25th Class Reunion

When I entered the basement on the next Saturday morning, it marked the first month of our workouts together. After successfully avoiding them for a month, Tyler had both the scale and tape out, and I reluctantly subjected myself to each. I had actually grown accustomed to feeling Tyler's hands on my body as I tried to master the various stretches and exercises, so the tape seemed not nearly as invasive as it had the first time.

I was glad that I had proven Don wrong by keeping up the exercise routine, but even happier with the results. I had lost more pounds and inches than I had expected, which simply thrilled me. As my son had predicted, after reviewing the numbers, I was more fired up to work out than ever before.

"See Mom, I told you we'd made progress," Tyler beamed, and I could not contain my own smile.

I felt tremendously grateful that he had given so much of his time to assist me, so I replied honestly, "It's all because of you, sweetie." I moved towards him and we fell into a tight embrace. We held one another for far longer than usual, before we awkwardly broke apart to set about our work.

I didn't own any real workout clothes, so on lunch break the next Monday I stepped into an athletic apparel shop and purchased a few items. After browsing the aisles for a while, I picked up two new pairs of shorts and a couple lightweight tops. They were actually quite basic, but compared to the rags I owned, they were just a tad sexy.

It probably sounds bad, but a small part of me wanted to dress that way for Tyler, to show how our hard work had paid off. Although he tried to be subtle, over the subsequent days I caught him looking me over more than once, and it didn't bother me one bit. In fact, it was somewhat thrilling.

I can honestly say the workouts became the highlight of my day. Tyler and I chatted while we exercised, and I was grateful to reconnect with my son in such a special way. After our sessions, we often found excuses to stay together and talk before heading back to the reality that was life upstairs. He became my confidant, and while I didn't share much of the issues I had with Don, I'm sure he guessed more than he let on.

On clear evenings, we often took a long stroll around the neighborhood to cool down after our intense workouts. One night while we were trekking across a nearby field, to my surprise, Tyler grasped my palm inside of his own. As momentarily stunned as I was, I quickly grew comfortable with our shared intimacy. Feelings of true love were bubbling up inside me I'm not sure I had ever experienced before.

We silently walked hand in hand for a while until we reached the row of houses once more. Tyler seemed reluctant to release my hand, but we broke apart and began walking homeward. After that first evening holding hands, we did it more times than not, regardless of where we were, and each time I felt giddy.

In my alone time, I began feeling very guilty. As much as I loved our special time together, I was sure I was keeping Tyler away from the active summer life of a normal college student. A handsome twenty one year old male should be out meeting willing young ladies, not spending so much time with his mom. I felt the need to re-establish our normal mother-son dynamic, as much as it hurt.

Over the next few days, I purposely kept a bit of distance between Tyler and myself when we were alone. Part of me wanted to sit down with him and explain myself, but how could I? I mean, what would I say, "Sorry, sweetie, but I think I'm falling in love with you?" That was something he just didn't need to know and I would have to carry with me to my grave.

For his part, Tyler clearly knew something was amiss, but thankfully didn't push me or ask too many questions. After less than a week, I missed our newfound intimate moments so much; I couldn't push him away any longer. He had become like a drug to me and I just had to have more. On our next walk I gladly held my son's hand and didn't care who saw us.

One evening Tyler came home from work with a decided limp, and I asked him what was wrong.

"Just a slight muscle pull in my left thigh, I think," he responded casually, pretending everything was just fine.

Don of course was his usual compassionate self and said, "Suck it up, you big baby."

I was irate with my husband, but somehow managed to keep my frustrations inside without lashing out. After years of marriage, I guess I probably expected a comment of that nature from him. My mind quickly went back to my son. Given all the attention Tyler had lavished upon me, I knew I wanted to return the favor. Just as soon as I had finished cleaning up after dinner, I went to the bathroom and poured a hot bubble bath, then demanded he take a hot soak.

I let him soak for a few minutes, and then stood nervously at the bathroom door and knocked softly. "May I come in?"

"Sure Mom," he responded, and I slowly entered the steamy little room.

Tyler was completely covered in suds, so I couldn't see anything below his chest. "Don't worry about your father," I stated softly as I sat down on the cold porcelain tub beside him. "He has no idea how hard you work."

