The Mother/Son Book Club Pt. 01
Book 1 - Sleeping Beauty - Linda and Bleys.
Prologue:

It started at a brightly lit cafe in the afternoon. Three friends, all married mothers, were having a conversation over coffee, as they did every Wednesday. This time, however, things were far different. A great deal had happened to all of them recently, and finally, last week, they had shared this with each other. Although their stories were all very different, the similar outcomes had led them to believe that this sort of thing was much more common than they would have guessed before, especially in their small town.

This week, Raquel had suggested that they share their stories with others.

"So, wait, how would this work? Hypothetically, I mean." Gina, a curvy, olive-skinned-brunette dressed in tight jeans and a loose sweater, asked. "Would it just be the three of us and our sons?"

Raquel, a conservatively-dressed blonde, allowed herself a small, subtle smile. She knew her friends well. They'd been best friends since high school, always pushing each other a little farther, a little harder. They'd had some wild adventures together in college, but somehow they had become married, bored, and horny. Not to mention ignored, neglected, and it some cases betrayed.

"Well, Gina," Raquel answered. "Hypothetically, we'd start, yes. We'd write the first three parts of the book together. Each one of us would write a chapter with our sons. Then, when we had enough to share and entice, we'd expand our circle. Lord knows there are enough desperately horny mothers in this town to fill at least a city bus, much less my living room."

The third member of the group leaned forward and spoke. Linda was an athletic redhead who seemed to constantly wear yoga pants or leggings, today alongside a tight tank top. Linda usually followed her friends' lead, but this time, she couldn't hold her peace any more.

"God, I don't know if I could share this, guys. Its so personal. I've never felt this loved in my life...and certainly not this well fucked, but to tell other people..."

Raquel's eyes widened at Linda's admission. Gina smiled widely.

"No one is forcing you to tell, but I bet you and Bleys would like to hear our stories as well, right?" Gina said, obviously all in now that she realized that she would get to hear more details about the forbidden relationships of all the others. "So, I trust you both and your boys, of course. We all know more or less everything about each other. But we're going to invite other friends, right? Maybe even women who we don't know, and their sons! How do we know they won't talk?"

Linda answered this time.

"What if we demanded proof? We're going to have them show up together, right? And then tell their stories. So, we make them provide something like a picture or an audio or video recording that's very incriminating. Something we'd all have access to."

"Oooh," Gina said, "I like that!"

"I do too," Raquel nodded in agreement. "And we can always allow a mother and son to express their love in front of the group if they would prefer. We can still record it for posterity."

"And it would be hot as fuck," Linda said. "We could assemble the media and stories in some kind of archive so that everyone could see them any time after they're presented. I could make the website and make sure it's nice and secure."

"Then it's settled," Raquel said with a smug smile. "Every week a mother will share her story alongside her son. You each know what you have to do at home. Give me a list of any women you'd like you invite, especially those that you think have already done something. If we run into anyone on the verge, we can give them a little push and send them down the...correct path. I'll host the first meeting. I'm confident that this will be so very, very enjoyable for all of us."

* * *

Three weeks after their conversation at the cafe was the first meeting of the Auburn Hills Mother/Son Reading and Discussion Club. Raquel joked that the name was so long because anyone who might be suspicious would probably fall asleep by the time they finished reading it. It was exactly the sort of thing that education-conscious suburban helicopter moms might come up with to keep their sons on the right track.

Never mind that the track now included a stop in their mother's beds.

Gina, Linda, and Raquel were prepared for the small crowd of mothers and sons that had shown up, looking nervous and milling about, eating the provided snacks and sharing suspicious glances. They each had their own stories ready to tell, and proof would, of course be provided. But all of them knew each other, if not as friends or acquaintances, then at least on sight. It was a small town. There was a lot of fear of exposure, as was natural. It was for this reason, that the three "Founding Mothers", as they called themselves, had decided to share one of their stories at the inaugural meeting, to break the ice.

Linda would go first...

* * *

Book 1 - Sleeping Beauty - Linda and Bleys

"No. You can sleep it off at your useless friend's house."

Bleys sat on the couch and pretended not to hear the contempt in his father's voice. He wanted to speak up, to tell him that he shouldn't talk to her that way, but he knew from experience that wouldn't end well. Meanwhile, his father continued to bark into the phone.

"I don't care. You wanted to go out and have fun with the girls, you can find your own damn way home. It's disgusting the way you all want to act like you're still at college," his father added. It was enough to give Bleys the courage to speak up.

"I can get her, Dad. I don't mind," Bleys said. His voice was soft, but there was a confidence to it that surprised him. The truth was that his mother, Linda, worked hard at her job, stayed fit, and still managed to make dinner and take care of the house. While his father made more money, he hadn't contributed to the family in any other way for years.

Bleys didn't know what had happened between his parents. He could remember, many years ago, his father taking him fishing, being attentive to his mother, and the family being happy. For the last few years, he'd come home late from work regularly and simply checked out when he was home. His "home office" had basically become where he lived. Worse, at least to Bleys, was that he was cruel to Linda.

Bleys couldn't imagine being cruel to that woman. Even were she not his mother, she was kind and smart and beautiful. He sighed, knowing where that train of thought led from long experience.

Bleys' father looked at him sternly before speaking again into the phone.

"Our son is coming to get you at the restaurant. Just wait there," he said, before hanging up. With that he gave his son a nod, a combination of dismissal and acknowledgement, before returning to his tablet, ignoring his presence.

Bleys took that as a blessing as he expected to be yelled at at least a little bit for going against his father. He ran upstairs, grabbed the keys to his car and his jacket and was out the door and in his own beat-up truck before he wondered why his mother hadn't just asked one of her friends to drive her home. He knew Gina and Raquel and was friends with their sons, and knew that either of them would have offered.

The drive to the local chain restaurant only took him about five minutes - there was little traffic on a weeknight. He was not surprised to see Gina waiting with his mother on a bench outside. It was the sort of thoughtful thing that they would do for one another, ensuring that neither was alone at night.

When Bleys pulled up, he saw Linda standing, slowly. She wobbled a bit on her heels and he hopped out of the truck to help his mother. He walked around quickly and she took his arm, gratefully.

Bleys noticed a few things all at once. The first was that his mother was drunk. He'd never seen her like this, so that took him a bit aback. The second was that her mascara, which had been expertly applied as always, was running slightly, as though she'd been crying. The third was that she was fucking hot.

Bleys knew the latter fact, of course. He'd tried to ignore it, but tonight, that was pretty much impossible. He hadn't seen her get ready before going out. Linda wore a very short green dress which tightly gripped her athletic body, showing off her toned thighs, tight ass, and gorgeous breasts. Her short red hair was arranged to frame her face, which itself was made up almost perfectly with special attention paid to the red of her lips. She wore nothing on her legs, but they required no adornment. Black high-heels completed the image.

Gina, her friend, was short and curvy, with long black hair and the olive skin of her Italian ancestry. She wore a form fitting black dress that night and while Bleys certainly thought she was hot as well, all of his attention was reserved for his mother.

"Hey, Bleys," Gina said.

"Hi, Mrs. Harrington," Bleys answered with a smile, helping his mother into his truck. Linda said nothing, but smiled at her son appreciatively as he closed the door.

Bleys was about to walk around to the other side when he realized that Gina had grabbed his arm, gently.

"Bleys...look, your mom has been a bit emotional tonight. I wouldn't say anything but I know that she was really hoping that your dad would come pick her up. Normally she would have asked me to drive her home, but tonight...she really wanted some attention from her husband."

"Oh," Bleys said, unsure how to answer.

"I know that things at home haven't been great for her, or you. She doesn't gossip but I've known for her a long time. I know when she's holding something back," Gina said, before pausing. She stayed silent for a long time as if mulling something over, before speaking again. "I think it would be very good for her, and for you, if you told her how sexy she looks tonight, and maybe paid her some attention. She might pass out when she gets home but if she doesn't, maybe you could hang out with her a little while. She needs her man to care for her, and tonight, at least, that's you."

Gina smiled, kissed Bleys on the cheek (as she always did with her friends), and walked off, leaving him a bit dazed. He knew that his mother's friend wouldn't lie to him or intentionally mislead him, but was it really a good idea to tell his own mother that she was sexy, even if it was so obviously true.

Bleys got in his truck, started it, and was still a bit distracted as he pulled out of the parking lot, so he was surprised to feel his mother's light touch on his leg.

"Thank you for coming," she said, softly.

"Of course, mom. I'm not going to leave you out here," Bleys said, before adding: "You look um...incredibly sexy, by the way."

If Bleys had any worries about offending his mother, her answering smile and giggle pushed them aside. He'd never heard his mother laugh like that before. It was flirtatious and...cute? Why hadn't he ever thought of her that way as well? It was perfectly obvious. She was sexy, desirable, kind, smart, and...adorable. At that moment, more than anything else, he wanted to let her know, but instead, he reached across the seat to hold her hand.

Bleys misjudged the distance, or perhaps Linda shifted a bit, because instead of her hand he felt her thigh. Warm, bare, and smooth, it was obvious that she had shaved tonight. He made a noise in his throat, somewhere between shock and desire, and withdrew his hand quickly, but his mother said nothing. He did not dare look at her, being afraid of what he would see in her eyes.

Before long, they were home again. Bleys helped his mother get out of the car. She held his arm tightly as they approached the door, and he couldn't help but notice how good her body felt pressed into his. Her breast felt firm against his arm, and he bet it would feel amazing in his palm. He wondered what sorts of noises his mother made when she was aroused, and if she enjoyed being fondled like that. He was disgusted at himself for these thoughts, as always, but he couldn't ever stop them.

Bleys' father was already halfway upstairs when they came inside. He barked out a few words over his shoulder as he looked at Linda, his face a mask of disgust.

"She can sleep downstairs, in the guest room. I don't want any drunks in my room," he said.

Bleys had had enough. He was about to ask his father where he got off acting like this, but then his mothers hand was on his forearm. He looked at Linda, and she simply shook her head. Bleys sighed. She was right. It wasn't worth the fight. He turned around to hear his father slamming their bedroom door.

Linda sighed.

"Do you mind, um, helping me get set up in the guest room? At least it has its own bathroom and I don't have to worry about your father throwing barbs at me all night."

Bleys helped his mother get to the room. It was simple, a small bedroom with a queen sized bed, a dresser, nightstand, and television and not much else. It did have its own attached shower and bathroom, however. She sat on the side of the bed and he knelt in front of her. Knowing that her heels were the main thing she was having trouble with in her tipsy state, he removed one, and then the other. He made the mistake of looking up, then.

Linda had parted her legs slightly, making it easier for him to take her shoes off. She was leaning back on her palms and looking over his head, and not paying attention to the fact that her dress was so short that it was impossible for Bleys not to notice her panties. They were sheer green lace and went perfectly with the dress. They covered everything but hid nothing. His mothers pussy was a bit swollen, perhaps even excited, and she had a full, if neatly trimmed, bush of darker red hair that matched his own. Bleys felt his face grow hot as he grew hard immediately. He wondered what she would smell like. What she would taste like.

"Bleys," his mothers voice said softly. He looked up, started and ashamed, but he only saw the same love in his mother's eyes that he always did. That, and maybe a slight hint of amusement.

"Yeah, sorry," he said. He made no effort to justify his behavior.

"Would you mind getting me a glass of water? I think I can make it to the bathroom all right. I'll just sleep in my underwear tonight."

Bleys nodded and stood quickly. Turning to leave, he heard a soft gasp from his mother, and he knew, with guilty certainty, that she had seen his hard on. It was pretty noticeable in the jeans he was wearing. He acted like he had heard nothing and left to get his mother water.

When Bleys arrived back in the guest room, the bathroom door was closed and he could hear the water running. He set the glass down and debated leaving. He felt like it was the right thing to do. He'd picked his mother up, after all, and ensured that she got home. But then...Gina had suggested that he spend some time with her, give her some attention.

As bleys closed the door to the guest bedroom instead of walking out of it he thought, what could it hurt? And maybe, if he was lucky, he could get another peek at his mother's body. He was aware that he was becoming obsessed with it. Watching her do her yoga in the afternoons was a guilty pleasure of his, but really, what was wrong with it, if she didn't mind? She'd caught him looking after all, and didn't seem to be upset. Maybe the attention of a younger man made her feel sexier?

Bleys was still standing there when the door opened and his mother walked out of the bathroom. Her dress was over one arm and she set it on the dresser. She wore nothing but her underwear, and was seemingly completely unaware that both bra and panties were nearly transparent. Bleys was stunned. All he could do was watch. Fortunately, Linda didn't seem to mind. She smiled at him, a little sadly, then sat down on the bed again and had a long sip of water.

"I'm pretty sure your father is having an affair, Bleys," Linda said.

"What? I...I mean...why would he ever cheat on you? I mean, I believe you, I just...it makes no sense. If anything, you're out of his league."

Bleys hadn't thought about the words at all, but had just let them flow. He had been so shocked at the idea that anyone would cheat on his gorgeous perfect mother that it was as though all his internal filters had just shut off.

"Thank you for saying so. I just...I was hoping tonight that he'd see me go out, dressed like this, and maybe be attracted to me again. Or maybe he'd be turned on by me being a bit drunk and flirty. I don't know. I was trying to be exciting. It was stupid."

"It's not stupid, mom. He should appreciate you. Honestly? I don't know if I would have been okay with you going out like that. I mean...um...I shouldn't have said that I..."

"What do you mean?" Linda said, a bit sharply, looking up at her son. He was uncomfortably aware of how easily he could make out her nipples against her pale skin under the sheer fabric of the bra.

"I guess I mean that if you were my girlfriend, I would want to be out with you if you dressed like that. I'd want everyone to know you were with me, and I'd want to be sure that you came home with me. Maybe I'm just too jealous, but I'd want you to dress like that only for me. Wow, that's messed up. I'm sorry. I shouldn't..."

Linda smiled widely, and for a moment, Bleys thought she might cry.

"No! No, that's...that's really very sweet, Bleys. I mean...I don't know, I've always liked a little possessiveness in my men. I guess I'm the same way, too. When you get dressed up to go out on dates, I sometimes get a little bit upset. I feel like those girls you see are stealing my boy."

For a moment, both of them simply stared at each other, eyes meeting, neither looking away. Then, as if realizing she'd crossed a line, Linda looked aside first. She reached out and touched her son's thigh, and Bleys was aware of how close she was to his cock. He breathed in deeply, but Linda moved the covers aside and got under them, before adjusting them so only a sheet covered her. She lay on her back, and her body was now outlined in relief, and that made her even sexier to her son, as if she was a present, waiting to be unwrapped.

"Would you do me a favor, Bleys?" She asked, softly.

"Of course, mom. What do you want?"

Linda's eyes shot up to his.

"You don't have to. You can say no."

"Mom, it's fine. What do you want?"

"Will you stay with me? Until I fall asleep?"

"Sure, mom."

"W-will you hold me? Just...for a little while. It would really make me feel better to feel close to you right now."

Bleys took a deep breath, but nodded. As she rolled over, facing away from him, he took off his shoes. He thought about getting into the bed like that, but he knew that wouldn't be what she wanted. Maybe it was the things Gina had said earlier, maybe it was his own desire; somehow he knew as a man, he would have insulted her. She needed a considerate man tonight, and the warmth of skin contact, not another unfeeling jerk like his father. He removed his jeans, and finally his shirt. Then he turned off the light and slid behind his mother. He debated for a moment, and then decided to put his arm over her waist, onto her belly. That instinct again. It was smooth and fluttered under his touch. She wasted no time, pushing back into his body, and he grew hard immediately. Bleys waited for her to say something, shout at him, or even just pull away, but she didn't. If anything, she pushed a little more against him.

"Don't worry," she said. "Even if you end up falling asleep here, your father will leave early and will never check on me. He'll never know."

"Okay, mom."

"Don't be ashamed of anything. I know how a young man's body works. I know that you might...um...need some release. It's natural. And, of course, I asked you to hold me, so I can't really complain if your hands wander...well...anywhere. So don't worry about anything you do, even while I'm asleep. ," Linda said. Then, without another word, she closed her eyes. Soon, her breathing became very slow and regular, and Bleys realized that she was fast asleep.
What had she meant by that? Had she really given him permission to...touch her? To cum? Bleys realized that she had, even if not in so many words. But she was drunk, right? And it wasn't right to take advantage of someone while they were drunk or asleep. On the other hand, if she was really lonely, and his father was cheating then...

Bleys thoughts were interrupted by his mothers body, shifting against him in her sleep, grinding her ass against his hard cock. It was a bit soft and very firm and perfect. He groaned, unable to stop himself from making the noise. His mother, still seemingly asleep, sighed in satisfaction.

Bleys understood then, that this was something his mother hadn't had in a long time. Maybe just the fact that he wanted her was improving her self esteem. Maybe...maybe she needed him to do more. If that was the case, if she needed that, wouldn't he be bad to not give it to her? Wouldn't it be the right thing to do, to help his beloved mother feel better?

And, Bleys realized, he very much loved her. No, that was wrong. He was in love with her. The vulnerability she'd show to him tonight, if only in brief moments, had been enough to make him understand her all the better.

Bleys waited another five minutes, just enjoying the feel of her warmth against him. He didn't want to do anything to ruin their relationship, but he had never wanted anything more in his life than to touch his mother.

Slowly, with deliberation, he slid his hand up her body, over onto her chest, until it rested on the soft lace of her bra. He felt her breathing, allowed it to push her breast into his hand. He let his hand rest there, enjoying the incredible feel.

I'm groping my own mother. She's letting me, but I should stop. I should stop, now.

Bleys' thoughts came through clearly, but he ignored them. This wasn't like the times he'd touched girls his age. This was so much better. He cared about his mother. About Linda. He wanted her, yes, and this was wrong by most standards, but she wanted this, didn't she?

Slowly, gently, Bleys squeezed his mothers right breast in his hand. For a moment, he felt her breath change, adding a shudder, but it evened out again. Linda was still asleep. He remained there, frozen, for a long time. He expected her to wake up, shouting, calling him a disgusting boy and a worthless son.

But that didn't happen. Not only that, but Linda sighed, arching her back, pushing her breast into her son's hand, while grinding her ass against him.

Bleys knew that she was enjoying herself now, even if she wasn't fully awake. It emboldened him. He didn't remove the bra, but he did move it up, over her breasts, freeing them. He began to fondle each in turn, first softly, holding and massaging them. As Linda reacted, whimpering, he gripped them harder, finally pinching her pebbled nipple, causing her to moan so loudly that it shocked him.

Bleys knew at that point that he could never look at his mother the same way again. She was a sensual, sexual creature, and she had needs, like his. Having never had free range to touch a woman's body, he allowed his hands to explore her, her shoulders, back, stomach, and neck. All of his touching was hesitant and gentle, and Linda seemed to enjoy it as much as he did.

Bleys found his mother's body to be fit, but also with a curvy softness that he found impossibly arousing. He squeezed her ass, hard, and she moaned and squirmed and at last, he allowed himself to ask the obvious question.

What did his mother's pussy feel like? With a slowness that both he and his mother found agonizing, he set his hand on his mother's stomach again, then let it slide down. As it did, he felt his mother squirm again, grinding against him. This time he groaned in response. He was hard, and knew he was dripping.

A tiny voice in the back of his mind, an animal, savage thing, told him to roll his mother on her front, pull her panties down, and ram himself inside her. He did not listen to it. For all his desire, and the urges he was indulging, he loved his mother, and he knew that he wanted her to be as happy as he was. He could save the more depraved ideas for his fantasies.

Instead, he slipped his hand into his mother's underwear. He could tell that she was very aroused. She was wet and her pussy was swollen. She moaned again, in response to his hand simply caressing her.

"Please," she whispered, although Bleys knew that she was still asleep. She started to push against his hand, and he knew what she wanted. He began to gently, caress her pussy. Starting gently but building in pressure, he paid attention to where his mother seemed to need his touch. Bleys built a rhythm, allowing her to grind against his palm, letting his fingers slide through her slit. He would not allow himself to penetrate her. Not yet.

Linda moaned when he moved his thumb around her nub. When he played with it directly, firmly, she made a noise between pleasure and pain and he felt badly. He returned back to giving her pressure and friction, and when her body began to quiver and shake and tense, he pulled back, just a bit. Linda made a whining, pleading noise, and Bleys was aroused by how much control he had over his mother in that moment. She was a beautiful, sophisticated woman, and he had her begging, not with her voice but with her whole body, for release.

To Bleys' shock, he felt his mother's hand seizing his, forcing it back onto her pussy. She still wasn't wake, and Bleys wondered what she was dreaming. It didn't matter. He'd gone too far to stop now. He leaned forward and ground against his mother's ass, feeling his cock slip out the front of his boxers.

