A work of fiction. All characters are 18 years or older.
Part 1
Never had I so forlornly prepared myself for sex. It was inevitable. Unavoidable. And yet I resisted as though there was still the possibility of clemency. I chapped my lips and adjusted my bra. I pulled my thong up. Mark was waiting in the bedroom. He was waiting and I was stalling. Trying to psych myself up for what I was sure would be a sweeping anticlimax.
It had been two days since I had succumbed to James. Two long days since we had christened the guest bedroom with the heaving and creaking of our frenzied lovemaking. We had not been able to lay a finger on each other since.
It was my fault. The 'rules' that I had drawn up to protect our taboo relationship dictated we keep our distance. There was simply no opportunity for even a stolen kiss or sly grope and feel. On any other weekend it might have been easier. But it was my husband's birthday weekend which made it more or less impossible.
I checked my burner phone. James's last message summed up our collective frustration.
'I need to be inside you.'
I sighed as I checked my stockings for ladders. The phone was buried at the bottom of the laundry basket. I would retrieve it later. I knew it would be difficult when embarking on this mad journey. All my plans had factored in the restrictions on our time together.
But now...now that I had tasted him. Now that I had surrendered my body to his restless hands. Now my pussy had experienced the joy of his insatiable cock as it heaved in and out of her. All the plans and contingencies had gone out of the window.
The day after was the easiest. We still clung to our post-coital glow, carrying on our outward roles as mother and son as Mark flitted between us. We joked, I nagged, he complained, we did chores together, I worked in my study, he went for a bike ride. We hid in the banality of home life and to all intents and purposes were completely normal and nondescript.
We could only communicate with our eyes. There were longing expressions. They would linger just long enough to register the pain of our enforced celibacy. Looks and glances, smiles and grins. Each of them an exchange of our mutual desire and memories of heat and passion that seemed such a long time ago. Every passing second took us further away from our joyful copulation with no promise of return.
We were treading water in the currents. Waiting for the propitious moment when we could emerge and engulf each other on the shore. The second day was harder. I worried we would both crack. That James would ambush me as I washed the dishes. Raining kisses down my neck while I lifted my skirt up to welcome him inside. Or I would sneak into the garage and gag him with my panties as I foisted myself onto his cock.
So many thoughts and impulses that charged the air between us and then dissipated without fulfilment. We took refuge in the burners. I sat in the conservatory while he stayed in his bedroom. We messaged each other relentlessly. I watched Mark in the garden while a new message would ping through from James.
He was masturbating in the room just above me. He held onto the emerald panties I bequeathed him from our first session. We tapped furiously on the burners as we replayed that magical afternoon. He described the way my breasts had bounced as he dragged me to and fro on his cock. I relived the moment he had exploded in me. I told him how tightly my pussy walls had gripped onto him at that moment. He told me the panties still smelled of our cum. I told him all my lingerie would soon bear the same scent.
We sent each other into an ill-advised tizzy before I broke it off. I was genuinely concerned that one of us would be driven into such a frenzy they would do something even more ill-advised. Mark continued his gardening outside, blissfully unaware that his son and wife were reminiscing about their first incestuous coupling inside.
We went for dinner on Sunday to celebrate Mark's birthday. Friends and family joined us and our longing was tempered in the company of so many people close to us. It was an enjoyable occasion and I was glad to see it so well attended.
In the background was the spectre of my hunger. James and I away from all of this. Trying new positions and techniques. Pushing the boundaries of our bodies capacity for each other. Instead of here at this family gathering. Helping to blow out candles and sing Happy Birthday. We were secret super-villains mixing with the general populace, but aching to be back in our lair of incest and doing unpardonable things to one other.
And now here I was that same evening. Preparing myself for Mark. Readying for a night of marital obligation. At least...that's how I saw it now. I consoled myself with the thought that a slightly tipsy Mark would likely only last a half hour if even that. He wouldn't be like James. Imbued with the virility of youth and the forbidden pleasure of penetrating his mother. He wouldn't be troubling the small hours with his ardour, rousing his cock again and again to plunge into my sopping cunt.
I checked myself one last time. What was about to transpire may have been a formality but I still prided myself on putting on a good show. I had to please my husband. If James and I were to pursue our affair then it would have to be under the aegis of a happy house and home. To satisfy myself I had to satisfy Mark. I had to ensure he would not have even an inkling that my true affections and desires lay elsewhere. Particularly if that elsewhere was so close to home.
I opened the door to the bathroom and slinked out. Mark gave a low whistle as I bowed before him. He was laid out on the bed. I could tell he was little drunk and also tired from the evening celebrations. I approached the bed and crawled up to his midriff. He reached out and took my breasts in his hands. We kissed. It was anodyne. His breath still carried the trace of whiskey. I reached for his cock and started to pump it.
In my mind I was looking for shortcuts and thresholds. What was the least amount of time I could spend jacking or blowing him that wouldn't make me come across as a reluctant shrew? I tried to focus on Friday afternoon. I pretended I wasn't here with my husband, but my son instead. It was a harder fallacy to pull off than I hoped. Everywhere I looked there were shortfalls and disappointments. I was game, but I was jaded as well.
We continued with the foreplay for a few minutes before I manoeuvred myself onto Mark and started riding him. I thought of James across the landing. Sulking in his room. Headphones in and trying to focus on his ipad while I fucked someone else. The thought turned me on and I increased my rhythm. It turned me on to think of him jealous and inflamed. Stroking his cock angrily as someone else enjoyed the pussy he so desperately wanted to.
'Ah!'
