Wonderful Mothers

It was the first time the five of us had been together for some years but eventually, inevitably, the conversation turned to the same subject, as it always had, at this time of the evening.

Sex.

Amongst the buzz of chatter and laughter that little word: 'sex', spoken in a quiet conversation between Mary and Lucy seemed to jump off the sofa where they were whispering and into the middle of the room.

There was a hush as we smiled at one another.

We had shared a lot of personal stuff over the years; secret crushes, shameful lusts, exciting desires, pent up frustrations and disappointments, confessions of dark taboo fantasies, kinks and fetishes about which we had been sworn to secrecy, intimate details of our marital bedroom activities and graphic descriptions of the equipment and performance of our husbands that provoked either pity or envy in one another.

I opened another bottle of wine as Tina broke the ice.

"So ladies. Sex. How have we all been faring since we last met up? How long has it been? It must be over 3 years now."

I looked around. This was nice. To be together again with women I'd known for so long. I hadn't realized how much I'd missed their company.

I had always assumed we were just thrown together because our sons were the same age.

Perhaps that's why I hadn't made much of an effort to stay in touch when my son Josh went off to university three years ago. Sure, I'd bumped into Mary and Anne in town a few times; we'd been for drinks once or twice. We had managed to meet up for a picnic in the park during the town's summer festival each year when our boys were back for the holidays.

But the close friendship that came from daily and weekly contact, the bond of shared experiences, of family crises, decisions, responsibilities, the hopes and worries of motherhood; the thrill of opening another bottle of wine in the garden on a Friday before our husbands got back from work, the impromptu sleepovers arranged so we could stay and drink and talk; you can't plan that. It just has to happen.

And tonight it had.

Lucy piped up: "It's 3 years almost exactly Tina. I know because we came back from France in the middle of August before Jamie went off to Warwick University in the September. And we were just back in time for us to all get together."

"It's exactly 3 years." agreed Anne. "I know because it was Ben's 21st two days ago. And they all got together two days after his birthday three years ago because he was the last one to turn 18 so it was the first time they could all go to the pub and get served a pint of beer legally. Remember? We each drove here to drop the boys off and then we stayed to help you set up the big tent in the garden because they wanted to sleep out that night. Then you opened a bottle of wine and we all sat on your patio."

Which is what had brought us together now, three years later.

Our boys had all graduated from university this summer. The three years of undergraduate student life in cities and campuses around the country were over and they remained the best of friends. They had decided to honour the durability of their friendship and mark the start of a new chapter in their lives as they had always celebrated their rites of passage: by going round the taverns, bars and pubs of the town and getting heroically drunk.

Josh had asked me if Ben, Jamie, Ryan and Tommy could meet up at ours for pre-drinks before heading out. Of course I was delighted. It's always a pleasure to have them over and an honour to be the host.

The following afternoon Lucy phoned me up: nervously introducing herself as if we barely knew one another, I guess because we'd rarely phoned and hadn't talked for so long.

"Angela? Hi, it's Lucy; Jamie's mum, you remember?"

"Of course I remember, bloody hell, don't be silly Lucy, it's so good to hear you. How are you?"

"Oh I'm fine. Great. Listen, I'm bringing Jamie over to yours on Saturday. I wanted to ask if I should bring a bottle or two maybe? Like we used to. We could have a drink while the boys go out. Like last time."

I was genuinely overjoyed:

"I'm so pleased you suggested it Lucy. I had the same idea. That's going to be lovely. I'll make nibbles. Tim's away at the moment, again, so it'll just be me."

"Oh thank goodness. Oh God, sorry, I didn't mean that, how is Tim? It doesn't matter. it's just I wasn't going to bring Gerry. Gosh no. I need a break from husbands. Just us girls, please?"

I laughed and agreed.

I made sure I had up to date phone numbers for the others and promised to phone them myself as it was at my house.

They were equally excited.

It was a warm summer evening as the four mothers and four sons arrived. The women looked great: we'd clearly all made an effort to dress for the occasion. We began to pretend otherwise but Tina dismissed our false modesty:

"Well I know I look fabulous and spent an age choosing this outfit; why shouldn't we look wonderful for an evening with the girls? At least you ladies notice what I'm wearing, unlike men!"