Linda's panties and been pushed down almost to her thighs and his cock began to slide between her cheeks. His cock didn't fit between her thighs, but instead ran up, pointed towards her back. As she approached orgasm he thrust up between her smooth cheeks. He paid no attention to his own body, only hers. He kissed her neck and even bit her, and then he felt her whole body tense up.

With a huge groan, Linda came. Her body flexed and arched, again and again. She moaned and held his hand in place to continue the orgasm. To Bleys surprise, she ground even harder against him, and he tipped over the edge.

Bleys felt his muscles clench as he fired spurt after spurt of hot, sticky cum all over his own mother's smooth back. He knew without a doubt that she could feel it running down, staining the clean sheets of the guest bed. For a moment, he sat there, mind empty, simply panting from the excitement of what he, what they had done. Linda sighed softly, and slipped deeper into sleep.

Bleys felt a sinking feeling open up in his stomach. While his mother had given him "permission", there was no way she could have known what he would take it as, and she was also obviously drunk. There was nothing he could do about what he'd done, but hopefully, she wouldn't know. Or at least wouldn't mention it.

Bleys wanted to clean her up, but the idea of waking his mother up by washing his cum off of her back was something that he wasn't ready for. She'd shower in the morning, and hopefully it would be dry by then. That was all he could hope for.

Bleys slipped from the sheets, put his clothes on quietly and left, guilt hanging over him like a cloud.

* * *

Linda woke the following morning, and was surprised to feel refreshed rather than hung over. It was amazing what the attention of a good man and a nice orgasm could do to help her sleep.

Linda appreciated her drunk confidence to grant Bleys permission to touch her last night. It was intended to stave off any guilt he might feel for grinding or his hands wandering, but she had to admit that while she never would have been brave enough to ask her son directly, she was glad that he had taken the initiative. And while she was only partially aware of any of it, she had truly enjoyed it.

Her sons gradual and, if she was honest, tentative touches and gropings the night before and had been exactly what she wanted. The feel of his searing hot cum splashing with some force on her lower back had been proof that she was still desirable, impossible to fake.

Linda's memories may have been vague, but she knew that she was loved by a good man who cared for her, and who wanted her and thought she was sexy, and the very knowledge that she loved him in return made her want to sing, no matter how evil society would judge it.

Linda got up and left the guest room without worrying. She knew that her husband had left much earlier, uninterested in interacting with his family. She showered and dressed quickly before heading downstairs. Although she knew she would be gone before Bleys was truly awake, she decided to take a few minutes to make him breakfast. That would be a nice surprise for him. She made the eggs and bacon quickly, plated it, and covered it with another plate.

As she did so, she ran the events over and over again in her head. The feel of his hands. His insistent touches that brought her to orgasm faster than hers ever could have. Obviously, it could never happen again. That would be beyond inappropriate.

If it did, then Linda would truly be having an extramarital affair with her own son. Her face heated at the thought. Instead of leaving right away, however, she stopped and wrote a quick note to Bleys before slipping it under his plate. She couldn't write everything she wanted to, and she knew she wasn't strong enough to just come out and say it, but she could perhaps make him feel a bit of the joy that she did. She chose her words carefully, so he would (hopefully) not miss her intent. She never wanted him to feel badly for what he had done.

With that, Linda collected her things and left for the day, exhilarated for once to be going to work.

* * *

Bleys heard his mother leaving and sighed, deeply. He had slept fitfully the night before, the events running though his mind, making him hard again and again. Normally he might have jerked off, granting him some relief, but that felt wrong. Like he would be violating his mothers trust yet again. So instead he suffered in silence.

After waiting a few minutes, he woke, dressed, and went downstairs. He was surprised to see the food waiting for him, and immediately noticed the note underneath the plate.

Bleys felt his gut wrench when he thought of the food, and he dreaded reading the note, but he knew that he had to, and putting it off would just make things worse.

"Baby,

Thank you so much for last night. You made me feel really special and loved. I especially appreciated the little surprise that you left me.

Love,

Mommy"

After reading the note, Bleys found that his appetite had returned.

* * *

The day passed in a blur for both Linda and her son. Neither could focus on simple tasks. Both of them found themselves daydreaming about what had happened the night previously, and had to ask people to repeat statements multiple times. By the end of the day, they were both worked up, excited to see one another, filled with an anticipation for something that neither of them could quite place.

Bleys couldn't think of a way to experience that again. But Linda could think of several ways to interact with her son in that way, including ways that would allow her to maintain a facade of innocence. Of ignorance of what her son had done to her.

Truthfully, she didn't care much about that, except that her passivity, her offering of her body as a sacrifice to her son's pleasure, her lack of resistance, the taboo of the whole thing, all blended together into a cocktail of shame and anticipation and pure arousal. She'd never felt anything quite like that.

Linda left a few minutes early. She never did, but she wanted a bit of extra time. She knew that Bleys was a good boy, and that he would never take advantage of her without her permission, of one sort or another. But if she made herself available, she also knew that he could not resist her. Her memories of the prior night were very blurry, but she knew that what he had done to her had been...intense...and she had felt his hunger for her.

He wouldn't be able to resist her tonight.

* * *

Linda came home, saw Bleys studying at the table, and favored him with nothing more than a smile before she set her grocery bags and began to cook. Bleys couldn't keep his eyes off of her.

Linda's trim curves filled out the tasteful blue dress she wore, and now that Bleys knew how firm and soft she felt, he couldn't help but obsess about tearing it off of her. He pretended to keep working on his calculus, while surreptitiously shooting glances at her as she worked.

Linda felt her son's eyes, and she, too, had difficulty concentrating. She did, however, know how to make some things virtually on autopilot: steak, potatoes, and a heavy gravy. It was a bit much for her, usually, but her husband could not resist it.

True to form, her husband joined them for what was one of his favorite meals. Both he and Linda enjoyed quite a bit of wine with their meals. Bleys couldn't help but wonder what she was doing. Every time he thought that perhaps she didn't remember last night (or had decided not to remember), she favored him with a glance, a smile, a hand on his arm, or once a foot running up his calf.

By the time the meal was over, Bleys was worked up beyond belief. His mother had done so little, but there was so much tension inside of him. He was sure, however, that she was just playing with him tonight. Surely he could not be so lucky as to experience his mother's body two nights in a row...

"Bleys," Linda said, suddenly, drawing him back to reality.

"Yes?"

"Your father just said he needed to go to bed early tonight as he has an early meeting tomorrow. Do you think you would mind watching a movie with me? I don't really like watching them alone and..."

"Sure."

"I mean, only if it's no trouble. If you have plans or need to study then..."

"No, mom, it's fine. I don't mind."

Bleys tried to play it cool, but he knew when he saw his mothers small, sly smile that he'd responded correctly. It was true. Linda would often "bother" her husband to watch movies with her. Sometimes he would oblige, but most of the time he would not.

"Good," his father said, at last. "I really don't have the energy for that nonsense tonight."

For once, neither Linda nor Bleys were brought down by his bad mood.

* * *

After dinner, Bleys volunteered to do the dishes, so Linda went upstairs early. Much like any normal movie night, she 'got comfortable', first. She went upstairs and changed out of her "business casual", being sure to remove her bra and panties. In their place she wore a simple, oversized blue silky button-down sleeping top. Normally, she would wear a small pair of shorts with it, but as the top would cover all of it, she instead wore a simple, very skimpy set of blue-silky panties.

Then, she took a deep breath and looked at herself in the mirror. She felt like a college girl again, for real this time, knowing that she would be seeing someone who she wanted to both arouse and impress. She reapplied her makeup, this time very subtly. The only thing she emphasized was a slightly too-red shade of lipstick. She smiled. She looked hot. Like a young man's MILF- fantasy come to life.

Of course, that was exactly what she was.

Lastly, Linda crossed the final line, and took a single pill, washing it down with water from the faucet. She didn't often take it, but when she did...she always was asleep within a half hour. Now, she was on a timer. She wanted to be ready for her son by the time she passed out.

Linda took her phone and the small posable tripod/stand for it that she'd gotten for cheap at the grocery store. She walked downstairs at the same time her husband was going back upstairs for the night. She was afraid that he would notice the oddities of her dress or the tripod, but as always, he paid her no mind. She took a deep breath and walked through the kitchen into the living room. Bleys had already finished the dishes and had started picking a movie. She plopped down next to her son, as casually as she could. She had to admit to herself that he was almost her ideal man, and it was difficult to unsee him that way, now. Her own son gave her butterflies.

Bleys turned to face his mother, and took her whole body in, especially her bare, toned legs. Linda felt herself grow wet in response, already.

"Your father is almost certainly already asleep. If you don't make too much noise, he definitely will be."

"Yeah, I thought the same thing."

"Good. So. I've had a long day, and for some reason I feel like I had something like a workout last night..."

"Oh."

"Yes. Well, that doesn't matter, I suppose. What matters is that while I really do want to spend time with you and watch this movie, I've had to take some of my medicine, and I'll probably pass out, soon. I'm sorry."

"It's all right, mom. I...um...understand," Bleys responded, hoping that he did. But she continued.

"Well, I think that you do. But I have some things I need to tell you. Things that can't remain unsaid. So, I need you to listen closely. For me."

Linda saw her son nod, almost solemnly. She loved him even more in that moment. He was excited and aroused as any young man would be, but he still cared for her, still wanted to treat her right and respect her limits. He was her ideal lover.

"I know that you want to do things to me. I...I'm not ready for that to happen while I'm awake. You can feel...anything you can want. You can kiss and...and rub against anything and anywhere. You might need to put...things...in my mouth. But nowhere else, okay? And...and...whatever you do, is fine. Even if you're a little bit harsher than you were before, or make a mess. Do you understand?"

"I do," Bleys said, suddenly more aroused than he had been even the night before. "And...and I'll um...clean up better this time."

Linda smiled.

"Okay. One more thing," Linda said, as she took her phone out and set it on the small green plastic tripod she had purchased at the grocery store. She pressed the button to start it recording, feeling something inside her react to this, as if it started her as well. "This is going to record everything you do."

"Okay, I understand. I mean...this is weird and you want to be safe and..."

Linda shook her head.

" I...I trust you. This isn't about that. I...I'm going to be really out tonight. Last night I was, too, but I still remember a lot of it, even if its vague. Tonight, I want you to go farther, but this medicine is...is strong. I'm going to be completely out. And...and I want...I need to see what you do to me baby. I need to see it and...um...touch myself."

Bleys was shocked. While he did understand that he had given his semi-conscious mother an orgasm the night before, the idea that she was just as excited as he was had never occurred to him.

But just as fast as the conversation had started, it was over. His mother had taken the remote from his hands and started the movie; a "Netflix original" which happened to involve a romance between a younger man and an older woman.

Linda touched her son's arm.

"Do you mind if I lay back and put my legs over your lap? I always feel very comfortable and safe when I'm touching you."

Bleys just nodded, and watched the mesmerizing way his mother's body shifted and moved as she made herself comfortable. Soon, she was settled in, partially turned over, and watching attentively. Bleys could hardly think, but he watched the movie as well. Almost idly, but with agonizing awareness, he ran his hand up and down his mother's bare leg. He was desperate to push up higher, to move the silky material of the PJ top and see what was underneath it. But he was patient, and more importantly, respectful of his mother's wishes. So he waited.
He didn't have to wait long.

* * *

Not twenty minutes into the movie, the couple on the screen had met, had their first little fight, and their first date, full of sexual tension. The acting wasn't great, but it did seem appropriate to Bleys. He looked over at his mother, thinking about making a witty comment, but she was breathing slowly, lying completely on her back, eyes shut.

Bleys smiled to himself, and felt himself grow completely hard again. He had expected to simply lose control at this point, but to his own surprise he just watched for a moment before reaching out and moving some hair off of her face. It was a tender motion, and let him see his mother clearly.

Linda was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and he felt his pre-existing love for his mother grow and change in unexpected ways in this moment, which he realized he would remember for a very long time to come.

Bleys carefully stood up, setting his mothers legs back down on the couch. She shifted, but only slightly, and her legs naturally parted a bit as she settled back down. Slowly, almost painfully for Bleys, he knelt down and kissed her forehead, and then her mouth. She responded with a whimper, and a slight arch of her back.

Bleys didn't know how he knew, but he was sure that his mother was already wet. He began to unbutton her top, one after the other, until the last one was free. He moved one side and then the other out of the way. Linda's breasts had settled and spread on her chest in a way that made them look smaller somehow, but no less beautiful. He hesitantly reached out and took one of them in his hand again. It was so warm, seemingly even more than the previous night. Tonight, under the light of the television, he watched his mother's face as he caressed it, squeezed it, and again, pinched the tight nipple.

Linda inhaled sharply through her teeth and squirmed, then moaned ever so slightly. He leaned over and kissed her mouth again, enjoying the passive way which her lips opened to him, allowing his tongue to enter her mouth. Then, with a boldness that was almost sudden, he moved town to her chest and took her nipple in his mouth.

Bleys licked it, savoring the flavor of his mother's body. She tasted savory, but almost sweet to him. No girl he'd kissed ever tasted like this. Linda subtly arched her back again, pushing into his mouth. He rewarded her motion by sucking on the nipple, first lightly, and then hard.

Linda moaned and exhaled, and Bleys imagined he heard his own name whispered. Perhaps it was just his imagination, but Bleys couldn't help but respond softly.

"Oh fuck, mom. You're so beautiful," he said, completely unaware of the camera. His mother was his world.

He finally looked down from her chest and saw that she wore a tiny set of black panties. He looked around, finally a bit self conscious, considering an action that he regarded as shameful despite the permission he had. Finally, he made up his mind.

Gently, Bleys pulled his mother's panties down, working first one side and then the other, until they were lose and down all the way to her knees. She was wet and beautiful, her bush probably last trimmed a few weeks ago. Her scent suddenly filled his nose, and he was almost powerless to stop himself from what he did next.

Bleys got back on the couch, facing his mother, and lay so could easily taste her perfect pussy. His started by kissing and tasting her inner thighs, savory and salty with her sweat, then moved up to her lips, licking and taking them into his mouth. Linda breathed harder, torso shifting, instinctively trying to push herself against her son's mouth.

Bleys allowed his tongue to part her lips, barely. He knew that he was forbidden from going any deeper, as much as he wanted to finger her and tongue her and, yes, fuck her. As he thought about mounting his mother, letting his cock enter where he had been created, he almost lost control. Quickly he threw his mother's limp legs over his arms, licking her clit with abandon while his hands reached up and explored her breasts again. He was not gentle.

Linda, apparently, did not need gentle tonight. Before Bleys had even grown a bit tired, she was gasping and moaning, instinctively lewd noises that not even the porn he had watched had prepared him for. These were true animalistic, sexual sounds, and Bleys had reached down and freed his cock from his own shorts before he regained control and realized that no, he could not and would not enter his mother's pussy.

Not tonight, anyway.

Again and again, Bleys' tongue lashed his mother's pussy. She moaned and shifted and sometimes tried to escape his ministrations and other times ground into his face. Still, he would not stop. Soon, with an almost frightening amount of strength, his mother ground her crotch into his face, over and over again as her body spasmed, helpless and jerking like a puppet on strings.

At last, Linda gave out a deep sigh and exhaled, and Bleys was rewarded with a new rush of wetness covering his face and tongue. Bleys looked up and watched his mother's body relax completely. He had pleasured her to orgasm again, and it made him feel good.

Bleys was painfully hard. He stood and moved around the couch, then quickly but gently repositioned her body so her face was at the edge of the couch, propped up by the pillow to face out. He knelt by her, and, after a moments hesitation, pushed his cock into her lips. At first, she did not react and he simply ended up wiping his pre-cum on her lips. He wondered if he would have to push her mouth open manually, when she opened her lips of her own volition, whimpering slightly.

Bleys wondered if his mother enjoyed sucking cock as much as he enjoyed going down on her, and he gently inserted his cock into her willing mouth. She opened as widely as she could, and he almost came from the warm, wet feeling of her mouth.

Bleys began to move, thrusting in and out of his mother's mouth, and enjoyed the feeling. To his shock, Linda made a noise of hunger, deep in her throat, and began to suck.

As Bleys sped up, he felt his mother's tight lips wrap around his cock, and she began to suck in earnest. She moaned, and he felt it, and Bleys realized that this must be something that she enjoyed doing. He groaned, and began to cum.

His first spurt went into her mouth, which worried him, given that she was sleeping still, so he pulled out, barely in time. The second and third covered her face, with some overshooting it and landing on her tits. More and more came out of him, far more than ever before, and by the time he was done, it looked like more than one man had cum on his mother.

Bleys felt guilty and even more aroused by the scene in front of him, but first, his concern was for his mother's breathing. To his relief, Linda simply swallowed, and kept breathing normally.

Bleys put his own clothes back on, then went to the kitchen and got a warm, wet cloth before coming back to Linda's side. Only a little bit of his cum had over shot his mother or dripped off of her face onto the couch itself. Bleys cleaned his mother's face first, then her chest. He did so gently, and with great care. He did not even realize that he was speaking to her as he did so, telling her how much he loved her, and needed her. Only after finishing this, did he clean the spots on the couch.

Bleys took one last look at his mother, then carefully buttoned up her top, pulled her panties back up into position, and then took a blanket from the back of the couch, and covered her gently. He smiled at how peaceful she looked, and at the memory of what he had done, and that his mother had some of his cum in her belly, even at that moment.

Bleys stopped the recording on his mother's phone, and removed it from the tripod, ensuring it was locked. He would keep the tripod in his room, so there wouldn't need to be any explaining it.

Bleys went upstairs to his own room and took a shower. He didn't want to. He wanted to keep the scent of his mother on his face for the rest of the night and perhaps even the next day, but he knew he had to be safer than that. He had to protect her, to pleasure her, and to be with her. He would do anything for that.

Bleys lay on his bed, thinking of what had occurred. As he relived the experience of slowly undressing his sleeping mother, he began to stroke himself, having quickly become hard from the recollection. He sped up as he remembered feeling his mother, the taste of her on his lips, her warm nectar bathing his mouth and chin. As he remembered inserting his cock into his mother's mouth, her face angel-like as she unconsciously sucked him off, he came again, this time on his own body. He cleaned himself quickly and rolled over, truly exhausted.

Bleys slept soundly that night, and dreamed of her and the things he might do to her in the future.

* * *

A few days passed before anything else happened. Linda was afraid, now, that she had gone too far. That she had damaged her son in some way, but in every important way he behaved the same. It was, however, obvious to her that he was a young man in love.

In love with her.

Linda welcomed this. She felt like she was eighteen again, and Bleys had made her feel that way. She, too had fallen in love with him.

She had first watched the video of that night the following day. On her lunch break, she had gone out to her car, with the idea of just skimming through the footage.

Her resolve had broken the moment he had started sucking on her breast. She fingered herself to her first orgasm when she watched him giving her one with his tongue. Seeing him fucking her mouth, hearing the things he said, watching the cum splash on her face, had been too much and she'd cum again.

Linda had watched the footage several times each day since then. Almost every time she had to finger herself. No man she had been with had ever inspired the kind of lust that her lovely, beautiful, perfect son had. She knew she needed more of him, but she also knew that they both needed time. She couldn't rush this. Besides, she was still his mother. She still needed to look out for him, in her own way. If he had second thoughts, she would stop, although it would be almost impossible.

Still, Linda didn't punish Bleys with silence. It was one thing to tease, but another to emotionally manipulate. She wrote him a note the day after. This time she slid it inside of his pillowcase. She couldn't bring herself to say the words.

Bleys found the note that same evening as soon as his head hit the pillow. He had been worried that he had gone too far the previous night, but his mother had shown him a great deal of affection. Some obvious, like platonic hugs and kisses. Some less so, such as brushing her body against his, or once, grasping his cock through his pants on the couch while his father looked the other way. So, by the time he decided to go to bed, he knew that she was happy with him, but he did not understand what the next step would be.

Bleys read the note in the light of his lamp.

"Baby,

I love you so much. I watched what you did to me. What you did for me. I can't get enough. You were so loving, more so than your father or any other man has ever been.

I want more with you, but I want you to take a few days and think about things. If you want to stop, I understand. I'm sorry I'm so needy, but if you want to keep going, I'll be ready for you on the weekend.

Plan on being around the house that night. I'll tell you when its time.

—Mommy"

* * *

The final escalation happened on Saturday.

Bleys was on pins and needles the whole week, and had to jerk off multiple times a day. When his mother hugged him it took all his will not to grab her ass or kiss her. When he grew hard, she simply hugged him tighter, and sometimes even ground into him. Still, that was as far as she was willing to go, and Bleys respected that. He knew that his mother was suffering as well. She needed fucked, too.

On Saturday morning, Bleys followed his usual routine. He worked at a local grocery part time, and that kept him distracted. When he was done, he came home, but did not leave to hang out with Vincent and Elliot like he normally would have in the evening Instead, he stayed home and read on the couch.

