Read Chapter 1 for the full effect. Thanks to the many comments and advice and encouragements about Chapter One. I hope you like where this story is going. All characters are 18 or over in this story and all stories I write. This is pure fiction.
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Usually when I slept, I did not dream, but last night was quite the opposite. I dreamt and dreamt – different images and scenes, and all of them so vividly representing feelings and desires I had never fathomed I would be experiencing. There were images flashing through my sleepy mind of Andy’s cock – my son’s cock! – it was incredible and unnerving and often through the night an image or scene would awaken me, and I would realize my nipples were hard and my pussy was wet and warm and spasming.
There was a scene of Andy sitting in a chair and me standing in front of him totally naked staring at his erection. He stroked himself while I posed for him, touched my breasts, showed him my backside. I even bent over so he could get a better look. Maybe that was what woke me. I was watching in my dream what I would never have imagined doing in real life, though at the moment I was imagining just that – doing that for Andy, letting him see may ass and my…my opening between my cheeks. I shook off the urge to touch myself and returned to dreamland, enjoying my time with Andy, admiring his beautiful penis, letting him see his mother naked, until I was startled awake the next time because of my lewdness or incestual lust.
Interestingly enough, none of my dreams were about us touching each other, much less having sexual relations. We were enjoying our respective exhibitionism and the tease it afforded us. It was as if my dreams were telling me not to rush into this, but rather enjoy the process and how erotic it is to take one’s time to reach nirvana. I had no doubts now that nirvana, for me, was my son’s cock in his mother’s pussy.
Another interesting thing was that in all my dreams, I did not have a bush. I was completely bald and could see my labia and the opening. I guess a sign of things to come! It was also curious to find out if my pussy area really looked like that. I had no clue what my bald pussy would look like. I can’t ever recall looking at it.
These were among the things I was thinking about over a cup of coffee at the kitchen table. Gene was already gone, and Andy, thankfully, was still sleeping. I dreaded seeing him and yet I wanted to see him badly. And I mean, badly. I wanted to see his cock again. I wanted to tell him I wanted to be bald down there for him. I wanted to tell him how much I wanted him to see my naked body and my desire for him.
What I dreaded was talking about it. The last thing I had said to him was to forget any of this happened. And that was certainly not how I felt now. I had to tell him last night was okay, was better than okay, but did we need to talk about the obvious – the incest? Did we need to talk about where all of this would end up? What if Gene found out or someone else? My head was spinning with desire and anxiety. I was a mess.
When I wasn’t fretting about seeing Andy, I was thinking about getting my hair done, getting rid of my bush and how one actually does that. I wondered if Andy would know. I needed different clothes, things that a woman with a good body would wear, that my son would like, but my attire had to avoid suspicions from Gene, or worse, criticisms. He was always correcting me, directing me, telling me what a woman should be and not be. I was weary of him.
Gene. I started thinking about him. I loved him, but I didn’t really like him all that much. I couldn’t really say I was IN love with him. He was a good provider and a decent man in many respects, but he was boring and stuck in his ways and had this sense of entitlement that men get, especially strict Christian men. That sounds prejudicial, but it is my experience, for what it’s worth.
Last night my son’s cock aroused me, or as Andy would say, turned me on. Gene did not arouse me. We had sex once a month, if that, and it was always the same. He got on top, put it inside me, humped me and orgasmed. That was it. Five minutes, if that, of being the good wife, but never the satisfied woman. Gene’s release into me meant nothing to either of us, but me most of all, I think, because he at least felt pleasure; I felt none.
I wanted Andy to ejaculate inside of me. I wanted to grab the sheets in my fists and rock into him. I knew Andy would never be a five-minute bore. I felt awful about these feelings about Gene, but not guilty. I still felt enormous guilt about Andy even though I knew one day – who knows when – I would take him inside of me. I knew that once we did that, we would be doing so much more.
I was wearing a mid-calf tee-shirt wtih tails, nothing else. My long hair was wild, perhaps even a bit unkempt, and my nipples were pressing out of the cotton top. There was moisture between my legs, and I wanted to touch it. My hand was inches away from my pussy when Andy walked into the kitchen.
“Morning, silivri escort mom.” He opened the refrigerator and grabbed some juice.
