Mother's Intuition

I can't take my eyes off of him. More and more I find myself stealing glances at him, sometimes hiding behind curtains or while at the pool, peering over the top of a book I pretend to read. He's just so gorgeous. Six-foot one, 210lbs. A swimmers build with the broad muscular shoulders and well-defined, powerful triceps. Tapering down to a slim waist and cobbled abdomen.

Doing his swim training he is shirtless, and every muscle and tendon ripples with his slightest exertion. Those long, thick legs are tanned and toned. The quads and calfs flex with each stride. He wears only the briefest of Speedos with no suggestion of modesty, his package obvious even when he's alone and working-out. On the pool deck, the sun catches beads of water on his golden body and gives an appearance of an aura. He is the prototypical tall dark and handsome.

I'm always tempted to step up with a cool pitcher of lemonade, (maybe it should be beer,) or warm towels or sunscreen. Anything to draw nearer to him and let him see that I'm interested. Is it so wrong to find an eighteen year old to be so sexy, even if I'm almost twice his age- and his mother!?

I had him young. I was only sixteen when I got pregnant at my first drinking party. There was too much alcohol and too many boys to even pinpoint the father, and nobody stepped-up to volunteer. My foster parents gave up on me and from that day on it was just him and me. Our bond was always deeper than just mother/son. Atleast to me. He was my world and I was his protector. Now I find my body reacting to his touch or smile in an unseemly, erotic manner.

I daydream when he's sitting across from me. My hand lingers when we exchange any item. I listen at his bedroom door, and leave mine ajar when dressing. I'm slipping into a strange, slightly perverted, loss of self-control. I truly believe that I want to have sex with him and more than that, I want him to be the aggressor.

I feel like if he were to make a move on me or better yet, to force himself on me; I could more easily mollify the incest taboo and that worst possible disregard of the maternal bond. I can let myself "give-in" if it seems like he is "taking" me.

For months now, I masturbate day and night, sometimes when we are separated by only one thin wall. I imagine him forcing himself on me, or tying me down, or sometimes, blackmailing me to pleasure him in all my slutty, "motherly" ways. I am tormented by inner demons. I will always be his Mom. But I want him to see me as a sexual obsession, as he is for me.

I wear my pitch-black hair long and full like the women whose posters adorn his wall. My 34Cs are natural and still well-rounded for my age and my skimpy outfits are meant for his eyes. When at the pool with him, I wear bikinis and sheer cover-ups, and I have joined him in weight training and Isometrics. This keeps me close to him while we both sweat in short, tight outfits and serves as additional inspiration to keep my own body in good shape. I pedal about fifty miles a day on a stationary bike and can knock-out 100 sit-ups in two minutes. I also bench press and leg press to tighten things from top to bottom. And I usually wear heels, to give my butt that certain jiggle that all men notice.

My son A.J. has inherited his mother's dark hair and cobalt eyes. His lean frame has about 4% body fat. Those strong shoulders roll like a big cat's. And his deep chest is solid and thick when I playfully thump my hand against him. And at times when I pretend to shiver or feel cold, his sinewy arms wrap me like a strong, sexy blanket. I want him and I need him.

One day I was watching and waiting at the kitchen door when he climbed out of the pool. I scampered outside and sat down on the chaise just as he did and began to towel him off. I briskly rubbed his crew-cut hair and gently dried and caressed his back and arms, taking extra time to allow my big tits to brush against him. Then I wrap my arms around his warm, tight body, all the while whispering how strong and attractive he is. I love how the shadows play on his muscular back and the thin stream of water runs down the small of his back. I'm trying to keep a mother's tone but dropping sexual innuendos that anyone would notice.

He doesn't respond in any overt way; but he leans back against my chest flattening my perky nipples and playfully squeezes and rubs my thighs while his breathing grows deeper and quicker. Does he feel it too? Does he want it?

I feel my insides start to shake and my pussy getting warm and tingly. My fingers trembled on his skin and my heart rate raced. I couldn't do it. I had to run before I completely embarrassed and humiliated myself. With just a fast word about leaving boiling water on the stove, I dashed into the house and ducked into an icy cold shower. I had to come to grips with this dilemma.

