Loveless Nights Ch. 01

She did not mind Richard's absence. The knowledge of his betrayal had made her much less concerned with his affection towards her. She would choose now to devote her love and attention towards Michael, whom she knew would not betray her, and would not ignore her with contempt. She though of Richard, and his joy at arriving home to see her, wondering if it really was joy, or if it was all an act. If he was really that glad to be home, why was he so eager when she suggested he leave again? And why would he be so callous to cheat on her? The fact that he did not confess, in her mind, was indicative that he could be planning to see his whore mistress again.

***

The day of the party had arrived, it was evening at Helen and Michael were getting ready. Helen was in the shower, thinking of the hours to come ahead. She was hoping she would get the opportunity to dance with her son, she had never danced with him before. She thought he probably didn't know how to, but she could teach him tonight. She wanted to teach him how to be act more like a sophisticated and distinguished man, how to speak with authority and confidence like his father did. She wanted to teach him how to behave suave and courteously, so he could one day attract a nice woman who could become her daughter-in-law.

Helen finished washing up, and stepped out of the shower. She dried herself off and wrapped a towel around her body, and another around her hair.

She walked out of the bedroom and into the corridor, calling down the stairs to Michael.

"Honey, how ready are you?"

"Um, what do you mean, mum?" shouted Michael from the living room. She knew he was still watching TV.

"Hurry up, have a shower and get changed into the clothes I've bought you!"

"Will do, mum"

"Michael, do it now, not much time left! We don't want to be late."

Michael begrudgingly sighed and came walking up the stairs. He saw his mother in the towel, and while it wasn't anything particularly special that he hadn't seen before, being a shy boy he blushed and looked away as we walked towards his room.

Helen noticed this, and rolled her eyes sighing. He went to a separate bathroom to have a shower than the one she had showered in; it was closer to his bedroom, rather than adjacent to hers. He walked into the bathroom and closed the door; soon Helen heard the shower tap running.

Still in her towel, she took out the clothes she had bought for Michael, a nice set of dress shirt and dress pants, and laid them out neatly on his bed so he would see them when he walks into his room coming out of the shower. Helen returned back to her bedroom and began preparing herself.

***

Michael was washing himself in the shower. He had had kind of a difficult day, and was looking forward for the opportunity to relax, and hopefully have fun. He wasn't sure how much fun he'd be able to have, at a boring function filled with boring old people obsessed with work.

Michael thoroughly washed himself, hoping to appear clean and nice for his mother. He stepped out of the shower, and dried himself off with a towel. He then stepped into his bedroom naked, and searched his drawers for underwear. He noticed on his bed, his mother had laid him the clothes she had bought for him; an elegant long sleeved white dress shirt, and black dress pants.

He put on the clothes and admired himself in the mirror, thinking he actually looked quite handsome with them one. He did up to top button and proceeded to comb his hair, before exiting the bedroom and descending down the stairs.

His mother was awaiting him at the bottom of the stairs. Michael took a step back when he saw Helen; he had always known his mother was beautiful, but today she looked exceptionally so.

Helen was wearing a long blue silk dress, and her hair was done and tied up. She had clearly put on make up, although she had not overdone it, and her eyes and lips look radiant, Michael thought. Helen stood up, displaying her full frame, and she walked up to Michael in her high heels.

"You look gorgeous, Michael," she said with a bright smile.

"Um, thanks mum, you look amazing!" Michael responded.

His mother smiled at him, then kissed him on the cheek, and they walked outside to the car.

***

Helen and Michael were sitting at a table with some of Helen's colleagues. Helen's boss approached their table.

"My, my Helen, you look stunning. Is this handsome lad here your son?"

"Yes he is, John. Michael, this is John, I've told you about him before," Helen said.

"Hello," said Michael, nodding at John, Helen's boss.

"Hello, young man," responded John, "don't you think your mother looks glorious tonight?" he said laughing.

Michael blushed, and shyly nodded without responding in words.

Helen laughed, "Oh, he's just a little shy, he gets like that sometimes."

John laughed, as he walked off to mingle with others in the crowd.

"Are you enjoying yourself Michael?" Helen said to her son, "you seem a little bored."

