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RejectionIsButAMemory
Title: Rejection Is But A Memory
Keywords: mF, teen, mdom, inc, mom, son
Author: Caesar
Email: caesar@intimate.net
Rejection Is But A Memory
by Caesar, copyright 2001-2002
$Revision: 1.2 $ $Date: 2002/04/15 14:07:27 $
When I attempted to open my eyes the room spun so fast I had to close
them again.
Trying to sit up caused a wave of nausea to threaten my existence and
I had to lay back down.
Every inch of my body hurt, including my fingers and toe nails!
How could I drink so much last night?
Oh god, make the morning sun go away, it is burning my eyes through my
eyelids!
Was that tribal drums pulsating through my head?
Oh god!
Reaching with one pain-filled hand, I reached over to the side of the
bed... empty. Thank god! I remember propositioning some guy last
night... his hands yanking my skirt and off...!
Think... last night... think!
It was my birthday... my girlfriend, Jenny, making fun of my boring
life... loud music... and dancing with so many guys...!
I quickly rolled over in the bed and squinted just a brief second to
confirm... my room, thank god!
When was the last time I got so drunk? Sixteen... no fifteen when my
sister, her friend and I drank for the first time. Did it really feel
this bad back then?
I'm alone - ironic that I actually am thankful for that. I should be
used to being alone... in bed... six years after the divorce.
Think...!
I remember drinks... all sizes and so many colours. At first they
tasted horrid and burnt my throat... after the second hour it no
longer bothered me and I drank even more.
Some guy suck his tongue down my throat and felt up my ass as we
danced to music that was too loud to even distinguish individual words
in the lyrics. And... I let him! So embarrasing... I remember
pressing myself... grinding... into that faceless man's leg!
I tried to hear around the pounding in my head, in my ears, to see if
someone was in the next room - the bathroom.
Nothing.
At least I think there was no one close by. Perhaps my fear of
bringing a lost puppy home, in the form of a man, had not happened?
Then my best friend... yes, the same that poured all those drinks down
my throat... pulling the guy off me... thank god!
Jenny and I danced... and even drunk we were good... were
watching us... my friend was rubbing herself against me... kissing
me... her tongue licking the sweat between my clevage... what?
Nothing until the back of the taxi... Jenny laughing... telling the
driver to keep an eye on the back seat... her mouth finding mine
again... her hand slipping up between my covered
thighs... under my skirt and into... oh god!
I remember grabbing her wrist with both my hands and shoving her in
and out of me... how many fingers had she used?
I truly have no idea.
Her tongue in my mouth the whole time... in and out... the taxi drive
lasting forever... me praying silently to orgasm, the first in nearly
a year, the first by another hand in nearly eight years!
How could I have felt such rapture with my own girlfriend... who I had
known for nearly twenty years? Believe me when I say such a thing has
never happened before... never even dreamt of such a thing...! Well,
at least not on purpose.
Then I was stumbling through the grass to my home and the front door
seemed to get further and further away. I must have fell... more than
once... laughter behind me... and turning to see Jenny stumble from
the back door to the front of the taxi... wearing nothing but her
black bra and black heels... the leering driver's white teeth as he
watched her slip in next to him.
Then they drove away... leaving me on the cold drew-wet
grass... feeling so lonely... so horny.
I must not have orgasmed... could not have. A single orgasm has
always eased the the pressure for hours... and drunk as I was, I would
have woken up on the lawn rather than in my own bed!
Minutes... hours... how long did it take me to crawl to the front
door... up the front of the door... my god...!
Joey!
Him holding me like a baby in his arms... my head on his
shoulder... his strong long strides causing me to feel nauseas for the
first time.
I was safe... home. In the arms of a who I trusted impeccably to
take care of me.
But the loneliness could not be solved by being home... the throbbing
between my legs... the liquid feeling between my thighs dispelling my
nausea.
Oh my god... I began to kiss Joey's neck.
Small at first... but quickly turning to strong long wet
licks... sucking... his skin smooth but hard with muscle beneath.
I was whimpering into his neck, even as he carried me into my own
room... so helpless... so horny... "fuck mommy"...!
The pain in my head seemed to suddenly double with the memory.
Did he...? God damn... think... remember!
Setting me down on the bed so gently... softly... in total
control... I loved him so much... Jenny called him my 'Nordic God' and
he looked so good...!
The fingers of both my hands were locked behind his neck... not
letting him pull away... his ice blue eyes looking into mine... "use
me"...!
Then he relented... he must have, because he was too strong for me to
pull down... my mouth opened and my tongue slipped out to seek
his... but just before our lips touched he bent his head and slipped
away.
Moaning in desire... rolling onto my hip and rubbing my thighs
together... almost begging, "mommy needs you"!
