Seduce Me

Chapter Five: The Transition

I'd never felt so ... what...

After our conversation, and my eruption in the privacy of my room, I'd thought at least everything would settle down for a while.

But then that night, in bed, the "sensations" started again and though worn by the earlier bout, I had another tremendous climax.

This time, I felt thoroughly fucked, with slow, steady insistent strokes in and out of my pussy, until the last rush of frenzy before .... And all the while I had the feeling of a hot throbbing cock in my mouth...to the point that I was actually gulping as my vagina twitched and convulsed and ...I came.

I lay there, exhausted, falling asleep, the most relaxed I'd been in ever so long...and really confused...and had the most disturbing, or erotic, fragmented dreams.

My son was raping me. No, I was sucking on his cock. Then I was in a trance while he took my clothes off. No, he was slowly sliding his dick into my bottom, and I was actually pushing backwards to get him inside me. No, I was opening my legs, beckoning him to come to me, to let him kiss my thighs....No he was ignoring me. No, he was raping me...again...and again...and... No, I was letting him undress me...waiting to feel his hot cock slide up into me...and sliding his shorts down, wanting to suck his young virgin cock, and ...

When I woke up, my panties and nightgown, and the sheets were sopping wet. At first I thought I'd pee'd in my bed but my bladder drove me to the bathroom to show...it was all love juice.

Shaking as I showered, physically completely relaxed, yet mentally anxious, a bit edgy or worried, I wondered if I was going out of my mind. As I got ready for work, I tried to rationalize what was going on. Perhaps everyone went through these "dreams" when they were deprived of sex. Perhaps subliminal messages were transmitted by the body to the brain demanding something not experienced in too long. But the thoughts about my "son!" Where did they come from? Even if he didn't know the secret about his "mother," how could I ever imagine such....intense ...pleasure.

I had to get a grip. I couldn't blame him for what was going on. He was the perfect gentleman, in virtually every way. He did his chores and more. He attended to me with the utmost propriety and courtesy. Well almost, except for the few occasions when he was younger and seemed to be "exploring" the only woman handy (smiling, now at the pun).

But seriously, I really do loved that boy and would do anything for him...

I can't let my "problem" affect our relationship. But he's getting older and things are getting to that really complicated stage, and I just know I'll regret it if I do anything to create even more confusion. I have to be careful what I say. Part of me wants him to find a girl to "do stuff with" and part of me doesn't, at least not yet. To be honest, right or wrong, I want to help him understand everything about women he's curious about...but I can't.

As I headed out the door to work, part of me was relieved to be through the ritual of waking, shower and coffee without waking or running into him. But then ... part of me missed the chance to see him ... get a goodby kiss... before I trundled off.

The day was uneventful (in the sexual sense), as were much of the following weeks. Part of me was relieved, and part of me missed the relief or balm that the "sensations" had provided, even with the confusions.

I was pleased to hear him making arrangements and taking advantage of the advice I'd given, to seek the company of others. And I missed him when he wasn't around.

Almost every other night he was out, but never too late.

Every night, I waited, not to obviously I hoped, for his return and polite kiss on the cheek as he went off to bed.

We still had plenty of time in the evenings and on the weekends to stay connected, so I could keep track of what he was up to and who he was beginning to hang around with, and what he thought about this or that. I learned about the old friends and the new acquaintances. A couple of times he came home rather preoccupied, sometimes quite flushed, once or twice with lipstick on his cheek and neck, and I kept my own counsel.

A few times the "sensations" returned, sometimes quick and passing, sometimes long and intense, and normally only at night when I was in my own bed...

As they became more intermittent, I began to ...look forward to them. Wondering what manifestation would ... almost satisfy me again.

I didn't "try" to bring them on, but recognized their onset, and, depending on circumstances, sometimes let them take me away...to an almost fulfillment. The only real problem was "that afternoon" at work that started with the "touching" and "stroking" and "rubbing" I felt all over, and particularly the nipple "sucking" that almost drove me into delirium, that grew and grew until the evening.

The whole evening was absolute decorum as I fought for control until I could retreat to the safety of my bedroom. I felt "petted" and "fondled" all evening, and could just barely keep my sense of propriety as he went out on another "date," while I waited for his return.

And the few hours he was gone, the pressure seemed a little less provocative, so I didn't do anything to seek self gratification. I thought it had passed, a little disappointed that I hadn't had ... the climax... and was still a little on edge...almost hungry for the "sensation" to finish.

Somehow, I thought, these sensations have something to do with my son. They seem most intense when he's around, or at least in the house, and we're together alone, and most especially, at night. And, it is natural for a woman, and a young man to want ... And maybe it would be wrong, ... for an older woman and a young man... and it wouldn't really be incest.

To Be Continued...