This Mother's Solution Ch. 02

joelle_m©

The next time I came to his room, as usual David was lying there waiting for me. Instead of hiding himself the way he had at first, the covers were only up to his waist. I walked over and stood next to his bed.

"Mind if I peek under there?" I asked as I lifted the corner of his sheet and folded everything back to his knees.

"My, my, what have we here?" I kidded him, referring to his erection, "Why don't you scoot over so I have a place to sit."

After I sat down I asked, "Would you like to open my robe?"

His hands were a little shaky and he fumbled around a bit as he did it. I didn't do anything to help him and occupied myself with letting down my hair. When he was done, I took his hand and brought it to me.

"These are for you, tiger."

He started out touching my nipples with the tips of his fingers. They stiffened immediately. He raised his eyebrows.

"See. . . just like I said they would," I told him.

Slowly he got more adventuresome. He cupped them in his hands and squeezed them hesitantly.

"Oooooh. . . they LIKE that," I encouraged him.

He moved them from side to side with the palm of his hand then held his hand under the bottom of one and lifted it as if judging it's weight. Of course he repeatedly came back to playing with my nipples. Needless to say, no matter what he was doing, it delighted me.

"That's nice, squeeze it a little," I said, referring to the nipple he had between his finger and his thumb, "that feels sooooo good."

I put my hands over his signaling him that I liked what he was doing and wanted him to keep doing it. He was making me more and more aroused.

"I'll bet I know something else you'd like even better," I said.

"What's that?"

"They like to be kissed."

"Wow, really?. . . Can I do that?" he asked, looking incredulous with his eyebrows raised.

"Sure."

He repositioned himself, leaned across my lap and started kissing the side of my breast with tentative little pecks, gradually working his way towards the nipple. When he got there he took it between his lips and sucked softly, brushing it with the tip of his tongue and letting it pop in and out of his mouth. I put my hand behind his head to hold him against me. I felt like I'd died and gone to heaven.

"You're my little baby again," I whispered in his ear.

"So, I got to do this when I was a baby, huh?" he asked, somehow managing to keep everything in his mouth as he spoke.

"For over a year actually," I clarified for him.

For a while he forgot about anything else and nursed me for quite some time. I could feel his erection pressed against the side of my leg. Eventually he pulled his head away, resumed touching my breasts with his hand and started stroking himself with the other. Because of the side I was sitting on, he had to do it with his left hand but, even though he's right-handed, it didn't seem to bother him.

Before too awfully long he said, "I'm going to cum, mom."

He had begun telling me when it was about to happen, at my request, a few days before. I loved knowing in advance. It made the anticipation all the more delicious.

"Here it comes," he exclaimed in a breathy whisper and his cum landed on both of us, part on his chest and part on mine.

And then the strangest thing happened: I spontaneously did something that I had never even considered doing beforehand.

A fair amount of cum was on my forearm and as soon as I saw it there, I raised my arm and licked it off. David's mouth hung open because he was just as surprised as I was. Neither of us said a word. For a few seconds we froze in place, just staring at each other. I couldn't think of anything earth shattering to say so I made a production of licking my lips.

"Ummm. . . yummy," I murmered.

He gave me a huge smile and then, right after I swallowed it, for the very first time I leaned over and kissed him on the lips. It wasn't a passionate kiss; just a warm, lingering, loving kiss and he kissed me back the same way. We had never kissed like that before. Not ever.

I stayed very close to him and with our lips barely apart I told him, "I love you."

"Can I kiss you again?" he whispered back and as I nodded 'yes' he did, this time much more ardently. Wet and warm our lips glided over each other, back and forth. As I registered that it was my very own son I was doing this with, a tingling sensation went through my whole body. I clearly remember feeling that.

Considering my past experiences, in more ways than one this whole thing was very unusual. I had performed oral sex on my husband a few times but I didn't particularly like doing it. I had always spit out his cum because it seemed like the obvious thing to do. He had never told me that men like it if you swallow it. My best girlfriend told me that years later. I think it implies some kind of acceptance or something. Somehow my son's cum was different. It didn't really have any flavor, kind of the same as egg whites, but taking it into my mouth and swallowing it seemed to be an almost spiritual thing. I know that sounds ridiculous but that's the way I felt.

In the logical sequence of things, I'm sure that the reader can figure out what happened next. With me sitting on his bed every night and my son right next to me, stroking himself to orgasm, it was inevitable. I knew it was going to happen and I anticipated that he would ask. Surprisingly he didn't. Instead of making any kind of request verbally, one time he silently took my hand, placed it on his cock and with raised eyebrows and a half smile on his face, looked at me expectantly. I let my hand lie there and I didn't remove it but I didn't do anything with it either. Of course I knew exactly what he had in mind.

"I don't know if that's such a good idea," I said. "You know what happens. . . one thing leads to another and before you know it, we've gone too far."

The whole time I'm saying this my hand is where he put it, lying there, motionless. Even though I wasn't doing anything to stimulate him, I felt his cock reacting to my hand's presence. It wasn't getting bigger, because it was already as big as it could get, but periodically it tensed and lifted a fraction of an inch off his abdomen, lifting my hand with it.

"Oh no, I swear on a stack of bibles," he said, "I'll never ask for anything else. Please, PLEASE."

"I don't know. . . I just don't think I ought to do this," at which point he put his hand over mine, pushed down slightly and tried to move my hand back and forth.

"Oh, come on. . . please. . . I promise I'll be good."

"Well. . . I'm taking you at your word, young man. . . I know I'll regret this but maybe just this one time. . ."

And with that I slid my fingers underneath and slowly started moving my hand back and forth.

"Is that right?" I asked.

"JUUUUST right," he answered and lay back on his pillow grinning from ear to ear. As I proceeded, he clasped his hands behind his head with his elbows sticking out to each side, his eyes focused on what I was doing.

"You've got to tell me what to do," I said, "I've never done anything like this before. Am I holding it firmly enough?"

"That's about right. . . maybe a little bit harder."

A minute or so went by and the whole time I was enjoying more and more what I was doing. I was stroking him more slowly than what I remembered was his usual pace but I thought that would make things last longer. I was having too much fun to want to cut it short. I knew that at that moment, David was totally under my control. It was an exhilarating feeling.

"How fast?" I inquired, "Let me know when you want me to go faster or slower."

"OK. . . keep doing it like that for a while. That feels soooo good, you can't believe it."

There was this kind of slippery bump that my fingers felt as they glided over the ridge between the head and the shaft. The head was noticeably more purple colored. After a while, he spoke again.

"Just a little bit faster. . . yeah, yeah. . . faster. . . faster. . . oh, man."

By now I was moving my hand very rapidly and I was wondering how long I could keep it up. My arm was getting tired so I tried stopping for a few seconds and squeezing him firmly while I rested. I did this a few times and I could see by the expression on his face that he was liking it. Each time I started stroking again, he closed his eyes, pulled back his lips and I could see that he was clenching his teeth together.

At some point I changed how I was holding him so that my fingers wrapped all the way around the shaft. It was like I was afraid I was going to lose my grip. I did manage to keep stroking him, however, and all of a sudden without my knowing it was coming, the spurts began! The feeling was magical.