A hard unrelenting hand grabbed one of my tiny ankles... my high heel
gently pulled off... but he does not do the other... and I begin to
cry... I had left my shoe in the taxi... while Jenny...!
The humiliation.
Strong hands gently rolling me onto my stomach... fingers fumbling
with the button to my wool skirt... then the loud sound of the short
zipper being undone echoing in my memory.
"Stop moving mom!" He meant my thighs, I was rubbing them together
like a horny little grasshopper.
His hands rolling me back onto my back... me feeling like a little
girl about to be fucked by her dream man... his eyes ignoring my
own... he was embarrassed!
Strong and steady... my sexiest skirt is pulled past the width of my
hips... down my legs. He is going to fuck me!
I felt such joy... a man... the only in the world I could
trust... the I had known his entire life and one who has never
failed me... my man! My 'Nordic God'!
Now he is staring at me... god I must have looked a mess...
wet from the grass outside, my hair in disarray... my plain white
panties soaking!
I can't help squirming under that steel gaze... my body physically
needing his power between my legs.
Again his hands are upon me... he gently lifts each leg to roll my
soiled off. His touch is magical... I ache for him.
When my sweater is pulled off... Joey being so tender, caring, as if I
were a child... ironic that our positions have reversed this
way... his eyes looking at my sexist bra, black lace and very
sheer... my dark nipples hard and pointing for him.
Standing at the foot of the bed... my darling son gazes at
me... looking at every inch of me... looking a very long time at my
breasts... at my hard nipples!
How proud a I was at that moment.
How so very excited... my thighs again rubbing roughly together in
anticipation... my sex actually feeling like a sea of my lust.
At no other time did I feel so desireable... so much like a
woman... so horny!
Then... I remember it like it was only moments ago... my beautiful son
turned and stalked out of my room... his hand hitting the light switch
on the way out... and I lay in the darkness... stunned.
I cried myself to sleep... feeling humiliated and pitiful.
-*-
For hours I lay, pained in the abuse of alcohol and humiliated in my
actions with my own child. And then there was my best friend, less
innocent perhaps, but still extremely embarrassing and I can not
imagine the next phone call with her.
And if there had been anyone we knew at that dance hall...! Yet, that
was unlikely, as we were at least ten years than the average
age. Two women looking for a good time... well, Jenny seemed to
have found it with the taxi driver. I imagine her morning may even be
worse than my own - having to face her husband!
The sun had risen past my window pane and thus, allowed a reprieve
which allowed me to open my eyes - abet, ever so slowly.
My room, just as I had left it yesterday - my birthday. Outside, a
beautiful spring morning.
Yet it wasn't a very nice morning at all.
I felt like warm chunky shit and I had attempted the most disgusting
of acts with my only child.
Is that not enough?
Well, add to that, humiliating myself in public and committing
acts with my best friend.
I'm sure there is more - just that the alcoholic haze hid all other
memories. Perhaps I should be thankful?
What was more humiliating; my unsuccessful attempt at seduction with
my only child or that he had refused me?
-*-
My home was quiet when I finally found the resolve to go down the
stairs to the kitchen. Joey must have gone out with friends - thank
god.
The coffee might have brewed forever and the Tylenol's taken their own
sweet time - but finally I sat at the breakfast table and drank the
vile brew while staring at a spot on the tiled floor. All the while
wishing that I could turn back the clock one day.
I was a miserable wrench.
-*-
It only hit me when I lay in my darkened bathroom, lit only with a
candle, and soaking in my tub did I wonder about the night before.
Why did Joey not take what I had offered him?
Trying to look at it coldly; I am still an attractive woman, I was
very passionate and even begging for him, and I was drunk. Even in my
mental haze, I remember those ice blue eyes staring at my covered
breasts - hungry for the dark points that lay beneath my sheer black
lace bra.
I know he desires me - and not just in last nights look. There are
the looks whenever I bent over, his eyes always drawn to my chest or
ass, and of course my soiled I found in his room at least a
year before. I tried to ignore it, passing it off to juvenile
hormones.
Yet it did fuel a little of my own fantasies, as much as I tried to
deny it, and thus what took alcohol to reveal my rawest desire. That
my son found me pleasant enough to lust, was a boost to my ego and
helped me pass through the time of my darkest loneliness.
Now, the next day, I wished that my 'Nordic God' had taken me the
night before, used my body to satisfy his own desires - I certainly
could have used it. It was a startling revelation, and makes his
denial all the more painful.
Right then, laying in slowly decreasing agony my sex throbbed
insistently. It wanted him still!
-*-
Joey did, finally, come home - late at night, as I lay beneath a quilt
on the couch watching an black and white movie.
It is what I do when I'm feeling blue.
The back door was unlocked, opened, and then relocked. A few minutes
later, my tall son stood glowing from the television, staring at
its contents.
