Happy Endings

My life had not gone as I had accepted it to. I didn’t have that dream life that women plan out when they are little girls. Sure, I had gotten married and had a child. But I had gotten married too young and though my husband and I never spilt up we aren’t happy with each other now. He hasn’t had sex with me in about a year now. I know he’s cheating on me, but I just don’t have the energy to start a fight with him. I really don’t care anyway; I gave up on him a long time ago.

Now, I have become bored on top of lonely. My son is now in college and though he still lives at home I hardly ever see him. I’ve thought about getting a job, but then I think of all the reasons not to. Why get a job and be independent when I could just live off my husband’s money. He deserves it anyway. The hell he’s put me through, making me into this depressed shadow of myself. I figure that it kills him everyday to know that he still has to see me, support me, and when he is home lay with me in bed. It makes my day a little better to know that I’m making him just as miserable as he has made me. I know that it probably isn’t the way to live, and I might not be so depressed if I leave him, but I can’t do it. Though I tell myself that I hate him, deep down there is still the love that I had for him when we were first married, and the feeling of pleasure when I see his face draw down when he comes home and sees that I am still here.

To pass the time of day I took up masturbating. I know it sounds silly that I would do this to pass the day away, but I really have nothing else to do. Plus, it makes me happy for the moment especially when I hit that point of no return. I started doing it just to relieve the sexual tension that I felt, but soon I figured out that after I calmed down I was still horny. Masturbating alone doesn’t cure how horny I am, just makes it better for a little while.

I started staying in the bedroom all day long, but after awhile the scenery in there got too boring and I couldn’t get off anymore. I moved into the living room, first on the floor then moving up to the couch. Soon, that wasn’t enough either, and I started to open the blinds in the house. Letting anyone who looked in the house a chance to see me, this excited me more than anything I had ever done. I fantasized that my male neighbors were watching me intently, though I had really no idea if anyone saw me or not. It turned me on just thinking that they were.

One day after one of my many sessions my son came in the door. I was putting away all my toys. I let out a breath of relief. I knew that I was cutting it close today, but I was in need of it more than ever that day. I threw my dress back on, ran my fingers through my hair, put on a smile and went to greet him.

“Hi Brad.”

“Hey Mom.”

He looked worried, “something wrong honey?” I could hear my voice was still shaky from the orgasm that I had just experienced, I cleared my throat in hopes that it would go away.

He shook his head and looked at me, “I’ve been thinking, and I don’t know why you stay with Dad. I mean obliviously things haven’t gone well between you two in a long time. Look at you, I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’re still pretty and all, but you walk around with your shoulders slumped. You have bags under your eyes, and I just can’t stand to see it anymore. You sound like you’re about to cry now.”

I cleared my throat again, “I’m not about to cry, and I don’t think you need to concern yourself with mine and your father’s problems.”

“Yes, I do. I hate seeing you like this, and I blame him for it. I saw him the other night at a bar with some girl. You need to leave him.”

“I am not going to leave your father. I made vows a long time ago, and I will stay with those vows. I’m done talking about this with you.”

“Whatever. Look if you aren’t going to leave him, at least make yourself happy. Go out find a man or something.”

“I’m not going to bring myself down to your father’s level by going out and getting some man. Now, stop talking about it. I am happy when you’re here, and that’s all that matters.”

“There’ll be a time when I don’t live here anymore Mom. What’re you going to do then?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t want to talk about it anymore. You hungry?”

“Naw, I just stopped in to grab one of my books. I’m going to the library to study with some friends.”

“Oh okay. When are you going to be back?”

“Late probably.” He kissed my forehead and ran upstairs. On his way back down he stopped and stared at me again. “Mom you should really think about what I said even though you wouldn’t let me finish. It might do you some good.”

I gave him a stern look, but before I could say anything to him he walked out the door. I plopped down on the couch and flipped on the TV. There wasn’t really anything on, but staring mindlessly at it made me not think about what Brad had said.