More accurately, he tried to read but lacked the focus. His mother wasn't really interacting with him, aside from bringing him some pizza that she had ordered. After his father came into the room, and sat down to watch football, Bleys decided that it was unlikely that anything would happen that night.

Still, when Linda made a show of yawning, he perked up and looked at her from across the room. She stood behind the couch where his father sat. She winked at Bleys and mouthed five minutes, silently. Bleys barely nodded in response.

"I'm heading to bed, honey," she said, as she went upstairs.

"Fine," his father said.

"Good night, mom," Bleys said.

The next five minutes were very difficult for Bleys. He could barely contain himself, but he forced himself to watch the television.

"I'm feeling pretty tired, dad. I'm going to turn in, too," Bleys said. This time his father said nothing but nodded in dismissal.

Bleys rushed upstairs, eager to get started, but decided to go to his room first. He could change there, then go to his parents room. Even in his excited state he wondered if it was safe to do what they were going to do there, but he knew that he wouldn't let the chance of getting caught stop him.

Bleys thought that he had left the door to his room open but didn't think about it as he came inside and turned on the light. What he saw made him close the door behind him without looking, pressing the button that locked it.

Linda lay there, nude, on top of the sheets, awake, eyes boring into him with their need. She was fingering herself with one hand, legs splayed open, while the other massaged and pinched her nipple.

"Wow," was all Bleys was able to say, frozen at the sight of her uncovered beauty. He wanted her, but he wanted to watch her as well.

"Undress for me please. I need to see you tonight. I need to be awake for this. I'm ready."

Bleys needed no more encouragement. He stripped quickly, to his mother's amusement, before he practically lept on top of her. For a moment he hesitated, knowing that this last step was something beyond what either of them had already done, a taboo line that no one was ever supposed to cross.

Linda couldn't wait any longer. She parted her legs and took her son's hard, dripping cock in her hand, forcing a moan from him. She guided the head of his cock into her ready, wet pussy, and he instinctively pushed himself the rest of the way in.

"Fuuuckk," he said. Bleys had never felt anything quite like the tight, wet warmth that surrounded him now. He could barely speak. "Mom, I...I don't know if I can last very long..."

"Don't worry about that, just fuck me baby. Fuck me and claim me and make me yours."

Bleys did just that, thrusting inside of her with eagerness if not expertise. He kissed her lips at first, then her throat, then nipped at her neck and shoulders. His hands wandered, groping her breast, squeezing her ass, unable to stop themselves.

Linda felt more loved than she ever had, desired to a point that almost frightened her. No man had taken her like this, no man had devoured her body as her son was, now. What was more, he seemed to have an almost instinctive understanding of how to arouse her, what pleased her. He fucked her hard, but with a slow measured stroke that left himself inside of her and allowed her to grind against him. Soon, to her surprise, she began to cum.

"Oh, fuck fuck , don't stop baby keep fucking mommy please please please..."

Linda was only half aware of herself, and she was almost shouting. Bleys reacted instinctively by placing his hand over her mouth, which prevented her from drawing breath. This only heightened the pleasure for Linda, and was something she did to herself when she masturbated, but had never had the courage to ask another to do for her. Her body arched as the orgasm had its way with her far more ruthlessly than her son was.

When Linda collapsed, in a limp heap, her son stopped a moment, wondering if she needed to rest before he proceeded. What she needed more than anything else was his cum inside of her.

"I'm not on any birth control. I want our first time like this to be special," she said, trying and failing to sound innocent.

Bleys, acting on a deeper instinct than he knew, was filled with the urge to breed his own mother. The idea drove him wild. He lifted her legs up and put her thighs on his shoulders. Thank god for yoga, he thought briefly before ramming himself back inside of her.

Linda's moans grew louder and he kissed her again as he sped the pace up, fucking her harder and harder. He closed his eyes, trying to last as long as he could. He needed this, he needed to fill his mother...to breed her.

"Look me in the eyes, baby. I want to see you when you cum inside me."

"Mom...I love you," he said, his voice a harsh whisper as he opened his eyes and let go. He emptied himself inside of her, his orgasm seeming to last forever, spurt after spurt filling her up. Finally, out of energy, he almost collapsed on her, barely managing to pull out before he did so, resting his head on her sweaty chest as she caressed his hair, just as she always had.

Everything felt perfect to both of them, as though a long open circle had been closed. They stayed like that for a long time, before Linda spoke again.

"Later, you can fuck me in my bed. But you understand what that would mean, right?"

"That we're...together, right? For real."

"Right. The thing about me is...well, your mother is a possessive woman. I know that at some point you're going to leave home and get a girlfriend and that's fine, but while we're together, I want to be the only woman in your bed and your heart."

"And you belong to me, right? As much as you can?"

"Exactly. I won't have sex with your father again, and I've been putting off a divorce for too long already, but you don't need to worry about that. Now come here and hold me for a bit before I have to go to bed."

Bleys did as his mother asked, spooning her from behind, letting his hand rest on her breast.

Linda smiled, wondering how she had become so fortunate to have had such a good son.

* * *

"And that's how we started this thing. I gave Bleys' father the divorce papers a week later. He kept much of our savings, but Bleys and I got the house. Bleys shares my bed now, and, to be honest, we're just about married."

Linda paused, absently rubbing her belly, only a bit larger than normal.

"I'm due in another six months," she added, smiling. Bleys, seated with her on the couch, in front of the other couples, no longer could help himself. He reached across and inside her shirt, squeezing her slightly-enlarged breast, a motion of both love and possessiveness. Then they kissed, a long languid exchange, taboo between a mother and son, on display for all.

There was a small round of applause before the couples in the small audience began to lose themselves in their own activities.
The Mother/Son Book Club Pt. 02
Book 2 - A Mother's Sacred Duty - Raquel and Elliot.
Book 2 - A Mother's Sacred Duty - Raquel and Elliot

"Elliot," Raquel called, her voice quavering just slightly. "Can you please come here?"

Elliot, her son, walked up the stairs with a bit of hesitation. He knew that tone, and it generally only came up when his mother wanted to give him a Talking To. Still, there was something else about her voice that made his heart flutter. It was getting more difficult by the day to live with her. The first reason for this was that she always seemed to be finding small things to nit pick him about, usually some perceived moral failing of his.

As Elliot finished entered the room, he was forcefully reminded of the second reason. Raquel had her light blonde hair up in a messy ponytail and was dressed in well-fitted if simple jeans and a plain orange shirt, her typical cleaning outfit. She was among the most sexy women Elliot had ever seen. Even in such typical clothing, Raquel's curves could not be hidden, and to her son they were anything but "matronly".

Raquel's ass filled out her jeans and her breasts pushed out at the plain cotton of her shirt. He knew that she most likely wore plain white panties and a utilitarian wired bra under her outfit, from having caught glances of her getting dressed and undressed during the day. Even then, the bra could not completely hide her large nipples. Elliot caught himself staring and knew that he was going to be hard very quickly unless he focused on something else.

Fortunately his mother's blue eyes burning into him drew his attention back into the present.

"What is it, Mom?"

It was clear that his mother had been "cleaning" in his room. She did keep most of the house in perfect condition, but Elliot didn't want to give her any excuse to violate his limited privacy. He swept and cleaned his room but that didn't always deter Raquel from snooping.

"Explain this, young man," Raquel said, her voice tense and upset.

Oh fuck, Elliot thought. He had either left his computer unlocked or his mother had guessed his password. It didn't matter, in any case, because he had been stupid enough to leave up the last thing he had been looking at. Pornhub. And even more embarrassingly, it had been to a specific favorite video of his: "Busty MILF Rewards Stepson's Good Grades".

"Uh," Elliot said, defeated "I was looking at porn, mom."

"That much is clear. Were you...were you masturbating?"

"Jesus, mom!"

"Don't take the Lord's name in vain and don't talk back! Just answer the question. Now."

"Y-yes, mom. I was watching the video and...masturbating."

The whole thing was humiliating to Elliot, but what made it even worse was that the MILF in question, at least on a superficial level, resembled his own mother. There was no way whatsoever that she could have missed it. Thankfully, she did not mention it.

Raquel huffed, as if this was the worst possible thing she could have found. Elliot loved his mother and knew that she loved him as well, but her expectations, especially recently, had been unrealistic. He was willing to go to church, to help out around the house, and he honestly enjoyed talking to his mother, especially as his father tended to treat both his son and wife with a great deal of coldness recently. However, asking him not to look at porn...

"Well, it ends now young man. I know that you need the internet connection to do your homework, but from now on you leave your system unlocked, and you never delete your browser cache. Otherwise I will have to assume the worst and have a...a talk with your father."

Elliot winced. He did not want his father involved in any of this. Despite being a the Reverend at the local non-denominational church, Elliot knew that his father regularly looked at porn himself, having helped with repairing the laptop. Usually some kind of strange naughty grandmother sites. That didn't matter, however. Elliot feared that his father was likely to kick him out, if only to preserve the appearance of righteousness. He could be kind, but he could also be unforgiving and difficult to read.

"All right," Elliot said. His mother nodded, curtly and turned to leave his room. She was severe, but she didn't stay angry for long. Elliot reasoned that things could have been worse. He could live without pornography, after all. He had an imagination. It wasn't like his mother had banned...

"And no more masturbation, either! Its a sin and I won't have it under my roof! I'll be checking and believe me, young man, I know the signs!"

Then, ignoring Elliot's open-mouthed reaction, she left his room and shut the door behind her firmly. He wondered if any of his friends would let him move in with them when he was inevitably kicked out.

* * *

"I don't know, Margaret," Raquel said. "I feel like I was overly harsh. You...you know that in my youth, I was a bit...a bit wild. I'm not proud of it, but I know how young people's hormone's can be.

Margaret nodded sympathetically. Raquel again thanked her lucky stars that she ended up getting along so well with her mother-in-law. So many of her friends had ended up seeming to always be in conflict with their husband's mothers. Margaret, however, not only approved of Raquel but also understood that Todd, her own son, could, at times, be a very difficult man. Of course, Margaret also loved and spoiled her grandson as well.

"Raquel," Margaret said calmly, "I do understand why you wouldn't want Elliot to look at porn. It can show so many unfortunate things, especially to a young man, and create such terrible expectations. But boys and girls both need some degree of release. Perhaps turning a blind eye would be best, in this case..."

"How can I do that? Just last week, Todd was preaching about the evils of masturbation, especially when boys did it. It was a 'waste of holy seed'. It seemed a bit odd to me at the time, but if what he says is correct, then I would be a terrible hypocrite to allow our son to...to jerk off."

Margaret looked at her daughter-in-law's blue eyes and saw a combination of fear and anxiety. Raquel had, indeed, had a bit of a wild streak in high school and college, but she had taken her return to faith very seriously. She saw herself as an important role-model within her husband's congregation, and seemed to always be anxious for the state of her son's soul. Unfortunately she also became a bit too uptight in general. Todd probably wasn't having enough sex with her, perhaps even withholding sex from her on purpose. Margaret, understanding both her grandson and son better than Raquel did, decided that it was time to take a risk.

"Well, you have a point, Raquel, but Elliot will find this to be impossible. He will need to masturbate, or find a young woman to engage in intercourse with."

Raquel's eyes grew wide with shock and then anger and, just for a second, jealousy. Margaret suppressed a smile. Her son had most definitely selected an appropriate wife, in Raquel.

Raquel, however, was too panicked to notice her mother-in-law's reaction. Thoughts of her own youthful escapades with her friends Gina and Linda ran through her head. The things they had done seemed harmless and fun at the times, but now she felt differently. She had already endangered her own soul, and she feared that her own son would suffer for her sins as well.

"I...I can't let my son have premarital sex," Raquel said, "and...and he's much too young to be married. He...he's barely more than a boy!"

Margaret did not remind Raquel that her son was very much eighteen and an adult in the eyes of the law, nor did she remark that Elliot was a fit and handsome young man. Raquel knew these things well but had to accept them for herself.

"Well," Margaret said, drawing things out with a bit of false reticence. "There is another way but...no...you wouldn't be interested..."

"I'm desperate, Margaret."

"Desperate enough to commit a lesser sin to prevent your son from committing a much greater one?"

Raquel stopped and swallowed, feeling her mouth go dry. She didn't know what was being proposed, but she knew that it would be serious. Still, if one had to choose between lesser and greater sin...

"Margaret, I'll try anything if it...if it protects my son. You understand that, right?"

Margaret smiled. She did understand Raquel's motherly protective urges, as well as her more lecherous ones.

"Well, do you remember what happened to Lot's wife?"

Raquel nodded.

"She was disobedient and turned to look back at the city and...and she was turned to salt."

"And what happened then?"

"Lot went with his daughters and lived in a cave...he was depressed and drank too much and..."

"And?"

"A-and he didn't let his daughters leave so they couldn't get married and have children."

Margaret egged her on: "So what did they do?"

"They...um...they got their father drunk and...and they slept with him." Raquel paused, as realization set in, "Are you suggesting what I think you are?"

Margaret neither nodded nor shook her head, and Raquel felt her face grew hot.

"Raquel," Margaret said, "I'm not suggesting anything so extreme. Certainly not now. But, perhaps, given that he has no other course of relief, you could provide it for him."

"How?"

"Don't play innocent with me, girl," Margaret said with a smirk. "You have soft and lovely hands, as well as beautiful lips. I'm sure your grip is firm and your mouth is warm and tight. Elliot wouldn't be the first young man to experience those, would he?"

"I...I mean...no, but...but...wouldn't it be cheating? I took vows to your son, Margaret. I...I can't just betray him like that."

"Raquel, you took him to be your lawful husband, and you are his wife. But since then, you've become a mother, and I think we both know that there are certain responsibilities that override all others. We must take care of our children, no matter the cost."

"But...I can't believe that this..."

"I understand that you're reluctant, Raquel, but that's because you're a good woman. Still, think of it this way: You will be sinning so your son doesn't have to."

"But won't he be...implicated in my behavior?"

"Perhaps, but he's a good boy, in general. He's quite obedient to you and his father. If you take the lead, then you will take the sin upon yourself. He will be receiving pleasure passively, so his sin will be limited. Think of it like speeding to get a man to the hospital. You're breaking the law but only for the greater good."

"The...the greater good?" Raquel couldn't believe what she was hearing. That being said, now that the subject had been broached, she couldn't help but think about Elliot. What would he look like nude? Would his cock be very thick and hard? What would it taste like? A million repressed urges flew through her mind. She felt herself losing her moral tether.

"And it isn't like you would be enjoying it, is it dear?" Margaret added, noticing the hesitation and again suppressing a smile.

"N-no! Of course not!"

"Naturally...if you did, it wouldn't be that bad of you. Not in my opinion, anyway. One should enjoy doing a good deed, after all."

"Margaret...I have to ask you...why did you...I mean how do you know of this...this solution? Is this something that you've actually done?"

Margaret smiled and sipped her tea for a long moment.

"That's a topic for later, after you've resolved the crisis in your home. But, if you relieve your son's needs tonight and tell me all about it," Margaret winked, "then I might tell you what you want to know."

Raquel had no answer for that and sipped her own cooling tea. After a few moments, Margaret brought up the upcoming interfaith bake sale as though they hadn't been talking about jerking off their son/grandson respectively, but Raquel remained distracted. Could she do it? Would she?

If it was to protect her son, was there anything that she wouldn't do? Raquel couldn't have admitted it, but a resolution grew within herself. She decided, almost unconsciously, that she would talk with her son as soon as she got home that afternoon. This would be dealt with.

As Magaret pointed out, if she happened to enjoy doing a good deed for someone else, where was the harm in that? Being of service was the essence of her faith, after all.

* * *

Elliot walked down the road, trying to figure out how to deal with his life. Things at home had become unmanageable. His mother had finally gone too far. He could go to church weekly. He could help with organising the church events.He could do the seemingly endless chores at home. He could even avoid dating until after he left for college, despite being interested in quite a few girls at school. But to stop masturbating, cold turkey? He wasn't sure he would last a week. In fact, last night had been bad enough. He'd managed to distract himself but his mother had walked past him in the hall. A perfectly normal experience, but she was wearing a silky blue nightgown. It covered everything but it concealed nothing. All of Raquel's many curves were on display, stretching and moving under the sheer fabric. Even her nipples were obvious.

Elliot had narrowly avoided jerking off that night, and he woke up the following morning, balls aching. It was only a matter of time before he had a wet dream, and his mother would be looking for the results. She would almost certainly interpret any evidence of his cum as his breaking her prohibition. It was, to be perfectly honest, an impossible task to avoid.

As Elliot opened the door, he reached his decision. He would talk to his mother, apologize, but tell her that he had to move out. He would need to find a place to live for just under a year. It would be difficult, but he could probably stay at his friend Vincent's house. Vincent's mother Gina was old friends with Raquel, and he knew how severe Elliot's family could be.

Still, it would be difficult being separated from his mother, who he had always been close to. She hadn't always been this severe or strange, and for a moment, Elliot found himself growing nostalgic for the gentle and warm woman who had raised him.

Raquel heard the door open and called out to her son from the kitchen.

"I'm in here, Elliot. Come and get something to eat."

When Elliot entered the kitchen he was greeted with his mother's radiant smile. Any more it seemed like she didn't do that enough. He worried about her being happy. He worried even more about what he regarded as abandoning her. Still, it would be for the best. As he sat at the kitchen table, his mother set a plate down in front of him. A BLT sandwich, his favorite. He smiled and decided to eat it before he would broach the subject of moving. No sense ruining this, too.

"So, I've been giving some thought to our talk, Elliot. From the other day."

Elliot almost choked on his sandwich, but swallowed. He wondered if she was about to put more restrictions on him.

"Y-yeah. Me too mom, I..."

"Wait," she said, with sudden firmness, then again, this time more calm. "Wait...until I'm done, okay, sweetie? I was...I was cruel to you. I apologize. A young man is not a machine that can simply be switched off. You...you have needs, and you need release."

Elliot sighed with relief. This was embarrassing but for his mother to admit that he needed to cum was a big step forward.

"Does that mean that it's all right for me to...you know...masturbate?" Elliot asked hopefully. To his disappointment, Raquel shook her head sharply, but...was that a small smile at the corner of her mouth? Elliot decided to wait and see what would happen. He could not have expected what she would say next.

"You cannot masturbate. That's the sin of Onan. Your father...well, I know he wouldn't approve. We have to keep a godly house and not just for him, but for all of us. You're a healthy virile boy. You're far too young for marriage. You need to live your life, but you still need release... So..."

"So?"

"So...I'm going to help you...with your needs."

Elliot stopped eating and stared dumbly at his mother, blinking. She could not mean what he thought she meant.

"How...um...exactly?"

"I'm going to...relieve your urges...with my hand," Raquel said, adding "As many times as it takes. I know that the young can be...insatiable."

Elliot licked his lips.

"Really?"

"Yes, really. Now finish your sandwich, young man. We don't have a lot of time before your father gets home."

* * *

As she walked upstairs to her son's room, Raquel knew that she had to keep this from her husband. Todd wasn't truly interested in laying with her, not any more, but that doesn't mean that he would approve of this. Well, it didn't matter. She was doing this for the whole family. It was the lesser of two sins. If he never found out, then she would never need to explain herself. Besides, her own mother-in-law encouraged this. That must mean something.

Raquel had told Elliot to go upstairs, undo his belt and pants, and wait. She wondered why she had done that. She wondered if it was just so she could see her son's cock as soon as she entered the room. It could have been that. Lord knew that she loved to look at cock. She loved everything about cock. She loved feeling the hard smoothness in her hand, the manly scent, and most of all she loved having cock inside her, stretching her out, making her gag, even if it hurt.

Especially if it hurt.

Raquel stopped on the stairs and got her breathing back under control. No. This was not about her. This was about her son. He was suffering and a sinner and only she could absolve him. With new determination she continued up the stairs, quickly went into the bathroom to gather her best body lotion and headed towards Elliot's room.

As she opened her son's door, without knocking, she realized that despite all of her life experience, she was not ready for this. Her son, sat on the bed, still dressed for the most part. He met her eyes but then looked down, shyly, in a way that made her want to rush up and kiss him. The only thing that stopped her from thinking of him as "just her boy" was the fact that, as per her orders, he had his belt loose, fly open, and his cock out.

And what a cock it was. It stood tall and proud, thick enough but not too much so. Raquel had been a bit of a size queen in her youth but as she had matured she had learned to appreciate almost all cocks. Had she not found the Lord, she would have spent at least an hour of each day, just looking at pornography, imagining each man's cock being rammed inside of her.

Raquel was, after all, much like her son. An insatiable sinner. She licked her lips, subconsciously relishing the upcoming task. She closed the door behind her. She knew this was wrong, but she had to do it.

She had to. For her son's soul.