Mark came with a sharp grunt and surprised me. I slowed my thrusting and ground to a halt. I leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead as though he were a mascot and not my lord and master. He puffed his cheeks out as I slipped out from him. It had happened so fast I hadn't even had chance to fake an orgasm. He took me in his arms and I lay there grudging and silent.
The snores started and compounded my dissatisfaction. Was this really the man I had spent so much of my life with? Who I had loved, respected and desired? And now I lay in his embrace like a caged bird waiting for the door to open so I could escape. At least it was over. It was over quickly and less painfully than I had expected. My other facades were easier to maintain but this one, lover, was subject to a scrutiny that exposed all imposters.
We both had the day off on Monday and Mark would expect a repeat performance no doubt. I speculated on ways to tire him out. We had nothing special planned and that lack of itinerary worried me. It left more time for Mark to initiate sex. I racked my brain. There was always a bike ride. I had my own bike though I rarely used it. Cycling was the preserve of Mark and James, their bonding pastime. I smiled as I compared it to the bonding pastime James and I had now commenced.
We had always been close. He was an only child. But we had never had anything like the long, rambling bike rides he took with his father. They were gone for hours on end. Now, that was my goal though for completely different reasons and expectations.
That's when the thought struck me. How James and I could combine our new pastime with his existing one. I could feign a newfound interest in the physical benefits of two wheels. What better excuse than to accompany James on a ride?
I had underestimated how desperate James and I would be to indulge our appetites for each other. I wasn't sure why, but my original draft of rules had deemed the guest bedroom as the only acceptable arena for our lovemaking. But now I realised this only allowed a few opportunities a week for us to be alone.
As Mark had proved over the weekend, his presence here was frustratingly regular. I felt bad resenting him for the audacity of spending time in his own home. He was like a puritanical chaperone trapped in a house with two raging lovers and foiling their repeated attempts to hump.
No, it was obvious that James and I would have to expand our base of operations. We would have to take our incest club on the road. That's why the option of the bike ride appealed to me. It was natural, innocuous. It afforded us an hour or two of time to ourselves. The only issue was where to spend it.
Mark's arm was clamped over mine but I delicately managed to unhook myself and reach for my phone. I checked Mark to make sure he was definitely sleeping. I turned my back on him and loaded up the browser. I went to AirBnB and typed in my post code and short term lets within a few miles.
My plan was to cycle somewhere close and then retreat to a rented hideaway. I would pay with my incest expenses card and we could canoodle until the time came to return home. It seemed like a good plan. I would have to discuss with it James. We would have to stress test our deception. Ensure it was water tight and our precious time would not be interrupted or open to suspicion.
As I looked through the available properties the thought struck me again. I was researching locations to have illicit sex with my son. And this was because my original plans for screwing him had not factored in sufficient opportunities for fucking. Any time I pondered over the management of our relationship then it would pop into my head and set my juices flowing. I scrolled through studio apartments, pied-a-terres, bedsits, boltholes and flats. I studied the furniture. The layout. The size of the bed.
Each time the same thought in my head. 'Would James enjoy fucking me over this couch or this futon? Would anyone see him pounding me through that window? Were the walls thick or would the neighbours hear me screaming at him to cum in his mother?'. Everything was viewed through the prism of our uncontrollable lust.
I ceased my searching. I was turning myself on way too much with no hope or prospect of release. I turned back to Mark and watched him sleep. It was inexplicable. How much I could lie to him. He had no clue. The ground had shifted irrevocably underneath his feet and he kept walking. He was like a cartoon character who did not understand to look down. If he did he would see there was nothing below him but an empty sky.
Part 2
James was in a sulk in the morning. I got up to see him off and found him in the kitchen. Mark was still dozing upstairs. I came down in a chiffon gown that displayed more than an ample amount of cleavage. I suspected he would be in a bad mood. He perked up as I waltzed into the kitchen, my breasts heaving against the tight fabric.
'Morning, sweetie.'
He grunted in reply.
'Do you want a lift this morning? I don't mind taking you in.'
His eyes lit up.
'Do you mean...'
'No, James. I can't. Not right now. Remember the plan. The rules.'
He chomped miserably on his cornflakes.
'I'm sorry. About...last night as well. But you know the situation we are in. You know why I have to do this.'
He dropped his spoon into the bowl and wiped his mouth clean.
'I know...I'm sorry, Mum. I didn't...I didn't expect to feel like this. I mean...I don't even know why I'm jealous. I'm the other guy, not Dad!'
I blushed and fiddled with my hair.
'You're jealous...really?'
'Are you serious, Mum? Jesus, look at you. I want to take you right now!'
I laughed and pulled my gown tighter like a shy schoolgirl accepting her first compliment.
'When can we...' he trailed off.
'I'm working on it. I promise. That is my job for the day. Keep your burner on.'
He broke out into a wide smile and walked over to me. For a moment I couldn't say anything. I wanted what he wanted. To just ignore the plan. To pull the tablecloth off, tip over the fruit bowl and place mats. To spread myself out on the kitchen table while he went to work on me.
We both waited as if expecting each other to make the first move. Eventually he grinned and headed for the washroom. I fell into a chair, my pussy soaking. If this went on much longer than I felt I would be the one to break, not him.
He grabbed his bag and shouted a goodbye to me as he left. I felt guilty for being turned on by James's jealousy. It was a negative emotion directed at Mark who was entirely blameless in this. He was the victim though thankfully he remained unaware of it. It was James and myself, the architects of his cuckolding, who were the ones nursing a sense of grievance.
I sat at the table and sighed. I stroked at the cloth harbouring a slight regret that it was still in place and not in a heap on the floor along with a trail of oranges and apples. I had no experience of juggling dual lives. It had only been a few days and I felt I was at the breaking point already.
