Non-Maternal Instincts

Non-Maternal Instincts

by

Unbearable_Desires

Smoothing down the fabric of my skirt, I opened my office door and poked my head around the corner.

"Mrs. Waters?" I called out to the waiting room.

A striking blonde woman of about 40 turned to me before rising to her feet. She could easily have been a model, tastefully dressed as she was in a well-fitting light grey suit, stylish red designer heels, and white silk blouse. A pair of thin black spectacles framed her ice blue eyes. She appeared to be in good physical shape with a trim figure and a nicely toned ass, and I couldn't help but notice her large bust.

The eyes of everyone in the waiting room turned to follow her.

"Please come in. I hope you weren't waiting too long."

With a faint smile, she stepped past me before sitting in front of my desk. I closed the door behind her.

"Thank you for seeing me, Dr. Martinez. Please, call me Faye," she said, her voice soft and sultry.

"Of course, Faye. How can I help you today?" I asked, consciously focusing my full attention on the woman.

Although her makeup was flawless, I noticed her eyes appeared tired and her light demeanor felt strained.

She tried to smile once more, but almost immediately tears began to well up.

"Well!... Gosh, I don't know where to start!" She wrung her hands, attempting a wan, embarrassed smile.

Her eyes raced around the room, a reflection of her chaotic mind, perhaps.

"Take your time." I leaned back in my chair and watched as she blinked quickly, struggling to contain her emotions.

Almost a minute passed before she found any words. I held the silence, allowing her the space to continue as she chose.

Finally, she sighed heavily.

"I have a son. Julian." Her eyes shone with pride as she spoke. "He's a LOVELY boy, so, so smart!... and tall... and handsome! EVERYONE says he could be a model!..."

"... I see..."

"But... well... lately he's been... well... I guess what someone like you might call... 'acting out'."

"Oh? In what way?" I asked carefully.

"Well... It's... I mean... It's... I... don't know how to..." she began. Her lip quivered, and all at once the woman started to sob, her shoulders heaving as the raw emotion overwhelmed her.

Instinctively I felt pity towards her.

Many therapists try to comfort their clients when they're experiencing such distress. Maybe offer a tissue.

I never subscribed to that.

I wait.

I watch.

I let them recover their own control. Reconstruct. I let them reach for the tissue themselves. I let them put the pieces back together, without my help. They need to know that as a therapist, I am not there to fix their problems. I am not there to tell them everything will be fine, or that the world is a shiny, happy place.

But I am there.

Witnessing. Supporting. Sometimes nudging. Facilitating their resolution to their own issues, in an open, non-judgmental environment.

I believe it is a rare gift to allow someone to cry fully in emotional safety. Or to rage. Or even to explore fantasies.

The goal is complete honesty with oneself. And for better or worse, the cost of honesty is often pain.

"Oh my!..." Faye said, dabbing her eyes with a tissue. "I'm so sorry!"

"Never apologize for crying in a therapist's office," I replied with a smile. "You're usually paying for the privilege."

It took a moment for her to catch my meaning, but when she did, she laughed good-naturedly. She looked ten years younger. She was a rare beauty indeed, bearing a passing resemblance to Cate Blanchett.

"Thank you." She blushed. "Well... Julian has been... acting out..." She sighed deeply. "... sexually."

"Sexually?" I echoed.

She nodded, her lips tightly pursed.

"I see. When you say 'sexually', do you mean, masturbating?" I asked, trying to be as sensitive as I could.

"No, no, I mean... I DID walk in on him once... when he was..." Her eyes widened and it appeared she almost shuddered at the memory. "... but... I think that was just bad luck."

I waited.

"Well..." she began, "... the thing is... he's a good-looking boy. VERY good looking. MY friends even joke about hooking up with him! He's tall, handsome. Athletic. And he gets a lot of interest from women. Everywhere we go. It's almost funny!"

"Ok."

"And sometimes... well... he brings them back to our house."

"What age is he?" I asked.

"18."

"And you don't think he should be sexually acti-"

"No, no, no! It's not that..." she interrupted in a rush. With another deep sigh, she looked out of my office window. Not looking at me directly seemed to allow her to talk more freely.

"He brings women back... and sleeps with them. Recently... I think... it's been in... in my bed," her voice trailed off to barely above a whisper.

"In... your bed?" I asked, momentarily stunned.

Holy shit.

I had to admit, it was a first.

Faye simply nodded, still staring out the window.

"How do you know? That it happens in your bed, I mean."

She scoffed then. "Well!... At first, it was little things. The duvet was creased. Or there was a stain here or there. I'm usually pretty good at keeping on top of changing sheets, etc. But... one day... I came home and heard noises. They were being quite..." she cleared her throat "... loud."

Faye exhaled before brushing a stray golden hair behind her ear.

"I thought he had just left his door open. I was going to yell in to close it. But when I got to the top of the stairs, I realized... it wasn't coming from his room."

Again I didn't speak.

"I found him... them... on my bed. It was... God, I can't believe I'm actually saying this... it was the mother of one of his school friends!"

"Jesus!" I was stunned.

"Yeah," she continued glumly. "I threatened her, told her to get the fuck out of my house, and that if she was lucky, I wouldn't call her husband... or son."

I digested this information as best as I could, my mind reeling.

Obviously, some kind of maternal fetish or fixation on the part of her son. But to act it out on her bed? I wondered... did he WANT to get caught?

"What time of day was this? Did he know you'd be home?"

"No, no. Well... I don't think so," she said, her tone unsure. "I was planning on going shopping but I felt a little too tired after my tennis lesson at the country club."

"I see... And what does he have to say about it?" I asked.

"Nothing. Just that he's sorry and it won't happen again. But... in the last few weeks... I've noticed more creases on the bed. And 2 days ago, I came home, and there was a woman's hair on my pillow. Brunette. And there were some... stains."

Holy shit!

"I see."

Neither of us spoke for a few moments.

"Hmm. How can I help you, Faye?" I asked gently.

"Well... I was hoping you could... could you talk to him?" she answered, her eyes pleading. "I don't know what to do. All I want for him is a normal life, but if he's... I don't know... 'sick'... I don't think I can help! I keep wondering whether maybe I was too affectionate with him growing up. And I'm sure I spoiled him after my marriage ended..."

"Honestly... this is not my area of expertise. It might be better if you see a therapist who deals specifically with this kind of... thing." I avoided using the word 'fetish' at the last second. She caught the self-censorship and winced slightly. "I mean... it's not uncommon for people to have... taboo fantasies. But we all need to be able to control how thoughts manifest in our behavior."

Good save, I thought.

"Yes, exactly!" she nodded enthusiastically. "If it's all the same, I'd like you to be the one to talk to him. You seem to understand, and we've tried a couple of therapists already. It went ok at the start, but Julian didn't seem to click with any of them. But you... you're easy to talk to. I'm sure you two would make a connection!"

It was my turn to look briefly out the window.

Fuck...

... was this a bad idea?

I didn't feel completely comfortable dealing with a potentially serious fetish. What if he wanted more than to be caught? What if he wanted to act out his fantasy, and being caught was just the first step? If he had psychopathic tendencies, he could be dangerous. To his Mom. Or to me.

I couldn't say anything for sure without talking to the young man, but I felt reluctant.

Dammit, you're a professional, I thought. How can I be an example to clients if I let fear rule me?

I hadn't spent so many years in university and thousands of hours of therapy with clients just to run away from a young man who was acting in a depraved manner... even if it was pretty fucked up.

My eyes returned to Faye Waters, her beautiful face staring at me expectantly, a seed of hope behind her large, light blue eyes.

I wanted to sigh, but held it in.

... Fuck it.