The days that follow were filled with lectures from my son. No matter how much I told him I didn’t want to listen to it, he wouldn’t shut up. Everyday was the same, he’d command me, and he’d plead with me to be happy again, to leave his father, or find another man. I began to shut my ears to him, and dread when it came time for him to come home. I knew he had my best interests at heart, but he was starting to make me miserable.

I noticed one day while he endlessly went on about my happiness that his body language had changed and he looked at me differently than he usually did. Usually he wore that careless look of young men but now he stared at me more intently. It made me uncomfortable; I had the odd feeling that I should cross my arms over my breasts as if to conceal them from his gaze. I started to avoid him, always making sure that I was doing something when he came home so that I couldn’t look at him.

The days passed and I grew more uncomfortable in my son’s presence. I didn’t know if it was because of his endless ramblings or if it was the way he looked at me, with a type of hunger in his eyes as if I were his pray and he was waiting to pounce. Most of my awaking hours were spent trying to figure out what had caused the change in my son. I was perplexed until the day that he made it known.

I was sitting on the floor, naked, my toys still spread out around me; I had just finished my last session of the day. I was panting, my body still racked in convulsions when I heard a noise. I turned my head to the source, the magnificent feeling that wrapped my body disappearing quickly as a ripple of fear went down my spine. “Who’s there?” I called out, my voice shaky. I held my breath and strained my ears to here a reply or any noise from the intruder. “Hello?” I called, my voice getting braver, a hint of annoyance in it. Then he stepped out, I gasped, standing there was not a neighbor or anyone else who might take delight in my show, but my very own son. My hands went instantly to my exposed bosom and I clasped my legs together tightly as my son stared at me. He said nothing but walked closer. I followed him with my eyes that were full of shame, and a little fear as he came closer. He was now standing inches away from me; I tried to speak, to tell him to go away and that I was sorry he had seen this but I couldn’t form any words. His hand came down and his fingers ran lightly over my cheeks. I turned my head away from his touch, tears starting to flow from my eyes as the shame of what my own son had seen set in. He wiped the tears away and finally spoke.

“I’ve been watching you Mom. Everyday now for the past month or so. After you’re done, I wait for you to go upstairs and I go to the den. I jack off with the images of you still fresh in my mind, fantasizing that it was me that gave you so much pleasure.”

“No Brad.” I had found my voice again.

“Yes, Mom. I started to lecture you on getting a man in hopes that you’d see that the man I wanted you to have was me. But you didn’t get it, or you pushed it off. I don’t know which one.”

“Brad, you are my son. I can’t have you as a lover.”

“But you can. It’d be perfect.”

“No Brad, it would be wrong.”

“Others might see it that way, but I don’t. You’re so pretty, and even more beautiful when you’re cumming. I want to see that beauty and know that it was me giving it to you.”

“Brad I can’t.”

“You can. Just think I can give you all that my worthless father can’t. I can give you the pleasure that you desire.”

I shook my head, to stunned to reply to him.

“Come on Mom. You’d love it, I promise.”

“No Brad please leave me alone.”

He said nothing else; his hands left my face and went to his pants. I bent my head down as he freed his cock. I felt his hand come back to my skin; He lifted my head, my eyes now in direct contact with his engorged male hood. My body began to quiver at the site of him, my mouth watered. I felt the uncontrollable urge to feel his cock down my throat and to feel him in me, pounding my soaked pussy until I gave way to multiple orgasms, and I forgot that he was my son. But though I felt these urges my reasoning stayed with me. I tried to pull my head free of his grasp, but he had a strong hold on me. I shook my head hard while repeatedly telling him no, my lips pressed together so hard that they were starting to hurt.

“I can make you feel good again. You have endless possibilities with me.”

I felt my mind breaking with his persuasions. I looked up at him, and as soon as he saw that my lips had softened he brought his cock to them. I let out a moan as I felt the tip of his cock press against my mouth. He moved his cock across my lips, I pressed them together, and my body shook as I tasted the sweet pre-cum that had left a trail on my lips. I was done; I felt all resistance give way. I opened my mouth to receive his cock. He thrust it hard into my mouth, and I choked. Regaining myself, I began to constrict my throat over his cock, pushing him in and out of my mouth with the muscles. I heard him moan, and his hips began to keep rhythm with my mouth. I felt my pussy begin to throb; the juices began to flow again, down my thighs onto the floor. I moaned and began to run my fingers over my hardened clit. It seemed as soon as my fingers touched my pussy that I was going to cum. I moved them, not wanting to make myself cum. I began to feel his cock swell in my mouth, and knew that he would cum too. I removed his cock from my mouth, “fuck me Brad.” He smiled at me, “Just the words I wanted to hear.”