Why did you deny me honey?
Without looking my way, "How are you feeling mom?"
I groaned for effect, "Miserable."
A little smirk, "You were pretty drunk."
"I was completely pickled."
A grunt that was supposed to be a laugh. A lengthy pause and then the
question I know he very much wanted to ask, "How much do you remember
about last night mom?"
"Only small patches of things." I was not looking at the any
longer but at my tall beautiful son.
Finally the question, "Do you remember going to bed last night?"
"I think so... yes."
His head turned and in the dim room we shared a lengthy look and I
knew that my silence was thunderous. I should be angry, apologetic,
something - and we both knew it.
Joey moved to the foot of the couch and lifting both my feet, bundled
within the quilt, he sat down with my legs from the calf down upon his
hard strong thighs. One hand was casually draped over my knees and he
starred at the while I starred at him.
I had so many questions but found no voice to ask them.
His denial of me the night before was the most painful of humiliations
and now that I realized, or accepted, my lust for my own son I felt
like a homeless wench looking for a empty garbage bin to sleep for the
night.
He asked, without taking his eyes from the screen, "Would you like me
to rub your feet?"
Would I! "Certainly honey."
Fumbling through the quilt, he found my legs and threw the covering up
above my knees. And though I was wearing a huge tee-shirt and cotton
panties, the quilt hid all. My small feet had small cotton socks
covering them, to keep warm, but he quickly pulled each off.
I only watched him silently.
His eyes glued to the television he took one weary foot and began to
slowly rub and squeeze. It was very amateurish but thrilling to feel
his big hard hands upon me - trying to please me - and so it felt
wonderful. "Hum...that feels great honey."
When he switched, he dropped the completed foot onto his lap and my
heel hit what could only be a long rod of iron in his jeans. He felt
it as well, because his hands paused on the other foot and I was aware
of him holding his breath.
That lasted only a minute before he resumed rubbing my feet,
attempting to ignore that which I considered majestic and very
noticeable.
This was my son - the teenager that stole my soiled from the
laundry... and I was not so innocent to imagine he needed them for
anything less then to fuel his fantasies. He has looked on me often
enough with hunger and desire - and last nights open gaze... a shiver
ran through me at the memory.
My foot, still resting against his crotch, pulled back only a few
centimetres so that the length of that hard rod was along the in-step
of my foot. Again my 'Nordic God' froze and held his breath. I
didn't, I began to rub my foot back and forth along that hardness -
gauging the size, imagining the shape.
I pulled the other foot from his hand and slipped it down to the
first. My naked feet moved back and forth, rubbing along both sides
of his maleness.
I watched him the whole time, his eyes had closed and he seemed to
have trouble breathing.
I don't care what society says, this was right - he was right for me.
From my own loins I had produced the perfect for me - one that I
can trust as well as love. The single person in this world I can
trust enough to give myself totally - and for this girl, that was no
small feat.
Finally, with me still rubbing him, Joey opened his eyes and looked
into my own. "Mom?"
Innocently, but I could not stop the small impish smile upon my lips,
"Yes honey?"
With difficultly, "What are you doing?"
Without a pause, "Showing you how much I love you." Silly boy.
"It feels good mom."
I know, his reactions were obvious, and I was thrilled - he desired
me. Last night was not my imagination, all these years of thinking
him upon me, stealing my panties, all validated. He had denied
me last night - I was a mess anyways - but it was time to atone for
that mistake. "I would do anything to make you feel good honey."
His eyes widened at that comment and watched me intently as I yanked
the quilt from my body and lifted my long tee-shirt to my navel. Even
in this darkened room, the glowing television was enough to reveal my
white cotton and his eyes were glued to that spot.
I can't believe how excited I was getting - never before had the
heights of my pleasure risen without some help in the form of a
finger, tongue, or that long forgotten touch, a cock. If there was
more light in the room, I'm sure the white cotton between my legs
would reveal its darkened dampness to my son's intent gaze.
When I said 'anything' I meant it - he could have told me to hump the
carpet and I would have done it. His silence surprised me for only a
brief moment but I reminded myself that my son was still a teenager,
and sexual aggression from his own was something I am sure he
has very little experience.
Taking one foot from him, I set it against his strong shoulder, I
spread my thighs enough to slip my own hand along the cotton over my
vagina. Even the feeling of my own hand, beneath the watchful eyes of
my 'Nordic God', was a delight. I rubbed my covered with long
slow strokes, in time with my rubbing foot as I watched him watch me.
It was a magical moment - like a fantasy. A dream.
"Mom?"
"Yes honey?" I held my breath - here it comes - a command, his
desires revealed, to pleasure him. It could be more kinky as this
near-innocent divorced mother-of-one has ever thought of and I would
do it - for him. But what I pray for, what I wanted most, was for him
to be inside me! I cared not if it was in my mouth, my or even
in my virgin ass. I just needed to feel him move his cock in and out
of my body - feel its boiling seed flooding my depths!
