Everyone is caught in the fierce embrace of life. And Jessica didn't know whether she should try to escape, or embrace it back. She'd held her conflict inside for too long and when the first crack appeared, it leaked out in a conversation with her new lover.
Jessica sat beside Paul on the bed. They became intimate after an intense two months. He was the trim thirty-year-old she had chosen to be her first lover after her divorce. Jessica at thirty-eight didn't look any older than he did. This 'older woman' excited him, but she wasn't sure if the relationship would go anywhere. So she was almost surprised herself when she said loud what she had been feeling for a long time. Paul was the sounding board off which she could hear her own forbidden words.
"Paul," She asked, "do you have a fantasy you've never told anyone...like I do?"
Paul skipped over his own answer and said, "What is it you hot thing?"
"No, I can't just say it."
The conversation went back and forth with, "Jessica, I wasn't born yesterday and I'm not a prude, whatever your fantasy is, let's play with it."
"It's too embarrassing...and you're going to be too disgusted by it to even want to see me anymore."
"Don't be so dramatic, and you know you're too good a lay for me to let you go, so let's have it."
She slapped his arm and laughed, "Okay...it's Anthony...my son...I have fantasies about him."
Paul smiled with a leer, "Oh so you're a naughty mama are you? Now what kind of fantasies are we talking here, you doing him, him doing you...are there whips and chains involved?"
"I knew I shouldn't tell you anything."
"Oh come on Jess, I'm only playing with you, and it's not such a shocking thing for a mother to have fantasies about a nineteen year old son she's living with...and it's certainly not unusual for any guy to get turned on by a great pair of tits like these." He playfully pinched her nipple and that led to roughhouse play with all the laughing, tickling, and poking, that lovers often engage in. When they were exhausted and holding each other on the bed, Paul whispered, "Tell me what you want me to do momma."
Jessica got excited with the prospect of the 'game' and said, "I want you to touch me...Tony."
Paul fell into his role and said, "Where momma?"
She pointed to her breasts and then between her legs and said, "Here, and here."
He took her tit in his hand and massaged it. He then reached down between her legs and rubbed it. She began breathing hard and she moaned, in a voice he'd never heard. Paul said, "You're some piece of pussy momma."
Jessica became uncomfortable. Even though her son Anthony never called her 'Momma,' it was still becoming too real; she was getting off on it too much. She went cold and said seriously, "That's enough Paul; I don't want to play any more."
He shrugged and said, "Okay momma, your loss." As it turned out, it was Paul's loss. Jessica broke it off with him after that day.
The crack widened during one of Jessica's late night calls to her sister. "Roe? Did I wake you?"
"No hon, the phone did...just kidding babe, you know I don't get to bed until late. How are you; you sound funny."
"Roe, I'm going to go crazy if I don't talk to someone."
"Hey hon, you know I'm always here, even if we're in different parts of the country. Tell your big sister what's happening." Rosemary was thirteen months older, and much like the mother they had both lost before Jessica turned ten.
"Roe, it's someone I can't get out of my mind, and I know it's the wrong thing, and he's much younger than I am and..."
"Okay, so you met a guy; younger is good."
"No Roe, I mean a lot younger."
"We're not talking Mary Kay Letourneau here, are we Jessie?"
"No, of course not, he's...Anthony's age."
"Wow babe, you're all right, doing a guy half your age. By the way how is my handsome nephew?"
"He's fine; Roe, can you stay with me here? I'm trying to tell you something." She became agitated and her sister knew her enough not to get defensive.
"Okay hon, tell me, it's all okay, just tell me."
"Oh God Roe, it's Tony, I just can't stop thinking about him."
It went over Rosemary's head. "What do you mean? Is he okay?"
"Yes Roe, he's okay, I'm the one who's not okay. Roe, I'm in love with him, or in lust with him, or whatever else the hell I'm not supposed to be with him."
"Jessica...with Anthony? Did you...?"
"No Rosemary, of course not, nothing happened, I'm just trying to tell you...it's becoming too much for me to handle."
"Baby, I'm not sure what's going on with you, but maybe it's time Anthony moved out."
"I thought about that...but I don't want him to, I want him near me...I want him...and I want to tear these thoughts from my head..."
"Listen Jessie, maybe that's why you're driving yourself crazy...so you think about it sometimes, it's not a big deal. Don't beat yourself up about thinking about it, it only makes it worse...that doesn't mean you're going to do it...think about taking care of yourself, you'll feel better, and it'll pass. Fighting it just makes it hang around longer. Remember Jason?"
Jason was the guy from high school who moved away just as Jessica started seeing him. Rosemary helped her through it, mainly by convincing her to take care of herself until she was tired of him. 'Taking care of yourself' was of course the sister's phrase for masturbation, and it had worked. Jessica did it day and night until the thought of Jason bored her.
"Maybe you're right Roe, maybe I was too ashamed to think about doing something like that."
When she hung up, Jessica was determined to exorcise her sexual urges for her son. She took her panties down and allowed the thoughts to come. She placed two fingers on the soft lips and began the rotating movement that just came close enough to her clit to stimulate it. "Tony," her mind said, as she increased the tempo. "Tony," as his lips replaces her fingers. "Tony," as his mouth starts sucking on the hood that shields her sensitive trigger. "Tony, Tony, Tony, Tony..." Jessica masturbated three times and finally fell asleep.
Jessica masturbated for weeks and during that time she spoke to her sister to keep her resolve and to keep her raging desires in check. But sometimes, the wet paint sign makes it just to tempting not to touch. Is the paint really wet?
As Jessica's birthday approached, Anthony asked her what she would like. "How about, taking me out for dinner and dancing," she said. "I haven't done that in years honey." Jessica had taught him to be almost as good a dancer as she was, and it had gotten him into bed with more than one girl.
"Sure mom." He winked at her. "But you have to wear the black dress I like." The thought of dressing for him excited her and she knew why he liked that particular dress. That Friday night she was in the bathroom preparing for their 'date' when she heard Tony walk by and called to him, "Honey could you come in here for a second and zip me up please?"
He walked in to an assault on his senses. His mother's back was exposed to her waist and he could see that she wasn't wearing a bra. The room was permeated with a combination of perfume from the bottle and the pussy she had been stimulating. When he touched her he involuntarily began to harden. He asked, "Do you need to put on a bra before I zip you up?"
"I should," she said. But I don't have one that works with this dress, and the elastic in the top should hold me okay."