I froze. I know it sounds stupid, but I didn’t know what to do with my hand. I knew I should place it on the table, but I still wanted to touch myself, right there under the table with Andy in the room. Andy was wearing the same shorts as last night and a football jersey. I liked his legs and butt and it crossed my mind that his cock might be hard. He wasn’t paying me any mind, just drinking his juice standing by the sink. He looked at me and smiled.
That’s when I slid my fingers up to feel my wetness. I was wetter than I had imagined and two fingers actually dipped inside. “Good morning.’ My voice cracked. I withdrew my fingers but kept them under the table. I didn’t want him to see how wet they were. Still, I had this incredible desire to taste them. I wanted to taste my pussy.
So, I did. I lifted my hand to my mouth and sucked one finger, then the other. I didn’t look at Andy when I did that. I didn’t want to be so overtly obvious, but I knew he saw me. The taste was sweet and sucking on my fingers made me even wetter. That’s when it hit me. I was tasting my pussy in front of my son. And there he was staring at me, his eyes wide, his mouth open. I looked down; I could see the outline of his swollen cock in his shorts.
“Dad is gone,’ I whispered.
Andy leaned back against the kitchen counter. I shifted my chair, so I was facing him. It was close quarters and once again my face was a foot away from Andy’s crotch. His penis was hanging hard and long down the left side of his shorts, its tip but an inch or two away from peeking out from his shorts.
I leaned forward to get even closer, not really thinking straight.
“Mom?”
I looked at him. My poor son didn’t know what was going on or what to do, and to be honest, neither did I. All I knew is I was mesmerized by his big hard penis. Andy slowly extended his right hand toward me. I watched it approach my face, my eyes angled up to his, and when he finally touched my cheek, I took his hand, turned my head, and slowly kissed each finger tip. When Andy emitted a feint moan, I smiled and wrapped my lips around this thumb and sucked in into my mouth.
Andy had to bend a bit to touch my cheek and when he did, his cock slipped out of the bottom of his shorts. He knew it. He knew I was sucking his thumb as his cock’s surrogate.
“Andy,” I whispered.
“Mom?”
Earlier, all of my thoughts had been about me, what I was experiencing, the lust, the guilt, the thrill of discovery, and the anxiety of wanting my son’s love. I hadn’t really thought about what Andy was going through. Sure, he had been the instigator last night, but I knew my boy. He was a thoughtful young man, a good person, and he had to be conflicted too, showing his mother his penis like he did last night.
I gave his hand one more kiss and let it go. He straightened up as I leaned back in my chair. “Are you hungry?”
“What?”
I quickly rephrased. “Do you want some breakfast?”
“Oh…uh…yes please.”
Sometimes people need a mundane activity to intervene when something serious and life-changing is happening. I wanted Andy’s cock in my mouth and so did he I was sure, but 24 hours ago we were traditional mother and son and now we wanted a different kind of relationship and yet we weren’t really sure what that meant. It had to mean more than sex, at least that is what I assumed. We couldn’t just strip naked and make love in the kitchen without considering the ramifications of such a radical change, could we?
I stood up and said, “Sit. Let me scramble some eggs.”
Andy brushed up against me as I moved toward the refrigerator and he took the chair. While I cracked eggs into a mixing bowl, I asked him questions. “What are you up to today?” “Did you sleep well?” “Do you want some bacon or sausages?”
Andy’s responses did not instill more conversation. “Not much…slept okay…sausage.”
I could feel his eyes on me, on my ass. I remembered how I bent over in my dream to show him.
Minutes later we were sitting across from each other, eating eggs and sausages. We ate in silence, and we both were nearly done when I realized if we didn’t talk now, we both would get up, wash the dishes, and then go on with our day, separately.
“Andy, about last night…”
He put down his fork.
“I mean, about what I said, you know, about what happened last night never happening.”
“I understand, mom.”
“No, I am not sure you do. What happened did happen. We can’t pretend it didn’t.”
“Yeh, I guess.”
“I think last night was a beginning of something, don’t you?”
Andy nodded. “Yes.”
“I agree, but now we have to figure out what we want to do about that, right?” My voice quivered and my legs were shaking.
“Yeh, I guess so.”
