I Love My Son

The story does not contain sexual activity involving a person under 18.

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Roy and I got married 23 years ago. At the time, I was a naïve 22 year old secretary at a law firm. Roy was a young, ambitious lawyer in the same company. It was love at first sight. He claimed he was mesmerized by my beauty, and I was smitten by his blue eyes, genuine smile, smart ass jokes, and contagious enthusiasm. Our chemistry was flawless, and it was apparent to both of us that we were headed to a blissful married life.

We both liked short trips around the state, strolling in nearby parks, and sex. A lot of sex. Roy was a wonderful sex partner, and I gave myself to all his wishes: From fucking me on the living room carpet, to the kitchen table, and taking my nude photos. Twice he even shot videos of us going at it. For the first one, he made me kneel before him, beg to suck his raging pole, and after taking close ups of my lips working his tool, he ended up titfucking me and spraying my neck and face with his slimy cum. In the second video, Roy was behind me, pounding me doggy style, and toward the end, he fingered my anus, making me orgasm powerfully. I recall warning him that if thieves break into our house and find these photos and videos, they would blackmail us. He chuckled, "Honey, I hid them in a box in the attic. No burglar will go there."

Our son, Martin, was born almost a year after our wedding. Roy suggested I quit my job and raise our son. Since Roy was already making good money, I agreed and never worked outside the house since.

Martin was my treasure: While his father spent long hours trying to impress the bosses and become a partner, I invested every moment with my baby boy. In the first 2 years of his life, Martin suffered from multiple health problems, from repetitive ear infections to food allergies, and I was there to drive him to the doctor and later care for him at home.

When Martin entered first grade, my day became easier, and I used the free hours to go to a health club 3 times a week, do yoga every Wednesday, and meet a few girlfriends I kept in touch with since our high school days. All was well, and soon Roy and I debated whether we wanted another child. Neither of us was sure about it, but we agreed to think about it.

One evening, Roy came home and seemed anxious. I asked what the issue was, and he said that there was 'a glitch' in one of the cases he was involved in, and the partners wished to discuss it with him. He was already late for the meeting, so he grabbed a sandwich and rushed out. I still remember telling him, "Drive safely." It was the last time I saw him alive. Two hours later, 2 policemen knocked on the front door and notified me that his Mercedes had crashed into a heavy truck, which attempted to bypass another vehicle in a no passing zone. He died instantly.

To say I was devastated was an underestimation. My knight and shining armor, my husband, my lover, was gone... I was 31, with a 7 year old child, no husband, and no job. The issue was not financial: Roy earned a lot and invested it smartly, and he also had excellent life insurance. The mourning period lasted for months and years. I could still talk to my girlfriends, but it wasn't the same.

Three years later, my friends suggested I go online to find a new mate. Initially, I was reluctant and had no idea how to choose among the many faces and stories. With the help of my BFF, Emma, I tried my luck with 3 different guys, who looked good, and what they wrote suggested they were serious. Well, I learned the hard way that people lie a lot online. The guys exaggerated their height, weight, job status, financial situation, and one of them was even married... After getting disappointed with the 3rd candidate, I decided no more. If fate lets me meet somebody suitable in the future, I might give it another try, but no more online dating.

...

Fast forward 14 years.

I was 45 years old. Martin was finishing his junior year in college and intended to spend the summer vacation mostly at home. I realized it would be his last vacation before completing college and moving on. The good news: Martin will be around for 2-3 months.

I decided it was time to look for an easy job to fill my time. I haven't done anything like that since before Martin was born, and back then, Roy arranged all our files and kept them in a small closet in the attic. Rather than retrieve the documents myself, I chose to wait for Martin to come home and do it for me.

I was so happy he was coming soon, and I reminisced about our life together. Unlike some of my friends' children, Martin was as good as they get: Since childhood, he hadn't suffered from a severe disease, he never got into trouble at school, and he had a pleasant demeanor. If there was something I wished to change, if I could, it was his somewhat introverted personality. Not once he was willing to talk about his relations with girls. I respected his wishes, but was sorry he didn't share more of his life with me. He was now 6'2", 190 pounds, handsome like his father was, and a good athlete. From experience I knew that for a guy like him, it was easy to find a pretty girl...

Martin arrived on a scorching hot Friday evening. He refused my kiss and blurted, "Mom, I am sweaty and stinky. Let me shower first."

I grinned, "Honey, I am so happy to see you that nothing would have bothered me. I placed a new towel for you on the door handle."

He came out of the bathroom wearing shorts and nothing else. I ogled his body, admiring my fully grown son. He was tall, handsome, and muscular. His hair was longer than I liked, but it was his choice. I hugged and kissed him, and he smiled embarrassingly, "Mom, you behave as if you haven't seen me in years. We zoom every weekend, and I was home a month ago."