I approached the problem as clinically as I could given my vested interests. The key to success was ensuring James and I had the opportunity and means to fuck as much as we wanted. This would reflect in a better home life for all of us, Mark included. There would be no frustration or bitterness. We would not resent him.
I wanted to laugh out loud at my hypothesis. As though it was the result of years of academic research and collaboration. The first law of incest. Let them fuck as much as they want. I picked up an apple and took a bite. Right now, we were failing the first law. I knew I had to fix it.
Part 3
I made Mark breakfast and brought it up to him. He was still asleep so I woke him up with another rendition of Happy Birthday. He smiled as he brushed the sleep from his eyes. Today was his actual birthday though all the celebrations and gifts had been doled out yesterday. I sat with him as he munched on crepes and banana slices. I asked him what he wanted to do that day.
'I feel a bit tired to be honest. I think I had one too many pints last night. Definitely getting older.'
I teased him but inside there was smidgen of relief that he hadn't secretly unveiled his plan to spend the day in bed cavorting. I waited till he finished then took away the tray and plate like a good and dutiful wife. He jumped in the shower and I took the lull to search my phone for potential places to rent for myself and James.
I collated a few promising listings on a shortlist and resolved to reconnoiter them later before making a final decision. I would also need to mention my bike to Mark. The sooner I could float that into conversation then the sooner I could build up to long, circuitous trips with James.
It had the makings of a good cover, but I wanted to road test it first. In the interim I decided upon booking one of the AirBnB properties for Wednesday. I often worked late on a Wednesday and thankfully James also made regular plans on that day due to his lift not always being available. It was not untoward that both of us would not be home when Mark arrived.
It was over two days away but it was the best I could hope for in the circumstances. It still felt too early to be taking wild risks despite our desperate need to be unleashed upon the other. It was a game of strategy, I told myself, not of chance. I was looking at the long-term.
The thought shocked me a little. I wasn't just looking over the summer or even while James was away at university. This went beyond that. We had only slept together twice and I was already thinking about a future not just with James the intern or James the student but also with James the fully fledged professional. Mark and I would buy him a house close by and I would slip across and we would fuck with abandon, free of my oppressive rules.
I felt ingenuous. I had always dismissed love at first sight. Those awful, tedious couples who tried to persuade people that one glance was all it had taken for them to be convinced and now here I was; an atheist being converted. Not love at first sight, but coup de foudre. Unforeseen, unexpected but smitten nonetheless. Hopelessly smitten.
Mark finished his shower and I took my turn. The water seeped into my tired pores and I realised the bike ploy may actually be an opportunity for me to gain some fitness as well. I had never really been out of shape but the afternoon with James had left me aching and sore. It wouldn't hurt to work on some cardio. I wanted to match him blow for blow.
I grabbed my burner from the laundry basket and dropped James a message about reserving time on Wednesday evening. He replied almost instantly with with an excited stream of thoughts. I dried myself as I read his outpourings and imagined him getting hard at work. Trying to conceal his huge erection in his booth.
Mark was not in the bedroom when I came out. I figured he would already have changed and slipped out into the garden. I would have to join him. I had never understood the appeal of gardening though I would be the first to admit our garden showed the lush and pristine touch of an attentive horticulturist.
Sure enough he was busy preening a bush when I joined him outside. I had changed into some old clothes to help him. He grinned and tossed me some gardening gloves and instructed me clear the borders of weeds. We chirped away under a pleasant sun, talking about work and James and how previous birthdays had been spent indulging in much riskier and sordid activities.
He talked about feeling old and I scolded him his cynicism. I told him that he was still a young man and that the best was still to come. It was hypocritical and insincere but I felt little shame in telling him these reassuring fibs. I was becoming a manipulative spouse in the best tradition of the mould.
Whispering sweet nothings to my unsuspecting husband whilst I plotted his demise with my new lover. I mentioned going for a bike ride and his ears pricked up. He offered to go later in the evening. Just a short one, perhaps a half hour or so on a forgiving route as a reintroduction.
I readily agreed. He talked about the route and I'm sure he was listing the local landmarks and beauty spots but I wasn't really listening. I was trying to calculate a plausible timeline to go from a half hour bike ride to more than double that. My head was route planner, gauging the distance to the rental property, how long it would take and the most important calculation of all; how much time James and I would have to pleasure each other.
Mark droned on as my pussy drooled at the thought of my new ruse. I was still trying to understand these burgeoning desires. It was not just that James was my son that amplified our lovemaking. I knew that it was also partly the thought of deceiving Mark. Of fabricating these excuses and deceptions as part of our betrayal. The thought of both of us mocking him as we bounced off each other.
Yes, I had become a horrible person. But I was accepting it now. I was embracing the villainy. It felt rejuvenating to cast off the tired persona of so many years. I was reborn. A scheming, devious, untrustworthy nymphomaniac. One who could only be satisfied with the most heinous and unforgivable lover. My partner-in-crime. My son.
Part 4
We ate lunch in the conservatory as the sun intensified its rays. I mentioned to Mark that I had to pop out for some chores and asked him if he wanted anything. He declined and after we had finished I washed up and got changed into some casual clothes.
I hopped down to the car and pulled out of the drive. I waited until I was out of sight before loading up my GPS and entering the locations of the three properties I had identified as liaison points for James and myself. I wondered whether this caution would ever leave me. It was borderline OCD. It was necessary but certainly not part of the thrill.
I set off and followed the directions to the first property. It's main feature was that it was relatively close to home. James and I could be there quickly but it wasn't close enough to bump into people who knew us. It was a standard holiday let. A bungalow on a quiet street and close to the river. It was promising. There was virtually no-one about though it was mid-day Monday.
