Mother and Son, Ghosts of Christmas

Honestly, with her not having pangs of guilt over her naked exhibitionism until later, it felt so good to be sexually wicked. Something she's been wanting to do since he turned 18-years-old, finally, she was flashing him her naked body. Only, he disappeared for four, long, sexually frustrating years when he went to college out of state. Between his college expenses and her never making enough money as a lowly secretary to save any extra money, just as he couldn't afford to come home for the holidays, she couldn't afford to pay him to come home. With him home now, she had plenty of opportunities to do the sexual things that she's sexually fantasized doing and that she's always wanted to do with her son. Calling her own bluff, this was the first time she's been so sexually blatant with him.

She knew he could see her. She knew he was watching her. She knew she was showing him all that she wanted him to see of her naked body and all that he no doubt wanted to see of her naked body. Instead of going to a stupid office Christmas party, she'd rather stay home and make love to him before fucking him. Only, just a salacious sexual thought, her having an incestuous affair with her son would never happen. It was enough that she was exposing herself to him. Finally, she closed her bedroom door but not before she walked to the door totally naked and called out to him to get his attention.

"I'll be ready in fifteen minutes Daniel," she said.

Waiting for him to turn around to look at her, she was shaking she was so sexually aroused. He turned to look at her and she stood there as if she was a deer caught in headlights. They looked at one another as if they were potential lovers instead of mother and son. Not lifting a hand or an arm to cover her nakedness, she stood there staring at her son in the way he sat there staring at her. When he didn't make a move that she hoped he'd make, and when he didn't come in her room and take her as she imagined he would, she closed her bedroom door as disappointed as she was sexually frustrated.

"Okay Mom," he said turning his head in her direction while staring longer than any son should at his naked mother.

She closed her bedroom door to stand in front of her mirror. Staring at her naked self, she silently talked to herself.

'Oh, my God. I can't believe I did that. I can't believe I exposed my naked body to my son. Daniel saw me naked. He saw my tits, my pussy, and my ass. I can't believe I flashed him my naked body,' she said to herself while getting dressed.

She put on her panties and bra before slipping in her dress. While fixing makeup, she continued silently talking to herself as if there was someone else there with her.

'Maybe tomorrow, Christmas day, when we're watching a movie, hoping he'll take the hint, I'll put his hand on my breasts. Maybe tomorrow, my way of hitting him in the back of the head with a baseball bat to tell him in certain term that I want him, I'll grab his cock through his pajama bottoms.'

While doing her hair, she continued her personal, private conversation.

'Maybe tomorrow, he'll allow me to masturbate him. Maybe tomorrow, he'll allow me to suck him. Maybe tomorrow, he'll cum in my mouth after making love to me.'

* * * * *

With Christine drinking and dancing all night, sexually frustrated after being forced to behave by acting her role as the appropriate mother all night, the one thing she couldn't stop thinking of was flashing her naked body to her son. Just as he didn't say anything about her sudden exhibitionism, she didn't either. Needing to push the envelope, things didn't escalate until Daniel took the car keys from her.

"I'll drive," he said helping her get in the passenger side of the car. "You're too drunk to drive."

Removing her coat, she tossed it in the backseat.

"I'm hot," she said even though it was cold outside. "Merry Christmas," she said turning to face her son.

Something she's been wanting to do since forever, she wrapped her arms around his neck, cemented her body against his, and parting his lips with her tongue. With there no mistaking her sexual intentions, she gave him a long, wet kiss. Playing her part as his incoherent, drunken mother, acting more inebriated than she was, this was her opportunity to seduce her son. Unable to wait until she got him home alone, she was ready to fool around in the car. With her skirt up around her crotch, she made sure she flashed her son her panties when getting in the car. With her wishing she had removed her panties in the ladies room, she only wished she wasn't wearing panties. She wished she was flashing him her pussy instead of only her panties.

