Inspiring Mom (With Son's Help)

It was early morning and Andrea sat by the dining table in her ordinary suburban home. But what was on her mind was anything but ordinary.

Her phone was on the table after speaking with her agent and the cup of coffee next to her was starting to cool down. She was in such deep thought that she barely acknowledged the fact that her son had come down the stairs for breakfast.

After he grabbed his breakfast cereal and sat down to eat, Andrea was finally able to say something to him.

"I spoke with my agent a few minutes ago," she said, still in her train of thought. "We had an interesting conversation."

"What about?" he asked, taking a bite of his cereal.

"She suggested that I try writing erotica. As in, erotic stories. Can you believe it?"

For the first time that morning, Andrea was able to crack a small smile. She was thoroughly amused at the sight of her son nearly spitting out his cereal. She knew he'd be shocked, and she tried to make a serious (yet playful) face to show that she really meant it.

"What was your response?" he asked.

"I told her I'd consider it. It might be refreshing to write something different for a change. The market is changing and I have to change with it."

The day before, she sadly had to explain to him that the book sales for her last two novels were in a slump compared to her earlier stories. There was an awkwardness as she broke the news to him that she may have to try a different path.

"So this means you're actually going to do it?" Ben asked weirdly.

Naturally, it was unusual for a mother to be talking about anything sex related, even with a college-aged son.

She squinted her eyes playfully. "You're looking at me like I'm crazy. What's the matter? You don't think I can do it?"

"Of course you can."

"Then are you embarrassed that I would write about sex? Or maybe it would be awkward for you?"

"No. It's not that."

"Then what is it?" she asked.

"It's just that... you're you. I mean, really? No offense, but you don't seem like the type."

"Then who is? Look at all of the erotic authors out there. They're not exactly Hollywood sex symbols. They're writers. Plain old average writers. My point is, anyone can do it."

"That makes sense," Ben acknowledged.

"Does this mean I have your permission to become an erotic author?"

Andrea's voice trailed off at the end, which suggested that she was leading him on with this question.

"You're asking me for permission?"

"Kind of," she replied. "I'm trying to be mindful of my family and friends. I especially don't want to embarrass you in any way."

"It wouldn't embarrass me at all. And it's not like anyone at college knows that my mother is a famous author."

"And if they did?"

He blushed, "If people knew, then I guess I'd be embarrassed."

"Since no one knows, are you okay with it?" she asked with a faint sense of enthusiasm.

"You don't need my permission, mom. Write about whatever you want."

"Thank you. I'm not saying that I'm actually going to do it. It's just an option I'm considering. It might be nice to write about something different. Something new. I don't know, maybe my work was starting to become stale."

"I think you're a great writer."

She smiled, "Your opinion is all that matters."

"My opinion doesn't pay the bills though," he joked.

She gave a playful motherly expression, but deep down, she took this as a challenge. She loved writing challenges. It reminded her of her college days when she prided herself in her creative writing classes on being able to make anything.

But at the same time, she wondered how Ben would react reading her erotic work, if she decided to actually do it. Ben always read her work. And if she decided to go all in, then all her private thoughts and fantasies would be known to the world.

***

For the next few days, Andrea wrestled with her decision. Her latest sales figures were okay, but nothing like her debut novel, which was lucky enough to have been placed on shelves in Target and other major retailers.

She compared that the market analysis she got from her publisher, which showed that erotica novels were on a rise. Soccer moms especially were eating it up. And women are the primary purchasers of all books.

Once she made up her mind, she was unstoppable.

Days passed. Then weeks. Andrea was in full work mode. Normally, when her son came home from his college classes, she'd be eager to show him her latest plot points or scenes. She loved his positive feedback (whether he actually meant it or not) and she appreciated the advice he was sometimes able to give.

This time, her work was in full lockdown. Aside from her agent and a few key people at the publishing office, no one knew anything. She also kept her more than 850,000 twitter followers in the dark about her latest novel, and she was someone who always enjoyed having a causal connection with her readers.

One afternoon, while standing in the kitchen, she gazed through the backyard window holding a cup of coffee. It was something she did when she needed a break or was struggling with certain plot points.