"Yeah, I'm fine," sighed Michael, poorly hiding his boredom.

One of Helen's female co-workers sitting besides Michael turned to him, "Mike, you know there will be dancing shortly. Do you know how to dance?" she said with a laugh.

"What?" said Michael turning to Helen, "you didn't tell me I have to dance tonight. I don't know the least about that."

"Oh dear, don't worry," responded Helen, "you don't have to if you don't want to."

Michael thought for a moment, he knew he was here for his mother, and he did not want to disappoint.

"No, no, I do want to. I think that would be nice," he said with a smile.

"Oh, isn't he the greatest boy?" Helen's friend said to her, laughing.

When the time for dancing came, everyone stood up and gathered in the centre in pairs. Michael took Helen's hand, and as they began playing slow, evening music, Helen guided her son in the steps. Michael caught on quickly, and slowly but surely, learnt how to keep pace.

Michael had one hand on his mother's hand lifted, and the other was on her lower back, whereas Helen had her other hand on Michael's shoulder.

"Well done Michael, you're doing very good."

The music playing in the background, Michael felt very safe and relaxed in the presence of his mother. He was very close to her, and could smell her perfume. He did not say anything but he liked the smell. Without realising, he found himself somewhat admiring Helen's body and physique. Her face was beautiful and astonishing up close, her eyes were gazing deep into his; he blushed as he realised he was staring into his mother's eyes.

Helen realised this and smiled, but continued dancing. She saw Michael's gaze turn downwards away from her face. She was worried he might not be feeling comfortable, that she might have forced him into a spot he did not really want to be in. She considered stopping the dance, but something made her keep on going; she had the intrinsic feeling that Michael too was enjoying this.

Michael looked down and admired Helen's stunning dress. It was tight, and accentuated her curvaceous body, though Michael hated himself for realising this. Though he did not want to think it, he also realised the dress was showing a particularly daring amount of cleavage. While he had seen his mother in bathers on a few occasions in the past, he had never been this up close to such a sight on her before. He found his breathing getting heavier and deeper, as his nerves began to build. He found it hard to ignore the strange sensation of lust that was building up deep within him, inflamed by the fires of his mother's warm and striking body inches away from him.

"Michael, dear, are you okay? You don't seem to well."

"I'm fine mum, just a bit tired."

"Oh honey, would you like to sit down for a bit?"

"Okay, maybe thats a good idea. I'm not that good at dancing anyway."

They sat down back at their table.

"Michael, I think you were doing very well," Helen said to her son, smiling.

"Mum, you're just saying that."

"No really, I think I saw some of the other couples even watching you."

"Heh, really?" said Michael snickering, not really buying into it.

"I've prepared something nice for you when you get home, dear."

"Oh really, mum?" said Michael, a smile rising, somewhat excited.

"Yep, honey. I prepared a special meal for you. We can eat it together when we go home."

"Really mum? You didn't have to, I mean there's no particular occasion. Dad's not even home."

"Oh we don't need to always wait for your father to be here before we do anything special, do we? Why can't we just enjoy each others company once in a while," Helen smiled again at her son, stroking his upper arm.

"Okay mum, that sounds great, thanks!"

Another one of Helen's friends walked up to her with her husband.

"Helen my love, you and your dashing son are such a sight on the dance floor," she said, ruffling Michael's hair.

"My boy," replied Helen, "isn't he something?"

Helen stared at Michael, who was gazing down at his lap. She really was proud of him, even though he had all the physical features that had attracted her so much to his father, his personality was different, she though. Michael wouldn't betray her, Michael wouldn't abandon her. She knew Michael loved her truly, and would always treat her with respect and love.

***

Helen and Michael arrived home, and as Helen had promised, she had prepared a special dinner for him. She prepared on the dining table an extravagant roast dinner. Michael and Helen sat down opposite from each other, and began eating.

Helen brought out a bottle of red wine, and poured out a glass for Michael and herself. She took a sip of the glass, leaving a red lipstick imprint on the glass.

"Michael, do you like the wine?" she asked inquisitively.

Michael took a sip, "yeah mum! It's great." He took another sip, and another.

Helen smiled, and continued drinking.

"You danced beautifully tonight, dear."

