It started simply enough. I entered the kitchen after a day at work to find my senior high school son between her legs, leaning firmly against his girlfriend, pressing her against the counter by the sink. They had not heard me come in, and were locked deeply in a kiss. As I rounded the corner, my son's hips arched lower, tilted up as he pushed his crotch into her mound, pushing upwards, grinding his sex into hers. Her hands were on his ass, pulling him hard against her. I heard a stereo groan from both of them. I stopped dead in my tracks, a hot flash raced through my pussy as I focused on their waists. My son humped her hard for several seconds, grinding his pelvis against hers. "God I want you," he whispered.
"I'm home," I said, startling even myself.
"Mom," Jake almost shrieked. He turned away quickly, the large bulge in his pants evident as he turned quickly away. "You're early," he continued, moving toward the end of the counter, tugging his girl by the elbow to follow him.
"Apparently," I laughed.
"Mom, it's not what you think," Jake glared.
"It's not," I asked quizzically. "Kids, I understand making out and sex," I continued trying to smooth the discussion. "You're over 18. Do you," I finished, turning to face them. I tried to look stern, hiding my internal feelings. I glanced to Jake, his bulge still visible.
"Mom," he groaned. "We gotta jet," he followed.
"Dinner in an hour," I said, raising my voice so he would hear as they headed out the door. I reached for the counter top. My knees felt like rubber. My cunt throbbed. I needed fucked. Glancing at the clock, I headed upstairs to change clothes.
The house was so quiet. My mind continued to race, thoughts of Jake continued to fill my mind. Was he a virgin? How many girls had he had sex with? Was he doing safe sex? Did he know how to have sex? Please a woman? Woman, hell I chuckled to myself. Had I gotten so cynical? God, I could not remember what I knew at his age. When did his dad and I start our sexual relationship? Seniors in high school. Yep, now I remembered. Our first time was not unlike what I had observed minutes ago with Jake.
Opportunity, lust, hormones, all combined to make our sex quick, unfulfilling, and painful. We did try again though, and it got better with the years. I sat contemplating my life, our lives. We loved each other! We were faithful, honest, and still sexually active. Even at my age, 36, I still had strong sexual desires. And Kevin, he still lusted for me. I had kept my body in shape, I worked out religiously. Actually, my body was as toned now as it ever was. Almost naked, I stepped in front of the mirror on the closet door. I look pretty damn good I thought to myself. My hands caressed down my body, starting over my tits, pinching my hard nipples, sliding down my torso, over my mound. I allowed my fingertips to slide softly over my mound, over the hump to feel my lips, puffy lips hidden by my panties. It felt so good. I snaked a finger between my lips, feeling my clit. I've got time my brain screamed. I moved quickly to the bed, stretching out on my back, slipping my panties down, spreading my legs wide. I pushed a hand between my legs, dipping my fingers into my wet slit. Within seconds, I was furiously mashing my clit against my body, pushing the limits of my body's senses, needing an orgasm, a release.
My mind flooded my senses with Kevin, kneeling between my legs, his lips wrapped around my clit, sucking me, biting my flesh, his fingers dipping into my dripping cunt. "Yes," I growled. "Suck me baby," I whispered. My brain switched a vision of Kevin for a vision of Jake instantly. "No," I grunted, feeling my orgasm approaching. My fingers moved faster over my hard clit. "No," I repeated, moving quickly to my orgasm. It was Jake's face between my legs, his tongue, his lips, his fingers flooded my mind. My body exploded into a serious orgasm. I humped my fingers hard, grinding my clit against my slick flesh for a second orgasm. "Yes baby," I whispered softly, growling deep in my body. I relaxed for several minutes, my mind turning over my thoughts again and again. What kind of sick mother was I? How could I even imagine Jake having sex with me? Shaking my head to clear the thoughts, I jumped up, dressed, and headed down stairs.
It's funny how an obsession clouds the mind. Over the next days, weeks, and months, I watched Jake carefully. I purposefully made chances for my confrontations of him, checking his shorts for stains, checking his sheets, observing his hours, his dates, his phone calls when possible. I grew to know when he had a sexual release, or I believed he had sex. His manner, his temperament, his mood all changed. But for a super high school senior stud, he seemed to have very little actual sex, but more red palm play in his room. I even found myself looking through his clothes to find cum stained boxers. I would inhale his musky odor in his dirty clothes.
