My name is Marilyn. I'm a mom. That's it, just a mom. I'm a wife to my husband Hugh, and have been devoted to him for twenty five years now. Sometimes I look at myself and wonder where the time went.
We met in school and dated only briefly before the war. Hugh's unit served bravely in the Pacific theater, Hugh was decorated for his valor in Iwo Jima. We wrote one another religiously while he was away and, like many high school sweethearts of the time, were married as soon as he was discharged from the service. Our only son, David, was born three years later, and we soon settled into a comfortable life. Hugh worked in insurance, I took care of the house and my boys, David and Hugh.
Hugh is a strong man, and doesn't talk much about his experiences in the war. All he's said is they were too horrible to talk about. I think that's all I want to hear. Hugh was always fit, and cut a fine figure in his suit and hat. I used to watch him walk to the car each morning, admiring him from the kitchen window.
Then there is David. He is my joy. As an only child, I have devoted myself to him his entire life. He gets hugs and kisses each morning when he wakes, and every evening before he goes to bed. When he was younger, David would sit on my lap and we would hug for what would seem like hours. It was my only solace during the frequent evenings that Hugh spent out with the boys. Sometimes I would get lonely and crawl into bed with David. Curling up with him would help me sleep.
Then, a few years ago, Hugh's drinking got to be a bit too heavy. He would get intoxicated and fall asleep on the sofa in the den, sometimes days at a time. He would go away for days and, when he returned, he would smell of liquor and cheap perfume. All he'd tell me is he was with his friends from the unit, because only they understood him. This hurt my feelings because, like a good wife, I wanted him to come to me with those things.
Finally, it became too much, and I left Hugh. Daddy had set up a nice trust fund for me, so David and I were well taken care of. We had a nice apartment downtown, in a building with a doorman and a concierge. A car would come and drive David to school and, when he graduated, we took a week long trip to the shore to celebrate.
That's when things got a little . . . different.
David still enjoyed his morning and evening hugs and kisses. I must admit, I enjoyed them too. He is now a tall young man, with a figure cut like his father, but like I remember his father before the war. I have managed to keep myself fit. My hair is still blonde, I still fit into a size 6, and have managed to stay slim. I have always dressed conservatively, wearing slips with my dresses, an apron in the morning, and a cocktail dress at night, even if staying at home. I'd wear gloves when I went anywhere, and always wore the appropriate amount of jewelry.
At the shore, though, we dressed more casually. This one day, David wore a pair of shorts and a thin cotton shirt. I wore a thin cotton dress and, because it was hot, didn't wear a slip all day. The dress was pink, cut just above my knees, with white buttons up the front. The material was thin enough that, in the sun, one might see through it if they were looking closely enough. Feeling the dress against my legs made me feel good, and I think I walked a little differently, enjoying the feeling of my legs rubbing against one another, and the soft material of the dress on my skin.
David noticed too, I think. That morning as I walked into the kitchen, I caught David looking at me . . . more intently than he has in the past. I could swear that he was looking at my legs. Was he trying to see through my dress? The thought made my cheeks flush, I don't know why.
I walked up to him for his morning hug and kiss. He stood up, my he's gotten tall, I walked up to him, he wrapped his arms around me. His arms felt good on top of mine for some reason, so I gave him an extra tight hug. He pulled me into his chest and smelled under my ear.
"Mmmm, Chanel?" He asked of my perfume. I giggled and told him yes.
He smelled again, his nose digging into my ear. The heat of his breath went down my neck, and somehow a chill went up my spine. I got goosebumps. How could this be happening with my son?
We stood there a few moments more, when I felt his . . . front, pressed against my . . . front. I could tell he was getting some special enjoyment out of our hug. I must admit this made me dizzy.
I broke away and, flushed, made his breakfast. While I cooked, David just sat there, watching me, with a funny look on his face. I have to say I felt a little uncomfortable with that encounter. If I was honest with myself tough, I'd realize it wasn't discomfort with David's getting excited, it would be discomfort with the fact that I got excited too. What kind of mother am I?
That day, we read some, we walked the beach, and after the discomfort from the morning's encounter faded, we chatted. It was a little odd, but that day we talked more like two adults than like a mother and her son.