"Tell you what. Let's do one session, see how we get on. If it doesn't work out, I can refer you to a colleague."

"Oh my, that'd be wonderful! Thank you SO SO much, Doctor!"

I raised my hands, trying to temper her enthusiasm.

"I can't promise anything, Faye. I'll meet with Julian, and we'll see what happens. I have a 2pm slot free tomorrow, if that suits... And one more thing. Please... call me Audrey."

________________________

When Julian Waters stepped into my office, I must admit, for a second I thought it was the wrong client, even though he looked exactly as his mother described him.

And I mean exactly.

Naturally I had assumed she was exaggerating about her own son's qualities out of natural maternal pride.

But no.

He was tall, fit... and frankly devastatingly handsome. Blonde hair, light blue eyes, a strong chin, dimples, and perfectly even white teeth. Beyond handsome. Gorgeous. A genetic lottery winner. He moved with a controlled self-assuredness that younger guys rarely have. His gaze in particular had that unnerving quality that some pale blue eyes possess. Mesmerizing. The kind of eyes Alaskan deer see in their final moments.

Honestly, I felt a kind of physical shock at just encountering him.

I felt a little unsteady as I crossed my office to greet him. His strong hand extended to shake mine.

He smiled when our hands touched, his eyelids flaring ever-so-slightly.

From my training, I knew that reaction was possibly an unconscious sign of attraction. I confess, I felt a guilty satisfaction at the thought.

At 39, I was confident that I was still an attractive woman. Since my teens, I had never been short of male attention, including from numerous clients. I often felt their eyes on my curvy ass, my full lips, and natural D cup breasts. With my thick black glasses, silky black hair, and soft pouty lips, I resembled some of the more popular Latina MILF pornstars... or at least that's what my husband liked to tell me after a few beers.

I would deny it to the grave, but I did get a certain kick out of my teenage sons' friends lingering gazes.

Now it was Julian Waters' eyes upon me, and I felt that same thrill... though noticeably more intensely.

Having only had 2 boyfriends, one of whom I went on to marry, I had never slept with a white man. In my family, it had always been frowned upon to date anyone who wasn't Hispanic. Of course I had crushes here or there, but the idea of actually being fucked by a white guy had always seemed taboo to me.

"Julian, very nice to meet you. I'm Audrey," I managed to say without betraying my sudden nerves. My hand felt tiny in his grip.

I'm about the same age as his mother, I realized abruptly.

"You too, Audrey," he said evenly, his voice deep and rich.

This is the boy who fucked his friend's mother in his own mother's bed, I had to remind myself.

Looks have nothing to do with morality, I thought. Stay in control, you're a professional.

His smile didn't fully reach his eyes. It reminded me of a politician or a movie star, like a trick he'd practiced to perfection, one designed for easy charm.

"Please sit down," I motioned to the couch beside him.

Julian took four long strides, before sitting in the leather armchair in front of the couch.

My armchair.

The table beside it had my notebook on top. It was pretty obvious it was where the therapist sat.

... Was he testing me?

"Oh, I'm sorry," I said politely, "That's my chair."

"Oh, my bad!" he replied, surprised... or at least acting as if he was. There was a glint of something in his eye as he rose and moved to sit on the couch.

Little shit.

Handsome as he was, I didn't appreciate being undermined in my own office.

"No problem," I continued coolly as I sat down. "Just to let you know, everything you say here is confidential. I will only break that if I think you're a danger to yourself... or to someone else." I paused, allowing the warning to sink in. "You can say whatever you want here, I try to be 100 percent honest and open... That's the standard preamble done!... So!... As you may know, I spoke with your mother yesterday..."

He sat still, perfectly relaxed, one arm resting lazily on the arm of the couch, his eyes scanning me.

I left a gap for him to interject, to try to explain himself, to say why he had repeatedly slept with women on his mother's bed... but he just let it pass, apparently unbothered.

Most clients can't bear any amount of silence, at least not initially. They fear the other person will interpret it negatively, or begin to feel anxious, and so they jump in to fill the lull with anything they can think of. My college professor called it 'rescuing the conversation'.

Once you see it, you can't unsee it.

Julian had no such discomfort.

Admittedly, it was mildly unsettling to see such self-confidence in an 18 year old man, perfectly content to let me float an implied accusation without feeling the need to defend himself.

I cleared my throat.

"... She told me she found you... and a woman... in her bed." I finished. The words hung between us for a few moments.

"Yeah... " He idly scratched the stubble on his chin. My eyes drifted to his masculine jawline and briefly to the contraction of his strong forearm muscle before returning to his face. "What can I say?" he continued, vaguely dismissively. His eyes left mine, and began to wander around the room, taking in the objects adorning my office and the books lining my shelves. "Just something she wanted to try. Who knows? I guess maybe her and my Mom don't get along or something. Maybe that's why."

"So... it wasn't your idea?" I asked, slightly puzzled.

"Nah. That'd be weird. She basically dragged me to my Mom's bed. Didn't really have time to object. Heat of the moment, you know how it is..." His lip curled into a half grin. This time, his eyes smiled too.

I didn't buy it.

"Was that the first time?"

"First time we fucked?" he replied instantly, his unblinking eyes holding mine.

You can tell a lot about a client by the first time they swear in front of you. Is it casual, or reserved for special occasions? Is it in the first session, or the tenth? Is it to emphasize a point, or as seasoning for some joke, or just completely absent-minded?

For Julian, I got the distinct impression it was a subtle test.

I had a feeling he was already enjoying this just a little too much.

Clearing my throat, I clarified, "In your mother's bed."

"With her, yeah." Still he didn't blink, his face impassive.

Another lure.

"... But not with other women?" I asked. I licked my lips unconsciously. Without checking, I knew my pulse was high.

"No, no. Definitely not the first time." His ghost of a smile seemed mocking to me.

He waited.

I kept my tone neutral. "And you didn't suggest it to any of those either?"

"Nah... Guess it's a turn on for a lot of women." His eyes dropped to my lips for a few seconds before returning to my eyes. Again he didn't blink.

... What a little asshole!

I didn't speak for a few seconds, mulling over my next words carefully.

Finally, I said softly, "Hmm. I don't believe you Julian."

His brow furrowed.

"... Excuse me?" he said, his eyes momentarily opening wider. The edge of his lip curled, almost imperceptibly.

"I said I don't believe you."

Now... I thought, let's see how you deal with that, you wannabe motherfucker!

His expression changed slowly. Gradually a broad grin formed and he sat up straight, his shoulders square, his attention firmly on me now.

"Hmm. Interesting... You're the first one to say that," he said, almost sounding pleased. "Wasn't sure you would actually be honest with me. The others talked about being open and straightforward, but it was all bullshit. Or they were just too dumb. You're right. It WAS my idea, every time. And..." he chuckled, "... not one of them objected."

A ghost of a breath escaped my lips.

... Holy shit..

I had the surreal feeling I was hearing a serial killer's confession for the first time.

"It was your idea to... have sex... in your mother's bed?" I asked, taken aback by the sudden change in the young man. It was like speaking to a different person.

"Yeah." His pale eyes seemed to glow as he spoke, his excitement palpable.

"... Why?"

He laughed.

"Why do you think, Doctor?"

Little shit likes to play with his food, I thought.

I hesitated. My professor's words echoed in my ear, if in doubt, go with your gut!

"Because it's a turn-on for you." I offered.

He nodded, still smiling.

"What about it turns you on?" I continued.

"What do YOU think turns me on about it?"

Irritation rose within me once more. "I'm not here to have both sides of a conversation, Julian."