He helped me up and took me to the couch. He bent my upper half down, my feet still on the floor, my ass up in the air. I felt him enter me, and I let out a loud moan. He began to move his hips, pulling his cock in and out of me slowly at first. I pulled my muscles tight around him as he thrust into me, and released as he pulled out. His moaning became louder as I constricted my muscles tighter around him with every thrust. “My God, you’re amazing! Your pussy feels so good!” His thrust became quicker, harder. I felt his balls slap against my clit as he moved, and my own moans became louder. I felt my orgasm begin to build deep inside my belly again. I felt my juices began to shoot out over his cock. I screamed as my orgasm began to reach its height. “I’m cumming! Oh god! Fuck me! Make me cum!” My words were lost as the waves of passion washed over me. I felt his hands grip tighter around my hips, “I’m going to cum Mom.” Just hearing him call me Mom in the throws of my passion made my pussy throb more. “Cum inside me. Fill my cunt up!” I felt the hot release of his seed, and I began to cum again. I sucked in my breath making my pussy even tighter around his swollen cock. I pouted a little as I felt him pull out. Quickly I turned around, and took his cock into my mouth once more. Tasting the mingled juices of our fucking, I moaned again as I cleaned his dick. I felt his body shaking and his hands in my hair, he pulled me from him. I looked up at him to see a smile on his face. We said nothing to each other, but I knew that this was just the beginning.

In the weeks that followed I craved nothing but my son. After the first time it never crossed my mind that it was wrong, it felt right to me. The days seemed longer now that I waited for him to come home so that I could feel his cock in every crevice of my body, and taste him on my lips and tongue. I wanted nothing else; I put my toys away and had not touched them since the day that my son had given his body to me. I felt a new sense of happiness and empowerment. I taught and showed him things that he had never imagined before. I was the first one that he had ever fucked in the ass, all his little college girls were too afraid to do it. I brought to him ultimate pleasure in gratitude for releasing mine. I couldn’t get enough of him nor could he get enough of me. We’d sneak out of our bedrooms in the middle of the night and end up in the bathroom, den, living room, or sometimes I’d end up in his bed. All cautions of my husband finding us left our minds once we were joined together. There were many times when I heard my husband get out of bed while I was fucking our son, and I invited the chance of him catching us. But he was either oblivious or didn’t care because he never came and interrupted us. Soon, I had pushed all thoughts of the man that I had married out of my mind. The more I ignored him the longer he’d stay away from the house. I figured that I had gotten my revenge. He might not know that it was our son that I had been fucking, but he knew that I was getting it from somewhere since my whole attitude had changed. I knew that he couldn’t handle that I was happy again, and that was why he stayed away. I was glad of that; it gave me more time with my new lover.

After our affair had gone on for a while I could tell that something was wrong with my son. He would fuck me but it didn’t seem as though he was there. I began to worry that this would end up like my marriage and I would have two men in my home that wouldn’t talk to me. I began to wonder what was wrong with me. Why couldn’t I keep a man interested in me? I had to find out what was wrong with him.

“What’s the matter Brad? Are you bored of me already?”

“I wouldn’t say that I’m bored with you. But I would like more.”

“What do you mean? I don’t do enough for you now?”

“No, you do plenty. But you’ve fucked me every way you can, and now I want more.”

“You’re father said the same thing.”

“Well, you ever think that maybe you should have given him more?”

“I asked him what more meant, and he said he didn’t know, just more.”

“You ever think that more meant he wanted other people involved? Maybe another man or a woman?”

“It crossed my mind, but I couldn’t do that.”

“Why not? You fuck your own son.”