"I know, but I missed you so much..."

"Is there anything to eat in this house? I am so hungry, I can devour a whole cow!"

I giggled. Young guys were always hungry for something: To eat, to drink, to play, and... to sex."

As we ate, I said, "Before I forget, remind me later to ask you to do something for me. Now tell me about your last days in school."

Martin laughed, "It was a hoot. Nobody cared about studies. Everybody was planning their summer vacation: Traveling, gaming, or looking for chicks."

"And what about you? I haven't heard from you about a girlfriend lately."

"That's because my relationship with Lidia ended 2 months ago." He joked, "So for the time being, YOU are the one."

I grinned, "I am not in your league, but I'll accept the challenge. What does it entail?"

"Each time we go to a restaurant or to see a movie, you'll dress up nicely, so I can be proud of you."

I chuckled, "With all due respect, it doesn't matter WHAT I wear, I'll still look too old for you."

He kissed my cheek, "Mom, these days, cougars are hot items. And you are a real MILF!"

"Despite the innuendo, I know you meant it as a compliment, so thank you, honey. As a reward, you can tell me what dish you like best, and, on the weekend, I'll make it for you."

After dinner, Martin said he promised to visit Leon, whom he hasn't seen in ages.

"OK, so I'll go chat with Lisa. But please, before you go, climb the attic, open the small closet, and bring me the manila envelope that says ORIGINAL DOCUMENTS."

"I will, but why do you keep them there?"

"Dad thought that if a burglar entered the house, or there was a flood, the attic would be the safest place to hide important stuff. Since your father's death, I have had no need for these documents, until now. I think I'd like to go back to work part time."

"OK. I'll do it."

During the meal, Lisa called, asking me to come as soon as possible. I knew her; she wouldn't ask if it wasn't a real issue. I apologized to Martin, left him to eat by himself, and drove to Lisa. When I arrived at her house, she opened the door and I saw blood on her blouse.

"What happened?" I asked.

"I was a klutz and cut my right hand trying to open a package. I couldn't do much with my left, so I hoped you'd help."

I cleaned her wound and thought it was a deep cut. I mumbled, "Lisa darling, I am no nurse, but you may need stitches and a tetanus injection. To be on the safe side, let me take you to an urgent care."

I placed a tight dressing on the deep cut and drove 2 blocks to the nearest urgent care place. The doctor checked it and learned it was done using a new sharp knife. He cleaned it thoroughly, placed 4 Steri-Strips along the cut and asked Lisa when was the last time she got a tetanus injection. She thought for a while and said, "Four years ago, just before our trip to South America."

"In that case, you don't need the injection. Go home and be more careful next time."

It was a relief. The cut will hurt for a couple of days, but no sewing or injection was good news. We returned to her house, and chatted for another hour before heading back home. Martin wasn't home yet, so I went to sleep.

...

The following morning was a sunny day. I assumed Martin would sleep late, so I wore shorts and a T shirt, and went outside to work on the small vegetable garden. I removed the weeds, checked for nasty bugs, and picked several tomatoes. After an hour, I was sweaty. I stood up and was debating whether to go inside and have cold lemonade or continue for another half an hour. Suddenly, from the corner of my eye, I noticed Martin ogling me from the window. I had my sunglasses on, so I doubt he realized I saw him there. I used a tissue to dry my face and chose to continue working for a while. I bent down, checking the growth of other vegetables. It felt good: The cooler wind separated the T shirt from my chest. After like 10 minutes, I sneaked a peek at the window and Martin was still there. I thought of smiling at him, but his face was moving monotonously. I could not see him below the neck, yet my suspicion was he was... playing with himself. I lowered my gaze to the front of my shirt, and as expected, the upper parts of my breasts were exposed and swayed with my every movement. I stood up again and slowly went toward the house.

On the way, I was debating how to approach the subject of what happened. It was unexpected and offensive, yet somewhat funny and even... arousing. This young guy, my son, was getting excited by my 45 year old body! By the time I entered, I still wasn't sure how to deal with the new finding and elected to ignore it. For now.

I shouted from the front door, "Honey, I'll just take a short shower and prepare breakfast for us."

He came to the kitchen wearing his boxer shorts and smiled at me. There was still an impressive tent in front. I stood in the shower with the water pouring on me, thinking about what just happened. After 10 minutes in the bathroom, I chose to ignore the issue. Young guys are full of testosterone, and my pose gave him something to look at. Since he had no available outlet for satisfying his arousal, he jacked off. There was no harm done. And frankly, it was an unspoken compliment to my body...

In the first week at home, Martin was around most of the time, ready to help anytime I needed him. He always was a good boy, but now he was behaving even better. His room was almost always tip-top, he volunteered to cut the lawn, and do all the shopping. I noticed his eyes explored me each time I was wearing something other than my long robe. Well, he lost his girlfriend and wanted to see me as a woman rather than a mother, that was OK. I began wearing thin blouses and skirts around the house.