"Alright, fair enough..." He sat back, drumming his fingers on the arm of the couch. "It turns me on fucking on my Mom's bed because I'm not supposed to. I know my Mom would hate it. Does hate it. And because I can make women do it, even though they know it's sick." He laughed once more. "It's because I imagine what it would be like to fuck my Mom while I'm fucking them. And..." his eyes shone as he spoke, "... they KNOW that's EXACTLY what I'm doing!"

He sounded almost triumphant.

This time I believed every word.

I felt a stirring between my legs at the implication of what he was saying. This wasn't a case of one woman indulging a young man's fantasy. It was multiple women, acquiescing to his depravity.

... Did they enjoy it as much as he did?

My mouth was dry. My hand trembled as I reached for the glass of water beside me, to the amusement of Julian. His gaze appeared to miss nothing.

"How many?" I asked.

"Women? Fuck... who knows? Twelve. Fifteen, maybe."

FIFTEEN!?! Oh my fucking gracious!

I couldn't help but blink rapidly at the brutal honesty of his answers. It was unnerving. A part of me wanted to run for the door. Again, I was taken aback by the brazen way he spoke. He was without fear. No doubt his good looks afforded him the luxury of saying whatever he wanted without too many negative consequences.

But it was more than that.

He wasn't the first client who revelled in the freedom to say whatever they wanted. But none had so quickly sought to shock me.

What really bothered me was... I wasn't even sure he WAS trying to shock me. It felt like this was who he naturally was.

"I see." I said, almost to myself. Unbalanced, I found I didn't have a follow up question. My thoughts churned as I tried to process this new information.

He waited, watching, weighing me up, curious to see where I would go next.

"Did you... want to get caught?" I asked, the question arising suddenly in my mind.

"... Honestly?"

I nodded.

"Honestly... I'm not sure," he said, thoughtfully, his eyes staring into the distance. "I didn't know she'd be home but I knew it was a risk... and I took it. Don't know why but I fucking LOVE taking risks. Makes me feel... I don't know... alive!"

Jesus!...

For a moment, I felt like he was inside my mind, unearthing the creeping boredom I felt with my own sex life.

I paused to consider what he had said.

"So... yes? You wanted to get caught?"

He chuckled, this time his eyes glowed with mirth. "Yeah, I didn't plan for it but... I would have liked it." He paused, his brow furrowing briefly. "No, that's not right. I would have fucking loved it."

I almost shuddered when he said that.

It was one thing talking about Julian with his mother yesterday in the third person. I didn't have a mental image of him then. It was purely abstract. I had seen it through the lens of societal standards. Mother plus son in any sexual context equals sick. Depraved.

Just plain wrong.

It was a simple formulation.

Now, however, I had a very clear image of Julian, on a bed, his strong, fit body pressed against an older woman, as his gorgeous mother ascended the stairs, moments away from a salacious discovery. I couldn't quite picture who he might be fucking... but my subconscious filled in the blanks.

A woman his mother's age.

One he was attracted to.

A scene appeared in my mind of myself lying underneath Julian on his mother's soft bed, my hands clawing his back, writhing like a slut while his mother stepped into view.

... Fuuuuck!

My pussy tingled, and my nipples felt hard.

With some difficulty, I shook the thought from my mind.

Control yourself, Audrey.

There was something wrong with this boy.

I didn't mean in a psychological sense, though certainly that too. I meant there was something immoral, amoral, about this young man. Something was missing. Shame, perhaps. Fear, almost certainly.

A sense of decency.

In a way, I almost admired how he spoke so openly... though it scared me too. He was a mirror to the hidden world every person carries around, the one we fear someone else will see, the one we would also most desperately like the right person to explore. He didn't seem to feel that fear. He openly invited those women to his shadowland, knowing they would go with him. Willingly.

Gladly.

I could imagine how that appealed to those women. A gorgeous, daring partner whose own kinks were upfront and free.

A woman could let loose with that kind of man.

The heat between my legs grew.

It was troubling to consider the disarming power flawless looks could command. The corruption it invited.

Or maybe those women were just as immoral as he is.

What does that say about me?

"Is it sick to have a Mommy fetish?" he asked suddenly, his brow creasing once more. His tone seemed genuinely curious, and oddly innocent.

"It's..." I paused, not sure how to answer. A part of me wanted to say 'Yeah, it is sick, you dirty little fuck!' Instead I said, "... well... it's what we would consider a 'sexual aberration'."

"Meaning abnormal."

I shrugged. "Well, yes."

He smiled.

I had no idea what he was thinking. It unsettled me as a therapist. Reading a client is a cornerstone of the job. With Julian, his good looks seemed to act as camouflage. My mind couldn't move past them to discern what he was feeling.

"You're different," he said thoughtfully. "The others tried to be my friend, or make me open up about what they thought must be wrong with me. One asked if I had been abused." His body shook with genuine laughter. "Fucking idiot."

"So... what do YOU think caused this... fixation?" I asked.

I felt slightly more relaxed. All the cards were on the table now.

He laughed once more. He was enjoying discussing this subject, apparently something that he had never truly been able to voice before.

"I mean... have you seen my Mom?" he asked, his eyes mischievous.

"Yes."

"So you know. She's fucking HOT! Don't know what else there needs to be. Whatever shame or disgust I'm supposed to feel at the thought of fucking her just isn't there in me. No big deal, the way I see it. Just a crossed wire somewhere. Doesn't feel weird... not to me, at least." He paused, and shook his head. "So fucking funny... people are born gay, born trans, born whatever... but you are not allowed to just be born a fucking degenerate pervert. Has to be someone's fault. Or trauma. Has to be a neat and tidy solution. Nothing a bit of reprogramming or pills can't fix! Society is full of shit, you ask me."

This time his smile felt a little forced.

He wasn't getting away that easy.

I decided to take a risk.

"And... how do you think your mother felt, knowing her son would do... that... on her bed? It's one thing saying you're born the way you are. It's another thing altogether to act it out."

His smile faded and he didn't speak for some time.

"Yeah, guess you're right about that." He looked out the window, his eyes distant. "As hot as it was... I don't want to hurt her... She's a great mom." He looked down at his hands. "I know I shouldn't have done it." He paused. "I DID try to stop. But afterwards I just kept thinking about it. About her. It was like... I don't know. The more I tried to stop, the more my dreams and thoughts all seemed to be about her. When I tried focusing on other women, I would find myself talking to women who reminded me of her in some way. Blonde. Or with big tits." I shifted slightly in my chair as he spoke, his admission at once captivating and, if I'm honest, arousing. I wondered guiltily if my tits would turn him on. "And then, I'd get her back to my house, to my Mom's bed." He sighed. "It was fun but now... she can't even look me in the eye."

What must it be like to have your own mother unable to meet your gaze, afraid of your desire?

His fingers gently caressed the back of one hand before switching to the other. A nervous habit?

I allowed the silence as the young man seemed to access this deep pain. After a minute, I looked at the clock on the wall.

"Time is almost up, Julian." I tapped my pen against the chair arm as I processed the session.

I looked down at the notepad on my lap. With some embarrassment, I noticed the page was completely blank. That had never happened before.

It had been a strange meeting, for sure. We had overcome the initial tests well, and I felt that he had begun to trust me. I didn't sense danger from the young man. Perhaps the fact that his looks clouded my judgment revealed how he experienced the world. Perhaps... in a strange way... his attractiveness prevented other people from truly seeing him as a thinking, feeling being. By default, he was objectified. It would be natural for a young man to flee into hedonistic pleasures if that was what he felt the world reduced him to. It was just a theory, but what kind of doctor would I be if I threw in the towel after one round?

Looking at his self-comforting caresses, I felt some pity towards the handsome young man.

Was I really going to do this?

... Fuck it.

"So... will I see you at the same time next week?" I asked.