I pumped him as fast as I could.

I could feel each pulse under my fingers. I was so wrapped up in what I was doing that I unconsciously transferred what was happening to him back to me and I made a grunting noise with each eruption. I was feeling a sexual high that was unlike anything I had ever experienced. It's hard to explain what that felt like but I would imagine that it's similar to the way you would feel if, for the first time in your life and with no training at all, you were given the control of an airplane while it was soaring through the air.

I've totally blanked out on what happened immediately afterwards but by the time I got back to my room, I was shaking. I got in bed gave myself incredible orgasms. I don't believe I had ever been vocal when giving myself pleasure but that night I was. Very vocal with moaning and groaning and whatnot.

The next morning, what David said surprised me.

"You know mom, I heard you last night, after you went back to your room."

When he said this I was sitting at the kitchen table with my back to him, looking at the newspaper. I hoped I had misunderstood what he was saying.

"What do you mean?" I responded, pretending to be distracted by what I was reading.

This was the first time that it had crystallized in my consciousness that I had been making sounds of ecstasy while I was masturbating. Even had I realized at the time what I was doing, it never would have occurred to me that David could hear me, with two closed bedroom doors and a length of hallway in between us.

"You know what I mean, ELLEN," he said.

The way he emphasized my name went off like a gunshot in my ears. He hardly ever called me by name. It was always "mom" or "mother" or "hey, you" or something like that. The way he said it made it sound like he was talking to a girlfriend rather than a parent.

Even though I kept staring at the paper, my attention was totally focused on what he was saying. Unfortunately, no reply came to mind. There was something about the idea of him knowing that I was masturbating that made me extremely uncomfortable so I just sat there, frozen in silence. In spite of what was happening between us, I was still his mother and it seemed like this subject was a little too personal for us to be discussing. Talk about ironies: it was OK for me to know that he was masturbating and it was even OK for me to help him do it but in my mind, the reverse was out of bounds

After a while he said, "I was blown away last night. That was the best ever. From the sound of it, you must have liked it too, huh?"

I thought for a while and then in quiet, drawn out, measured tones, trying to sound severe and not very pleased that he was asking me that, I said, "Y-e-s D-a-v-i-d, I d-i-d."

"So, does that mean we can do it that way again?"

"I didn't know you were going to like it that much, " I lied, "but. . . it just so happens I liked it too. So if that's what you want, I suppose we will. Like I told you before, you're all the sex life I've got."

There was a break in the conversation and after a while I put the paper in my lap, looked over my shoulder at him and continued.

"You're probably thinking I'm a pushover. . . letting you talk me into these things. . . one thing's not going to change though, no matter what. We're never going to have regular sex. . . you do know that don't you? That's not going to happen."

"Yeah, I figured as much."

"I'm glad to hear that," the relief in my voice obvious and I turned back to look at the paper. There was a break in the conversation and I assumed David was getting his breakfast together. After a while he spoke to me again.

"You know mom, I wish you hadn't left so soon last night cause I wanted you to do it to me again."

"Again. . . what do you mean, again? I thought you were done."

"Not really."

As he was saying that, I felt his hand on the back of my head, pulling my hair to one side and then I felt something soft touch the back of my neck. Startled, I turned around in my chair and what I saw surprised me: while I wasn't looking, he had unbuttoned his jeans, lowered his shorts and there he was, hard as a rock! He had touched the back my neck with the end of his cock. He wasn't even holding it with his hand. It was sticking out like a little flag pole.

"David!" I exclaimed, "What on earth. . ."

"If you wanted to be nice you could make up for leaving too soon right now."

"Oh, really? Well, aren't I the lucky one. You know I told you that was going to be a one time thing."

"I was kind of hoping you'd change your mind."

"I'll just bet you were. Besides. . . I had no idea it was even possible for you to. . . you know. . . that often. Are you sure you can do that again, so soon?"

"You bet," and he reached down, took my hand and guided it to him.

"Boy, aren't you the horny one," I said and I started stroking him. "You sure aren't like your dad. It usually took him two or three days to recover."

He was standing right in front of me as I sat there and after a while he rested his hands on top of my head. I could feel his fingers contract and relax as he grasped my hair, keeping time with my motions as my hand went back and forth. I started out looking at what I was doing but after a while I looked up and our eyes met. I opened my mouth slightly and began breathing very deeply, the whole time with us looking at each other. Needless to say, it was a VERY intimate moment between us.

"This is making me very hot, David, are you getting close?" I asked.

"Uh-huh"

"Cum for me sweetheart. . . I want to see it."

I was all dressed up for work and I recall that I momentarily panicked about the possibility of getting my clothes messed up when the inevitable happened. It crossed my mind to keep that from happening by taking him in my mouth but that was out of the question so just in the nick of time I cupped my other hand in front of him.

"Uhhhhh. . . uhhhhh. . . oooooh yeah," he moaned.

Towards the end of his orgasm, his hands were gripping my hair so tightly it hurt a little. Once again, just like the previous night, the feeling of his cock thrusting through my fingers and seeing each spurt of cum from just inches away was mesmerizing. After he was done and he saw the pool of white liquid in the palm of my hand, he wanted me to take it in my mouth. I can't remember how he phrased it but that's what he wanted.

"Not this time, baby. Maybe some other time," I replied.

Cleaning up afterwards wasn't a big job. David wiped himself off with a paper towel; I washed my hands in the sink and we were both as good as new.

Needless to say, after that our get-togethers changed completely. From then on it was always me doing the handiwork. Once or twice I watched him do it to himself, just the way we started out, but that was the exception. Also, that was the first time we did this kind of thing outside of David's bedroom. Naturally it wasn't the last.

Weeks later we went shopping one evening. We both had some things we wanted to buy at various stores so we set out on a trip to the local mall. I was driving. As we drove on a stretch of empty road, David decided to indulge himself. He reached across the car's center console, slipped his hand inside my coat, unbuttoned the top buttons of my blouse and tried to slip his fingers inside my bra. He couldn't quite navigate this maneuver and had to settle for cupping my breast through the fabric. Nevertheless, it was a deliciously erotic thing to do and it stimulated me immensely.

"Careful young man, you're going to get yourself in trouble," I warned him.

When we got to the mall, before we got out of the car, David said, "Hey mom, there seems to be a problem here," nodding down towards his lap.

I looked over to see what it was he was talking about. He had an erection and it was obvious even though it was inside his trousers. There was no way we were going anywhere with him looking like that.

"I think you should take care of it for me," he said.

"WHAT? Right here? Are you kidding? Someone might see us. No way I'm doing anything like that."

"Would you rather walk around with me looking like this?"

I thought about it for a while, drumming my fingers on the steering wheel and asked, "Can't we just wait for it to go down?"

"I have the feeling that's not going to happen. You've got me all worked up."

There was another big pause and then he told me his solution.

"You could park over there where there's no cars," he said, looking towards an empty part of the lot that was farther away from the entrance to the mall.

"We could see someone coming long before they got there," he added.

"Yeah, but. . ."

"No buts. Come on, let's do it."

The more I thought about the idea, the more it was tempting me. It was an incredibly stupid thing to do but I decided to go along.