I learned Tyler was far more in tune to the family dynamic than I had thought, when he responded, "He doesn't know what hard work is, Mom." With that, he moved his hand from the side of the tub and placed it upon my knee just below the hem of my skirt. After a brief pause, he gently stroked my soft skin without uttering another word while he stared directly into my eyes.

My mind raced in tune with my pounding pulse. As much as I loved being there with him and sharing our little stolen moments, I had to get away. I turned to look at him just before I left the bathroom and felt a sudden weakness. In spite of myself, I softly whispered, "I'll massage your thigh later tonight, umm, if you'd like." I felt like a silly schoolgirl, throwing myself out there for a boy with no safety net to catch me. It was way beyond anything I'd ever even imagined with Billy Hanlon.

As I stood fidgeting at the door, Tyler thankfully replied, "I'd really like that."

Air suddenly returned to my chest as I closed the door and made my way towards the stairs. Don was on the computer in the study once more, and the last thing I wanted was to be upstairs near him. It felt much safer to be a floor away from him, afraid he might be able to see how naughty I was feeling inside.

I found myself pacing in the kitchen, anxiously awaiting Tyler's arrival. After what seemed like ages, I heard the pounding of feet upon the hardwood floors as someone approached from above. With baited breath, I looked towards the door, and was relieved when my son sauntered around the corner.

We both looked upon one another with loving eyes, before I was forced to glace away when I felt warmth in my cheeks. Desperate to break the awkward silence, I said softly, "Why don't you go lay on the couch."

With a smile he turned and hobbled his way towards the living room. I wanted to remain detached, but how could I seeing my son limping the way he was? I rushed to his side and fluffed a pillow for him, before he settled face-down on the sofa.

I nestled my bottom onto a tiny piece of open space next to his abdomen, and then moved my hands to his shoulders to commence my massage. I took my time and lavished attention on his back, and at times his legs too. His skin was warm and soft and I enjoyed pampering him after everything he had done for me. It was wonderful to touch a firm male body after being with my portly spouse for so long.

After a good half hour rubbing his back, I leaned over and whispered in his ear, "Roll over."

"No, I'm fine now, Mom. Just let me rest a while."

I knew his thigh was bothering him, and really wanted to make it better, so I reiterated, "It's okay, just roll over, honey." Tyler didn't move for a moment, so I gave him a playful slap on the butt and said a bit louder, "Come on, roll over."

After a pause, Tyler slowly moved onto his back, and instantly I knew why he had been so hesitant. A prominent bulge tented my son's tight athletic shorts, which almost took my breath away. His face glowed red with embarrassment, but I wanted to somehow convey I understood it was beyond his control. I don't think I'd ever felt more compassion for anyone in my life, and I tried to look directly into his eyes without overtly acknowledging the problem below. I gave him my best knowing motherly smile, and then said softly, "It's okay sweetie, just close your eyes and relax."

Although I tried to remain calm on the outside, my insides were doing cartwheels. I almost found it hard to breathe as I moved my hands to Tyler's thighs and slowly began running them up and down. I honestly tried to look away, but my eyes were drawn to his groin like a magnet, soaking in his obvious excitement. It had been ages since I'd seen Don erect, but this was far more taboo. My son's cock was less than two feet from my face, and my mouth began to water as I momentarily imagined pulling down his shorts, then leaning over to take it between my lips.

Tyler grunted occasionally as I applied a bit of extra pressure, so I tried to be as gentle but thorough as possible. At times my fingertips ran under the seam of his shorts, only inches from his balls and semi-erect penis. A tingle ran down my spine as I realized I was doing it intentionally, experiencing an illicit thrill at my not so subtle actions.

"How does that feel, sweetie?" I cooed as I gently caressed his skin.

"Awesome," he whimpered, which made me smile widely.

My eyes may have been riveted to the bulge in Tyler's shorts as I stroked his thigh, but my lewd fantasy world was shaken when I heard the pitter patter of feet on the hardwood floors above. Ty must have heard it too, because he rapidly sat up and pulled a pillow onto his crotch. I quickly moved to the other end of the sofa and took a seat as well, trying to appear as natural as possible. Thankfully, when Don arrived at the bottom of the steps, he turned and went into the kitchen without giving us a moment's notice.