For the first time since she had been a virgin, Raquel had no idea what to do with a man's cock. She almost laughed, but then looked Elliot's face. He looked at her with trust, and expectation. He needed her, and she smiled gently before sitting next to him.

"Please...um, look away, Elliot," Raquel said. Truthfully, she wanted his eyes on her, but she knew that she would already enjoy this too much. If their eyes met, the temptation to escalate and sin beyond the point of return will be harder to resist.

Raquel took a deep breath, then squirted some of the lotion on her right hand. Then, slowly, she reached into his lap and touched her son's cock. He groaned, and she almost jerked her hand back. Instead, she carefully, slowly, spread the lotion all over her son's cock. She knew how important lubrication could be.

"Fuuuuck, mom, that feels so good! I'm sorry..I didn't mean to swear I just..."

Rather than be angry, Raquel was gratified by her son's reaction. Still, swearing wouldn't do. He needed to keep his mind on something else while she did her work. Maybe he could..
"You...you should pray..."

"P-pray?" Elliot asked, confused and unable to focus.

"Yes! Pray while I...while I'm touching you. It will make this...easier and...remind you why I'm doing it."

Elliot couldn't imagine how that would make this easier on him. He was already having trouble thinking.

"What should I pray about?" Elliot said, before moaning slightly.

"Forgiveness. Not because you're bad, but...because we all sin. Confess your thoughts and fantasies. Admit to what's driving you to...to masturbate. Then, maybe when...when I finish you, those thoughts will go away."

Had he been thinking clearly, Elliot would have doubted that, but he wasn't, and he just wanted to make his mother happy. For one thing, he loved her. For another, he didn't want to do anything that would stop her beautiful hand going up and down.

"All right," Elliot said, "I can do that. Um...I...I look at a lot of porn...and that...that makes me so hard that I can't help but jerk off."

Raquel ignored her own breathing speeding up in sync with her hand.

"What kind of porn do you look at?"

Elliot tried, in that moment, to think about some of the women in his videos jerking him off, rather than his mother, but the truth was that none of them held a candle to her. She was gorgeous and sexy and forbidden and...breathing quite hard. He risked stealing a glance at her, and all the signs were there. Her lips were parted, eyes slightly unfocused, a flush was on her cheek.

His mother could not hide her incredible arousal, and all from jerking him off. Elliot had never really thought of himself as someone who could provoke that kind of desire in a woman as mature and beautiful as Raquel.

For the first time, Elliot began to understand something about his mother that he hadn't seen before. He felt naive. She enjoyed this as much as he did, but she couldn't admit it. His mother wanted him. But she felt guilty about it. If he pointed it out, if he confronted her with it, she would stop. She would run away again. She was already afraid of her sexuality and her desire. He did not know why, but he knew that.

Elliot would have to be at least a little subtle.

"It's really bad, Mom," Elliot said. "I'm sorry. I...I don't think I should tell you."

Raquel almost swore in frustration. He had to tell her. She had to know

"You have to be specific. You can't be forgiven unless you're very specific. I'm not asking young man, I'm telling you."

"Yes, Mom," Elliot said, glad he was facing away from her so she could not see his smile. He moaned again, unable to control it, then he noted that when he did she gave him a little squeeze. She was rewarding him for making those noises. Did she enjoy hearing him moan? He was learning all kinds of things about his mother. In any case, he had to say something, but where to start. "Mostly, I try to look at...at normal stuff. Cute girls, you know, college aged. It's wrong, I know but...I watch them getting fucked by these guys, and imagine I was them. They're young and pretty, and they suck the guy's cocks and they look up with this innocent expression. It turns me on so much..."

Raquel huffed and her eyes flashed with anger. Of course it would be some young sluts stealing her son. They hadn't even been touched by gravity yet, and they knew how to use their bodies. It was fitting punishment, Raquel knew. She would have pursued a boy like her own son. She would have fucked him so well that he wouldn't ever look for a different girl. But something occurred to her. She sped up just a little bit to throw Elliot off, heard her son's adorable whimper, and then asked her question.

"And? You said you 'try' to look at normal stuff. What do you end up looking at?"

"Ahh...Mom...it's so bad. I can't...I shouldn't..."

"Young man if you don't tell me this instant I'll stop..."

Elliot barely surpassed a laugh. His mother was so aroused that there was no way she'd stop. She couldn't stop herself now. He wouldn't hold back on her. She'd asked for it, after all.

"There are these women...not girls...but women. They're just...beautiful...but normal. Does that make sense?"

"What does that mean? Beautiful but normal?"

"They could be anyone. And...usually in these videos, they're dressed pretty normally, for part of them. Like a skirt and a blouse and maybe some high heels. Sometimes their clothes are tight. But other than that, it could be anyone on the street. Just...a beautiful woman. Not a girl though."

His mother's hand had slowed down, but she wasn't tormenting him. She was interested. She had to know.

"What's the difference between a girl and a woman? To you, I mean?"

"Well. A girl is like my age, or in college. She...she doesn't know much more than me. She might have sex before, but she doesn't really know what she wants yet. She's...innocent."

"And a woman?"

"A woman is older. She's lived a little. Probably had a lot of sex. Usually she's had at least one child. She's curvy, usually, with wide hips and big breasts."

Raquel's hand sped up again, and so did her breathing.

"S-so. When you look at these women, you know that they've had children?"

"Yes."

"And it excites you?"

"Yes?"

"Because you know that they could have your children too?"

"No. Well, yes, I mean, obviously knowing a woman could have your baby is hot but...but..."

"But?"

"But its not just that. It's that kind of motherly care that only they know how to give. And...they love the young guys in these videos. They care for them and treat them better than their girlfriends or even wives would...because..."

"Because?"

"Because in the videos, the women are the guy's moms or step-moms. They only want what's best for their sons and they give everything for them. They touch them and suck them and fuck them and get jealous when..."

But Raquel's mind had switched off. She could feel her pupils dilate. She lost all remaining focus and her hand moved on its own, speeding faster and faster. The obscenely wet noises of her hand filled the quiet room. She knew how to bring a man to orgasm with every part of her body, especially if she cared about him. And she dearly cared for Elliot, didn't she?

The next thought came without her willing it: Elliot watched videos where women pretended to be the mothers of the young men they were fucking. He loved that. He couldn't get enough of it.

Raquel was startled out of her daze by the feel of her son's hot cum spraying out, messily, hitting her arm and spilling all over her hand.

Her hand was drenched in her son's cum. She stared at it for a long second as Elliot tried to recover. Then, it happened. It was slight, nothing like what sex would do for her, but it was real. She felt her core twitch and she let out a single low moan. The only sign that she had just experienced an orgasm from jerking off her own son.

It was too much. Rachel fled the room swiftly,

At a safe distance, further down the hallway, she shouted, "I'll be back later tonight."

When she was alone in the bathroom, she stared at herself in the mirror, for a long time.

"You're a slut," she said, with real venom. But it was although the reflection just smirked back at her.

Yes, she was a slut. Yes, she was good at pleasing men. Yes, she loved her husband. But she loved her son most of all.

Raquel brought her hand, still dripping with her son's virile cum. She had just intended to smell it, having gone so long without having any, but before she even thought about doing differently, her tongue had shot out and tasted it.

Rich. Salty. Perfect.

Raquel washed her hands quickly, unable to meet her own eyes in the mirror again.

* * *

Raquel did not return to her son's room later that evening. This wasn't surprising to Elliot, although it was disappointing. His mother was honest and forthright, but she was also clearly confused. He was, too. Despite being younger, he felt conflicted.

Elliot had experienced his greatest fantasy granted by the woman that he loved the most in the world, but he was concerned that he had taken advantage of her. For most of his life she had been kind, loving, and fun. She was still kind and loving, but over the last few years she'd grown different. Firmer, more severe, both on Elliot and herself. And for the first time, Elliot had seen the level of desire that existed beneath the surface of his mother. Now, he wanted to see more.

No, he needed to see more.

Elliot spent that night awake, hoping against hope that she would show up at his door, incredibly hard, but somehow also truly satisfied for the first time. He did not masturbate, because she had forbidden it. But he would hold her to her end of that deal.

When he came downstairs on that Saturday morning, he found his mother making breakfast, but she would not smile or meet his eyes. His father, Todd, was calmly eating, seemingly unaware of his wife's mood.

"Good morning, son," Todd said.

"Hey, Dad," Elliot said, sitting down. Before he had a chance to say anything else, his mother had placed a plate of pancakes and sausage in front of him, before disappearing upstairs with suspicious haste.

"Any plans today?" his father asked.

"Um, not particularly. Maybe seeing about doing some work over at Vincent's house. Mrs. Harrington wants to make a lot of changes to her back yard and garden, and she'd rather pay us to do it than a landscaper."

"Hmm. That's good of you. It's terrible what happened to her husband. I know it's been six months but it has to have been tough for her. Her kids, too. In any case, I'm going out of town until the end of the week with your grandmother. A friend of mine from seminary is very ill. I'm going to visit him and we're going help his family a bit as they're going through some difficulties. You'll be alone here with your mother. Are you all right with that?"

Elliot was both very much in favor of this and terrified of it. But he couldn't very well explain to his father that he wanted to fuck his mother.

"I...yeah. Is there anything you need me to take care of?"

"Yes, actually. Your mother hasn't been in a great frame of mind recently, and some of that is definitely my fault. That being said, you don't need to worry about that. I'd like to to go out of your way to spend time with her. You always make her feel better."

"Um, sure, Dad. That's fine. I...um...I'm worried she's mad at me, though."

Elliot expected his father to ask him why, or tell him to be a better son, but he did not.

"Well, I think you'll find that she's just...confused. Sometimes your mother avoids conflict even when the outcome could be positive. Maybe she thinks you're mad at her, too."

The rest of the meal was eaten in amicable silence, and his father left immediately when he was finished. Elliot made up his mind to speak with his mother later, when she had cooled off a bit. He did want to spend time with her, but he decided that he could not be alone with his mother when she was so clearly avoiding him, and maybe angry with him. So he texted his friends Vincent and Bleys. As luck would have it, Gina, Vincent's mother, was in fact interested in paying her son's friends to help with the landscaping and gardening tasks, like digging holes, laying sod and mulch, and even planting trees and bushes.

Gina was also petite, curvy, and funny, a welcome change from the colder atmosphere at his house. The boys worked hard in the spring son, drank lemonade, and got everything done. By the time Elliot returned home, later that afternoon, he was still nervous, but more confident. He felt, strangely, like he was in control of the situation, even though he really wasn't sure what the situation truly was.

"Mom? I'm home," Elliot said as he entered the house. The door was unlocked.

"Hi, sweetie. I'm in here...on the couch."

Elliot was pleased to hear his mother's voice. It was more like it had been many years ago. Giving. Welcoming. Even eager. When he entered the living room, he was shocked by what he found.

Despite it still being daytime, Raquel was dressed in sleep wear. No, that wasn't right. Elliot had seen enough porn to recognize lingerie for what it was, and these were clothes for women to be fucked in.

Raquel sat demurely, legs together, stretched out comfortably. She had clearly been reading, and she was still wearing her glasses. Her long blonde hair was down, which was a rarity any more. Although Elliot had no real understanding of it, he could see that his mother was wearing makeup. Her style was typically very restrained and modest, only as much as society expected, but tonight her eyes were very smokey, and her lips a much deeper shade of red than normal.

The black silk teddy she wore covered her chest, but was tight, pushing her breasts up and over the fabric. Elliot wondered what her breasts would look like. If he tore the bodice open, would they bounce? He could clearly see her large, tightened nipples through the fabric. Would she squeal if he took one into his mouth? The teddy only extended barely halfway down her smooth, pale thigh. Elliot wondered if she wore any panties beneath the silky sheer material. He knew that his mother had waited for him like this for a long time. God, this was so wrong

Taking in the entire image, Elliot realized that his mother looked like sin, in human form.

"Hi, hon. You must have had a rough day. Come sit with mommy."

Raquel sat up, making space for him, and patted the cushion beside her. He hadn't heard heard his mother refer to herself as 'mommy' in years, and he realized with some shame that he was harder than he could ever recall being.

"I...I'm still kind of sweaty."

"I've never minded a man who smells of work. Or play. Please, sit."

Elliot sat next to her obedient, but couldn't think of thing to do or say. His hands wanted to be on his mother but knew that wasn't what she wanted. So he maintained his awkward silence, until his mother broke it.

"Your father won't be home until next week. So...I can relieve you right here. If you want. I...if you need it, I mean. This is just...just for your relief."

"Y-yeah. My relief."

"S-so, if you want mommy to stop, you just have to say so, understand? I've been harsh with you, and I never asked you and...well...I'm worried that I let my own lust make me a bit too forward."

Elliot, faced with the idea of losing sexual access to his mother, was finally able to meet her eye.

"I need this, mom. So badly."

"All right. Hmm. Would...um...it help you if you had...some encouragement?"

What would he need besides her sweet hand?

"Encouragement?"

"Yes. You were looking at pornography before, and I denied you that. Because, of course, it's wrong to look at that. But...I mean...I think I resemble at least a few of the women in those videos of yours."

"Mom...you're the hottest woman I've ever seen," Elliot said, before he could stop himself. To his surprise, he saw a charming blush spread across his mother's face and chest.

"Well then. Maybe you'd like to see more of me?"

As Elliot watched, unbelieving, Raquel pushed first one strap of her teddy down, then the other. The tight nature of the bodice supported itself, until she pulled the flexible fabric down, and for the first time in a very long time, he saw his mother's breasts. They were quite large, and while they did have a slight upturn, they also sagged quite a bit. To him, they were perfect. Before he could ask, Raquel took her son's hand in her own, and put it on her breast. He held it there, on her, but did nothing further until she pushed it into her, harder than he would have thought. Then he got the idea, and began to play with her breasts, kneading and squeezing and teasing the nipple. He was lost in the sensation, but he did hear the moan his mother attempted to conceal.

Raquel knew that she had gone too far to stop now, and reached over, unzipping her son's jeans, pulling his cock out. He groaned at the slightest touch and she smiled, before biting her lip as her son tweaked her nipple.

"Is this the first time you've touched a woman's breasts?"

"Y-yes. Am I doing it wrong?"

"No, love. You are doing it just right. Do you know why?"

"No."

"Because you followed my example, and because you're listening to me. To what I want. If you listen and pay attention to a woman, she'll reward you. Do you want a reward?"

"Oh, fuck. This feels so good, mom. Thank you."

Raquel laughed, a deep, throaty sound. It made his cock twitch in his mother's hand. She leaned over and kissed him on the lips, still slowly moving her hand up and down. Elliot was torn between needing her to move faster and wanting to draw this out.

Raquel's tongue slipped into her son's mouth. He let her guide him, teach him, and eventually he began to realize that he was kissing his mother just how she wanted and needed. Gently, she moved his hands off of her tits, and while he wanted to resist, he did not. Then she withdrew from the long kiss.

"I need to make you happy, Elliot. I need you to be mine. Do you understand?"

Elliot did not, not truly, but he wanted to be hers.

"Yes, mom."

"Good boy," she said, favoring him with a wicked smile. Then, slowly, she moved her head down towards his crotch. Before he even realized what was happening, he felt her soft lips wrap themselves around his cock head. The heat and tightness of her mouth was almost too much for him. He cried out.

"Oh fuck, mom!"

Raquel didn't stop. She'd always been known as a good cocksucker, and if she was going to relieve her son's needs now, she was going to do it right. No little whore he met in college was going to steal him away from her. Nor would she lose him to sin. She would take care of him in the way that only a mother could. That only a slut like her could.

If she could not change her nature, she could at least own it.

Raquel was merciless in her attentions, moving up and down, using her tongue like a weapon, showing every bit of her experience to her boy, the man in her life who deserved all of her love. She had been withholding lately, she saw that now. She would not be any more.

And, if a mother was demonstrating such love, wouldn't it be right for a son to return it? She paused for a moment, breathing hard. She never did go easy on herself when she went down on a man.

"I...I need a favor from you, Elliot."

"What...whatever you need, mom, I'll do it."

"I...I still sin, too. I'm awful, and I know it's wrong, but I still do it. I have needs, just like you."

"How can I help?"

Elliot wanted his mother's mouth to return to his cock, but more even than that he wanted to make her as happy as she was making him.

"I...I masturbate. I'm such a hypocrite. I...I need help."

"Help stopping?"

"No. I need you to take care of me the way I'm caring for you."

Raquel paused, altering her position, pulling her teddy up. She wore no panties, and Elliot caught a brief flash of her blonde bush before she knelt to his side, on the sofa, and bent back to take him into her mouth again.

"You want to help you cum?"

Raquel nodded briefly, eyes hazed over with lust.

"Yes, baby, that's exactly what I need. Finger mommy, so she doesn't sin any more."

Then, Raquel returned her attentions to her son's cock. Although he found it hard to focus, Elliot realized that he could, from this position, fairly easily reach around his mother's shorter frame and behind her. He was gentle and hesitant at first, touching his mothers labia and marveling at how swollen and wet she was. She was ready for him.

"Please, Elliot, honey, mommy can't wait!"

Raquel sounded slutty and desperate even to her own ears, and the spike of shame in her heart hurt her, but she could not stop now. She was more aroused and needy than she could ever remember being in the past.
Elliot pushed his finger inside of his mother's pussy, slowly at first, but then more forcefully. God she was so tight and wet and hot. What would that feel like wrapped around his cock? What would it feel like to cum inside of her?

Raquel had already taken her son back inside her mouth and he felt rather than heard her moan. She moved him deeper now, as if rewarding him for his attentions. The truth was, she was under his power as much as he was under hers. She knew that had he but asked, she would have done anything for him. Anything for her son, her lover. Anything for his love and his cock.

God, he even fingered her perfectly. Slow at first, then steady, then he varied his cadence. She squeezed her legs together for extra sensation, and he sped up, more forceful, almost taking her with his hand. He was so strong! Raquel had been so close to cumming but had second thoughts. This was far beyond the justification she shared with her mother-in-law, but she was in heat! It would take the merest sensation to send her over the edge. She remained there, on the razors edge of pleasure, unknowingly stopping the motions of her head, mouth, and tongue, although his cock remained in her mouth.

"God mom, your pussy feels incredible," Elliot said.

Hearing her own son say such forbidden things pushed her beyond the point of no return. Had her mouth not been full she would have screamed.

Raquel's whole body shook and tensed and quivered, and Elliot watched, transfixed. He had given his mother an orgasm. Still, she only stopped briefly before taking him deep, even into her throat. The gagging noise almost took him over the edge.

"Mom, I'm going to...if you do this...I'll...I don't want you to choke...or get you messy..."

Raquel's voice sounded again, as she briefly stopped. Elliot could hear desire in her tone, but also kindness, and love.

"I know, Elliot. Go ahead. Make a mess of mommy's face. Just like you did to her hand last night. I want your cum all over me, baby."

Then she returned her mouth to his cock, and took him deep again. Elliot lost control. Raquel felt her son's cock spasm right before he began to cum, and she pulled back just enough so the first two spurts went in her mouth. All the better for her to savor him right away. Then she withdrew from him completely but kept pumping. He came again and again on her face and hair and chest. She needed him to. She needed him to see her like this, possessed completely. She needed to give herself to him. Finally, he stopped, and fell back, limp, gasping.

Raquel looked at her son, eyes half-closed from pleasure and the exertion, and smiled. He truly was handsome after he came, and he was clearly...relieved. There was no way he would sin tonight.

"Goooood boy," she said, almost purring. "Now why don't I get cleaned up and make us some dinner. You can get cleaned up and take a nap."

* * *

The rest of the evening was, weirdly, very domestic. Raquel got dressed in her more typical jeans and simple blouse and made Elliot dinner. They ate together, laughing and interacting in a very normal way. Then they watched television together, cuddling a bit closer than normal. He dared to touch her again, palming her breast and teasing her nipple with his thumb. She did nothing, pretending not to notice, but he could hear her breathing speed up and thought he had heard a slight moan.

Later, Raquel came to him in his bed. She was a bit more causal, even businesslike about getting him off, and only used her hand, but she did not attempt to hide how into it she was, nor did she stop him from grasping her thigh or touching her pussy. Hearing her hoarse whisper of "Cum for mommy, sweetheart," was enough to bring him over the edge.

Despite this, Elliot was still aroused when she he watched her leave, dreamlike, from his room. He almost called out to her, asked her to come back, begged her for forgiveness. With relief came clarity, and with that came shame and guilt. Despite it being her idea to start with, he felt like he was taking advantage of her own guilt and repressed needs. He did not call to her, however, and he knew that he was too weak to do so. He loved his mother. He would die for her. But he would never do anything that would prevent him from being her lover.