I headed off to the second place and saw that it was next to a construction site. I immediately discounted it. The third place was the furthest but also looked a viable candidate. It was in a block of flats close to town. It was a bustling part of town and easy to get lost in the rush of people. We could be there from work in a flash.
I took my phone and secret credit card out and logged into the website. I booked the flat for Wednesday and made arrangements to collect the keys later today. In all likelihood it would serve as a short term stopgap. The bungalow would be more suited to our long term needs. Once I had parlayed my biking enthusiasm into a few hours absence then we could use it.
I took out the burner to let James know. Another stream of barely controlled exclamations came back at me. I asked him what he wanted me to wear. I was shopping in town and would pick up any special requests now. There was no response for a while and I correctly deduced he had to go and sit down in private somewhere to compose himself.
I offered him some options. Negligee, babydoll, camisole, corset or classic bra and knickers. He replied to bring them all and cancel all plans for Thursday. I laughed and massaged my tender pussy as I discussed what lingerie my son would prefer me to dress in before he ripped it off and fucked me madly.
I got out of the car and headed to the shops. The purpose of my trip was entirely incest-related. It was a delicious feeling. Walking across the threshold to shops. Stepping past fellow shoppers as we browsed the inventory. Chatting with cashiers as I paid for my special undergarment. I almost wanted to whisper to someone. Let them in on the secret.
'These crotchless panties. This red teddy. This silk slip. These suspenders. I'm going to use them to seduce my son. They probably won't be on for long. I imagine he'll tear them off and feed me his cock before he even notices they are gone.'
It was another element of the thrill for me. Not that James and I were just deceiving Mark. We were deceiving the whole world. We were doing things behind closed doors that would shock and appal them if they knew.
I carried my brimming bag of garments back to the car. It was time for me to collect the keys to the flat and I entered the apartment block and headed to the concierge's office. The key was handed over in a brief transaction and I opened the door to the ground floor flat and stepped in. It was basic but adequate enough. For our purposes anyway.
I took out my phone and wondered if I could whisk James here from work now. I didn't want to wait until Wednesday. I typed it out but ultimately didn't send the message. He had already bunked off early on Friday and if he slipped out again today there may be questions. I went back to the car and hauled my bags into the flat.
I tried each outfit on and inspected myself. They were all perfect. He would ravish me in each and every one and then I would buy more. An entire collection just to please him. In every possible range and taste. Daring bustiers. Slutty body stockings. Even prudish slips that reached down to my ankles. I would role play a shocked and horrified mother fending off the ministrations of her horny son.
So many scenarios and possibilities. So much for us to discover. It had been less than a week and the expenses were racking up on my secret card. I smiled at the thought. My spending was normally so frugal. Now I was profligate, throwing money into the shameless pursuit of my son and every penny of it seemed well spent and deserving of the outlay.
I checked my normal phone. James had sent two screenshots of his Facebook page. The first one showed his relationship status as 'Single'. In the second one it had been changed to 'It's complicated'. I smirked and sent a message back.
'It's complicated but also...it's not complicated at all.'
'No,' he answered. 'It's not complicated at all.'
We were making fun of the world. Dropping clues and breadcrumbs as though we wanted everyone to discover the depths of our depravity. It was part of the thrill as well. If they knew then they would think about it. They would imagine James overlaying his long body over me. My back arching as he pummelled yet another load into me. And perhaps they would feel the thrill too.
Part 5
I stopped on the way home to buy groceries and ensure my little trip had at least yielded something I could bring into the house as evidence of my absence.
Mark was relaxing in the conservatory when I arrived. He helped me unload the shopping while I raised the topic of the bike ride again.
'I got your bike ready just in case, Janey,' he smiled.
''What do you mean, just in case?' I giggled.
'You know...it's been sat in the garage rusting for a while now. I had to put some oil on it and reset the chains but it should be good to go now.'
'Yeah...it's been a while hasn't it? Still, no time like the present.'
'Indeed,' he replied.
We got changed and went out to the garage. I clipped on my helmet. It was still new, used only once and then put back into its box. I tried to recall when Mark had surprised me with the gift of the bicycle. Had it been four or five years ago? It wasn't that I disliked cycling. As a means of exercise it didn't really appeal to me. I was always more of a swimmer or runner.
I hoped my rediscovered appetite for it did not seem odd to Mark. It would have been a natural assumption given my preceding years of apathy. I wanted to present it as a wife wanting to spend more time with her husband. He would never know that it was an illicit means of bringing James and I closer together.
We set off and turned down into the gentle slope that led into our cul-de-sac. A car passed by too close and I almost panicked. Now I remembered why I wasn't a fan of this. Too many idiot drivers. We reached the grassy verge quickly and I felt a surge of relief as we switched from the road to the snaking paths and swails of the park.
We passed the copse where James had confessed his part in that fateful Friday night. I glanced sideways as we passed. It felt as though the echoes of our past selves were still there in a state of shock and disbelief. This time I was revisiting it with new eyes. Recalling James describe how roughly he had used my mouth and throat. At the time it was jolting, but now I felt exhilarated and eager for more of the same.
We finished the circuit of the park and swung back onto the road to head home. It had taken just under half an hour and as we pulled into our driveway I realised it had actually been an enjoyable excursion. Aside from having to cope with the carefree negligence of passing motorists, it was a pleasant way to spend an hour or two.
Mark seemed overjoyed when I told him. I could see him planning further trips in his mind. I would have to be careful in juggling this ploy. I didn't want it to end up being a distraction that would actually take time away from James and myself rather than creating it.