"OK," I said after a long pause, "but you'd better make it quick. I don't want this to backfire on us."

I started up the car and drove over. David had his pants open before I even parked. Seated the way we were, I would have had to reach over to him with my left hand which I didn't relish doing, plus the console was in the way, so I suggested we switch sides and get in the back seat. He had to zip up again but that's what we did. As soon as he was ready for me, I sat sideways facing him, conjured up as much saliva as I could muster, spit it into my hand and smoothed it over his cock. The image that made, his erection glistening in the light from one of the towers illuminating the parking lot, has stayed with me to this day. I can picture it like a photograph.

I didn't fool around with any build up because I wanted him to cum as quickly as possible, so I stroked him as hard and as fast as I could. The whole time I kept looking back and forth between David and the parking lot to see if anyone was coming but fortunately no one did. My accelerated pace did make it quick but there was a factor that neither one of us had counted on. There was no way for me to get my left hand in position, like I had weeks earlier at the kitchen table, so he spurted all over everything. On his clothes, on parts of the car. . . everything. And to make matters worse, there was nothing handy to clean up with. So the irony was, in spite of what we'd done, we didn't make it to the mall anyway. We had to go back home and erase the signs of our behavior, sinners that we were. Regardless, it was an adventure for the record books.

Right after this, David became noticeably more sexually aggressive. He took to being "fresh" (an old-fashioned term I've always liked) with me. It's like we had a certain kind of sexual familiarity with each other. For my part, I didn't mind at all because I loved the attention.

Of all the things he liked to do when we weren't in his room, probably his number one favorite was playing with my boobs. Even when there was nothing serious to immediately follow, he liked to slip his hand inside my blouse, cup my breast and feel the nipple grow hard. This might happen at any time: when he'd sneak up behind me while I was doing things in the kitchen, when we were sitting next to each other on the couch watching TV, any time at all. Often he'd kiss my neck or stick his tongue in my ear and nibble on my earlobe at the same time. To accommodate him, I took to running around the house with no bra under whatever I was wearing. Even though we weren't having actual sex, David treated me more like a lover than any of my previous boyfriends ever had, including his father Jim.

As time went by, finishing my day in David's bedroom became a regular thing. I'm sure I looked forward to being there just as much as he looked forward to having me visit. To be perfectly honest, during this time, l became obsessed with what we were doing. Making him cum was my ultimate goal, naturally, but from my point of view, what happened before that was even more important. I thought about it day and night.

After we had been getting together for several weeks, there were times when he wasn't hard every single minute, times when we were talking about other things or just joking with each other. Sooner or later, however, it was my job to awaken his sleeping sex organ from it's slumber. There were all sorts of ways I could do it. Sometimes all I had to do was kiss him, maybe somewhere on his face, maybe on his ears or neck, maybe on his chest. I was not giving him oral sex but sometimes I would pretend like I was going to and kiss him various places, moving my kisses closer and closer to his groin. That drove him to distraction and made it stiffen every time.

Right around this same time in our relationship, there was something else we did a few times that was one of David's favorites. I've never come across a name for this so it requires a bit of explanation.

Years before, when I was in college, in my sophomore year I had a dorm roommate who loved to tell me about her encounters with the various young men around campus she dated. And there were plenty of those. To be blunt, she was a poster child for the word promiscuous. I was more into studying in those days but I liked having her tell me about her adventures as much as she liked talking about them. It gave me a nice break from my bookwork. It seems she had a specialty that gave her a widespread reputation as a sort of playmate, in the Playboy magazine sense of the word. Her area of expertise was oral sex. She was quite proud of this and, as I said, loved giving her roommate (me) all the juicy details.

She told me that one aspect of her technique involved a method she used for heightening the intensity of the experience her young man was having. You'd think that a college age male, being lucky enough to be the recipient of oral sex, would be getting all the intensity he needed but apparently my friend didn't want to leave anything to chance. The way this works, she said, is that first you tell the guy to let you know when he is about to cum, at which point you take his penis out of your mouth, grip it in one hand with your thumb on the top side, at about the mid point of the shaft, and two or three fingers on the other side, by the head. Then you bend the shaft over your thumb until it's at about a 90 degree angle, pointing towards the gentleman's chest, and hold it there for 10 or 15 seconds. That sounds like it would be very painful for the poor guy but she swore that it wasn't. What happens, she claimed, is that the whole orgasm mechanism is turned off and the guy's urge to cum immediately ceases. Then you start the whole process over again and do the same thing another time or two: work him up and shut him down, work him up and shut him down and so forth. And then comes the finale.

After the last time you've held things off, you let your guy go to completion, just like you would normally, and a number of remarkable things happen. First of all, and most importantly, the orgasm he experiences is considerably more intense. According to what her fortunate men-friends told her, it's a real mind-blower. Secondly, the physical aspects are more dramatic also. The guy produces maybe half again as much cum as he ordinarily would, plus there are more spurts and each one comes out with much greater force.

When I related this story to David, naturally he was very keen to have me do it to him. Even though I wasn't giving him blowjobs, as my roommate referred to them, it was easy to adapt her technique to what we were doing, especially considering that my hand was where it should be right from the start. The first time we tried it, we were a little late shutting things down and since I was worried about hurting him when I bent his cock, I did it very slowly. The result was that we didn't stop him from ejaculating. After that, just so I would be more confidant the next time, we practiced the bending part several times and he told me that it didn't hurt at all. After that, every time we tried it, everything went just about the way my roommate had advertised.

Considering that, aside from her sexual proclivities, my roommate was kind of a ding-bat, I must say that I was quite surprised. For reasons I'm not quite sure of, I had never tried doing this with either my boyfriends or with my husband Jim. Maybe that's because I didn't expect it to work, which would have made the whole thing kind of embarrassing.

There was one other thing that David and I took to doing regularly but this one we invented ourselves. From comments that he had made to me, some of which I've already related, I got the impression that David liked the idea of cumming more than once during each of our evenings together. When we did it, the second go-round took considerably longer plus there was a fairly long break in between while David recovered. I enjoyed our extra time together immensely because it gave us a chance to talk. Since we were lying in his bed together, with him fully naked and me half naked, we conversed about things I would imagine rarely come up between most mothers and their sons.

We told dirty jokes to each other; I told him about my sexual experiences with other men (not including his dad); he told me about girls that he lusted after, what it was about their physical appearance that he found attractive and exactly what kind of sexual activity he would like to do with them, should he ever have the opportunity; I told him about unusual encounters that women friends had related to me (whips and chains, guys that liked to be tied up, that kind of thing); etc., etc., etc. The conversation I remember most clearly was the time David told me about a double date he had gone on with his best boyfriend, Brian and their girlfriends.

Because we were so open and frank with each other, I knew that David was still a virgin but his date this night, a girl named Kristy, was the girl he hoped would someday relieve him of that unpleasant label. After a movie, the four of them went over to his friend's house because his parents were out of town on a trip. As would be expected, shortly thereafter a make-out session ensued.

"So, did you two have fun after Brian and his girlfriend went to the other room?" I asked.

"We sure did."

"What did you do? Tell me about it."

"Oh, you know. . . lots of kissing, stuff like that."

