﻿Only Teasing

by Pan



Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2021-03-27
Packaged: 2024-02-16 22:47:22
Chapters: 13
Words: 17,219
Publisher: mcstories.com
Story URL: https://mcstories.com/OnlyTeasing/index.html
Author URL: https://mcstories.com/Authors/Pan.html
Summary: Cecil’s mother finds herself wearing less and less around the house. There’s nothing wrong with that, right? It’s only teasing.
Erotica Tags: in, mc, md, mf





TABLE OF CONTENTS


Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13



	Chapter 1

Tags: mc, mf, md, in

Synopsis: Cecil’s mother finds herself wearing less and less around the house. There’s nothing wrong with that, right? It’s only teasing.

Author’s note: This tale is a tribute to the magnificent works of JAPA, which are (unfortunately) no longer on the archive.

A small thrill ran through me as I decided what I was going to wear that day.

The more mature part of me told me to wear the slacks. I was just going to be hanging around the house; they were smart, practical.

The obvious choice.

I dismissed that voice entirely, and chose the dress. It’s not like it was _particularly_ revealing…at least, not unless you wore it without a bra.

I didn’t put a bra on. Panties, either.

Nothing wrong with that. After all…I was only teasing.

* * *

My son Cecil started getting headaches about six months ago. At first we thought it was a problem with his glasses, then his diet, then we were worried about stress…finally, we were referred to a specialist.

He couldn’t work out what it was, but he did find a drug that got rid of them entirely. I can’t tell you what a relief it was—ever since Cecil’s father left, he’s been the centre of my life, and seeing my baby boy in pain…well, it was almost as bad for me as it was for him.

Now, Cecil takes the pills twice a day and everything is back to normal.

He’s been on the drug for three months now, and it’s so lovely. Every time I see him, I can’t help but smile.

And every time he sees me, he smiles as well.

That’s what made me notice, actually. I was cleaning out the fridge, and I turned around to see Cecil watching me, an odd smile on his face.

“Hey boyo,” I said, standing up and turning to face him. For a second—just a second—his eyes flicked down to my cleavage.

Nothing odd about that, of course. He’s just a normal, healthy male, and…well, if I’m being honest, I have more than an average amount of cleavage to display.

What _was_ odd was my reaction. Normally I’d just let it go, return to cleaning…but at the sight of my boy’s reaction to his mother’s breasts, I couldn’t resist pulling my shoulders back, giving him something to look at.

_After all,_ I told myself. _It’s harmless._

_I’m only teasing._

To my delight, Cecil was unable to resist looking at the two perky (if I do say so myself) treats that I put on offer, and a huge grin spread across my face.

For the rest of the day, I was glowing. After all, I was only teasing. It’s not like I had lifted my shirt up and showed him my bra…or what was underneath.

Pushing your boobs out slightly? That’s totally harmless. Every woman does it.

I’m only 41, but it’s been a while since anyone paid attention to my body…especially a teenager like Cecil. It was nice. It was validating—it showed me that the hours I’d put in at the gym lately weren’t wasted, that taking care of my body paid off.

And, of course, it reminded me how much men like tits.

The next morning, making breakfast, I couldn’t resist teasing Cecil just a tiny bit more. His eyes were on me as soon as he entered the room, and—just as I had the previous day—I pulled my shoulders back and put the girls on display.

Again, his eyes drifted down to them immediately, and again that warm glow filled my whole body.

_I’m only teasing,_ I reminded myself with a smile. _It’s totally harmless—there’s nothing wrong with a teenage boy checking out a sexy woman._

Sexy woman. I liked that. Me, a sexy woman. I was a sexy woman.

I was a sexy woman, and there was nothing wrong with a bit of teasing.

That afternoon, when Cecil got back from school, I decided to take it a bit further. I’d gone through my entire wardrobe to find the top with the most cleavage, and changed into it just before my son returned. Then, once he joined me in the kitchen, I poured myself a huge glass of milk and started to gulp it down.

A small part of me was worried that milk was too obvious a choice, but as soon as Cecil’s eyes were on me, all my concerns faded away.

After all, I was only teasing.

Some of the milk spilled out the sides of the glass, dribbled down my face, and landed on my exposed bosom. I noticed Cecil’s eyes widen as the white liquid dripped onto my generous cleavage, and the warm glow grew.

I was a sexy woman. No, more than that—I was a hot bitch. I was a hot bitch, and I could tell that I was turning Cecil on.

_Nothing wrong with that,_ I reminded myself. _I’m only teasing._

Finishing the glass, I glanced down at my milky tits.

“Whoops!” I said with an uncharacteristic giggle. “What happened there?”

Cecil’s smile as I carefully dabbed at my boobs with a napkin kept me glowing all night long.

* * *

“Jesus, Mom,” Cecil said as he saw the outfit I’d picked out. “You look amazing.”

Blood rushed to my cheeks at his words, and I couldn’t resist doing a little spin. The dress had definitely been the right choice—my only complaint was that it was a little longer than I would have liked, ending at my knees. My legs are my second-best feature, and I didn’t feel like my current outfit did quite enough to show them off.

_Of course,_ I suddenly realized as Cecil stared at me, _I could go shopping. I could go shopping and buy some sexier clothes to wear around the house._

_There’s nothing wrong with dressing sexy for my son. I’m a hot bitch, and it’s totally harmless._

Yes, I decided. I was going to go and buy something sexier for Cecil to see me in. After all, I was his mother—it wasn’t like anything could happen.

I was only teasing.


	Chapter 2

I almost swooned at the power of Cecil’s stare when he saw the clothes I’d bought.

At the checkout and for most of the ride home, I’d been concerned that they were too much. As soon as my son laid his eyes on the outfit I’d bought, I knew that they’d been the right choice.

After all, it wasn’t like Cecil had told me to buy them. That would have been weird, and wrong. No, I was an independent woman, who had decided—of her own accord—to start dressing sexier around the house.

I, and I alone, had decided to start dressing like the hot bitch that I was.

And I could see that my choices were having the desired effect—Cecil couldn’t stop staring at my long, exposed legs, at the three-inch heels that I’d been unable to resist picking up, and the cleavage practically overflowing from my vest-top.

I’d realized that for more effective teasing, not wearing lingerie wasn’t actually the best option: while I was at the mall, I’d picked up a range of pushup bras (with panties in matching colors—the pair I had on were slowly getting wetter at Cecil’s lustful gaze).

_I’m a hot bitch,_ I reminded myself. _I want to show off my body. There’s nothing wrong with that—it’s only teasing._

I stood there, chest out, fingers itching to lift up my grey skirt and flash my son my panties (now _that_ would be teasing) for almost ten minutes until I couldn’t hold out any longer.

“I’ve got to go,” I panted, and practically sprinted upstairs to my room…no small effort in heels.

_I’m a sexy woman,_ I told myself as I threw my body down on the bed and slipped one hand up my skirt. Something about Cecil’s gaze had made me so _wet_ , and I was unable to resist the temptation to get myself off.

“I’m a hot bitch,” I muttered. “I’m a hot bitch who loves showing off her body.”

My fingers quickly made their way underneath my panties, and soon I was shuddering in desperate orgasm. Only after I’d cum did I realize what I’d done—I’d been in such a hurry to get off that I hadn’t even shut the door properly, and Cecil was standing just outside, staring straight at me.

For some reason, this didn’t worry me.

_So what if he sees me cum?_ I asked myself. _Masturbation is normal._

_I should cum in front of my son more often._

A smile slowly crept across my face, and I tried to act as though I hadn’t even noticed Cecil standing outside the door. Bringing my hand up to my face, I loudly smelled my fingers, enjoying the scent of my own juices.

“Mmmmm,” I moaned, shutting my eyes, hoping my son was still outside the door, still watching his mother. My other hand reached behind me to unzip my skirt, and soon I was laying on the bed wearing just my bra and panties, as I sucked my own cum off the tip of my fingers.

_I’m a wet, horny slut,_ I told myself. _But it’s totally harmless. I should cum in front of my son more often—it’s only teasing._

The urgency had worn off, and my second orgasm was more for his pleasure than my own. I slowly ran my fingers up and down my exposed skin, shivering at the contact, hoping Cecil was close enough to see the goosebumps forming, the blood rushing to the surface. I grasped my breasts through the bra, bucking my hips off the bed, and stroked my pussy-lips through my soaking wet panties.

It was more than twenty minutes later when I finally came again, two fingers slowly pumping in and out of my slit, my nipples threatening to burst out of my bra, and my ass red from where I’d been unable to resist spanking it.

When the red haze of orgasm passed, I looked up to find the hallway empty—Cecil had gone.

Laying there in the afterglow that you only get from truly good sex, a thought struck me.

What the hell was I doing?

_I’m a wet, horny slut._

I’d just cum in front of my son—hell, more than that. I’d put on a show for him. I’d pulled my own hair, spent several minutes on all fours, spanking my ass as I squeezed my left tit so hard I could still feel it throbbing.

_I should cum in front of my son more often,_ I reminded myself…but no, that wasn’t right. What I was doing was wrong. What I had done was _wrong_.

_It’s completely harmless._

Is it? I was sure that putting on a sex show for your teenaged son wasn’t normal, wasn’t harmless. There was something seriously wrong, and it had to stop. Whatever I was doing, it needed to stop…starting with all the new clothes I’d bought.

_I’m a hot bitch._

Maybe I could keep some of the new clothes. I just had to make sure that I wasn’t parading around in front of my son in my underwear—it was important that Cecil saw me as his mother, first and foremost, and not some kind of…sex object.

_I’m a sexy woman._

Admittedly, even in my old clothes, it must have been hard for Cecil to ignore the fact that his mother was…well, that his mother was stacked. I stood up, and looked at myself in the mirror. Even after so many years with them, I still sometimes impress myself with my tits.

_I love showing off my body._

Obviously I could never again do…what I’d just done. But that didn’t mean I had to dress like a prude. I had a fantastic body, and Cecil obviously appreciated it.

_I love showing off my body._

Sure, he might have been my son, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a hot-blooded male.

_I’m a sexy woman._

I could hide my curves under clothing, but it wouldn’t stop him from imagining what I looked like…or, after today’s performance, simply remembering what was underneath them.

_I’m a hot bitch._

No, it made sense to dress however I liked around the house.