"Thanks mum, I was trying to impress you."

Helen laughed "Impress me? Oh dear, you're my son, you don't need to impress me."

Helen was surprised by Michael's level of maturity, how he was suddenly able to step up and take responsibility, acting like a grown adult in mature situations, as he had displayed himself today.

"So Michael, how come you never talk to me about your studies?"

"I don't know, you never really ask," replied Michael, unsure.

"Well, tell me now. I'm really interested in how you're finding your first year, if you really have set out a path for what you want in life."

"Uh, I don't really know yet mum, I guess I just hope to finish my degree, and find a job eventually?"

"And get married too. Don't forget Michael, family is more important than having a job. Make sure you find love and happiness above all," Helen said to her son.

"Don't worry mum, I'm sure I will one day."

"Do you have a girlfriend Michael?" Helen took another gulp of wine.

The question startled him, he had never been asked personal questions by his mother before, let alone this. He was unready.

"No, not really," Michael was starting to feel tired and uncomfortable, he wondered if it was the wine. Or perhaps the wine would help him relax; he took another sip.

"Michael, if you ever need any advice on girls, or women, don't hesitate to come to your mother, alright?"

"Yeah, I know."

Helen paused, she wasn't sure what was coming over her. She wasn't normally so open with her questions and dialogues, particularly towards her innocent son. She wondered if the wine was doing this to her, or if was just the pretext she needed to act this way like she had always wanted to?

"Michael, have you had sex with a girl?"

Michael nearly choked on his food. His face turned red in a second, his eyes engorged.

"Mum, you should stop drinking!" he said, in a poor attempt to sound stern.

"Honey, please don't talk to your mother like that. Its natural for a mother to be concerned and ask such questions about her son. I'm worried about your health and safety, you know that."

"I know mum, I just... its such a weird question," Michael found himself sweating, he began gulping more wine, and found his mind became more blurry and difficult to concentrate.

A moment passed.

"So Michael, have you?" his mother was speaking in such a business like tone, as if discussing any casual topic. She took another heavy gulp, leaving another lipstick smudge on the glass.

"No."

"Michael, I know you're not gay. You think I don't notice you looking at girls?"

Michael blushed strongly, "I..."

"Oh don't worry, I'm not mad or anything," Helen laughed, "I think its cute, and its perfectly normal for a boy your age."

She refilled the wine bottle.

Helen's mind was telling her to stop. Her mind was asking her what she thought she was doing. This was her son, she had never spoken to him about these things before.

On the other hand, Helen felt greatly relieved asking her son these questions, almost as if she'd always held herself back from asking. She appreciated being able to talk with her son frankly and openly over matters she could talk with her girlfriends about. She refilled both their glasses.

"I've seen you stare at Cat, Michael."

"Catherine!? No way, mum. Why would you say that?"

Helen giggled, "You think you can hide that from me? Its okay, I would expect it. Cat takes very good care of her looks, she's a very pretty lady. I envy her sometimes, I wish I knew what her secret was."

"She's not as beautiful as you, mum."

Helen was taken aback.

"You think I'm beautiful, honey?"

"Of course mum, everybody knows it. All my friends always tell me that; I mean I don't want to be rude or anything, but I think so to."

"Honey, you're too kind, but I think you think too highly of me sometimes."

"No way, you should have seen some of the guys today, and the women too, they were all admiring you. You were by far the most beautiful woman out there tonight. I could even see your boss eyeing you when you weren't looking."

Helen laughed.

"Oh dear, I saw that too. I've seen it before as well."

Helen paused and looked down at her plate, "I could see you looking at me too when we were dancing?"

Michael's face turned red, but he hid well the tremble from his voice, "Yeah we were dancing, I was trying to keep coordinated. There's no way I'd look at you like that, you're my mum..."

Helen felt like she was making her son uncomfortable.

"Did you enjoy the dance, dear?"

"Yeah it was good."

Helen stood up and walked over to Michael.

"Would you like to practice some more now?" the tipsiness was apparent in the way she walked.

"I dunno, mum, you seem kinda tipsy; me too actually."

"Come on Michael," she stretched out her hand and Michael took it.

