Afternoons with Mrs. K Ch. 03

After over a week or so of being home, and apparently trying, Steven still had not found any employment, so I assisted him by contacting Derek, an old friend of myself and my late husband, who ran a small building company, and asked if he had any work for Steven. Derek did, but explained it was very demanding manual work. Steven would mainly be carrying hods of bricks up ladders or digging trenches, but, although unused to these kinds of tasks, he was young, fit and strong and should be able to handle it ok.

During is first working day, I tried to do some research for Steven on the Internet, looking for likely courses he could apply for. Infuriatingly, while I was engaged in this, my quite new computer then crashed and would not reboot properly. I knew Jay was quite knowledgeable about computers. I rang him on his mobile phone to ask for help but it was switched off, so I left a message asking him to come over and help me when he had finished at college.

When Steven returned home he looked exhausted. He flopped down in a chair in the kitchen.

"Mum, today nearly killed me, I was lifting for hours," he said, rubbing at his arms.

I fixed some food and joined him at the table. "It's ok son, your body will get used to it in a day or two."

"Yeah, I guess you're right Mum, and at least the wages Derek said he will pay me will be enough to me to be able to afford to go surfing in a few weeks."

Steven gave a satisfied grin at the thought, and then looked up at me. "Mum remember how you used to give Dad massages when his back hurt sometimes after he had played golf or had been working in the garden? He always used to say you had magic hands."

"Yes he did Steven," I replied, smiling at the memory.

"Well Mum, can you give me one of your massages to help ease my aching back please?"

I was uneasy at the way he said this. He looked at me slightly lasciviously, almost lecherously.

"Look Steven, you go and have a long hot shower, that should ease some of your aches and pains," I suggested. He nodded a reluctant agreement then left for the bathroom.

I sat at the kitchen table, picking at my meal. I debated the situation with myself. Was my son trying to subtly make some kind of a move on me, using the massage as a subterfuge, even some sort of code? Or was this just a case of him wanting some relief. I determined not to be cynical about it and that if he was still in physical discomfort, I would try and help him out.

Despite the shower, Steven really did seem extremely keen for a massage. "Mum, my back hurts very badly, my arms ache and have lost strength, and my legs are giving me severe pain. My neck feels kind of cramped and sore too," he complained.

I remember thinking that if that was the case, it was surprising he was able to move at all. He was sounding like a person who had been involved in a serious car accident rather than a fit young man who had done one day of manual work. I decided, though, to keep this thought to myself and to try and help him out. After all, what kind of mother refuses her son help in an hour of need?

I asked Steven to go into his bedroom, while I went and found some massage oil, which I warmed quickly in the microwave oven. When I returned he was facing away from me. He had taken his T-shirt off, and I noticed that his musculature was far more developed than I remember from a holiday we had in Greece a year or so ago. At nineteen, he was now a strong young man, with slim hips tapering into a sinuous back and wide shoulders. The sight of him made me realise that he was now a grown man, even if he did not always act as one.

On hearing me enter the room, Steven turned around and smiled. The way his lips curled up and the warmth in his blue eyes reminded me of my late husband Alan. I then noticed his stomach was now a smooth flat six-pack. I suddenly felt quite flushed in the face.

I must have appeared so too, as Steven asked, "Mum are you ok?"

"Yes dear, I'm fine," I replied, not sounding in the least bit convincing.

"Ok, it's just that you look a bit red in the face," he said. "Oh, and shall I take my jeans off so you can massage my legs too?"

"Oh, ummm, yes," I stuttered. I was getting a bit flustered.

Steven stooped and pulled his jeans off. He was left wearing only a rather tight black pair of Calvin Klein boxer shorts, which looked rather gorgeous on him. He lay face down on his bed and moved so as to be comfortable and I knelt with my knees outside his on the bed. I squirted a generous amount of the massage oil on my hands and began working on him.

Firstly, I worked on his neck and the muscles that connect it to the shoulders. He felt quite tight and bunched, but as I pressed firmly and worked the soothing liquid into them they seemed to relax and soften. Steven was certainly pleased. "Oh that's great Mum, you've got a lovely touch."

Next I placed my hands both side of his spine and worked up and down his back, from the neck to the top of his shorts. Then I just generally probed the larger muscles nearer his shoulders. From time to time Steven would emit contented sighing sounds, and I was pleased to help him. Yes, I was still annoyed about his university expulsion, but at least he was endeavouring to get onto a fresh course, and was prepared to do a day's hard labour to earn his way in the world. And then there was the fact that I found massaging him so enjoyable. He had such beautiful hard young flesh.

After probably 15-20 minutes attending to his back, I applied some oil to the rear of his legs. His calf muscles were particularly tight so I firmly kneaded them which seemed to help judging by Steven's continuing sighs. The upper rear parts of his legs were also somewhat tense, so I worked oil in quite firmly. I began to find the action of massaging him quite hypnotic.