I went to my study and logged into my laptop. I accessed my work diary and checked for planned holidays. Other than a trip Mark and I had booked around the time James was due to go to university, there was nothing planned. I scoured my work and social diary for opportunities.
Conferences, workshops, birthdays, weddings, graduations, baptisms and bar mitzvahs. The thought now was how could they accommodate our incest schedule? I identified a number of days over the next few weeks that looked suitable and texted James. He would have to request the time off as well and pray it would be approved. He messaged back with a fingers crossed emoji.
I closed my laptop down and went to the kitchen to prepare dinner. James arrived back as I finished setting the table. We shared a look as he walked in through the conservatory doors and I knew it was all worth it. The lies, the infidelity, the sheer unholiness of it. It was a wonderful edifice we were constructing around us. A pyramid we were being sealed in for eternity.
We were all in good spirits during dinner. Mark because he was still basking in his birthday revelry and James and I because we knew we would soon be locked away in a dark room together. Soon wasn't soon enough. It felt like our frustration was magnified a thousand times over.
It was just the start of our passion. It was the honeymoon period when every moment should have been consumed with the quest for the next orgasm. When there was nowhere that was not despoiled with the taint of our love. I wanted to feel the curved edge of the kitchen table as he fucked me over it. I wanted to clutch the balustrade as he balanced me against the staircase and hooked my legs over his arms. I wanted carpet burns on my hips and knees as he ragged me senseless in the living room.
I wanted to wake up from a sex-induced sleep and have to wander the rooms to find where my clothes had been torn from me. I wanted to find spots and sploshes on clothes and linen and try to work out if it was my cum, his or a combination. But I could do none of those things. So I sat and waited and hoped my patience would serve me until Wednesday.
Part 6
Tuesday was the cruellest day. I woke in the morning to discover James had already left for work. He had sent me a message saying he didn't trust himself to be alone in the car with me. I was impressed at his fortitude and ever so slightly disappointed that he would not be there and possibly try something. I had thought I was the responsible one in our nascent relationship but perhaps it was him. Perhaps he knew better how to manage addiction.
I wasn't sure I could call it an addiction after only one orgasm-filled afternoon. Did junkies know after the first hit? Did alcoholics take one swig and then surrender all hope of control and reason. That was what it felt like. My waking and subconscious mind could think of nothing else. Sure, I was still able to pass myself off as an attentive wife and fastidious employee but wasn't that just another sign of addiction as well? Being high-functioning whilst still in the throes of your affliction.
The day passed in a blur. There were no messages from James on the burner or normal phone. He must have been going cold turkey. I couldn't blame him. It was just for a day. Any longer and his attempt at rehab may have prompted an escape.
I stayed a little later than normal and he did not show for a lift.
I stopped by the flat on the way home. I had brought a change of clothes as a contingency. I left some flowers in the bedroom and lay across the bed for a few minutes imagining myself draped over his body and stroking his chest as his most recent load of cum settled in my pussy.
When I got home Mark was only just arriving as well. James was shut in his bedroom and did not emerge for the evening. I messaged him to ask if he was ok.
'Yes, all fine. Just...you know...'
Yes. I did know. I messaged back saying it would all be worth it tomorrow and he responded with a string of emojis. I used the rest of the evening to go for another bike ride with Mark. It seemed like a a constructive thing to do given that I could not have sex with my son and all my other chores were completed. I showered afterwards and slipped into bed heavy with anticipation for tomorrow.
Part 7
James was gone again. I imagined that he had bolted out of bed and sprung out onto the road on his bike. If only we could run to the future. If only there was a way to channel our energy into travelling to the moment in time we wanted to experience. Sadly, it was an impossibility so I chose to reserve my strength. I set off at a much more leisurely pace to work but no less excited.
I felt at the flat key in the lining of my wallet as though it had magical properties. I had arranged to leave from work a little early and beat James there. I wanted to be showered and changed into one of my new outfits. I wanted to witness the desire in his eyes as I unveiled it to him.
Work was a quagmire. I was bogged down in emails and memos and meaningless, pointless paperwork. It felt like a gauntlet. One specifically designed to test my resilience before I was entitled to claim my prize. I checked my watch every five minutes to ensure that it was correct and the battery was not dead. I got up and paced around my office. I used my desk to do stretches. I wanted to be able to contort myself into any position for James. To test new angles for him to enter me and gauge just how deep he could go.
Finally the clock relented and the chosen hour arrived. I swept out of work like a tropical hurricane. I knew James would not be too far behind. i felt like I was racing him to get there even though I knew he wouldn't be able to leave for a good half hour. I almost snapped the key off getting into the flat.
I ran the shower and practically cut myself out of my work clothes. I was gripped by a rising panic that I wouldn't be ready in time. That my makeup wouldn't be finished, my hair would be dishevelled and my clothes crumpled and creased. I wanted everything to be perfect. I jumped out and began frantically preparing myself.
Part of my frenzy was being in a strange place. My normal habits and behaviours were thrown off balance. There was only one mirror on the wall. I had shut the curtains and the light from the bulb was weak and dim. My clothes and lingerie were either in bags or hung on stiff hangers in a dust filled wardrobe.
I took a moment to calm myself down and commenced getting ready. I had decided to wear the babydoll outfit this time. There was something pure and virginal about it with its sheer fabric and ecru trim. The way it hung over the smooth curve of my stomach and clasped my heaving breasts. I felt like a nervous bride eagerly awaiting her wedding night. I pulled up my white satin thong and smoothed my hair down.
I looked in the mirror and tried to find any blemishes or marks. So much effort and time to try to pull off perfection when it would all be dismantled within a few seconds. I felt like a sculpture of ice that was being taken away to be thrown into a blast furnace. I checked the time. James should have left work by now but there was no text to announce his impending arrival.
