He wasn’t the only one who was retreating to the bedroom for relief. I think I almost wore out “mother’s little helper,” and went through several sets of batteries. I dreamed of my son, incredible, carnal, incestuous dreams that left me wet and shaking when I would wake up.
This is how things began. This is how things led up to this moment as I wiped the tears from my eyes, started up the minivan and left the school parking lot. Secretly, I had thought that maybe Josh was getting over what had happened, that he was about to “snap out of it” as I had said to Mrs. Henderson. His teachers had now given me testimony that told me that he hadn’t snapped out of it and that if something wasn’t done, my son was going to fail his senior year of high school.
When I arrived home, I found that Josh had made dinner, a simple casserole, but still, I was very touched that he had made the effort. As he finished preparations for our dinner, I sat down at the kitchen table and took off my high heels. I leaned over to massage my feet. When I began to straighten up, I found my son staring at me and realized that leaning over, my tight sweater gaped open and he could see right down my top. I was wearing a low cut bra and I knew he had seen most of my breasts. Sure enough, he was already sporting a hard-on in his jeans.
I felt an incredible tingle between my legs. As I shifted, I could feel the moistness building in my pussy and that sweet, almost intangible deliciousness as my labia lips rubbed together. I looked back at my son, feeling the same naughty desires welling in me as I felt his eyes roam over me. Unlike his horny Economics teacher’s gaze, my son’s frank and hungry stare excited me.
I pushed the feelings away and focused on the plate of food my son sat down in front of me. We ate in silence for a long time. It was good, just hamburger and cheese and veggies, but Josh had fixed a good meal. I swallowed a mouthful and slowly licked my lips, saying, “You’re a good cook, honey!” I immediately regretted licking my lips as Josh’s eyes widened slowly. Somehow, I knew that if his erection had faded, I’d just brought it back up again. I was suddenly obsessed with finding out. I dropped my napkin and bent over quickly to pick it up.
Under the table, I watched his hand jerk away from the enormous bulge in his pants. He had been rubbing himself! I sat back up with a satisfied grin that quickly went away as I realized I had to keep myself in control! More silence ensued until Josh spoke up, “So did everything go alright at the teacher conference, Mom? Or, am I in trouble?”
I let out a long sigh. “Well, we both know you’re in trouble, young man. I’m just not sure what I need to do about it. Mrs. Henderson and I had a long talk about what’s going on and I need to mull some things over.” I gave him a wink to show I wasn’t too angry and said, “Consider yourself on parole until then and stay out of trouble.”
Josh’s breath caught when I mentioned his English teacher and our dinner conversation died out again. When we were done, I volunteered to clean up, telling my son, “It was a wonderful meal, honey. Why don’t you go ahead and run on up to your room. It wouldn’t hurt for you to crack open your books and get some studying done.”
Josh hung his head and said, “Yes, Mom,” and trudged on out of the room. As I cleaned up the kitchen, I pondered my dilemma and all of Doris Henderson’s advice, wondering if I wasn’t trying to put too much meaning into her words. Over the years, she had spoken of her sons’ problems at school and with the law. Somehow she had turned both her sons around and both were now college graduates with good jobs. The youngest still lived at home while he worked in a local law firm. I tried to apply her words with her own past situation and was both excited and scared of my conclusions.
Upstairs, I passed by my son’s room, my bare feet barely making a noise. I started to knock and tell my son goodnight, but stopped as I heard a low moan and then my son’s voice call out, “Yessss, Mom! I love it when you suck me like that.” My mouth dropped open and then I covered it with my hand before I could make a sound, whether a squeak or a scream, I don’t know!
I was nailed to the spot as I listened. I put my ear to the door and could now hear more. There was a soft slap of skin and I knew he was masturbating vigorously. Now and again, he called out to me. “Mom, that’s it, use your tongue. You love your son’s cock don’t you, Mom? Yes, I want that wet pussy, Mom. I want to fuck you spread those fine legs, Mom and let me at that wet puss!” Finally, I could hear him reach climax, calling out, “Yeahhhh! I’m cumming, Mommy! Cumming for you.”
Horrified and incredibly aroused, I quickly retreated to my bedroom where I was quickly out of my clothes and fingering myself frantically with one hand while the other hand fumbled for my dildo. I hammered myself vigorously with my play toy and brought myself to orgasm quickly one fist jammed in my mouth to muffle my screams. Exhausted, I fell asleep, images of Josh naked and doing all sorts of things to me running through my mind.
