Mom & Son Sex on Valentine's Day Ch. 01

"Nothing? I know you better than that. What's wrong? Tell me Tommy."

She knew there had to be something wrong for him to be in his room. He's never home. If he's not out driving his Mustang GT with his friends, he's out with Jenny. With her hormones raging and with her always so lonely and horny, she wished he was home with her more often. Not that she'd ever do anything sexual with her son, she wouldn't. Wanting to just spend some quality time with him, maybe she'd play a game or talk to him over a cup of coffee. In the way she enjoyed thinking about having sex with her son while masturbating herself, with her being so lonely, she just enjoyed having him around to keep her company.

"Nothing," he said again and looking as if he was about to cry.

A sensitive boy, so sensitive that she thought he was gay, she's seen him cry before when he didn't make his college, varsity, wrestling team. Surprised that he cried in front of her but the varsity, wrestling team meant a lot to him, and because he had a good heart, he was easily hurt. That was the last time he cried in front of her, which was four, long years ago, was when he was a 19-year-old freshman. After college and putting wrestling behind him, instead of working a 9 to 5 job in the business world, he went with his passion. Always wanting to be a dancer had it not been for his bad knee that he ruined wrestling, he worked in the real world as a choreographer for an off-Broadway show.

All tall, leggy, beautiful women, he met Jenny, Marsha, Rachel, Julie, and Christine when he was auditioning them before hiring them all for the show. Being that he was so sensitive, was always so sensitive, wanted to be a dancer, and worked as a choreographer, she'd think that he was gay if it weren't for all the women in his life. In the way she had sex with so very many different men, she imagined him having sex with so very many different women. Apparently like mother like son, obviously his libido was just as healthy as her libido was back then. Had he not had so very many girlfriends in the way she had a lot of boyfriends so long ago, she knew he wasn't gay. Without him even having to tell her, a mother always knows those things.

"Being that it's Valentine's Day evening and you bought Jenny a card, candy, and flowers, don't you have a date tonight?" She looked at him waiting for him to answer her question and when he didn't, she asked another. "Why are you home Tommy? When I was your age, out with a different man every night, I was never home," she said realizing that when she was his age, she had just given birth to him.

Having all the moves of a dancer, reminiscent of Swan Lake, as if he was a dying swan, he looked at her with sad eyes as if he had been stabbed in the heart. Only it wasn't a sharp blade that hurt him so much. It was his heart felt, hurt emotions. Having been through it before with so very men that she thought she loved and that she thought loved her, unrequited love can hurt just as much as an open wound can.

"You may as well keep the candy and flowers for yourself Mom," he said with sadness. "I'm done with women. I'll never date another woman again for the rest of my life," he said with venom.

Done with women? Broadway must be rubbing off on him, as if he's one of his characters in a play, he's being so dramatic. He's only 23-years-old. How could he possibly be done with women when he's just started to experience women? Most men aren't done with women until they're fucked over a half dozen times, divorced twice, paying child support, and possibly alimony. Maybe he is gay. Or maybe he's smart, smarter than she was when she was his age. Yet, if she was done with men back then in the way that he claims he's done with women now, she never would have gotten pregnant and she never would have given birth to Tommy, the real love of her life.

She walked over to his bed and sat beside him. As soon as she sat down, sudden and undeniable testimony to him not being gay, he sat up to sit next to her. She couldn't help from thinking that maybe he sat up to get a better look at what he thought she'd be showing, being that she was only wearing a bathrobe with nothing else underneath. Perhaps for fodder in the way that she needs images of him to think about when masturbating, maybe he needs images of her to masturbate to too, that is, if he masturbates over her in the way that she masturbates over him.

Feeling a bit jealous, why would her son masturbate over her when he has all of those beautiful women in his life? The reason while she's relegated to pleasuring herself is because she doesn't have anyone to pleasure her sexually. Perhaps filled with too much testosterone in the way that she was filled with too much estrogen so very long ago, maybe he's just as horny as she is and not only is having sex with all of those beautiful woman but also routinely masturbating himself too.

