My Son's Lap
Summary:
I accidentally sit on my son's cock while he's dressed as Santa.
Note 1: This is a
Literotica 2021 Winter Holidays Story Contest
Story.
Note 2: Thanks to
Tex Beethoven
for his editing.
My Son's Lap
"You can't be serious?" I asked on the phone.
"Yeah, he has the flu," Sandra explained.
"But the party starts in two hours," I pointed out.
"I know," Sandra said, knowing how upset I was.
"Okay, I'll need to figure something out," I said.
"If I come up with anything, I'll let you know," Sandra promised, feeling terrible.
"Okay, see you soon," I said, hanging up.
"What's wrong?" Cody, my son, asked.
"The guy playing Santa has the flu," I said.
"I can do it," Cody said.
"You'd do that for me?" I asked.
"Sure, I'll be there anyway," my son said.
"You're a lifesaver," I said, disaster averted almost as quickly as it occurred.
"Anything for you, Mom," he said, as he glanced down at my feet.
I smiled, assuming that like his father, who had passed away this summer of cancer, had also been a nylon guy... perhaps Cody too was a nylon foot guy... perhaps even a nylon toe guy... like his father. I was currently wearing a robe, but with black thigh high stockings on underneath, I had always, always hated pantyhose... they were just so inconvenient... to go the washroom, for comfortable fucking... back when I got laid.
Truth be told, every Christmas since we opened our business twenty-eight years ago, Jake had been our Santa, he would give presents to all the kids of staff employees and often take photos with them and families.
Also, every year since we opened our business... Jake fucked me while wearing his Santa suit, since for some reason a Santa Suit turned me on. I'd even ridden his cock slyly while we were in a room full of people, by going commando to the party.
God, I missed him! At Christmas it was even worse. Not only did I miss him as a husband, as a business partner and a caring man... I also missed his cock. Toys were fine... they actually gave some decent orgasms, but nothing came close to a hard cock slamming in my pussy. Also, unlike many women, I loved sucking cock... I loved cum. Not having received any cum in half a year hadn't really fazed me, but as I thought about how every year I got a good fucking and often finished with swallowing his load... 90% of his loads had ended up going down my throat... like I said... I loved cum.
Truth be told, I'd swallowed at least a load a day throughout our entire relationship.
I wiggled my toes, wanting to see his reaction, which was one of almost completely staring, "Now I have to finish getting ready."
"Okay," Cody said. "Is the Santa suit here or at the office?"
"The office," I answered.
"Okay," he said, still snatching quick glances at my legs and feet.
"I'll be ready to go in fifteen," I said.
"I'll go warm up the car," he said. "Don't want to get your legs all chilled."
"Such a gentleman," I smiled, happy to have such a caring young man to look after me.
"I
am
the man of the house now," he said, the thing that was said to him the most at the funeral and pretty much ever since. He had an older sister, Valerie, but she was away at college and wouldn't be home until Christmas Eve.
"Yes, you are," I agreed, as I went to him and gave him a big hug. I was surprised as I embraced my son to feel his penis, his hard penis, against my leg... and it flinched.
I was surprised as I remained in the hug for a few seconds and felt a second flinch before I let go and said, "I'll be ready soon."
"Okay," he said, as I walked away... a little rattled at feeling my son's hard penis... even if it was only against my leg.
I finished doing my make-up... I slipped into my four-inch open-toe heels... always showcasing my toes to tease my husband when he was alive... I actually didn't own any closed toe shoes... and in a moment of impulse... one that had no source in rational thought... I slipped out of my panties... deciding to go commando like I had for the past ten plus Christmas parties.
My son, gentleman that he is, took my arm and led me to the car, the sidewalk slightly icy after a snowfall, opened the door and made sure I got in safely... and it was only as I sat down when I realized I was giving him a brief reveal that I was wearing thigh high stockings and not pantyhose, which I assumed he'd think I was wearing.
I realized this as he stared down at me, seemingly a little paralyzed, and looking directly at my raised leg.
I smiled, "You're just like your Dad."
"W-w-what?" Cody stammered, as I allowed him to take a good look at the top of my lace top stocking... for some reason enjoying the attention... even if it was from my son.
"You love nylons, don't you?" I asked, still not pushing my dress down to hide my sexy sheer stocking.
"What?" he repeated, breaking his stare from my nylon top to look up at me.
"Your Dad loved nylons," I explained. "It's why I've worn them very day for over twenty years."
"Oh," he said, clearly distracted by my sexy nylon choice.
Giving him way more information than necessary, I added, "But I hate pantyhose. So I only wear stockings with a garter-belt or thigh high stockings."