I didn’t know what to say next. Do I tell şirinevler escort him I want to see his cock again, wanted to touch it? Should I explore with him what it will mean to become intimate, to become lovers? I wanted him to know I was interested but I didn’t want to scare him off with super serious talk or some sort of contrived analysis of incest. Andy was just looking at me. It was clear he wanted me to lead this discussion.
What happened next surprised both of us. I stood up, raised my night shirt and said, “What should I do about my hair?”
Andy’s mouth opened but nothing came out. His eyes were fixed on my pussy, and I imagine he was processing that. He was looking at his mother’s hairy pussy.
I couldn’t go back now. “Do you think I should get rid of it?”
His response was barely audible. “I do,” he said.
“How?”
“There’s places that do that. It’s called Brazilian waxing.”
I covered up and sat down. “Oh. Does it hurt?”
“Honestly, I have no clue.”
Suddenly we were having a conversation. It was a rather odd one, but at least we weren’t trying anymore to navigate through the awkward silence anymore.
“I am sure we could find out on the Internet.”
“Yes, of course.”
Andy stood up and lowered his shorts. “Do you think I should get rid of my hair, too?”
The thought had never crossed my mind. His penis was beautiful just the way it was, but when I pictured him hairless down there, I liked the imagery. I imagined how good it would feel to kiss him without getting hair in my mouth. I blushed when I realized I wanted to feel his mouth on my bare pussy.
I tried to lighten things up. “Well, what’s good for the goose is good for the gander.”
Andy laughed, pulled up his shorts and sat back down. “I will if you will, mom.”
“I want to. Yes, I will.”
We went upstairs and began our research. We learned that we would have to trim our hair to a quarter inch or so. Otherwise the waxing would hurt a lot. Getting waxed was going to be somewhat uncomfortable anyway, maybe a little painful, but all the sites we looked at were consistent about trimming first. I had a clippers somewhere. I had used them years ago to trim Andy’s hair back when money was tight.
Andy must have read my mind. “Do you still have those clippers?”
“I think so.”
This was another new experience, sitting side by side at his computer, talking about both of us getting rid of all our pubic hair.
“I am not sure I could do this by myself.”
“Me either,” Andy replied.
“Should we go today?”
“If you want to, sure.”
“Okay, why don’t you make us an appointment and I will go look for the clipper.”
“You want to go together?”
“No one has to know we are mother and son, Andy.”
“I guess.”
It took me awhile to locate the clippers. Neither of us had broached the subject about trimming each other’s hair, but we knew that was the plan. I felt devious, a new feeling for me. Trimming each other meant we would be touching each other down there.
On my way to Andy’s room, I stopped in my bedroom. I pulled off the blankets and top sheet and then spread a fresh clean sheet over the bed. My bed was king size; Andy’s was a double. It made more sense to do this in my room. Once I had everything ready, I yelled for Andy and moments later he entered, a sheepish look on his face.
“Did you make our appointments?”
“Yeh. Yours is at two and mine is right after.”
We had three hours, plenty of time to trim each other. “Do you want to trim me first?”
“Sure, okay.”
I could have just pulled my night shirt up, but I had some courage now. I raised the shirt over my head and stood by the side of the bed for a moment so he could get a good look. Then I crawled onto the bed and lay on my back and opened my legs.
Andy froze. He was literally gawking. The clippers was laying near my right knee. He picked it up, knelt on the bed between my legs and switched it on. He froze again.
“It’s okay,” I whispered. I closed my eyes. “Go ahead.”
Andy put his left hand on my thigh and I nearly jumped when I felt the clippers buzz against my mound. Over the course of the next ten minutes or so, he touched and stretched my skin so he could get at all the hair. He did the outer hair first but eventually he had to manoeuvre my labia left or right to do a thorough job. At one point the palm of his hand was covering my opening, his finger tips resting against my clitoris. All of the touching and the vibrations and the trimming had made me very wet. I wondered what Andy thought of that, of everything he was doing to his mother.
After he turned the clippers off, he brushed away the loose hair from my pussy. He even spread my labia apart to ensure the hair there was taken care of. I hadn’t considered this clean-up phase. “Andy, go get a warm cloth.”