"This is harder than I expected," she said, still facing the window when she had heard her son coming down the stairs towards her direction.

Ben opened the refrigerator for some juice. "What do you mean?"

"Writing great sex scenes," she said, turning towards his direction. "I'm about to hit my first one. Gosh it's hard."

Andrea was mildly amused watching Ben slowly close the refrigerator door, forgetting about his juice. Apparently he wasn't thirsty anymore.

"It can't be that hard," he said. "Just do what you normally do. It's all about imagination, right?"

"Yeah, but I like to put myself in the shoes of the character. That's when I do my best writing. It's more realistic and riveting that way. With erotica, gosh, I'm not that kind of person."

He shrugged. "Well I guess it's not for everyone to write."

"Are you saying I should quit?"

Andrea sharpened her gaze. Her competitive side was coming out and she dared her son to challenge her.

"That's not what I'm saying," he replied smoothly. "I meant that some topics are harder to write than others."

She nodded. "Which is true. I guess my point is that I have a mental barrier at the thought of everyone being able to read my... you know... inner thoughts. Thoughts which no one should know, frankly."

"I'd be embarrassed as hell if I had to write anything like that. Are you actually going to continue this?"

"The publishers think it's a great step for my career and they've already placed a release date for this story."

"Anything I could do to help?" he asked passively.

She couldn't help but give her son a strange look. A light bulb switched on in her head. It may not have been the best of ideas, but it was an idea nonetheless. Maybe, it was even a brilliant idea.

"Are you actually interested in helping?" Andrea asked lovingly. "I don't want to bother you. I know you're busy with college and everything. But I promise it'll be super quick."

With her excitement, there was no way for Ben to refuse.

"Mom, of course I'll help you. What kind of person do you think I am?"

She smiled, "Great! I may have to accept your offer. But not yet. I'll think of something though."

Oddly, it was the most excited she felt about her new book since she first began writing it. Now that her son was involved, she'd have plenty of inspiration for all the sexy parts she needed to write.

***

Saturday morning. Andrea felt like a hunter setting a trap for her prey, the way she was waiting for her son. She heard his footsteps coming down the stairs and she was ready to put him to work.

"Right on time," she said happily. "Everything is freshly prepared."

"What's the occasion?" he asked, still a bit sleepy.

She pretended to be offended. "Can't I do anything nice for you without there being a condition?"

"Sorry. This looks great."

"Have a seat. I'll serve you."

They sat down and ate together. Andrea stuck to the plan of spoiling her son that morning, and Ben seemed to appreciate every second of it, as he enjoyed the food and all the service from his mother.

When he leaned back in the chair, content with everything, it was Andrea's chance to find some inspiration.

"About that favor you offered," she said calmly. "Do you think you can help me after this?"

"Of course."

She smiled, "Perfect. I'll clean the dishes and I'll meet you in the living room in about 15 minutes. I need to get some stuff organized first. Okay?"

"Sure thing."

Andrea cleaned everything up and went to the living room where her son had been waiting. The anticipation was growing within her. Would this work? Was this even appropriate? As Ben turned off the tv, she was about to find out.

"Stand up," she said excitedly, with her hands on her hips.

Ben stood up and realized that this was serious business.

"You got it."

"My writing style is very sensory," she stated. "I need to dig into the details so I can conjure up the right words and sentences. I've never told anyone this, but for my first novel, I did a lot of roleplaying with my ex-boyfriend. That's why it was a hit-- the little details made it captivating. Now that I'm single, you'll have to take that place."

He was taken aback. "I don't get it. What exactly do you want me to do?"

"Nothing really. Just stand here and let me touch you. Is that okay?"

He was even more taken aback. "I still don't get it."

"It's hard for me to explain, but in order for me to write detailed descriptions, I need the right feelings of hardcore passion. That's where you come in."

His eyes suddenly widened. "Oh..."

"That came out totally wrong," she laughed. "Relax. I'm not going to have sex with you. All I need is for you to stand still. That's all."

"Oh. Okay."

"Think of me as a method actor. The more I inhabit the characters, the more I can write their feelings. Does that make sense at all?"