"Come on," I prompted him, "I'll bet you did more than that."

"Well. . . she let me get into her pants."

"Ooooh, wow. . . she's never let you do that before I take it"

"Nope. Up til then I only got to play with her tits."

"So. . ."

"Well, she was wearing this short skirt, like she always does, and I was feeling up her legs, only this time when I tried to go higher, she didn't stop me. Before she never let me get much past her knees. This time I got to go all the way up and she never said anything."

"Then what happened?"

"I was feeling her through her panties and boy were they wet. . . I mean soaking wet, not just a little damp. Is that supposed to happen?"

David had apparently started to recover from his first climax because he was getting hard again. I wanted to hear the end of what he was telling me, though, so I let him continue talking without doing anything.

"Yes it is," I said, in answer to his question, "that's what girls do when they get excited. You were turning her on."

"Neat. . . anyway, after I felt her for a while through her panties, she let me go underneath and. . ."

"And what?"

After a long pause he said, "and, you know. . . I got to feel her pussy. It was all soft and squishy and stuff."

"Well, congratulations. Is that the first time you ever got to do that to a girl?"

"Uh huh."

"Did you know what to do. . . how to touch her there?"

"What do you mean, how? I just played with her pussy. . . she seemed to like it," he said.

"I'm sure she did but. . . did you make her cum?"

"I'm not sure. . . I don't know if I did or not. If I did, it wasn't real obvious. . . She didn't yell and scream or anything.

"There's a special way that girls like to be touched, David. Just like there's a special way that I touch you. If you want to make Kristy have her climax, you have to touch her that way."

There was a long pause and I said, "Hasn't your dad ever told you about that?"

"No."

"Well, he should have. OK, here's the deal," and I gave him the best explanation I could of how that works, all about clitorises and whatnot.

"Why don't you show me how to do it to you and then I'd know for sure?" he asked.

"I could but you KNOW that's not going to happen. We've talked about that before. That's something you'll just have to learn on your own," and to get his mind off what he was thinking I said, "now why don't you close your eyes and imagine what it'll be like if Kristy lets you put this big thing of yours inside her someday," and I started stroking him.

"There's something else you've got to remember too, if you and Kristy ever do it. If she's a virgin, you're going to have to go real slow with her. You could split her open with this monster of yours, make her bleed all over the place. If you're careful though, it'll make her feel soooo good, sweetheart," I cooed to him, "You'll make her cum over and over again."

"I'd rather do it to you, mom. . . I'd rather make you cum."

"I wish I could let you. Really I do. . . but we can't do that. Listen, let me tell you something. You know what you were doing that day I saw you looking at my picture? I'm sure you know, girls do that too. I can guarantee you that Kristy has played with herself many, many times while she was thinking of you."

"Is that right? That never occurred to me."

"You bet I'm right. . . Let me tell you a little secret. . . You do the same thing to me. . . I touch myself that way every single night thinking of nothing but you. You make me cum, my darling little lover, you just don't do it with your thing."

"You mean every night you. . ."

"Yes I do, sweetheart. I can't help it because doing this," I said, looking down at his erection as I moved it through my hand, "makes me so excited I have to." That was the last of our conversation before we concentrated on finishing the task at hand.

Part of my obsession had to do with making David's ejaculations as visually dramatic as possible. So, regardless of the clean-up problems it caused, I almost always held his cock straight up and down when the 'moment of truth' arrived. I remember that on this particular night, most likely because of our sexy conversation, the second time I made him cum, it was even more spectacular than the first. His gush must have gone half way to the ceiling!

As close as we were, everything David and I did together wasn't sexually oriented. For one thing, once in a blue moon, as they say, I slept overnight in David's bed. However, I never did it with anything sexual in mind. A few times it was because he was sick and I wanted to comfort him. Other times I just felt the need to be close to someone, especially David, while I slept.

I always made it a point to wear something in addition to my nightgown because of those unintended things that can happen when you're fast asleep and the person you are intimate with is sleeping next to you. I remembered from my time being married that it was common to find myself having sex with Jim without being conscious of how things got started. I knew this was a possibility with David too but I figured that having to remove a bunch of clothes before we went 'all the way' would make me wake up, at which point I could put a stop to things.

One night David was suffering from a cold and after our usual erotic romp, we decided it would be nice if I stayed the night with him. Somehow, no matter how sick he was, he still liked having me play with his "thing". Anyhow, afterwards, when we turned off the lights, David went to sleep with me holding him in my arms. I couldn't go to sleep right away myself and after a while the reason became apparent. To put it simply, I was horny. VERY horny.

I should have climbed out of bed, gone back to my room and relieved myself the way I usually did after our nightly encounters but because of our sleeping arrangement, that was difficult to do. Since one side of his bed, the one I was sleeping on, was situated next to a wall, I was afraid that climbing over him would wake him up. Instead I tried to push my emotions out of my mind. Eventually, after about an hour, I drifted off. Exactly what happened after that, I'm not too clear about because a lot of it took place while I was still at least partially asleep.

I think there was a lot of lips-on-bodies type kissing and wrestling around. I'm guessing that David was awake for longer than I was but possibly not. Regardless, he was the aggressor and a very pleasurable aggressor he was. While I was in my dream-state, I'm pretty sure that David was kissing and licking my legs. What ever he was doing, it gave me this blissful feeling, sort of the same way a very pleasant dream would. As I was waking up, I became aware that his lips and his kisses were right where my thighs and the crotch of my panties come together.

"David. . . DAVID. . . " I said loudly enough to be sure he was awake and from the tone of my voice to let him know that what he was doing had to stop.

He made no answer but he rolled away to the side. For a brief moment I worried that something I had wanted to avoid had happened but as I became more aware of our situation, I realized that it had not. My nightgown was bunched up around my waist but other than that, what I was wearing was not disrupted at all. Surprisingly, that was the end of it. I took David in my arms again and we both went right back to sleep. The next day we didn't speak about what had happened and haven't to this day.

There was another incident, this one of a different sort, that happened another time we slept together. This one was entirely of my own making. Sometime in the middle of the night I partially woke and realized that I was massaging my clitoris. I hoped that I could quietly satisfy myself, with David being none the wiser, and then go back to sleep.

I was careful not to make any moans and groans and avoided all the body movement I could. Unfortunately, I forgot about the facial expressions I was making. Just when things were going very nicely, I can't be sure but out of the corner of my eye I thought I glimpsed David looking at me. At the time my mouth was wide open, my lips were curled in a grimace and my head was tilted back on my pillow because I was in the throes of my orgasm.

I didn't look over at David, which would have told him I knew he was looking at me, but instead I closed my eyes and kept my climax going for a while longer. It was too late to stop and pretend that nothing was going on. If David was looking at me, he must have had quite an eyeful, even if all he could see was my face. After it was over, I kept my eyes closed and took a few deep breaths. I let myself calm down for a few minutes, rolled on my side with my back to David and went back to sleep, just as I had originally intended. The same as the other time, the next day neither of us spoke of this.

And then there was New Year's Eve.

