. 01

As Andrew waited on the sofa, he remembered something his father had told him. Andrew was going on his first real date and was leaving to pick up the girl. His dad had said, "She may keep you waiting. Women are like that. Just remember son: a good woman is worth waiting for."

Well, his father was right. She'd kept him waiting almost twenty minutes before, breathless, she appeared. And, Andrew remembered, she hadn't been worth the wait.

Now, he was waiting on his mother and she was worth it. Yeh, buddy, was she!

At the Boom-Boom Room, Marilyn had paid for her new clothes with the gift card Kris Kringle had left her. They had lunch at a small dark pizzeria. While he munched on pizza and his mom ate her salad, she played footsies with him. Then they drove home.

Andrew was ready for more sex. His mother forestalled him, however. She had some errands to run, she told him. She had to pick up Jake, too. He could clean up the mess from Christmas morning. She'd pick up something for supper. Chinese or sandwiches from a shop.

And she was gone.

How, he wondered, could she appear so calm? How could she be thinking about food, for God's sake? Not two hours ago, she had been demanding more of his cock. Now, all that fucking might never have happened. Andrew was ready to climb the walls, he was so randy.

Three hours later, his little brother burst into the house, full of the news from his snowball fights. His mother appeared behind her younger son, carrying several bags.

"Supper in ten minutes, boys!" she called.

While they ate, Andrew tolerantly listened to Jake. He was still bubbling over with enthusiasm about the day's adventures. The eighteen year old tried not to fidget. He also tried not to stare at his mother. At the lips that felt so good around her cock. At the line of her throat that dropped down the neckline of her sweater to her round and firm breasts. When their eyes met, hers held no secret messages for him. When his foot found hers, she pulled away.

It was as if she were two different women. No, three. She was his mom. She was his lover. And in the boutique, she had been his slut. Were all women this complicated, he wondered? His experience with girls his own age said they weren't. Girls either sucked cock or didn't. They either put out or didn't. There was no middle ground.

Supper done, she told Jake to clean the table. The empty food containers could be rinsed out and go into the trash. The silver ware and plates needed to be rinsed, also, and placed in the dishwasher. The table, wiped down.

"And, honey," Marilyn said, addressing her older son, "there are some packages in the SUV. Could you bring them in please? You can put them on my bed upstairs. Thanks."

He found more shopping bags than from just the boutique. That piqued his curiosity. He wondered what was in the other bags. They didn't have store names. They were stapled shut, so there was no way he could peek inside. They felt like more clothes, though. His interest in the contents waned; he wasn't interested right now in clothes. He wanted what was inside those garments.

He headed back downstairs.

Jake and his mom were watching Wheel of Fortune. Jake got the answer almost all the time. He was good with words.

"What are you boys going to do when I start back to work?"

Marilyn's holiday was over. She was due back at the office on the morrow. Andrew and Jake didn't go back to school until after New Year's. Another full week.

"Just lay around the house, I guess. Unless you've got something you need done."

Marilyn smiled. A few days ago, Andrew would have never made that offer.

"The Tale-Tell Heart!" shouted Jake. "That's too easy."

Andrew looked at the screen. The only letters shown in the puzzle were the Ts. The contestant bought an E and damned if the scamp wasn't right.

"I don't think there's much to be done around here. Maybe make sure there's no ice left in the bird bath and clean it out. Put fresh feed in the feeder."

"You got it, mom."

"I called May Quinlan. She said she can swing by and pick me up in the morning. That would leave you the SUV. Maybe you'd like to take your brother out for his first bike ride."

"What do you say, bro?"

Jake looked away from the TV. "Huh?"

"Mom said she can get a ride to work. Wanna take a trip out to the park and try out the bike?"

Jake jumped up He whooped. "Can we? Really? Aw, man that'd be great! D'you mean it?"

"If Andrew's willing."

Andrew nodded. "We can do it. Early, though, before the place get's too crowded."

"Oh, yeah. Hey can I call Toodie to let him know?"

"Sure," Marilyn said, pleased with his enthusiasm.

Jake headed for his room, shouting back over his shoulder as he took the stair two at a time, "He'll be so-o-o jealous."

"Don't you want to solve this puzzle?" Marilyn called, but he was already out of sight.

She turned to Andrew. "If you get an early start, he'll have to be in bad early, too."

