The Diplomat's Wife

(Part 1 of 3)

It was a Monday morning and I like to take care of the shopping early in the week. My husband doesn't like me to go out unescorted when he is out on assignment and it isn't always convenient to find a chaperone. That duty used to fall on my daughter but she got married in the spring and moved to Pennsylvania with her new husband.

Fortunately, her brother graduated shortly thereafter and moved back home. He won a teaching assistantship at a college near Arlington so he planned to live with us for his two years of graduate school. He didn't seem to mind escorting his mother but I tried not to bother him too much about it. If I could get all my shopping done on Monday then I don't have to ask him again for the week.

Once Donnie leaves home for good I guess my husband will have to hire someone. I try not to spend all his money but he can afford it. He has a very important job in the foreign service. His isn't a household name but you would recognize it if you studied political science or even history. I studied political science. That's how we met. He spoke at my college graduation and as the salutatorian I got to meet him. He made quite an impression on me and I must have impressed him too because a year later we were planning our wedding.

It's more fun shopping with a friend than an employee though and I was looking forward to spending the day with Donnie. He is very fun and charming and it was still a novelty to have him around all the time and not just during breaks from school. I also recalled him being very well dressed but when he came out to join me that morning he looked a little worse for wear. His shirt was fine, maybe in need of an ironing. But his slacks were visibly worn and too short for his tall frame.

"Oh, honey," I told him. "Those pants have had it. Is that what you'll be wearing to school?"

"No big deal, Mom." He shrugged nonchalantly. "People don't dress up these days like they used to."

"That's other people. Your father and I do not want you appearing in public dressed like a beatnik. Let's get you some breakfast and then to Conroys for some new slacks and maybe some shoes," I added, eyeing his battered loafers.

Donnie rolled his eyes but he didn't argue. He knows I get my way. And maybe he was secretly looking forward to some new clothes.

*****

I hadn't been to Conroys in a long while and I found the selection and male pants sizes bewildering. Donnie wasn't much help narrowing down the selection, shrugging when I asked him about his measurements or what fabrics and styles he preferred. I ended up throwing a large selection of pants over his arm and sending him into the changing rooms. After what seemed like forever he emerged looking miserable wearing a pair of pants that was clearly too large.

"Oh, it's going to take forever like this." I said. The changing rooms are unisex so I took his arm and guided him back to his room. He put up a little resistance when I pushed in behind him but I shut the door behind me and had a seat on the little bench.

"Let's get this over with," I told him and unbuttoned the oversized slacks. He turned away from me as the pants came down. I noticed that he was wearing athletic trunk-style underwear, the tight fitting polyester kind. He hadn't let me shop for his underwear for years and he did his own laundry so I had no idea what he wore under his pants. The shiny red fabric really hugged his curves and I couldn't help but notice how muscular his hips and legs had gotten.

I selected another pair of pants and held them open for him to step into. I pulled them up and reached around to button them but he pushed my hands away and did it himself. Then he turned around to face me. In the little room, he was standing too close for me to get a good look at the pants but I was able to look past him at the dressing mirror. These were better, but still too big. I started to unbutton his pants but he turned away again and did it himself. I selected another pair and held them open. It was awkward, me trying not to touch his legs with my face or hair.

As I pulled up the pants my eyes rested momentarily on the front of his underwear, reflected in the dressing mirror. His tight underwear left very little to the imagination and I'm afraid my eyes lingered a little too long on the package that was outlined so clearly.

"Wow," I muttered. I meant to only think it, but it slipped out. My eyes darted to his in the mirror and he was looking right at me. He probably saw where I was looking when I said it. How embarrassing for both of us. I pulled the pants up and he let me button them. It was not easy to fasten them and it was especially difficult to zip up the fly without touching him, well, there. I mean, I could feel it through the fabric of the slacks. Was my poor sweetheart becoming aroused involuntarily? Maybe it wasn't such a good idea for me to come in here with him.

He turned to face me. The pants looked like a good fit. Maybe too good. I could see, inches from my face, the vague shape of his, his manhood in the crotch of the pants. I looked up at him and he was looking down at me, an odd look on his face. I waited for him to turn around but he just stood there. I unbuttoned the pants and began to lower them. The outline of his, his penis looked much larger and more defined up close than in the mirror. Or, I thought with horror, maybe it had grown larger.

I lowered the pants to the floor and he stepped out of them. By accident, my cheek grazed the front of his trunks. No doubt about it. He was stiff with arousal. I looked up at him again. He had a hard look in his eyes, like his father does when he wants me to do something but can't or won't tell me what it is. I was afraid I knew what Donnie wanted me to do. And I was even more afraid that maybe I wanted it too.