_It’s completely harmless._

It wasn’t like seeing the female form was going to do any damage to the kid. Let him see what a real woman looked like—it would prepare him for life, after all.

_I should cum in front of my son more often._

And hell, I’m a hot-blooded female myself. Of course the attention of a man is going to turn me on…what was I meant to do, refrain from getting myself off?

_I’m a wet, horny slut._

If Cecil happened to see me getting myself off, and if I happened to get off from showing him, what was the harm in that?

After all, it was only teasing.


	Chapter 3

I had a lot of fun at dinner that night.

Cecil, to his credit, tried not to stare when I first sat down. But I could tell he was struggling, and as soon as I leaned forward, he lost the fight.

I was wearing this magnificent grey sweater that I’d picked up at the mall that day—it had been labelled as a “cleavage sweater” and I can assure you, it didn’t disappoint. Combined with the pale blue pushup bra, I was impressed that my son’s eyes didn’t fall out of his body.

_It’s only teasing,_ I reminded myself as he blatantly ogled me, the warm glow returning to my body. _It’s totally harmless._

For the rest of the meal, his eyes never left my chest. As always, I did the talking for both of us—as Cecil wordlessly ate the delicious home-cooked meal I’d made for him, I talked about my plans for the week ahead, different options I was considering for meals, how often I was probably going to get myself off.

He almost choked on his chicken at that—I tried not to smile as his eyes widened in shock. Not that it would have mattered—his attention never left my copious cleavage, not for a second.

_I’m a hot bitch,_ I reminded myself. Proud of my sexuality, unashamed to be a woman. _There’s nothing wrong with a bit of dirty talk._

And maybe letting him know when he should come up to my bedroom door and watch me.

_I should cum in front of my son more often._

As my son ate, I couldn’t help but wonder if he was hard. Now _that_ was an inappropriate thought for a mother to have…

_My son is a healthy male. If he gets turned on by my body, that’s totally natural._

Although frankly, it would have been more strange if he wasn’t hard. After all, I was all but thrusting my tits into his face (now there’s a thought) and he’d just seen me cum. Didn’t it make total sense for that to turn him on?

Wouldn’t it be stranger if he _wasn’t_ turned on by the sight of a pair of boobs? Especially a pair like mine?

_I’m only teasing—it’s completely harmless. I’m a hot bitch, and my son is a healthy male. I’m a wet, horny slut, and if he gets turned on by my body…that’s totally natural._

If only there was some way that I could check. As I continued prattling on, teasing my son by telling him my favorite positions to masturbate in and the wicked thoughts that ran through my head as I did, I considered making an excuse to crawl under the table and try to spot his hardness.

Of course, it might not be visible. He was wearing cargo shorts, baggy ones—maybe his erection would get lost in the folds.

A sly smile appeared on my face as I worked out _exactly_ how to tell if my son was hard. Slipping off one of the yellow high-heeled shoes I’d worn to dinner, I reached out with my stocking-covered leg and slowly moved it between Cecil’s legs.

_It’s completely harmless._

_If he gets turned on by my body, that’s totally natural._

I hadn’t thought Cecil’s eyes could get any wider, but when he felt the touch of my foot between his legs, he somehow managed. It didn’t take long for my toes to find his erection—as I suspected, he was totally hard.

My original intent had just been to check if Cecil was hard, but…

_It’s only teasing._

A grin appeared on my face, and broadened as my son’s breathing grew ragged. We sat there in silence for a few minutes as my stockinged foot began slowly rubbing his erection through his shorts. I leaned forward, enjoying the effect that my teasing was having on Cecil, enjoying the throbbing glow that filled my body as I teased him.

_I’m a sexy woman. If my son gets turned on by my body, that’s totally natural._

_I’m a hot bitch._

The silence stretched on, my heavy breathing the only sound that could be heard. After a few minutes, a thought struck me, and I realized how I could _really_ tease my son.

_There’s nothing wrong with a bit of dirty talk._

As I rubbed my son’s crotch through his pants with the pale blue stockings I’d worn to match my bra and increasingly-wet panties, I started talking about my sexual fantasies again. How much I enjoyed the feel of a man’s hands on my body, how easily I came when someone nibbled on my ear, how turned on I was by the feeling of hot breath on my throat…

_I’m a wet, horny slut._

I considered telling him how wet I was at that very moment, how much I’d appreciate a hard cock between my lips, between my tits, between my legs…but I held off. After all, dirty talk was harmless—it was only teasing—but this was, after all, my son.

One had to draw the line somewhere.

As I spoke, my son was fixated on my lips, as they spewed such filthy words and ideas.

_I love showing off my body._

_It’s only teasing._

I couldn’t help but pout slightly, even as I told him about how sometimes I’d slip one or two fingers into my needy asshole when I got myself off. My tits were missing the attention of a young, healthy male.

_I love showing off my body._

A wicked thought entered my head, and I started rubbing the front of my son’s shorts faster and faster as my hands reached up, and began unbuttoning my grey sweater. My dirty words never slowed down as I shrugged off the sweater, until I was sitting in front of Cecil, topless but for my bra.

And my other foot slipped out of its shoe and joined the first in rubbing the front of his pants as I undid my bra, allowing the girls to fall into view.

_It’s completely harmless. It’s completely harmless._

Cecil shuddered and twitched, his hips bucking forward as my grin widened.

_If my son gets turned on by my body, it’s perfectly natural._

_It’s only teasing._

As Cecil headed to his room to clean himself up, I couldn’t resist a look at the wet patch that I’d caused.

_God,_ I thought to myself. _I’m a hot bitch._


	Chapter 4

The next few days passed in a glow. I allowed myself all kinds of little thrills from harmlessly teasing my son—wearing short skirts and low-cut tops around the house, occasionally flashing a boob, letting him peek in at me as I got myself off.

After our little adventure at the dinner table, Cecil seemed quite fatigued. He didn’t say a word for a few days, just threw me those cute smiles whenever I managed to catch his attention.

It was nice, having a harmless outlet for being the sexy woman I knew I was around the house. And every time I lay on my bed in the throes of orgasm, knowing—or at least hoping—that Cecil was peeking in on me, I would remind myself of what a hot bitch I was.

At the same time, I was careful to never cross the line. I was his mother, after all—sometimes I’d sneak up behind him, and whisper all sorts of filthy things in his ear, but that was only teasing. I made sure that we never went too far.

My son was a healthy male, and it was perfectly natural for him to get turned on by my body—especially since I enjoyed showing it off so much. 

Sometimes I felt like I should cum in front of him more often, but there’s only so many times one can get off during the day—even a wet, horny slut like myself.

Then, one day, Cecil came home from school, and he looked…I don’t know, rested. Energetic. He stopped to appraise my outfit—I was wearing white thigh-high stockings, and a pleated green dress which ended about a foot above my knee. When I did a little spin (as I did often—I love showing off my body) it would reveal the rose low-waisted panties I had underneath.

He smiled, and the warm glow began throbbing within me with an intensity that I hadn’t felt for days.

_My son is a healthy male,_ I was pleased to notice. _My son is a healthy male…and he has needs._

I mean, he wasn’t the only one. I was a wet, horny slut, and the only action I was getting was my own hands, bringing me off a few times a day while my son (hopefully) watched.

_My son has needs._

“How was school?” I asked, but Cecil didn’t answer, just kept staring at me with that slight smile, while the glow filled my body. I knew that if I twirled at that point, he’d see that my panties were soaked through—I walk around fairly soaked most of the day, but suddenly my needs were overwhelming.

_I’m a wet, horny slut._

_My son has needs._

I started walking towards the kitchen to fetch Cecil a snack—my boy has needs, after all. He’s a healthy male, and so he needed to eat. Pausing in the doorway, a thought struck me.

We’d both enjoyed it when I’d teased Cecil at dinner the other day, teased him until he had a wet spot in his pants. Maybe I could find a new way to tease my son…

_My son has needs, and I’m a wet, horny slut._

Of course, I didn’t want to be too forward. I didn’t want my son to think I was…

_I’m a wet, horny slut._

I hoped that Cecil hadn’t noticed the flush that had spread across my body at the idea of teasing him more directly, of bringing out his erection and getting him off.

_My son has needs._

I would have been embarrassed if he’d noticed how aroused I was getting. I’d hate him to think I was a…

_I’m a wet, horny slut._

No, I was his mother. There were lines I couldn’t cross—using my feet under the table, that was totally harmless, only teasing. If I were to touch…if I were to put my hands on his…

_I’m a wet, horny slut._

God, wouldn’t it be wicked though? I’m such a hot bitch sometimes—just the idea of reaching into my son’s pants, getting him off with my hands…

_I’m a wet, horny slut._

I was panting just thinking about it. Maybe I’d invite him to watch a movie, and then casually begin teasing him. I could play with his thigh, get him all excited, and then…

_I’m a wet, horny slut._

Glancing up, I noticed that Cecil’s face had gone red.

“Are you okay, honey?”

_My son has needs, and I’m a wet, horny slut. I’m a hot bitch. It’s only teasing. It’s completely harmless._

Maybe I should…

_I’m a wet, horny slut._

I sure hoped…

_My son has needs._

“How about I get you that snack?” I asked, and practically ran into the kitchen—well, as fast as one can when they’re wearing five-inch heels. I know, I know, some people think they’re a bit much…but I’m a sexy woman who loves showing off her body. I’m a hot bitch.

That fact was abundantly clear to me as I practically threw myself onto the kitchen table, pushed my panties aside, and slid two fingers into my dripping cunt. I couldn’t believe how wet I was, how horny. I’m a wet, horny slut. I kept repeating the words to myself, over and over again—I’m a wet, horny slut. I’m a wet, horny slut, and my son has needs.

_I should cum in front of my son more often._

That was the thought that stopped me. I couldn’t get myself off in the kitchen, not by myself. After all, Cecil is a healthy male—he has needs.

And getting off in front of him? That was only teasing. It wasn’t like I’d be…

_I’m a wet, horny slut._

“Cecil?” I cried out. “Please…come in here. There’s…there’s something I need to…ohhh!”

_I’m a wet, horny slut._

The door opened, and my son smiled at me again, filling me with that warm glow.

I smiled back at him—in the past, I’d pretended not to notice as he watched me get off, but this time we both knew what we were doing.