Julian looked up at me, his blue eyes once more unreadable.

I felt another electric shiver move down my spine.

________________________

That night I woke suddenly, my head raising off the pillow as I inhaled sharply. A light sweat had formed upon my brow. My pussy tingled and my nipples were hard. I seemed to have had some erotic dream I couldn't quite recall.

My husband Raul lay beside me, his breath deep and steady.

In vain, I tried to remember what the dream had been about, but the memory eluded me.

Shit!...

My panties felt damp.

I couldn't even remember the last horny dream I had.

I sure as shit wasn't going to waste this one.

Quietly, I pushed down my underwear before dropping them off the side of the bed. Rolling over, I snuggled into my husband. His breathing didn't change as I slid my arm around him. After a few moments, I let my hand travel slowly down his body before resting on his cock. I began to caress his dick on the outside of his boxers. Raul's breathing quickened as I felt him swell. When he was almost erect, I wrapped my hand around his shaft and gently pumped him.

Within a few strokes, he was fully erect. Raul groaned, a low guttural sound. I loved making him moan.

Carefully I pulled his cock free from his boxers and pushed the duvet off him. I looked down as I worked him, the outside street lamp providing just enough light to see the outline of my husband's fat dick. It had been too long since we had fucked.

Shifting around, I rubbed my ass against him as he slowly came to. Without a word, he turned towards me, my hand guiding him. His tool felt so good sliding inside me. We both exhaled together, our pleasure seeming to synchronise. His hand pawed at my tit from behind, roughly squeezing and tweaking my nipple. His lips kissed my neck and I felt light headed. I bit my lip, enjoying my husband's familiar touch.

Though pleasurable, it was slightly awkward fucking in that position so after a minute, I rolled over. My face was sideways on the pillow, my ass sticking up for him. With a grunt, Raul lifted himself up before positioning himself behind me. His dick was already coated with my juices as he slid into my snatch once more.

Raul grabbed my hips and pulled me back onto his meat. I gripped the pillow tightly, before moaning into it. I wanted to be loud but didn't want our sons to hear us.

Something about that thought stirred a half memory of the dream I had just had.

I couldn't quite grasp it, although I desperately wanted to remember what had caused me to wake in such a state. Raul's thrusts brought my attention back to the present, and I gave up trying to recall the fantasy.

Panting and the sounds of intense fucking filled the room. My husband railed me deep and hard in the darkness.

I was getting close to cumming when he leaned down to my ear and whispered, "You want my cum, Mami?"

Mami!

My eyes flew open, and in an instant the memory of the erotic dream flooded my senses.

Julian!

In my dream he had been fucking me on his mother's bed, both of us completely surrendering to the obscene act. I had let him suck my tits while I stroked his blonde hair, his white cock buried inside me. I knew he was going to cum in me, and it hadn't occurred to me that he shouldn't.

My pussy drooled, eager for the salacious scene to manifest.

As my husband fucked me hard, I came like a shameless whore, my pussy squirting all over my bed as I moaned and writhed, Raul's strong hands pinning my wrists to the sheets.

As I drifted back to sleep a few minutes later, completely satisfied, a half smile on my face, I thought once more of Julian... and his mother.

Damn... I thought, this Mommy shit is getting to me.

________________________

Nervously I looked at the clock. 1:59.

He's probably in the waiting room, I thought. Waiting to come inside.

My pussy was already warm just knowing I would see Julian again. My nipples felt hard, and I tried not to acknowledge the fact that I had chosen this white blouse and thin bra to make my nipples more noticeable.

Christ... this is dangerous. What am I doing?

Even having such thoughts was grounds enough for me to refer him to another therapist.

But I hadn't.

The clock showed 2pm.

Taking a deep breath, I opened the door to the waiting room. Julian was there, Faye sitting beside him. I was once more struck by how gorgeous both were, flawless specimens of humanity.

A strange thought occurred to me...

I'd fuck either one of them...

I'd fuck them both.

I smiled and gave a slight nod to Faye.

"Hi Julian."

He rose and followed me into my office before sitting on the couch once more.

"So... how has your week been?" I asked coolly as I settled into my chair.

"Not bad, I guess." This time he didn't hold my gaze for more than a few seconds.

"I see."

I didn't.

We chatted for a while about school, and his hopes for the future. College, a career in business. As we spoke, he seemed slightly distant compared to the previous week.

I could sense that something was up.

"Are you sure everything is fine, Julian? You seem a little... preoccupied."

"Well... no, I guess. To be honest... I did it again." he admitted, finally.

"You mean... you had sex on your Mom's bed again?" I asked, my mouth suddenly dry.

This time he held steady eye contact.

"Yes."

Fuck!

"Hmm. With who?" I asked. My tone felt almost accusatory, like a jealous partner.

"... One of my Mom's friends."

Holy fuck!

Her FRIEND!!!...

... fucked her SON!!!

... ON HER FUCKING BED!!!

It was too much.

My mind felt like it was imploding. I didn't say anything. I couldn't.

My breathing quickened then and I knew my nipples were rock hard.

"She came over one day, saying something about she had plans to meet my Mom." Julian chuckled. "I knew straight away it was bullshit. They always meet at the club or in a cafe. Pretty sure she's the one my Mom would confide in. Anyway, I invited her in, we start talking. She took off her jacket, and I knew just by the way she was dressed..."

My mouth was dry. My pussy was wet.

"You knew what?" I asked, breathlessly.

"I knew what she was there for. I almost knew what she was thinking. Had this... I don't know. Like an unmistakable feeling that my Mom already told her what had happened. Me fucking on her bed. Just sensed that she knew and... that she liked it. Liked the idea of it. I've always been intuitive about things like that. Usually more right than wrong. Like... couldn't help notice that Daisy had recently dyed her hair. Blonde. And it was cut exactly like my Mom's."

I gulped.

"... And?"

"And... after a few minutes, I asked her if she wanted to wait for my Mom. Told her she'd be back from the country club in a couple of hours. I knew she already knew that. She said 'sure'."

He didn't speak, but I felt his eyes on me. Reading me.

"Go on," I said. He didn't know it, but I would have paid him for the end of the story. My pussy was aching to be touched.

He shrugged slightly.

"I took a risk. Asked her if she wanted to go upstairs. She said ok. We didn't kiss, or even touch. She just followed me upstairs. When we got there, I just stood there, waiting."

"You just waited?"

"Yeah... I wanted to see what she would do." He smiled then, seeming to relish the memory. "She started to strip, right there, and walked to my Mom's room. That was when I knew for sure."

My mouth was almost too dry to speak.

"You knew what?"

"That my Mom had told her about me wanting to fuck on her bed. That she knew everything. And that she wanted it too." His eyes seemed distant as he spoke, as he vividly re-lived the moment. "It was intense. I got so fucking hard."

I glanced down at his lap and saw his cock stiffening in his jeans as he spoke, and inhaled sharply.

... Holy fucking shit!

It looked fucking MASSIVE!

Oh my God...

I almost felt panicked. I vaguely knew my mouth was open. My pussy was drenched.

I didn't know how much more I could take.

I was losing myself. My professional persona was falling away, overpowered by my shameless lust.

My thoughts were wicked, and they came to me at lightning speed.

I wanted to touch myself as we spoke. I wanted to show him my tits, my pussy, my ass. Whatever he wanted.

I wanted to be his fantasy.

Whoever he wanted.

His Mom.

I was exactly like those sluts he fucked. I empathized with every one of them. I was barely hanging on to the veneer of decency I had.

"So..." I somehow managed to say, "... the two of you... fucked." I felt a tremor in my pussy as I said the word. I normally didn't swear with clients but I allowed myself this one naughty indulgence.