Two strong big hands grasped each slim ankle and gently lifted my feet
from him. What did he want me to do for him? Oh god, it was a
thrilling moment!
He set both feet flat onto the couch between us, my knees bent but
spread as wide as I could manage so that I could continue to rub
myself.
Joey then stood up effortlessly, standing there above me looking down
with the same gaze as the night before. And like last night, it
caused a fire to burn in my soul and my body began to ache for him!
Then my darling beautiful god turn and quickly strode from the room.
-*-
Humiliation does not seem to give justice to how I felt after that
moment. Strike two.
How could he leave me - I certainly felt his pleasure throbbing
beneath the soles of my feet. And then there was that look - and
though I may be delusional, that look was nothing but raw pure lust.
We never saw each other, though I heard him about our home, for that
day or the next. I went to work feeling lower than at any point since
my divorce, though I had physically recovered from my birthday.
I growled at my secretary and so it quickly got around to leave me
alone. Most of my co-workers thinking my foul mood was the effect of
ageing another year.
The next day, Jenny called. I could hear her embarrassment even as
she asked to go to lunch with me. I took a long deep breath and
agreed - though what happened between us was embarrassing, it was
minor compared to what I had done with my son... twice!
"I'm sorry about Saturday night?" She could barely look at me and a
malicious part of me was thankful I was not the only one feeling
miserable.
"You remembered?"
She nodded, her face bright red. Then she blurted out, as if to get
it off her soul quickly, "It was all so thrilling... the crowd
roaring... both of us looking so good... but I never planned...?"
I reached across the table and took her hand gently, the touch
surprising her.
Her eyes catching my own, and they held tears in them. "I don't want
to our friendship."
"You didn't." She saw my soft smile and it seemed to calm her
greatly. I could not tell her that I had done much worse than she
had, that night and the next day as well.
It was not verbalized, but we are both adults - we knew there had to
be something there for what happened between us to transpire. Hell, I
had attempted to seduce my son because in my heart I desired him.
My eyes began to well up with tears as well.
Her hand squeezed me, "Oh baby", she often called me 'baby', "I'm so
sorry! I never meant to you."
"Its OK Jenny." I pulled my hand back and used the cloth napkin to dry
my eyes. If she only knew what a low class slut I was, why I was
truly crying she may not be so sympathetic.
Looking around the busy restaurant, "Do you want to skip lunch and
talk for a while?"
I nodded, my pain still showing on my face, as my best friend lead me
out.
-*-
"All I did with him was give him a blow job."
I was shocked, but a little thankful that Jenny had not gone 'all the
way' with the taxi driver. My hazy mind can not even conjure the
drivers face or approximate age.
We both started to laugh hysterically.
Finally, "I lost a heel in the back of the cab."
She started to laugh again, "I forgot my panties!" I laughed along
with her.
"What about...?" Her husband of fifteen years.
Her laughing disintegrated, "He was sleeping when I got home... but I
think he is suspicious that something isn't right."
We were sitting in a secluded grove in the park, holding hands and
talking together like conspirators.
"I have not been so drunk since I was a kid."
"You were pretty wasted." Wasn't she? At least I had alcohol as an
excuse... the first time at least.
The seconds turned to minutes and the awkwardness grew between us and
I feared that what happened had indeed harmed our friendship.
Then Jenny leaned over and pressed her lips to my own. It wasn't a
kiss so much as a tentative exploration of feelings. I simply sat
still and stared at her in surprise.
She whispered, "Don't be angry with me baby." Her lips again touched
my own, the top of a slim tongue pressing between to fondle the front
of my teeth.
Never, not counting my birthday, had she acted so aggressive, so out
of character. Yet, I knew what it was like to desire and not be
reciprocated - to be humiliated in its denial. I too had attempted a
second time.
I kissed her back.
She is my best friend after all! I could not turn her down and
humiliate her how I had been.
And besides, if my son did not want me, and I had had very little luck
with since my divorce, why not accept the one other person that
loved me and desired me? Did it really matter that that person was a
woman? I found her attractive, and had the odd lustful dream about us
in the past - it could work.
Our kisses were getting passionate - with mouths wide, tongues
duelling and saliva running. I had not been kissed like this, again
discounting my birthday, since the early years of my failed marriage.
Her hands were squeezing both of my large round - Jenny, like
my son Joey, seemed to enjoy that part of me - possessively.
I allowed my hands to squeeze her thighs up to her hips. If she had
been standing I would have felt her tiny round ass - always in
contrast to my own wide load, and the part of her that I had always
found her most attractive feature. Up to this moment, it had only
been normal innocent female comparisons - yet everything seemed to
change once we act upon our desires.