After several days, the laundry basket was full. Martin's T shirts and shorts were mixed with mine. I went to the laundry room and began separating the clothes. Toward the bottom, I saw the panties I wore until that morning. And they had fresh stains on them! Geez, Martin, you not only used my soiled panties, but ejaculated into them?... Was my son just acting normally, or he was developing an obsession with my body? I was scared to ask him. I liked to feel like an attractive woman by a young guy, but by my son?... I chose not to talk to Martin about it yet. However, I checked the laundry basket every 2 days or so. It became obvious that he continued using my dirty panties for masturbation. If he was aroused by my underwear, why not the clean stuff? Did the odor make him horny?! The thought of it was weird, yet... exciting in a perverted way.

Everything changed the morning Martin went to visit Larry. He said, "Mom, I'll be at his house and back in the afternoon. If you need anything, text me."

This was one of the days I had nothing better to do, so I started cleaning the house. Martin kept his room fairly clean and neat, but I knew he wouldn't clean above the closet, under the bed, turn the mattress, etc. I began in his room. I dusted the curtains and the small carpet by the bed, and then removed the bedding. As I turned the mattress, 3 pictures fell on the floor. I gazed at them, and the blood in my veins froze. These were photos Roy took many years ago. The first one showed me posing in a skimpy bikini on the beach. In the second picture, I was wearing a sheer red baby doll, puckering my lips at my husband. The 3rd photo showed me naked on the bed with my eyes half closed, licking my red lips, my nipples rock hard, and my legs slightly parted, ready for sex...

So this is what everything was about! When Martin went to retrieve my documents from the attic, he must have found the box where Roy left my photos and our videos. The pictures showed me in sexy poses, with many of them before having sex. Did he watch the 2 videos as well? Roy made them using a video camera that he placed on a shelf, and showed us during wild sexual activities... I was stunned and blushed at the thought I'd have to face him about it. I had a few hours to think about how I should confront him about what was happening. I was lightheaded. I could get angry and blame him for prying into my privacy. I could ignore everything and hope for the best until the vacation was over. Or I could gently explain to him that what he was doing was unacceptable, and should have never happened. Having an obsession with any woman was unhealthy, especially in a case that may raise another issue: Incest! The longer I thought about it, I realized that while my mind was busy rationalizing my reaction, my body actually felt good about it. I couldn't comprehend it, but I felt my crotch becoming warm and moist. What the hell?!... Did the prolonged drought I went through since my last sexual encounter make me feel that way? Was I getting horny thinking that my own son jerked while fantasizing about me?

I tried to think logically, 'Valerie, stop your stupid thoughts. What your son was doing was criminal, and your current ideas are dangerous. Snap out of it right now!'

Easier said than done. I recalled my son ogling my tits through the window, and his later hardon. My cunt began leaking... I went to my bedroom, used my Jack Rabbit, and came within 5 minutes. After my climax, I felt ashamed and decided to confront Martin, though in a gentle, non reprimanding way.

...

When Martin returned home, I had on my long pink robe. He was in a good mood, "Mom, we played video games, and I beat Larry again."

"Excellent. When would you like to eat dinner?"

I am too happy to stay home. Let's go to a restaurant. You choose."

"... OK. I prefer Italian."

"Great. I'll call Denis. His father is the chef at Leonardo's. He'll ensure we get a table. Please dress nicely; I want us to make a good impression because Denis said he'd help in the kitchen tonight."

I chuckled, "As you wish, big boy, but on condition you'll wear something appropriate as well."

"Would you mind putting on the red dress you have in your closet?"

I went to my bedroom without answering. Other than checking my private closet, the only way he could have known about it was from the photos Roy took of me many years ago... I tried it on. Since Roy died, I have gained only 3 pounds. The dress still looked very good on me, although it was slightly tighter around my waist and my bigger tits. Wearing any bra underneath would be visible, so I skipped it. However, the ample cleavage scared me. I came out of the bedroom and said, "Honey, I wanted to make you happy and wear what you wished me to, but this will be too much. My breasts are spilling out."

He stood there with his mouth agape, staring unabashedly at my half exposed boobs. I grinned, "Martin, wake up. I'll go change and be ready in 10."

He blurted, "Please, Mom, don't. You look smashing!"

"Darling, I am not 20 anymore. With this dress, every guest in the restaurant will lose his appetite."

"You are nuts. Some men may look at you and be jealous of me going out with the best looking cougar in town. I am sure Denis will be impressed too."

"Are you sure?!"

"Pretty please..."

"OK, but don't complain if every guest starts laughing at us."

Martin's eyes continued focusing on my breasts, as if hypnotized. The front of his pants showed a growing bulge. Damn, my coochie started tingling...