They began dancing slowly, just as they had at the party earlier.

Except this time Michael felt his body much closer to Helen's, and he felt the way she was moving was much more seductive. Helen put her arm around his back and held him close.

"You're so wonderful, Michael."

Michael didn't say anything.

Helen wondered to herself what she was doing. She kept denying she was being sexual with her son, her own son for God's sake. She could not get her mind of sex, with Michael's hands touching her bare skin. She felt so wrong thinking about this with her own son, wondering if he had any clue.

She had no idea what had brought about this sudden impulse. It had been months since she'd received any sexual satisfaction at all, her only source being Richard who could not be more disinterested in her. She wondered if she was hurting her son if she were to go any further with this, she knew it was something she would never do sober. She could stop now, she thought. She didn't have to go all the way. She could head to bed, and they could both forget all about this.

As the danced, Helen kissed her son on the cheek and stroked and curled his hair with her finger. She rubbed her cheek gently passed his, and closed her eyes as they danced. She could feel the fire coming up in her, she didn't want to control it, she wanted to let it loose. It was arising from deep in her womb, and she wanted to let it out. It was the culmination of an age of frustration, and she knew her boy was a man and a boy no longer.

Michael felt his mother's kiss, He could feel the way she moved her hands around him. He could see her cleavage, and the breasts inside her dress almost about to pop out, and pressing against his own chest. He felt Helen's legs stroke past his.

He could not help himself, he felt an erection arise in his pants. As he danced closer to Helen, it was pressing into her dress, and he knew she could feel it. He had been a virgin all his life, but he had never not been interested in sex. His whole life he had waited for the perfect moment, and now he felt his body screaming for it. His own mother, the woman he had admired for his entire life more than any girl at his school or college, was now within his arms. This elegant godess, he thought.

Helen kissed her son on the ear, and whispered to him, "honey, I think its time to go to bed."

Michael was somewhat disappointed, thinking it was over. His fantasy and desires which he had always hated himself for were not about to come to realisation after all, but he wondered if it was all for the best.

Then Helen backed away and grinned at him with the cheeky grin of a devil. She grabbed his hand and led him up the stairs by his hand, Michael following in the rear, part of him eager, the other part utterly confused.

Helen took her son to her master bedroom, and laid him on the bed on his back.

Without saying a word she climbed on top of him on the bed, and began straddling him. She bent down and kissed him on the neck several times, and then all over his face and lips. Leaving a plethora of lipstick marks.

Helen then leaned back up, and smiled at her son, panting heavily as she rocked back and forth gently, all their clothes still on. She could feel the tender taste of her beloved son's lips on her own, and the taste of his skin too.

She began undoing his shirt, and then flung it off him. Michael lay their shirtless looking eagerly up at Helen, awaiting her next move with his arms still by his sides. Helen grabbed his hands and put them on her hips, moving them up and down. She began kissing her son over his neck, chest, nipple, and belly, leaving even more lipstick everywhere over him.

At this point she could feel his erection raging hard. Michael was moving his hands up and down her hips, from her thighs up to her armpits. She could feel the boner inside his pants pressing against her pubic area. She lifted her dress up, exposing her belly and panties. Michael saw her panties were soaking wet, and she began grinding harder and harder against her son.

She pushed harder and further, then bent back down, and grabbed her son's face and passionately kissed him, her hips now swinging back in forth in a rhythmic motion. The momentum reached higher and higher levels. They could feel their genitals pressing against each others and stimulating each other; Helen could feel the lips of her vagina wrapping around Michael's shaft, despite the layers of fabric between them. The intense feeling of the rhythmic movement and friction was unbelievable pleasure to her. She could not believe that her own young, sweet, innocent son had such capability to provide her with such an intense pleasure.

Michael could feel the pressure building inside him, and he could hold no longer; his mother's fluids were already seeping through her panties and onto his pants. He suddenly exploded in his pants, and could feel jet stream after stream shoot out into his pants, and then leak through onto his mother's panties.

Michael lay there heaving in immense pleasure and euphoria, feeling like his hips were going to collapse in and his ribs would burst. He was not entirely sure what just happened, or what will happen, but he did not care, he knew for the moment that he was in bliss.