She sat in the passenger seat spread legged and when he leaned down to lift her ankles in the car, she gave him quite the up close show between her legs of her shapely thighs and her panties. At one point, his nose was so close to her pussy that she knew he could smell her perfumed powder. She only wished he'd run a finger along her obvious pussy slit and give her an orgasm in the way she wanted to give him one too. She only wished he'd lick her through her panty. She only wished he'd pull out his cock and invite her to touch him, stroke him, and suck him. Ready to suck him right there in the parking lot, she'd suck his cock while she sat there in the car with him standing in front of her by the opened car door.

Not making any attempt to pull her skirt down and sit like a lady, and in the way that any mother should, maybe if she continued flashing him her panties, he'd get the hint and park the car by the side of the road to have sex with his horny, drunken mother. She'd like nothing better than to make out with him while he touched and felt her everywhere a son should never touch and feel his mother. The last time she was this drunk was after Prom night more than twenty years ago when she had sex with a man she never saw again. Oddly enough, 23 years later, she hoped to repeat the cycle but with her son this time.

"Just relax Mom. We'll be home in half an hour. Maybe you should take a nap," he said looking over at her exposed panty while patting her naked thigh.

With her wishing he'd move her hand higher, she was do tempted to take his hand and put it on her panty clad cunt. She so wished he'd touch her and finger her pussy in the way she imagined herself stroking his cock. If only he'd touch her, she'd take it from there. Only not wanting to be the one to initiate incestuous sex, even though she exposed her naked body to him and was sitting there with her legs spread, she needed him to make the first move. Then, when he didn't touch her and feel her, she knew it was all up to her.

"Okay, as long as I can sleep," she said leaning across the seat with her head in her son's lap.

Something she always wanted to do when watching a movie together, she was finally doing now. If only he was wearing his pajama bottoms, she'd be feeling his cock through his pajamas right now. With his flaccid cock so very close to her mouth, if he was naked right now, she'd be stroking him. If he was naked right now, she'd be blowing him. With her so drunk and so horny, if only he'd park the car somewhere private, she'd be fucking him. With her drunkenness her excuse, her going away gift to him, she'd love nothing more than to suck and fuck her son.

Making it appear not as obvious but accidental at first, curious about his reaction to her touching him, it didn't take her very long to touch and feel his penis through his pants. Not telling her to stop and to behave, and not brushing her hand away, seeming he was enjoying her touching his emerging erection through his trousers. She thought about all of the times she masturbated herself while imagining touching her son. She thought of all the times she masturbated herself while imagining stroking her son as he touched and felt her breasts. She thought of all the times she masturbated herself while imagining sucking her son before fucking her son. With them having a 30 minute ride home and with her head already in his lap, maybe she'd give him some sexy, unexpected, impulsive, sexual fun.

* * * * *

During all of those times they cuddled on the couch while watching a movie, she so wanted to touch her son's cock through his pajamas while he felt her breasts and fingered her nipples through her nightgown. Now here it is, her sexual fantasy come true on the pretense that she's drunk, really drunk, when she wasn't that drunk at all. Certainly, she was sober enough to know what she was doing. Moreover, she was plenty sober enough to remember tomorrow all that she did tonight.

As if slowly tracing her nipple or gently rubbing her clit, as if his cock was something invaluable and delicate, and indeed to her it was, first she lightly traced the outline of his cock with her manicured fingertips. Then, teasing him a little more by adding more pressure, she fingered the head of his cock through his pants with her thumb and index finger. With her pretending she was sleeping and touching him in her sleep, with his cock throbbing and pulsating while hardening, if he didn't know her incestuous, sexual intentions before, he certainly knew them now. Yet, it wasn't until she grabbed his growing prick through his pants that he reached his hand down to feel her breasts through her blouse and bra. A long time sexual fantasy come true, she couldn't believe she was groping her son's cock while he groped her breasts.

She couldn't believe they were finally doing this. She couldn't believe she was feeling his cock through his pants while he felt her breasts through her blouse and bra. She couldn't believe that seemingly, he wanted to touch and feel her as much as she wanted to touch and feel him. She couldn't believe he was inappropriately touching and feeling her in the way that she was inappropriately touching and feeling him. Maybe her walking around him naked got to him as much as it got to her. Maybe that unexpected, surprise of a French kiss she gave him when standing outside of the car sexually excited him as much as it sexually excited her.