With my head under the spray, my thinking cleared but the vision remained. I know it's incest. I know it's the taboo that all mothers fear. And I know all about Oedipus. But how do you stop that warm, misty feeling that starts so deep inside and threatens to overwhelm your senses? I turned on the hot water and plugged the drain. Soon I was soaking in the warm tub, my legs spread and one hand working feverishly on my clitoris while the other rubbed and tugged at my nipples. "A.J. if you only knew how close I came to sucking your cock and begging you to fuck me."

My orgasms were so thunderous I was afraid he would hear me moaning or feel the walls shaking. I was in there for well over an hour and when I passed him in the hall, it must have been obvious that I did not just have a relaxing bath. Thank goodness, he said he was going out. I hopped into my bed and recreated the entire scenario. I can't stop toying with my clit or quit imagining myself a slave to his desires. I want him to take me and I'm beginning to think I can no longer fight this sensation. "How slutty can I possibly be?" If given the opportunity I believe I may do something crazy. Could I really give in to these deviant dreams?

He came home from a practice meet once walking on crutches with an athletic bandage taped from his ankle to his thigh. A trainer termed it a severe muscle-pull and suggested bed-rest with heat and massage. My instincts kicked-in. I prepared soup and hot tea so he could take his pain killers and muscle relaxers. Then I unwrapped the rubberized bandage and applied a warming balm and gently kneaded his sore muscles. He moaned dreamily while his body loosened and his eyes drifted shut. He fell asleep with me rubbing his steely thighs and feeling the warmth of this potent, young force. A tempest was brewing from down deep.

I brushed his short spikey hair with my fingers and trailed my painted nails down his clean shaven chest, pausing to slowly finger the solid set of abdominals leading towards his grey, flannel gym shorts. The loose fitting trunks gave me a clandestine view of his limp cock laying languidly on his upper leg and peeking out from the bottom of his shorts. It was like an unblinking eye seeing right through me.

I was surprised to see that he had shaved his pubes and I noticed that his underarms were also bare. It was off season, I guess that is why he had any hair at all on his head and legs. I was drawn again to his penis. Appearing like a coiled snake in it's den. My pulse climbed and a fine sweat broke out all over me, cold droplets oozing down my neck, and trickling into my cleavage. I wanted him to rest but I was so tempted to reach into the leg of his shorts and just touch it once. My nerves were on edge.

My nipples perked up and my breathing became erratic. My hand was shaking so badly I was afraid to move any closer for fear of startling him. The idea that I was so close to that young, virile cock, was sending tingling sparks straight to my crotch. If I could not be certain about what to do with A.J.s cock, I definitely knew what to do with my throbbing pussy.

I hustled out of his room and into mine. I was undressed before I hit the sheets and it did not take long until my sopping wet gash erupted with pleasure. The spasms racked my body while the image of my son licking and fucking my hot cunt was driving me to delirium. I continued to rub the pink nub poking from it's swollen hood. The orgasms that swept over me only alerted my demented brain that I wanted more. The flat of my hand rubbed roughly over my fleshy clit. My pussy was soaked with my juices and my entire vagina was radiating heat. I was not satisfying myself, only straining at the temptation I felt.

It seemed like chains were breaking loose and my yearning, struggling body was inches away from freedom. I don't remember even opening the door but there I was; sitting on the edge of my son's bed, completely naked, drenched in nervous sweat and feeling so horny and ravenous, I must reek of it.

A.J. had fallen into a heavy slumber. Only grey cotton shorts covered this Adonis. A few ounces of material between me and heaven-- or hell. My thinking was taken over by my urges. My breath caught in my throat and a jolt of electricity charged through me as my hands began to glide up his golden, solid thighs and reach for his groin.

I stole a quick look at his peaceful expression almost hoping for his reassurance. My right hand softly cradled his limp cock, my fingers pressing an easy caress up and down his fleshy shaft. The fingers of my left hand, moistened by my tongue, started to twirl around his small nipples and trace light, tight circles around his pectoral muscles.

My legs straddled his, and my slinky body commenced to slowly hump along the entire length of his lower half. The wetness dripping from my snatch lubricated my ride. My pelvis ground against him as I slid up to his waist and then pushed myself back down to his ankles. I kissed and licked his long legs, tasting the faint scent of my own secretions as I hungrily lapped up this sweet sensation.

