Brandon woke up in the morning and got ready for school. His sadness had been replaced by determination. He seduced her once; he could do it again. He smelled coffee and entered the kitchen, his mom in her work clothes standing at the counter pouring herself a cup of coffee. He came up behind her and kissed her neck, running a hand over her bottom. ‘Morning, mom.”
Ann stiffened and slapped his hand away. “None of that, Brandon. I was deadly serious that there was no more of this inappropriateness.”
“You liked me kissing your neck just now. Deny it.”
“Doesn’t matter, Bran. Not happening again.”
Brandon moved closer to her putting his hands on her hips and kissing her neck again as she tried to lean away from him.
“Brandon! I said no!”
He advanced on her again, his arms open for an embrace. Ann became angry. Both for his disobedience of her wishes as well as his refusal to take no from a woman on his advances. By God, she was not raising a little date rapist. She slapped him across the face. “Brandon. I. Said. No.” Ann’s face was red, her eyes steely as she stared down her son. “How dare you. I am beyond disappointed. You never, ever, ever force yourself on a woman, Bran. Do you hear me? Do you understand me?” She was shouting by the time she was finished.
Brandon was crushed. His cheek stung from her slap and his spirit stung from her rebuke, her words making him understand the wrongness of his actions. He slunk out of the kitchen. Ann called after him, “We’re leaving for school in 20 minutes. Be ready.”
That afternoon after school Brandon went straight to his room and lay on the bed. He was so fucking sad and hurt. Was this what it was like when someone broke up with you and you couldn’t handle it? He cried as he lay there, thinking of the cuddling, and kissing, and the orgasms and her body and his heart ached. He said nothing at dinner, ignoring his mother’s questions about his day or grunting one-word answers. He went back to his room immediately after dinner, not bothering to help her clean up after the meal. The next day, Thursday, Brandon told his mom he was sick and didn’t go to school.
Ann worried about her son, knowing his “illness” was just heartbreak, but she indulged him the one-day break from school. He would get over it in time, just as she had gotten over her high school breakups. She did have a worry in the back of her mind, though. What if Brandon getting over her was the end of their closeness? What if they never again found their footing as mother and son?
Ann made Brandon go to school on Friday. Partially because he needed to stop wallowing in his room and partially because Ann needed her Friday self-care day. She was feeling deprived and horny after cutting off the fooling around with her son. She stripped down to her panties and started the process of making fake cum on the stovetop. As she worked, she thought about finding out Brandon used her panties and discovered his warm cum in them in the dirty clothes hamper. They could still do that, right? It was zero contact and no harm done. She hated herself as she gave in to this weakness, needing his semen. She would try to get her panties extra aromatic and juicy for him today. She carried the saucepan of fake cum into her bedroom and lay down on the bed.
Ann had always before fantasized about her late husband when she masturbated. As she kissed her dildo and rubbed her clit through her panties, she caught herself thinking of Brandon’s wiry torso, his chest free of hair except for a trace around his nipples. She imagined herself kissing her way down his stomach, finding his trail to happiness, the hairs become slick with her saliva as she moved towards his beautiful cock. She slid her hand into her panties, coating her fingers with her arousal to smear it on the dildo so she could pretend she was cleaning her son’s pre-cum off his glans. She worked two fingers into her pussy as she licked the kissed the dildo. She got on her hands and knees, her breasts torpedo shaped as they hung down. She held the dildo, base on the bed so she could pretend she was going down on Bran and slide the fake cock deep into her mouth as she fingered herself. She worked the length of dildo in and out of her mouth, her full lips sliding over the material, coating it in saliva. She imagined giving Bran a surprise and tried to take the cock into her throat. To her astonishment, she didn’t gag, but it made her throat a little sore and she had tears running down her face from the effort and was absolutely drooling all over her bedding. She moved her now sopping wet fingers to her clit, massaging it as she sucked the fake dick, imagining her moans were Brandon’s as she pleasured him.
She paused to load up the syringe on the squirting dildo with the warm cum in the saucepan and went back to sucking the dick as she brought herself closer and closer to orgasm. With she went over the edge, pushing the plunger of the syringe down to make the dildo fill her waiting mouth with the concoction. It was erotic, but not the same as the real stuff and she had to force herself to let the fantasy take her over again. The cum leaked out of the corners of her mouth and she pretended she was giving him another cum play show, opening her mouth and pushing the stuff back in. She spit it into her palm and licked it off again as she rode her orgasm out.
Her panties were wet, but Ann wanted them sopping wet so they would be permeated with her aroma when Bran got home from school. She took them off and lay on her back and began to stuff them into her pussy. She massaged her clit as she worked the material inside of her, imaging Bran was exploring her pussy, licking her, sucking on her clit, smearing her fluid all over his face. She came again, explosively as she imagined how thrilled he would be at finding her well-used panties.
After her play session, she put the panties on the very top of the clothes piled in the hamper and got dressed. She ran her errands and did dinner prep while she waited for him to come home and find her gift for him.
When Brandon came home, he headed for the bathroom as he always did, and Ann resisted the urge to lurk outside the door. Brandon lifted the lid of the hamper, fearing both finding and not finding the stained panties he jerked off to every Friday. There they were. He touched them, finding them still slightly damp, which was a first. When he brought them to his face, he was overwhelmed by the scent of his mother and was thrown back into the memory of being under the covers, eating her out for the first and last time. He read someplace that smell evoked the strongest feelings of nostalgia of all the senses, and he believed it now. He couldn’t go on like this, so sad and so rejected. He made a decision in that moment. He opened the medicine cabinet then headed to his room.
Ann padded into the bathroom, hoping to find her panties full of Brandon’s warm spunk. A look of puzzled consternation crossed her face when she discovered them with no ejaculate on them. She knocked lightly on Brandon’s door, calling through it. “You okay, honey?”
“Fine, mom.” His reply was soft, slightly muffled by the door. She went into the living room and watched some TV, worrying about her son. After an hour, she started dinner and called out for him to join her in the kitchen when it was ready, another hour later. He didn’t come out of his room and didn’t reply. Ann knocked on his door again and called out, thinking he must have fallen asleep. He still didn’t answer.
When she entered his room, he was lying on his back, eyes closed, and she smiled slightly at the sight of him sleeping. Her smile vanished when she saw a pill bottle beside him. She ran to the bed and looked at the bottle, seeing her the prescription was for her pain pills from her broken arm, the bottle empty.
“No, no no. Bran, no God, no.”