He looked at me once more. His big white cock stayed hard.

I thought I saw it twitch.

OhGodohGodohGod.

"Yeah... we fucked on my Mom's bed for an hour or so."

I could hardly breathe as I listened, my fevered imagination unleashed.

It was me again, this time leading him to his Mom's bed as I stripped. My pussy drooled for him, in my fantasy and in real life.

"Did you... feel bad? Fucking her... on your Mom's bed?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper now. I knew what answer I was hoping he'd give. If I'm honest, it felt incredibly erotic asking him sexual questions while his mother sat outside in the waiting room... knowing both of us were turned on.

Christ... I'm actually being paid for this!

"Afterwards, yeah. But at the time? No. Not at all." His eyes fell to my lips, and then my chest. "I couldn't help myself. It was on a plate for me, and I had wanted to fuck Daisy for years. Hard to say no when a hot woman offers you pussy."

I shuddered then, and he knew it.

"Everything ok, Audrey?" he asked, his eyes playful once more. He shifted slightly, but didn't try to hide the massive erection trapped against his thigh.

I gulped once more. "I think... we're just out of time."

He grinned wolfishly.

"Too bad."

I placed my notepad face down, afraid Julian would see the lone pen mark where I had dragged it across the page, as I absentmindedly fantasized about my 18 year old client.

After showing him out, I told my next client that I needed a quick bathroom break before our session. Once I had locked the door, I yanked down my panties, sat on the toilet, and stuck two fingers in my pussy. I was soaked and droplets of my juice splashed against my thighs as I rapidly worked my cunt. I couldn't remember the last time I was so turned on. With my eyes closed, I came hard thinking about the big dick Julian had given to his Mom's friend, squirting all over the tiled floor.

God help me, I thought, I want that too.

________________________

The following week, Julian sat on the couch in my office. I felt there was something different about his demeanor this session, or maybe it was me who was different. The guilt of a doctor tasked with helping a young man who she can't help but continuously fantasize about. I had resolved however not to indulge in thinking about him sexually anymore. Since meeting him, I felt like I was losing the ability... and will... to control myself.

I couldn't risk my marriage, my family, and my career over a silly infatuation.

"Well, Julian. How has the last week been?" I asked.

"Hmm. Pretty good, I think." He looked out the window. He seemed distracted once more.

"Everything alright?"

"I don't know. Just been thinking." He looked back at me and I felt slightly uneasy once more. "I was thinking... about you."

Oh God, oh God, oh God...

My resolve fell at the first hurdle.

I began to entertain wild thoughts of fucking him, right there and then.

His mother, sitting outside oblivious, while I bounced on her son's giant cock... and charged her for the privilege.

"Oh? Thinking about me in what way?"

I suspected by his tone I knew EXACTLY what way he had been thinking about me. The thought would be enough to masturbate over later.

His eyes held mine. There was a subtle intensity there.

"Sexually."

I had to stop myself from gulping.

"I see. Well, I mean, it's probably to be expected... given your... taste in women." I downplayed his admission, as I had with a dozen clients before. This time however, I felt a sense of guilt, and hypocrisy.

He smiled and then laughed softly.

"You mean, MILFs?"

It was my turn to laugh. "Well... I mean, women of a certain age."

It felt kind of odd talking to Julian after I had cum so hard thinking about him. Almost like the lazy, unguarded chat a couple may have after sex.

Had he cum thinking about me?...

"I think... in part... it was because you were... I don't know... nice to me? The REAL me, I mean," he said almost shyly. I saw a gentleness to him that I hadn't noticed before. "You didn't bullshit me."

I started to feel something more than sexual stirring for him. I didn't know what exactly, but... I knew it was risky.

"Understandable. I mean, it's pretty normal. It's a strange environment, the therapy room. How often do people have long conversations with a stranger of the opposite sex? Easy to overstep boundaries."

As a therapist, sometimes you realise mid-sentence that your advice applies equally to yourself.

"Yeah, I guess so." He bit his lip in thought. "Thanks, anyway." His fingers rapped on the arm of his chair. "I... had a talk with my Mom after our session."

"... Oh?"

I hadn't expected that.

"Yeah. Told her the truth. Well, not about Daisy. I mean, she already knew most of it." His brow furrowed. "I told her I'd do better. Try not to blur the lines between fantasy and reality."

Holy shit.

"I see. And how'd she take it?"

He shrugged. "Pretty good, I think. Obviously not a conversation any mother wants to have with her son, but she took it well. She gave me a big hug afterwards..." A glint of mischief flashed in his eyes, "... which didn't help."

The two of us laughed.

"Well, I'm glad to hear it!" I glanced at the clock. "If that's the case... " I had to ask, as much as I didn't want to, "... I'm wondering if you'd like to continue our sessions? It sounds like you've found a way to handle that particular... issue."

He smiled ruefully, and I felt my heart flutter.

"No, no, I think I'm good."

"Ok..." I found I was disappointed almost to the point of distress. I fucking hated the thought of not seeing him again.

Maybe it was for the best. I didn't like the feeling of losing control of my thoughts around him.

"Well, I guess... if that's everything... I'll end by saying best of luck Julian." I said. "It was lovely getting to know you. And if you ever need me for anything, I'm always here." I picked up one of my business cards, wrote my personal cell number on the back, and handed it to him.

With a slight frown, he took it and examined it.

"Actually, Audrey... I do have one last question."

"Sure, what is it?"

His eyes met mine.

"I guess, I'm just curious... Do you find me attractive?"

It was a simple enough question.

Immediately however I felt deep panic rising within me.

How could I admit my desire to a young man half my age? That I fantasized about him multiple times a day? How could I tell him he had unlocked a Mommy fetish in me? The guilty orgasms I had over the past weeks returned to haunt me. My husband's balls had been emptied daily as I thought of the teen hunk sat before me. And his big dick.

Suddenly it was I who needed to fill the silence with something... Anything!

"Well... I mean... you're a teenager." I found myself saying. Not a lie, but far from the whole truth. My heart was racing, my mouth dry once more. "And I'm married... Happily. So. It wouldn't even be... I mean... I'm a professional... so, you know... I couldn't. Even if I did want to..." I was vaguely aware I was rambling, words falling from my mouth in a rush. "I mean, obviously you're a good looking young man... VERY good looking... and I think you'll easily be able to find a girlfriend your own age. Or older, if you want. And besides... I mean... you're young enough to be my..." I stopped suddenly as Julian began to smile.

The word may as well have been said.

For we both heard it.

... son.

Oh God, oh God, oh God!

My cheeks flushed crimson.

The silence felt eternal.

"Hmm." He tried not to smile. "... I see. Well. Thank you again, Audrey."

Without another word, he rose and offered his hand. In shock, I reached out to take it. He gently shook it, turned, and left my office.

Suddenly alone, I tried to breath and recover myself, but couldn't.

As I struggled to listen to my next client confess to having an affair on her husband, I found my thoughts continually returning to Julian again and again.

More than once I had to ask her to repeat herself. She wasn't too impressed.

When the client finally left my office, I leaned back against the door, my emotions in a whirl.

The embarrassment of my last words to Julian caused my cheeks to burn. Even if only he and I ever knew about the interaction, the shame would haunt me for years.

What had this boy done to me?...

________________________

Over the next week, I tried to put Julian out of my mind.

I tried... and failed.

Fantasies of him fucking me invaded my waking thoughts now. I felt haunted by him. I constantly wondered where he was, what he was doing. Who he was doing. I thought about driving by his school, just hoping to see him. Talking to him would have been enough for me. Mentally, I replayed our sessions over and over. I imagined what would have happened if I said something different, or done something different.

What would he have said if I admitted my attraction to him?

