work of art. The engorged head would sway back and forth as he slowly approached as he became ever more close, the angry plum on the end of his shaft seamed slightly menacing. The dim light in the room would only highlight his muscular torso, his face being hidden in the shadows. Just as I would open my mouth as if to speak or scream, the cock would explode lashings of thick white spunk over my face and into my mouth. The young man would lean in as if to kiss my cum drenched face . . .
. . . It was at this point I always awoke.
Never did I see who the handsome teen man was in my dream but he became ever more frequent. It became like the pre-guilt fantasy I had, involving the men from the office, when they would be wanking all around me. Only now my fantasy wanker was one very handsome, mysterious teenager.
The daytime may have been bringing guilty depression, but now, the night was bringing feverish fantasy.
The intensity of my dreams increased and it did not matter what time of the month it was. In these dreams, on some occasions he would approach and wipe my mouth or slap my face with his cock or force his swollen helmet between my teeth before blasting me with his jism. On other occasions, he would draw the bedcovers back and direct his spurts onto my pussy.
Some evenings my dream hunk would signal for me to part my legs and ejaculate onto my swollen petals and as he leaned to kiss my sperm covered heaven, I would awake, soaking in sweat and with my flower totally sodden with my own love juice. I would have to delicately but urgently bring myself off, careful not to awake hubby.
The burning lusty dreams went so far, that it was not uncommon that my stranger would appear from the shadows on my husbands side of the bed, carefully approach, then again draw the bedcover back gently, he would then slickly caress his swollen prick and shoot his load on my husbands stomach and flaccid prick. My husband would grown slightly blissfully, unawares that his soft little sausage was awash with white and sticky teen man-cream. As I observed these bizarre events, I would shudder, groan and orgasm in my sleep wishing to sup on the salty cream coated soft cock.
I didn't need to kid myself . . .
. . . The fantasy figure I was encouraging and willing to enter into my dreams was a representation of my son, Donny. I had shared a real orgasm with my son only a couple of months earlier and my mental state and craving body was screaming out to experience more. Much though I denied it in my waking hours, I wanted my legs wrapped around his tight buttocks and his beautiful youthful penis thrusting into me in the night. I wanted to feel my son in my body after near twenty years. Only this time bringing a different pleasure, the pleasure that had created him in the first place.
I had a problem. I had to get my son out of my mind and return to a normal and healthy loving relationship with my husband.
To extinguish the fire of this taboo perversity I had to re-ignite the passion my husband and I once shared. This I was going to do before I was tipped over the edge and packed off to the funny farm.
There was little reason for my husband to have lost interest in me. I had successfully retained my figure, keeping my legs trim and boobies pert for my age. My looks were still fresh, friends had often commented on how young my skin looked, my face had not aged with the worry lines and scrawny wrinkles like some women I knew. If teenage boys found me hot enough to become aroused by, surely my husband should.
The chance to seduce hubby came one evening when my daughter had gone off to a party with her boyfriend James, and my son Donny was at his friends for the evening, neither of my children were due home until around midnight. This free evening would give me a chance to use my womanly virtues coupled with a sexy negligee to spice up my love life and get back on the track to normality.
After the kids had left, I soaked in a hot bath whilst my hubby placed himself in his favourite chair in front of the box for the evening.
I couldn't help but think steamy thoughts and as I lay there soaking in the warm relaxing bath, as I closed my eyes, the mysterious visitor entered my imagination. I could picture him entering the bathroom and unzipping his fly as he stood by the side of the bath viewing my naked body. He reached in and freed his fat cock and I parted my legs dispelling the soapy bubbles to reveal my aching pleasure tunnel.
Then without warning, a jet of warm pee shoots forth from his pee hole and splashes on my floating tits. The little splashes sparkle and pop around my face as he sprays the jet to and fro. I slip a finger into my slit and slowly commence a delicate frigging. The final sprinkles of his pee-pee are shaken on my face and I watch the cock slowly grow in size before my very eyes.
He leans in and I open my mouth, taking the swollen plum between my lips. With a precise rocking motion the cock gently pistons in and out of my wanting mouth building in pace until he grunts and convulses and I choke a little, as a warm explosion of creamy fluid happens in my throat, the excesses filling my mouth and flavouring my taste buds with a bitter sweet saltiness.
As my awareness to where I was returned I could feel myself breathing and whispering 'Donny, baby . . . ohh! Donny make me cum.' Right then I tightened as a massive orgasm gripped my bathing body. It was like an electric shock and every nerve end was alive with ultimate pleasure.
