The Zip

I had only gone into the bedroom to change the sheets on Leigh's bed. I found him struggling with the zip fastener on his trousers. He couldn't get it to move.

"Damn thing," he said, "It won't move."

"Let me try," I said, and sitting on the edge of the bed I got him to stand in front of me.

A little piece of the cloth that covered the zip when done up, had caught in the teeth of the zip that had closed for about the first couple of centimetres, then jammed. I endeavoured to pull it down, with no initial success.

I recalled having the same problem one or twice with Josh's trousers when he was alive. I tried to remember what we had done then.

In the course of my manipulating, I had brushed my hand against Leigh's genitals a few times, and I noticed his penis began to harden. I was a little surprised, as I had never considered that he could be aroused by me, his mother.

I was reminded of the times similar things happened with my beloved Josh. Sometimes he would stand I front of me, as Leigh was doing now, his beautiful penis standing up like a tower, and I would fondle it lovingly. It was no moment of titanic passion, I just loved playing with him, and he clearly enjoyed it.

On those occasions I made sure Josh was not left frustrated, so after a while I would began to stroke him until he ejaculated. Josh would say, "Thanks, sweetheart," and stow away his now relaxed sex organ.

As I said, it was no great moment of passion – we had those at other times – it was just a pleasant thing we liked to do just for the fun of it.

Looking up at Leigh as I felt Leigh's young manhood growing, he reminded me so much of Josh. Same tall figure, brown eyes, smiling mouth and he seemed to share Josh's gentle, loving ways.

I gave a final tug on the zip and it slid down to the bottom, and I started to rearrange the piece of cloth that it had caught on.

I could feel that Leigh's penis was now at full stretch, and almost without thinking, I slipped my hand inside his trousers, pulled down the top of his underpants, and exposed his shaft.

I looked up at his face and his eyes seemed to be imploring me. I smiled at him, and began my fondling.

He gave a gasp and spoke one word, "Mother…"

"It's all right, my darling, I'll just make you feel better. Just let me help you." The same words I used with Josh.

It was strange, but even Leigh's penis looked a mirror image of Josh's. About 180 mm long and 60mm in diameter. As a bit of fun, we had measured it once. The crown stood out slightly larger than the shaft, shiny and dripping pre-cum.

I licked up some of the juice, and he gave a groan, then I tenderly felt for his testicles. They felt full and swollen. I knew Leigh had recently broken up with an older woman he had been having sex with.

"He can't have started masturbating yet, " I thought. I remembered how Josh's testicles would begin to ache when they became too loaded, so I started to speed up my manipulation of Leigh.

Within thirty seconds he came, spurting his semen high, some of it splashing against my face. His body jerked at each violent pump of his fluid, and his gasps increased in volume and frequency. It was a lovely moment for me.

He shot more sperm than I could recall Josh ever discharging, but then I always made sure Josh got frequent sex with me, especially as I had my own needs as well.

When he finished, I continued to caress him until I was sure he had completed his orgasm and his penis began to subside. His whole body relaxed, and he whispered, "Thank you, mum."

"That's all right, darling," I replied. "Feel better now?"

"I feel bloody marvelous," he grinned.

I rose and kissed him softly on the lips. "I enjoyed doing it for you. Now you'd better be off, or you'll be late for your lecture."

He left for the bathroom to clean himself up, and using one of the sheets I had come to replace, I gave myself a preliminary clean, and tried to wipe up the sperm that had landed on the carpet.

I gave an inner mischievous smile, as I had often done with Josh, thinking, "We might have put that to better use…still, there's always tonight…"

But this wasn't Josh I had just played with, and there was no "tonight." My smile vanished.

Leigh came back into the bedroom, his zip now operating again, and kissed me goodbye, apparently in no way self-conscious about what had happened.

For the rest of the day, my mind dwelt on my manipulation of Leigh. It had happened as if it were quite normal for me to do it, as it had been with Josh. I think in a way it had been for me as if it was Josh standing there.