Andrew's eyes lit up. "Yeah. That's right."

Later, expectantly, he had taken a long shower to make sure he was clean. Really clean. Heck, he'd never been cleaner. When he got out of the shower, he found on his bed a package with a note from his mother.

"Here's a belated Xmas present."

He tore open the package. Inside were maroon satin pajamas. There was a matching robe and house slippers. Andrew dressed. He'd never worn satin before and was amazed how it felt against his skin. Slick. They glided barely touching him as he pulled on the pajamas. He felt the slight drag over the hairs on his legs and feet. He belted the robe around his lean body.

Andrew had never really considered that clothes can make the man. Oh, he knew that he looked good on the few occasions when he wore a suit and once for a wedding he'd had to rent a tuxedo. At the time, looking at himself in a mirror, he'd felt like James Bond. In the satin pajamas, if he had a pipe, he'd be Hugh Hefner.

*

So now, Andrew waited. He tried not to stare at the staircase down which his mother would appear. He wanted to concentrate on the low fire that glowed red in the fireplace place. Despite that effort, his eyes were often drawn to the top of the stairs only to find no one there. He looked at the clock. Andrew wanted to groan in frustration. His cock wanted to explode in anticipation. Patience, his mind screamed.

When he looked back at the stairs, his mother was there. He got to his feet, wondering how long she'd been watching him.

Marilyn smiled at her son and took a couple of slow steps down towards him. She paused before resuming her descent. When she reached the floor, she stopped again. She rested her hand on the newel, her head cocked slightly to one side as she regarded him.

Andrew realized he was staring at her mother. That realization didn't stop him from doing it, however. He'd never seen her so beautiful. Her hair was carefully brushed to a luster. Her make up, though lightly applied, accented her shining eyes and her full, welcoming lips.

The gown he had picked out for her touched her body only lightly, caressing her womanly shape from her large breasts to her flared hips before cascading to the floor. She wore a sheer white wrap over her negligee. His mind called it a peignoir, but the teen had no idea if that was correct or not.

Marilyn didn't move. Andrew got the idea she was waiting for him. He moved quickly to stand in front of her. Her smile turned into a grin. It had been years since she had seen that look on a man's face. Marilyn rather enjoyed it.

Andrew took his mother in his arms. He pulled gently and she flowed forward. Her soft curves met his lean hardness. As they kissed, his hand touched her hair.

"I love you, mom."

She simply nodded. His feelings were obvious, from the way his face was swept with emotion, from the way his voice trembled, from the way his hand shook, and yes, even from the hardness of his cock.

"All my love," she whispered, "as a mother and as a woman is yours."

She ran her hands over his shoulders. Her fingers luxuriated over the feel of the satin and the muscles beneath the fabric.

He released his mom. He took her hand. He led her upstairs to her bedroom. No candles tonight, no red cloth over the bedside lamp. The only light came from the windows and Marilyn had thrown open the curtains so moonlight washed the room in silver. The mirror on her dressing table, the mirror on the back of the bedroom door captured the iridescence and every corner of the room was lit in the soft glow.

Once behind the locked door, he kissed her again. When her tongue touched his lips, he opened them and playfully teased the tip. He cupped her buttocks in his strong grip and pulled her body to his, mashing their hips together. Satin slid over satin and lace.

Her hands pressed his head down to her. The kiss became more desperate. Marilyn opened herself fully to her son's tongue and sucked hungrily on it. She moaned. She felt his need for her and fed it with her own. Like stoking a fiery blaze with burning logs till the flames danced higher and hotter, consuming, growing, spreading.

Her hands went from his head to his hips. Marilyn rotated her body against her son's. He gasped. Muttered a curse under his breath. Even before she looked and saw the wetness, she knew what had happened.

Andrew wanted to cry.

"It's all right, my love. There's more. I know there's more. What happened is a sign of your love for me."

She led him to the side of her, no, their bed. She undid the sash of his robe and let the garment fall from his shoulders. Her hands shaking now like his, unbuttoned the pajama jacket and touched his flanks, his belly, his chest. It was so broad and she loved the hair that sprouted across it. While she kissed his nipples, she touched his cock through the satin and felt the cooling dampness that was a sign of his excitement. Despite his release, his cock was still strong, bending upward slightly in its strength and desire.