* * *

The following day was Sunday, and Elliot attended church with his mother, as normal. The only part that was unusual was his father's absence. With him out of town, a local deacon took over. He was a friendly man, not as good of a speaker as Elliot's father, but fortunately he was also brief and to the point. It seemed to be over almost too quickly. After the service, there was a small lunch in a meeting hall at the back of the church, a regular occurrence in which Raquel and many other parishioners brought homemade food. As always, he helped with serving the food and cleaning up afterwards. He could feel his mother's eyes on him as he worked, and he knew that she wanted more from him than just his fingers.

The meal and the clean-up were both done with quickly, and soon, Elliot found himself alone again with his mother in their house that suddenly seemed much too small for the both of them and their desires. His mother was deeply tense and conflicted, and he knew it, but he did not know how to broach the subject. He decided to put off asking her to "relieve" him and take a nap, as he was suddenly exhausted.

Elliot awoke to his mother's voice calling him from her room. She was somewhat eager, but he knew this would not be as simple as her stroking him off or him fondling her. Something was about to happen, or not happen, and Elliot needed to know what.

Because he knew, in his heart, if he had the slightest opportunity and he could do so without hurting her, he would fuck his mother.

He rose quickly, but did not put on a shirt or pants as he might have normally. Elliot had never been very confident in his body, but as he entered his mother's room, her eyes burned all over him. He put her into heat, now, and he smiled, just slightly at the knowledge that he had this power. He sat next to her on the bed. They were silent for a long moment before she took his hand and spoke

"I want more than this. I thought I could alleviate both of our sin alone but...I'm afraid that I'm not that kind of woman, Elliot."

"What do you mean?"

"I very much want you to take me. As a man takes a woman. As...as a husband takes a wife. But that would be wrong."

"Very wrong," Elliot agreed, his voice growing hoarse.

"And I'm weak. So...I think...we should pray, together, to...to stop this from going too far..."

Without saying more, his mother stood, turned and knelt before the bed, head down, eyes closed, elbows on its edge. Elliot stood as well, but walked behind her. He observed his mother, almost dispassionately, the way her body moved and settled under the sheer fabric of her night gown. He grew hard, knowing that she knew how he saw her. He consumed her with his gaze. His breathing grew quick and he needed her again.

"Our father who art in heaven," she started, not waiting for him. He knelt behind her, already knowing what it is he would do.

"Hallowed be thy name," she continued. He trailed the fingers of one hand, starting at the fabric-covered small of her back, all the way up to the nape of her neck. She shuddered.

"Thy kingdom...come." Elliot smiled as her voice quavered, and leaned into her until he knew she could feel his breath on her neck

"Thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven," she said, squirming against her own will. He knew that she was in conflict now, wanton in her urges, but close to asking him to stop. He would if she did, so he could not allow that. Elliot kissed her softly on her neck, and she groaned.

"Satisfy this day our hungers," she said, and Elliot smiled, before nipping her neck and setting his hands gently on her hips.

"And forgive us our sins," she said. Elliot ran his hands up her sides before setting them on her shoulders, then pushed both straps of the night gown off of them.

"As we forgive those who sin with us," she said, as her son pulled her gown down and off of her chest. Her breath caught as his strong hands seized her breasts without hesitation or gentleness, squeezing and kneading them. For a moment she lost all thought, but then continued.

"Lead us into temptation," Raquel whispered as she felt her son's cock grinding against her back. He was impossibly, perfectly hard.

"But deliver us to evil," she said, as Elliots hand wove its way down her chest, forcing her gown further down.

"For I am thy kingdom." Elliot's hand found its goal, his mother's pussy. He did not force his fingers inside of her but merely pushed as she ground into him, toying gently with her clitoris. She gasped, and leaned back into her son, who kissed and bit at her neck.

"And...and you are my power, and glory," Raquel said, all thought leaving her, all focus on her sons hand, willing it to keep going to bring her closer. She was unable to speak or think or prevent what was happening to her. He was giving her what she needed and had he stopped she would have begged him like the slut she was to finish her. But he did not stop and she came, crying out again and again, until she fell limp in her son's arms.

"Forever, Amen," Elliot finished

* * *

They knelt there for a long time, he holding his mother from behind, and her recovering. For a few moments there was no guilt or self-recrimination for either of them, only the thought of receiving and giving pleasure from and to a loved one. But then it all came crashing down on Raquel. What she had done and what he had done to her.

She had led her own son down the path of damnation, and she had to save him.

"We have to stop this, Elliot."

"Why, mom? You love me, and I love you."

"It's wrong and you know it. And...and we're betraying your father," she added.

"If he was giving you what you needed then we wouldn't be doing this. And I don't care that it's wrong. I don't, mom. I love you."

"You don't know me. I mean...I love you. But...you don't know the things I did before I was blessed with you."

"Well then tell me. I want to learn. I want to know everything about you."

"I was a whore, Elliot. Your mother was a whore. I fucked men...whenever I wanted, however I wanted. I drank and...and I sinned in every way. That's who I am. I'm sorry, Vincent. I don't want you to be...to be damned like I am."

"No, mom, that's not true."

"It is! Look."

Raquel reached to the end table and took out her phone. Despite her shame, she had kept photos of her youth. Mostly innocent or near-innocent snapshots, they triggered memories for her. She told herself it was to remember not to sin any more, but many times she stared at them at night, reveling in the shame and arousal of the memory. This picture was simple: There were two friends, men in their thirties that she had met at Myrtle Beach when she was on spring break, from college. They stood in the surf. They were each handsome, in decent shape. They were mature, confident, successful, and she had been helpless under their combined charm. In the picture, she sat on the shoulders of one of them, wet hair a mess, in a blue bikini which barely covered her. Even before she had Elliot she had been curvy, to the point where she had often felt overweight. Men did not see her that way, however.

"I went back to the hotel with both of these men, Elliot. With both of them. I let them use me. And...no that's not right. I encouraged them to use me. They were just normal men that I'd met and had fun with. I don't think they expected me to fuck them. But I did. I went home with them and let them both fuck me at the same time, like a whore. Even worse. I didn't take any money. I did it for fun. They used me several times, and I loved it. I...I came so hard that I still think of it today. That certainly wasn't the only one-night stand I had as a girl. Nor the most shameful thing. There are things I can't share with you because I never want you to see me as I see myself."

For a moment, Elliot was sobered. Nothing about what she had said was bad, not to him, but he saw how deeply she felt the shame of her prior life. He wondered if there was something deeper behind this feeling.

"Did you cheat on Dad?"

Raquel laughed, then sobbed.

"No. Not before this. I've never cheated on anyone. I have to tell your father."

"Mom, no! You can't!"

"I have to! I'm lost and I've taken you with me. This...this isn't your fault, at all. I'll protect you. I'll take the blame...I will. I won't mention you. I'll tell your father and he'll...he'll do what he has to. Probably divorce me, but I won't resist any punishment."

"Mom. No. What if he hurts you?"

Elliot was desperate to stop Raquel. He didn't think his father would hurt his mother, but anything was possible in the heat of the moment.

"I...well. If that's what god wants, then that's what will happen, I suppose. I can't pretend not to deserve it. It doesn't matter. I can't stop this now. I don't want to stop it. I-if I'm allowed, I'll give myself to you every day, baby. I'll take such good care of you that you won't ever need to look at other girls. I...I can't tell you what to do here. I know it's wrong. I just...I just don't care. So...here I am...use me, son. Please."

Having said so, Raquel returned placed her hands on the bed, faced forward, but did nothing, staying on her knees. All at once, Elliot finally, at last, understood. Raquel had been forward as a young woman. She had been everything she wasn't supposed to be, in her mind. Now, she could not behave that way, and had made herself passive. She needed a man, her man, to lead her. And now, Elliot was her man.

Elliot reached out and took her hand, pulling her to her feet gently as he stood. He pushed the night gown, already falling off of her chest, all the way down so she was completely and gloriously nude. Slowly, he pushed on her back.

"Get on the bed, mom. On all fours."

Raquel pressed her thighs together for a moment, and then obeyed, smoothly moving into a position she was very familiar with. She stayed there, obedient, waiting for her son to mount her.

"I'm going to breed you, mom. Because if we don't waste my cum, it isn't a sin, is it?"

"Oh god," Raquel whimpered.

"You don't have to do anything, mom. If you tell me to stop, I will. But if you want my cock, then just let it happen."

Raquel said nothing in response, but her hands clutched harder at the comforter and her back arched unconsciously. Elliot smiled and set his hands on her hips. She shivered. With his hand he aimed his cock towards his mother, but down, so as he thrust forward his cock slid under her pussy, rubbing her slit. He felt her warm slickness coat the top of his cock, and his mother moaned deeply. He reached forward impulsively with both hands and played with her breasts, full and swaying beneath her. He tweaked her large nipples, making her cry out and whine.

But Raquel never said no, nor asked him to stop. Instead, she made a noise of deep need and pushed back against her son. She moved her hand back, trying to guide his cock into her, but with surprising strength he moved her hand off of him and set it down firmly back on the bed.

"Please," she whined.

"Please? What do you want me to do? Do you want me to stop?"

"N-no! Please don't tease me...please...just..."

"Just what? Say it, mom. I need to hear it."

"I can't..."

"I want you to be my slut, mom. So if you want my cock so badly, tell me."

"Oh...oh god...please fuck me, son. I'm your slut and I always will be."

Elliot tried not to let it show but he was at the limits of his self control. As soon as the words had left her mouth, he adjusted himself and forced his cock deep inside of her pussy. Had he been less excited, he might have been more thoughtful, and gentle, but both of them were in a frenzy of desire, and even in her pain at being suddenly entered, Raquel simply pushed back against her son, desperate to impale herself.

At last, they were united.

The memories would stay in Elliot's head for years after. The wet, obscene sounds of their fucking, their bodies slapping together. His grunts and her soft, then loud moans. The scent of her arousal, pure and wrong and better than he thought any woman could smell.

Elliot's thrusts only grew more violent, more impassioned, but if Raquel was in any pain she did not ask him to slow or stop. Neither of them resisted or tried to stop what was happening.

Raquel, panting hard, fell on her elbows, letting her head rest on the comforter, but kept her back arched so her son could go as deep as possible. Her only thought was taking as much of him as she could, of drawing his cum out, of being his ideal fuck. Never would pornography or some young woman replace her in his thoughts. He would only want her.

Finally, both of them passed the final point. Raquel screamed as Elliot groaned, emptying himself inside her, filling her, completing the circle.

Elliot collapsed on top of her, before managing to roll off. Raquel did not want him to leave her, and she clung to him. They lay there, in each other's arms, kissing slowly and languidly. Raquel was unable to keep her hands from touching her beautiful son's body, and she knew that whatever her intentions, she was lost to him now.

"I'll speak to your father when he gets home this week," Raquel said, oddly calm. "If...if I can...we can figure out a way to be together, but your father could make what we did public, or even call the police. You have to be ready for bad things to happen to me."

"I don't think that will be necessary," a deep, but oddly calm voice said from the doorway. Elliot looked up in surprise and shame. His father had come home.

"Dad, it was my fault," Elliot started to say, half-rising on his elbows, surprising even himself.

"No, it wasn't," Raquel said, sitting up quickly enough to expose herself, ready to interposition herself between her son and husband. She would not allow her offspring to suffer for her sins.

Todd, however, seemed relaxed. He smiled, even.

"You moved a bit faster than I expected but, really, none of this surprises me. I knew you were the right woman for this family, Raquel."

"I'm sorry, what?" was all Raquel could get out. Elliot said nothing at all.

"Raquel, I've been having sex with my mother for years. I thought you would have figured that out after she spoke with you. I don't blame you for what you did with our son. I have let you get pretty worked up, and you do need quite a bit of...attention."

Raquel wondered how, even in this situation, she could feel even more shame. And arousal.

"Dad," Elliot said, finally starting to understand, "What are you saying? You've been...cheating on mom...with your mom?"

Todd sighed.

"It never felt like cheating to me, because I've been with my mother for many years before I met Raquel, but I did deceive you both. And its not something you can truly explain unless you've been involved in something like this. I saw the way our son looked at you, Raquel, and I saw how you responded to him. I knew that you wouldn't act on your own, and I knew that if I spoke to you, you'd panic or grow even more cold. So I denied you satisfaction, preached against masturbation, and gave you a little push."

"B-but...it's a sin!"

"Is it? I mean, I'm not angry. Our son is an adult, and he's clearly happy. Oh, and I have to say as far as I can tell, the women in our family are all happy, too. But you can make up your own minds. Just know that I expected it, and that's why I came home early. To 'catch' you, but not in a cruel way. You have my blessing. In any case, I'm not supposed to be back for a few days, and I suspect you still have things to talk about, and a lot of fucking to do. Your mother is quite pent up, Elliot. Maybe you could help her with that. Meanwhile, I'll go spend some quality time with my own mother."
* * *

"And he left, after kissing me on the cheek," Raquel said, then laughed softly. "One day, I think he and his mother will join our little club. They have quite an intriguing story of their own. Elliot and I are still going quite strong. I used to think of myself as insatiable, but he wears me out, sometimes three or even four times daily. He might need to get a girlfriend just to let me rest."

"I just need you, mom," Elliot said, his fingers sliding inside of her.

Elliot had been undressing her slowly and touching her throughout their story, and couples in the audience had already started to go beyond kissing and touching. Everyone knew that Raquel and her son would fuck once she was done talking. They were inveterate exhibitionists, after all, but no one minded seeing an attractive mother and son making love.

It was why they had joined the book club, after all.
The Mother/Son Book Club Pt. 03
Book 3 - A Son's Property - Gina and Vincent.
Book 3 - A Son's Property - Gina and Vincent

*

Not for the first time that day, Gina found her thoughts wandering to her husband, Frank. He had been handsome, charming, and intelligent. Over a period of only a few months, she had witnessed the cancer degrade and erase him, until the end, when he could barely remember his own children. She sighed, and choked back a single sob as she continued to rinse and dry the dishes. If she allowed herself to start crying now, she'd never get anything else done tonight. She'd been a wreck for months, on and off. While she never stopped working or being a mother, she knew that without her eldest son, Vincent, she would have shattered into a million pieces long before now.

If Vincent had been here tonight, he would never have allowed her to do this. He probably would have had dinner started before she even got home. He wouldn't even have needed to been asked. She was glad that he had plans that night, in fact. As much as she appreciated her son's help, she wanted him to get out and have his own life, even if it did involve dating girls who weren't mature enough to appreciate him.

Gina thought of her eldest son and then smiled. He was a senior in high school and her two daughters, Lucia and Helena, were still in high and middle school respectively.  Frank had been an excellent father, and he had given her three wonderful children, who she regarded as her life. That was one thing she could be grateful for, at least.

Before the cancer, Gina's family had been close to perfect, with none of the issues that her best friends Linda and Raquel had to deal with. She forcefully reminded herself that her family was still good, and that she was still the head of it, and that she would not allow herself to let her children down.

Still, she would have given much to have had Frank there to comfort her later that evening. She smiled. Well, tonight, she would have liked to have been used more than comforted. There was nothing like the after glow of particularly rough sex, laying in the warm post-orgasm brain fog, appreciating the bruises forming on her inner thighs and wrists. It had been too long. Before the cancer had taken his life, it had taken Franks ability and drive for sex. Gina felt selfish now, thinking of his suffering.

The front door opened unexpectedly. Vincent was home early. Maybe his date didn't go well? Just for a moment, Gina squirmed in place, squeezing her thighs together. Her son was young and very strong. He could definitely leave marks on a girl, if he wanted. She shook her head, trying to throw off the shame of her own thoughts, but from prior experience, she knew they would not disappear.

Gina had been raised a certain way, and because of that, she would always be inappropriately weak to her own son. It was just a fact that she would have to live with.

"Hey mom," Vincent said, walking behind her into the kitchen. He grabbed a can of soda from the fridge before sitting down at the table, behind her. "I would have done the dishes later, you didn't have to."

"I know," Gina said, smiling. "How was your date?"

"Okay I guess. I don't know if she's right for me?"

"What's wrong with Jessica?" Gina asked. Her son was very picky with girls. Then again, maybe he could afford to be. He was tall, handsome, with a soft-spoken confidence. 

"Nothing's wrong with her. She's just...I don't know, kind of immature? I kind of want someone a little more self-aware, I guess. Plus she wouldn't stop talking about her brother. It was weird."

"The right one will come along one day, I'm sure. You're not even out of high school yet, after all."

Gina fell back into silence, continuing to wash the dishes by hand. There weren't many that night, and doing things manually like that relaxed her. She hummed and swayed her hips side to side, to the beat of a song only she could hear. She was unaware of her son's eyes, hungrily following the movement of her body beneath her plain but well-fitted office dress.

"H-how are you doing, Mom?" 

Gina sighed, frustrated but also gratified by the tone of her son's voice. He was worried about her, and he shouldn't have to be.

"Today was a little rough," she said. "Sometimes it feels like your father's been gone for years. Other times it's like he died yesterday."

"It'll get better Mom. I promise."

Vincent stepped behind her and put his hands on his mother's shoulders, intending to be reassuring. It took everything within Gina to resist simply bending over and pushing herself back against her son, submitting fully.

As a woman should, a voice deep within her reminded her, forcefully.

Gina stopped, stepped away from her son carefully, then dried her hands and went upstairs. She was able to get to her room before she collapsed on her bed in tears, her emotions a confusing mix of grief, want, and shame. 

Vincent had no idea what he had done, but he felt badly anyway.

* * *

Things didn't change for several days. Vincent felt a rift open up between him and his mother. He did not like it. More specifically, he did not like how she stopped opening up to him, and how she was glancing at him now, almost slyly, when he was looking away. He worried that she was starting to hate him, although he could not say why.

It was Thursday evening when everything changed. On Thursdays, the family ate together. No one had to be told, but the kids stopped working on their homework, Vincent made sure to be free, and Gina refused to work late. They all helped make dinner; a simple pasta with a very flavorful tomato and meat sauce, a recipe that Gina had learned from her own mother. 

Surprisingly there was nothing wrong that night. Everyone laughed together, more than normal, and no one wanted to leave the table early. Vincent was still concerned as he watched his mother drink first one, then another, then a third glass of wine. At times, she went out with her friends and had some cocktails, but she rarely drank at the table, especially after her husband's death. Red wine was a reminder of prior family celebrations. Tonight, at least, it seemed to cheer her up. Even if she passed out early, Vincent was unconcerned. He would put the girls to bed himself and leave it at that

As it happened, Helena told a series of dumb but hilarious jokes, and things didn't really end even when dinner did. After they cleared the table, the girls and Vincent worked on their homework together, he occasionally helping them with a difficult question or problem. Gina, unfortunately, had a sudden work emergency which demanded her attention, so Vincent made sure that the girls were tucked in on time. It wasn't that unusual, but he was surprised when he got done and came back downstairs to find his mother back at the table, smiling at him. There were two glasses of wine poured. 

"Sit with me, Vincent," Gina said. Her voice slurred ever so slightly, and was noticeably deeper than normal, but it only served to make her seem more seductive. He knew that he should suggest that she go to bed, but he knew that he wouldn't. 

It wasn't Vincent's fault if his mother got drunk, after all. She was an adult. And who knows what she might do in that state. She'd hinted in the past that she and her friends were wild when they were younger. Vincent sat, and sipped his wine. Despite being only eighteen, he was used to having wine at some family meals. It was just expected of him, but he never had much.

"We don't get to talk like this much anymore, Mom," Vincent said, after a moment's hesitation. "I miss it."

Gina smiled, and to Vincent it seemed to light up the room.

"I do, too. We used to talk about all kinds of things. Now, I feel like I owe you so much more, but we don't communicate as much, and that bothers me."

"You don't owe me anything, Mom."

Gina rolled her eyes, but she did so with a smile.

"Come on, Vincent. I see you. I see every little thing you do for Lucia and Helena. You never had to be told, you just became their surrogate father. I still show up for their events, but you volunteer to take them to and from school. Not to mention all the times you've cooked for them or tucked them in or just been present for them. You've been very important to your sisters these last few months. None of us is all right, not really, but without you we all would have been so much worse."

Vincent had tried hard to be helpful after his father's death, but hearing his mother's appreciation had a surprising effect on him. He felt his face grow hot, and without thinking about it, he became hard. He had never been praised in such a way by a woman as mature and beautiful as his mother. Sure she'd been proud of him, and made sure she knew he was loved. She was a good mother. But this was different somehow. 

Or was he just reading into her actions? Vincent had become aware of his unfortunate crush as time had passed. He'd thought his mother was beautiful since forever, and he'd had adolescent fantasies about her that made him feel guilty, but those paled in comparison to the desire that moved in him now. He had respected and loved his father, and had never wanted to take his place, but now...now he very much wanted to be in his mother's bed. He tried to steal glances at her when she was changing, hugged her whenever he could, and found excuses to touch her body. He felt like a creep, but she never resisted or seemed to mind, so he continued. Something had to change, he knew, or someone would be hurt.