He talked about going off to college, I talked about how much I would miss him. At one point, as we were shopping and I said something silly, he kissed me on the lips. It was quite impromptu, and seemed very natural at the time, but it brought back those uncomfortable feelings. The feeling of his lips on mine, his mouth so strong, mine so soft, left me flushed again. From the way David thrust his hands in his pockets after, I think it had a similar effect on him.
No matter, we walked back from the shop arm in arm, without a care in the world.
That evening we had a wonderful dinner. I cooked roast pork and we both had a glass of wine with dinner. He was of age, so why not? After, he cleared the dishes, something Hugh never did. I thanked him with a peck on the cheek. After the kiss on the cheek, David looked at me as if to say he wanted another kiss on the lips. Oh, I couldn't have that!
"Off to the living room with you," I said, a little flirty. Hands in pockets, David did as he was told. What a good boy!
We finished our evening of reading, and it was time for our hug and kiss goodnight. I had changed into my nightgown and robe. The nightgown was white silk, not much bigger than a slip. I wore a bra and panties under it, and on top, the robe was a comfortable thin cotton number, also white. I felt good in it, and when David saw me, his eyes widened. I didn't notice until later that my nipples were hard, and protruded from the thin cloth of what I had on.
He walked up to me, as he did earlier this morning, and took me in his strong arms. I could feel my body almost melt into David's. I forgot for a moment that he was my son, and simply enjoyed be in the arms of a strong man. I think I sighed when he held me, and wrapped my arms under his, up to his back.
"You feel so good, mom," David said, as he pushed his front into me.
I could feel he was excited, he made no pretense against pressing himself up against me. What is interesting is that I didn't pull away. In fact, I think I pushed back a little. So excited was I, I forgot where I was and who I was with. It just felt good. So that's how I reacted.
"Goodnight darling," I whispered to him, and kissed him on the cheek, holding his head in my hands. David pulled himself into me, and moved his face as if to kiss me on the lips. Would I allow myself to kiss him on the lips?
No, I couldn't. Instead, I pulled away.
"You need some sleep big boy," I said, walking off but still with his hand in mine.
He was visibly excited, with what looked like a tent pole in his pants, and he made no effort to hide it. His face was flushed as I'm sure mine was. I gave his hand a squeeze, then gave him a light kiss on the lips.
"I'll cook something special for you in the morning," I whispered to him. His only reaction was to look down at me. That's when I saw the condition of my nipples. Oh my, they stood right out!
Quickly, I let go of his hand, walked into my room, shut the door, turned out the lights, got in bed, and made myself feel good. I'm quite sure that David did the same.
That night, I didn't sleep well. I got up early nonetheless, and started making pancakes and sausage, David's favorite breakfast.
For some reason, I stayed in my nightgown and robe, rather than changing into a dress as I did most mornings. Soon, as the smell of the sausage cooking filled the beach house, David emerged from his room, looking sleepy. When he walked into the kitchen, things quickly became uncomfortable again. I was at the kitchen counter, with my back to him. I looked back at him, and seeing him only in his underwear, something he never did, I turned away from him.
"Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes dear," I said. He said nothing in return. I could feel his eyes on me, and being honest, it excited me. What I did then, though, surprised even me.
"The powdered sugar is on the top shelf here, could you help me reach it?" I asked David. I knew my voice sounded nervous, almost shaking. I also knew my knees felt weak, and I was feeling that now familiar warm, moist sensation "down there."
Hearing what I said, David, my son, walked up behind me at the counter. He reached up, but it was still a stretch. He couldn't reach the powdered sugar. Now, I know if I had moved, he would reach it fine. But I didn't. Instead, I stood there and so David had to lean into me. Doing so, his front pressed into my rear.
I let out a low moan. David reached the powdered sugar and placed it on the counter in front of me, his front still pressed into my rear.
Then there was a pause. He stayed there for what seemed like a few minutes, but I'm sure was only a few seconds. Then, imperceptibly I think, I pushed back against his front with my rear. With this, David let out a low moan. He pushed into me, this time more forcefully. This was obvious, and I found myself wondering what I should do. I felt the heat between my legs, and the hardness of that part of his body. It felt good, and I haven't felt good for so long.