Not that there was anything wrong with it, of course. It was only teasing. And if he gets turned on by my body, that’s…

_I’m a wet, horny slut._

I moaned and plunged my fingers back into my slit, and began dirty-talking to my son, telling him how good it felt, how wet I was. It wasn’t long before I was cumming loudly on the kitchen table while my son watched, a smile on his face, the room swimming in that happy glow.

_I’m such a wet, horny slut._


	Chapter 5

After that, it became standard fare for me to get off around the house, no matter where I was. If my son was staring at me, it was suddenly the perfect place to stroke myself until I reached a body-shuddering orgasm.

The living room, the den, the kitchen, the bathroom. Whenever we were in the same room together, I’d push my panties to the side and stimulate myself until I came, dirty-talking all the while.

_It’s only teasing,_ I’d always remind myself. _It’s completely harmless._

But every time I got myself off, I was acutely aware of my son’s needs—he’s a healthy male, after all, and it was totally natural for him to get turned on by my body. Sometimes when I was stroking myself, I’d imagine that I was stroking him, tending to his needs, getting him off.

I couldn’t do it, of course. Using my feet at the table—that had been a one-time thing, that had been a bit of fun.

It was only teasing.

But using my hands…on his cock…

Just the thought was enough to fill me with an overwhelming desire to find the room Cecil was in and get off in front of him.

_If he gets turned on by my body, that’s totally natural._

I was so conflicted…and somehow, I felt like Cecil knew.

And then, one day, I was rubbing my clit in his bedroom (I’d gone in to kiss him goodnight—not on the lips. That would be going too far. My son is a healthy male, after all) when a thought struck me.

_I’m such a cock-tease._

I was so turned on at the time, the idea seemed so sexy. A cock-tease. Someone who teases cocks.

It’s only teasing, and I’m a hot bitch. I’m a sexy woman, and so of course I’m a cock-tease.

It wasn’t until I’d cum in front of Cecil (I love how often I cum in front of my son—it’s completely harmless, and I love showing off my body), let him smell my fingers (My son has needs, and it’s only teasing) and reached my own bed that I started to think about it a little more.

_I’m such a cock-tease._

Was that really a good thing? After all, a cock-tease…my son has needs.

My son has needs, and here I was, being a cock-tease.

_It’s perfectly harmless,_ I reminded myself. _If it’s only teasing, it’s perfectly harmless._

That made me feel better, but still…a cock-tease.

I decided to sleep on it.

* * *

The next morning, I was feeling much better about the whole situation. All night, my dreams has been permeated with that same thought—I’m such a cock-tease.

I’m SUCH a cock-tease.

I’m a sexy woman who loves showing off my body. My son has needs, and if he gets turned on by my body, that’s totally natural.

It’s only teasing…and boy, I am _such_ a cock-tease.

As soon as Cecil walked into the kitchen, it began. I was wearing a set of red lingerie…and nothing else. After all, I’m a hot bitch, and I love showing off my body.

His jaw dropped open…and that’s when I struck.

I sashayed across the room to my son, wrapped my arms around him, and pulled his mouth to mine.

I know, right? I’m such a cock-tease.

As we made out, I felt his hands roaming across my body—it’s totally natural for him to get turned on by my body; he’s a healthy male.

I’m not going to lie—I got pretty turned on as well. After all, I’m a wet, horny slut.

And a helluva cock-tease.

Before long, Cecil was breathing deeply, and I knew he was hard as rock. And that’s when I struck…I pulled back, and kept cooking breakfast.

Cecil just stood there, stunned.

_I’m a wet, horny slut,_ I reminded myself. _I’m a wet, horny slut._

But more than that…I was _such_ a cock-tease.

When I turned around to serve up some pancakes, I noticed that Cecil was frowning. I wasn’t surprised— _my son has needs._

_My son has needs, and I’m a wet, horny slut._

Another grin appeared on my face as I put the plate of hotcakes in front of him—he reached out and tentatively put his hand on my butt. For a moment, I hesitated…

_It’s only teasing. It’s only teasing._

…but then I relaxed, and let him feel the lace, let him slip his hand beneath it and grab my ass.

_My son has needs. It’s completely harmless._

As he ate pancakes with one hand, I let him grope my bare ass with the other.

_I’m a wet, horny slut. My son has needs. My son has needs._

I smiled. I was such a cock-tease. My son had needs, and here I was, a wet, horny slut…

_It’s only teasing. It’s completely harmless._

…teasing his cock perfectly.

When my son finished his pancakes, he looked at me strangely.

_I’m such a cock-tease. I’m such a cock-tease._

I just grinned back to him, and leaned in to kiss him on the lips again.

_It’s completely harmless. If he gets turned on my body, that’s perfectly natural._

_I’m such a cock-tease._

This time, I reached down, and—through the cargo-shorts that Cecil always wears—started slowly, firmly, seductively rubbing his cock.

_There’s nothing wrong with a bit of dirty talk._

I pulled away from the kiss, and moved my lips to his ear.

“You like the feeling of Mommy touching your hard cock?”

_My son has needs._

“God, Mommy’s little boy is so _hard_. Do you want Mommy to make you all better?”

Cecil choked with lust, which was all the reply I needed. My hand sped up slightly, and I lustfully whispered in his ear.

“Mmmmm, I bet you’re all ready to cum. I bet you’re all ready to cum, all over your wet, slutty mother…”

He nodded, and I could tell that he was getting close…

_It’s completely harmless. It’s only teasing._

“Well, my love…”

_My son is a healthy male with needs. If he gets turned on by my body, that’s totally natural._

“…unfortunately for you, your Mommy is _such_ a cock-tease.”

It was all I could do not to laugh as I walked out of the kitchen, leaving Cecil frustrated, horny, and almost certainly staring at my swaying ass moving away from him.


	Chapter 6

I was laying on my bed, desperately trying to deep-throat a thick blue dildo as my son watched.

_I love showing off my body, and I love cumming in front of my son. It’s only teasing._

Giving head has always been one of my talents, and I’ve always enjoyed it.

_If he gets turned on by my body, that’s totally natural._

I love teasing my son, masturbating in front of him and letting him watch me cum. I was _such_ a cock-tease.

_It’s totally harmless._

But as I was almost choking on the fake cock, I realized something.

_Blow-jobs aren’t sex._

My brow furrowed, and I slowly removed the dildo from my throat. It was covered in my saliva, and so I moved it between my legs, gasping as it entered me.

_Blow-jobs aren’t sex._

There was no point in sucking on that fake cock—after all, I was trying to get off, not put on a show.

_I love cumming in front of my son._

Within a few minutes, I was clenching around the blue toy, and Cecil had wandered off. I slipped on a teddy and went to find him.

_Blow-jobs aren’t sex. Blow-jobs aren’t sex. Blow-jobs aren’t sex._

When they’d impeached Clinton, that was what had gotten him off. In both senses. Blow-jobs _aren’t_ sex, otherwise he would have had to step down.

No, blow-jobs aren’t sex.

_It’s only teasing._

I found Cecil in the den—he was laying back. His eyes were closed, but I could tell he was awake—it looked like he was concentrating really hard on something.

_Blow-jobs aren’t sex. Blow-jobs aren’t sex._

_My son has needs._

A smile crept across my face, and I realized: this was the perfect opportunity to tease him.

_I’m a hot bitch._

I just loved teasing my son—it reminded me what a sexy woman I was. A few times now, I’d rubbed my son’s cock through his pants—once to orgasm, with my feet, but mostly I’d bring him to the brink with my hands and then walk away.

_It’s only teasing._

I was always trying to find new and creative ways to tease him.

_I’m a hot bitch._

I’d found a website that let me order lingerie online, and so I had new deliveries coming to the house every few days.

_If he gets turned on by my body, that’s totally natural. My son is a healthy male._

Just the day prior, instead of wearing a bra, I’d covered my breasts with whipped cream…

_My son has needs._

…and then let him lick it off.

_It’s only teasing._

I loved feeling sexy again. Once you turn forty, it’s like the world forgets you’re a _woman_.

Well, not Cecil.

Not my son.

_It’s completely harmless._

I was so glad that we were close enough to tease each other like this. I loved my boy so much.

_My son has needs._

And seeing him there, concentrating so hard—probably on school, poor dear—I knew exactly how I was going to tease him.

_Blow-jobs aren’t sex. Blow-jobs aren’t sex. Blow-jobs aren’t sex._

As I approached my son, his breathing got heavier. Whatever assignment he was mentally working on, whatever problem he was trying to solve, it sure seemed like a tricky one.

_Blow-jobs aren’t sex. It’s only teasing. It’s totally harmless._

He didn’t even stir as I reached up one of the legs of his baggy shorts, and wrapped my hand around his cock. My eyes widened as I realized what I was doing…this was my _son_ , and I was touching his bare cock…

_I’m such a cock-tease._

I smiled—I was touching his bare cock.

_It’s only teasing._

I frowned—he was so worked up already…

_My son has needs._

My son has needs, and here I was, teasing him. I loosened my grip on his thick erection, and I heard him grunt with frustration.

_I’m a wet, horny slut. If he gets turned on by my body, that’s totally natural._

No. No, I couldn’t do this—my poor Cecil. Constantly being teased by a wet, horny slut—he couldn’t help getting turned on!

I was the adult here. I was the one to blame.

And I couldn’t do this.

I got off my knees, and started to leave. At the door, I paused, and looked back at Cecil—he was practically dripping with sweat. I wondered what he was working on that required such exertion.

_I’m such a cock-tease_

_I’m such a cock-tease_

_I’m such a cock-tease_

_I’m such a cock-tease_

As I looked at him, a cruel thought entered my brain.

I am SUCH a cock-tease.

I knew that the right thing to do was to leave my darling boy to concentrate, to let him focus on his studies. A good mother would go upstairs and cook him a delicious meal, maybe clean his room and make his bed.

But me?

I was _such_ a cock-tease.

I was such a cock-tease that I couldn’t resist crossing the room, kneeling back in front of Cecil, and undoing his pants.

I was such a cock-tease that I couldn’t resist running my hands up and down his thickness, grinning at the sight of the erection in front of me.