With my eyes closed, I was experiencing his torso with my mouth, fingers and nose. I wanted so much to enjoy this but even more, I hoped he would find it truly pleasurable, too. The nagging torment that he would awaken thunderstruck was still nagging at me. He could possibly be repulsed by me and easily decide to never want to see me again. If I were thinking straight, (or at all,) I would have run from the room; content with my little victory and secure that my taboo secret would forever be hidden. I could keep this memory within me and only use it in the privacy of my room. He is so exciting: his body, firm and smoldering below the surface, yet smooth and supple as I play along it's length.

I leave a trail of sloppy, wet kisses along his upper torso and sweaty, moist dew where I sit on him. My hand explores his chiseled face starting at his temple and then through his jawline and dimpled chin, then dances down the deltoids and biceps of his strong arms. I'm awash in this sensation of a powerful beast, lingering at the edge of restfulness and stretching his tendons to arise and capture his prey.

I sense suddenly that his long tool has flexed to life under my ministrations, and my hand now strains to contain it. Light droplets of cum form at the tip and serve to smooth my stroke as I let it slide up and down my sweaty palm. The purplish head surprises me. It is not a bulbous, mushroom shape like some I've seen. It's more tapered and rounded like the crown of a bowling pin, though impossibly thick. My fingers barely touch and the shaft must be ten inches to it's shaven base. His balls have now filled out. They perch like plums, full and plump, my fingertips tease them as my hand continues it's pistoning motion, bringing this enormous cock to it's gigantic dimensions.

I hear him murmur and groan under his breath as I check to see that he is still asleep. His exhalations are coming quicker and deeper and his body squirms and writhes on the bed. I only wish I knew what he was dreaming about.

I've fully freed his cock from the confining leg of his shorts and my head rests delicately on his abdomen. His mammoth tool is fully erect at this time and pointing skyward. My hand slides repeatedly up it's length, pausing at the tip to thumb a few precious drops from the opening, and watch the oily film seeping down the rigid column. I am utterly mesmerized by it's shiny smoothness and firmness.

I hear a small gasp escape his lips when I close my fingers more firmly around him. I discern the heat from his body, smell the musky scent and listen to the rapid, husky breathing. I inch closer, my lips open hungrily. That veiny pole, a sharp purplish red, was beckoning me to it.

I kissed it once or twice at the base, my fingers sliding free to allow my tongue to lick a slow, sloppy path up to the top. I pause to lick around the ridge of the cap and swirl my snaky tongue over the head so I can savor the salty discharge.

I felt the warm softness of the helmet and I curiously draw in a taste of his nectar. I suck in a little harder and feel the big tool slide in, it's flavor coating my tongue. Another low moan from his lips spurred me on. I could taste his sweetness and feel it swelling in my mouth. I knew it was wrong, but from this point there would be no stopping.

My mouth engulfed him. My cheeks expanded and my tongue lashed him from top to bottom. I relaxed my jaw and opened my throat to accept as much as possible. With both hands, I reached beneath him to grasp his firm buttocks. I kneaded those cheeks and strained to draw him into me like a vacuum.

He grew impossibly large and went in deeper. Slowly, incredibly, my mouth widened in disbelief, forming a perfect "O" around his shaft and lubricating it's glistening span. It was bliss. I inhaled him. My mouth worked like a steam engine, rapidly sucking in and out, my saliva coating his cock and pooling in a sloppy puddle at his balls. I was in a trance.

After about five steady minutes of sucking that wonderful cock, I realized that his long fingers had been combing through my lush mane and his strong hand was forcing the back of my head further down onto his engorged rod. He was awake! Though my head was held in place by his strong hands, I lifted my eyes and caught sight of his wide, bright blue orbs. At that instant he thrust his pelvis up and drove his stiff meat against the back of my throat. The pumping started and the flood began. He shot spurt after milky spurt in my mouth. I swallowed simply to be able to breathe and he continued to fill me. "Take it Mom, Suck my dick!"