“Don’t be mean. At the time, I didn’t think that I could handle it. I thought I’d get jealous if I saw him fucking another woman.”

“Did it ever cross your mind that it didn’t always have to be a woman? You could have had another man. Plus you could have pleasure from another woman also. You wouldn’t just have to sit back and watch him have fun.”

“Why all of a sudden are you on your father’s side? It wasn’t that long ago that you cursed him for what he has done to me.”

“I’m not on anybodies side. I’m just throwing out possibilities.”

“Really? Well, whatever. I have to get up and get some things done.”

“Always running away from your problems Mom. If you’d just sit and think about things for a minute all your problems could be solved.”

“I don’t run away from my problems. Look, I’m not getting into this with you. I have things to do.”

“Fine.”

I got up and looked at him. He had a smile on his face, but I could tell that he was angry. His usually calm eyes were vibrant and his eyebrows were pulled down, making the smile on his face look more like a sneer.

I quit going to him. I couldn’t look at him anymore without thinking about the conversation we had had. It upset me to think that my own son had turned on me. I decided to just give up sex altogether. I didn’t want anything to do with it anymore. All it caused me was pain anyway. First my husband then my lover, my own son, I started to feel dirty about what I had done with Brad. I should have resisted him the first time. I should have gotten up and run away from him, but I guess you can’t live on should haves.

It has been almost a year since I decided to go into celibacy. I feel like a stranger in my own home. My son and husband now get along wonderfully, but not one of them come to talk to me, unless they want something passed at the dinner table. I guess that this is my punishment for not giving either one of them all that they wanted, and I guess it is what I deserve. I watch both of the men in my life talk to each other softly enough to where I can’t hear them. Every once in awhile one will glance at me, or they both will at the same time. I wonder when they talk like this if they are planning my fate. Thinking of ways to get rid of me so that they don’t have to look at the woman that disappointed them both, I can’t handle when they talk like this. So, most of the time I retire to my bedroom to cry, and think about what I will do with the rest of my life, for there is no way that I can stay in this house much longer.

I decided to leave; after my husband and son had left for the day I began to pack up my belongings. It wasn’t much, just my clothes; everything else belonged to my husband. I brought everything downstairs and sat on the couch. I wondered where I was going to go with no money and no job. I decided that I would just have to go to my mothers until I found another place to go. It made me feel even worse that I had to go back to her after the many years of being on my own, but what else could I do. I started crying again, and hated myself for it. I was so weak, but my whole world was crashing down around me, and it was my entire fault.

As I sat there feeling sorry for myself I heard the door open. I turned around to see what was going on and I saw both my husband and my son standing there. They looked at me as though I was some foreign object, and I looked back at them with wonder. They saw my stuff all bagged up and ready to go. I watched my husband shake his head with a bewildered smile on his face. Finally he spoke, “what are you doing?”

“I’m leaving.”

“Why?”

“Nobody around here wants me. So, what’s the point in staying?”

“Who told you that nobody here wants you?”

“No one, I just know.”

“And how do you know this?”

“Stop! I’m tired of all your questions. I’m tired of you treating me like I was a little girl who doesn’t know any better.”

“I’m just wondering. Nobody has said that they didn’t want you around. Have they?”

“I don’t have to be told. I know when I’m not wanted.”

“What if it was us who felt as though they were being left out and not you?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about you not giving us the time of day.”

“That’s a bunch of bullshit! It is you that have ignored me.”

“I’m not so sure of that. Brad told me that just as soon as he confronted you with some things that were on his mind you quit going to him. You did the same thing with me.”

My eyes opened so wide that they hurt when I heard my husband knew about Brad and me. I looked at my son in and he smiled. “Yes, Mom. Dad knew. He was the one who told me to go to you. He thought that if he couldn’t make you happy then I could.”

“But..but..” I looked at them in amazement.

“Are you starting to realize that it wasn’t our entire fault Dear? That you too played a role in how miserable you are now.”

“No! No! You made me miserable! You and your whoring around. You’d come lay in my bed after you spent all night fucking some slut….” My voice rose in anger, and it irked me even more that both men stood there calm and collective, mocking my anger.