Knowing he does masturbate, having heard him and nearly caught him more than once, she wondered what he thought about when he masturbates. She wondered if he thought about her naked body in the way that she thinks about his naked body when she pleasures herself. She wondered if he thought about her giving him hot sex in the way she thinks of giving him incestuous sex. She wondered if he could ever have sex with his mother in the way she knew she could have sex with her son.

Being that she was sitting so close to him and with just her terrycloth robe keeping her from being naked, she liked thinking that he'd want to see some sexy part of her naked body. Willingly wanting to show him, she didn't dare look down at herself to give herself away for him to know that she knew he was looking and that she was possibly showing. In the way that he was giving her furtive, one-eyed glances, she wondered if she was showing something that he wanted to see.

Perhaps the reason why he sat up on his bed when she sat down on his bed, was because he was hoping to see her naked breasts. Perhaps having a wardrobe malfunction when she sat on his bed, having practice that exhibitionistic move many times before with her blouse or low cut top when in the company of a man, she suspected that her bathrobe might be opened just enough to give him a glimpse of the tops of her breasts and cleavage. Not only did it excite her to know that she may be showing but also it excited her to know that he may be looking.

"Why? Why would you give me the Valentine's Day gifts that you expressly bought for Jenny? I don't understand," she said talking to him in slow, soft sounding voice as if he was a mental patient at the sanatorium. "Besides, you already gave me a Valentine's gift, Shalimar perfume," she said holding her wrist up to him. "Smell. I'm already wearing it. I love the scent."

A total exhibitionist, having made that move in her mirror before, she knew when she made that move with her arm raised and moved forward that she'd be showing him something of her that she shouldn't be showing and that he shouldn't be seeing. When she moved her arm up and forward like that, her bathrobe opened for a brief second and when her son leaned forward to smell her arm, she seemingly inadvertently, albeit deliberately, gave him a full down bathrobe view of her breasts. Nothing that he hasn't seen before, when leaning over him to serve him breakfast while still in her nightgown, no doubt, yet her robe opening so suddenly for her to show so much of her breast surprised even her. Having a hot flash and suddenly horny with the thought of her son wanting her enough to look at what she was showing in a down bathrobe view, she wondered how much of her breast he saw. Feeling her nipples already erecting and hardening, she wondered if he saw her areolas and/or her nipples.

More surprised that he stared at what she was showing, now she definitely knew that he wasn't gay. Glad that she wore her bathrobe instead of a wraparound towel, if he was looking and he was, she could seductively and subtly show him more of her naked body while wearing her bathrobe. Then again, thinking of the pizza delivery man she recently and deliberately flashed, she could show him everything while wearing just a towel too. Only, when it comes to full nudity, with a dropped towel a sledge hammer and an open bathrobe a pry bar, she could never be that blatant in flashing her son. A peek here and a glimpse there, teasing him into looking, subtlety was her best bet if she hoped to seduce her son.

Oh my God, she couldn't believe she was thinking about seducing her son. Sucking and fucking him, her mind was filled with incestuous, sexual thoughts. Being that he was home on Valentine's Day evening, perhaps his girlfriend dumped him. Perhaps she cheated on him and he caught her. A good time to seduce him with his girlfriend obviously dumping him, rebound sex, even with his mother could be the best sex he's ever had. Definitely, any sex, even sex with her son, would be the best sex she's had in a very long time.

Yet, being that she was his mother and he was her son, instead of calling it sex, she'd refer to it as comfort. Imagining taking him to her bed to comfort him while holding him as his hands explored her naked body beneath her bathrobe, she'd make him forget all about Jenny. Notwithstanding his acknowledged sexual preference for women instead of men, she was a bit titillated that her son was looking, staring actually at her partially exposed breasts, especially when he's had such hot girlfriends, all dancers, that she imagined that he was having regular sex with all of them.

* * * * *

"Nice," he said.

Nice? She wondered if he was referring to her perfume or to the size and shape of her breasts. Imagining that he was referring to her breasts, wanting to show him even more of her big tits, she had the urge to be even more careless with her robe. Being that she was alone in his room with him, she wondered what he'd do if he saw her topless and if he saw her breasts. She only wished she had been drinking. Had she had a few drinks, definitely, she'd be parading around him topless or even naked by now.