"Mum," Steven said in a relaxed friendly way, breaking my reverie, "That's great, but if I take the shorts off you can get to the top of the muscles there, which are sore and you haven't reached yet."

"Yes, certainly son, you do that," I found myself saying almost automatically. Only a second after I had spoken this did I realise what that entailed: my beautiful young son being totally naked with me massaging his body!

Well, at this realisation I felt quite shocked. My face burned and there was some tightness in my chest. Was this appropriate? Should I end this massage now? For a few moments I debated with myself, before deciding that this 'was' only a massage, and that we were two adults, albeit mother and son.

As Steven turned on his side to remove his shorts I deliberately looked at the bottle, avoiding him. He quickly resumed his position, and I spread some more oil in my palms. I knelt over him again. 'Oh my God,' his buns were gorgeous: tight, smooth, beautiful. For a while I just stared at his beauty. I was wet now; I could feel juice moving in and from my pussy and begin the process of soaking my panties; my clit throbbed. I knew right there and then I had lost control, and I didn't care. 'Guilt,' I said to myself, 'Screw it.'

Steven's legs were pressed together, meaning I couldn't see his testicles or penis, which was a shame, and something I would have to rectify soon. I couldn't resist teasing him a bit, realising he blatantly knew exactly what he was doing. Aching body indeed!

I rubbed and very lightly spanked one taught gorgeous smooth buttock and leant my mouth close to his ear. "Are you ok son?" I asked in a deliberately wanton way. "Ohhh, yes Mum, yes," he replied, making no attempt to disguise his pleasure.

I moved my hands all over those sweet, firm rounded globes, revelling in the sight and feel of his beautiful ass, which reminded me of a carved Greek statue. The oil I applied made a delightful sheen; he was glistening; those buns looked edible.

I knelt and planted some kisses on his cheeks. I then licked them, sucked them and lightly bit them as I slipped a hand under my skirt, inside my drenched panties and pushed down on my pulsing clit.

Then I broke my mouth worship of his butt, and moved my face up to kiss the back of his neck, before gently blowing in his ear. Steven turned his head and pouted his lips. We kissed softly and gently; tongue meeting tongue. I broke the kiss, "Are you ok with this Mum?" he asked. "What do you think Steven," I replied, trying to inject some mock authority in my voice as I traced one oiled warm finger down his spine and parted his butt cheeks. I let it rest at the opening of what I discovered to be one very cute puckered anal ring. I wanted to taste him in the way Jay tasted me. I wanted to slip my tongue deep inside his tight asshole.

I moved my mouth south and resumed kissing those sculpted firm cheeks. Steven was now actually twisting on the bed. He loved this!

He shifted onto his knees a touch, making his butt rise a few inches. I took this as a cue, and spread his cheeks apart; he helped by widening his legs for me. His asshole looked just sooo beautiful; crinkly, wrinkly and puckered. I dived into it, ramming my tongue as deep inside him as I could, reaming him, licking inside and revelling in his fresh taste.

He moaned in total contentment and pleasure all the while as I slowly ate his ass. After some considerable period of time, I removed my tongue. I looked at him, and saw two beautiful smooth balls hanging slightly. His hard cock was pointing forward, almost flat against his belly.

"Turn over please Steven?" I asked him. He did, presenting me with the wonderful sight of his erect tool sticking up proudly. He was clean shaven there too. He looked fantastic.

I sat across his lower legs, and asked him, "Do you want to see my breasts son?" He nodded and smiled, and I saw his cock actually jerk up and down twice.

I've always been very happy with my large boobs. Despite no longer being a young woman, they are still quite firm, only hanging a small amount when released from a bra. Men seem to love my very big nipples too, and give them plenty of attention, which I love as they are extremely sensitive.

As Steven watched me intently and hungrily, I slowly unbuttoned my white blouse and discarded it; then did the same with my bra, exposing my chest to him.

Steven literally licked his lips, then leant forward and began sucking my nipples hungrily; almost frantically. In a muffled voice he exclaimed, "I love you Mum, you're the best."

"I love you too, and want you to cum for me Steven," I told him, trying to instil some authority in my voice. I picked up the massage oil bottle and squirted some on his right palm. "Son, let me see you cum."

He leant back and worked his oiled hand around his rock hard cock, crudely pumping it a few times before shouting out, "Yes Mum, yesssssssss," as strings of cum shot from the pulsing swollen head and sprayed onto my breasts.

I scooped some on my fingers and tasted it. Yummmmm, it was sumptuous. I then began rubbing the thick cream into my breasts. Steven joined in too and we met in a passionate kiss… and then someone began to open the bedroom door!

To be continued……..

I'd like to thank those kind readers who responded to my previous stories. I enjoy feedback, and if anyone writes to my e-mail address and leaves me theirs, I will be happy to reply. - Jay