I was such a cock-tease that even though I knew it was an objectively awful thing to do, I had to tease him. I had to bring him to the brink of orgasm—god, it’s so awful to think about oneself, but it’s true. I am such a cock-tease.

_Blow-jobs aren’t sex._

What Cecil needed was to get laid. That would relieve his tension, that would make my son happy.

Right then and there, that was what my son needed.

_I’m such a cock-tease_

But I was such a cock-tease—and his _mother_ —that he certainly wasn’t to get it from me.

_Blow-jobs aren’t sex. It’s only teasing._

_It’s completely harmless._

No, all he was going to get from me was something completely innocent. All he was going to get from his hot bitch of a mother was some head.

I tucked my grinning teeth away, and brought my mouth to the head of his penis. As I engulfed Cecil’s erection in my mouth, he gave a huge sigh of relief.

I still felt cruel, teasing my son like this, but there was something hot about it, too. Turning a healthy male like Cecil on, making him so hard, so worked up…and then further teasing him with a blow-job.

_I’m a wet, horny slut._

As I swallowed down my son’s cum, a warm glow filled my body. I felt so good about myself—I may have been over 40, but I could still work a teenage boy up and then go down on him.

I was still a hot bitch, a sexy woman.

And _such_ a cock-tease.


	Chapter 7

I’m a wet, horny slut.

It’s true! I hate to say it, but it’s true.

I’m a wet, horny slut. And I’m _such_ a cock-tease.

I’m a wet, horny, slut. I’m a sexy woman. I love showing off my body.

And my son? He’s a healthy male.

My son has needs.

So I suppose it was inevitable: after I blew my son for the first time, I just couldn’t stop.

I’m a wet, horny slut.

Blow-jobs aren’t sex, thank goodness. It’s completely harmless. My son has needs, and if he gets turned on by my body, it’s perfectly natural.

I started doing it several times a day.

I mean, it was obviously bringing us closer. This warm glow filled my entire body every time I got Cecil off, each time I wrapped my lips around his cock and bobbed my head until he filled my mouth with his seed.

_My son is a healthy male,_ I’d think each time I swallowed it down, _I’m such a cock-tease._

I really enjoyed teasing my son’s cock.

My son has needs. As I blew him again and again, day after day, I remembered that. He looked so…tired. He spent most of his time in his room, the door closed, the lights off.

I turned a lamp on the first time I came in to give him a blow-job (I’m such a cock-tease), but his face scrunched up with pain, and so I turned it off straight away.

A full week went on like this—me coming into Cecil’s room with a meal for him, blowing him with the lights out, then quietly leaving to get myself off in my own bed.

What can I say? I’m a hot bitch.

I knew that I should cum in front of my son more often, but the poor little fellow was just clearly not up to it. And so I’d get off by myself, slowly pumping toys in and out of my wetness until I came to yet another shuddering orgasm.

Finally, eight days after the first time I’d blown him, Cecil emerged from his room. He was pale, but he finally looked like he was getting back to normal.

To celebrate, I dropped to my knees in front of him. I’m a sexy woman, and my son has needs.

I love showing off my body, so I was overjoyed when Cecil stared down at me, checking me out through his glasses.

If he gets turned on by my body, that’s totally natural.

I started to undo his pants when a thought struck me.

_There’s nothing wrong with a bit of dirty talk._

“God,” I said, looking up at my darling son. “I can’t wait to get this thick slab of meat in my mouth. I fucking love sucking your cock, do you know that? I’m such a wet, horny slut for it. Your hard cock turns me on so much.”

Cecil didn’t say anything in response. He just nodded, and I took his erection into my smiling mouth.

I loved sucking his cock so much. I mean, what would you expect? I’m a wet, horny slut. I’m a sexy woman.

I’m a hot bitch.

As I started joyfully gagging on his dick, a thought struck me.

_I should cum in front of my son more often._

I’d spent the last week slinking off into my own room to cum, like I was ashamed of it.

I wasn’t ashamed of anything. I love showing off my body. I’m a sexy woman. Besides, it’s completely harmless.

_I should cum in front of my son more often._

I was dressed in a set of red lingerie that had arrived in the mail the previous day. Without slowing down my son’s blow-job (I’m such a cock-tease, but I’m not _cruel_ ) for a second, I slipped my bra off, allowing my tits to drop into view.

Cecil’s eyes widened, and a warm glow filled the house.

I love showing off my body.

As I continued to bob my head up and down on Cecil’s boner, I wriggled out of the panties as well.

There I was, completely nude, giving my son head. I’m such a cock-tease.

For a brief moment, I wondered if there was anything wrong with what I was doing.

Of course not, I reasoned. Blow-jobs aren’t sex. It’s only teasing.

It’s completely harmless.

_I should cum in front of my son more often._

Cecil’s eyes on my body, his cock in my mouth—it was starting to get me worked up. A wicked thought entered my head.

_I should cum in front of my son more often._

What if I were to play with myself as I blew him? God that would be naughty.

_It’s only teasing._

_I should cum in front of my son more often._

Without breaking eye-contact, one of my hands moved to my neck, then slowly made its way down my body.

_I love showing off my body._

_I should cum in front of my son more often._

I paused briefly to play with my huge tits. _My son has needs. If he gets turned on by my body, that’s totally natural._

Cecil’s eyes widened with pleasure.

This was my son’s third blow-job of the day, so I knew he’d last a while.

Hopefully long enough for me to get off as well.

_I should cum in front of my son more often._

_I’m a wet, horny slut._

When my hand made its way between my legs, I surprised even myself with how wet I was.

_I’m a wet, horny slut._

It was so naughty. Blowing my son, naked, touching myself as I did.

I’m a hot bitch.

My eyes fluttered with pleasure as I began to stroke myself, but I never broke eye-contact with Cecil.

_My son has needs._

I’m a sexy woman.

_I should cum in front of my son more often._

It’s only teasing.

_I’m such a cock-tease._

This was so wrong.

_Blow-jobs aren’t sex._

I could feel myself getting close. My son’s excitement reflected my own.

_If he gets turned on by my body, that’s totally natural._

He was going to cum in my mouth. I normally swallow it down, but…—

_I love showing off my body._

…instead, I let his wonderful cock leave my mouth. I leaned backwards so Cecil could see me, see his mother desperately playing with herself.

He reached down and began stroking his cock.

_My son has needs._

_I’m a hot bitch._

_I love showing off my body._

_It’s only teasing._

_It’s only teasing._

I cried out with orgasm as Cecil’s cock began shooting, his cum spraying out and landing on my exposed tits.

_I love cumming in front of my son._

I’m such a cock-tease.


	Chapter 8

The warm glow lasted the rest of the afternoon, and into the night. I was tempted to go into my room and get off again, but something was stopping me.

_I should cum in front of my son more often._

I checked in on Cecil a few times, but he seemed to be hard at work.

I’m such a cock-tease…I offered to blow him a few times (There’s nothing wrong with a bit of dirty talk) but he didn’t even respond.

With no idea what my boy was working on, I eventually left him to it.

_My son has needs._

The next morning, as I was bringing Cecil his breakfast in bed, he surprised me by meeting me on the stairs.

He didn’t say a word—just grabbed a piece of toast from the tray, and made his way down to the basement.

I had grown so accustomed to blowing him at each meal (I’m a hot bitch). I missed it.

I returned to the kitchen, ate the rest of Cecil’s breakfast, and started preparing lunch.

My son hadn’t even glanced at the black corset I was wearing.

I love showing off my body.

* * *

That night, I was relieved when Cecil accepted his first blow-job of the day. As I had the night before, I soon started playing with myself. This time, I swallowed his seed down as I came, his orgasm triggering my own.

_There’s nothing wrong with a bit of dirty-talk._

“God that was good,” I panted. “Baby, your cock feels so good in my mouth. You make Mommy cum so fucking hard.”

_My son has needs._

“Any time you want Mommy to swallow your seed down, just let me know. I want to be such a good little Mommy-slut for you.”

_I’m such a cock-tease._

_I’m such a cock-tease._

_I’m such a cock-tease._

_It’s completely harmless._

With a smile, I decided to take it a step further.

“Whenever your cock is in my mouth,” I said with a wicked smile, “I’m imagining what it would feel like inside me.”

I took my son’s hand and moved it to my wet pussy.

“In _here_.”

Cecil stared at me, agape. I’d shocked myself with my forwardness, and I think I’d shocked him even more.

_It’s only teasing,_ I reminded myself. _I’m a wet, horny slut. It’s only teasing. It’s completely harmless._

“You’d like to fuck Mommy, wouldn’t you?”

Cecil nodded.

_It’s only teasing._

“You’d like to bend Mommy over and take her from behind, wouldn’t you?”

He nodded again.

_There’s nothing wrong with a bit of dirty-talk._

_It’s only teasing._

“God,” I growled. “I’d love for you to take me roughly, take me like the slut I am. I want you inside me. I want you to fuck your own mother, hard. I want to cry out your name while you fuck my wet cunt from behind, pounding into me, making me scream with pleasure…”

Cecil’s glasses were fogging up, and I could see that he was getting hard again.

His hand had just been tentatively resting on my pussy, but he began to move it, his fingers gently parting my wet, hot pussy-lips, spreading them and reaching inside.

I froze as he did. This was going too far. Too far.

_I’m a wet, horny slut._

_It’s only teasing._

_It’s perfectly harmless._

_I am such a cock-tease._

A smile slowly crept over my face as I realized how worked up he was going to be. I let myself relax into it, allowing Cecil’s fingers to explore his mother’s pussy.

_There’s nothing wrong with a bit of dirty-talk._

As my son touched me, I wrapped my arms around him, and moved my mouth to his ear.

“That’s my good boy,” I murmured throatily. “I want to feel your fingers deep inside me. Oh god, Cecil…that’s where you came from. You were born from there, and now you’re coming home. That’s where you’re going to fuck me. That’s where you’re going to stick your beautiful cock, deep inside me until you make me cum, over and over…”

I twitched with pleasure.

I’m such a cock-tease.

“Please, Cecil,” I said, pulling back, biting my lip, and looking at him plaintively. “Please, son…oh god. I want you so bad.”

Cecil’s hand sped up. I opened my mouth to speak, but a wave of arousal suddenly overcame me, and I found myself unable to form a coherent thought.