Finally, like teenagers sneaking out to 'make out', we broke apart -
both panting and wiggling in frustration. Our eyes locked and she saw
my submission but not my unfettered desire.
"Remember the hotel down by the airport... the big brick one?"
Where was she going with this, "Yes?"
"I will be there this Saturday at eight o'clock... waiting for you."
I nodded, understanding.
Reluctantly she added, "If your not there... I will understand."
I nodded again, understanding a little better this time.
At that moment I had no idea what my intentions were - but I knew I
could do much worse, and in the case of my ex-husband, I had, than
this loving caring sexy woman.
She leaned in and we shared a long gentle kiss - a kiss of goodbye, a
kiss as a promise of much more to come.
Time to get back to work, and we both laughed awkwardly as we walked
through the park back toward downtown.
-*-
The week was odd - between Joey and I attempting to miss each other to
Jenny doing the same, but for different reasons.
My friend, and possibly my new lover, knew me well enough to give me
time to stew in my decisions. Be they to rendezvous with her at the
hotel, to continue only as a friend or perhaps to part ways.
I had not yet made a choice, but at the very least, I could not simply
dump her as a friend.
Was I vulnerable after my humiliating attempts at seduction at my own
son - was that why I was not disgusted at the offer of a
affair?
-*-
I bathed and pampered myself in my private bathroom for nearly two
hours. I haven't felt this happy in months... years maybe.
A decision was made.
Someone desired me, needed me - and I was going to them. It was
wrong, wanting your child, and so I had to let that desire go - to
purge it with the abandonment of a new lover. So, Jenny was the
medicine to cure me from my incestuous desires.
Since I knew my clothing would not be worn long after arriving at the
hotel, and I did not want to raise suspicions within my son if I saw
him on the way out of our home, I only dressed in a skirt and sweater
I often wore to work. Conservative and a little matronly. And the
undergarments, normal white cotton - the majority of my lingerie
drawer was exactly the same.
I laughed at times as I prepared, slipping out on a Saturday night to
meet a secret lover. Knowing that she would do anything to make me
happy - did that not sound familiar?
My itched the whole day, but I ignored it. Tonight, the first in
oh so very long, it would get scratched properly! Jenny knew me
possibility better than any other person alive, and as such I doubted
not she knew how to pleasure me as well.
It was a secret rendezvous, that I understood - I was not going to
ruin Jenny's marriage as that other woman, or is it women, did to my
own. We would simply be best friends... and more!
My thoughts soared with the possibilities.
-*-
Joey stood at the foot of the stairs, as if waiting for me. "Hi mom."
"Honey." He had a strange look upon his face, but I passed it off to
this being the first words we had shared since that failed humiliation
the weekend before.
I strode down the stairs carefully, because of the heels for the most
part, and I realized my son was checking me out. His eyes alternating
between what leg was showing beneath the hem of my skirt and the small
bouncing my steps produced to my breasts.
A grip took my heart and squeezed, please don't humiliate me again, I
silently prayed to whatever god could hear.
In only a few seconds I stood before him, our eyes level as I stood on
the final step and was wearing heels. Before I could ask him to move,
he slipped a ribboned box up between us.
A present. "What on earth?"
"For the prettiest woman I know."
I could not stop the blushing of my cheeks as I took the box. An
innocent comment, on his part, of course.
"Open it now mom."
I looked between him and the thin rectangular box. Joey looking so
much like he was five years again, attempting to please me. It
took my heart and made me feel guilty at the evil of my desires.
"Lets go into the living room and I'll open it there."
"OK mom."
He stood aside and I walked slowly to the living room, trying to guess
by shaking the gift what it could possibly be. I knew he was
following and I knew his eyes were on my ass - heels always pronounced
my backside and when walking caused such a movement.
His eyes, though, were something I could handle - I think - as they
have looked upon me with desire for so very long. Perhaps not so
openly as they did since my birthday, but I suppose that his open
leering is payment for my bad judgement.
Sitting across from me on the floor, I sat on the couch with the
present on my knees.
What could it be?
I could not be my birthday gift - he giving me that horrid pottery
bowl and a sweater the morning of my birthday. It had to be a present
to make up for our awkward week. And here I should be giving presents
to him - spoiling him for my rotten parenting skills.
"Oh honey, whatever is it for?"
"Just open it mom." He looked pleased with himself, so whatever it
was, he was very anxious for me to open it.
So I did
The non-descript box opened to reveal several small silky items the
likes of which I have not seen in years. At least not in this home.
I held up one, a single thigh-high - white with a lace
elastic at the top so they did not need a garter. My eyes looked at
the length of it in horror.
Through the sheer silk I could see my son's happiness turn serious as
he watched my face.