Had something happened? Was he still stuck at work? Or...had something awful happened to him on the way over? Suddenly I was back to parent mode, worrying that he had been in an accident and was lying in a pool of blood somewhere. I sat on the bed and tried to calm myself down. Knowing James, the more likely explanation was the he had ignored my instruction to text as a way of teasing me. He was heightening my anticipation. Or just trolling me.
There was a knock at the door. Sharp and earnest. I leapt off the bed. I almost tripped up getting to the door and then recoiled from it as if scalded. What if wasn't James and it was instead a complete stranger knocking? I peered through the eye hole to confirm that yes, it was indeed my horny son waiting outside for our pre-arranged incestuous tryst. I took a moment to stare at him through the small viewer of the door. He looked febrile. Ready to explode.
I unlocked the door and welcomed him in. He stepped through dazed, unresponsive. Looking me up and down as though I were something new and alien.
'James,' I softly called to him.
He looked me in the eye and blew his cheeks out.
'Mum...just when I think you couldn't get any sexier...I almost...'
'Almost what?'
'I almost don't want to...befoul you. I mean...they should just take a plaster cast of you and put it in the Louvre.'
I took his hand and held it against the fabric of the thong. My pussy glowed heat against the back of his hand.
'I hate to disappoint you, James...but I am going to have to insist on you befouling me. In fact, you're going to have to befoul me to such an extent that perhaps after we're finished they will just place the both of us in the Louvre anyway. We can live in the Greek tragedy section. A living diorama for them to come and watch.'
His face lit up as I spoke. His hand oscillated against my thong stoking the fire within. He pulled me in close and kissed me. It was ravenous. Friday seemed like a lifetime ago. His tongue chased mine. Sometimes I let it catch up and hover there flicking the tip of mine before it would vanish again and he would set off in fresh pursuit.
I felt his hands caress my hips and slip down to my legs. He swept me up in his arms, his tongue never deviating from mine. I held onto his shoulders as I was carried away. We took a step or two before he broke off and confessed he had no idea where he was going. We laughed and nuzzled and I licked his face as I directed him to the bedroom.
He lowered me to the floor as I unbuttoned his shirt. He was far too clothed for my liking. I peeled him out of his shirt and trousers. He stood before me in boxer shorts that strained against the heft of his engorged cock. I knelt down and ran my face over the outline of it. I breathed in the moist aroma. I slipped underneath him and my tongue darted out across his exposed ball. It was delicious.
I pushed his legs apart and pulled the boxer shorts down. His cock was also febrile. Ready to explode. I positioned myself under him and took his balls in my mouth. I licked and sucked them as I started to pump on his cock. He moaned and I took more of him into my willing maw.
I frenched his balls. They were too big to fit both in my mouth so I took turns alternating. I licked and wanked him as he whispered to me. It was such a turn on. Hearing him murmur, 'Mum', as I rinsed his ball sack in my mouth.
'Ah, please...Mum...you're going to make me cum,' he protested.
I took a pause and wiped the saliva from my mouth.
'That was kind of the point.'
'I can't, Mum.'
'What?' I replied, confused.
'I...I need to cum in you. Get up.'
He grabbed my forearm and pulled me up. He twisted me towards the bed and pushed me down. I placed my hands on the mattress as he ran his fingers over my arse. He lifted up the silk trim of the babydoll and pulled my thong to one side.
My cunt was was already oozing. I felt the juices run down the inside of my thighs as his finger traced down the lips. He ran his index finger over them. I whimpered as he inserted the tip inside me. He slowly inserted more and more until it was completely inside, trapped in the heat of my pussy. He pulled it out and I mewled.
'You taste so good, Mum,' he intoned behind me.
Before I could respond he stuck his finger in again and I had to bite my tongue from crying out. He started going faster. The palm of his hand smacked against the slick lips of my pussy as he fingered me. I put my face to the mattress and screamed into it.
His other hand kneaded my buttocks and slid over my hips. I pushed back against his finger as my juices flowed onto the bed. He pulled out and I gave a snort of surprise and belligerence. I craned my neck to look at him but he grabbed my hair with his wet hand.
I arched my back as he pulled at me. He slapped my arse and pushed me forward. I felt my pussy juice slide down from his finger and onto my scalp. My brow was feverish. Surely it was impossible to feel this type of heat without being seriously ill.
I pulled at the straps of the babydoll and hauled it over my shoulders and onto the floor. My breasts swung free and he immediately leaned over to take them in his hands.
I sensed his huge cock stalking me. It wafted outside my pussy lips like a rocket counting down. It felt like I had an extra sensory perception for it. I could feel its warmth. I could see its head, glistening with pre-cum. I could hear the balls tightening in preparation for what was about to occur.
He left my breasts and brushed my hair away from the nape of my neck. He drew his hands across my spine arcing his way down to my thighs. He leaned over and kissed my buttocks before giving them another slap. He paused a moment. 'More trolling,' I thought. Then he entered me. We groaned in unison. I panted as he slid himself into me fully. I thought he was big when we fucked in missionary, but in this position it was an even greater sensation. He was choking my pussy.
He began fucking me. Slow, deliberate strokes. I imagined he thought he was being gentle, but with his size it was almost a moot point. My pussy shrieked, half in pain, half in pleasure. I gave a low and guttural moan.
'Harder,' I said sternly.
'I didn't hear you, Mum.'
'I said...fuck me harder. Fuck Mummy senseless!'
He yanked on my hair and began to pound me. I shouted as he impaled himself violently into my cunt. Every time he drew back my pussy gushed more juice out. I felt the spray against my ankles. He let go of my hair. My head fell forward and I bit into the bed sheet.