We all laughed in agreement.

Josh butted in:

"I noticed what you were wearing mum, remember I said how sexy you look in your new dress."

He became self conscious, looked around at the other women who were staring at him and blushed:

"I mean you all do. I think you all look absolutely beautiful and stunning."

His friends joined in and began to shower us with compliments and praise.

I took Josh's arm and we led the party into the conservatory before it all became too much:

"Thank you boys, you are perfect gentlemen. Now let's go and have some cocktails."

Josh and I distributed the margaritas we'd made earlier. We all stood around talking to one another's sons, letting them flirt clumsily and making the usual comments about how much they'd grown while they told us what they planned to do with their lives now. We congratulated them on passing their degrees and we listened to their chatter as the alcohol went to their heads.

The boys were dressed in the accoutrements of early manhood; sports jackets, cufflinks and cologne and full of that ignorant worldly wise talk that young men affect to show off their maturity to one another and their mothers: politics, cars, football and the state of the economy. The other mothers and I exchanged knowing smiles; proud of our boys but only pretending to be impressed with the mannish patter for their benefit.

Our sons finished their drinks and headed into town. We waved them goodbye, watched them walk down the street jabbering excitedly in the evening sunshine until they disappeared from view. Then we hugged and went back inside. Tina and Mary helped me wash up the cocktail glasses, open a bottle of wine and fill bowls with olives and nuts while Lucy and Anne chatted in the conservatory. Then we drank wine and talked as the sun went down.

And so here we are.

Drinking wine and talking about sex again.

Tina looked in my direction:

"What about you Angela? How are things with you and Tim?"

So I was to go first. I'd expected it really, given that it was my domestic dramas with my cheating husband Tim that had dominated our girl talk three years ago. I didn't mind. In fact I realised just how much I'd needed to talk openly and honestly with a group of friends who wouldn't judge or condemn.

Angela's Story

I filled everyone's glasses and sat down.

"Things with me and Tim are...well, not a lot different really Tina. Did I tell you he stopped fucking his secretary when I found out about the affair? Yeah, he did. Not straight away though, and I suspect it was only because she dumped him. He says he's been faithful since but I don't know. I still don't trust him. He's away more than ever with work now so whether he has one night stands or he pays for sex when he's away on business I wouldn't know.

What I do know is that when he's at home he certainly doesn't show any interest in fucking me. That's why it's been so nice having Josh here with me for the summer."

I realized what I'd said. I blushed and my friends raised their eyebrows:

"Oh yes. What are you telling us Angela? Have you been a naughty mum?"

I stuttered in denial:

"No! No no no. Oh shit. That came out all wrong. I didn't mean like that. Although..."

Tina smirked at me:

"Oh Angela: 'although' what? Do tell."

I took a deep breath and began to formulate my feelings into words.

"Well; I just mean: Although...it has been nice having a man around the place. And he is a man; Josh. He makes me feel like a woman. He shows me respect and affection, he pays me compliments, he makes me feel attractive and sexy. And I've been making more of an effort because he's around. I had rather let myself go, with his dad not caring how I look. Since Josh came home I've bought sexy dresses and tops, new bras that show off my boobs, sexy underwear, short skirts I even bought some sexy nighties for the evening, just for watching television with Josh or in case he comes into my bedroom to chat at night. Josh is so wonderful, he always notices when I'm wearing something new, even when it's a new bra. And I mean he really notices - he tells me how great I look and he looks at me like, I don't know, not like a son should look at his mother, like he really wants me, you know. I've caught him looking at me when he thinks I don't see him; looking down my top at my tits, up my skirt, everything."

I giggled:

"He's a very naughty young man!"

Tina nudged me:

"You mean you've been giving him an eyeful and pretending you don't know! Dirty girl!"