Nonetheless her sobriety, she wondered if he'd reach out and touch her big breasts and feel her big breasts while fingering her nipples. More importantly, with all of it just a sexual fantasy and nothing more than that, what would she do if he did touch and feel her tits through her bathrobe? Would she allow him to touch her and feel her or would she be compelled to stop him because she was his mother and he was her son? She didn't know and wouldn't know until that happened. Only knowing that something like that would never happen, she'd never have to face the forbidden issue of incestuous sex between mother and son.

"Tell me what's wrong."

Enamored and invigorated by his stare, she looked at him looking at her. Was he thinking the sexual thoughts that she was thinking or was he looking at her in the way that a son looks at his mother? Unable to delineate reality from her imagination sometimes, her hormones and horniness interfered with her perceptions of sometimes realizing factual from fictional. When it came to men, she was always so gullible and trusting, which is why so many men got her naked and in bed. If he was any other man, she'd give him the eye. If he was any other man, she would have made her move to seduce him by now.

"Tell you what? There's nothing to tell mother," he said with a shrug of defiance in taking her in his confidence.

Having been through this before not only with his father but now with her son, both were so stubbornly silent and unforthcoming when confessing their feelings, she rolled her eyes and let out a sigh of exasperation.

"C'mon, I know there's something wrong," she said. "Why aren't you getting ready for your date? It's Valentine's night, the most romantic night of the year."

With Valentine's Day her favorite day next to Christmas, she was never home.

"Date? What date? There is no Valentine's Day date," he said with as much anger as he had sadness.

As if his eyes were lasers and as if lost in his own world, he stared at the impressions her breasts made in her bathrobe. In the way that she imagined he must stare at the impressions that Jenny's, Marsha's, Rachel's, Julie's, and Christine's breasts made in their clothes too, he stared at her tits now. Being that she knew her nipples were erect, she wondered if her big nipples were making their impression through her thick bathrobe. Obviously, a breast man just like his Dad, loving the attention of his inappropriate, sexual stare, he was admiring her breasts in the way that his father always did.

In addition to her shapely ass, she was blessed with big, firm, and symmetrically shaped breasts with big nipples. She loved her breasts and was glad that her son loved her breasts too. It took all the self-control she had not to imagine him touching and feeling her breasts through her robe before sticking his hand inside to feel them, fondle them, and caress while fingering her nipples and before sucking her tits. If only he'd make the first move, she'd take care of all the rest.

"No date? I don't understand. What about the flowers, card, and candy?"

Loving it when men showered so much love, affection, and attention on her, she wished she had some man in her life to buy her flowers, a Valentine's Day card, and candy. She wished she had a man in her life to suck and fuck. Maybe if she had a man to give her hot sex on Valentine's Day, she wouldn't be looking for her son to give her hot sex on Valentine's Day.

"We broke up," he said.

Suspecting they had, somehow she knew they did. Weird that a sense of satisfaction took hold of her, it was as if no woman was good enough for her son but her, his mother. Fighting the urge to cross the line of incest, not allowing that incestuous feeling to take hold of her, she let go of it before her sexual fantasy got out of hand. Unable to stop herself from thinking about her son as her lover, she routinely imagined sucking his cock before she'd imagine him stripping her naked and making love to her.

"Broke up? Why? You just got back together for Christmas," she said looking at her son while growing angry. "Did she just get back together with you just so that you'd buy her Christmas gifts? She seemed like such a nice woman, a good Catholic girl, I didn't peg her for that kind of girl," she said with anger in her voice.

When she looked at him, he looked away and she wondered if he looked away because he didn't want her to catch him staring at her tits. If only he knew that she liked him staring at her tits. It aroused her for him to look at her as if she was a sexy woman instead of his dowdy mother. Having the wicked, uncontrollable urge to flash him her breasts to him again, she wondered what he'd do if she flashed him. Would he continue to make eye contact with her or stare down at her exposed breasts again in the way he did before. Not thinking that the sexual attention would come from her son, it's been a long while since she's had the sexual attention of a man. Even if the man was her son, his concentrated focus on the impressions that her breasts made in her bathrobe made her feel sexy. Feeling like a woman again, it took her son to give her that feeling.