This thought led me to contemplation of Josh's death. He had died in a car accident two years before. I had loved him dearly, and our passion for each other never seemed to fade over the seventeen years we had been married. For almost six months after his death, I was devastated. My one consolation was the lovely son we had produced. Leigh was a wonderful consoler during that time, despite having his own grief to deal with.

During that six months sex had not even entered my head, but by the end of that time, it began to make itself known again. I resorted to masturbation to relieve myself, but when you have had the real, flesh and blood contact, and had it with someone you love as much as I loved Josh, masturbation is of very little help.

About twelve months after Josh's death, and keeping knowledge of it well out of Leigh's way, I took a lover. He was some ten years younger than me, and at first things went well. He was virile and kept me satisfied, but then he began to get demanding and turned nasty. I sent him on his way.

I resolved not to try that experiment again, but this resolution did not quench my sexual fires. The trouble was, I was still looking for another Josh, but there seemed to be no such person. No doubt, it was unfair of me to measure men in that way, but that is how it was. So, I went on sexually ungratified.

At times I felt a throbbing ache in my lower abdomen, and got rather sullen. I couldn't have been very nice to live with during those times. Thank God for my patient and loving Leigh.

Perhaps you would like at this point to be told my vital statistics? Sorry, but I'm not going to give them to you. Let's just say, I'm thirty seven and men still bother to turn round and have another look when I pass them.

Leigh came home earlier than usual. He seemed excited, in fact, he seemed to glow.

I was just about to start preparing the evening meal when he said, "No cooking tonight, mum. I'm taking the world's most beautiful woman out to dinner, so put on your best dress, and away we go."

I took this to mean I was being rewarded for my little relief operation that morning, but I didn't want him to do this. He had only his meager student allowance, and a meal out would make heavy inroads into it.

To my protest he replied that "Just for once I want to do something really nice for you, after all you did…" His voice trailed off, and we said no more. I realised that there was going to be as much pleasure in this outing for him as for me.

I set about making myself as nice as possible for him, and put on a dress I had never worn since buying it. I had bought it to please Josh. He loved me to display my legs and the tops of my breasts, and it did plenty of both.

Leigh was astounded when he saw me. "My God, mum, I said you were beautiful, but I didn't realise how beautiful. You look stunning."

I simpered appropriately, complimented him on his appearance, and off we went.

Leigh had booked a table at a very flash restaurant, and it gave me a tremor to think how much this was going to cost him. "I'll have to secretly top up his bank card," I thought.

Surprised that he had chosen such and expensive place, I was even more flabbergasted when we were shown to an alcove with candles glowing on the table.

Leigh ordered wine, and it was the finest Shiraz. The meal that followed was superb. I was reveling in the luxury of it all.

It took nearly to the end of the meal before it struck me, "My God, he's like a lover wooing me." I set that one aside as too fantastic. "Perhaps this morning was a bad error on my part," I thought.

Set it aside I might have done, but when we arrived home, rather relaxed with the wine we had drunk, the thought reemerged. He stopped the car outside the house, turned off the engine, leaned over and kissed me – the full works.

"Don't I get invited in for a nightcap?" he asked with a laugh.

He was playing the full dating game. I decided to play along.

"All right, you can put the car into the garage until you leave." I got out and went into the house while he stowed the car.

I poured some Scotch and Dry. I found my hands were shaking, and funny things were happening at the tops of my legs. They seemed to be getting wet, very wet.

I sat in an armchair to try to get myself under control. Another minute and Leigh came in. He looked at me and protested:

"Hey, that's not the place for you to sit," and he half lifted me up and took me to the sofa. "You don't end a date looking at each other from different seats," he said.

He put his arm round me and pulled me to him. I let myself lean into him without resistance. When he kissed me, thrusting deep with his tongue, I still went along with him. It was when his hand reached for my breasts I made my first objection.

"Don't do that, Leigh. Please stop, darling."

His animated mood dissolved and he became very serious.

"Do you really want me to stop? And don't give me the politically correct answer. Tell me from your heart, do you want me to stop?"