My self-respect slipped away. I felt wretched, like a heartsick teenager. Pathetic.

It was torturous.

When I fucked my husband, I thought of Julian. It was worse now because I knew I would not see him again. I didn't have that contact to look forward to.

I imagined what would have happened if I had told him the truth.

Instinctively I knew he would have wanted more.

In fact... I knew without a doubt what he would have wanted.

Me.

And I knew where he would have wanted me.

God help me... I wanted it too.

One Friday afternoon, I checked my phone after a session. A message was waiting for me.

Julian.

My heart skipped a beat.

Oh my God... how I'd wanted to hear from him. My finger shook as I tapped the screen.

Hi Audrey, it's Julian. Hope you're good. Just wanted to say... I've been thinking about you. I don't know if you've been thinking about me. Hope you have

I noticed with some shame that I was becoming aroused just reading his words. I pictured his handsome smile and my legs felt weak.

Licking my lips, I typed a response.

Julian, I'm a professional, and would never cross that boundary with a client. If you need a session, I can see you again or recommend another therapist

It took all my strength to hit send. I desperately hoped he would ask for another session.

Just seeing him would be enough, I told myself.

Moments later, my phone buzzed.

I see. That's a shame. My Mom has gone away for a few days and I have the house all to myself

Holy fucking shit!

I stared at my phone for almost a minute as my mind reeled from this information.

I felt like a teenager being invited over to her boyfriend's house while his folks were away, knowing he would blow my back out for days on end if I wanted.

All I had to do was say yes.

Why the fuck not? a conspiratorial voice inside my head asked.

Another message was delivered to my phone.

An image.

Jesus... what could it be?

I knew what I wanted it to be. I felt light headed and my pussy felt very warm as I tapped the screen. A pair of strong legs stretched out on a bed with one of the largest erections I had ever seen straining against a pair of white boxers.

Oh my fucking gracious!...

I just stared at the picture for a long time, my mouth open, forgetting to breathe.

I knew where he was. On whose bed. And I knew what he wanted.

Me.

There.

... Now.

I swallowed hard.

Rising from my chair, I began to pace around my office. I was borderline manic as my conscience battled my lust.

I'm a married woman! A mother! A respected therapist!

But all I could think about was being fucked by this stud on his mother's bed. And my body yearned for it.

Something inside me silently snapped. My remaining decency, perhaps. My loyalty.

As if controlled by Julian himself, my fingers wrote a quick response.

Just once. Just today.

Then:

What's your address?

As I drove to Mrs. Waters house, I knew I was out of control. I felt neurotic, obsessed. I wanted to give myself to Julian fully, to let him use me.

I wanted to be his fantasy. I knew exactly what he wanted from me, and I only wanted to give it to him.

Red lights took twice as long to turn green. There seemed to be millions of cars driving painfully slow in front of me.

Arriving at 818 Walker Street fifteen minutes later, I vaguely noticed the sweat my hands left on the steering wheel. The house was massive, practically a mansion. I checked my reflection in the mirror. My eyes were wild, lust filled, reckless. I walked to the door, my head bowed, not wanting to be spotted. Shame and desire mixed within me, one stronger than the other. I tried not to think about my husband. My family.

No one will know. No one will find out.

It was just today, I promised myself. A reward to myself for years of faithful love and service.

You lying slut.

When I reached the door, I hesitated, my hand hovering over the handle. Somehow I knew it was unlocked.

As I felt it yield under my hand, I knew my underwear was already soaked. I softly opened it and stepped inside.

The house was silent. I felt like an intruder. I guess I was. I didn't call out, not wanting to ruin the moment. Softly I walked to the large staircase and began to climb. The same stairs Faye had climbed to find her son in her bed. I was tracing her steps.

A picture hung on the wall of Julian, Faye and a rugged, handsome man. Julian's father, I surmised.

Damn, I thought, the father AND son are hot as hell.

When I reached the top of the stairs, I noticed something hanging on the handrail.

It took a moment for my mind to make sense of what I was looking at.

It can't be.

It was a wig.

Cheap.

Gaudy.

Tacky as fuck.

... Blonde.

I could hardly believe the balls on this boy!

Dumbstruck, I simply stared at it for some time. How many women had worn it? Maybe he only gave it to the non-blondes. Or was it specially for me?

I watched my shaking hand reach out to grab it. Placing it on my head, I tucked my hair underneath it as best I could.

What kind of shameless slut does this? I thought.

... Me.

And apparently quite a few others.

All pretence had gone.

I fully knew why I was there. I was there to be fucked. To suck, swallow. Whatever Julian wanted me to.

At the top of the stairs all of the hallway doors were closed except one. I could see a bed inside, the same one in Julian's photo.

... His mother's bed.

As I neared, my heart was pounding. It felt like I was approaching some sacred place. A forbidden temple.

Honestly... I had never felt more thrilled, more alive. The fear in my chest only seemed to turn me on more.

But Julian wasn't there. Instead I found a matching white slip, thong and sexy lace garter, all neatly laid on the bed.

A note said simply: Put these on

Oh my God.

I looked at the clothing once more, and I knew.

They were hers.

Faye's.

The betrayal was complete. My betrayal of my husband, my family. My betrayal of a client. Of my code of ethics.

His betrayal of his own mother. Again.

It felt criminal. But it didn't stop me.

Guilt rose in me as I began to strip. but I was too turned on, too committed by then to stop. Naked, I caught my reflection in the massive mirror opposite the bed. I hoped he would like my tits. I turned to check out my curvy ass too. This time, I was the MILF pornstar, and I couldn't fucking wait to get to work! The blonde wig looked almost ridiculous against my darker latin skin tone... but I didn't give a shit. I knew he'd love it. That was all that mattered.

I donned the slip, my D cup tits not quite filling it out as much as his even bustier mother would, no doubt. I put the thong on, my wet pussy juice immediately soaking the fabric. Finally I slid the white garter up to my mid-thigh.

Lying on the bed, I took my phone and began to type a message to Julian.

I'm ready

No, no, I thought. Not that.

I deleted the message.

Cum to Mommy

I couldn't believe my fantasy was actually about to come true.

Our fantasy.

As I waited, my skin tingled. The anticipation was almost unbearable. All of my senses were on overdrive. The air seemed electric.

I was beyond aroused. My hand hovered over my navel, begging to touch my needy pussy. Somehow I managed to restrain myself.

In that moment, I think just hearing Julian whispering sordid words in my ear would have made me cum.

A door down the corridor opened. As I looked, he appeared suddenly, completely naked, his body even sexier than my imagination could envisage. Young, fit, toned.

And his cock...

Holy fucking shit!

It was huge! Ten or so inches of thick, veiny meat with large balls swinging underneath. I felt like I was in a trance as the giant, erect tool swayed obscenely as he approached. I couldn't quite believe what I was seeing. His hot abs and pecs naturally flexed as he moved. He looked like every girl's wettest dream.

Something about the moment felt almost mythic. Oedipal.

A man with the body of a Greek God (and a centaur's cock) effectively about to fuck his mother.

With a shudder, I realised I had never been so turned on. I felt like the luckiest woman in the world, drunk on erotic anticipation.

My pussy ached for this white man's touch.

He slowly climbed onto the bed as I watched. My legs parted for him on their own. We didn't kiss, his eyes just held mine as he positioned himself above me. I felt like the younger of the two, subservient to his natural dominance. He nuzzled my cheek, and my hand wrapped around his neck. I began to idly stroke his hair.

"Miss me?" I whispered.

With one hand, he gripped his cock and began to rub the swollen head against my pussy, through the thong. I couldn't help but moan. I looked down at his manhood, the veins throbbing with need, aching to get inside me. I had never taken one that size before... and I couldn't wait.