I had to control my surprise, my bewilderment, my questions - to not
harm my child more than I had done already. Two failed attempts to
seduce him, and the had to be confused.
Right?
I was nearly out the door to meet my new lover, Jenny, for hours of
sexual bliss. And I wanted to go - truly I did!
His gift, I told myself over and over, had to be innocent in its
intent. I am not sure I could subject myself to another humiliating
attempt at seducing the only I could consider loving in a romantic
way.
Is that why I was going to meet Jenny, because no other would live
up to my expectations of my only child? How warped can one person be?
Look who has finally getting a backbone now? Me, sitting here with a
gift that I would have been thrilled to receive a week ago but only
thinking about escaping to my new lover so that I can protect my son
from my own desires.
Joey's gift was innocent right?
I mean, sure, he has to be messed up a little - but the gift was still
from a teenage boy. Even if he thinks he desires me - he can not have
been thinking with his head... I mean his brain, I am sure this gift
is straight from his head!
"Uh... thanks honey."
He seemed eager, "Do you like it mom?"
I nodded and swallowed thickly, "Its lovely." It was. I haven't
owned or worn such finery since my wedding day. The only pair of
stockings I had owned up till last weekend were rather and not
nearly as fine as the ones my son gave me.
"Well... put it on mom!"
My heart skipped a beat.
My god!
I had to get out of there, to get to the hotel and to Jenny - or god
help me... I may succumb to the growing desire that was building
within me. "I have to go honey."
Slipping the back into the box, I closed the lid hoping to
escape my own desires. Standing up, with Joey following directly
behind, I dropped the box onto the couch and quickly moved to leave.
My heart was thumping so strong that I'm sure it reverberated my
chest.
Just as I reached the door to the garage Joey came up behind me and
pressed an arm past my ear to hold the door closed. In my ear he
softly ordered, "Go get the box and go up to your room mom, and put my
gift on."
Joey's voice was alien - strong and commanding - never having talked
to me in such a way before.
His hand slipped between us and I felt him grasp one of my ass cheeks
through my clothing - it caused me to squeal in surprise but I never
turned from the door.
What surprised me more was the confidence and dominance in his voice -
he knew that I needed him, having begged like a common tramp the week
before, and now he was using my desire against me.
Why had he denied me twice last weekend? The first time, maybe
because I was a drunk sweaty mess. But the second, clean if but a
little under the weather from being hung over?
Two hands inched my skirt up to my waist. Still I said nothing, my
breathing coming quicker and my eyes closed as if to hide from the
reality of what was going on, as my son grasped the elastic leg holes
of my cotton pantie and yanked upward - effectively giving me a
wedgie. I squealed in surprise and other than a quick jerk onto my
toes, stood silent.
Now both his large strong hands groped me roughly, yanking, squeezing
and rubbing my soft ass. A has not touched the skin of my bottom
in so long, it felt like I was a teenager again being naughty in my
parents house.
Joey leaned forward and whispered, "Mother?"
My voice was not very controlled and my response came out more of a
squeak, "Yes?"
"Did you really mean it when you said you would 'do anything' to make
me feel good?"
My heart was thumping violently but my breath had stopped working.
Did I mean what I said?
In a fantasy world where there was no repercussions for such a
relationship - yes I meant it. Was I true to myself when I said my
'Nordic God' was the only for me - one that I would do anything to
pleasure?
"Yes." The answer came out of my mouth before I had a chance to
actually consider all the ramifications of such an admission.
He pawed my bottom for some time before his hands slid up to my waist,
beneath my skirt and, god help me, to cup my big round breasts. After
a few squeezes he moved his hand back down until his thumb and
forefinger, on each hand, pinched each nipple through my thin cotton
bra.
Joey squeezed harder and harder, slowly increasing the pressure until
I was gasping in pain and my knees seemed ready to fail me. No one
had me before, especially in such a sexual way.
"Will you go put on your gift mom?"
Without a pause I was able to respond through the pain, "Yes."
He released my nipples and gently stroked them as a tongue licked my
ear.
I was his and we both knew it - his instant ability to dominant me
came as a surprise both from my reaction and especially from his new
attitude.
My breathing was short with quick pants and I knew the crotch of my
panties must be soaked. No one, and I mean no one else in this world
could have treated me like this and gotten such a reaction. I would
do anything for my 'Nordic God', allow him any desire of me.
Suddenly, just as I was starting to moan from the touch of his hands
upon my covered breasts, his hands pulled from my body and he stepped
back. "Turn around mom."
Attempting to regain control of my breathing, I slowly turned and
looked down at his feet, facing my son as instructed. I considered
lifting my eyes to the bulge half ways from his eyes to his feet - but
lacked the will to risk Joey catching me.