He nodded. "Do whatever you want. As long as it makes for a great story."

"It'll be a killer story, and hopefully, a big hit too. Now hold still."

Andrea thought for a moment. She analyzed her son's body and contemplated where to attack.

Finally, she settled on a plan. She stood behind him and placed her soft hands on his back. She gave him a back rub over his tshirt. Then she hugged him, softly at first, then she gave a tight squeeze.

Her breasts were pressed against her son's back and she felt stimulated by it. Her nipples turned hard and she wondered if he noticed that. She also wondered if this would be giving him an erection, but she pushed those unnecessary thoughts away. This was work (which just so happened to feel good).

"Thank you," she whispered in his ear. "Now I've got the inspiration I need... for now"

As a reward, she gave him a kiss on the cheek after letting go of him.

"I'm glad I could help," he replied, turning around to face her.

As they faced each other, strangely, Ben's eyes drifted down to her chest. Maybe he enjoyed this a little too much, she thought to herself.

She thanked him again and went straight to her room to start typing away on her computer. Before she sat down, she glanced at her reflection in the full-length mirror.

Her nipples were hard and poking through her top. Had her own son been checking her out? Yes. Of course he was. And that feeling sent a tingling sensation inside of her vagina.

***

The week had passed and Andrea didn't ask for 'assistance' again. She didn't need it anymore.

But as the story progressed and the scenes needed to be more explicit, she began to rethink things, especially as her new editor (who had a wealth of experience in the erotica novel industry) had been asking for more 'heat.'

So, she had to do what she had to do. In her thin sweater and sweatpants, she walked barefoot down to the living room where her son was watching tv.

She sat next to him on the couch.

"Anything interesting?" she asked, with her eyes on the tv.

"The original Halloween movie from John Carpenter. I'm watching this before I check out the new one in the theater."

A horror scene happened and Andrea turned her head away. This was never something she was interested in.

"Can you watch later?" she asked. "Thankfully I didn't come here to watch tv with you. I just got off the phone with my new editor."

Those words quickly grabbed his attention.

He paused the movie. "Oh yeah? Anything new?"

"I emailed her all of the work I've done so far. She loves it. The publishers and my agent love it too."

"Wow. That's great!"

She suddenly looked coy. "There's good news and bad news."

"What's the good news?" he said.

"Well, the good news is that the publishers love my work so much, that they want more of it. They're even asking me to write short erotic stories for an upcoming compilation book that they're putting together."

"And the bad news?" he said again.

"I'm running low on steam," she stated. "It's easy to write one sex scene, maybe even two. But to write several and to keep them fresh, it's a challenge."

It was obvious that she wanted 'inspiration' again. She gave him a surefire cue in her tone, and she was certain he'd pick it up. He always understood what she wanted. That's why they got along so well.

"What are you saying?" he asked, playing coy.

She flashed a helpless and feminine look. "I was hoping you could do me another favor and be my assistant again. Are you up for it?"

"Only if you need me too."

She smiled, "You're my new good-luck charm. Seriously, you're like a good-luck genie that I can rub and wonderful things happen. I think we'll need to do it again."

"Whatever helps. I'm a great genie, I guess."

"Perfect. Now turn off the tv and we'll get to work."

When the tv was turned off, she stood up and pulled her sweater off. She was wearing a blue tshirt without a bra underneath. The shape of her breasts were visible, but her nipples were still soft.

She also grabbed a yellow notepad and pen from the living room table. She wanted to be extra prepared this time.

"I'm ready now," she smiled, putting the notepad down on the couch.

He stood up and they were face-to-face.

"Same position?" he asked.

"If you don't mind, I want something a little more risque this time."

"No problem."

"Are you sure you don't mind? I feel bad for doing this to you."

"It's no problem," he reassured.

She smiled, "Great. I'll hug you from the front this time. We'll hold the position for a while until I start thinking of ways to describe it. Then I'll write down whatever comes to mind. Sound okay?"

"That sounds like a plan."