Tyler and I looked upon each other with obvious relief on our faces. It seemed to me like we had dodged a major bullet, and my son must have had the same thought. As strange as it may sound, after only a moment, we both broke out into grins, and then fought to repress giggles. It really did feel like it was the two of us against my husband.

Don came into the room a minute later and asked, "What's going on? I thought you were going to watch a movie."

I was a still a bit flustered, but thankfully Tyler took control and answered, "The movie sucked, so we turned it off a few minutes ago. We were just about to head up to bed." I normally do not like lies, but under the circumstances his fib seemed innocent enough.

Don just shook his head before he walked towards the stairs, while complete relief washed over me. I looked at Tyler and wanted to say so many things, but nothing would come out of my mouth. He must have felt the same as he silently rose from his seat and held his hands out to me. I placed my palms in his and let him pull me into a tight embrace.

After everything we shared the previous weeks, it was clear Tyler and I had more than just a normal mother-son relationship. If I was being completely honest with myself, I think it was at that evening when I first thought of him as my soul mate.

When we broke away, Tyler looked down upon me and slowly leaned forward, bringing his lips to mine. I would not call it a passionate kiss, but it lingered longer than the usual pecks we had shared so many times before. He then stared deeply into my eyes, and said, "I love you, Mom."

I could feel my cheeks burning as I responded, "I love you too."

My head was swimming as I climbed the stairs ahead of him, wondering if he was checking out my bottom in my cute PJs. I have to admit, I did put a bit of extra wiggle with every step, hoping to draw his eyes to my assets. I felt a bit guilty as we passed the door to my husband's study, yet he paid us no attention as usual.

My body was simply on fire as I climbed under the covers. My fingers immediately went between my legs and I began stroking my loins. I hoped to rub myself off before my husband came in from his office, but only a minute or so later he entered the room and made ready for bed.

When Don slipped in beside me, I could feel the warmth between us and wondered if he could too. We had not been intimate in ages, but my body had been in such a heightened sensual state, I was ready for attention. After a moment of indecision regarding what I should do, I lovingly eased myself up against his side. In all the years of our marriage, I had rarely been the one to initiate sex, so this was a big deal to me. I gently ran my hand up and down Don's belly a few times, and then lowered it to his groin.

I assumed that after being without affection for as long as he had, my husband would have responded enthusiastically. Instead, he pushed my hand away and barked, "Jesus Kathy, go to bed."

Until that moment I had never before considered it, but suddenly I wondered if Don might be cheating on me. Sure, I was no runway model, but I certainly looked better than I had in years. Yet there he was, still rejecting me.

I was hurt by Don's seeming indifference and possible infidelity, but grew irate later as I lay there wide awake as he snored contentedly beside me. The arousal I felt earlier had dissipated, but out of spite, I suddenly wanted to get myself off right there alongside him.

My hand moved under my waistband once again and began to softly stroke my nether lips. Normally I would have fought with tooth and nail to keep thoughts of Tyler out of my head, but after being rebuffed by Don, I welcomed his image into my head. In my mind I was back on the couch with my son, yet not stroking his injured thigh. At that moment, I was thinking about stroking his hard cock instead, desperately wanting to give him the pleasure his father clearly did not want.

I found myself slowly rocking my hips against my probing fingers, no longer caring if I disturbed my husband's slumber. My blood began to boil as I pictured yanking down Tyler's shorts and taking his young cock into my mouth, and sucking him to completion. Seconds later, I came with a rush as I imagined swallowing my son's cream, with him screaming in my ears, "Oh, Mom!"

After I had recovered from my orgasm, I began to feel quite guilty at the pleasure my lewd thoughts had given me. Sure, Don had been a jackass towards me for a while, but he was still my husband. And Tyler was my son for heaven's sake, what the hell was I thinking? Yes, I had been ignored and neglected, but that was no reason to imagine sucking my son's cock just to get myself off.