We hardly talked on the way to the restaurant. I got the impression that Martin's eyes alternated between the road and my chest. I muttered, "Sonny, no distraction. Please look at the road." I heard him mumble, "It's tough. You are gorgeous."

As we arrived, the receptionist led us to a corner table near a large window. Martin pulled the chair for me and then sat by my side. Five minutes later, Denis came with our menus. I saw Denis only once before. He looked taller, no longer with pimples, and with longer hair. He smiled at me, "Mrs. Mason, you look even better than before. You are really a MIL..., I meant pretty."

Martin laughed, "I told you. And tonight she is mine. Let's see, what do you recommend?"

Denis attempted unsuccessfully to explain the dishes while frequently ogling my rack. I giggled inside: These hungry boys are a hoot! They see a hint of breasts, and their brain goes kaput...

I ordered minestrone and pasta con vongole, while Martin took osso buco with mashed potatoes. We added a bottle of Barolo red wine.

The food arrived 15 minutes later. Denis showed up several times to ensure we liked everything and we didn't need anything else. When he wasn't near us, he usually stood by the counter, where he had an unobstructed view of my upper body. The meal was delicious, and the wine excellent. Time passed fast, and I was feeling fantastic: Great food, being ogled by 2 young guys, and a few others, including those who were accompanied by other women... I felt desired again, and with my stomach happy, I was in 7th heaven. The wine began affecting my behavior: I laughed a lot, bent forward to whisper things into Martin's ear, and didn't care that his eyes were directed at my cleavage. We finished the hearty meal with spumoni ice cream.

On our way home, I put my hand on his and said, "Honey, thank you for bringing me to this wonderful restaurant. Everything was tasty and I liked it there."

He smiled, "I loved it there. It wasn't just the food. I loved seeing your pretty face and breathtaking figure, as well as watching you enjoy your time."

I smirked, "That's not a way to talk to your mother. The proper way would have been, 'I like the way you dressed and loved to see you enjoy the food."

"Sorry, Mom, but truthfully, the whole evening I felt like we were on a date. You were a stunning woman, and I could not take my eyes off of you."

I chuckled, "I know. Especially the area which is a foot under my face."

He blushed, "Your large chest is amazing... When I went to the bathroom, Denis confided in me he thought you were the most impressive MILF he'd ever seen."

"Do you think so too?"

"May I plead the fifth?"

"No, you cannot!"

"Mom, I don't just think so, I am convinced I am in love with you."

"Cheap talk. I am your mother."

"I know, but I feel toward you more than I should feel toward a mother..."

I must have been under the influence because next, I heard my voice, "Is that the reason you jack off fantasizing about me?"

He lowered his head and stayed mum.

I continued, "Not only you use my soiled panties, but you watch my naked pictures to get off. Am I right?"

He dared not look at me and muttered, "Sorry, but I could not resist..."

Watching him crumble, helpless, beyond apologetic, I could not resist. I hugged him tightly, "That's OK, son. I just wanted you to be straight with me and not do things behind my back."

He smiled bitterly, "You really wish to know the truth? OK, here is the truth." Next, he took my palm and placed it on the front of his pants. His massive erection pressed his zipper, threatening to rip it open.

I left my palm there and murmured, "Honey, it's a problem. You are going to be around for at least 2 more months. What do you think we should do about it?"

He whispered, "I don't know, but if I could, I'd love to have you..."

I stood up, "Martin, this evening, we both drank too much wine. Let's go to sleep. Tomorrow, with our brains able to think clearly, we'll talk it over again." I kissed his cheek and went to my bedroom.

...

I woke up at 7 am with a major headache. I took a Tylenol and showered. An hour later, I felt better. Martin was still in his room, and I thought he would be in bed until late morning. I stood by the sink, made coffee, and prepared an omelet when 2 hands hugged my waist, and Martin muttered in my ear, "The smell of fresh coffee woke me up. From behind, you look beautiful."

I wasn't ready for his touch and direct talk, and I trembled. He whispered, "Don't worry, I am here for you."

Without turning, I asked, "How would you like your eggs?"

"In any way it's easier to make. I just love to watch your behind."

I sighed, "Honey, let's eat before having this discussion, please."

He chuckled, "OK, but I just wanted you to know that after last evening, I feel terrific."

I kept quiet. We ate silently, and when we were done, Martin approached my chair and kissed my cheek. I wasn't sure if it was intentional, but his lips were much closer to mine compared to his prior kisses.

Next, we sat on the sofa in the living room. My heart rate was 120 beats per minute, and I felt dizzy. I was losing control over the situation. I pretended to sound cool and asked Martin, "Now that we are sober, tell me what is going on."