She undid the tie at his waist, slipped the waist band over his tumescence and let the trousers fall. She went to her knees before her son. She lifted a foot and he raised it so his mother could remove the slipper and the pants. She did the same with his other foot.

Naked for her, Andrew put his hands under his mother's arms and gently lifted. Marilyn didn't rise. Instead, she stayed on her knees, gazing at his cock. Studied the plum-like head that was so smooth just as the rest of his cock was rough. Studied its veins, its ridges, the long scar that ran along the underside from his circumcision.

She blew warm air over his cock.

Andrew's body screamed for her hand, her lips. Marilyn offered him neither, just the caress of her breath as she enjoyed the sight of his cock. She did, however, lift her hands to his belly, felt his six pack, tickled there before rising to his pecs. She tweaked his nipples ever so slightly. Then she teased his navel with the long painted nail of her pinkie. Went back to his chest. Grasped one nipple oh so softly with her nails and rotated it gently. Blew more warmth on his pulsating cock.

He watched her. Finally she touched his cock. But not with her hands. Not with her lips. Marilyn barely grazed the head of his cock with a cheek, leaving a long smear of clear pre-cum to trail across her soft skin. Smiling, she looked up at her son so he could see how he had marked her.

He could also see the deep valley between his mother's boobs. Her nipples pressed against the lace of her negligee. They were hard and dark. Was there ever a more erotic sight? Here was a beautiful woman - his mom! - who loved him and whom he loved, in a sexy nightie that clearly showed her excitation, on her knees, ready to worship his cock.

He wanted to reach down to touch her, yet he didn't. He realized that this was his mother's game for now. Her rules. She would let him know when she was ready for him

Marilyn pursed her lips. She breathed cooler air against his testicles where they pulled tightly against the base of his shaft.

She put one hand on his ass, keeping one free to play with his nipples. Her lower hand pulled his hips forward as if she were going to finally suck him. She didn't suck him. She simply pulled his cock towards her face then let him go back. She did this repeatedly. He fucked the air in front of her. His cock approached her lips so closely he could feel the heat coming from her face.

"Umm, so hard," whispered Marilyn, glancing at her son's face. He was watching her every move, his eyes becoming more desperate.

"So hard for his lover." Pause to breathe on his cock. Tease his nipple "So hard for his mother." Again, breathe. "So fucking hard and ready to explode inside me." Still fucking the air when they both wanted his hot hard flesh to spear the damp furnace she harbored for her son.

His imagination was filled with images of his mother. As she spread herself above him and rode him cowgirl style in the very room. Maybe even in the SUV with the rear seat folded down, like his dad had told him about scoring in the family station wagon at drive-in movies. Or they spooned together and he drove his cock from behind and they could watch themselves in the mirror as they fucked. Or they lazed in front of the fire on the thick rug and he pressed his face to her pussy and she sucked his cock.

"It's what I want, darling. I want you feeding me your cum." Breath. "Over and over. Never ending." Breath. Pull his nipple to the edge of pain and release it. Then gently rub it so even that hint of pain was erased by the ensuing pleasure. "My hungry mouth." Breath. "My yearning cunt." Breath. "Even my ass, if that's what you want. Every inch of you." Breath. "In every hole.

"I know, darling. I know how you want me. How I want you.. We will have each other and pleasure undreamed of as you make love to your mother, as I make love to my son, as you fuck your mother, as I fuck my son, as we - "

"Shit!" Andrew gasped. The jism erupted from his cock, a thick geyser of cum that struck his mother chin and cheek until, in her surprise, Marilyn could get her mouth in position to take the rest of his cum in her mouth.

And except for that brief contact with her cheek, his cock was never touched.

Gracefully, Marilyn rose. She reached behind her to her bureau and got a tissue.. She wiped her face. She thought to herself that, sometimes the mind fucks were the best. Yes, indeed-y. The absolute best

"Later," she promised, "I'll take all of you and waste nothing."

"I don't know, mom. I've cum twice already." Andrew's face made plain his doubts.

"Trust me. You're more of a man than you ever imagined." she kissed him on his cheek. Then his lips.

"I love this gown, darling," his mother said, stepping away from him. She turned, letting him see her from all angles.

"I like the pajamas. They feel good on me. But I don't know about the color. Maroon?"