"Come on, I was being a good mother for once, and you got all broody and quiet," Gina said, before laughing. "Penny for your thoughts?"

"I...I was just thinking it's hard to know where I belong, now. Dad's gone and...I don't want to seem like I'm trying to take his place..."

"Well, no one would ever accuse you of trying to replace him. That's not what you have been doing. But sometimes, we do have to fill...vacancies, or else things fall apart. You've been amazing in that regard. Even my friends have noticed."

"I...thank you, mom. I just hope things get easier for you."

Gina laughed, this time bitterly.

"Nothing makes this loss easier. Not for me or you or the girls. But we can make things better for each other. Which is what I wanted to talk to you about. You've made things better for all of us, but we haven't been making things better for you."

"It's okay mom, you've been really..."

"No, it is not okay. I want to be clear about that. You are...a young man with needs. Emotional and physical ones, and you've been doing everything right, but I know when I see a man in struggle or conflict. So...are you going to tell me what you really need?"

"I don't...I...I mean..." All of Vincent's confidence left him. The words still appeared in his mind, unwanted: I need to fuck you, Mom. I need to take you and dress you up and show you off and then take you home and bend you over like the little slut you are and...

"All right. I'm sorry. I'm being pushy. Why don't we just have a talk then. I'll tell you some things about myself that you don't know. Personal things. Things that really only my friends and your father knew. Then, if you're feeling up to it, you can share something about yourself, if you feel comfortable."

Vincent sighed, feeling much more relaxed.

"That sounds good."

"So, I guess...I should start by telling you a bit about what I was like when I was your age and just a bit older. I was...well, let's say a bit of a party girl."

"What does that mean?"

"I was never really a slut, exactly. I was absolutely a curvy little tease. There were guys I really liked, and...I wasn't afraid to show them what they wanted to see."

"Oh. Like who?"

Gina laughed, but seeing the slight flash of jealousy in her son's eyes made her decide to answer more coyly than she would have normally.

"Well, there were boys, but...never anything serious. There weren't a lot of mature, thoughtful young men like you around, to be honest. No one caught my interest, beyond the physical and animal attraction. No one, but your father. I used everything I could on him. And he still probably thought I was trying to get something from him. I was, but..."

"So what, you seduced him for money?" Vincent felt angry with his mother, and he didn't know precisely why. He wanted to attack her, to call her names. He wanted to tear her skirt off. He forcibly calmed himself. She was making herself more vulnerable by telling him these things, and she wasn't describing anything immoral. He had friends now who were promiscuous. Why should his mother have had to have been a nun before she met his father?

Gina sighed and shook her head.

"Your father was almost fifteen years older than me, Vincent. When we met I was twenty. Your grandfather had passed away when I was just a little girl, and mom had died right after I started college. I was alone. I mean, I had my older brothers, but they were young guys just out in the world, trying to get degrees and get laid and find themselves, and I wasn't going to hold them back. So I was broke, swimming in student debt, and coming pretty close to being homeless when I met your father. He saved me. "

"Saved you?"

"Your father...took care of me."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't mean it in a bad way. I needed a place to stay, and he was a bachelor with a house that was too big. I rented his outbuilding. It was a garage with an apartment above it. I could use the garage as a studio and it was cheap. Honestly, once he met me I think he would have probably let me stay for free. He was so kind. I didn't want to take advantage of him. Eventually we got close..."

"So you got together?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"Yes, obviously."

"All right, but...you're going to have to hear about your mother having sex. With details."

Gina hesitated, looking over her glass at Vincent, eyes wide and vulnerable, biting her lip. This wasn't fair. She knew she should stop vamping for him, but she couldn't help it. When she caught him glancing towards her cleavage, almost shyly, she suppressed a smile. She had him. Just like his father.

"Y-yeah, mom. I...I do."

"Okay, but you can tell me to stop any time. So...I had started college. I was doing fine, making friends. Actually Linda and Raquel were both in orientation with me. That was lucky. But I still felt pretty alone. Our family hadn't been big, and it had been...unusual, but it had been close. And we looked out for each other. And your father, well, he looked out for everyone around him. He ran his own company by then, and he treated them like a family. He never got married, and when I moved in, he started treating me like the daughter he never had."

"How do you go from being his surrogate daughter to, um..."

"To being in his bed? Well, you'd be surprised how often something like that happens."

"Oh."

"I knew your father was lonely. I had dated a little but I wasn't really interested in boys my age. They really didn't care. Or even if they did, they weren't mature enough to know how. Your father gave me a lot and took very little. He even waived rent when I was between jobs. I fell for him pretty quickly. But I wasn't looking to marry him."

"What did you want with him?"

"What every young woman wants with a handsome, mature, man. I wanted to fuck him."

Vincent's eyes increased to a huge size but he said nothing, so Gina continued.

"I was falling for him, but my only experiences had been with boys and...well, I suppose I was still a virgin in all the ways that counted. I was curvy even back then,  before you kids, and I was maybe less sophisticated but I was pretty daring. I started going around in the tiniest shorts and a baby t-shirt, tight enough that you could see everything. I only did it around the house though. I did more chores for him, cleaning, cooking, that sort of thing. I made sure I bent over all the time, bumped against him. I was very appreciative of any little thing he did. And I hugged him tight. 

Vincent laughed despite himself. His mother had a gleam in her eye, and it wasn't difficult for him to imagine a younger version of her really vamping for his father. It was cute, and in a way, even wholesome.

"So you were a shameless little tease?" he asked, playfully.

"You could say that, but I was willing and available to him. I knew what he needed and I was ready to give it to him if he asked. Or even if he just took."

"Took? You mean like...he forced you?"

"No," Gina said, "I...I was raised a certain way, and while I love my mom, she taught me that it was 'bad' when girls initiated. It was a lady's job to be available and ready for her man, but not to start touching him or asking him directly."

"So how was he supposed to know what to do?"

Gina laughed.

"Your father knew exactly what I wanted. He took his time to make sure that I was really doing more than flirting, but when he was...wow. When his resolve finally broke, he simply devoured me. I'd never heard or felt anything like it. I was cleaning his desk one moment, maybe bending over a bit too much, and the next he was pulling me back into his arms, and then his lap. His hands were everywhere at once and I was a wet little mess for him. Your father fingered me in his lap while I begged for more, and then he bent me over his desk. He was just controlled enough to not hurt me too much, he understood that however flirty I was I wasn't that experienced, but he was fierce, too. His love left marks."

"Were you okay with that?"

"Of course I was! It was what I wanted. Or, rather, at the time I saw him as my caregiver, the man who stood by me, so I wanted to give him what he wanted. And what he wanted was a curvy little slut to use. At first. So everything was mostly the same, except I was available for him any time he wanted. He fucked me on my back, on all fours, standing up, in every part of the house. He took me to parties and fucked me in the bathrooms and hallways of his friends houses. He fucked my mouth at home and in his car. I couldn't believe how virile he was. And all the time he was still the same man he was before we started having sex. He remained caring, considerate, and mature. He was still encouraging me to go to class and save my money.  He always made sure I came, at some point, even if he had come first."

"God mom. That's...I mean..."

"I know this is a bit shocking to you, but you should know how sexual I am, and how sexual your father was. He had needs, and they slowed down a bit as he aged, but they never stopped. And I was his. Really his, the entire time he was with us. He shocked me by proposing to me when I was in my senior year of college. I wanted that so much, but I never thought that I could be enough for him, I suppose I had some self-esteem issues. I graduated, we got married, and then I got pregnant with you. I wanted more kids but had some fertility issues until we found a treatment that worked, which is why you're so much older than your sisters."

"Okay but...like...why?"

"Why your father?"

"No, I mean...you said you couldn't just tell Dad what you wanted. Why not? You're always very direct and straightforward in every other way, so why not that one?"

Gina sighed, and a certain wistfulness returned to her gaze, as if she had just remembered all she'd lost.

"As I said before, I was raised in a certain way, Vincent. Your grandmother, who was wonderful, taught me lessons that I learned very well. I'm grateful for all of them, but...one of them is really quite unusual."

"More unusual than this conversation?" Vincent said, before laughing. Gina could tell that the wine was affecting him, but hopefully not too much.

Gina wanted her son, but she wanted him to be clear-headed when he made up his mind on what he wanted.

"You could say that. Let's see...I can't say it came about all at once. For all my life, Mom had reminded me that I could grow up and do whatever I wanted. I wanted to be someone important, a manager at a business, and so I am. But she also told me that when I found the right person, at home, it was my place to be theirs, entirely. To give myself completely to them and their needs."

"That seems contrary."

"It is. It was confusing. At least in theory. She drove home that the right person for me would be someone who cared for me and my needs, who listened to me, who would pick me up if I fell and provide for me if I was hungry. She said I would know. Until I met your father I doubted that I would ever find the kind of man that she described, but I...I guess I yearned for him. You see, I had witnessed that kind of relationship first hand, not long before."

"You had?"

"Yes. You never knew my father. He left my mother when she was pregnant with my younger sister. I was in my early teens when it happened. She worked very hard to provide for us and to be independent, but I knew that the rejection had hit her hard. She was a good wife for him. I never saw him again, and he never paid a dime of child support. Things got tough. Finally, the time came when mom just couldn't pay the bills. At that point I was old enough to have a part time job but...it really made no difference. We were evicted from our apartment."

"Wait, is that why you moved in with your uncle?"

Gina smiled and leaned forward secretively.

"That's right. He more or less took us in, no questions asked. He had his own small business, a home that was big enough for us, and he raised me and my sister as if we were his own children. He had been telling mom that he could take care of all of us, and her, but she was proud. She somehow thought that she didn't deserve it. We were happy, and by the time I reached my senior year of high school I even had a college fund, thanks to him. I thought of it as a stable home, normal in every way, but it wasn't, really. Not at all."

"Why not?"

"I think you suspect already, but I'll tell you just how I found out. I was a cheerleader." She paused and sighed wistfully. "I know, hard to believe, right? I wasn't as athletic as some of the other girls but...a nice ass and big tits will take you places, sometimes."

"Mom!"

Gina just laughed.

"Oh, come on. That's not the worst thing you've heard me say tonight. Anyway, I took it seriously, practiced hard, and all that. I was due to be home late that night. We were going to compete in regionals, but the school lost power, and it was storming so we couldn't practice outside. I got a ride home early with a friend of mine. I didn't mean to be quiet, I was just thinking about how I needed more focus to keep up with the better girls on the cheer team. That's why I saw what I did, Vincent."

"What did you see, Mom? Was...was your uncle doing something...bad?" Vincent was hooked now. He had to know.

"I honestly thought he was, at first. He was behind my mom, and she was trying to prep something at the counter. Salad I think? But he was feeling her up, and not gently, either. I mean, it's nice to be groped like that by someone who you want, but...otherwise it's a real violation. I was going to say something, I was angry. How could he take advantage of his own sister like that? Even if he was helping us. But...then she moaned, and leaned back into him. She wasn't fighting him, or denying him. She was giving herself to him, passively at first, but then...much more actively. She took his hand and put it between her legs. She was so excited, Vincent. Ready for her man. You see, she didn't just tell me these things, she believed in them. She knew that if we moved in with him, her brother would, in fact, take care of her and us. She knew that she would give herself to him, in the end, because that's how she was made. Maybe he knew it too? I don't know. What I do know is that they loved each other a great deal, and I saw them prove it right there in the kitchen."

"You...watched them have sex?"

"They were fucking, Vincent. In my mind, there's a difference. He pushed her forward and she put her hands on the wall now, just holding herself up, offering herself to him. She didn't even try to move the cutting board, just arched her back. He had unbuttoned her dress, I hadn't noticed, and her breasts were out and he was just groping them very roughly. I remember thinking that it must of hurt but she moaned. She was in heat, Vincent. I'd never seen my mother like that. And if that wasn't enough, my uncle lifted her skirt, pulled her panties down and..."

"Oh my god."

"He pulled his cock out so fast. They knew I was due home soon so they didn't have a lot of time. He had...well, maybe it's sick of me to think so, but his cock was pretty great. And he just thrust inside of her. No waiting, she cried out, but it wasn't because it hurt. I watched him fuck her. And I mean he gave her a pounding. That slap of flesh on flesh. You don't forget it. It's nothing like porn. It's real, and solid and she was pushing back, too, giving herself to him. She was a woman driven to be bred."

"Mom...this is...I don't..."

"Easy, Vincent. It's just us talking, remember? I know this is getting you hard, same as it gets me hot to think about all these years later. You think I'm going to judge you? Or tell anyone? No way. I'm your mother, Vincent. I'm safe. I'll never tell."

"I...thanks, mom. I'm enjoying the story," he replied. His mother was correct, after all. He was rock hard, and pretty sure that there would be a precum stain on his shorts later.

"Anyway, he kept getting louder and louder and she did, too. I don't know, maybe they hadn't had time to themselves in a while. Eventually, he buried himself inside of her and groaned. My mother turned her body slightly, reaching back to push him even deeper inside of her. When she did, she saw me at the doorway, frozen like a deer in the headlights. He pulled out, I could clearly see cum running out and down her thigh. That's the last thing I saw before I took off up to my room and closed the door. I felt...well I felt all kinds of things. Mostly shame and arousal."

"Oh god, so...what happened?"

"Mom came upstairs in a little bit. She'd pulled herself together but there was still a sheen of sweat on her brow. We both knew what she'd done but she still met my eyes, almost defiantly. I was angry. I said some awful things to her. Mostly because I was scared of what was happening, and my world had changed pretty significantly. She listened to me without really being affected, and then hugged me. Then she started explaining." 

Vincent was too fixated on his mother's words to respond. He'd never had any idea that his grandmother and great-uncle had been like this. Gina sipped her wine and went on.

"There's not much to it that you haven't heard already. Mom explained to me that everything was as I knew it. She loved me and so did my uncle. There was just more to it. She'd never been forced. She'd given herself to him completely. Not just her body, but her heart, too, but she was still independent. She basically ran the home completely, even the finances at that point, which was more common in the past. She apologized for me finding out that way, and she understood if I was upset, but that she wouldn't change. I'll never forget her words. 'It's how the women in our family are built, Gina. You'll understand soon.' And then...everything was normal again. We ate dinner together. We laughed. I thought about what she said. I still think about it a lot."

"But...I mean you accepted it. That doesn't mean you believe it or agree with it, right, Mom?" A part of Vincent, the part that was molded by society, was horrified. It was the same part that was ashamed of the desires he had for his mother. Another, deeper, more primal part was eager to hear more.

"I do believe it and agree with it. Mom was never happier than when she was with her own brother, and they were great together. She mourned him tremendously when he died. I gave myself to your father because I believed in it, and I was right to do it. He encouraged me to do what I wanted. And yes, we disagreed, even fought. But when it came down to the most basic of relations, he owned me. I never, ever, told him no."

"Wow...It's just...you know, hard to believe. Not that I think you're lying, it's just...you're really ambitious and independent."

Gina smiled at his son's recognition, and shivered just a little. Being praised by your man was special, after all. 

"You want me to prove it?" Gina said, with a challenging upturn of her lips. She knew how to brat, if that was the motivation her man needed.

"What...what do you mean, mom?"

"I mean...do you want me to show you what I really think of you? When I come home after a long day and find out that my son, my wonderful, handsome, son, has taken care of his little sisters, made sure dinner was ready, and handled his own responsibilities?"

"Y-yeah, mom."

"I think about what a fine man my son has become. I think about how he takes care of everyone around him. I think about how, no matter what I know to be right and wrong, he's definitely the man of the house. He's definitely my man. And I think about how I'm not fulfilling my responsibilities towards him."

"You do take care of us, Mom! You pay for...for everything. And you make sure that the girls are fed and you show all of us love and..."

"Do I need to explain myself again, Vincent? Because I will. I'll tell you all kinds of stories if it helps you understand and move past any guilt or hesitation. You stepped up. You take care of your sisters, and you do as much as any husband does. You have needs. I'm not taking care of those needs like I should. It doesn't matter that I'm your mother. I'm yours, if you want me. I want to be yours."

Vincent's mouth went dry.

"What...what happens now?"

"It's not my place to tell my man how to best make use of me."

"So...whatever I do...it won't be wrong...because you're my property? And...and because you'll want it, too?"

Gina nodded, downed the rest of her wine, then stood. She smoothed her dress. Demure though it was, it did not hide her body from Vincent's gaze. Without another word, she turned and walked towards the sink. She neither rushed, nor moved slowly, but with the measured purpose of a woman who knew her way. Slowly, and with a smooth sensuality, she started to wash the dishes.

Vincent just sat and watched her for a bit. Did she really mean for him to...to do whatever he wanted with her? He wasn't stupid. He knew that his mother had told that very explicit story not just to turn him on, but to make him think of the possibilities, and now he could not stop himself from doing just that. He was nervous, afraid even. He knew what she expected, but he also knew that she wouldn't guide him much if at all. He was to do what he wanted with her. With his mother. 

No. This was wrong. Vincent stood quickly and began to leave the kitchen, but something stopped him. He turned and watched his mother again. He saw the way her body swayed under her dress. Hadn't he always wondered what she looked like, nude? Hadn't he wanted to feel how soft and giving she would be? Hadn't he wanted her at his mercy? This was almost more than he had ever fantasized about, and the best part was his mother had already consented happily. And like she had said, she would never ever tell.

Vincent stepped softly behind her. He was not trying to be stealthy as much as not be aggressive. He did not wish to alarm her. He loved her, and wanted to make her...happy. A little playful smile appeared on his face. 

There was no point in his resistance. He'd seen long ago how his friends and other men had looked at his mother. She was irresistible. She was curvy and delicious, yes, but she was also funny, loving, and caring. Everyone saw it. She turned heads all the time. So, Vincent supposed he might as well make the best of it. For both of them.

Vincent set his hands on his mother's hips. Gina froze, for a moment. He could feel the shiver run through her, and he smiled, although she could not see it. After a moment she continued with her task, soaping the dishes, rinsing them and setting them aside. He moved his hands to her back, and began, slowly, to massage her. She'd asked him to do this in the past, especially in recent months. She was full-figured, and had to sit at her desk for long hours, and at times, she ached badly. Vincent had always been happy to help her, but tonight, he was slower, firmer.

"Mmm...that feels wonderful, Vincent," Gina said, practically purring. 

"Good," Vincent said, moving to her shoulders, then down her back again, until his hands rested at her sides. The whole process took a few minutes, but already he could tell that his mother was more relaxed. More receptive. Slowly, almost painfully so, he unbuttoned the front of his mother's dress. He slid his hands within, and she paused, unable to concentrate as he unhooked her bra. Where had he gotten so skilled at doing that so quickly? It didn't matter, because soon, his breasts hung loosely and free, and her son's hands we're all over them. 

Vincent squeezed them a bit too hard at first, but his mother didn't complain. In fact, she moaned and leaned back, grinding her beautiful, large ass against his cock. He groaned. That was what he wanted. He wanted her to be ready and willing. 

With confidence borne of his own arousal, Vincent lifted her skirt up, then before he could chicken out, hooked his thumbs in Gina's panties, and knelt, drawing them down to the floor. Gina gasped at the cool air on her exposed ass and thighs, but did not stop cleaning. Instead, she simply stepped out of her panties, as it was clear Vincent had wanted her to do. Then she went back to her dishes. She hoped, almost desperately, that her son would fuck her aggressively as she had seen her uncle fuck her mother all those years ago, but that was perhaps a lot to ask of a young man who was probably, hopefully, still a virgin. It didn't matter, in any case. She was happy to provide her son with anything he needed. A good woman existed for her man's pleasure. 

Gina had anticipated that her son would stand and take her just like that. It was unlikely that he would last very long, as a young man, but that didn't matter to her. It was flattering, in a way. She thought about what he might do so much that she forgot to pay attention to what he was doing.

Vincent wanted his mother, but he was still a virgin, and did not anticipate the effect of seeing her swollen, wet pussy. She kept washing, even as he caught her rich, delicate scent. A slight line of liquid rolled down the inside of her thigh. Without thinking, Vincent licked it up, letting his tongue run up his mother's dark olive skin all the way up to her...

"Fuck!" Gina was shocked from her reverie, and she dropped the dish she had been attempting to wash into the soapy liquid. Vincent stopped for a moment, said, "Put your hands on the counter, Mom," and then began to lap at her pussy in earnest. She moaned as his hands gripped her thighs tightly. She rolled her hips slightly back, giving him better access, and he dove his tongue in eagerly.

Both mother and son were lost to desire, and forgot the danger of their position, or that the girls could have walked in at any moment, despite the hour. Gina threw her head back and closed her eyes, enjoying the tongue lashing that she hadn't received since months before her husband had died. He loved to eat pussy too. Like father like son, she supposed.