I shrugged:

"Well. I am a woman, I know how to let a man look at my tits without making it obvious what I'm doing. That's the worst of it. I keep making him look at me. I'm always bending forward so he can look down my top, letting my skirt ride up so my knickers show. I even do it when his dad's there. I can't help myself. It's so funny; the effect I have on him. He goes all hot and bothered. His dick goes hard and he can't stand up, he keeps putting cushions on his lap to hide his massive erection from me. I've even brushed against his cock pretending it's an accident. He has to make an excuse and he runs up to his bedroom to masturbate. I've actually seen him masturbating. I walked in on him and he was lying on his bed with his eyes closed jerking his cock in his hand. God! It was so big! It was ages before he noticed me standing there then when he saw me he got all flustered and kept saying sorry. I wanted to tell him to carry on so I could watch but he was so upset. He masturbates every night in bed and I don't think he realizes how much noise he makes. I can hear him from my bedroom. It's hard not to. And I admit I get turned on. I lie in bed listening to him and I use my vibrator and do myself. We've even finished together - had an orgasm at exactly the same time. That was the first time me and a guy have ever cum together!"

There was a murmur of agreement from my friends.

"Oh my god: once he came before I'd cum and I didn't realize and I was still at it, my vibrator buzzing and I was moaning and panting. It was only when I'd finished cumming that I could hear how loud I'd been and how quiet the house was and he shouted from his room asking if I was alright and if I needed anything."

"You should have said yes."

"I know. I didn't think of it. I just said I must have been having a funny dream. I don't know if he believed me."

Anne filled my wine glass:

"So Angela, it sounds like you really want to fuck your son. I don't blame you. I would!"

There was a chorus of giggles.

I gave her an old fashioned look:

"Well it's okay if it's just a fantasy isn't it. I'm not actually going to do it. Am I?"

Tina winked at me:

"I don't know Angela. I don't see why not. You obviously want to. He clearly wants to. His dad's not taking care of business. I know you wouldn't be the first mother to think about fucking her son."

Lucy had been listening intently. At Tina's last words she could contain herself no longer:

"Oh my goodness. I'm so glad you said that Tina. That's so true. I knew I wasn't the only one."

Lucy's Story

Lucy looked around at us and tried to regain her composure:

"I just mean that probably lots of mothers have thoughts like this. I think every mum thinks about fucking her son at some point. I know I've thought about it. Quite a lot actually. Like when Jamie brought his last girlfriend home at Christmas I was totally jealous of the slut."

We all laughed:

"No seriously; she totally knew what she was doing. She kept sitting on his lap and rubbing his dick when we were watching television. Right in front of me. Almost fucking they were.

And she kept complimenting me but like a total bitch. You know: telling me that my tits were still very good for a woman of my age and then showing off her big firm knockers so Jamie and his dad couldn't take their eyes off them.

And when they fucked at night; oh my god you would not believe the noises and dirty talk that came out of that girl's mouth: total exhibitionist; no way does a normal woman sound like that; it was like listening to a '70s Swedish porno flick and so totally for my benefit. It was as though she was showing everyone that it was her fucking my son not his mother. It didn't do anything for me but it got Gerry all excited. I've never seen him so aroused. He kept trying to hump me with his little dick whenever they were at it and she was moaning her ridiculous obscenities. There was no way I was going to let him cum in my pussy to the soundtrack of that bitch faking it with our son. I pushed him off. I wouldn't even let him wank in the bed next to me. I was furious. I made him go out and sleep in the car while I lay there, masturbating, listening to them shag, wishing it was me that Jamie was fucking and working out ways of murdering the bitch."

Lucy had another glass of wine and carried on:

"The cow had my poor Gerry in a right state. She kept sticking her tits in his face and acting all coy, telling him how much she preferred older men and asking him to show her how to play golf, poking her bum against his crotch while he showed her how to handle his putter. He was a complete soppy old fool, following her round with his tongue out and his little pecker all stiff. Then she had the cheek to come and complain to me that he'd got his dick out in front of her. As if he would. I told her it was all a misunderstanding. She said she would forgive him out of respect for me as Jamie's mother and the bond we shared as women."

