The next day was utterly calm. Twenty inches of snow covered the country, deadening all sound. But there was a roar of turmoil in Mary Jackson's mind. Everything had become dreamlike. The beautiful snow outside which had transformed the ugly mud had also led to events which she could barely believe had happened.
She remembered with nightmare clarity masturbating her darling Tommy, and the cum burning into her flesh. She remembered drying him and tucking him into bed and kissing him one last time.
More dreamlike was afterwards when she realised his drying cum was on her breasts and face and arm, and how she had scooped it up and licked it hungrily, and then stood in the middle of the hallway masturbating herself outside Tommy's room, whimpering like an animal and having a shattering orgasm which brought her to her knees.
What had gotten into her? My god, Mary, she upbraided herself, Tommy is your son! And she thought again of his firm strong body and his bright liquid eyes and his long hard cock, and again her knees went weak.
Mary heard Tommy moving about, and braced herself. Breakfast was ready. She tried to calm herself, even hummed a little. Tommy came out of his room, dressed in the pajamas she had dressed him in the night before. A flash of memory: how she had reached into his fly and stroked his lengthening cock one more time, and tongue-kissing him quickly before sending him off to sleep. Was I drugged? she thought. Am I so sex-starved I have gone mad? She smiled cheerfully at Tommy, only the slightest tremor in her voice.
"Good morning darling! Did you sleep well?"
"Yes Mom," Tommy said running his fingers through his tusselled hair. His voice was neutral, but he didn't look at his mother.
"Sit down Tommy, I have bacon and eggs for you on this cold and snowy morning."
Tommy sat down and stared fixedly at the tablecloth, suddenly finding an interest in the checkered pattern. Mary quickly served his breakfast, wishing she had fully dressed. But it was Sunday morning, and she always threw on her flimsy gown over her nightie on Sundays. This morning wasn't a special morning, was it? She leant over the table and gave Tommy his food. He lifted his head and his eyes disappeared down Mary's deep cleavage. Flustered, she covered up. Tommy ate his breakfast silently.
Mary watched him. He really was a beautiful boy with broad shoulders and strong hands. Every now and then Tommy glanced up. Agonisingly for him, his mother's gown had fallen open again, and he could easily see her heavy breasts swing each time she moved.
When he had finished he handed his mother the empty plate.
"What? Am I your slave darling?" she chuckled, but her throat caught. Sex slave you mean, said a voice somewhere in the recesses of her soul.
"You know you put away your own dirty dishes. House rules."
Tommy's face turned bright red. His hand disappeared beneath the table as he stood up, holding his plate in one hand, clutching his pajama pants in a bunch with the other. Mary handed him his empty milk glass. "And this." Without thinking Tommy reached for the glass and as he did so his loosened his grip on his pajamas. His long turgid cock sprang out in full view.
The world stopped as Mary stared at his penis swaying slightly. Blood drained from Tommy's face and seemingly went straight to his cock, even as he stood there, rooted to the floor, it swelled and grew hard and straight and waved cheekily at Mary.
Mary was transfixed. The only thing that went through her head was how beautiful it looked, how perfectly formed was her son's cock.
Tommy made a gurgling noise and put the dishes in the sink and stood there, with his back to Mary, desperately trying to adjust himself. After a long silence, Mary said, "I think we need to talk." She had no idea what she was going to say. "Come into the lounge darling," and she padded out to the sofa.
Tommy came in, despair written all over his face. Mary's heart melted. The poor boy is in agony, she realised. She patted the seat next to her, and Tommy sat down, looking at the floor.
"About last night," Mary began gently. Tommy made the gurgling noise again. "It was wonderful," she heard herself say.
Tommy froze. "Look at me darling," said Mary, taking his face in her hands. Her gown fell open again. Tommy could smell her sweet perfume. "I thought you were going to die Tommy. You were frozen and Mommy had to warm you up. Any way possible. And I did that didn't I?" She gave him her friendliest and broadest smile.
Tommy grinned and nodded.
"There, that's my boy. Mommy isn't going to eat you!" A lascivious thought flittered across her mind. "You are well again, and everything is the same as it always was, and I am a very, very happy Mommy. Are you happy, Tommy?"
"Yes Mom, I am."
"Good boy," and she smiled again. Then for no apparent reason, she pulled him towards her and hugged him tightly. Tommy's face was crushed to her breasts, and his arms went around his mother. Once again his cock flew out of his pajamas.
"You ...umm...when you...", Tommy stammered," ...last night...when you...with your hand..."
"I masturbated you, Tommy." Mary tried to sound clinical and in control. "Any mother would have done the same."
There was pause while Tommy weighed this. "When you masturb...mastur...."
"Masturbated you."
"Yes. It was because I was so cold?"
"That's right darling"
"I understand," said Tommy and smiled.
"There, now. That's all cleared up."
"umm...Mom?"
"Yes dear?"
"I liked it a lot," mumbled Tommy.
Mary couldn't help but giggle, "And I'll tell you a secret dear, so did Mommy"
And they both chuckled. Mary was so suddenly overwhelmed by a wave of love for her son that she leant across and kissed him on the lips. Their kiss lingered a little too long, their lips were a little too parted. There was a little too much electricity.
"Well," Mary said somewhat breathlessly, "I have work to do. Off you go now." She patted him on the knee, her wrist just brushing his softening cock.
She walked back to the kitchen, and poured herself a cup of coffee. She heard Tommy moving in the lounge. Outwardly she seemed placid. A family crisis solved. But her heart was strangely empty. Her body remembered too well his kisses, and her nipples tingled, and her cunt throbbed as images of his spurting cum intruded. Mary sighed, oh well, Greg will be home in a few days, and Jenny will be back from college too. Soon the house will be full of laughter and cleaning jobs and bickering, just like normal. But she sighed again and she sipped her coffee.
It was then that she realised that Tommy had not gone to his room. He must still be in the lounge. Frowning she left the table and looked into the room. It was empty. She walked around the furniture thinking perhaps Tommy was lying down or was hiding. "Tommy?" She glanced at the french windows, at the deep snow outside. And there was Tommy, stark naked, standing in his father's over-sized work boots in the middle of the garden. He was smiling at her, and as she approached the doors and opened them. She could hear Tommy giggling.
"Tommy! What on earth are you doing? Get inside immediately. It's freezing out here." She looked around, hoping none of the neighbors were watching. "What's wrong with you?"
Tommy smiled, "I'm trying to get cold again," and laughed.
Mary squealed and laughed too, and ran outside in her night wear. She grabbed him by the hand and pulled him back. Both were chuckling, near hysterically. Twice they fell in the soft snow.
"Oooh! We're both cold now, Mommy!"
"You rascal," laughed Mary, "get inside immediately."
They fell through the doors, slamming them shut against the cold air pouring in. Tommy ran to the sofa and flung himself down full-length on his back. His pajamas lay crumpled on the table. Mary smiled broadly and sat down next to him, looking lovingly at her naughty boy. She stroked his face tenderly. Her hand rested on his chest, gently circling. Her fingers absent-mindedly played with his cold-hard nipples.
"You really must be careful darling. You can catch pneumonia like that you know."
Tommy lay back, watching her. His eyes roving over her bosom. Mary was not brave enough to look down to see what his penis was doing. There was an awkward silence.
"Mom?"
"Yes dear?"
"About last night. There's something I don't understand."
Mary swallowed.
"After you put me to bed last night...."
"Yes..."
"In the hallway...." Tommy sat up, his arms snaking around his mother's waist. Brazenly, a hand slipped inside her gown and cupped his mother's breast. It seemed so natural, and he did it so confidently Mary didn't think to object.