The weekend passed with us both warily keeping our distance. If we were in the same room, I was constantly aware of my son’s gaze on my body. I tried not to be provocative, but even a T-shirt and old jeans seemed to give him an erection. Sunday morning, I wore a tasteful dress to church, but I guess it showed off too much leg and clung to tightly to my bosom because Josh, dividing his time between my exposed legs and my breasts, had a hard-on all through Reverend Sumter’s sermon. I wasn’t much better. By the time services were over, my panties were drenched, I was sure that everyone (especially my son), could smell my arousal, and I was thankful that my dress was dark colored and could not show any wet spots.
The rest of the day, Josh sequestered himself in his room while I moved about the house restlessly. An idea was forming in my mind one that a few days ago, I would have been aghast to even consider. I had doubts, Lord, did I have doubts, but as the hours passed, the idea became clearer and more reasonable in my mind. By evening, I was fairly sure I was going to have the courage to carry it out, but I decided I needed a little extra support.
It was almost ten o’clock when I picked up the phone and dialed a number. “Hello?” I heard Doris Henderson say.
“Mrs. Henderson um, Doris? It’s Corinne Porter.”
“Corinne! Hello, dear! Is everything all right?” I could hear concern and excitement in her voice.
“Yes. I think so. I think I know what to do about my son, but I wanted to ask you a question?”
“Certainly, dear! Please ask away.”
“When you dealt with the problems your sons were having how you dealt with them, do you have any regrets?”
There was a long pause on the other end and then a chuckle. Doris replied with a voice full of happiness and joy, “Oh no, Corinne no regrets whatsoever! I’ll be honest,” she added with more emotion that before, “Every night I go to bed and every morning I wake up, thanking God that I did what I did. Everything turned out so much better for my boys and for me.”
I could feel my pussy moisten at her words and at the sheer joy in her voice. “Thank you, Doris, that’s all I needed to know. Good night.”
“You’re welcome, my dear,” Doris replied. “I wish both of you every happiness.” She hung up. I sat the receiver down and stood there for a long minute. I knew I had reached a defining moment, that I was about to cross over to a place from which there was no return.
“It’s time,” I breathed aloud. I turned and hurried upstairs to my bedroom. In my bathroom, I took a long, hot shower, washing myself thoroughly. I blow-dried my hair, fixing it up and applied a little makeup. I padded naked back into my room and considered what I should wear.
I settled on a baby doll negligee, one I never wore around Josh. In fact, I hadn’t worn it in over three years, not since I had an overnight trip with my last boyfriend. It was white and sheer to the point of that I might as well be naked. I decided to not bother with panties. I added a pair of high heels what we used to call in high school ‘fuck me pumps.’ Gazing in the mirror, I thought I looked drop dead sexy. My large breasts were almost spilling out of the top, hanging on only by the grace of my hard nipples and the hem of the negligee ended teasingly just below my pussy.
Satisfied with that, I donned my old flannel robe, cinching it up tightly by the sash and walked out of my bedroom and down the hall. Knocking at my son’s door, I called out in a tremulous voice, “Josh, are you still up? I need to talk with you may I come in?”
I heard Josh say in a strained voice, “Wait a moment, Mom! I’m not decent.” I heard a rustling of covers and other noises and had to smile. Considering what I was about to say to him and how he felt, I was touched by his consideration. “Okay, Mom, come on in.”
I opened the door and stepped in. My son’s room wasn’t too messy, he never liked to let his room get too out of hand. He was sitting on his bed, wearing gym shorts and a T-shirt. He had a pillow on his lap that he was handling nervously. I smiled to myself, imagining what he was trying to conceal. I looked around and walked over to his computer desk and dragged the old, wooden straight backed chair he used over towards the bed, stopping maybe two feet from my son. Sitting down, I happened to glance at his bedside table. There was a photograph of my son and I at the beach from a couple of years ago. We were laughing into the camera, arms around each other’s waist. I was wearing a little yellow bikini that was probably less modest than a mother should wear. I felt my pulse quicken as I put two and two together and knew exactly what my son had been doing. So much the better, I thought to myself.
I sat down and said, “Josh, we need to have a serious talk.”