_I’m a wet, horny slut._

_I’m a wet, horny slut._

_I’m a wet, horny slut._

_I’m a wet, horny slut._

_I’m a wet, horny slut._

_I should cum in front of my son more often._

Before I could collect myself, my orgasm suddenly hit. Cecil’s fingers curled inside me, and I moaned and babbled with arousal as my wet cunt clenched around them.

I came long and loud, collapsing onto the floor and twitching with pleasure.

Cecil watched, smiling, as my orgasm subsided, replaced with the warm glow.

“Do you want to fuck me?” I said with a saucy pout.

Cecil nodded.

“Do you want to fuck Mommy?”

He nodded again.

I burst out laughing.

I’m _such_ a cock-tease.

Cecil looked furious, and I suddenly felt the warm glow started to fade. The house felt like it was getting smaller, like the walls were closing in.

“Cecil,” I said, “honey—I love you, but…we can’t. That would be wrong. Blow-jobs aren’t sex, but that…”

I swallowed. He looked madder than I’d ever seen him.

“Honey, that would be incest. I’m sorry, but we can’t.”

He didn’t react.

“Please,” I said quietly. “Let Mommy blow you?”

With a shake of his head, he walked away, leaving me on the floor, staring after him, feeling empty.


	Chapter 9

For the next couple of days, things were…odd, between Cecil and I.

I was struggling to pinpoint exactly what it was. He still let me blow him, thank goodness—I’m a sexy woman, and my son is a healthy male. He has needs. If he gets turned on by my body, that’s totally natural.

It would have been more than just odd if my son hadn’t let me give him head; it would have been downright worrying.

No, that was all business as usual. I was still a hot bitch—such a cock-tease—and I loved cumming in front of my son. It had gotten to the point where the feeling of his seed hitting the back of my throat would trigger my own orgasm.

I’m a wet, horny slut.

He’d still play with me, too, which was starting to get addictive. He was so good at it. I loved cumming in front of my son.

I spent most of my time around the house naked—naughty, I know, but what can I say? I’m a hot bitch, and I love showing off my body.

I’m such a cock-tease.

Cecil could walk up to me any time, move one hand between my legs and my knees would go weak. It wouldn’t be long before I’d either fall to my knees and swallow his cock as quickly as I could…or find myself trembling with orgasm, cumming as my perverse sexual fantasies spewed from my mouth.

“I want you to fuck me, please, fuck Mommy. Fuck Mommy so hard. Fuck Mommy please Cecil, please, I want to feel you inside me. I want to feel you cum inside me. I want to feel you cuummmm…”

There’s nothing wrong with a bit of dirty talk.

It was while I was kneeling in front of Cecil at breakfast, sucking him off as he ate the bacon and eggs I’d lovingly arranged into the shape of a smiling face— _I’m a good mother_ —when I realized what it was.

His smile.

I hadn’t seen Cecil smile in days.

Not since I’d told him that we couldn’t fuck.

I’d known he was annoyed—I’m _such_ a cock-tease—but maybe it’d had more of an effect than I’d realized?

He didn’t seem _unhappy_ , but seeing my son smile always fills me with such a warm glow.

_I’m a good mother._

He wasn’t smiling. Didn’t that mean, on at least some level, that he wasn’t happy?

_My son has needs._

I was doing all that I could to attend to his needs. I provided him with three handcooked meals a day, I’d drop to my knees if he so much as glanced at me, and I was letting him watch me get off several times a day. I love cumming in front of my son.

_My son has needs._

My brow furrowed as I tried to think of what else I could do for him. I was making sure that he was completely taken care of—I’m a good mother.

_My son has needs._

And yet, he wasn’t smiling. I must have been missing…something.

But what?

_Blow-jobs aren’t sex._

My eyes widened as I realized what it was.

_My son is a healthy male. My son has needs._

_Blow-jobs aren’t sex._

My son needed more than just head. He needed more than just to watch his mother get off in front of him, multiple times a day.

He needed…he needed…

_Blow-jobs aren’t sex._

I was a good mother.

_Blow-jobs aren’t sex._

I was a good mother, and I needed to take care of my son.

_Blow-jobs aren’t sex._

I needed…I needed…

“No,” I gasped, pulling my son’s cock from my mouth. He looked down at me, a worried expression on his red face.

He wasn’t smiling.

“I…I…”

Cecil closed his eyes. I felt torn, like my body was pulling me in two directions at once. On one hand, I wanted to move my mouth back between his legs, to suck my son off.

_Blow-jobs aren’t sex. My son has needs._

_I’m a good mother._

On the other hand, I wanted to…I wanted to…

No. No, I couldn’t.

The room was spinning. The walls felt closer than normal. The lights were on, but the room suddenly felt so dark.

So dark.

I felt like I was losing my mind. What was I doing? I was totally naked where my son could see me, touching myself in front of him, sucking him off, talking to him like he was…like he was a lover.

What was wrong with me??

Cecil’s eyes were open again, so wide behind his thick glasses. I looked at him in horror—as if he could read my scared thoughts, he blinked twice, staring at me intently…

And then he smiled.

The warm glow filled me, moving down my body, calming every nerve it came into contact with, head to toe.

_I love showing off my body. I’m a wet, horny slut. If my son gets turned on by it, that’s totally natural._

_It’s totally harmless._

What was wrong with being naked in front of my son? He loved it, I loved it.

Why had that felt so strange, all of a sudden?

_I’m a sexy woman. I love cumming in front of my son._

_It’s totally harmless._

I mean, I was going to masturbate either way. This way, at least I was sharing it with someone I loved.

_I’m a hot bitch. My son is a healthy male. I’m such a cock-tease. It’s only teasing._

_It’s totally harmless._

Having a cock-tease mother like me…of course Cecil was going to be turned on. Especially with the way I relentlessly teased him.

_My son has needs. Blow-jobs aren’t sex. I’m a good mother._

_It’s totally harmless._

What kind of mother would let her son suffer? All I was doing was offering my son some release—some head, whenever he needed it. There was nothing wrong with that.

_It’s only teasing._

Cecil’s smile faded, but the warm glow remained. I dropped to my knees, and looked up at him invitingly.

“Shall we continue?”

Cecil closed his eyes again, and my warm mouth happily enveloped his cock once more.

* * *

To support my writing and access my work months before it goes online anywhere else, check out [my Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/panwhowrites)!


	Chapter 10

After my little freakout in the kitchen, Cecil was a little pale for the next few days.

And, to my dismay, his smile didn’t come back.

Whenever I blew him, the same thoughts kept running through my head.

_My son has needs._

_Blow-jobs aren’t sex._

_I’m a good mother._

Over and over and over again, like a CD player stuck on repeat.

_Blow-jobs aren’t sex._

_My son has needs._

_I’m a good mother._

At times it felt like a riddle, like the answer would be obvious once I worked it out…but until then, I was totally lost. Helpless.

_I’m a good mother._

_My son has needs._

_Blow-jobs aren’t sex._

That was the part that particularly stuck in my mind.

_Blow-jobs aren’t sex. Blow-jobs aren’t sex. Blow-jobs aren’t sex._

It was frustrating, but I just couldn’t see a solution. After all, he was my son—it wasn’t like I could…

It wasn’t like we could do anything more than what we were doing.

My son had needs. I was a good mother. But the only way I could help him—the only _reason_ I could help him was also what seemed to be the crux of the issue.

Blow-jobs aren’t sex.

It was while I was giving Cecil his morning wake-up blowjob that another thought struck me.

_It’s only teasing._

Sex with my son was wrong—of that, I was sure. I couldn’t have sex with my son. Couldn’t do it. It was completely off the table.

But teasing…

A smile crept over my face.

I was such a cock-tease.

_Such_ a cock-tease.

“You’ve been such a good boy,” I said, pulling Cecil’s cock out of my mouth and allowing a teasing pout to appear on my face. “ _Such_ a good boy. Getting mommy off every day, letting her swallow down your yummy yummy cum.”

I saw the beginning of a smile appear in the corner of Cecil’s mouth, and I knew I was on the right track.

“Such a good, good boy…Mommy’s good boy. With such a good cock for Mommy.”

There’s nothing wrong with a bit of dirty talk.

I pulled my son’s blanket aside. Cecil was wearing a pair of blue cotton pajamas, his dick poking out the front. I was naked, of course.

I love showing off my body.

Moving my face to his, I kissed my son, allowing my tongue to thoroughly explore his mouth. By the time I pulled back, my naked ass was resting against his erection.

“Blow-jobs aren’t sex,” I murmured. “And I know you have needs.”

Reaching down, I wrapped my hand around his cock, and slowly moved it against my wet pussy lips.

“I’m a good mother,” I gasped, my labia parting to allow his cock to enter me. “I’m a good mother, and my son has needs.”

A shudder passed through my body as I felt Cecil’s cock move inside, slowly filling me up. “Oh, god. I’m a good mother. I-I’m a sexy woman. I’m a hot bitch.”

I couldn’t even remember the last time that I’d had sex, but I knew that it hadn’t felt like this. It had _never_ felt like this. It felt like my body was switching on, for the first time—in all the years with Cecil’s father, in all the years of playing with myself…nothing could compare to what it felt like to have my son’s cock deep inside me.

I was dripping wet. I was a wet, horny slut.

I was a cock-tease. I was _such_ a cock-tease. I was such a cock-tease, and all that teasing, all that build-up…it was all paying off.

Feeling my son’s hardness inside me, feeling him enter his mother for the first time—it was like nothing I’d ever experienced.

Thank god it was only teasing.

“Do you like this?” I said breathily, my cunt pulsing with pleasure. “Do you like fucking Mommy?”

_It’s only teasing. It’s only teasing._

“Do you like knowing that you’re inside your wet, horny slut of a mother?”

_It’s only teasing. I’m such a cock-tease._

“Do you like—ungh!—fucking the same hole you came out of?”

_It’s completely harmless. It’s only teasing._

“Your mother is such a slut for your huge cock.”

_There’s nothing wrong with a bit of dirty talk. It’s only teasing._

Cecil didn’t say anything, just closed his eyes. Perspiration was dripping down his head as I raised and lowered myself onto his hard rod.

_I’m a good mother. I’m a good mother. I’m a good mother._

When you’ve given your son as much head as I have, you start to recognize the signs, and before long I could tell that Cecil was getting close.