"Mom, it's more than a year now that I felt toward you more than a son should. In college, I was away from you, and you had no idea how I felt. In certain regards, my latest girlfriend reminded me of you: Her hair, her smile, you know what I mean. But I made sure to terminate our relationship before coming back home. The first day here, when I saw you, my heart burst with strong emotions, but I resisted my urge to disclose them. I wanted you more than ever, but had no idea how to approach the subject. The day you asked me to go to the attic, I found your envelope immediately. However, I assumed you never checked the stuff Dad left there, and wanted to see if there was anything else we'd want downstairs. Then I saw the small box in the corner with the note 'PRIVATE' on it. I thought the box contained Dad's awards, medals, baseball glove, and other memorabilia. When I opened it, I saw your pictures. Mom, from the first photo to the last one, I can understand how Dad felt about you. Your face was that of a beauty queen, and your figure absolutely amazing! The following day, I saw a glimpse of you coming out of the bathroom in your underwear. You looked as breath taking as in your 20 year old pictures. I was hooked... Each night, I dreamt about you and me. Yes, I masturbated using your panties. I found the smell intoxicating. And then, when you were out at the health club, I watched the 2 videos. You may think I have a deviant mind, but seeing you and Dad going at it was hotter and more arousing than any porno movie I've ever watched. Do I feel guilty? Yes, I do. Do I regret watching your photos and videos? Not at all. Watching how you and Dad enjoyed having sex told me you were very happy together. So now that everything is on the table, you can admonish me and call me a pervert, but my feelings toward you have grown too much for me to hold back. Yesterday, I might have been tipsy and talked too much, but everything I said was true." Martin looked at my face pleadingly.

During his long speech, I didn't interrupt him, but I felt very warm inside. My son's wish to have all of me was something I suspected for some time, but HEARING him say it out loud shocked me. I attempted to distract him, "First, the photos and videos you watched were done 20 years ago. Both my face and my body are no longer the same. Second, I think you should have these thoughts directed at somebody your age, and definitely not your mother."

"Last night, both of us may have been under the influence, but I wasn't TOTALLY drunk. My impression was that you were not revolted by MY body either."

"Honey, I love you and would not be revolted by your body even if you were ugly, which of course you are not. But be reasonable, we are not the same generation. You like cell phones, social media, and video games, while I like quiet evenings, watching TV, and going to the health club."

"Mom, in the videos I saw a passionate lady enjoying a variety of sexual actions. Aren't you missing it?"

"... for the first 2 years after your Dad died, I missed him, his soft words, his gentle touch, and the wild sex we had. With time, I was able to repress my libido and learned to live without it. Well, not exactly. On occasions when I feel the need, I use an accessory. Of course, it's not the same, but it's safe."

"Mom, hearing you talk about this subject and remembering your pictures arouse me..."

I glanced at his pants. The familiar bulge was there again. I looked into his eyes, "Martin, what would YOU have done if you were in my place?"

"I cannot answer that. If I hated the idea, I'd probably reject it. But if I felt a similar urge, I'd likely give it a try."

I smiled, "Martin darling, there is no 'I'd give it a try' option. Once we crossed the line, we both will know what we did, and our mother-son relationship will never be the same."

He knelt before me and mumbled, "I tried my best until last night, but I can't do it anymore. Being so close to you and not able to touch you the way I want is too much of a torture. I don't think I'll stay here much longer. A few of my friends decided to go on a month long trip to Europe. I'll buy flight tickets and join them."

I grabbed his hands and said, "A 4 weeks travel may be good for you, but don't do it because of me. I love you. However, unlike you, I think if we become intimate, it won't be good for you more than for me. Once you are fed up with me, you will not know how to end it without hurting me."

"Mom, you don't start something with the assumption that one day you'll want to stop it. I love you and want you. Period. If, and that is a big IF, one day WE choose to end our intimacy, I think we can do it nicely. But why is it relevant now?"

"Because you shouldn't start a temporary relationship without thinking forward."

"Among people who got married, about 50% get divorced, so overthinking is like saying that there is a risk when boarding a plane, crossing the street, and eating in a restaurant; thus we should stay at home permanently."

I was cornered, "Honey, you are not fair. If I say NO, you'll leave me."

"I told you: If you definitely hate the idea, just say no. I'll still call you on the phone and zoom once a week, but I'll show up only every 2-3 months."

"... can I think about it for a week?..."

"Yes. It will be a struggle to keep my hands to myself, but I want you too much to give up on you yet."

I stared at his handsome face with tears in my eyes and then went to my bedroom.

...

In the following 2 days, Martin said good morning, ate breakfast, went out, came back for lunch, went out again, returned for dinner, and sat down to watch TV until he went to sleep. The whole time he was at home, he hardly said a couple of words to me. On the 3rd day, I started crying while serving breakfast, "Honey, you are breaking my heart. I have nobody but you, and you behave like a stranger."