"Hold your skirt up to your waist mom." Without needing to look, I
again bundled it about my waist and held it in two hands. "Go get the
present I gave you, go to your room and come back to the living room
after you put on." He looked down at his watch, "You have three
minutes."
A few seconds of silence before he barked in a surprisingly loud
voice, "Go!"
After jumping at the surprise of his command, I effectively ran as
fast as my heels would allow me on the slippery hardwood floor.
-*-
I felt foolish but my heart thumped as if so very excited - as I
walked slowly, and as quietly as I could, into the living room. Upon
silk encased feet, I walked around to stand before my son - whom
simply watched me calmly.
My hands were shaking uncontrollably and I grasped my thighs
frequently in a unproductive attempt to still them.
His ice blue eyes looked coldly at me - appraising every inch of my
body as if I were a new sports car. I felt like a rusted
jalopy if anything.
Joey's present had to be expensive and certainly lovely, but it was
created for a younger and thinner woman. I felt extremely foolish,
humiliated even, to stand practically naked before the one I cared
about while he opened viewed my ageing body in this ridicules
lingerie!
The silence was torture - and I felt my thighs and knees start to
quiver, as if cold, smilier to my hands. Could he not just laugh at
me and get it over with, to admit failure in having me pose in such a
obscene outfit.
I desired Joey but I had a real fear of humiliating myself for the
third time - feeling like a coward for not wanting to even attempt
another seduction.
Well, my 'Nordic God' may be doing the work for me.
"Closer mom." A command and not a request - my feet unconsciously
stepped twice toward the couch.
His large strong hand reached out and grasped my outer thigh just
above the knee, feeling silk and my warm smooth soft skin beneath.
Joey's eyes followed his hand.
This was foolish, a grown woman should not be posing in underwear
created for a half her age - before her own son even!
Then I remembered the passion and desire that had filled me only days
before, as I looked upon my own son as a yin to my yang. How humble
to realize that there is a power that can control you - and it took me
getting drunk to discover the desire for my own child. Then the
seduction, and another - both denied. Humiliation and horror at my
actions, willing to do anything to remove my stupidity from my son's
memory.
I was wrong though, that his denial had meant my desire was rejected!
Why else would he dominant me just on the eve of my consummating my
lesbian affair with Jenny - but to take what was earlier offered?
My thoughts returned to the present when I felt a thumb and forefinger
tweaking one nipple - causing it to tighten and enlarge very quickly.
Joey was smirking possessively, comparing my two nipples, one hard the
other soft, through the sheer silk of the teddy. He looked so much
like a teenager with a new toy while I simply felt my venerable age.
That he found pleasure with this ageing woman puzzled and excited me.
As the expected laughter did not materialize - nor did his interest
wain.
No longer did I have alcohol in my system, or feeling hung over and
needful of strong arms to hold me - in fact there was nothing to
hinder my thoughts or fuel my senses - other than reality.
I felt the edge of that mountain of desire I had felt a week before -
it was slowly growing within me, contrary to my dispassionate
thoughts. Inward I watched it grow like a living thing, fearing and
loving it at the same time.
Joey was pulling the white lace edge of the bikini panties, completely
sheer mind you, to the side, exposing my bush for his eyes.
Though I had attempted two seductions in the last days, seeing my most
private area fully exposed felt strange and wonderful. It had to be
the first time, that I remember, that Joey has seen me naked. Only a
few years before, I suspected he was trying to find a way to see me
naked in my private bathroom - but I had decided the effort was
impossible and he was left with looking up my dress while at the
table.
My son leaned forward and squinted directly at my pussy. What? Was
it a wrinkled prune compared to the teen that I knew drooled
over my boy.
Then he leaned the last few centimetres and, god help me, kissed me
softly and with endearing love, directly upon my barely protruding
clitoris.
Well, it was enough to thrill me as I had never been thrilled ever
before. At that second, because of that single gentle action, all my
desire and passion welled up and filled me to capacity - I would do
anything for my son!
He leaned back and lifted his eyes to my own, we shared a long look as
his strong hands held my soft hips and guided me down toward him. It
was timely as it felt as if my quivering knees were about to give out!
I straddled my sons hard thighs and felt his hands slide behind me to
grasp my bare ass beneath my bikini pantie. Our faces were nearly
touching but we dare not blink as we stared deeply in the soul of the
other. In fact I was barely breathing but my heart was pounding so
fast that it felt as if it would jump out of my chest.
Then, finally, his instruction, "Kiss me mom."
God yes!
I closed my eyes, perhaps to ignore my parental common-sense, leaned
forward and kissed my son with all the passion and love that I could
muster. In retrospect, it had to be the best kiss I have ever given
anyone.
It lasted nearly ten minutes.
When I leaned back I realized the spaghetti straps of the teddy had
been pushed from my shoulders so that the garment fell below my chest
- my large heaving were fully exposed to my son's lust filled
eyes.