I grew jealous of his girlfriends. I watched as they played, touching, caressing softly, anything that indicated more intimate contact could be expected. I encouraged him to get to the gym, work out, spend adequate time in his studies, actually ready him self for the rigorous requirements of college life. Then, I became concerned about the coed college life with a young man that was a real physical specimen. I was "Damned if I did, damned if I didn't" encourage him.
I often imagined I was his girlfriend, noting how he touched them, how his hands would massage their neck, back, legs, and even chest when I would sneak a peek to discreetly catch them in some sort of torrid passion. I placed his hands on my body at every opportunity. I hugged him, pressed my body against him with great caution. My nipples would grow hard, my cunt would flood at the thought of him, his hands, his cock. And with the changes of weather, fewer clothes were worn, increasing my desires for this hot, young piece of meat. I imagined the size of his cock. Man sized on a young man. Stamina, I bet he could fuck like a bull, hammer my hungry pussy, and come back for more before my orgasm had even diminished. My son was the best fuck I could ever imagine. And God did I masturbate. I flooded more panties than ever. I was always on the prowl. I was obsessed, I needed his cock.
Kevin never even questioned my increased need for cock. I grew very aggressive, jumping him at least 2-3 times a week. I grew randy, needing hard, fast, uncomplicated sex, pounding my sex to submission. I needed his cum in my mouth, on my tits, sprayed over my face, in my cunt, shoved deep in my ass. I needed cum. I kept Kevin drained now. He loved it, calling me his sex slave. I did his bidding, all the while switching Jake for my husband in my mind.
I grew more obsessed. I needed Jake's cock, his thrusts, his penetrations, his cum in my mouth, my cunt, my ass. How could I tell him? How could I seduce my own son? I needed a plan, but none came to mind. The school year passed quickly, Jake graduated the last weekend of May. Half the summer flew by, and Jake was getting ready to move to campus. I grew sick inside. The love of my life, my son was leaving me. And taking his cock with him. I was growing desperate. I had to have him before he left. Somehow!
And luck fell my way. Just after July 4th, Kevin had a large contract arise out of state, and would require him to spend the next 8-weeks at minimum 1500 miles away. While all was addressed, he felt bad that he would not be available for the weeks before Jake had to leave. Hugs, tears, and tender moments were spent prior to Kevin leaving. Now it was Jake and myself. I would act quickly to make him the man of the house. Just thinking about him floods my pussy even to this day.
Kevin left early Friday morning, heading out by car to the new client. During the day, I ran errands, got groceries, had a facial, and readied myself for the planned seduction later this evening. Arriving home, I started Jake's favorite light dinner, dressed in a very short floppy, flowing skirt, tub top, and began the dinner. Jake arrived from a day out with his best friend Steve. Jake invited him to stay for dinner, letting me know Steve had plans for right after dinner. I agreed, no need to do something out of the norm. The way Steve reacted to me, he flirted from the get go. Compliments flowed, he busied himself setting the table, standing close behind me to watch me stir, poured a glass of good white wine, made conversation as Jake sat at the table and watched. He grinned numerous times as Steve made comments, even calling me a MILF indirectly. Jake waved his hands frantically. "Steve, she knows that acronym," Jake laughed as he turned bright red.
"Jesus Ms. G, I'm sorry," Steve apologized.
We had a great dinner. I even teased the boys about the change in their routines once college began. I addressed they would make their own decisions, and live with their own consequences of those decisions. I commented about how hot the coeds would be, experiencing life, free from mom and dad as well. I cautioned them, even shaking my finger at the boys in a mock stern moment. "Keep your pants zipped," I instructed. I excused myself, headed into the kitchen to grab some cake and ice cream. Standing at the counter, I felt a body saddle up against my backside, a hard cock pressing softly against my ass. Glancing quickly over my shoulder, I found Steve, looking, hesitating, not quite sure what was going to happen next.
"Steven, are you thinking about me," I inquired, teasing him verbally. "Don't do this Steve," I said sternly. "I'm flattered. Honestly, but I don't think so sweetie," I continued. I stepped away, moving quickly around him to enter the dining room. A minute passed, Steve returned.