"Guessing we missed each other," he replied, his eyes playful.

"Baby," I purred, giving myself over to the character. "Mommy wants that big cock."

He groaned a little at that. "You need a good fucking, don't you?"

"Mmmmm... yessss!" I hissed.

His eyes dropped down to my chest. "Show me those big fucking titties."

I teased the fabric down, exposing them to him slowly. With some pride, I watched his eyes widen as he leered at me. His gaze returned to mine.

I gently applied pressure to the back of his head, softly forcing him towards my nipple. His lips made contact with my tit and he began to lick and suck. With two strong hands, he groped them, twisting and flicking the nipples.

God, how I had waited for this...

His touch felt so good. My pussy was soaked.

"Mmmmm... good boy," I murmured, stroking the back of his head. I felt his cock swell against my leg. He liked that.

In the mirror, as if in a dream, I saw Julian's strong frame between my legs, his muscular ass clenching as he grinded against me, his head moving as he sucked my nipples, my hand caressing him. Initially I didn't recognise myself. With the blonde wig, at first glance... I looked like his mother.

I shuddered at the taboo thought.

Julian feasted on my tits for a few minutes, both of us enjoying the slow building pleasure. Soon, however, the escalating desire became too much. We both needed more.

Without a word, he raised himself up and stood on the bed. I got on my knees in front of him, his massive tool pointing at my mouth, waiting, expectant.

Time slowed as I reached out to touch him.

His gorgeous cock was finally within my reach. My fingertips caressed it nervously, before my hand wrapped around it. It felt hot to the touch. With one pump, a large drop of precum formed on the head. I moaned deeply at the sight of it, swelling with pride, knowing that I had made him that aroused.

I leaned forward and let my tongue hang out. I ever-so-slowly moved closer to his dick, feeling him harden in my grasp as he desperately waited for my tongue.

Finally, I licked him, the taste of his seed strong in my mouth.

God, what a fucking slut I am for him!

It was his turn to moan loudly.

I began to work his shaft with one hand, his large balls with the other. My tongue explored the length of his cock, licking and sucking his balls, before returning to take the head of his massive dick into my mouth.

"Oh, fuck Mom!" he groaned, looking down as he did on the top of my wig. The word turned me on even more than expected. My tongue flicked along the underside of his cock, encouraging him to picture his own mother eagerly blowing him.

When I sucked him once more, I felt his hand on the back of my head, pulling me deeper. I didn't resist.

In the mirror, I saw his big dick filling my mouth. Moments later, it hit the back of my throat. I tried my best to take him deeper, but couldn't help gagging on his tool. He continued to moan and fuck my mouth as I dragged my nails over his balls.

Seeing my tanned flesh contrasted against his paler skin only heightened my arousal. My family would be so ashamed if they knew what I was doing.

Julian's phone buzzed on the bedside table, and I was surprised when he stepped down from the bed to look at it, his angry cock still rock hard, my saliva dripping off it onto the sheets.

A broad grin formed as he read a message.

"Everything ok?" I asked, afraid our fun would be cut short somehow.

"Yeah, yeah, all good."

He put the phone down, and returned to the bed. He spread my legs and began to strip me, leaving only the garter on. My naked pussy shone, covered in my juices.

"Fuck me, baby." I purred. "I'm all yours."

With a faint smile, he shook his head.

Confused, I watched as his head dropped down between my legs. I didn't care about anything however when I felt his breath on my pussy. His tongue slowly touched my lips, sliding up and down, circling my clit, and repeating the motion. My hands grabbed his beautiful blonde hair and pulled him against my cunt, wanton with need.

He didn't resist, and began to lap at my clit, each contact sending a jolt of pleasure through me.

"OH GOD!" I cried out, my eyes shut tight. The pleasure was almost too much.

I think the fact that I had been in a state of near constant arousal for weeks caused every lick to feel sublime, like a small orgasm.

His oral attention continued, his two hands reaching up to squeeze my tits while he ate me. I writhed in bliss, not quite believing I was on the same bed his mother slept on, the same bed he had fucked some fifteen other women. Fifteen MILFs...

... and I would be sixteen.

I bit my lip at the thought, wrapping one leg around his shoulder, pulling him against me. In the mirror, the image was incredibly erotic. My body was exposed now, Julian's hands full of my tits as he ate me, the garter on my thigh behind his head as I pulled him closer to Mommy's cunt. More and more, I felt like I was an actress increasingly embodying Faye... and I fucking loved it.

"You like how Mommy's pussy tastes?" I teased, my voice husky with lust. "Naughty boy... It's your pussy, Julian." I didn't hesitate before I promised. "Anytime you want."

I meant it.

My pussy was on fire as he continued to satisfy me. I couldn't wait any longer. I wanted to cum with him inside me.

I needed it.

My hands covered his, squeezing them, forcing him to be rougher with my tits.

"Oh God. Fuck me!" I whimpered. "Please!"

He glanced at the clock beside the bed. "... Not yet."

I pouted like a little brat but he just continued teasing my clit. The disappointment ebbed away as he pleasured me. Like a slow building earthquake, time seemed to flow differently, and I felt the warning tremors of a mind-blowing orgasm before it hit.

"OHFUCKOHFUCKOHFUUUUUCK!"

My legs wrapped around his head as he drove me to climax. My hands clutched at the silken sheets, my pussy juice squirting violently again and again into his mouth and on his face, dripping and splashing onto his mother's bed. Julian was momentarily stunned by my explosive orgasm, but continued to lick me almost immediately.

I was somewhere else. Heaven, perhaps. I didn't care about anything, or anyone. I felt no guilt, no shame, just pure lust. A need to cum as hard as I possibly could.

The feeling was so raw and powerful I found myself unable to breathe, unable to move. Frozen in place as divine energy coursed through me. My body spasmed and shook as the heavenly feeling moved through my body in waves, the bliss I had waited for for so long, eventually diminishing to gentle aftershocks.

Julian's hands continued squeezing and teasing my tits.

Gradually I drifted back down to earth. When I looked down, his wolfish grin was looking up at me, his mouth and cheeks shiny from my wetness.

The center of the bed was almost completely soaked.

"Goddamn," he chuckled.

He raised up and kissed me then, our first kiss. His tongue pushed into my mouth with urgency. It was passionate and carnal. My nails raked his back. I tasted myself on him, and I licked my cum from around his lips. He liked that.

It occurred to me that it was awful what we had done, what we were doing, but it felt so fucking good.

When he pulled away, his eyes scanned mine and we both grinned. I stroked his cheek.

"Oh my God, Julian... Oh my fucking gracious..." I panted. "... Now will you fuck Mommy?" I practically begged. I cupped my tits and squeezed them for him, trying to entice him to give me what I needed. "... Please?"

For some reason, he looked once more at the clock.

Biting his lip, he smiled, nodding. "Get on your hands and knees."

I did as he instructed, and he got behind me. From under the pillow, he took a white silk eye sleepmask.

Faye's, no doubt.

Kinky little fucker.

He slid it on my head, over the blonde wig. I didn't resist as my vision was covered by complete darkness. My heavy tits hung down, my nipples grazing the duvet as Julian lined his giant tool up with my pussy. With a sharp slap, Julian struck my bare ass and I yelped. I felt the head of his big tool rub up and down against my dripping wet labia.

He pushed inside slowly, just a couple of inches. My pussy gripped his head, and we both moaned. He withdrew before driving back inside me, a little deeper. He continued this way, slowly giving me more of his massive cock, until I felt him fill me up completely.

With a gasp, my eyes flew open as he filled me. It felt unbelievably good, like my pussy had waited for his giant dick my entire life. The thrill was too much and my thoughts seemed to fall away as pure bliss overwhelmed me. I couldn't remember my name as I received the fucking I had dreamt of since I first fingered my pussy.