A part of me wanted to turn off my brain— _I’m a hot bitch_ —but I knew that I couldn’t. I couldn’t let my son cum inside me; that would be crossing a line.

Letting him slip it in? That was just messing around.

It was only teasing.

_I’m a sexy woman. I’m a hot bitch. If he gets turned on by my body, that’s totally natural._

The thoughts hammering my brain were all true, but they were overruled by the thought I’d been having the most lately.

_I’m a good mother._

Just as I knew Cecil was about to cum, I pulled away—my pussy objected, but I knew that I couldn’t let my son cum inside me.

With a groan of frustration, his dick throbbed as he sprayed his seed onto my flushed, naked body.

I was so turned on—I felt like with just a nudge, I would be…—

_I love cumming in front of my son._

My hands were nowhere near my hungry pussy, but all of a sudden I felt myself cumming, shaking with a powerful orgasm as Cecil’s cum slowly slid down my skin.

As my orgasm subsided, I opened my eyes to find Cecil staring at me with a smile. As the warm glow filled me, it felt like my body was smiling back at him.

_I’m a good mother. I’m a good mother. I’m a good mother._

_It’s only teasing._

My son had needs. As his mother, I couldn’t fulfill _all_ of his needs…but, well, that didn’t mean I couldn’t tease him a little.

What can I say? I’m a hot bitch.

* * *

To support my writing and access my work months before it goes online anywhere else, check out [my Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/panwhowrites)!


	Chapter 11

I’m a good mother.

I’m not always sure of much in life, but no matter what else is happening in my life, that’s something I can hold onto with complete confidence.

I’m a good mother.

_I’m a good mother._

“I’m a good mother,” I panted, as Cecil’s cock thrust inside me, filling me up perfectly. “I’m a—oh!—good mother…“

It had become a sort of mantra, something I mentally—and vocally—repeated whenever my son fucked me. I think it was because a part of me (for reasons I couldn’t quite pinpoint) felt like there was something weird about…

Well, about cumming around my son’s cock two or three times a day.

Whenever I tried to follow that thought to its conclusion, I just couldn’t make sense of it. What could possibly be wrong?

After all, it was only teasing.

“I’m a good mother,” I groaned, as another orgasm wracked my body. That was why I was fucking my son. That was why I was letting Cecil pound me, whenever and wherever he wanted.

I’d been doing laundry in the nude (unexpected side-benefit of spending most of my time naked or in racy lingerie: less laundry!) when Cecil had come up behind me. Without saying a word, he’d unbuckled his pants and slid his hard cock between my legs.

_My son has needs._

_He’s a healthy male._

_If he gets turned on by my body, that’s totally natural._

_It’s only teasing._

“Yesss,” I’d moaned instinctively. Nothing felt as good as the feeling of Cecil entering my wetness.

For a second—just the briefest of moments—I’d felt like something was wrong, like we shouldn’t be doing this.

Like I shouldn’t let my son fuck me whenever and wherever he wanted.

And that’s when I’d remembered.

_I’m a good mother._

I’m a good mother, so clearly what we were doing couldn’t be bad. I’m a good mother, and if letting your son fuck you was wrong, I wouldn’t have done it.

No, I was just attending to his needs.

_I’m a good mother._

I could feel the warning signs that Cecil was going to cum, and so I pulled his erection out from between my legs—ignoring the sound of disappointment he made as I did—and dropped to my knees, thrusting my tits forward.

“Cum on Mommy’s chest,” I groaned. “And in my mouth. Please, Cecil, Mommy needs your cum.”

There’s nothing wrong with a bit of dirty talk.

Cecil wasn’t smiling, but his cock throbbed a happy red as I opened my mouth to catch his seed. I moved one hand to my wet pussy, and began to rub my needy clit as my son shot his load onto my ample bosom, before moving his aim higher and shooting a final spurt onto my face, and into my mouth.

My eyes rolled back into my head with pleasure as I felt another orgasm wracking my body.

After all…I’m a good mother, but I’m also a sexy woman. A hot bitch.

A wet, horny slut.

When I regained my focus, Cecil was gone. I cleaned my face with a shirt I was throwing into the washer anyway, sucked my tits clean of his cum, and turned the machine on, proud of my accomplishment: two different loads in less than ten minutes.

* * *

I woke up the next morning to the feeling of Cecil fucking me. My initial reaction was panic—this was my _son_ , and I had been _sleeping_ —but as soon as I locked eyes on Cecil’s huge glasses, I felt much more relaxed.

I sleep in the nude, of course (I love showing off my body) and my bedroom door is always wide open (I should cum in front of my son more often). He must have passed by, been aroused by the sight of my naked body (I’m a hot bitch) and, well…

My son has needs.

If he gets turned on by my body, that’s totally natural.

I moved one hand between my legs, and shuddered with delight as Cecil moved his mouth to my tits, licking and gently nibbling my nipples.

I could feel my own orgasm approaching when a thought suddenly struck me.

_I’m such a tease._

I’m _such_ a tease.

God I’m a tease.

I’m a sexy woman; I’m a wet, horny slut; I’m a hot bitch…

But above all, I’m a tease.

_Such_ a tease.

And so just as I was about to cum, I stopped touching myself.

I let Cecil continue to pound his hardness into me—I’m a good mother, after all—but I didn’t let my hand touch my clit. Just as I’d been on the edge of orgasm, I deliberately pulled back, letting it fade away.

I don’t know if Cecil even noticed—his eyes were closed, and he had a very focused look on his face—but as my son continued to fuck me, I brought myself right to the tipping point twice more, never letting myself go all the way.

_I’m such a tease. I’m such a tease. I’m such a tease._

God, I’m _such_ a tease.

Eventually, as I felt Cecil approach the precipice I refused to let myself reach, I pulled his cock out of my soaking wet pussy, and brought it to my mouth.

Blow-jobs aren’t sex.

I looked up at my son as I swallowed his seed down, but I’d be surprised if he even noticed—his brow was furrowed, as if he was focusing very closely on a difficult puzzle.

_I’m such a tease_ , I told myself proudly. So much of a tease that I wouldn’t even let _myself_ cum.

* * *

To support my writing and access my work months before it goes online anywhere else, check out [my Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/panwhowrites)!


	Chapter 12

I’m such a tease.

I’m such a tease.

God, I’m _such_ a tease.

Normally my son is the sole victim of my teasing. After all, that was all that was happening when I let him fuck me—it’s only teasing.

_I love it when my son fucks me._

But really, I do it because I’m such a tease. Sliding my pussy-lips down around my son’s cock, then riding him until I could feel he was ready to pop. I’m _such_ a tease…I’d then pull out, ignoring his groans of protestation.

I’d still let him cum on my face, of course. Or my tits, or in my mouth…I’m not cruel.

_I’m a good mother._

But I’m such a tease.

I’d tease him so much…walking around the house naked, or wearing lingerie that highlighted my assets. I’d tease him by leaning down and whispering in his ear while he was eating, telling him how much I look forward to feeling his cock inside me again, how much it turned me on to feel my little man fuck his mother so vigorously.

_I love it when my son fucks me._

I’d tease him by wrapping my hand around his cock and stroking it lovingly, feeling it thicken in my hands, then moving my mouth to it, fellating my son until his dick was coated in my saliva.

I’d tease him by getting him so close—right to the edge!—of cumming inside me. I’d tease him with my pussy, clenching around his hardness.

I’d tease him by being so, so wet for him. Just for him. _I love it when my son fucks me._

I’d tease him by telling him that the taboo of it is what turned me on. That knowing my own son wanted to fuck his mother got me more juicy than anything else had in my entire life. _I love it when my son fucks me. I love it when my son fucks me._

_I love it when my son fucks me._

I’d tell him that I just wanted to ride him until I came, and came, and came again…

_I love it when my son fucks me._

But for the past week, I hadn’t let myself.

No matter how turned on I was, I wouldn’t let myself cum. I’d get myself as close as I got Cecil…but unlike with my son, I wouldn’t pull out and get off.

I’d instead bring myself to the edge of orgasm, then back off. Again, and again, and again and again.

God, I’m _such_ a tease.

I’d always had a high sex drive— _I’m a wet, horny slut_ —but let me tell you, self-teasing brought it to the next level.

Not letting myself cum…wow. Normally after sex, I’d be a soggy-but-satisfied mess. I’d still do anything I could to get Cecil off, of course—I love it when my son fucks me, and it’s totally normal if he gets turned on by my body—but it’s not like I was walking around like a cat in heat.

Sex would leave me satisfied. More sex? Sure, I’m always up for that (I’m a hot bitch, and I love it when my son fucks me)…but I didn’t _need_ it, you know?

But after a week of not letting myself cum (especially after the 6-times-a-day routine I’d found myself in before)…

Yeah. I was almost bursting.

“Fuck me,” I’d pant, as soon as Cecil entered a room. “Please…please, fuck Mommy. Mommy needs it. Mommy needs your cock. I love it when my son fucks me. I love it when my son fucks me. Please…”

Sometimes he’d oblige. He’s a good boy, my Cecil. He’d just pull out his cock—if it was hard, I would just bend over whatever nearby surface I could find and guide it between my legs.

If it was soft, I’d use my mouth, my tits…anything I could to get him hard.

And then bend over whatever nearby surface I could find, and guide it between my legs.

God, I love it when my son fucks me. I’m such a tease.

The feeling of Cecil’s cock entering me was like that first bite of a candy bar—so sweet, like it was going to completely satisfy your hunger.

But, like with a candy bar, the feeling didn’t last. I’d get myself right to the edge of orgasm…then pull back. Again and again and again.

_I’m such a tease. I’m such a tease. I’m such a tease. I’m such a tease._

I’d completely lose myself in the moment, chasing the dragon I could never catch. In a way, it was worse than not being fucked at all—I’d be stimulated, brought to the edge…but wouldn’t let myself cross it.

I’m such a tease.

I’m such a tease.

I’m _such_ a tease.

I’d pull Cecil out, he’d cum somewhere on my body, then go off for a lie-down, leaving me…well, still a soggy mess, I suppose.

But definitely not a satisfied one.

So, you might be asking, why not just stop? Why even start the process if I knew it was going to leave me so absolutely unsatisfied?

The answer’s obvious, really.