His hands clamped onto my hips as he furiously pumped his cock into me. It was so unspeakably delicious. It was hard to pinpoint just one area of pleasure. It seemed like my entire body was humming in delight as my son banged away at my pussy. The lascivious slap, slap, slap of my body against his. My impassioned grunts and moans. The gushing of my juices. It was a grand symphony; I was the orchestra and James was conducting me with his penis.
He growled and reached out for my shoulders. I felt them pull back and stretch. My hair jumped with every thrust and the tresses spilled over his hands. He clutched at them and increased his rhythm. I felt like a porcelain figure in his hands ready to break apart at the slightest vibration but here he was pounding away for all his worth. It was a wonderful dichotomy to be so small and delicate in his hands and still robust enough to accommodate his huge length.
He was now going so fast, it was like he wasn't leaving my body at all. He grabbed my arms and pulled me up. I surrendered as he used my stiff limbs for leverage. I was totally captive. My pussy under siege from his rampant cock and my arms unable to break free from his iron grip. It was heavenly. I just wanted to remain in that position forever.
My first orgasm washed over me and I became limp and inert in his hands. He hammered away even harder and my head lost its ability to hold itself up. I flopped around like a rag doll. My long hair twirled like a sail. I almost felt as though I could take off. I heard him grunting and sensed he was near.
'Yes, James. Cum in me. Cum in Mummy! I need your cum! I want your cum!'
He roared and I felt the first salvo explode. Another orgasm wracked me. His warm cum swept into my pussy and I screamed. He kept pounding away and each thrust brought a wonderful new rope of his sweetness shooting into me. He cried out again and we both fell onto the bed, utterly spent.
We lay there twitching and shivering. His cock remained in me. His cum percolated around my well worked pussy. I blew a lock of hair away from my eye line. It was just about the only physical action I could perform at that point. He covered me like a felled tree. I did not want it to be lifted off.
'I didn't...'
'Hm?' he said weakly.
'I didn't think it could be better than last time,' I managed.
He said nothing but gave an agonised wheeze which I took to be an agreement.
As much as I wanted to keep him inside me, I slid his penis out and moved over to kiss him. I nibbled on his lips and lapped at his tongue. It seemed to revive him and he put his arms around me as we locked lips. I came up for air first and stroked his jaw.
'Did you have a wank before this time as well?' I giggled at him.
'Come on, Mum. Even if I'd been wanking all day...just one second fucking you is all it would take to cum.'
'Nice. Excellent flattery,' I purred.
'I try,' he grinned.
'Well, the good news is there's going to be plenty of opportunities to work on your stamina.'
We teased each other about our respective performances. I told him he needed to work on his fingering skills and he told me I needed to be more creative with my dirty talk.
'What's wrong with 'Fuck Mummy'?' I complained.
'Nothing. Nothing at all. It's a perfectly acceptable form of dirty talk. I love hearing you say it. Maybe...'
'Maybe what?' I sniggered.
'Maybe talk about my dick more...'
I laughed out loud.
'I would, but it's got a big enough head already.'
We cuddled and swapped our laughter for kisses. This was almost my favourite part of this. How we held our bodies so tightly afterwards. How our juices pooled together in a cold spot between our bodies. How free we were. This made me think of Mark and I mentioned to James about my plan with the bike rides. Unsurprisingly, he approved.
I talked about the other location closer to home which intrigued him or perhaps it was the prospect of doing this somewhere residential. Not in the confines of the city or the guest bedroom of our own home. The bungalow would be our secret incest safe house. The last refuge we could turn to to securely practice our dark art.
'I can't believe...' he said.
'Believe what?'
'That you're taking up cycling for me.'
'It's actually not so bad. I didn't think I would enjoy it as much as I did.'
'Oh, so you actually do want to go for long ride when we head out?'
'I didn't say that, wiseguy,' I laughed.
'God, Mum...' he whispered.
'What?' I asked.
'The way your mind works...you think of everything.'
'Or try to at least. This is not exactly a commonly accepted activity we are indulging in here I hope you realise,'
'No...but it's amazing, isn't it? I think...part of it is that you're an incredibly beautiful woman, Mum.'
'And the other part?'
'You know...'
'Yes, I know. It's so...delicious.'
We discussed the cycling plans and how we could stagger a few trips in over the coming weeks. I agreed to pay for the bungalow though I would need to check the duration of the lets. Ideally we would be looking to use it over summer. I pulled it up on my phone and showed James. He seemed to like it though I'm sure he would have been quite happy to fuck me in a woodshed if that was also an option.
'We can save time on showers as well. He'll expect us to be sweaty after a ride,' he posited.
'Yes, but will he expect us to smell of each other's cum as well?'
'I mean...I really hope he doesn't know what mine smells like.'
I grabbed the pillow and caught him round the head with it. He squealed and chased me off the bed. We ran naked around the flat, giggling like schoolchildren. He caught me and carried me off to bed. He threw me down and watched as I spread myself for him. I looked down at his cock as it rose up. I got on all fours and crawled towards him like a cat. I lay down on the bed and turned over. I dangled my head over the edge.
'Did you submit the holiday requests like I told you to?'
He burst out laughing and pumped his cock.
'What's so funny?' I asked.
'You are, Mum. Lying there. On your back. Inviting me to fuck your face. And then asking me such a boring question.'
'It's not boring! I'm just thinking about you. If you don't want other opportunities to fuck my face then fine!'
He grinned and placed his cock over my face.
'Don't worry, Mum. I won't ever miss an opportunity.