My nipples were so hard, they hurt!
Joey leaned down and took one hard thrusting nipple between his moist
lips and upon me firmly. I felt my brown teat draw deep down
into his throat as a wave of pleasure ran directly from my nipple down
between my legs. Both my hands came up and cupped his messy
hair, lovingly caressed his head as he suckled upon me.
As a child he had nourishment from my body and a part of me
wished I still had milk to give to my son. It was a maternal need,
that quickly disappeared.
His lips moved to my other and the pleasure was duplicated.
I would swear my have never given me such a response as at
this moment, with my own child!
I would do anything for this man! I had been right, he was the
only one for me. No affair could equal the passion in a
single kiss with Joey. I could only love one person in this world,
submit myself totally and for any purpose to that person.
My son lifted his lips from my saliva covered nipple and looked up at
me, with our mingled saliva coating his chin, "Take it out mom." He
sounded anxious... the fever of our passion was consuming him as well.
I would do anything but what did he want me to take out?
Joey sat with his back onto the couch, his eyes looking into my own,
waiting. A hand came up and grasped one wet nipple between thumb and
forefinger and squeezed.
Hot pain rushed from my breast, but strangely did not overwhelm my
pleasure, and I gasped out, "...what...?" His hand dropped from my
pained breast.
"What are you mom?"
My mind was a cloud of pleasure and pain, love and passion - I had no
idea what he was asking. As a response I shook my head while my mouth
moved without a sound coming out. Fear welled up within me as I saw
this encounter turning into a disaster, a third strike.
He gave me another chance, "What are you willing do do mom?"
I knew this - having felt the joy of it overwhelm my soul in the last
minutes. Hoarsely, as if talking in a foreign language, "Anything."
Smirking again, and there was no doubt in his eyes that I was his. My
son owned me body and soul - and I accepted this fact, found pleasure
in it actually.
"Take my cock out." How ridicules could I feel, what else could I
take out? Blood rushed to my face in anticipation and embarrassment.
I pushed myself back to sit upon the edge of my son's knees and
reached for his belt. My eyes had naturally looked down and I saw the
wet denim over the zipper and crotch of my son's jeans and I
felt surprise in knowing that I was witnessing an effect of my
excitement. The quantity of which startled me. Something else
stalled me, the obvious bulge of my son beneath his pants.
Each proof that this 'Nordic God' found me exciting only heightened my
own pleasure. A part of me was in heaven. I found pleasure in his,
we were linked in so many ways. Proof, yet again, that we were made
only for each other.
The belt was quickly unbuckled and pressed to the side, then I fumbled
with the zipper and button of the pants. Joey made no move to help,
but only watched with amusement on his face - perhaps from my rushed
fumbling?
I truly wanted to take him out, as he had originally asked. I wanted
to worship his penis, his cock I corrected myself, to kneel to his
phallus alter.
As soon as the zipper was pushed down, his hard cock popped out
of his jeans. It took me by surprise. A fat woman-pleasuring-cock
that I could not have sculptured to be more perfect. The head,
circumcised so many years before looked nothing like that naked
toddler that I had last seen naked. Joey had a cock to match my
desire - and it reinforced my conviction that we were made for each
other.
My whole body was quivering violently now - uncontrollably reacting to
the sexual adrenaline rushing through my veins.
I awaited the next command, praying for the instruction to properly
worship this god.
"Put it in mom." His voice actually squeaked, and gone was the sure
look within his eyes. We were simpatico and built for this moment.
Joey held the edge of my pantie to the side, against my thigh, as I
rose up on my knees and moved forward. His eyes followed the movement
of my while I watched his beautiful face.
There... the head of that fat cock brushed against my boiling cunt...!
Taking a deep breath, holding it in anticipation, I sunk down and
found myself filled with man-meat to the extent that I was stretched
to a painful width. A squeal of raw pleasure rose from me in volume
equal to the depth of my son.
Taking each centimetre slower, I eventually found myself invaded to
the root. The pleasure-pain of his large cock was new to me, not
imagined but certainly the most exciting event of my life.
Never has a been so deep within me, forcing me widely apart of his
pleasure.
God help me, I loved it!
Joey just watched me with wide ice blue eyes, taking it all in. He
was my emperor and I his slave. It was a role I had never imagined
but I was drunk with passion and my true heart was exposed.
Then I remembered his earlier question and I blurted out my late
answer, "I am your slave honey!"
His eyes quickly lifted to my own and he studied me briefly,
possessively. I could get lost in such a gaze! "I know mom."
Yes!
With the invasion of my body, gone was the humiliation of my past
failures at seducing this man. Nothing else between us, before
that moment, mattered. Our life, from now on was to be re-sculptured,
molded to the wishes of my one true love, my son Joey.
--