He sighed, "Mom, it's not easy for me either. Each time I see you around and know I am not allowed to be closer, it hurts..."

"Can't you be closer like before?"

"It's too hard."

"Can't you kiss my cheek after a meal?"

"I have the urge to kiss your lips..."

"Will you, please, try?"

"It will be more painful for me, but I'll give it a shot."

The next morning, after breakfast, I went to wash the dishes, upset that my son continued to ignore my pleas. But then I felt him standing behind me and placing his large palms on my shoulders. He kissed my neck lightly and mumbled, "Thanks, Mom." He was gone 2 seconds later, but his kiss lingered and made me shiver. It reminded me that his father used to arouse me by kissing my sensitive neck.

Martin had no idea, but his little kiss made me wet in an instant. God, I didn't need it now! This minor gesture woke up my desire for touching, cuddling, and sex... My brain was still insisting it was unacceptable, but my resistance suffered a major blow. I chose to work out extra to drown my unwanted cravings. I spent 2.5 hours in the club and returned home exhausted and achy.

The next morning, my back was stuck. I could hardly move. I stayed in bed until I heard Martin calling me, "Mom, are you home? Are you OK?"

"Sorry, Martin. I exercised too much yesterday. My back has spasms, and it is too sore. I'd rather stay in bed today. Can you make your own breakfast?"

He showed up at my door with a preoccupied expression, "Don't worry about breakfast. Can I help?"

"You can bring me a Motrin tablet from the bathroom with a glass of water."

He did as I asked, and I attempted to raise my upper body. It hurt like hell, and I moaned.

He said, "Mom, lie down and I'll massage your back VERY LIGHTLY. I had the same problem twice before, and a gentle massage was very helpful and soothing."

"Are you sure? I am afraid that your strong hands will cause further damage."

He smiled, "I promise it will be light as a feather, unless you ask me to make it harder."

"Well, OK. Get out for 5 minutes to let me remove my pajama top, and then come back again. You'll find a massage oil in the bathroom cabinet."

When he exited, I tried to remove my top. After several tries, I succeeded, though it was difficult and painful. I lay on my tummy with my bare back exposed to Martin and my hands by my sides.

He entered with a couple of towels and a bottle of avocado oil. I placed my head on a pillow and looked the other way, hiding my anxiety. It took him longer than expected to start. Was he warming his hands? Was he ogling my backside?

When his warm, oily hands first touched my shoulders, I quivered mildly. He started spreading the stuff on my body in a gentle, circular motion. I closed my eyes and imagined being rubbed with sunblock lotion before tanning on a beach. It calmed me. The longer Martin continued, the soothing effect took over me, and I gradually relaxed.

He began moving down on my back, massaging tenderly my achy muscles. It felt good. I recalled Roy doing it to me. Roy loved the opportunities massaging me; he did it in a seductive way that always made me horny, and we ended up having sex.

Martin's hands were rubbing me efficiently, and he didn't seem to try to do anything but help me. However, the memories of his father working my body were enough to wet me down there, and my legs parted slightly. His soft touch on my skin was incredible, and while he was doing my lower back, I heard myself groan a couple of times.

Then he added more oil, came closer to do the farther part of my back. As he moved closer, I felt something hard pressing on my forearm. It was unmistakable: Martin's covered erection touched my hand! My breathing turned faster. My arousal was related to thinking about his father, while Martin's was as a result of touching me and likely fantasizing about more... I didn't say anything.

Martin continued his rub for another 2 minutes, and then I felt his stiff member nudging my hand again. His body stayed in place for a long moment this time, as if hinting it was not accidental. I moaned and felt the blood rushing into my head. His bold move surprised me, but the tender touch and being horny made me vulnerable. I knew I had to stop it, but I was helpless.

Then it happened again. But this time, his raging member didn't retract and gingerly started moving along my forearm. I gasped but was unable to move. Martin's organ slowly slid from my elbow toward my palm. As it reached my palm, it gently rubbed my open palm. I attempted to remain calm and do nothing about it, but next, his hand wrapped my fingers over his hard prick.

I stopped breathing, but was still unable to resist, as his cock began minor bobbing in my closed fist.

He continued massaging my back and bent down, muttering, "That's it, Mom. I love massaging your warm skin. It feels awesome and tempting for more. And having my cock in your hand is even better."

I whined, "Honey, what are you doing to me?"

"I simply show you that both of us can enjoy mutual touch."

For some reason, I did not remove my hand from around his steely prick. Was I out of my mind? Did his gentle touches hypnotize me? I was too dizzy and horny to think straight. I remained mum.

To my surprise, his covered member left my fist while his left hand continued rubbing my back. A moment later, the reason became clear: His right hand enveloped my palm around his prick again, but this time it wasn't covered...