Neither David nor I had made any plans with other people so we decided to stay at home and celebrate by ourselves. To liven things up, a few days before, on my way back from work, I stopped at the store and bought us a bottle of Champaign. Since I wasn't much of a drinker, that night it only took a couple of glasses before I was feeling tipsy. I'm sure David was too. We should have rented a movie but instead we tuned in the TV to the traditional Dick Clark countdown from Times Square. Of course, that was just as boring as it always is so our attention drifted to other things.

After a little more of the bubbly stuff, we were sitting on the couch cuddling and petting. The only thing that interrupted us was when we'd stop to have more to drink. Unbelievably (to me anyway) after a couple of hours we finished the whole bottle. To call a spade a spade, by then we were both dead drunk.

I don't remember much of anything after that except that some how, some way I ended up giving David oral sex. And the only reason I remember even that much is one little detail that registered through my alcoholic fog: the temperature of his cum. Considering that I had done oral several times with other men, which means that I should have known about the particulars in advance, it seems a little odd that the only thing that stuck in my mind is that his cum felt like it had been heated in the microwave.

Naturally, on New Year's Day we talked about what we had done the night before. David seemed to remember a lot more about it than I did and he reminded me of some things that I wasn't particularly thrilled to hear.

"I think last night's going to be my all time favorite New Year's party, mom."

"Really. . . let me ask you something. . . I didn't misbehave by any chance, did I?"

"Oh, I don't know. . . depends on how you look at it."

"Uh oh. . . Did I really. . ." and he knew what I was asking without my even saying it.

"Yes you did."

"I was afraid of that. What else did I do?" I asked him.

"Nothing much really. . . let's see, you tried to swallow my thing."

"I WHAT??? What on earth are you talking about?" I asked.

"You know. . . you tried to take it all the way in your mouth. Deep throat I think it's called."

"Oh my God!"

"But you didn't make it. . . you gagged."

"I can't believe this. . ., " I stammered.

"Who cares," David said, "there's always next time."

"Are you kidding? There isn't going to be a next time. We're not going to do that again. It's too much like regular. . . you know. . . screwing. You know as well as I do, we got carried away. We both had too much to drink."

(As a side note, several years earlier I had managed "deep throat" with a boyfriend. Most likely that was because his penis is quite a bit smaller. He and David aren't even in the same league, size-wise. David's dad is sort of in-between but, even though he likes oral sex, remarkably, he never asked me to do it to him so I never did. I imagine I tried to do it for David simply because I wanted to please him.)

Speaking of oral sex, coincidentally, about a week later my computer crashed and I had to take it to the shop for repair. Not wanting to let my email stack up, I asked David if I could use his PC once in a while to see if I had any messages. One weekend afternoon when I went to his room to do that, I noticed that David had left his web browser running with his "Favorites" list superimposed on one side. I wasn't inclined to snoop but I couldn't help noticing that he had created several folders to categorize the various sites he had bookmarked. One of those folders was titled "Girls". My curiosity got the better of me, so I opened that folder and inside were a half dozen or so web site addresses, all of them, as I discovered when I opened them, porno stuff.

That part didn't surprise me. I knew that boys David's age (or boys of any age for that matter) were interested in that kind of thing. What did surprise me, however, was that they were all oriented to a very specific kind of sex. Some were collections of still photographs and some were videos. Regardless of the format, they were all what the copy on the web sites referred to as "cum shots". David wasn't home so I spent a bit of time going through them.

After looking for a while, I determined that David was fascinated by this part of oral sex. As long as what we were doing didn't involve him putting his penis in my mouth, I had no problem with that. I wanted to give him as much pleasure as I could so the images I was seeing became a kind of teaching tool for me.

The next time I came to his room, I wanted to treat him to some of what I had learned. Having had a lot of practice, when I was stroking him I could tell when he was close to cumming.

"Are you getting there, sweetheart?" I asked.

"Uh huh."

"Cum on my face, baby."

"Oh, wow."

I leaned over and held my head just inches away from the end of his cock. The first spurt landed on my cheek and the rest close by. I must have been quite a sight with his sperm splashed all over my face.

"Wow. . . that was great! Oh, geeze mom. . . some almost got in your eye," he said and he took his thumb and wiped it away.

"I didn't know you'd go for that," he continued, "I was afraid to ask."

Usually, we took a break of 10 or 15 minutes before David was ready for a repeat performance but this time he was so aroused that he wanted to begin the second round immediately. My hand and his cock were still wet from the first time, so we made a lot of squish, squish, squishing sounds. It was a calendar night for both of us.

Speaking of squishing sounds, at this same time I hit on the idea of occasionally using a lubricant. I didn't have anything appropriate in my toiletries so instead I filled a little glass vial with olive oil. I would pour a stream over his cock as it lay on his abdomen and, just to be sure there was plenty, I would pour some in the palm of my hand. Seeing the oil coating his big, shinny pillar of flesh and watching it ooze between my fingers and run over the back of my hand, gave me a definite thrill.

Starting out each time with this new olive oil thing, over the next several days I treated David to a variety of "cum shots", all of which I borrowed from his bookmarked web sites. Sometimes I would stick out my tongue just before the climactic moment and he would try to deposit his cum there. We usually did this with David standing up. Other times I would position my face maybe half a foot or a foot away. This was a mixed success because a smaller percentage made it to my mouth, which is where he wanted it to go. And then there were times when I positioned myself even farther away and his cum would land who knows where. I know these things were very close to being actual oral sex but since I was making him cum with my hand and not with my mouth, that difference made it acceptable to me.

Right around this same time, David started focusing on how I was dressed when we were having our little sexcapades. I discovered from our conversations that he was stimulated by having me wear certain kinds of under garments, especially the old-fashioned kind. Instead of my bathrobe, he liked me to come to him wearing regular clothes. Often I would dress the same as I would before going to work. It was all very kinky but we both loved the erotic charge it gave us.

After we had talked for a while, I would invite him to undress me but I only allowed him to go part way. I always kept my lower half covered. When he took off my skirt or dress or pant suit, I usually had on very skimpy and alluring under things. I never wore a thong for him but I did wear lace trimmed, high-cut panties from time to time. He also liked thigh high stockings. For a change of pace, one time I modeled old style nylons for him, held up with a garter belt. He liked those even better. To finish things off, for shoes he loved to have me wear high-heeled pumps. I kept those, my panties and my stockings on even after he had removed the rest of my clothes.

One time when I was dressed this way, I turned around to pick up a book that I had accidentally knocked off his desk. As I was doing that, David shamelessly confessed to me what he was looking at. My legs were straight and I was bent over at the waist with my butt pointed towards him.

"Geeeze mom. . . dad should have taken a picture of you from this angle. You look so. . . sexy. I love the way your panties stretch across. . . between your legs back there." Even though he expressed it imprecisely, obviously he was referring to the fabric covering his favorite opening in my body.

"You'd like to see under there, wouldn't you." I teased him as I looked over my shoulder in his direction.

Our undressing procedure became a kind of sex all by itself, right from the time he unbuttoned the top button on my blouse until he unzipped my skirt and dropped it to the floor. Every once in a while he would get carried away and place his hand on my pussy, holding it through the silk of my panties and pressing one of his middle fingers inward. While he was doing this, he would embrace me with his other arm, holding his body against mine and nuzzling my hair with his nose. As marvelous as this felt to me, it always ended the same way.