No I didn't. My thighs were saturated and I wanted him like hell –or should it be heaven? I wanted him like I used to want Josh, with all the abandoned passion of a woman deeply in love, and on fire for her lover.

Of course, I loved Leigh. He was the fruit of the love between Josh and I, the outcome of our hunger for each other, he was almost a clone of Josh…"

That thought brought me up with a jerk. Leigh wasn't a clone, but the coming together of Josh's seed with my egg. I had been fertilised in an act of love, and this young man was the result. I had been seeking another Josh. Had I now found him?

He sat looking at me, no longer with his arm round me or touching my breast, waiting for my answer.

If I told the truth now, I would be committed – committed to an unknown future. Perhaps in other circumstance, with another potential lover, it might have been different. I could think to myself, "If I don't really like him, I can send him away." With Leigh, it would be different. If we went ahead and made love, I knew deep inside myself, it would be an act of total commitment on my part. I would be crossing a frontier into the unknown and perhaps bringing great pain upon myself.

I reached for his hand and laid it on my breast. "Touch me, my darling."

His gentle hand fondled my breast so softly. I felt love flowing into me from the touch of his fingers as he pressed my nipple.

He kissed me and then said, "You know I love you, don't you. I've hidden it from you, but I've wanted you ever since I matured sexually. At times, I felt so jealous of dad, always being able to have you like I wanted you. I loved him, but couldn't help my feelings sometimes. Then this morning when you…you won't turn me away, will you? I want you so badly."

"No my love, I'll never turn you away, ever. Come to bed with me."

His love was so sensitive, so perceptive of my needs. His caresses always seemed to find the desired spot at the right moment. I never had to say, "Touch me here, put your tongue in there, put your fingers in," he seemed to know by some sort of instinct. He made me feel like a beautiful, desirable woman, the object of his love.

As the recipient of his caring ardour, I was able to give myself totally to him. I denied him no part of me, often offering more than he asked, sometimes demanding from him more than his imagination could devise.

One shadow hung over our relationship as far as I was concerned. I longed to have his child. After Leigh's birth, Josh had insisted on having a vasectomy. It had been one of the few causes of disagreement between us. I wanted more children with him. He wanted just the one.

Theoretically I could still get pregnant, my menstrual cycle was as it always had been, which made me think my desire was possible of fulfillment. I lived in hope.

Some six months after we became lovers, there was a night of spectacularly sweet passion between us. It lasted for a long time, as if we wanted it to never end. Our in our kisses we seemed to devour each other. His tongue in my vagina and my mouth on his penis, bringing us to the edge of orgasm, but always retreating just in time.

He caressed my breasts and sucked my nipples until I could barely endure the ecstacy. He kissed and licked his way over my entire body, and I responded in kind. We became entangled with each, our bodies twining and untwining about each other, all the time murmuring words of love and devotion.

Finally, I became so frantic with my hunger for him, I begged for him to enter.

"Now, darling, I need you now. Don't make me wait any longer…please…"

Dear lover that he is, he came across me and penetrated my saturated vagina. Even then, he did not hurry. He moved slowly up and down in me, still speaking his raging fire for me.

He took me to paradise that night, and I hope I did the same for him. If his words are the judge, I'm sure I did.

I felt him start to come just as I finally began my orgasm. We clung to each other, he groaning with every convulsion of his ejaculation, I screaming and sobbing at the almost unendurable beauty of what was happening to me. Never before had I produced such an amount of lubricant. It was soaking Leigh as well as me, and with his semen filling me, we seemed to be swimming in what our love produced.

When it was done, we still held to each other, unwilling to come back from the Garden of Eden we had taken each other to.

I am sure it was that night. At the time, as we climbed down from the heavenly heights, the thought flashed across my mind "It will be tonight."

Today I received confirmation. I am pregnant. As I write it is almost time for Leigh to arrive home. He does not know yet, but tonight I must tell him. How will he respond? If he is happy, he will double my own joy. If he is not happy, then…?