With my last strength, I mumbled, "Martin dear, why?..."

He whispered, "I love you, and feeling your soft hand on my rigid organ is something I fantasized about for a long time."

His thick, veiny member slid easily between my fingers, and to my horror, I realized I began gently rubbing it and caressing the helmet. Martin moaned and muttered, "Good Mommy. I love what you do."

Subsequently, his hands started moving more freely on my back. He smeared more oily stuff on both sides of my back, and it slowly dripped on my sides toward my front. Martin's hands followed the liquid and massaged my sides, moving at a snail's pace toward my side boobs.

I was getting more aroused by the minute. I knew exactly what his plan was, but was unable to stop him. Did I even want to?!...

Eventually, his fingers reached the sides of my breasts. My respiration turned labored. He began gently kneading of my boobs. His hands felt amazing. I lifted my upper body and leaned on my elbows. It gave him free access to my now fully exposed tits. Martin tweaked my sensitive nipples, and I groaned loudly. My backaches have completely disappeared, and my arousal was all that was left on my mind.

Martin must have felt it and slowly turned me around on my back. I kept my eyes closed as his large palms kept working my breasts, making me crazy. My breathing became shallow and I was moaning nonstop, feeling my vagina leaking badly.

Then, Martin used one hand to gingerly turn my face toward him. Soon, his velvety pole met my lips. I tried to resist my temptation, but a moment later, my lips parted, and his spongy head began penetrating my mouth. I kissed and licked it, hearing him mumbling, "Yes, Mom, do it. Your luscious lips feel perfect around my cock."

By now, I was way too deep into my arousal to stop everything. My brain was nowhere to be found, and my hungry oral cavity welcomed his large member in. One of his hands gently pushed my head to take more of him into my mouth while the other one moved from my hard nipple south, caressing my covered cunt. My pelvis countered his gentle touch, and then two of his fingers invaded the pajama bottom and reached for my drenched vulva. I shuddered.

He started fingering me. I was so aroused, that in less than a minute, I was shaking wildly, climaxing violently. In my half conscious state, I felt Martin begin to slowly fuck my face. I loved it and sucked him harder. I had no clue how long it took him, but my mind cleared somewhat when I felt the first jet hit my palate. I swallowed as fast as I could while still under the blissful effects of my orgasm. Gradually, it became a trickle, and then his deflated organ left my mouth.

I continued lying with my eyes closed for like 20 minutes and then opened them. I saw Martin, naked, lying by my side. He gazed at me lovingly, "Mom, you were the best."

I stared at him, unable to express my thoughts. He waited momentarily and then meekly asked, "Is your back better?..."

I was torn inside, and the only thing that came out of my mouth was, "My back is fine, but you know damn well this is not the issue here."

He lowered his gaze and mumbled, "I am sorry. You didn't try to stop me, and I assumed it was OK to continue. Your body was too tempting, and without a clear NO, I just followed my unruly instinct..."

I dressed up slowly, ignoring the oily stuff that still covered my back, went to my bedroom, and closed the door behind me. I was not angry. I wasn't even upset. I was confused. Martin was right. At no point did I attempt to halt his moves. He was aroused, but so was I. The long time without sex made me susceptible to Martin's shenanigans. But he was my son. My loving son! How could I?... I was in shock for more than an hour, trying unsuccessfully to rationalize what just happened. Fortunately, after tossing and turning, I managed to sleep for a few hours.

...

I woke up around 8 am. After freshening up, I went toward the kitchen. Martin's door was open, and he was nowhere to be found. I had no idea where he was and when he'd be back. I drank coffee, and my brain started recounting last evening's events. My thoughts changed from nausea to feeling sorry for blaming Martin to recalling my powerful orgasm. The longer my mind tried to sort out everything, the more I realized that my brain was fighting my body. Yes, my boy was the one who satisfied my body, but he was gentle, never forced me to do anything I didn't want, and more importantly, gave me a wonderful happy ending. Could he have been right saying that we should move from a mother-son relationship to the next level?! The feeling of his magnificent tool in my hand and my mouth made me lick my lips. All of a sudden, I felt the urge to have his naked body by my side again. My brain kept whispering, 'It's not right!' but the whisper faded quickly. Was I ripe for an intimate relationship with Martin? While not yet ready to admit it to myself, I looked for ways to hint to Martin that I was no longer upset at him.

...

My son entered the front door early afternoon. His face was flushed, and he handed me a bouquet of red carnations, "Mom, I apologize. I had no idea what went over me the other day."

I placed my palm on his, "I had time to think about everything. I don't think it was YOUR fault more than mine. I think we were both hungry and tasted the forbidden fruit. The question is what's next..."

He looked at me with puppy eyes, "I know only one thing. I love you and will do what you tell me."