He placed the head against my lips and they parted to allow him in. His hands held onto my collar bone as he squeezed himself into me. I gagged as his shaft descended into my throat. I snorted phlegm and coughed. First he had choked my pussy and now he was choking my throat. I gagged again and he released me. He pulled out and I spat up cum and saliva. I tried to wipe it away but he grabbed my hand and held me down. It dribbled down my mouth and over my face.
He held my cheeks as he re-entered me. This time he went slower. I'm not sure if it was possible to have a sensuous face fucking, but that is what it was. He stroked my hair and whispered to me as he drew his cock in and out of my mouth. I slid my tongue over his cock as I fingered myself. My eyes streamed at the heat of his dick. It seemed to radiate out of my mouth like a hot coal.
Little by little he forced more of himself into me. I marked the distance by the progress of his balls. At the start they would plop against my forehead. As he grew more adventurous they slid up over my eyelashes and then finally settled on my nostrils. It was like a slow asphyxiation. His cock compressing my throat and his balls suffocating my nostrils. My fingers flew in and out of my cunt as I watched. My brain not caring for oxygen. Just the essential pleasures of his flesh.
I came again and my moans were lost in his length. My arms flopped to the sides unable to function. He pulled out and dragged me upright. He brushed my hair back into place and kissed my forehead. I wiped his cum from my face and kissed him. I leaned back and lifted my legs up.
He approached me and put his chest against my ankles. He looked down at my raw cunt and plunged himself in. I lifted my head up to watch him fuck me. His tensile cock marking my pussy with its girth. Making her his. I cradled his face in my hands and studied him as he moved his hips faster.
'Don't stop, James. Never stop. Promise me you will never stop fucking me,'
He moaned in response.
'Fuck me, James. I love it so much. Mummy loves it when you fuck her.'
He grunted and slammed into me even harder. My body creaking under the force of his blows. My flesh stung under his onslaught as I urged him on. Harder. Faster. Heavier. More. He put his head against my ankle as if for support. I was tiring him out. I was tiring my little boy out.
'More, James. Fuck Mummy more.'
He responded and gritted his teeth as he barrelled into me. The sweat dripped off him and onto my face. I tried to catch it in my mouth. He grabbed my thighs and pushed them back even further. He pushed his cock harder, trying to reach even deeper. Another orgasm built in me. I screamed as he exploded in me once again.
He collapsed onto me. A hulking slab of flesh and sweat. I held him close as his cock continued spurting cum into my pussy. He whimpered and his head fell against my breasts. Unreal. It was even longer until we said anything. I suspect it took a few minutes for our souls to re-enter our bodies.
I stroked his head as he nibbled at my breasts. His spent cock lay over my stomach. The tip drooled a rivulet of cum that collected in my belly button. I don't know how long we lay there for. Nothing else mattered. Not the thought of a worried Mark or scandalised neighbours in the flat next door.
Eventually James got up to go to the bathroom. I checked my phone. It has half 7. We had been here for three hours. It seemed simultaneously longer and shorter. It was not too late for Mark to start asking questions. He had sent a text at 7 but that was normal for him to check when I was due back. I looked at the timestamp on the text and knew that James had been inside me at the time.
I replied saying I would be back in 45 minutes and would pick James up on the way and not to worry about dinner for either of us. He pinged back an acknowledgement. James emerged from the bathroom. He stood by the bed and ran his fingers through his hair. He seemed rather proud of his handiwork. Clothes strewn everywhere, his naked mother ravished to within an inch of her life. Yes, a good night's work, his face said.
I got up and slapped his arse as I walked towards the bathroom. I ran the shower with a hint of regret. I didn't want to wash James away. I wanted his sex to coat me. To linger like a wonderful musk I could scrape off and inhale. I showered quickly and James followed suit. We changed into our work clothes and tided the place quickly. I had the let until the following evening but decided to drop the key off with the concierge as we left now.
It was a decent enough place, it had served its purpose for now, but there were better options out there I knew. I pulled my bags of lingerie out of the wardrobe and handed them to an inquisitive James.
'Stay out!' I hissed as I slapped his hand.
'Hey!' he said with a look of injury.
'You'll have plenty of time to look soon enough,' I winked at him.
We left the flat, me clutching my work bag and him holding the lingerie. After dropping the key off, we headed to the car and began the drive home. I wound down all the windows to try to catch the scent of summer. We were quiet on the way back, but not an awkward silence at all No, it was the silence of satisfaction.
We got home and I opened the door. As I stepped in and saw Mark I felt a tremor of panic. I felt exposed and naked. It was so obvious where James and I had been for the past few hours. The sudden dread that it was so clear we had been joined in sexual congress and Mark would fly into a terrible rage and attack both me and James before calling the police.
I was sure that the flush of ecstasy was still visible across my chest and in my cheeks. My eyes must still be puffy from my tears of pleasure as James stuffed his cock down my throat. The smell. Surely it lingered, a confection of our cum distilled only by the accompanying sweat and saliva. The sheer exhaustion in my our thoroughly-fucked bodies. Was it not obvious?
But I greeted him with a kiss and there was nothing. Just the same benign grin and placid expression. Mark was not the type of man prone to anger or fits of conniption. But every man had his breaking point and it was hard to imagine him retaining his composure if he discovered his wife had been sleeping with his son. As insults and injuries came it was hard to speculate on a more grievous one.
There was dinner laid out on the table. Like a good husband he had ignored my request to forget about food and prepared some anyway. James and I ate in silence as Mark read the paper at the table. I should have felt guilty or even slightly ashamed. But as I looked at my son sitting opposite me with the same grin and glowing complexion I only felt a happy tingle in my pussy and a soaring in my heart.