We all listened intently as Lucy got everything off her chest:

"She even told me that Jamie's greatest sexual fantasy was to make love to the two most important women in his life; meaning the two of us! Me and herself! Jamie wants to fuck us both at the same time apparently. I told her, he's never said anything to me, I'm sure he would have mentioned it to his mother first! She looked me in the eyes and stroked my thigh and said that now she'd met me and seen for herself how powerful, beautiful and sexy I am she shared his fantasy and hoped it would come true. Can you believe the cheek of the girl? What a lot of nonsense. I was gobsmacked. She looked at me all sultry and said: 'Your son is a wonderful lover it would be an honour to share him with you' like I was supposed to be turned on or impressed!"

We laughed at Lucy's mocking mimicry of the young woman's voice:

"Yeah. Then she told me how proud I must be as a mother that my son has a wonderful great cock and not a small one like his father. Bitch. That girl really knows how to hurt a woman. Totally below the belt."

I stroked her shoulder supportively:

"Oh Lucy, that's awful. Is Jamie still with this girl?"

She rolled her eyes:

"Yes and no. She's gone to Goa with one of her ex-boyfriends. Jamie's still besotted by her though; he really thinks she's the one for him. They're still sexting and he says she says she just needs space and time before she commits to him. I can't tell him she's just a cheating manipulative slut can I? He's promised to be faithful to her so he's not getting his dick wet and that's making him totally crazy for her. You know what men are like if you don't give them any; they'll do anything you want! She's got the silly sod right where she wants him."

She looked up and took a deep breath:

"So, yeah. I would fuck my son. If only for his own good, to knock some sense into him. But also because, like the bitch said; he does have a much bigger cock than his father."

Mary slammed her glass down on my glass topped coffee table.

"Well ladies I'm sorry to break up this wonderful mother-son fucking incest consensus but there is no way I would let my Tommy's dick anywhere near my lovely motherly cunt. No moralism here but no way. Just no. Yuck."

Tina filled Mary's glass:

"Mary, do you think there's a particular reason for that? I mean, unless your Tommy's had a late growth spurt since we had this conversation three years ago, I'm guessing he's still got a very little dick."

Mary's Story

Mary nodded and shrugged.

"Yeah. He has still got a very little dick. That's true. And maybe if he had a big cock like your boys I'd be all over it. But he hasn't. So I'm not. I have had to deal with a totally different situation than you mothers. I don't think you understand. It's not just his little dick. It's the little dick syndrome that goes with it. If he's not dealt with decisively a man with a little dick can be a nasty, macho, self-pitying misogynist. Just like his dad was, probably still is, for all I care.

You lucky mothers, with your lovely big well hung boys have no idea what I've been through, what a battle I've had to keep my Tommy from turning into a bastard like his dad. What I've had to do."

We asked her to explain what she'd had to do.

"I've had to be totally honest with him for a start. Whenever he asked me to look at his willy and tell him why all his friends were much bigger I was honest. When he asked me if his dick was big enough. I told him straight: no, absolutely not. I never lied. I never pretended he was average sized. I told him he has a very small dick. When he asked me if size matters I didn't lie. I said; fuck yes size matters, a lot. I told him straight. I told him his dick was very small and that size does matter. I said: women need and deserve big cocks. I was preparing him for the reality of life. I didn't want the response he was inevitably going to get from girls to be a total shock."

Tina butted in:

"Is that why you always teased him about his small dick, called him names and made fun of him in front of his big sisters?"

Mary shrugged and smiled:

"Yeah. Partly. Partly also because I couldn't help it; small dick men bring out the cruel streak in me. But they do need to know their place. So okay, maybe it was funny for me. But it was important preparation for Tommy."

"Every girl he met in the first two years at university cheated on him, teased him, dumped him. He had a lot of humiliating experiences. All of which, thank goodness, I'd prepared him for.

Each time he came home after being dumped he would be more macho and nasty; talking shit about girls, coming out with aggressive, misogynist nonsense.

Me and his sisters would set him straight. We'd put a stop to it and make sure he knew his place. Every time he came out with some sexist offensive rubbish we would pull down his pants and put him over our knees and spank his bottom like he was a little boy until he cried, begged for mercy, showed us respect and apologized. Eventually he learned to behave.

I explained to him. Tommy I said: if you have a little dick you need to be nicer to women not nastier. You need to look up to women, be polite, respectful, helpful, courteous, obedient.