"No darling. . . you know that's not a good idea," I would whisper to him.

Even though it was contrary to what I was saying, I would press my hips against his hand in a couple of little thrusts, giving him the impression that what he was doing was irresistible to me, which in fact it was. Regardless, he knew this was something he was not supposed to be doing so he would stop. Occasionally he was naughty this way but by and large he always respected my wishes.

It was now maybe 4 or 5 months since the first time I had come to David's room and with a few exceptions, things continued pretty much the same way for the next several months. One night was decidedly out of the ordinary because of something David had been pestering me about repeatedly. Our discussion about it usually went something like this:

"How come you get to see me naked all the time but I never get to see you, except for those?" he would ask, indicating my breasts.

"There's all kinds of reasons, David. For one thing women are more modest. For another, I don't want this to get out of hand. Mothers just don't show themselves to their sons that way, now do they."

After a while, though, I got tired of him needling me about it so I caved in and agreed to give him what he wanted. I made it clear that this was going to happen only once.

As it happened, I had a CD with some old instrumental music on it. One cut featured the kind of saxophone music you would expect to hear while buxom girls with tassels glued to their nipples paraded across the stage. I thought this would create an appropriate atmosphere while I treated David to my strip-tease so I brought it with me and had him put his player on "Repeat" while I performed. I explained the idea behind what I was doing and he seemed to like it.

Before I got started, I made him promise to stay on his bed while he watched me from across the room. I made sure that I was wearing all of his favorite undergarments and as I undressed, I exaggerated my movements the same way a stripper in a sleazy night club would. The whole time I was doing this, David was getting into the humor of the situation, mock yelling out inappropriate comments to me as if he was a drunk in the audience.

"Let your hair down you sexy thing," and I did what he asked, taking it down from being pinned up.

"Yeah, that's right," he went on.

Then it was, "hey girlie, show me your tits," so I slowly unbuttoned my blouse, shrugged it off my shoulders, twirled it on my finger and tossed it aside.

"Come on baby, take off that bra."

"Oooooh, nice. Look at that. . . your nips are sticking out."

"Shake those boobs for me," and I bent forward and wiggled them with my hands.

"Aaalll right, you've got nice ones, sweetie!"

"Lift up that skirt. . . higher. . . higher. . ."

"Need help with that zipper? No? Well, take the damn thing off."

"No, no. Leave those nylons on," he said as I started to roll down my thigh-highs.

"Take off those panties instead."

Before I did it, I turned my back to him, hooked my thumbs in the waistband and pushed them down very, very gradually, an inch at a time. When they got to my knees, I let them drop to the floor.

"That's a good girl, now turn around," he suggested.

I put my hands on top of my head and did as he asked. For the first time ever, I was fully exposed to him. I don't keep my pubic hair cropped in a narrow row, the way a lot of women do these days but I do trim it short. I started doing that when I was married to Jim, at his request, and I've kept it that way ever since. For a few seconds I felt self conscious with David being able to see me this way but I got over it quickly.

"Jeeeeeze mom," he said, slipping out of character, "I can't believe it. . . you are one good lookin lady! You know, you're a whole lot more attractive now than you were when dad took those pictures."

"Why thank you. It's nice of you to say so."

"No, really. . . hey. . . remember when you picked up my book off the floor the other day?. . . do that again."

"DAVID!. . . that would be embarrassing," I said.

"Come on. . . who cares. I've just about seen it all anyway. . . go on. . . do it."

"I know what you want to look at, you little devil. That's all you guys think about, isn't it."

I turned my back to him again, put my feet a ways apart, bent over and wrapped my arms around my legs from the inside, grasping the back of my ankles. My hair was loose and hanging down on the floor. David, much to his pleasure, had a bird's eye view of the most personal part of my anatomy. Looking through my legs, I could see him upside-down. He was masturbating like crazy.

As I explained at the beginning of this article, David and I met for our trysts regularly for over a year. Then something happened to change that: he lost his virginity. He started having sex with Kristy and our nightly encounters tapered off. They never stopped completely though. I was disappointed but I was very happy for him. Plus, I was relieved to know that what we had been doing hadn't messed up his natural sex life. Eventually David moved out to share an apartment with Kristy and things between us slowed down even more.

After David stopped living with me, I became reacquainted with a fellow named Ken who had been a good friend in college. Eventually Ken and I got married. David and Kristy eventually split up and after that David met and married a sweet girl named Jessica. I assumed that things between us had come to an end.

Several months later, David stopped by to visit me, one of the many times he had done that since we stopped living together. I was still in our original home because, even though Ken and I were dating, we hadn't yet married. When David got there, we shared a bit of small talk and then he said something I never expected to hear.

"You know mom, this will probably surprise you but I can't get it out of my mind. . . what we used to do in my bedroom. . . ," there was a long pause and then he continued, "I want to do it again."

Hearing him say that stunned me.

"Oh my God, honey. Are you sure? I didn't think. . ."

"The truth is, I've never had it like that with anyone else. What we used to do just turns me on more. . . I can't help it. It just does," he stammered, looking at the floor as he talked. I could tell he was feeling very emotional and having a hard time talking.

"I can't believe you're saying this. . . do you know how wrong that would be? You're married to Jessica."

"Yeah, but it was also wrong before Jessica and I got married. That never stopped us, did it."

"No. . . I guess it didn't," I replied, "You know, I don't think she'd be too thrilled if we did that and she found out about it."

"Well, I won't tell her if you don't," he said.

"Is there something wrong with the sex you have with her?"

"Not really. . . but there's more to it than that. It's because you're my mother. That's what makes it exciting. . . ten times more exciting. Sex with her is OK but what we used to do is something else. It's like two different things. I can't explain it."

"That's OK sweetheart, you don't have to explain it to me. . . I shouldn't tell you this but I know what you're talking about. . . I know EXACTLY what you're talking about because that's the way it is with me too."

"Listen mom. . . no more foolin around. . . I'm so hot for you I can't stand it. . . you know we're gonna do it."

I could feel the excitement tightening my chest. I knew he was right. I hadn't felt this way in a long, long time and thought I'd never feel it again.

"I can't believe this," was all I could reply.

"This time we're going to do something different, though."

"Oh God. . . what's that?"

"You're gonna take me in your mouth," he said.

"OH, no. I can't do that and. . ."

"Yes you can, you already have. . . you did it New Year's Eve and you're going to do it now. I've wanted you to do that for so long that. . . you're just gonna. I'm not taking no for an answer."

His eyes locked on mine. The silence and the tension was unbearable. I knew I couldn't talk him out of it so I didn't say anything. We just looked at each other and I felt this strange calm come over me. I felt like I was floating. Sex with David wasn't over after all. I waited to see what would happen next and when he stood up from his chair and moved in front of where I was sitting, I got my answer.

"Unbutton em," he said and I knew he meant the buttons closing the waist and the fly of his jeans.

Comically, it was difficult to do because he was already erect, making them hard to squeeze through their holes. When I dropped his pants down around his ankles, he pulled down his boxer shorts and there it was, as big and beautiful as ever, sticking out from below hisT-shirt. I raised my arm intending to take hold of his erection but he pushed my hand away before I got there.