I was deeply saddened when August first rolled around because I knew Tyler would soon be heading back to school. My heart was heavy as I pictured the emptiness I would feel by his absence, at home with only my husband for companionship. Don was never abusive mind you, but he seemed to grow jealous of Tyler and my relationship over the summer. I think, or maybe hoped, he was possibly seeing just what he had lost.

Tyler was leaving for school on the next Saturday morning, so on Friday evening we enjoyed one last workout together. The session was quieter than usual as I think we both were saddened by the prospect of being apart. We made eye contact often, and for some reason I couldn't help but blush. I felt like a schoolgirl once more, but my crush was no longer Billy Hanlon.

After our intense session, we once again took a long walk through the neighborhood, hand in hand. We strolled casually, wanting to spend as much time together as possible without ever admitting it aloud. When the sky grew dark, we sadly turned and made our way home.

Arriving back at the front door, Tyler held both my hands in his and stared at me lovingly. Tears formed in my eyes as I gazed back at him, and then I moved forward and rested my head on his chest. He pulled me into a tight embrace as my body began to shudder with sobs. It felt wonderful to be in the arms of someone who truly loved me and I clung to him for dear life. As he patted my back, Tyler whispered in my ear, "It'll be okay, Mom."

After what seemed like hours, Tyler eased away and looked down upon me once more. His eyes were filled with such love; my heart almost skipped a beat. No words were spoken as he moved his lips to mine and we softly kissed. Our mouths moved together gently for a few seconds when I felt the tip of his tongue make contact with my own. It lasted only a moment as if he was testing me, but a shiver ran down my spine, right to my groin. I felt a longing between my legs that I had never before experienced, which frankly scared me, given the fact that we were standing on our front steps with bright light shining on us from above. Deathly afraid that the neighbors might be watching, I pushed myself away and almost ran indoors.

Moments later I found myself alone in the safety of my shower. I was ashamed that I left Tyler without a word of explanation, yet the fire burning in my loins was still there, and I just had to put it out. Two fingers of my right hand curled in and out of my sex, while my left hand was pressed against the tile wall for support. When I came, it was not the face of my husband that I saw, but that of my loving son.

For some reason, after my orgasm I broke down in tears and began sobbing silently as I tried to come to terms with my tattered emotions. Knowing in just hours Tyler would be gone and I may not see him again for months, I was filled with immense sadness. It took ages to finally fall asleep that evening as I just could not stifle all the mixed emotions I was feeling.

In the morning Tyler packed up his car, and Don and I saw him off without much fanfare. I was on pins and needles, afraid I might do something to reveal just how distressed I really was. I longed to embrace him like the night before, but this time never let him go. Instead, I gave him a curt hug and a quick peck on the cheek, and the next thing I knew, he was gone.

Over the next couple days, I actually felt sickened by my behavior. Because I didn't have the courage to face him and talk about why I had run away after our kiss, I'm sure Tyler was left feeling immense guilt. I finally sat down at my computer one evening and typed him a long e-mail. I basically told him I treasured our time together and loved the fact that he had been so wonderful to me, but apologized for getting carried away that last evening, without ever actually mentioning the kiss. After reading over the message a number of times, with great apprehension I hit the send button.

I checked my in box at least fifty times before I finally received Tyler's response. His words were so sweet I had to re-read them a second time through musty eyes. He said I had nothing to apologize for, that he was the one that got carried away, not I. The last line of his text read, "I just hope you don't hate me."

How could I ever hate my son? He clearly had no idea hate was the last emotion I could ever feel towards him. It had taken me a while to realize it, but I no longer just loved Tyler, I was in love with him. Head over heels like nothing I had ever felt before.

Rather than just send back a message, I decided I needed to be brave and actually phone him. I took my cell phone to the basement, and punched in his number. Tyler must have been in class, because it went straight to his voice mail. After listening to his short greeting, I left the following stammering message, "Hi honey, it's Mom. I just read your e-mail and needed to let you know that I don't hate you...I could never, ever hate you. I'm so, so sorry I ran away from you the other night and wanted you to know you did nothing wrong. I was just concerned that if your father or the neighbors saw us, they might, umm, you know, get the wrong idea. Please don't feel bad about this, sweetie. I love you so much and already miss you a ton. Take good care, honey. I love you."