"No, it's nothing like that," he said staring down at the carpet. "It's something else."

Ever since she turned 45-years-old, she's been having hot flashes and sitting next to her son in his room and on his bed while exposing the tops of her big breasts and her long line of cleavage to him, was burning her up with a horny, hormonal fever. Except for the hundreds up skirts of her panties and down blouses of her cleavage and bras that she regularly teases her son with, she hadn't flashed anyone her naked body since the pizza delivery man months ago. When she enjoys parading around Tommy in her flimsy nightgowns.

With him always looking and with her always showing, she always wondered how much of her naked body he could see through the thin material of her nightgown. She knows when she stands by the sink and deliberately dribbles water on her nightgown that she gives him a wet nightgown show. By the leer of her stare, she also knows that when she stands in front of the TV or opens the refrigerator in a darkened kitchen that he can see through her nightgown as if she's naked. Knowing he likes her exhibitionistic shoes, she wished he'd flash her sometimes too.

Maybe if she had a man in her life, she wouldn't be as horny as she is and she wouldn't be exposing her body to her son in the way she does. She hasn't had sex since her husband left her for her younger sister more than three years ago and it had been a while since she had sex even when they were together. After accidentally flashing her son her breast just now, with her mind filled with inappropriate sexual thoughts of her son touching her and feeling her, she was suddenly horny. Wishing she could have an out of body experience to see herself sitting on Tommy's bed, again, she wondered how much of her breast he saw and if he saw her nipple.

"What then? Why did you two break up again? Tell me Tommy," she said.

As if he was her husband when she first met him so very long ago, she looked at him with the sudden urge to kiss him and to make out with him. It's been a long time since she made out with a man. She loved being kissed while being felt up through her clothes. She loved it when a man undressed her while kissing and kissing her. She loved feeling a man's growing cock through his pants while kissing him. She wondered if kissing her son would be anything like kissing her husband, Robert. Bobby was such a good kisser.

A good looking man, and being that she was so attracted to him, she could understand why her sister was attracted to her husband too. Breaking up what she thought was a happy marriage, Kathryn didn't know there was anything wrong and going on until Robert left with her younger sister, Maureen. Water under the bridge now but not forgotten, all was forgiven as far as her sister goes but not forgiven for her husband to want her sister over her. The younger woman versus the older woman, even though Maureen was her sister and they looked a lot alike, she couldn't compete against a younger woman. Not understanding how the two people that she so loved could hurt her like that, he's still a cheating, lying bastard in her eyes.

"It's personal Mom," he said interrupting her thoughts.

A single mother raising her son alone for the past, nearly four years, they were close enough that they shouldn't have any secrets personal or not. She looked at him wondering what could be so personal that a son wouldn't tell his mother and that Tommy wouldn't tell her.

"Personal?" Now he had her curiosity piqued. "There's nothing personal between us. I'm your mother, you can tell me anything," said Kathryn. "With just the two of us taking care of one another, we should have no secrets to hide," she said a little hurt that he'd be keeping secrets from her.

She looked at him while waiting for him to tell her what was wrong.

"I can't. Sorry. Not this," he said. "Anything else Mom but not this. I can't tell you. I just can't. It's too personal."

Now she was even more curious what it was that her son wouldn't tell her. Always enjoying playing sexy, sexual games with men, she decided to play a sexy, sexual game with her son. She looked at him with sex in her eyes and horniness in her heart.

"What if I told you something personal about me?"

He looked at her as if shocked that his mother would have anything personal to tell him.

"Okay," he said. "That might work depending on what it is that you think is personal and what it is that you tell me."

Now he looked at her with as much curiosity as she was looking at him before.

"I'm having hot flashes right now," she said fanning herself by deliberately opening and closing the top of her bathrobe fast. "Especially with today being Valentine's Day and with me sometimes feeling so lonely for male companionship, I've been so very terrible horny lately. I'm horny right now," she said making eye contact with him.