"Oh," he repeated, my very smart son said, still distracted by my leg. For a guy who had a 4.0 GPA, was also a receiver on the football team, a wrestler on the wrestling team and until recently was dating a college cheerleader... although that ended a couple of weeks ago.
"We'd better get going," I said. "I can't be late."
"Yeah, yeah, right," he nodded, shaking his head a little, seeming to take one more longing look at my nylon-clad leg before he closed the door.
He walked around and started driving. I asked, "So I don't want to ask questions you don't feel comfortable answering, but I do think it's important you know how much like your Dad you are."
"I am?"
"You look like him, you act like him, and you seem to have the same fetish."
"That's your fault."
"My fault?"
"Yeah, I've seen you wearing them every day."
It was my turn to say, "Oh."
"The worst part is almost no one wears them anymore," he said. "No girls my age, and not even many teachers, except for Mrs. Walker."
"Yeah, they're no longer considered in style," I said. "But some younger celebrities like Taylor Swift, Selena Gomez, and Ariana Grande are wearing them." I'd noticed Ariana wearing black pantyhose throughout the entire blind auditions of the Voice.
"Yeah, it's like trying to find a needle in a haystack," he said.
I was about to make a joke about it being like finding a unicorn, when he continued, "It's one of the reasons I broke up with Amber."
"Really?" I asked, Amber a very pretty girl, although a bit of a diva.
"Yeah, she called my fetish weird and refused to wear them," he said.
"I found it weird at first," I said. "But once I started wearing them, I felt sexier in them."
'I've always found them super sexy," he said, which meant he was inadvertently calling my attire sexy.
"That's what your Dad thought too," I said.
"So Dad really liked them too?"
"Like isn't a strong enough word," I said. "He loved everything about them. The silky sheer feel. They way they looked on my legs. The way they showcased my toes."
"He especially liked your toes in nylons too?" he said, this surprising him even more.
"Yeah, truth be told, that was what he liked the best," I said.
"Wow," Cody said.
"Yeah, who would have thought that was hereditary," I shrugged.
"Huh," he said, processing this information.
We arrived at our office building, where we were on the seventh floor. I went to open my door, when he said, "Wait."
"Oh, I do like a man who knows when to take charge," I smiled, impressed by his strong demeanour, even as I realized I might have just given him an accidental hint that I was a natural submissive who'd obey almost any order his Dad had given give me in the past.
"Crawl under the table and suck my cock," he'd ordered at a five-star restaurant on our fifth date; he'd also told me to masturbate and come in a semi-crowded theatre at whatever Fast and Furious movie we were attending; to walk down the beach with a massive load of cum all over my face during our honeymoon in Mexico; "sit on my cock and act normal," he'd ordered the first time he fucked me while dressed as Santa... God, I missed him... his dominant persona... his ability to turn me into a cock-craving slut....
"Really?" he asked, as he opened his door.
"Yes, I mean a man who knows what it means to be a man," I said, realizing that didn't really cover my original assertion at all.
"Well, as I've been told almost every day for the last six months, I'm the man of the house," he said, closing his door and walking around.
"Fuck," I said to myself as I felt my pussy tingling... why the fuck was my pussy tingling?
He opened the door for me, extended his hand and said, "My lady."
"So smooth," I smiled. "I'm surprised you're ever single."
"Still looking for the right woman," he said, gently pulling me up.
"One who wears nylons," I added.
"Exactly," he nodded, offering his arm, which I took... my son acting so much like his father. "Think there will be any here tonight?"
"Actually, there will likely be a few," I said, as he headed into the building. "Although most are likely twice your age."
"I do like older women," he said.
"You do, do you?" I asked, as we were about to enter the building.
"They have more experience," he explained.
"That they do," I agreed, thinking the things I could show him if he wasn't my son.
"And they're more likely to wear nylons," he added, as we went through security.
I said Merry Christmas to Jimmy the security guard, and we headed to the elevator looking more like a couple, albeit a couple with a bit of an age gap... my son was eighteen, and I was forty-four.
"So what else do you like besides nylons and older women?" I asked.
"I'm not sure I should be telling my mother such things," he said, as he pressed the elevator button.
"We're both adults; tell me one thing, at least," I wheedled.
"You sure?"
"Yeah, tell your Momma a secret," I smiled.
"I like to be in control."
"In control?" I asked, even as I processed the obvious meaning behind this.
"Yeah, I like submissive older women."
"And you've
been
with a submissive older woman?" I asked teasingly, thinking he hadn't.
"Three," he said surprisingly, as the elevator door opened.
"Really?" I asked, curious and intrigued... again, he seemed to be just like his father.
"Two of them you know," he added, as we entered the elevator.
"Do tell," I said in a fun voice, my curiosity quadrupled from that revelation.
"I don't make a woman into my pet and tell," he refused reasonably but frustratingly.
"Your