As he railed me, Julian's sweat dripped onto my back, his energy and vigour incredibly sexy to me. His balls slapped against me rhythmically, and I loved it. I panted like a bitch in heat, my mouth open. I let my tongue hang out, hoping he could see me in the mirror.

I was his slut.

His Mom.

His Mami.

His Mommy.

His anything the fuck he wanted me to be.

I couldn't quite believe how good he felt inside me. It was a revelation. My body, my pussy was trying to tell me something. That I couldn't go back. This was the kind of fucking I needed... all the time.

I could only pant and whimper as Julian destroyed my pussy, stretching me like no lover had before.

The walls of my pussy vibrated from the rough fucking I was receiving, and after a minute or two of Julian's big dick filling me up, I began to cum harder than I ever had. When it came, my orgasm did not build slowly. It was sudden, intense, and overwhelming. I cried out wildly, a willing whore, any remaining decency evaporated. My body shook as my juices sprayed all over his dick, my cum splashing all over the sheets, soaking them.

I couldn't see it, but I knew I had squirted A LOT.

Julian didn't miss one stroke. He continued to pound my pussy. He groaned in satisfaction, enjoying the power he had over me. Just like all those other women who begged to be fucked silly, right there, in the same spot. The same damp spot. I wondered if any of those had been squirters, or if I was his first?

I buried my face in Faye's pillow, screaming into it as the 18 year old stud fucked me mercilessly.

The intensity was so overpowering I thought I was going to pass out.

He had unlocked the sluttiest part of me. I was his, then. I could not imagine being any other man's. To be fucked like that was too overpowering. I had no will to resist him, I couldn't even if I wanted to.

Something thudded on the floor, but the noise barely registered with me. I heard a loud, sharp gasp and suddenly Julian's thrusts quickened. As he filled me up again and again, fucking me with renewed vigour, my ass and tits bounced wildly, and my head was forced harder into the pillow.

He must be getting close, I thought.

I smiled with pride as I bit my lip, savouring the moment I had dreamt of for weeks.

"Remember when you caught me jerking off, Mom?" he grunted. "First time you saw my cock?"

Holy shit.

"I think about how you looked at my dick, the expression on your face." He continued plowing me like a jackhammer as he confessed his incestuous lust.

Oh God, oh God, oh God!

"All I wanted after that day was to see that look once more. For you to watch me cum."

Holy fucking shit!

"You want it, Mom?"

All my morals went out the window as he fucked me with abandon.

"OH GOD, FUCK ME JULIAN!" I groaned. "GIMME THAT BIG WHITE COCK! CUM IN MOMMY'S CUNT!"

When he buried his tool in me, I felt it violently spasm, over and over. His hot jizz flooded my unprotected pussy.

I purred encouragement. "Mmmmmmmm, oh fuck yesssss! Good boy!"

"Oh my God!..." a familiar female voice gasped softly from the doorway.

No... No...

It couldn't be!

Dread hit me like a freight train.

I ripped off the sleeping mask.

Faye Waters stood before me, shocked by an all too familial scene.

"Au... Audrey!?!?" she almost whispered as recognition struck her.

With Julian's cum dribbling down my thighs, I scrambled off the bed. He didn't move, he just remained where he was, a shit-eating grin on his face. His giant cock was still rock hard, standing proudly, covered in our cum.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry Faye!" I blurted, grabbing my clothes. Before she could say another word, I had run past her and down the stairs, naked except for the wet garter clinging to my thigh. Julian's seed dripped from me onto the expensive carpet.

At the bottom, I pulled on my skirt and blouse. After frantically buttoning my top, I yanked open the front door and with a bowed head, quickly walked barefoot to my car.

________________________

As I drove away, I couldn't believe what a fool I had been.

Tricked by a self-confessed liar!

Stupid, stupid, STUPID!!!

... even if he was the most handsome man I'd ever seen.

I had been manipulated into fucking on another woman's bed. By her own son.

The text Julian had received while I blew him came to my mind. It had probably been Faye, telling him she was on her way home. That was why he had eaten me first. He wanted her to arrive at the climax.

THAT DIRTY LITTLE MOTHERFUCKER!!!

I drove without direction, needing to be as far away from that place as I could get. Cursing to myself, I began to feel sick with worry as I ran through the list of awful consequences that had seemed so unlikely only minutes ago.

If she told my husband, my marriage would be over. My kids would never forgive me. If she reported me, I would be finished professionally.

What would my old college friends and peers think if they found out I fucked an 18 year old client? At the very least, I would never hear from any of them again. I would be a cautionary tale, or worse, a running joke at their high-society soirees.

What a stupid fucking bitch I am!

In the mirror, I caught my reflection. I still had the fucking wig on! Yanking it off, I threw it on the passenger seat.

Dumb dumb dumb!

I pulled over to a gas station, put on my shoes and hurried to the restroom. After washing my face and brushing my hair, I began to apply some makeup, trying to regain some sense of propriety.

What the fuck had I done?...

When I got back into my car, I started to drive home. I hoped I would get there before Raul arrived from work. I needed a hot shower to burn the sin off me. Helpless, I could only pray Faye would not reveal my shameful deeds.

After a few minutes of driving, my phone buzzed.

Oh no...

Faye Waters - Client

No fucking way in hell!

I rejected the call.

As I waited at a red light, my phone buzzed once more.

A voicemail.

Faye Waters... Client.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK!!!

There was no chance I could face talking to the woman after what I'd done, but... I did need to know whether she was going to tell anyone.

I pulled over and played the voicemail.

My heart was beating like a hummingbird's as I heard Faye's soft voice. She sounded different somehow.

"Audrey... I just wanted to say... I'm not angry," she said between rapid breaths. "Don't worry... I won't tell anyone."

Relief washed over me and I exhaled deeply.

Oh thank God!

"It's not really your fault. Ohhhh... Or mine... It's just too hard to resist... isn't it?" She moaned then, and I almost dropped the phone.

...

Holy fucking shit.

No fucking way.

"Julian and I... Oh God... Julian and I... have decided to... well... I don't know how to say it..." She sighed once more, and my eyes went wide. I could hear a low rhythmic thud in the background.

Holy fucking SHIT!!!

Were they?....

"... well... let's just say... we've BOTH given in to our desires... oh God... OH FUCK!!!"

Oh my God!!!

Oh my fucking GRACIOUS!!!

HE WAS ACTUALLY FUCKING HER!!!

HE WAS FUCKING HER WHILE SHE CALLED ME!!!

"It's like he said... oh fuuuck baby... ever since I saw his cock... I couldn't stop thinking about him... oh shit... I tried not to... but then I caught him with those sluts... oh Julian... When I saw him cum inside you... It was too much... Ohhhhhhh... Now he's inside me. Fucking me, filling my pussy... And it feels SO FUCKING GOOD!"

My mouth hung open, my nipples painfully hard once more, and my pussy growing wetter with each word.

"So... if you want... why don't you come back? It could be fuhhh... fuhhh... Ohhh fuuuck! Oh God, Julian!... I think I'm gonna... I'M... I'M CUMMING!!!"

I sat by the side of the road, awestruck, as I listened to Audrey Water's climax on her son's giant dick. Just like I had.

Lucky bitch, I thought.

Gripping the steering wheel with two hands, I listened to the voicemail once more, all the way through. My thoughts raced once more, and once more my self-control waned.

When the message finished, I could only hear my own shallow breaths.

I don't know how long I sat there like that, my mind reeling.

Eventually my eyes fell to the blonde wig beside me.

I watched my shaking hand reach out to grab it.