He tried to bring me closer by pulling me forward in my chair but it was evident that this wasn't going to work because my knees and the chair seat got in the way so he stepped back and kept moving me towards him. I fell to my knees by his feet. I hoped he couldn't tell but I was starting to shake.

He put his hands on the sides of my head and guided himself towards my lips. I started by kissing the head several times and licking all around it. I had to keep it in place by holding the shaft with my hand. After a while I surrounded the end with my lips and brushed the tip of my tongue back and forth across the opening. And then he started pushing deeper.

Fortunately, he didn't try to force himself in too far before pulling back. As he increased the speed of his thrusts, he moved my head back and forth with his hands. I dropped my hand and kept both of them down at my side so he could dictate the tempo. I looked up at him to be sure I was doing what he wanted. After a while, he pulled himself almost all the way out.

"Suck on it," he said and I did, letting the head pop in and out of my lips. With all the saliva, it made a slurping noise each time it came out. I did this over and over again.

"Harder," he commanded and I took it in a little farther and started sucking more vigorously.

I cupped his scrotum in my hand, squeezing his balls very gently.

"It's been more that a week," he breathed huskily, "this is gonna be a big one."

I grasped the side of his hips and moved my head as fast as I could.

"Here it comes, mom. . ."

His cum burst into my mouth so strongly it made me choke and sputter. I had to pull back. As I tried to clear my throat, I instinctively closed my eyes and I could feel more cum landing on my forehead and in my hair.

"Are you OK?" David asked me.

"Yeah I'm fine," I said, coughing, "It went down the wrong way is all. . . Jeeeze David, I must be a real mess."

He reached over my head and gave me the kitchen towel lying behind me on the counter. I wiped myself off as best I could. He sank down beside me and helped me with the towel, wiping off places I had missed and giving me little kisses on the side of my head at the same time. Remembering David's stamina, I knew this was only the beginning.

"Would you like to come up to my room?" I asked.

"Sure."

"Well, pull up your pants then," and as we stood up, he did, fastening only the top button.

I took him by the hand and led him up the stairs. As we reached the top, David reached around my arm and clasped my breast through my blouse. I turned around to face him and we kissed. We kissed very passionately with our lips all over each other, with our mouths open and the tips of our tongues dancing together. We were making love.

As soon as I closed the door to my bedroom, we frantically undressed ourselves. He took off everything he was wearing and I took off everything but my slip and my panties. I knelt in front of him, intending to take him in my mouth again, the same as I had downstairs, but he moved away, grabbed the covers on my bed and with a sweep of his arm, pulled them off on the floor, leaving nothing but the bottom sheet. I remember that I felt a wave of panic sweep over me because I was afraid that he was intending for us to have sex and I was feeling helpless to stop him.

He took my arm and pulled us down on the bed together. I ended up on my back with David beside me and for a long time we kissed, bringing our lips together briefly and then separating a few inches, looking into each other's eyes as we did. After we repeated this many times, David pulled away and got up on his knees.

"I know what you want, mom," he said and slid his hand under my slip as he said it.

He slipped his fingers between my legs and ever so slowly moved his hand higher, lightly squeezing my thigh along the way. I wanted to stop him but at the same time I wanted him to continue. The way our eyes were locked together made words impossible. He got closer and closer and closer and then he was there.

"You're very wet, " he said.

He glided his hand lightly over the fabric of my panties for a while and then started pressing with his fingers. He definitely knew what he was doing. Even with material in the way, he went right to the magic spot. Resisting him was out of the question. He moved his fingers against me repeatedly and I could feel the first stirrings, making my thigh muscles and groin muscles tense towards each other and then relax, tense and relax, over and over. My anticipation was enormous.

"Does that feel good, mom?"

I closed my eyes half way, clamped my teeth over my lower lip and nodded.

"I can't believe you're doing this," I said.

There was no turning back. I raised my knees, placed my feet flat on the bed and spread my legs apart. I was totally open to him. His fingers continued their rhythm, pressing against me.

"You want me to do it to you, don't you," he said and I nodded again, more enthusiastically this time.

"Tell me."

"Please David. . . make me cum. . . I want you to. . . I've wanted you to for so long."

I raised my hips higher, uncontrollably flexing them back and forth against his hand. I was getting closer and closer.

"That's it. . . that's it. . . aaaaah. . . OOOOOH," and I was cumming.

He kept it going for a short period of time then stopped moving his fingers. Just like that it was over. It was like a splash of cold water in the face. I had wanted it to go on and on.

He lay down beside me. His head was resting on his hand, the length of his forearm off the bed, and his face was no more than a few inches from mine.

"David. . . pleeeeese honey. . ."

His other hand had never left my panties and thankfully he started rubbing me again, just the way he had been before he stopped. I was sooooo happy.

I closed my eyes as my consciousness drifted off and I waited for it to happen again. He had just gotten started and in one rapid motion he raised his hand above the waistband of my panties and slip and slid his fingers underneath. Before I could react, his fingers were inside of me. I opened my eyes and started to say something but he put his other hand over my mouth, signaling me not to. He moved his fingers faster and more forcefully this time and in no time at all, it happened again. My orgasm was explosive.

"UUUUUH. . . UUUUUH. . . OOOOOH GOD DAVID. . ."

I arched my back and I could see his hand under my panties, stretching them outward. Their wetness made his knuckles and the back of his hand transparently visible.

"Do you like that mother?"

"Oh yeeeesssss son. . ."

He started alternating between rubbing my clitoris and entering me with several fingers bunched together. Somehow he was touching a second magic spot, deep inside. I'd never felt anything like it before. It was transcendent. His timing, changing from one way to the other, couldn't have been better. I had climax after climax, each one more intense than the last. Finally, I couldn't take any more.

"OOOOOH, that's it. . . stop. . . STOP. . .," I begged, my voice making a high pitched, almost crying sound.

As David took his hand away, I was quietly whimpering.

"UMMMMM. . . UMMmmm. . . ummmmm. . . "

I lay there for a while just breathing, trying to catch my breath. As I came to my senses, I looked over at David and one by one, he was putting the ends of his wet fingers in his mouth and pulling them out through his lips.

I was almost afraid to hear the answer but I asked, "do you like how I taste?"

"Of course I do. . . I love everything about you. . . You taste like my mother."

David could say the most wonderful things sometimes. That's one I'll remember always. Word for word.

"It's never happened to me like this before," I said, running my fingers through his hair, "You've given me the best sex I've ever had," and it was true. I wasn't exaggerating.

"I've never been this hot before either. . . you make me crazy, mom. . . Do you know how many times I've wanted to rip off your clothes and spread your legs and put my thing inside of you? Looking at your tight little ass makes me nuts. . . that's all I can think about when I see you.

"Remember years ago when you used to come kiss me goodnight after I went to bed? You'd kiss me on top of my head?. . . sometimes I'd pretend to be asleep but I wasn't. You never had anything on under your nightgown. When you bent over to kiss me, I looked down the neck and I could see everything. . . your tits, your pussy. . . everything."

"Oh my. . . I didn't know I was doing that. . . honest I didn't."

"You got me so I'd jerk off every night. The very first time I did it I was thinking about you. The first time ever."