Gina was already riding the ragged edge of a big orgasm, not quite there, but almost. Vincent reached around her thick thigh, with one of his hands. Bleys had told him once where to touch women, if you wanted to get them off, and Vincent was grateful that he listened now, as he ran his strong hand through his mother's thick bush (apparently she did not shave, something that he found intensely arousing for reasons that he could not understand), finding a swollen, wet nub that could only be the clitoris. 

"Ohhhhh godd...that's...oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck..." Gina said, as she involuntarily arched her back further, as if to get away from his hand. Vincent did not complain. He had maybe been too rough? He touched her again, this time lightly, as he tried to continue lapping at her with his tongue. She moaned and shifted and squirmed. In mock irritation, he nipped at her ass, and she squeaked cutely. 

By this point Gina was leaning over the counter, soapy hands getting water everywhere, the front of her dress getting soaked through. She had arched her back enough so that she was a foot or so out from the counter, now. Vincent stopped briefly, turned around so he leaned against the counter, and then started licking his mother from the front, tonguing her clit directly. Even as she shivered and moaned from this new contact, he inserted a single finger inside of her. It was too much.

Gina came, trying to stay quiet and mostly succeeding, but it was huge. She masturbated regularly, but hadn't had much success since her husband's death, and this was like a floodgate had been opened inside of her. She knew that she was coating her son's face in her own liquids, so maybe it had. She shook all over, quivered and came. Vincent saw her thighs shaking, stopped and managed to slide out from under her, before standing and wrapping his arms around her midsection instinctively. He did so just in time. Gina's orgasm finished, but her legs shook and gave way. 

Vincent held her fairly easily. He'd never say so but his mother was not light. That was, of course, part of her appeal, and only enhanced her sexyness. It did mean, however, that he had to be careful not to drop her as she went nearly limp in his arms. He managed to lift her, bridal style, and carry her to the couch. Her panties lay on the floor of the kitchen, forgotten.

Vincent sat down and held his mother as she curled up, resting her head on his chest as he stroked her back. She was shorter than him, and pleasantly heavy in his lap. He could get used to this. For a long time neither said anything, and from his mother's relaxed breathing he assumed she had fallen asleep, but she spoke up.

"I haven't been cum like that since I was eighteen," Gina said, giggling softly.

"I'm glad."

"Now...I think it's time you actually made use of me, for your own pleasure."

"I enjoyed doing that mom. A lot."

Gina laughed again, this time even softer.

"I know, sweet boy, but you have needs too. And they're not small. I clean your sheets, remember?"

Vincent blushed.

"Ah, geez, Mom."

"Don't be embarrassed. It's natural. Anyway, how do you want me?"

"What do you mean?"

"For your first time. Do you want me on all fours? Or maybe you want me to ride the cum out of you? Or do you want to do face to face? It's all good for me, and even if it wasn't, I'd still do it, for you."

Vincent froze as all of the possibilities ran through his head at once. This was really happening. He had a hot older woman, all to himself, and she'd do anything he wanted. He looked down, and found his mothers large brown eyes looking up at him.

"I want you on your back, mom. I want to see your beautiful face when I um...you know."

Gina giggled.

"Oh, you are a sweet talker, aren't you? I'm starting to think I'm not your first..."

"Y-you are, mom. I um...I've never..."

"Hey, relax," Gina said, as she nonchalantly slipped her dress off, "I don't think that being a virgin is a bad thing, any more than not being one is. As a matter of fact, I'm very happy about being the first woman to have you, or the first woman you have, depending on how you look at it..."
"God, Mom," Vincent said.

"That bad?" Gina replied playfully. It was obvious from her son's expression that seeing her nude was having a profound effect on him. He crossed the room quickly, his hands again on his mother's large tits, fondling and manhandling them, feeling them give in his hand even as his other hand explored and squeezed her ass. Gina gasped. "Fuck, that's it...enjoy me baby."

Gina unzipped her son's fly, understanding that he was so aroused that he was almost frantic. He was already close and she wanted him inside her before he finished. As she pulled his cock out, he pushed her gently back on the couch, where she splayed out seductively, parting her legs. It was the first time he had seen a real woman, aroused and in front of him. He froze for just a moment, unable to think. 

"We might not have a lot of time, Vincent," Gina prodded, gently. "And besides that...you're probably not going to last too long..."

"I'll try..."

Gina shook her head.

"No. You got me off, and it was wonderful, but remember, I'm here for what you need, and what you need right now is to cum inside of your mother. Don't hold back, don't try and stop it. Just let yourself do what comes natural, okay?"

Vincent didn't bother trying to answer. He climbed on top of her, between her legs, took his cock and aimed it at his mother's pussy. She spread both her legs and her lips helpfully and he started to slide in quite easily, although she was quite tight. She moaned, just a little. He moaned a lot. He went faster than he had intended, burying himself deep, but his mother did not seem to mind. 

"Fucccckk," Vincent said, in one long drawn out breath. He had wanted to say how much he loved his mother, or how good she felt around his cock, but he only had the focus for one, single word. Still, it seemed like she got the message as she met his gaze, smiled at him, then closed her eyes and bit her lip as he started moving.

Vincent wanted to show his mother a good time, and he had made her cum, but he wasn't truly in control. He wanted to draw this out, but she'd simply aroused him too much. There was no build up, no gradual incline into passion. Vincent was slamming into his mother almost immediately, desperate to cum. He felt a bit guilty in the back of his mind, as the sound of the impact of their flesh filled their living room. He was aware of nothing but her. Gina was his whole world. And she pulled him in with each stroke, moaning, responding, rolling her hips. 

"That's it, baby..." she said, egging him on. 

Vincent was only able to growl in response. He was so turned on it was a kind of rage, uncontrollable, and fierce. And Gina loved every second of it.

"You...you can cum in me...if you want..." Gina said, barely getting the words out. It didn't matter, however. Despite her deferential tone, she had wrapped her legs around her son's, locking him in place, and as Vincent had learned, she had very strong thighs and calves. She wanted every drop of him.

Vincent buried his face in his mother's neck and bit, trying not to make too much noise. He would have shouted otherwise. As it was, Gina cried out, partially from the shock of the bite, but mostly from the orgasm which suddenly seized her. Between the climax of pleasure and her son's forceful pounding, she felt like she had been rendered into nothing but a little puddle of pleasure. She stopped fighting and gave in.

For a bit the lovers lay like that together, in the afterglow, not even considering that one had born the other. Then they looked into each other's eyes and the realization came crashing down. Neither felt guilt. Both felt responsibility. Gina would not be predatory towards her wonderful, handsome son. She would pleasure him in any way she could. Vincent would never harm or simply take from his mother. He would use her, yes, but only as she wanted and needed to be used. 

After a bit. Vincent became aware of how much noise they had made, and he stood quickly, then zipped up. Gina took another moment then stood and helped him get the couch back in order. Then they went upstairs and to their separate bedrooms. It was late and tomorrow would come fast. Besides, Vincent was a young man and needed his rest. 

* * *

Gina had just finished breakfast. She didn't try to make it every day. That would simply be too much with her work, but every Saturday she made an exception. She loved to make pancakes and eggs and bacon, and she knew that the kids appreciated it too, even as they got older. It made her feel more "traditional" and "domesticated", like she was carrying on something that her own mother taught her. Naturally, that got her thinking about what she had done with Vincent two nights previously. She flushed and squirmed and almost forgot to flip the eggs.

God. It had been so much better than she had anticipated. He was wonderful and kind and so eager. Not that she would tell him, but Vincent had also been adorable. And then...well...fierce. He had gone in her mind from the cute young man, to a handsome one, to the sexiest man she'd ever met. She practically salivated yesterday morning when she'd seen him leaving the bathroom, in nothing but a towel. Without thinking, she'd stopped him in the hall and ran her hand down his firm chest, then kissed him. Before she knew what was happening he was pressing her against the wall, his towel falling off. Only the sound of one of the girls moving in her room stopped them from going much further, right there. That had been dangerous.

And that was to say nothing of the first time itself. Thursday night had been simply magical. Gina hadn't felt that sexy in over a decade. Having her own son enter her as she lay on her back had been incredible. Having him cum inside her as they looked deeply into one another's eyes had been something else entirely. She loved feeling his seed inside of her, but...she really should have insisted that he use a condom. Or should have gone back on birth control weeks ago when she'd first really started thinking about seducing her son. 

That had been very dangerous.

"Mom," Helena said in that patronizing tone that only teenage girls seem to have. "You need to be more careful!"

"I...what?" Gina said, feeling her blood turn to ice, unable to turn around.

"I found your underwear on the kitchen floor on Friday morning," Helena clarified. "I put them in the laundry. God, what if Vincent had found them instead of me? You need to be more careful with your clothes."

"Gross," Lucia said, albeit in a voice more amused than actually affronted. 

"Yeah," Vincent said, sitting at the table. She hadn't heard her son enter the room, but she could hear that he was having difficulty not laughing. "That would have been really embarrassing, Mom. Almost as bad as if I had seen you naked."

"Don't make it weirder than it already is, Vin-cent!" Helena said, dramatically. 

"If the three of you are done commenting on my underwear, breakfast is ready," Gina said, after finally getting control of herself. She brought the dishes and food to the table. The kids served themselves. Lucia took extra bacon, Helena took extra pancakes, and Vincent took extra everything. That was probably good, given what she was going to ask him. She sat down and took some eggs and pancakes.

"Vincent, do you still think Bleys and Elliot are free today?" She asked.

"Yeah. We were just going to hang out. Do you still need that landscaping stuff done?"

"You read my mind."

"I'll call them. I'm sure they'll jump at earning some extra money."

"Don't forget, I'm paying you too."

"Nah, Mom. It's cool. I live here, remember?" 

Gina and Vincent shared a glance and a smile that had nothing to do with the conversation. She wasn't going to argue with him. After all, who was she to tell her man what to do?

* * *

Gina felt the sun on her back as she continued to dig the tiny holes and plant the seedlings. Her herb garden was going to be huge this year. Just the way she'd always wanted it. She took a quick break and looked up. The boys were joking and laughing on the other side of her back yard. That was okay with her, though. They could take breaks. She'd paid Vincent's two friends (Bleys and Elliot) to come help her and her son to spread mulch, dig holes, move small trees, and various other tasks that needed to be done. She'd tried to pay Vincent, but as always, he refused. He saw it as part of his duty. Another thrill ran through her at the thought of that, and she squirmed in place. She hoped that wherever Frank was, he wasn't judging her too harshly. Then again, she was pretty open about this sort of thing, and he had known about her family secrets.

Now that Gina thought about it, there was something particularly appealing in having three fine young men, all very different, working hard and sweating for her viewing. Bleys was already tall and strong, with his mother Linda's bright red hair and clear eyes. Linda couldn't stop talking about how amazing he was around the house, and if Gina didn't know better, she would have thought that there was some level of taboo attraction there.

Then there was Elliot. Quiet and reserved, but with deep brown eyes and hair a few shades darker than his mothers bright blonde. He was shorter than the other boys, but he had broad shoulders and he was already a fine looking man. Elliot's mother Raquel watched him like a hawk, though, and Gina smiled. Raquel had been an infamous and unapologetic slut back in the day, and innocent, sweet, smart boys like Elliot were just her type. Gina was absolutely sure that while Raquel would never admit it, she definitely had sexual thoughts about her son.

And that left her own son, Vincent, who seemed to be taking over all of her thoughts these days.

There was nothing wrong with enjoying looking at the other boys, of course, but she had her own son, just like her friends had theirs. Or rather, her son had her. Thinking those thoughts were distracting, making her less productive, but it wasn't like she could stop them.

As if on queue, her son took off his t-shirt, already stained with sweat, and started shoveling even harder. The muscles in his back shifted and moved in a way that was almost hypnotic to her. God, he was so strong. He could pick her up and toss her easily. If he wanted to, he could force her into any position he wanted, and she wouldn't be able to resist him at all. 

Not if. When. And she knew that she wouldn't resist. She no longer even had the capacity, much less any desire to do so. For a moment, Gina felt guilty. Not, strangely, at the incestuous and deeply forbidden relationship, but that she should still be allowed to be happy while her husband was dead. She sighed, a bit mournfully, and returned to her gardening.

* * *

"Dude, your mom is absolutely killing it today in that tank top and those tight shorts," Bleys said.

"Don't go there, Bleys," Vincent growled out, shoveling more dirt out for Elliot to spread.

"It's not our fault she's a fucking fox," Elliot noted with a smirk.  

Vincent rolled his eyes. It was an old game between them. Since they had learned what sex was, they had each realized that their mothers were, objectively, fucking hot. Therefore they considered it their sacred duty to mention it every time that they were at each other's houses. Today, it was Vincent's turn to suffer through it. Normally, he would have been fine with it, but today...it was freaking him out. The hard work had been a good distraction from the things he'd done to his mother already. Still, he couldn't really blame them for looking at his mother. Her tits were practically spilling out of her shirt, and her shorts barely reached her ample thighs. And when she moved, hnng. She jiggled and shifted in the most amazing ways. Vincent sighed.

"You're right," Vincent said. "My Mom is...looking really good today."

"Wow, Vincent admits it, finally," Bleys said, looking over at Elliot. But Elliot was suddenly silent, clearly lost in his thoughts.

 "Are you all right, Elliot? You're quieter than normal," Vincent noted. He always was perceptive. 

"Y-yeah. I'm...I guess I'm nervous. I had kind of a thing with...with an older woman last night. I'm supposed to meet her again today."

"Wait, Elliot...you have a date with a MILF?" Bleys said with obvious disbelief.

"Oh hey, thanks for that reaction. I didn't really need any self-esteem, it's fine," Elliot said with a wry little smile.

"N-no, dude, I didn't mean you couldn't get a date I just...I mean...I meant that...," Bleys struggled to explain himself. Elliot's home life was complex. He was a preacher's son and...

"What Bleys means is that we're both shocked your mom let you date. She's really...protective...of you," Vincent said, saving Bleys.

"Yeah," Elliot said, before laughing. "I guess I wouldn't have expected it either. I just...well...lets just say it's weird and leave it at that."

"You're not gonna tell us who she is?" Bleys asked.

"No. No I will not," Elliot said with a smirk. Vincent shrugged. It was his business and it made sense that he might have to keep his new woman secret. After all, if his mom Raquel found out, she would flip. 

Vincent stopped, and buried the shovel into the ground. He shot a glance at his mom, managed to get a look straight down her tank top, and then blushed and looked away. She was at least out of earshot.

"Guys, uh...do you...do you ever think about your moms?" Vincent asked, voice almost cracking.

"What do you mean?" Bleys said, but his blush told Vincent that he already knew, but couldn't bring himself to talk about it.

"Are you asking us if we ever think about our own moms when we jerk off?" Elliot asked, nonchalantly, still shoveling. 

"Y-yeah. I guess I am," Vincent replied. "Because...I mean...I do. I know it's fucked up but...I feel a lot of things when I see Mom dressed like that."

Elliot laughed, but it wasn't harsh.

"How could you not?" Elliot responded. "Like we keep saying, your mom is hot. The other night...my mom was wearing a silk nightgown. It covered her body but it gripped her when she walked. I could see almost everything. I couldn't help but get turned on."

"S-so you're saying that you jerk it...to your mom?" Bleys asked, incredulously.

"Yes," Elliot replied without hesitation. "And since Vincent asked the question, I know he does too. And we all know you do, Bleys. And who could blame you? Your mom keeps herself in incredible shape, dude, and she's always all over you, hugging and praising you. If you weren't her son...well..."

"Well what?" Bleys said, almost challenging him.

"It doesn't matter, Bleys. I'm just saying I don't think that there's anything wrong with us being into our moms. And I'm not going to sit around feeling guilty about it," Elliot added with finality. 

The three boys worked silently then, and finally, Gina had mercy on them. She brought them lemonade, paid and thanked Bleys and Elliot with a kiss on the cheek before they left, and then went back to her own gardening. Vincent followed her back. He stood over her, and she knew that he was taking her in. So, she figured she'd give him the show he wanted. 

Gina dug a row of new holes, and planted seeds in each one, and then went through and covered each one with a mix of dirt and fertilizer. She moved a bit faster than she needed to, and stopped more abruptly. She knew how it would make her body move and jiggle, especially her ass. She often felt a bit overweight, but she was not unaware of the impact her body had on men like her husband...and her son. To her surprise, Vincent reached down and grabbed her ass. Not hard or painfully, he gave it a quick squeeze before he let her go, sighing. There was affection in the lewd act, and Gina felt...appreciated.

"What has gotten into you?" she asked, laughing.

"You have, mom. Don't pretend that you didn't wear that outfit to entice me."

Gina smirked, knowing that Vincent couldn't see her expression. While she also got a little thrill from Vincent's friends watching her bend and move, she had chosen the shorts and tank top especially for her son. She half-expected him to take her by the arm and lead her into the house. That would be a little dangerous with Lucia in the house, but she would probably be in her own room, dead to the world. Gina did not, however, expect what actually happened.

As Gina heard her son get down behind her, she bent forward to dig another hole...and give her son a better view of her ass. Vincent knelt behind her, and then pulled her shorts and panties down at the same time, quickly, but not roughly. She made a small, undignified chirp of surprise, and Vincent chuckled darkly. God...he could see how wet she was now. Gina did not want to stop her son but she couldn't stop her own thoughts from racing.

"Vincent, if your sister came outside now, she could see what you're doing..."

"Are you telling me to stop, mom?" 

Gina paused. She did not want that.

"It's not my place to tell you what to do with your property..."

"Good. Because right now I want to make full use of you."

Gina felt her face grow flushed. Did he intend to mount her right here? She dropped her trowel and put both of her hands down on the earth, without thinking. She would be more stable and open to him this way. As her son's fingers slid inside her, she moaned deeply and arched her back. 

God. Yes. This was what she needed. 

"Vincent..." she said.

"Yes, Mom?" He replied, and she could hear his smirk. He stopped fingering her for a moment, just long enough to pull her tank top up over her breasts, freeing them. Then he groped her tits while simultaneously pistoning his finger inside of her. 

This was so fucking wrong and Gina never wanted it to end. She knew she was dripping all over her son's hand. If anyone saw them...god...she would look like such a slut. 

"You're making me yours completely, Vincent. I can't even tell you how turned on I get around you."

"Do you want something, Mom?"

"Y-you know what I want."

"Say it, mom. Tell me."

When Gina finally answered her son's imperative, she was astonished at how needy she sounded.

"Vincent...please fuck me. Please. I want your cock so bad."

Gina was rewarded with the sound of her son fumbling to take his shorts ofs. He was excited for her, too. He was close, and probably wouldn't last long. That was fine by Gina, as long as every drop ended up inside of her. She may have belonged to her son, but her son's cum belonged to her.

At last, Gina felt Vincent's cock pushing into her, easily sliding between her wet and swollen lips, stretching her out gloriously, forcing a grunt from him and a low moan from her. 

"Y-you have to be quick," Gina said, barely maintaining any focus.

"Are you telling me how to use my property?" Vincent growled back. She shuddered and clenched around his cock. When had he gotten so commanding? Was he doing it for her? Had he already figured his mother out that easily. God, if he had, she would be helpless to...Vincent started to thrust wickedly, interrupting her train of thought. 

"Vincent! Fuck...no...I'm...I'm yours..."

"Good. Because I'm going to use you out here in the yard, and if anyone sees us I am not going to stop."

"B-but..." Gina started to protest but Vincent stepped up his pace. He was going quickly, and with a lot of force. The impact of him on her ass seemed so loud to her. 

"This is your fucking fault, mom. You dressed in those tight little shorts and that slutty fucking shirt. You were provoking me. Admit it!"

"Yes...yes I want...I want this so bad, Vincent. I want you to want me..."

"And you wanted to make me jealous in front of my friends...well...I'm going to remind you who you belong to, Mom."
Gina couldn't think any more, but whimpered in response. Vincent gently pushed her head down, and she folded her elbows in front of her and laid her head upon them, and the smell of the fresh mulch did not deter her enjoyment. She arched her back more, almost to the point of pain. She wanted her son to be as deep as possible before he came.

Vincent started to grunt and groan then, clearly excited beyond reason himself. He was going even harder now. Gina shuddered under each thrust, and knew her ass must be quaking with every impact. Frank had loved seeing that. She wondered if Vincent enjoyed it as well. 

"Fuck!" Vincent exclaimed, at last, forcing himself incredibly deep within her before letting himself start to cum. Gina felt the warmth of her son's seed spreading deep within her, and that was enough to push her over the edge. Her body locked up, her hands clutched at the mulch, and she cried out. For just a moment, she blacked out, but came back to herself almost immediately.

Her son had cum in her, again. Gina panted through her sated smile. He was such a good boy.

* * *

"So what, this is your work's big yearly party?" Vincent asked.