I’m such a tease.

Cecil wouldn’t always fuck me, of course. I could have quite happily had his dick inside me twenty-four hours a day (I love it when my son fucks me). That’s impossible, of course…but my son is a healthy male, so he got as close as he could.

But sometimes instead of pulling out his cock and giving me almost everything I wanted, he’d just turn, stare at me through those glasses of his…

And smile.

The feeling I got when Cecil smiled at me…it was as close to an orgasm as I allowed myself to get. My mind would clear, and for a moment—just one sweet moment—I’d be able to ignore the needy ache coming from between my legs.

Then he’d go and sit in a dark room for a while, and the feeling would come back, stronger than before.

_I’m such a tease._

This is making it sound like it was taking over my entire life. I won’t pretend I wasn’t spending an inordinate amount of time thinking about it. Thinking about how horny I was, how much I wanted to cum, how delicious it was that I wouldn’t let myself…

I’m such a tease.

But it wasn’t my entire life. I’m a good mother. I was still waking Cecil up with a blowjob, cooking for him, cleaning the house, and spending a lot of time thinking about what I was going to wear that day.

I love showing off my body.

One morning, I was giving my sleepy son some morning head when he grabbed my head—part of me wanted to object to such rough treatment, but my son is a healthy male. He has needs.

If he gets turned on by my body, that’s totally natural.

Besides…I was so sex-deprived, I almost came from the feeling of his hand gripping my hair.

As Cecil roughly positioned me, I trembled in anticipation of what was going to come next. He was going to fuck me.

I love it when my son fucks me.

He slid his cock inside me, making my whole body tremble. I didn’t even need to go near my clit; it had been so long since I’d cum, just the feeling of Cecil’s cock was enough to bring me to the edge.

_I love it when my son fucks me._

Clenching my vaginal muscles and biting my tongue was enough to prevent the orgasm from overtaking me—I’m _such_ a tease—but when Cecil flipped me over and started fucking me from behind, I felt another one coming.

I’m such a tease. I’m such a tease. I’m such a tease.

It subsided, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I felt like a corn kernel in a fire, ready to pop at any moment.

But I couldn’t. I wouldn’t let myself.

It’s only teasing.

Cecil normally takes longer to cum in the morning, so I got myself into a comfortable position—something that still showed off my curves.

I love showing off my body.

I love it when my son fucks me.

So I wasn’t expecting to recognize the subtle signals of my son’s impending orgasm, just a few minutes later. Most of my energy had been focused on not letting myself cum, but I’d been getting my son off several times a day for months. I could probably spot the signs while sleeping.

I’m such a cock-tease. I’m a wet, horny slut. I’m a sexy woman.

I love it when my son fucks me.

“Good boy,” I groaned. “Cum for mommy. Mommy wants to feel you cum…”

I couldn’t let him cum inside me, of course, but there’s nothing wrong with a bit of dirty talk. It’s only teasing.

Cecil was looking at me—he’d put his glasses on as soon as he woke up—and my eyebrows shot up as he smiled. In an instant, it was like my entire body was aglow.

Just as suddenly as my son’s smile began, it disappeared. He closed his eyes, and an intense expression came across his face.

_I should cum in front of my son more often,_ I realized. _I love cumming in front of my son._

_I love it when my son fucks me. I love cumming in front of my son._

_I love cumming in front of my son._

_I love cumming in front of my son._

My entire body began to shake as a week’s worth of pent-up orgasms hit at once. My eyes rolled back in my head, and my every muscle tensed. As I was hit by the mother of all orgasms, the room went white—for a moment, I thought I was going to pass out.

I couldn’t tell if it was one long climax, or a string of smaller ones…maybe there was no difference. All I knew was that the glow Cecil’s smile had filled me with was spreading, filling my fingers and my toes, my tits and my clit. Every part of my body felt like it was orgasming, and my brain was overloading with sensation.

All the while, Cecil had never stopped fucking me.

_I love it when my son fucks me._

_I love cumming in front of my son._

My peak had passed, but the after-effects were still sending ripples of pleasure through my brain. I’m always a soggy mess after really good sex. This was really, really, _really_ good sex. I love it when my son fucks me.

And so every part of me was soggy, and no part of me was fully-functioning when I realized…

Cecil was cumming.

My son was cumming inside me.

_I love it when my son fucks me._

I did, but that was only teasing. This was…

_I love it when my son fucks me._

I loved having Cecil’s cock inside me, but he couldn’t cum inside me. He couldn’t. He…

_I love it when my son fucks me._

No!

_I love it when my son fucks me._

_No!_

I tried to pull back, to pull him out, but all my energy had been exerted by the most powerful orgasm I’d ever felt. My limbs felt like spaghetti, and by the time I managed to wrap my hand around Cecil’s cock and pull him out, it was too late.

My son had cum inside me.

Cecil had filled me with his seed.

This wasn’t teasing. This wasn’t just a blowjob. This was…this was sex.

Cecil had just fucked me. I love it when my son fucks me, but…not like this.

This had gone too far. It wasn’t only teasing.

It was incest. It was _wrong_.

* * *

To support my writing and access my work months before it goes online anywhere else, check out [my Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/panwhowrites)!


	Chapter 13

I was filled with a feeling of sick dread.

My son had just…he’d just cum inside of me.

Cecil had filled me with his seed.

It hadn’t just been teasing. It hadn’t just been a blowjob. I hadn’t just fucked him.

I’d cum around my son’s cock, and been so distracted by the intensity of my orgasm, I hadn’t…I hadn’t noticed when he…

I’d let Cecil cum inside me.

My son had just orgasmed inside his own mother. His semen was inside me.

My own’s son cum was inside me.

That had been _sex_. Real sex, not just teasing.

Incest.

I closed my eyes and tried not to hyperventilate. Normally when I feel this worried, this panicked, I’m able to calm myself down pretty quickly. It’s like my brain knows exactly what’s stressing me, and provides mantras to get me through it—reassuring statements that I’m not doing anything wrong.

But as I felt myself beginning to spin out, I was met with nothing but the silence of my own mind.

I’m a terrible mother.

The thought didn’t spring, unbidden, from some corner of my subconscious. It was a conclusion, reached of my own volition.

I’d just committed incest. I’d let my son cum inside me.

I’m a terrible mother.

“Cecil,” I said, not even trying to hide the panic in my voice. “Cecil?”

My son’s eyes were closed—his face wasn’t scrunched up, like he was thinking particularly hard about whatever puzzles he occupied his mind with. No, he was sleeping, clearly exhausted after what we’d just done.

Oh, fuck.

What had we just done?

I slipped out of the bed, put on some clothes, and made my way into the back yard.

What had we just _done_?

No, more than that. What had we been doing? For weeks now, it was like I’d lost myself in a sexual fog. Spending all my time naked, touching…touching my son.

Letting him touch me.

More than touch. I’d let him fuck me. I’d let my own son fuck me, whenever he wanted.

I shuddered at the thought.

I’d done everything I could to get my son hard. I’d blown him, jerked him off, swallowed his seed more times than I could count.

And then I’d _fucked_ him.

What the hell was wrong with me?

Part of me wanted to blame Cecil, but I knew that wasn’t fair. I was a hot…I was a hot bi—…

I was a very attractive woman.

I was a very attractive woman, and my son was a heal…a healthy….

It wasn’t his fault. I couldn’t blame him for what had happened.

I’d spent the past month and a half doing everything I could to tease him.

I wanted to throw up. I’d deliberately, constantly teased my own son. I’d instilled some kind of…incestuous attraction in him.

And then I’d taken advantage of him for my own pleasure.

No wonder he’d cum inside me. Considering how much time I’d spent wrapped around his dick, it was basically a miracle that it hadn’t happened before.

I don’t know how long I spent, staring into the back yard, trying to process what we’d done, simultaneously hating myself, reliving every moment of the past few months, and trying to work out a path forward.

Where the hell did I go from here?

The sun was high in the sky when I decided that I couldn’t just sit and fret all day. My stomach was churning—I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to eat again—but Cecil might have woken up, and he needed to eat.

My son has…my son has nee…—

We needed to forge a path forward. I needed to do anything I could to return things to normal, if that was even possible.

We needed to work out what normal was, and do everything we could to get there.

And that meant that it had to stop. All of it.

I went and checked in on Cecil; he was still sleeping, a peaceful look on his face.

He slept for the rest of the day, which I was more than grateful for. I needed the space, the time to process what had happened.

How had it all gone so wrong?

By the time he awoke, I was sure of two things:

Firstly, that I wanted things to return to normal. Somehow I’d let everything spin out of control, and I had to make things right. I’m…I’m a good mo—…

I had to make things right.

And secondly, we could never cross that line again. We could never even come close.

I would do everything I could to avoid even crossing the line.

I’d come up with a plan.

“Hey honey,” I said quietly. His rest seemed to have done him a world of good. He didn’t look tired—he even smiled when I entered the room to see if he was okay.

His smile hit me harder than I expected, filling me with a familiar warmth, but I was resolute.

I had a plan, and I was determined to stick to it.

We had to end things. I didn’t even know why I’d started…doing what we’d done…but I knew it had to end. All of it. It was the only way to make sure that we never crossed the line— _any_ line, to get things back to normal.

We couldn’t do any of it ever again. We shouldn’t have done any of it in the first place, but as much as I knew anything, I knew that we had to stop.

“I’m so sorry,” I said simply, and Cecil nodded. “I’m sure you understand.”

He nodded again.

“It has to stop. I can’t…I can’t…”

I paused. It had all been so clear, while Cecil was asleep, but now that it came time to share the plan I’d spent the morning solidifying, I was struggling to articulate it.

I should have made notes.

“Things need to change,” I said, trying to start again. “Like…”

I gestured to my clothes. I was more dressed than I had since before Cecil first got his prescription. Perhaps I’d overcompensated a little—I was wearing a baggy sweater and loose-fitting jeans—but I wanted to make it very clear how things were going to be, going forward.

As I looked at my outfit though, I have to admit—I felt a little ridiculous.

_I love showing off my body._

Part of me recoiled at the thought, slipping into my mind like a foot into a well-worn slipper.

After all, that was how it had all started. Showing off my body to my son. One minute I’d been wearing a push-up bra, and the next minute…

…but I mean, it wasn’t like every mother who showed a little skin ended up fucking their son.