"Gosh David, I don't know what to say."

There was a long break in the conversation while David leaned over and kissed my breasts and sucked on my nipples. Sex was obviously still on the front burner for him. Eventually he licked his way up my neck and whispered in my ear.

"Do you want me to take off your panties?"

Even though he didn't say it explicitly, I knew immediately this was David's polite way of saying that he wanted to fuck me and at the same time asking my permission. To this day I can't believe I had the will power to give him the answer I did.

"No, no. . . don't. "

The one thing that made this answer even possible was that a few minutes before he had given me the best orgasm I'd ever had. Nothing we could have done could possibly have been better. Nevertheless, without even asking, he could have pulled down my panties, knelt between my legs and entered me and I wouldn't have done one single thing to stop him. To get him away from what he was thinking, I turned the tables.

"Your thing looks like it needs attention. . . do you want me to kiss it again?" I asked.

He nodded in the affirmative, "Uh huh."

"Turn towards me a little."

I was so grateful I would have given him anything he wanted so I got on my knees, stroked the lower half of his cock and moved my head up and down on the top half. My hair hung down and covered what I was doing. Immediately he brushed some off to each side so he could watch. Amazingly, it didn't take long to happen, evidently because he was still as excited as I was. As I felt his spurts hit the back of my throat, once again transcendence was my reward. I felt a kind of ecstasy that's impossible to describe.

The second he was done, David grabbed my head, pulled me to him and kissed me. My mouth was still wet with his cum because I had only swallowed part of it. This happened so fast that before I could focus, we were kissing with open mouths. I'm sure his cum got mixed with our saliva and passed back and forth between us. I had never done anything like that with anyone.

When we finally broke apart, I swiveled around, snuggled my back into his arms and we cuddled like spoons. He reached his arm around my waist and gently held my breast. As I stared off into space, my mind a total blank, I could feel his erection slowly soften as it rested against my backside. Even though it was the middle of the afternoon, in a matter of minutes I fell asleep. He got out of bed sometime later but I was oblivious. When I awoke, he was gone. He had put the blankets over me and lying by my head there was a flower he had taken from an arrangement in the living room.

Of everything that happened, the most amazing thing to me is that I got more pleasure from David's hand than I ever had from full fledged sex with other men, including his dad. WAY more. Obviously, David being my son has something to do with it but I think the main reason is that sometime after his first experiences with his girlfriend Kristy, somewhere David learned a lot about how to please a woman. As the reader will recall, the first time David touched Kristy, he didn't have a clue. I have no idea how he learned what he did and I never asked. I doubt if it was from one of his girlfriends or from Jessica because most likely they were just as inexperienced as he was. Maybe it was because of another one of those countless wonders of the web. Regardless of how he figured it out, having a lover who knows what David knows is something that most women would 'kill for'.

As this is being written, it's roughly eight months after the momentous encounter I've just described. In the intervening time, nothing similar has transpired. Perhaps the reason for that can best be explained by my recollection of the phone conversation I had with David the next day. He placed the call and I recognized his cell phone number on the ID as I answered.

"Hello."

"Hi mom, it's me."

"Hello David. How are you sweetheart?"

"Oh, not too bad," he said and for several minutes we talked about problems he was having with a new job that he had started the month before. After a while, however, the subject switched to the inevitable. He was the first to dip his toe in the water.

"You were amazing yesterday," he said.

"You were pretty amazing yourself."

"I can't stop thinking about what we did. . . I want to see you again as soon as we can," he went on.

"Listen, honey, you know you can see me anytime you want. . . but not that way."

"What'd ya mean?"

"I mean we can't do that anymore. . . we have to bring it to a stop."

"WHAT??? What are you talking about?. . . I thought you had a good time."

"Oh, I did sweetheart. . . that's the best it's ever been for me. . . I'm serious. . . but that's not it. You know as well as I do, if we get together like that again. . . what's going to happen."

"We didn't do it yesterday, did we?" he replied, "I was good. I didn't try to force you or anything."

"No you didn't and I appreciate that more than you'll ever know but the problem is I just can't resist you anymore." There was a long pause. I waited for David to say something but he didn't, so I continued.

"Let me ask you something. If we ever. . . you know. . . went all the way, would that bother you?"

"Of course not. . . why would it bother me?"

"That's what I thought. I knew that's how you'd feel. See, you and me think about this differently. I want to have sex with you as much as you do, probably more. . . but we just can't. It wouldn't be right. If we did it once, we'd be doing it all the time and some day, some how, someone would find out and then where would we be? It just can't happen."

"But mom, maybe it's not a good idea for most people but everyone's not the same."

"That doesn't make any difference. Among other things, it's against the law. People think it's. . . I don't know. . . evil. Listen, David, you've got to promise me something. Ken and I are going to be getting married pretty soon. I couldn't marry him if we were doing that. It just wouldn't be right. Also, it's not that long since you and Jessica got married." There was a long pause. The silence, as they say, was deafening.

"I'm not saying that there's no possibility it will ever happen," I continued, "anything's possible. . . but for now you've got to promise me that if we're ever alone together, you won't try to get me to. . ."

"I don't want to promise you that, mom."

"David, I'm not kidding. . . you HAVE to promise, you absolutely have to. . . or else I've got to stay away from you when you're. . . you know, by yourself," I pleaded.

"OK, OK. If that's the way you feel about it. . . I promise."

"Thank you, sweetheart. That means a lot to me."

There was a long pause and then he went on, "There is one problem, though, and I can't do anything about it."

"What'd ya mean?" I asked.

"Well, right now… all I'm doing is talking to you on the phone. . . and I've got this monstrous hard-on," he said and we both laughed.

"Oh, my. . . I sure hope you're not where anyone can see you."

"Nawwwww. . . I'm in my car. . . on the freeway," and we laughed again.

"OK, sweetie, I gotta run. Ken's coming over for dinner and I've got stuff on the stove. Oh, and thanks for the flower. . . that was sooooo romantic."

"That's because I love you. . . bye-bye mom."

"I love you too, David. Bye." and we hung up.

Not only do I love David as my son but, as inappropriate as it is, I also love him romantically. Letting him do whatever he wants with my "tight little ass", as he puts it, would be heavenly. It would also be heavenly if that's all there was to it. Sadly, that's not the case. If I ever get sexually involved with him again, I'm certain it will involve intercourse. Maybe we've crossed the line already, so doing that wouldn't make any difference. Or maybe it would. I just don't know. I think about it several times every single day.

I'm hoping that writing this for all you good readers will clear my mind so I can spend my time thinking about other things. So far, the writing part hasn't done that. Maybe having it published here and knowing that people are reading it, will. I hope that's what happens. Time will tell.

I'm sure many of you are irritated that my involvement with David didn't result in us sleeping together, sexually speaking. Writing about that, had it happened, would have undoubtedly made this account more entertaining. All I can say is, life doesn't always work out the way you think it's going to.

As a final note let me say that writing this confession has been a real pleasure for me, both literally and figuratively. Truth be told, while working on it I developed a new skill: I became quite proficient at typing with one hand while my other hand was otherwise occupied, if you get my drift. (lol)

Ellen