Marilyn picked up her son's new pjs, incidentally but purposefully giving him another fine view of her tits. She got a hangar from her walk-in closet and neatly hung them. "Burgundy. A very masculine color. It's almost the same shade the head of your cock gets before you orgasm. You can wear them for special occasions."

"Yeah."

She kissed her son again and this time he knew she wanted to be touched. As his lips twisted on hers, his hand caressed her tit.

"Turn down the bed, please, darling."

Andrew released his mom. He pulled down the duvet, a blanket, and the top sheet. He felt the satin between his fingers. Andrew smiled. His mother was going all out. Satin pajamas for him, satin sheets for the bed. A new world of luxury was opening up for him.

He turned back to his mother. He was glad to see that his hands were quite steady as he undid the single pearl button of the peignoir. He slipped the sheer garment off her smooth shoulders and draped it carefully over the bench at her dressing table.

It was time, Andrew decided, for another kiss. A deep, wet kiss that he put a lot of effort into and, had he known, made Marilyn's toes curl and her pussy get even wetter. Her son was certainly a quick learner, although he also had an innate talent, an instinct, for pleasing her. He didn't even hold her tightly for this kiss, but applied gentle pressure on her forearms to position her so that her nipples barely touched his chest. And he shifted so they rubbed gently against him, teasing her the perfect amount to elicit a moan.

He smiled to himself. Two could play the teasing game.

Andrew pulled her head down to his chest. He nibbled at the lobe of his mother's ear.

He whispered, "Do you feel it?"

Marilyn knew exactly what he meant. His cock slipped and slid over her groin, prodded insistently at her. She nodded her head.

"It wants you. It wants to return to where it came from." He sensed another nod. He went on, "Back where it belongs. You want that too."

A whisper sound of agreement came from her.

He licked the curve of Marilyn's ear. Sucked at the fleshly lobe and bit gently. Trailed his lips down the side of her neck, leaving kisses the entire journey. Reached her shoulder. His chin nudged at the strap of the nightgown he'd picked out for his mother. He kissed the flesh that seemed to glow with desire. He kissed and sucked, leaving a mark that they both would be able to see.

He passed his hands over the sweep of her upper body and that easily she was as naked as her son. Andrew stepped backwards, taking his mother with him till she was clear of her garment.

Now he pulled her to him so that her softness met his lean, masculine frame. She shuddered, letting him feel her desire.

To the bed he took Marilyn. He guided her to the center and joined her. He lay on his side, his head raised so he could look down on her. Marilyn kept her eyes open as he descended for another kiss. She let his tongue feel hers and let him suck on it while his hand caressed her belly. Higher or lower she didn't care, as long as his hand touched her.

Lower it went to the gentle slope that would lead him to her cunt. Already he could feel the radiated heat as she spread her thighs. He squeezed, left marks on her skin where his fingers had been. Came back up to the neutral country between breasts and vagina.

He kissed her throat. His lips felt the rapid pulse of her heart as the blood flowed from her pounding heart. When his fingers touched her nipple, he felt the soft tremor of her vocal cords as she moaned. The tremors became a constant reminder that he was pleasing her, exciting her, drawing her closer to her orgasm.

Andrew knew he could continue this way until she came. He also knew that it was better another way. He dropped his head against the plush pillow and pulled on Marilyn's hip so her body turned to his. As she laid on her side, facing him, he went back to kissing her. He used his free hand to lift her leg over his hip. He shifted under her leg. Their lips never parted as he lined her pussy up with the head of his cock. Where the head went, the thick shaft quickly followed. Against his mother's swollen lips. Between them to the moist hot walls of her cunt. Parting them. Filling her. Taking every vacant inch of her womb and filling it, stretching it, making her adjust to his strength. Making his mother's entire body feel his cock as it nestled inside her. Soaked up the heat of her cunt. Soaked up the wetness of it.

The pounding of her blood became a steady and rapid pulse. The tremors of her vocal cords increased until they produced a high pitched and constant hum. All just from the fullness he placed inside her. And when he began to fuck her, his mother's hum became even louder. The pitch changed; as it got louder, the hum deepened. Deepened with each thrust.

The hum became a wordless chant. And she never closed her eyes. Marilyn watched his face as she welcomed his cock into her depths and he plundered them. She saw the strength etched there, the power as her son fucked her. She'd never known such strength, such power. Andrew was effortless in his fucking even as she strained to meet his pummeling thrusts, as she slammed her hips to meet his.