I glanced at my outfit again. It felt so wrong. Unnatural.

I’d gone too far. I’d made too much of a change. It’s like when you start dieting—if you tell yourself that you’re only going to eat a thousand calories a day, you’ll only last a few days before abandoning the whole thing and eating an entire family-sized pizza by yourself.

As long as I made sure things didn’t escalate like they had last time, there was nothing wrong with showing off my body.

It’s only teasing.

“Wait a second,” I said, standing up to remove my jeans and sweater. Underneath I was wearing a tank-top, a black bra, and the only pair of sensible panties I’d been able to find in my closet.

I could see myself in the full-length mirror in the corner, and I had to admit…I was a sexy woman.

Yeah, this was maybe a little more revealing than most mothers were around their sons, but it was totally harmless.

There’s nothing wrong with a teenage boy checking out a sexy woman.

“Now,” I said, after pausing to let Cecil’s eyes run up and down my body. “What was I saying?”

Oh, yeah. Things needed to change.

I didn’t want to stop showing off my body—there was nothing wrong with that.

I’m a hot bitch.

But that was where we had to draw the line. I could walk around in lingerie, maybe even naked. If he gets turned on by my body, that’s totally natural.

And maybe it wouldn’t be the end of the world if he watched me masturbate. I mean, that’s just part of life, right? I wanted to make sure that my son was well-adjusted—a healthy male—and if anything, seeing a woman masturbate would help him with that. Especially in this porn generation…seeing how actual, normal female arousal worked, that would be the healthiest thing for him.

_I should cum in front of my son more often. My son is a healthy male._

_I’m a good mother._

I felt myself starting to get wet just thinking about it. Being such a good role model for my son, showing him how normal women masturbate, how easily even his own mother can get aroused…

_I’m a wet, horny slut._

Part of me wanted to offer to get off right then and there, but I knew if I let myself get distracted, I’d never get to the point. I was distractingly turned on, but it was nothing I couldn’t deal with. And my arousal was much less of a disruption than if I stripped off the rest of my clothes and began touching myself, talking Cecil through every wicked thought running through my head.

_There’s nothing wrong with a bit of dirty talk._

“Things need to change,” I said firmly, and was relieved when Cecil nodded. He’s such a good boy. Such a healthy male.

My son has needs.

“That means no more…—”

_I’m such a cock-tease._

“No more…—”

_Blow-jobs aren’t sex._

“I can’t…—“

_I love it when my son fucks me._

“No,” I gasped. That was the real problem. The blow-jobs had been fine—it’s only teasing, after all, and blow-jobs aren’t sex.

No, the problem had arisen when I’d let my son…inside me.

That was when I’d lost control. Everything up until that point had been fine.

“I can’t fuck you,” I said with a gasp. “That has to stop.”

Cecil stared at me intently, his mouth a thin line of disappointment.

I love it when my son fucks me.

I love it when my son fucks me.

_I love it when my son fucks me._

“You can watch Mommy get off whenever you want,” I said insistently, my head swimming. “I’ll suck your cock any time. But I can’t…we can’t…—“

_I love it when my son fucks me._

The thought was running on a loop, filling my head, drumming itself onto my soul.

_I love it when my son fucks me. I love it when my son fucks me. I love it when my son fucks me._

“I can’t,” I gasped. “Please…”

_I love it when my son fucks me._

It was too far.

_I love it when my son fucks me._

I couldn’t.

_I love it when my son fucks me._

No!

In an effort to distract myself, I tore off the rest of my clothes. I’d made my point—he understood that we couldn’t allow things to escalate like they had last time.

Now I needed a distraction. We both did.

“Do you want to watch Mommy get off?” I asked with a smile, but Cecil ignored me. There was a crease in the center of his forehead as he stared at me.

_I love it when my son fucks me._

_I love it when my son fucks me._

_I love it when my son fucks me._

Laying back on my son’s bed, I looked him in his eyes, staring straight into his huge glasses.

“Mommy is so wet,” I purred. “Mommy has such a wet pussy, and she wants to touch it while you watch.”

_I love it when my son fucks me._

_I love it when my son fucks me._

“Please, Cecil,” I gasped. “Watch Mommy fuck herself. Watch Mommy…”

_I love it when my son fucks me._

As I came in front of my naked son, I could tell that he wanted nothing more than to move his body on top of mine and fuck me, as he had so many times before.

But he couldn’t. We couldn’t. I…—

_I love it when my son fucks me._

When I was done, I offered him a blow-job, but he didn’t say a word. He just kept staring at me, that determined stare that he’s had ever since he was a babe.

_I love it when my son fucks me._

_I love it when my son fucks me._

_I love it when my son fucks me._

_I love it when my son fucks me._

I fished his cock out anyway, and sucked him off as he stared at me, a singular thought running through my head.

_I love it when my son fucks me._

The next few days were a blur. Cecil didn’t leave his room, and neither of us got dressed again. He was still awake when I went to sleep each night, and he got up before me each morning. He ate the meals I brought him, allowed me to suck his cock, but didn’t otherwise react. I offered to let him touch me, to taste me, I offered him anything he wanted, anything except that…

But he always refused.

_I love it when my son fucks me._

But I couldn’t. We couldn’t. I just…—

_I love it when my son fucks me._

The thought was constantly on my mind. All day, no matter what I was doing, no matter what I was thinking, the same eight words ran through my head, again and again and again and again.

_I love it when my son fucks me. I love it when my son fucks me. I love it when my son fucks me._

I love it when my son fucks me.

But we’d crossed a line. We’d gone too far. We’d…—

_I love it when my son fucks me._

It wasn’t long before the lack of sleep started to have a toll on my son. He looked…not sickly, exactly, but certainly fatigued. He’d developed bags under his eyes, and he was starting to sway, even as he sat on the bed.

I begged him to take a nap, to lay down on mommy’s bosom and rest, but he wouldn’t. He didn’t say a word. He just stared at me blearily, his glasses emphasizing how bloodshot his eyes were, the crease in his forehead deepening by the day.

“Please, Cecil…—”

_I love it when my son fucks me._

“Can you just…—“

_I love it when my son fucks me._

“I’ll do anything you…—“

_I love it when my son fucks me._

“Anything but that,” I said softly, not sure why I was replying to the voice in my head. To my own insistent thoughts. Well, thought. Singular.

_I love it when my son fucks me._

Another two days passed, and suddenly it stopped. The sentence had almost become background noise, like when you live beside a busy highway, or your neighbors start doing construction.

I had stopped noticing the thought, but I noticed its absence.

“I love it when my son fucks me,” I said softly.

I checked in on Cecil. I love it when my son fucks me. To my great relief, he was finally resting, his eyes closed in gentle slumber.

I love it when my son fucks me, I thought to myself, staring at him with a smile.

I was standing in the kitchen when he awoke, I love it when my son fucks me. Don’t ask me how I knew—I was halfway across the house. I love it when my son fucks me.

But as soon as Cecil (I love it when my son fucks me) returned to consciousness, I could tell.

I knew. I love it when my son fucks me.

I’d been preparing lunch, reading ingredients, reminding myself I love it when my son fucks me, when a thought suddenly hit me.

_It’s only teasing._

I glanced back at the recipe, confused. I love it when my son fucks me.

_It’s only teasing._

Narrowing my eyes, I tried to put the thoughts together.

_I love it when my son fucks me. It’s only teasing._

My eyes widened with epiphany, then narrowed in confusion. That didn’t make sense.

_I love it when my son fucks me. It’s only teasing._

But how could it only be teasing when…—

_I love it when my son fucks me. It’s only teasing._

No, but…—

_I love it when my son fucks me. It’s only teasing._

I blinked twice, and took a deep breath. The thought was utter nonsense…but at the same time, completely true.

_I love it when my son fucks me. It’s only teasing._

A groan left my mouth. I wanted to…I wanted to…

_I love it when my son fucks me. It’s harmless._

I needed it.

_I love it when my son fucks me. It’s only teasing._

No. But…

_I love it when my son fucks me. I’m a wet, horny slut._

Yes.

_I love it when my son fucks me. I’m a hot bitch._

Taking off my apron, I started moving towards the bedroom where I knew Cecil was waiting for me.

_I love it when my son fucks me. I’m a sexy woman._

I couldn’t. I shouldn’t…

_I love it when my son fucks me. My son is a healthy male._

I had to.

_I love it when my son fucks me. My son has needs._

I _had_ to.

_I love it when my son fucks me. It’s only teasing._

I love it when my son fucks me.

When Cecil saw the look of lust on my face—I love it when my son fucks me—he tilted his head to the side patiently…more of a reaction than I’d seen from him in days.

_I love it when my son fucks me. I’m a good mother._

I stepped into the room, as if my legs were on autopilot. I love it when my son fucks me.

_I love it when my son fucks me. I’m such a tease._

When I reached the bed, I dropped to my knees.

_I love it when my son fucks me. It’s only teasing._

I could just suck his cock again, I told myself. I could just make Cecil come with my mouth, as I’d done so many times in the past few days.

_I love it when my son fucks me. I’m a sexy woman._

Or I could let him watch me cum. I could scream his name, tell him what a dirty slut his mother is. How much she wants him.

_I love it when my son fucks me. My son has needs._

I could use my feet, or my hands. Anything. Anything but…—

_I love it when my son fucks me. I’m a wet, horny slut._

Cecil leaned back as I straddled him.

_I love it when my son fucks me. I’m a hot bitch._

He let out a small moan as my pussy lips parted, allowing his hardness to penetrate my soaking wet pussy.

_If he gets turned on by my body, that’s totally natural. It’s harmless._

We simultaneously released long, ragged breaths as I allowed the weight of my body to lower me, until my son’s entire cock was inside me.

_I love it when my son fucks me. It’s only teasing._

“Cecil…” I groaned, and was met with a smile, filling me with warmth. The warmth I’d been unknowingly craving for days. For months.

_It’s only teasing. It’s only teasing. It’s only teasing._

A few minutes later, I smiled as my son came, filling my cunt with his seed.

I love it when my son fucks me.

After all…it’s only teasing.

### THE END

* * *

To support my writing and access my work months before it goes online anywhere else, check out [my Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/panwhowrites)!


End file.