I was aghast. His thick, gooey cum was oozing from my lips and dripping down my cheeks as I came to the understanding that he was awake, aware and enjoying having his mother suck his cock. I looked up in complete shock and released myself from his iron grip. I rose to my knees in a state of total confusion. I moved to cover my exposed tits only to find that they were painted with his sticky seed. Long, stringy vines of semen hung from my chin, the ends dropping to the crest of my globes. I was mortified and looked a total slut.

I felt that I should apologize or make excuses or maybe, simply run from the room. I was caught entirely off guard. But his long arms reached out for me. He took me by the waist and effortlessly lifted me onto his lap, impaling me on his still granite-hard penis. My pussy was already soaked and he drove in easily. My ass settled down onto his balls and he commenced a regular, powerful, thrusting action that set my cunt on fire. "Mom I'm going to fuck you for the rest of the night. Infact I'm going to fuck you for the rest of the summer."

My Gawd, I've achieved Nirvana. I moaned and screamed like an alley cat. My head fell back, long sweaty hair flying. My back arched, pushing my cum-covered tits right at his face. And my hot, horny snatch exploded with sweet, creamy juices. My son is fucking me! And he wants to fuck me forever. My body convulsed and I broke out in a fine sheen. My pussy ground hard against him to the squishy sounds of sticky balls slapping a sweaty ass and me yelling, "fuck me hard, drive that big cock into me!"

My gaping gash took all that he could pound into me. It started slow, but in just seconds, he was pushing me off the bed and into the air, repeatedly driving in up to his sack and pulling out almost to the tip. The spasms rocked me. I came continuously. More orgasms in ten minutes than I could ever imagine. His semen was flooding out of me, I don't know how many times he squirted, but I was filled to capacity.

As we calmed down alittle, I felt his warm hands run from my thighs where he had been controlling me up to my ribcage, then he moved to my heaving tits. He cupped them both and gently squeezed and fondled them. Then he rolled my nipples between his fingers and fed them lovingly to his mouth. He presented his sticky digits to my lips for me to suckle and lick the cum from them.

My limp carcass collapsed on top of him, forming a sweating, heaving mass of sexuality. I heard him chuckle abit and could perceive his belly shake, but I was still too embarrassed to meet his gaze and ask what amused him. "This feels so good, Mom. You don't know how long I've been fighting the urge to rip your clothes off and rape you. I thought you would think I was perverted or crazy." As he spoke, one hand started a smooth progression down my spine to playfully grab and spank a soft rhythm on my ass. I squirmed in delight, moaning and kissing his chest and neck, but never mentioning my own thoughts on the subject. But I guided my hand to his loins and corralled his sleek, rigid cock. Assuring him in no uncertain terms that I was his for the taking.

His hand continued to roam and I let him. My legs parted subtly but obviously, allowing his fingers to tickle the forbidden, puckered opening of my backside. I laid still, gripping his shoulders and tonguing his nipples. But my ass shimmied enough to give him the information and present the invitation that he could explore me at his leisure. It was time to gather my courage and acknowledge it. I looked up at his brilliant blue eyes and softly kissed and bit at his full lips. I eased back up to a sitting position, feeding his sturdy rod into my waiting pussy. With his fingers working steadily inside my ass, he plunged his gigantic cock far further into my steamy cunt.

I bucked and jumped. Moaning like a whore. Calling for A.J. to fuck me and use me in any way he pleased. I screamed that I was his. "Take me A.J. Fuck me deeper. I want you inside me. Fuck my cunt, my mouth and my ass. I want to taste you and feel you forever. Don't be shy with me. I belong to you now."

This was finally happening and I wanted him to be sure that he understood. I would be his total and absolute slave. I gave myself to my son. There was nothing more I wanted and I was so thrilled to see the big grin spread across his face after he blasted another tremendous load of his hot seed against the welcoming walls of my vagina. He answered me with a litany of sexy, lewd ideas of how he intended to use my body. And I was fine with all of them.

His head settled back on the pillow, his body for the moment, spent. My quivering subsided and my trembling arms propped on his chest for support. A stillness hung over the room. I was sated and exhausted. And I discerned a quizzical look behind his contented smile.

"Mom, I don't get it, how did you know?"

"Because I'm your mother."

THE END.