"Yep," Gina said with an excited smile. Helena and Lucia shared a look of confusion.

"And you want me to go as your date?" Vincent said.

"Yep," his mother said, surprising all of her children, and smiling still more widely. 

It was morning and everyone was getting ready for school, Vincent included. While it was unusual for his mother to spring something like this on him early in the day, he could tell that she was very excited. He remembered his mother and father having gone to this party many times before. A formal corporate affair of his mother's employer, Vincent would have to wear a suit and make conversation with people much older than him. On the other hand, he knew that his parents had a good time every year, and the food and drink was excellent. But really, the only thing that mattered to Vincent was that his mother was excited, and that she almost certainly wouldn't go unless he accompanied her. It was an easy decision.

"Sure thing, Mom. I'll be ready on Saturday night."

* * *

Friday was busy for Vincent. Between class, homework, driving the girls around, and then going to Helena's track meet (Lucia was hanging out with friends and Gina had to work late) he was worn out. He considered how much he had taken on since his father's death, and yet again wondered if he shouldn't just attend college from home next year. He could still help with the girls then. And, of course, he would have much easier access to his mother. Gina, however, would want him to go away for college, he suspected. She wouldn't want to hold him back from the same sort of college experience she had. But Vincent had his own thoughts on the matter. 

In any case, he ended up sleeping in on Saturday, despite wanting to get up early and do some extra chores around the house. Gina was pleased to see him getting some of the minor house repairs done, but she shooed him away after only an hour of work, and more or less forced him to relax that afternoon, although she didn't make time to be with him. On a normal Saturday, he'd have tried to get her in his room for a bit for a quickie during the day, or at least gotten her to go down on him, but Gina was busy all day with one thing or another. He wondered if his mother was trying to work him up.

Vincent's question was answered later that evening. He had finished ironing his suit and getting dressed. It was a simple black suit, red tie, white shirt. Very straightforward, but his father had insisted on getting it tailored for him, and Vincent had to admit that it was worth the effort.. He looked much older than eighteen in the mirror. He looked twenty-three at least.

Vincent went downstairs just at the right time, so of course his mother wasn't downstairs yet. In the past, he knew his father would have playfully shouted upstairs at her to "get her cute butt in gear" and while it was tempting to do the same, he felt like that was their thing. Instead he walked in and chatted with his sisters in the living room. They were watching some kind of video game screen on the tv. The game was kind of lame but the streamer was engaging, so Vincent was distracted when Gina finally spoke.

"Ready, Vincent?" Gina said, the slightest purr in her voice.  

Vincent turned to look at her and narrowly managed to avoid dropping his jaw in shock. Gina was in the hottest dress he'd ever seen. No, that was wrong. Gina, his mother, was the most sexy woman he had ever seen, and the dress existed solely to show that fact off. 

The dress was black, and hung from two tiny straps on Gina's shoulders, which were otherwise bare. It plunged quite low, exposing the top of her bust and quite a lot of cleavage. In fact, Vincent suspected that the size of his mother's breasts were a lot of what was holding the dress up. He didn't know the term for it, but the dress gripped his mother all over her body, showing nearly all of her soft curves. It ended above her mid-thigh. She was a work of art in it. She was almost obscenely attractive.

"Damn, Mom," Lucia said. "You look good!" Vincent smiled at her reaction. Lucia had a similar body type to her mother (while Helena was more slender and athletic) and sometimes had a great deal of anxiety over being 'overweight'. Seeing Gina like this was probably good for both of their self esteem.

"Earth to Vincent," Gina said, a twinkle of mischief in her eye. She was obviously quite pleased with the effect her outfit had on her son. Vincent snapped himself out of his trance.

"I know, I know. We'll be late. I'll go start the car," Vincent said before he strutted out the door, leaving Gina trembling. Did he have any idea what he did to her? She got herself together, then walked into the living room.

"Order yourself pizza later. Get whatever you want. Don't forget that we'll be late," Gina said. 

"Cool," Helena said, but she didn't look away from the twitch stream on the screen. 

"We got this, Mom. Just go easy on Vincent, okay? I mean, like...he's never been to a party like this before. I'm not sure he's even been to one since Dad...you know." Lucia said.

Gina smiled despite the reference..

"Your brother knows how to handle himself. It will be good for him. I'll make sure he has a good time," Gina said. And having said it, she knew she would. 

In a minute, Gina was outside, slinking into the passenger seat of the car, enjoying Vincent's glance at her legs and bust as she settled in. That wasn't the only reason she had worn this particularly provocative outfit, but it was part of her motive. She had expected him to be attentive and aroused, but as soon as her seat belt clicked, Vincent immediately was on her, kissing her neck, groping her breast then making out with her.

"Vincent..." Gina said, before moaning. This wasn't what she had expected. This was far, far better.

"God, Mom, you smell so fucking good. How did Dad ever get anything done around you?"

"Sometimes he didn't. Sometimes he was greedy for me, just like you are. I always loved that about him. Now I love that about both of you."

For a minute, the two made out in the car, but rather than things escalating like they typically would, they stopped, and then rested their heads against one another, both panting.

"We should go," Gina said, regretfully. "We're already a bit late."

"Y-yeah. The party," Vincent said, coming back to himself. "And we probably shouldn't do that in the driveway where the girls could see us."

Gina laughed.

"That's right, Mr. Insatiable, we probably shouldn't but...it was fun, wasn't it?"

Vincent smiled.

"Yeah, it was, Mom."

As the drive went on, however, Gina became more concerned that something was wrong. Vincent was quiet, his expression pensive. She put her hand on his thigh reassuringly and he jumped.

"What's bothering you, baby?" Gina asked.

"I'm sorry Mom, I'm just...nervous..."

"What about? I mean...everyone knows you're my son and you're coming as a favor to me...so no one's going to suspect anything..."

"No, it isn't that. I'm just...I'm afraid I'm going to embarrass you."

Gina laughed.

"What? You've never embarrassed me..."

"Yeah but...Dad was a natural at this stuff. He got along with everyone, he could make everyone laugh. He made a good impression."

"He made me look better by being with me," Gina agreed. "But you're forgetting something."

"What's that?"

"He was a lot older than you. He'd had his whole life to become what he was. You're still growing into yourself..."

"But what if I...I'm sorry. I'm freaking out a little bit. I never dress up and do this stuff and you look so amazing and..."

Vincent trailed off. Gina smiled and ran her hand through his hair gently as he drove. She loved the focused look he got at times like this, even if she wished he felt better. 

"You need something to distract yourself, young man," Gina said, with a sly smile.

"W-what do you mean?"

"I think you know, baby," Gina said, motherly tone turned seductive, "do you want Mommy to make it alll better?"

"Wh-what?"

"I mean, do you want to cum in Mommy's mouth, Vincent? Just find a place to park so I don't cause a wreck. I'll take care of you."

At first he thought she was joking, and then was worried about being even more late, and then he just thought: What the fuck is the matter with me? Mom wants to blow me in the car right now and I'm worried about being on time?

Vincent turned off of the busy road and drove quickly. He growled as his mother found his hard cock even as he pulled into a deserted corporate parking lot. The lights was off, and it looked like everyone had gone home, but honestly he didn't care. He was suddenly even hornier than he had been when he saw her come out in that dress. 

Vincent stopped and Gina was giggling already and undoing his fly.

"I haven't done anything like this for years," Gina said. "It's so naughty...put your hand on the back of my neck, baby and just...use me. Move me up and down your cock like I'm just your toy."

"Will you be okay, Mom?"

"Yes. You're sweet but...force me, Vincent," Gina said, almost panting. "Please. It will absolutely get me off."

Gina, reached into his pants and slowly and carefully pulled his cock out, much the same way she would have eaten a delicious chocolate. When she took him in her mouth, she was careful to angle herself so she could look her son in the eyes. He groaned and she assumed a more comfortable position. It was important to her to be as desirable as possible. To be...and her thoughts stopped. 

Vincent had put his hand on the back of her neck. He was careful not to put his hand in her hair the way he wanted to, as he knew that would muss it. Gina felt a strange new wave of arousal as she realized that she'd raised such a considerate young man. 

"You're gorgeous like this, mom," Vincent said. His voice was hoarse with desire but he was much more in control than he had been when they'd started fucking. He was a quick learner. All Gina could do was moan as he suddenly pushed her head down with enough force to surprise her, but not so far that it hurt her. 

Gina gagged as he was suddenly deep in her throat, but forced herself to keep her focus. She had to remember that she was doing this for him. She was his object, her purpose to please and relax him. He was grunting now, forcing her head down harder and faster as she went. She knew that she must be quite wet by now. 

Gina lost track of time. It could have been a minute or a half-hour, but suddenly her son groaned in a masculine, demanding way, and he was cumming. Her tongue was covered in his cum, her mouth too full, overflowing into her throat and dribbling down her chin. She swallowed as fast as she could. It wouldn't do to spit out something so important as her son's semen. 

Vincent finally released her neck. Gina hadn't cum, but she was vibrating all over, and knew that if she had to stand, her legs would be too wobbly to support her. He had been perfect. She looked up, and smiled innocently at her son. To Vincent, she looked like a saint. With a single finger she wiped the droplet of escaped cum from her chin, and sucked it off as though it were the most delicious treat.

"Better?" She asked.

Vincent sighed.

"Much. Thank you, Mom."

"Anything for you, Vincent. Anything."

And then Vincent was zipping up, and they were getting back on the road.

* * *

A short time of comfortable silence passed as Vincent drove.

"This has already been a really great night for me Mom," he said, voice much more relaxed. "But all I've done for you so far is drive. I think I owe you."

Gina laughed softly. She felt good about having been able to help him.

"You do enough for me every day, Vincent. And I think you do enough for the girls, too. They already know they can rely on you. I think you need to live your own life, too. I worry that...maybe...I shouldn't have told you about how I felt. How I was raised."

"Do you regret what we've done, Mom?"

"No. Not at all. I love every minute we've spent together as...well...more than mother and son. I just...I mean...you should be out seeing girls your age. You should be getting laid with...um..."

"Girls like you when you were younger?" Vincent said, laughing.

"Well, yes. Girls like me and Raquel and Linda. They're out there. And...you know...we were all kind of slutty but we never cheated. We were each good dates and girlfriends in our own way. I just don't want you to miss out on your forever girl because...you're stuck on me."

"What if you are my forever girl, Mom? Have you thought of that?"

"Vincent...you know that's not the case."

"Are you sure? Do you feel like I don't love you enough? Do you feel like you don't love me enough? Because I've never felt this way about anyone else, ever. So if I meet someone, then I guess they need to be okay with me fucking my mom. Because I'm not going to stop"

"God, I don't think any girls are going to be happy with that."

"Then I guess you're stuck with me," Vincent said with a smirk. "Oh...this looks like it."

Vincent pulled into a parking lot next to a large hotel. He tried not to look intimidated but he could tell immediately that this was far fancier than any place he'd ever been to before.

"Where do I park?" He asked, almost to himself.

"You don't. Pull up there. They have valet parking," Gina said.

"Oh," Vincent said, feeling simple. He thought of his mother again, sitting next to him in that devastating little black dress. Did he really come anywhere near her level of sophistication and class? Was he going to embarrass her? Then he remembered her mouth wrapped around his cock, and the nervous thoughts faded away.

* * *

The size of the affair had been a bit bewildering. There were hundreds of people here, and Vincent's mom seemed to know all of them. 

"Oh my god you must be Vincent. You look a lot like your dad. But you've got your mom's eyes,"

The speaker, a lovely blonde woman a bit older than Gina, said something that had been expressed quite a bit at the party. Vincent was flattered by the comparison. He'd always looked up to his father, and as it turned out there were a lot of people here who shared his impression.

They all knew about his father's passing, of course, and he caught more than one pitying look. Especially from the women. Often mixed with undisguised lust. Before he started sleeping with his mother he never would have known the signs, but they were there. He was a bit grateful for his mother wrapping her arm around his, almost territorially. 

It seemed to keep the she-wolves at bay.

Of course, Gina was drawing a lot of attention as well. Quite a few men and one woman had approached her flirtatiously once they learned that Vincent was her son and not her "actual" date. When they did, it set off an uncomfortable spark of jealousy in him. She was his.

Immediately after he felt a wash of guilt. Their relationship was...unique, but Gina was still her own woman. She still made the money that paid for the house, supported him in every way possible, and still was a great mom to his sisters. Even realizing this, as the night went on, his brief flares of possessive anger grew more and more intense. 

After spending an hour or so mingling among the many people, eating, and chatting, Gina looked at her son. She was thinking to ask him if he was still having fun. She could stay until the party ended, but she was conscientious of Vincent. When she caught his eye, however, she found his gaze to be almost frightening. She knew immediately what Vincent was thinking. His jealousy aroused her immediately.

"A-are you all right?" she asked.

Vincent took her arm, gently, and began to lead her away from their table and out of the ballroom. Away from people. Away from anything. Gina went, willingly. Eagerly. But she did not walk faster. She realized almost immediately what he needed and wanted, and she intended to give it to him.

And to do that, she had to be a bit...provocative.

"I think I need your help with something, mom. Maybe we could talk where its quiet."

Vincent led them into the hall, and then down another one. The cheap hotel-carpet muffled all sound from the party in the ballroom. They were alone.

"Are you all right, Vincent?" Gina asked. She knew her son was upset, but it was hard to read how.

"He fucking touched your arm, mom," Vincent said, deadpan. His voice was so firm it set a frisson up Gina's spine.

"Why, Vincent. If I didn't know better I would say you're jealous of the attention I'm getting," Gina said, fluttering her eyelashes just enough to be infuriating.

Vincent's nostrils flared, and for just a moment his anger flared again before being replaced with shame. This was his mother. It didn't matter what their relationship had become. He loved her. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to regain control. He only opened them when he felt Gina's hand on his chest. She was, to his surprise, smiling at him.

"It's all right, Vincent. Being a little possessive, even jealous, is just human. The key is what you do with it. Bad men hurt their wives and girlfriends. Good men talk to them."

"I'm sorry, mom. I guess I still feel like I'm not good enough...and seeing all these people openly hit on you..."

Gina nodded sympathetically.

"It's rough. I can't stand watching girls flirt with you, either. And I can see you're full of frustration and energy. And I bet you're hard as a rock, too."

Vincent nodded. Gina took his arm and led him further down the hall, then pulled him sideways into another room. 

"Perfect," Gina said. Vincent looked around the room. It wasn't that large, just a room with an oval table, comfortable chairs surrounding it, and a large television with speakers and cameras for video conferencing. A fairly standard meeting room. 

"What are we doing here, mom?"

"Well...you were good enough to tell me how you felt. And frankly, it won't do for my man to feel so threatened. Maybe you need reassurances. Maybe I need to be reminded as to who owns me."

"Right here?"

"Right here. Unless you don't want to. I mean, we can always wait until...aaah!"

Gina couldn't help but cry out as Vincent grabbed her, but it wasn't fear that motivated her. Just as she understood her son so well, he already knew exactly what she needed. How she needed to be reminded. Her son had taken her arms in his hands, from behind, firmly and suddenly, but not violently. He slowly pushed her to the edge of the table, forcing her forward, forcing her to bend as she couldn't move any more. She felt her skirt ride up, and cool air on her ass. A stinging spank rang out, and Gina made a noise between a moan and a whimper. 
"Vincent!" Gina said. She had nothing to add. Her son's name had become a proclamation of love, and need. Another spank, this time on the other side. Gina couldn't wait but she couldn't find the words to beg. Instead she bent further, arching her back. 

"Mom," Vincent groaned, seeing his mother presenting for him so wantonly. He could be in charge, but he was powerless to resist her when she was like this. She was his perfect lure. He unzipped himself and pulled his stiff cock out. With what remained of his patience, he pushed his mother's panties to one side, then rammed himself inside of Gina. She yelped

Vincent knew that he could not take his time. Someone could come in at any moment. Or come looking for them if they were missed. He took hold of his mother's hips and began pounding into her from behind. Every thrust seemed to bring a sound out of her, and he grunted and moaned in return. He had learned that his mother loved to hear his noises. 

If she hadn't already had sex with her son, Gina would have been shocked at how quickly she came on his cock. There was no build up, and she had honestly been close all night after blowing Vincent in the car. She shook and quivered and for just a moment, lost all sense of time. It was the ferocity of the fucking she was still receiving that brought her back to reality.

Gina felt herself bouncing with every thrust, almost out of the dress. It was not designed for this kind of...activity. She wished there was a mirror in front of so she could see how she looked. She wished Vincent could see, too. He was the only man that could reduce her to this state, almost feral in her need, slutty beyond thought or reason. She often felt self-conscious of her body, but with her son she felt none of that. She knew he loved every curve, every bit of her. She knew he appreciated how her body shifted and jiggled. With him she was the sexiest woman alive, and that made her fall in love with him all over again.

Vincent grunted as he increased his speed. The sight of his mother bent over would have been enough to require him to jerk off, but being in public like this, seeing Gina abase herself like this, watching her ass bounce as he slammed inside of her, seeing her wetness leaving his cock shining...it was beyond anything he had fantasized about.

"I love you," he groaned, before letting spurt after spurt of thick cum inside his mother. Gina gasped and came as well, clutching at the table helplessly, almost entirely from hearing his exclamation.

For a long minute they sat like that, him still inside of her. Gina panted and sobbed, almost overwhelmed. After a moment, she felt her son's hand rubbing her back, slowly, affectionately. She smiled and turned to look up at her son.

"Better?" She said.

"Better." He smiled back.

* * *

The rest of the night was satisfying and revealing for Gina. Vincent was, again, the perfect companion. Both of them couldn't help but touch each other secretly. Hands, legs, under the table, on the small of her back. Men still flirted with her, and she still politely rebuffed them. Women still looked with something approaching want at her son, but he ignored them. Occasionally Gina found herself glaring at someone who continued to gaze at her son too openly. Gina and Vincent were truly ideal for one another. 

When the night ended, Vincent felt almost sad. He had enjoyed the party, and not just the part in the back room. He got in the car as the valet got out and his mother sat beside him. The ride home was quiet for a few minutes, until Vincent felt his mother's hand on his leg.

"Are you all right, Mom? I got pretty, um...intense there," Vincent said, almost ashamed.

"I feel very...loved, Vincent. As loved as I did when your father was alive. And for that, I am grateful. Even if you never use me again, I won't ever forget this."

There was another long silence as Vincent processed the gratitude and love in her voice. 

"I...I'm still getting used to 'using' you, Mom. I'm...I'm still not sure about things. Is that weird?"

"Not to me. Never to me. How are you feeling right now, Vincent? About us, I mean."

"I don't know. I mean...I love you, Mom. And I love the sex. You have to know that. But I'm worried."

"Worried?"

"Worried I'm taking advantage of you. Since dad died you've been...well..."

"I've been a terrible mother. I know."

"No. Not at all. But you've been sad and vulnerable. I wanted you, but I want to be...the right kind of man for you. Not the kind who takes advantage of a woman in need, but the kind that takes care of her."

"Well, I'm still sad sometimes, but not nearly as often, and definitely as vulnerable, but I'm not worried. You're not taking advantage of me. You're taking care of me. You're also making use of me. And I'm much better for it.."

"That's fine, Mom. I've accepted that even if there is something wrong with what we're doing, I can't stop now. I'm in love with you. And I'm addicted to your body. Are those the same thing? I don't know. But I don't ever want it to just be about sex between us. When we...when I use you, I want you to know that I love you and I care for you."

Gina sniffed, just a bit. She refused to cry. She'd had enough tears.

"I know. And when you're ready and find someone else, you can move on and there won't be any hurt feelings from me. I'll always be your mother, and I'll always be here when you need to use me again. I love being yours, Vincent, and I don't mind being your dirty little secret."

Gina reached out and took put her hand over her sons as he shifted gears. She waited until he reached a steady speed, then took his hand and placed it on her thigh, before sliding it up to her pussy. The panties that covered it were soaked with what they had done earlier.

"Mom," Vincent growled.

Gina giggled in response, before moaning slightly. It was likely that her little provocations were going to earn her another harsh fucking tonight, but that was fine.

"This belongs to you, baby. Just like my heart. Remember that, and everything will be fine."

* * *

"And really, everything since then has been much better for the both of us. Vincent comes home and helps with his sisters. I come home from work. We often cook dinner together. And then, later, he fucks me senseless. My only regret is that we can't sleep together afterwards."

Gina knelt, nude, at her son's feet as she finished her story. Vincent stroked her hair gently. In the world she had to be in charge a great deal of the time. But here, she could wear her elegant velvet choker (a gift from her son and a proud mark of ownership) and be his property, the way she wanted. She knew that in a moment, he would want her to pleasure him with her mouth, and she would be happy to do so, even in front of the other members.

It was, all in all, la bella vita.