I just laid there while he did that, my legs wide open, my pussy şişli escort wet. During the trimming, my hands had gravitated to my breasts, as if on their own volition. I was massaging them and rubbing my index fingers on my engorged, throbbing nipples. Was I doing that while Andy was trimming me? I had no idea. But when he returned with the warm wet rag and began wiping off the loose hair all over my pussy, I didn’t stop. If anything, I caressed my breasts even more. I was in heaven. I was enjoying all of the sensations and in that moment, I wanted Andy to see me this way, aroused and wanton.
When I was done, I reached down and felt around. “Feels so different,” I said. “Do you…do you like it?”
“I do,” Andy said. “You’re…” He paused. “Beautiful,” he added.
Then without a word, we switched places. Andy had followed my lead and had stripped naked and his cock was fully erect, standing straight up. I took it in my hand and gasped. It was so hard and smooth. I had to pull it in every which direction to trim his hair and I discovered I had to lift and move and stretch his testicles in order to trim them, too. Like I had done, Andy closed his eyes. Eventually the head of his cock was wet with a clear substance, which I later learned was called, precum. I couldn’t help myself. I ran my finger tips over his head and spread the precum all over it, Andy moaned and lifted his head to look at what I was doing.
I was actually stroking his penis head between my index and middle fingers. I wasn’t really thinking, but when Andy warned me that I should stop or he would make a mess, I pulled my hand away and hurried off to the bathroom for another warm, wet cloth. I was nervous now about what might happen if I cleaned him off; so, I handed him the cloth and stood there and watched him clean up the excess hair.
Both of us were ready now for our appointments. We still had nearly two hours to wait. We were both so aroused now, but I figured we had to control ourselves for the time-being. Andy sensed this, too, apparently. “Mom,” he whispered. “I need to run an errand but will be back in an hour or so to drive us to the spa.”
I thought to ask him where he was going, but I didn’t. We both needed a break. “Sound good,” I replied. I was relieved. All the sexual tension was overwhelming and so new. I watched Andy leave the room, his shorts and jersey in hand and then I changed into a house dress. I stayed put until I heard him leave and then without thinking I walked to his room, sat down at his computer and searched for “mother and son sex videos.”
I was surprised at how many choices there were. I was interested in seeing women my age with young men. I watched a video of a mother slowly teasing and stroking her son’s cock. Her teasing was mesmerizing. It was like she was actually worshipping her son’s cock. Sometimes she lowered her head and licked or kissed the head. When his breathing escalated, she lowered her mouth over this cock and began sucking him. Up and down, her hand on his balls. I couldn’t believe how much of him she could take. She went so far down that her mouth was an inch away from his balls.
Finally, the young man moaned that he was coming. The woman began sucking harder and faster and then she stopped as he arched his back and just took his release. I watched sperm drip from the corners of her mouth as she labored to swallow as much as she could. His cock spasmed four or five times and at one point she gagged from the thrusting and all the come he was shooting into her mouth. When he was done, she slowly released him and smiled. There were a few drops of cum on her chin and also on his belly and balls.
I was already shocked that she had swallowed her son’s come. Never in my life with Gene had I even thought about doing that. But what she did next took the cake. She lowered her face and began sucking up the cum from his body. She made slurping sounds and after each slurp she would say, “Yum.” Once he was totally clean, she took her fingers and pushed the come on her face into her mouth.
Her son was sitting up now. They looked at each other like animals. Then I heard what I so wanted to hear Andy say. “That was so good, mother.”
And then the video ended. I watched several more videos and each time they ended right after the son orgasmed and while I was transfixed by it all, I did wonder what would happen with us, after Andy orgasmed. What would we say to each other? What we would we do? Would we cuddle or would we just get up and get on with our day? All I knew is that I didn’t want our life to be episodes that ended like in the videos.
I shut down the browser and showered and got dressed. The sexiest outfit I could find were a pair of yoga pants I had bought a year ago when I was on a fitness fixation. Out of habit I put on my panties but when I looked in the mirror, I saw how ugly they were, how they made me look like a grandmother. So, I removed them and then put on the yoga pants. The pants came with a sports bra, but I figured I couldn’t go out with my belly exposed. I put on a white cotton button down shirt and spent way too long trying to decide how many buttons I would leave unfastened. Four was too much; two was not enough. Three seemed just right. My cleavage showed but not so much to draw unwanted reactions, but I wanted Andy to appreciate what I had for him.