I decided to keep going. I pressed back on him, and straightened up a little. With that, he wrapped his arms around my waist, pressed himself into me even harder, and pressed his lips against my neck. Feeling his hot breath there gave me the goosebumps again.
All he said was, "Mom . . . ." I let out a hmmmm, and moved my arms up and cupped his head in my hands, so his lips stayed at my neck. It felt so good.
David's hands moved up my waist, and soon cupped my breasts. He opened the cotton robe and soon his hands were inside my bra, pulling at my nipples. By now, I was positively grinding my ass up against his dick . . . his hard dick (oh, so bad to say it that way!), and he was alternating between sucking my neck, kissing my ears, and moaning.
Soon, my robe was on the ground, my nightgown was down to my waist, and my bra was pulled off my breasts. I unhooked it for David, as it doesn't seem he's ever unhooked one. Soon, the bra and nightgown were on the floor. David's hands reached down to my sex. It was burning, and so very wet.
First, over the panties, his fingers probed my warmth. I ground my crotch down on his fingers, moaning like a whore. Then he slipped his fingers into my panties and, for the first time, he came in contact with my very sensitive lady parts. I moaned loudly as the fingers of his right hand grazed over my pubic hair, then down to my warm folds. He rubbed my lady parts as he kissed me. I humped his hand and soon, a rush came over me. I became dizzy and I thought I was going to pass out! My knees buckled under me, and my whole body started to quiver uncontrollably.
Then it came, in rush after rush, my orgasm took control of my body like never before. "Uuuhnnnn," I moaned, over and over again.
David's hands were dripping wet after, wet from my sex. I leaned forward on the kitchen counter, now no longer able to resist my son. He could have me any way he wanted. With my chest on the counter, I felt him step back from me, and his fingers slip into my panties, from the sides. Slowly, he slid the panties down to the floor. I stepped out of them without getting up from the counter. Then there was a pause, and I could tell he was removing his underwear. What I felt next was remarkable.
His hands went to my hips, then slid down the sides of my legs. Then, I felt his bare hard cock come rest up on my uncovered ass. He leaned down over me, chest on my back, then reached out front, between my legs. I felt an expectant twitch in my pussy . . . my wet pussy. Then his cock came off my ass, and down between my legs. I felt his fingers reach for for the cock.
With that, I reached down too and, with his hand in mine, we both took his cock, and placed the head of it up against the entrance of my pussy. There I was, with my chest against the kitchen counter, my face flushed and panting like a prostitute. My legs were spread and my son's cock was poised at the very entrance of me. There we sat for a moment, perhaps to see if it was real, perhaps to revel in the expectant pleasure of it. But soon, I could not wait.
"Fuck me," I said, "Fuck me David."
"Oh mom," he said, as he slowly glided the head of him into me. My juices flowed as he continued sliding the length of his cock into me.
It took a deliciously long time, and soon, I felt his full length enveloped in my womb. We both moaned.
"Fuck me David," I said, this time more urgently. Soon, he drew the length of himself out, and plunged it back in.
"That's right," I said.
He did it again. "Ohhh." Soon, my son was pumping his cock hard in and out of me. I was pushing back best I could, wanting more, and relishing each thrust.
His cock seemed to open me up. I clamped down on him with my pussy, and he groaned. I could feel his cock swell. I could feel the head flare out, and his cock instinctively sought pleasure that would lead to his orgasm.
"Fuck me . . . fuck me . . . cum in me," I panted. David pumped me for all he was worth. I pressed my rear into him, wanting all he could give me, then he came. Oh, and how he came!
Spasm after spasm came over him. He thrashed about behind me, as I could feel his sperm pump into my body. I clamped down on his cock, my pussy greedy to keep the seed inside me.
His orgasm lasted almost a minute. After that, we stood there, in the same position, until he became flaccid. Slowly, his cock slid out of me. I felt it fall out and I stood up.
"Now go get yourself cleaned up, I'll warm up these pancakes and then we can eat."
Good boy, he did what he was told.