Andrea took a step forward and she slowly put her hands around him. They were no strangers to hugs. They hugged all the time. But this was much more intimate. She did everything slowly. This was a braless hug, in only a small tshirt. Given that this was work, she put herself in the shoes of the character she was writing and she wanted to take full advantage of the moment.

She pressed her breasts against her son's chest. She held him tight and caressed his back with her hands. Her breasts were firmly rubbing against his chest. She pressed her face against him too. She was becoming aroused and her hands kept on rubbing.

Suddenly she stopped and released the hug. Then she quickly went to her notepad and scribbled down a bunch of her thoughts as fast as she possibly could. It was almost like a race.

"Perfect," she said to herself with a sense of satisfaction.

"Did you get what you wanted?"

"Almost. I think we can do a little more today so I won't have to bother you again later."

"That makes sense," he replied, going along with anything.

Andrea approached him again and gave him another big hug. She could tell that her son seemed eager to continue by holding his arms wide open. This time, she rubbed her face against his chest.

Her body slowly moved, side to side. Her breasts held firm. Her face continued to rub.

When she continued moving around, the top of her thigh brushed against his crotch. Was that what she thought it was? She felt it! It must have been an erection. It had to have been. To be sure, she lifted her leg to her son's crotch for an extra feel.

She lifted her face and looked at him straight in the eyes. She knew he was humiliated. If these conflicting emotions helped to inspire her story, then was this a success? She wondered.

"I think we've done enough for today," she said, leaning back.

"Oh... ummm... sorry about that."

"You have nothing to be sorry for. Thanks again. You've been such a big help."

When she took a step back, Andrea noticed her son's eyes briefly glance down at her chest, just like last time. At that very moment, Andrea knew that her nipples were hard again and she quickly grabbed her sweater to cover her chest with.

She thanked him again and went back to her room.

***

Dinner was mostly quiet that night. Being a merciful woman, Andrea didn't bother to bring up the session that day. There was no need to humiliate him. Erections are natural.

"My writing went well today," she said before taking another bite of her food.

"That's great."

"I couldn't have done it without you. You did an excellent job as my helper. Really, you did."

In a way, her response felt like she was being patronizing towards him because he had an erection during their artistic encounter. She didn't mean to, but it came across that way.

"Sorry about that," he said. "It was an accident. Can you really blame me?"

"What are you talking about?" she asked with a puzzled expression.

"Oh, never mind."

"Tell me," she insisted.

"You know, earlier when we hugged. Before you left..."

A slight grin appeared on her face. "That's perfectly natural. Don't worry about it. I've been to plenty of nude art classes and I've seen a bunch of men get erections while they were posing. It just means you're a healthy young man."

"Yeah but... you're... you're..."

"I'm your mother?" she smiled. "Is that what you're trying to say? Are you ashamed because I made you stiff as a board?"

"God, this is embarrassing."

"I like that we're being honest."

"I'm sure you do."

She paused and thought for a moment. "Look, I haven't been totally honest with you. Remember I said that I'm going to be writing a short story for a compilation book? I've told you it's an erotic story, and it is. But I didn't tell you what kind of erotic story it is."

"I didn't even know that there are differences."

"There are. I was asked to write a taboo story, and I accepted the offer. Do you know what taboo refers to, in today's porn world? I'm sure you do. It's all over the internet now. Mainstream porn too."

"It means incest," he answered.

She shrugged. "Yep. So I've been working on that lately. I've turned into a taboo writer, sadly. But I'll be using a pseudonym for that, so we'll be spared the shame of it."

Andrea noticed a strange reaction from her son. He didn't freak out, but he seemed way too interested.

"How's it coming along?" he asked.

"Better than I expected," she slightly nodded. "It took some time getting used to. But when we hugged, the feelings came through and I knew exactly how to write it."

"You were actually aroused?" he asked bluntly, before immediately regretting it.

Her eyes sharpened. "It's part of my job. I try to inhabit the minds of my characters so I can properly write their feelings."

"I could tell. You were poking out hard, it nearly ripped your tshirt."

She looked thoroughly mortified. "It was that noticeable?"

"They were pretty big."

She shrugged at the notion of her big nipples. "Family genes in the female department. We shouldn't be talking about this."