Instantly her nipples erected and hardened and as soon as they did, he fingered them. It felt so sexually arousing to finger the head of his cock while he fingered her hard, erect nipples. As if her nipples were the secret combination to her sexual arousal, she squirmed with his gentle, sexual touch. She only wished he was sucking her tits while fingering her pussy. With him fingering her nipples through her blouse and bra and her fingering his cock through his pants, obviously they were both sexually aroused.

Just as it didn't take her very long to become wet, it didn't take him very long to become hard. Exposing her long line of cleavage and sexy low cut bra to his horny eyes, she allowed him to unbutton the top few buttons of her blouse. As if she was watching their sexual interaction from afar, she watched him reach his hand inside of her blouse and down her bra to feel her naked breasts while fingering her nipples. It was obvious that he was enjoying touching and feeling her breasts and fingering her nipples as much as she was enjoying touching his cock and feeling his cock. It was obvious that he wanted her as much as she wanted him. With her not saying no to anything that he wanted to do to her body and with him not resisting her motherly albeit sexual touch, and with Burl Ives singing Jingle Bells in the background, Christine brazenly took the next step and unzipped her son.

Thinking that he would, he didn't stop her from unzipping him. Nor did he stop her from reaching her drunken hand inside of his pants. In the way he was feeling her tits through her blouse and bra, she felt his prick grow harder and stiffer through his thin, cotton underwear. The sexual sensation of touching her son and feeling him through his briefs was something she missed doing with a man. It's been a long time since she's felt a man's erection. It's been a long time since she's had a cock in her hand, in her mouth, and in her pussy.

The sexual sensation of him touching her naked breast while fingering her nipples was something that's she's been sexually fantasizing about while masturbating over for years. Not since she divorce her husband years ago has she touched a cock, felt a cock, stroked a cock, sucked a cock, and fucked a cock and here she was touching and feeling her son's big prick. She dated a few men but men only wanted one thing and as soon as they knew she had a child, they were gone. With no man willing to give her a commitment, she was content living alone with her son.

Then, doing what no mother should ever do with her son, while waiting for him to stop her, she unbuckled and unbuttoned his pants. With him the sober one, he could have stopped her but he didn't. With him the sane one, he could have put an end to this but he didn't. Obviously he wanted this as much as she wanted this.

With his cock tenting his briefs, she felt him through his underwear again before she pulled the top of his underwear down to expose the head of his prick to her motherly eyes. She needed to see him before she touched him. Pulling his underwear down further, she stared at his cock before touching his cock. Then, she reached her horny hand inside of his underwear to wrap her fingers around the base of his erection before reaching even lower to cup his testicles. A longtime sexual fantasy, her son's prick was firmly in her hand.

She felt him stop breathing as soon as she felt his cock in her hot hand. Then as if she was grabbing her dildo, she pulled his prick further out of his underwear. Staring at her son's cock first before stroking his big prick, she looked up at him looking down at her. Stroking him slowly before stroking him a little faster, she wanted to take him in her mouth and suck him but she was afraid. Even though she was an incestuous slut and even though she was a wicked whore, she didn't want her son to think she was an incestuous slut and a wicked whore.

If only he knew she wanted to suck him, she wondered if he'd let her. If only he knew she wanted him to cum in her mouth, she wondered what he'd say and if he would. If only he knew she'd swallow his cum, she wondered what he'd do. Would he put a gentle hand to the back of her head while humping her mouth and fucking her face or would he push her away in disgust?

A mother touching her son is one thing but a mother sucking her son is something else entirely. With a hand job an act of motherly love, a blowjob was incestuously wicked. Certainly, if he was incapacitated after an accident, she'd willingly give her son a hand job to remove the sexual tension. It was one thing to masturbate her son but it was something else entirely for her to suck her son, allow him to cum in her mouth, and to swallow his cum.