I took the waistband of his underwear between my fingertips and began pulling it down and away. I could see his penis, long and thick. With shame, I felt my mouth water. When he sprang free from his underwear it slapped me lightly on my mouth and nose. I heard a soft gasp from my son. His penis hovered there just an inch from my lips. I looked up at him. He nodded once, his eyes still hard. Forgive me, but I then opened wide and gingerly took the head of his cock in my mouth and sucked on it softly.

Hoping that maybe this was enough I took my mouth off of it and looked up at him again. There was no reprieve in his eyes. He nodded, his desire clear. He wanted me to go down on him, to blow him, to suck his dick. Not a little bit, but all the way. I remember thinking how wrong it was, for a mother and son to do that. And I remember thinking I could pull up his pants and walk right out of there. But most of all I remember wanting to suck that beautiful cock and to do a good job of it so my son would be proud of me.

I shut my eyes and let that beautiful cock penetrate my mouth, inch by inch. I took it in not quite to my throat. I didn't dare make any gagging noises. I could hear people coming and going in the other dressing rooms. There was only the little door between us and them and it didn't even go all the way to the floor.

I let him slide outward through my lips but I didn't let it slip all the way out. I didn't dare make any slurping noises. The walls were so flimsy that I could feel the person in the next room bumping up next to us. So there was really only about two or three inches of his hard young penis that I bobbed on with my mouth, while my tongue bathed the underside in slow loving circles. I remember thinking how very hard was my son's penis. Was his father's penis this hard the first time I sucked him? That was a very long time ago, on our wedding night, and he wasn't a young man even then.

To be honest, I found the perveristy of the situation very exciting, as was the lewdness of the act I was performing and also the fear of getting caught. Donnie must have been feeling the same because his whole body radiated with sexual energy. He put his hand on my head and I was afraid he would grab me and force his cock deeper into my throat. But he just ran his hand through my hair. He is really very thoughtful. I ran my hands up his legs and fondled his muscular buns. Holding them in my hands I guided him in and out of my mouth, just two or three inches at a time. A little faster, a little faster, and oh so quiet as people came and went around us.

It occurred to me that there was only one way to finish this gracefully. I was going to have to let him come in my mouth and I was going to have to swallow it all, quietly and completely. I'd swallowed before, though not lately. But would a younger, less experienced man produce much more ejaculate than I was accustomed to? Could I swallow it all without audibly gulping or any of it escaping my hungry mouth?

I could feel Donnie getting ready to climax. His fingers twisted in my hair and his penis started to swell. Just as he began to spasm he started coughing loudly. I began swallowing as fast as I could and he thoughtfully covered the noises I was making with his coughs. All the while he held my head by a lock of hair and made soft shallow thrusts of his hips. When he finished coming in my mouth I quietly licked my excess saliva off of his shaft and tucked it back in his underwear.

I sat there dumbly while he put his old pants back on and picked up the last pair he had tried on. "I guess I'll get these then."

*****

Donnie and I continued our shopping as if nothing had happened. Still, I couldn't help looking at him with new eyes. He caught me looking and I caught him looking at me that way too. I wanted to tell him we needed to just stop, to forget what happened and put it out of our minds. But to tell the truth I was enjoying the attention of a handsome young man. Don't get me wrong, I love my husband. He is romantic and treats me very well in bed. But he is quite a bit older and not as passionate as he used to be. And he is the only man I had been with until now; I had no one to compare him too.

Before we went home for the day I treated us to an ice cream cone at the Oldstone Dairy. While I enjoyed my double dip I noticed that Donnie was watching me with open admiration. I told him it was impolite to stare at a girl while she was licking a cone. He blushed and looked away. But then, glancing around to make sure no one was watching, I opened wide and took both scoops in my mouth right down to the edge of the cone. Donnie's eyes lit up as I twisted the cone in my mouth, then slowly withdrew it, my lips and tongue hugging the contours of the ice cream.

That night at dinner Donnie suggested we have some wine.

"Are you thinking that I'll get tipsy and you can have sex with me?" I asked.

"Umm, maybe," he sheepishly replied.

"Listen, baby. Let's just be honest with each other. It's wrong, but I want it too." I sat next to him and put my arm around him, nuzzling his neck. "Why don't we skip dinner and, just this once, and never again, you can spend the night in my bed?"

"Then where will you spend the night?" He asked, satirically.

"In my birthday suit, that's where." I teased, pulling him to his feet and leading him up the stairs to my bed.