I grinned at him, "Honey, I wish I knew what I wanted. I remember your soft hands, the nice massage, feeling your... excitement, and cumming in a way I haven't felt in a long time."

Martin gave me 'the look', and blurted, "Please Mom, may I kiss you?"

I attempted one last time, "Darling, think about it; I am your mother..."

"I know and I love you more than ever. I just want us to be free of all the stigma of age difference and family relations. My heart is full of tender feelings toward you, and I have an urge to have you in my arms."

"I feel the same, but I dread the consequences."

"What do you mean?"

"What if you later regret? I'll die of shame. The day will come when you decide it is time to look for somebody to marry. What is going to happen to our relations?"

Martin hugged me, lifted my chin, and kissed me deeply, "Mom, you talk too much. I love you and will NEVER hurt you. I cannot predict the future, but whatever happens, I can assure you that I'll do everything in my power so that we'll ALWAYS have a warm relationship."

As he was talking, I felt his penis growing, hardening, and poking my upper abdomen. His apparent arousal was contagious. My cunt started sending warm messages into my brain. All my reluctance vanished, and I pressed my body into my son.

Martin's lips separated mine, and his tongue pierced my mouth, demanding to dance with mine. I caved and let him do as he wished. I felt like a ragdoll in his strong arms: My brain was useless and reacted reflexively to his commands. And then his hand began exploring my body. I let him do it, groaning into his open mouth. Next, his fingers started removing my clothes. I did not object. My mind was on fire, and I was his prisoner, his slave, HIS BODY to do with it whatever he craved.

Soon I was naked with only my slippers on. Martin lifted me in his arms and carried me to my bedroom. He laid me down gently on my back and hurriedly undressed. When he was done, he stood before me with his tumescent pole pointing straight up. I ogled his marvelous member, unable to remove my eyes from it. He smiled, "good Mommy. I'll let you play with it later, but first. I wish to taste you."

Next, he gingerly spread my thighs and dove headfirst in between. When his tongue touched my pussy lips, I jolted. It was an electric jolt that woke me up from my daze. I tried to pull him up and begged, "Martin honey, please move up. Don't do it. PLEASE."

He raised his head and with a stained face grinned, "Too late. Your nectar is delicious, and I love it." Unable to counter his power over me, I surrendered to my fate.

His tongue swirled on my labia, and several times tickled my love button. Despite my wish to remain conscious, one of the times his lips sucked on my clitoris, I lost it. I began shaking and crying uncontrollably, shoving Martin's head further into my soaked cunt. At one point, I felt fingers penetrate my pussy and rubbing my most sensitive part yet. From a distance, I heard myself screaming. I attempted to regain control, but I couldn't. I was under Martin's spell.

After what felt like years, the licking of my genitals stopped and a giant piece of meat invaded my vagina. It was large and my unused-lately pussy struggled to adjust to its immense size. Then, without warning, the organ started drilling into me at a fast rate, making me reach another peak. I was flying on waves of indescribable pleasure, wanting it to last forever. Indeed, the unrelenting assault on my cunt lasted a long time, in which I was floating toward heaven. As my brain was debating whether I was still barely alive or died and in paradise, I felt the gigantic cock spasming in my used pussy and erupting deep inside me. I had no idea if I was having a prolonged status orgasm or my hundredth climax, but I saw stars!

As Martin's pecker deflated, he rolled to my side and gradually my own climax diminished. I was woozy, sweaty, and tired, but all paled compared to the great pleasure between my legs. I remained motionless for a while, feeling Martin's fingers tenderly trailing my body.

When I opened my eyes, my son was ogling my face lovingly. He whispered, "I love you so much. My only hope is that I didn't hurt you too much..."

I hugged him, nestled my head in his hairy chest and murmured, "No darling. You were perfect. I love you very much too. But I am sweaty like a pig. I urgently need a shower."

He smiled, "May I help doing your back?"

"NO! We both know what will happen if you are naked there with me. Be a good boy and stay here. I'll be back shortly."

I wobbled to the bathroom, started the warm water, and stood under it for like 10 minutes, thinking about our sexual encounter. I missed good sex, and this was as good as it gets. My son, my own little baby, fucked me and made me feel a desired woman again. What an irony... And what now? I already crossed the red line of incest. As my mind was pontificating, my tortured pussy began leaking again. God, what was happening to me?!...

I dried quickly, attempting to think about something else. I called Martin from the bathroom, "Honey, what would you like to eat?

I heard his voice, "YOU!..."

I came out, covered with my soft, large towel. He gave me one look and remarked smilingly, "Your face is reddish. You look gorgeous. YOU are the only thing I wish to eat now."

I had tears in my eyes, "You just ate me. Don't you want something else to eat?"

"Why would I? After lapping your honey, why would I eat food that undoubtedly tastes inferior?"

(To be continued)