Feeling that she's gone too far, sensing that he'd reject her, and already guilty that she's ruined the loving mother and son relationship they so enjoyed having, she looked up at him while trying to read him. With her stroking him and him still feeling her tits while fingering her nipples, did he want her to suck him or was this as far as he'd be willing to go? She was his mother after all and he was her son. What they were doing now was forbidden but encouraged by him not stopping her and further encouraged by his obvious erection and sexual excitement, she continued sexually seducing her son. Having gone this far and with him leaving soon and this being now or never, going all the way, she felt him gasp when she took him in her mouth.

* * * * *

Christine couldn't sleep again. Usually not remembering what day it was, she remembered what day it was today. It was Christmas morning. Sometimes forgetting what day, what month, and what year it was, seemingly it was just the Fourth of July not that long ago. She couldn't believe it's already been a year since last Christmas, the worst Christmas she's ever had in her life.

Laying on her back while staring up at the ceiling, she was wide awake while thinking about her son, Daniel. Expecting to see nothing but darkness, she sat up in bed to look out her bedroom window at the night. Instead of seeing nothing but the dark and frightening shadows, as if nature had turned on a nightlight, she was surprised to see that everything was white. She was accustomed to seeing pitch black when she awakened during the night and looked out her window. In addition to there being a big, bright full moon, everything was light and white.

Just as the weatherman correctly predicted, it was snowing. She was excited about the snow. As if whitewashing everything white as Mark Twain did with his character, Tom Sawyer, she loved how temporarily quiet and clean the snow made everything. Something she'd never tell anyone for fear that they'd think her insane, seemingly the deadening weight of the snow was the only thing that stopped the voices she heard in her head.

As if the snow was an insulating blanket blocking out the sounds of the country, everything outside was so stilly quiet. With no birds and no animals out and about, they all knew to seek shelter. After a winter of warmer than seasonable weather, it was going to be a white Christmas after all. Just as Bing Crosby sung in his song, White Christmas, when dreaming of a white Christmas, it doesn't seem like Christmas without snow on the ground.

Only, along with the snow came the cold, that real, bone chilling, bitter cold that made her just want to pull the covers over her head and sleep until the spring. With no one out and about, unless they had to go to work, everyone stayed home on cold, snowy days like these. All last year she walked around her house dressed in her flannel nightgown, flannel robe, and Ugg slippers, while wrapped in a wool blanket.

Even though she liked the snow, as long as there was someone else there to shovel it, Christine hated the cold. The cold reminded her of that freezing night when she was trapped in her totaled car after her son's fatal car crash. She had never been as cold as she was that night while waiting for someone to come rescue her and her dying son.

* * * * *

"Daniel! Daniel! Stay with me. You're going to be all right. Help is coming. Don't worry. The car automatically called 911 and informed them where we are," she said trying to stop him from going into shock.

Only, dying instantly upon impact with the tree, dead already, Daniel didn't answer her. Even more than hating the cold, she hated that howling wind that no matter what she wore to keep herself warm, it was never enough. As if the wind was a wailing ghost, and as if the Angels were crying, the wind was whistling that night. The deep, drifting snow and the cold, along with a grey, cloudless sky, and the howling wind reminded her too much of death and too much of that awful night. She hated the grey, rainy days of November that ushered in the long, cold, days of winter. Needing a drink to stop her hands from shaking, she needed another drink to stop the voices, and still another drink to help her to forget.

Death had been a recent visitor to her door. Even though Christine loved Christmas, with the death of her son last Christmas, on early Christmas day, that was the worst Christmas she could possibly have had. She didn't think she'd ever celebrate another Christmas but only a year later, here she is gingerly ready to greet Santa Claus before ringing in the New Year.

"Ho! Ho! Ho," said the Salvation Army Santa ringing their bells in their requests for money to fill their kettles whenever she went to the mall or to the market.

Her son would have wanted her to get on with her life. If only in memory of him, he would have wanted her to continue to celebrate their favorite holiday. Perhaps, if he was in Heaven, and she believed he was, he'd be looking down upon the Christmas tree that she reluctantly and sadly decorated for him in his honor. With her heart not in it, what normally took her a couple of hours to put up took her three days to finish decorating.