Angela Yates pulled onto her drive and killed the engine. She was or at least felt extremely tired from lack of sleep and a punishing work schedule. As an IT manager for an on-line law firm, she was on call 24/7 at the moment as new software was being installed. Such was the reason for her homecoming at 10:15pm on this Friday night. She sat in the driving seat and took some deep breaths, hopefully she would have a free weekend with Martin, her son.
She was a single parent, Martin was 19 years old having just finished his gap year. He was to go to Cambridge to study law. Mr. Yates had upped-sticks some 5 years previously after she found him in their bed with one of his boyfriends. She had had no inkling of his orientation other than his lack of attention to her and his inability to "make the ground shake", but most of the wives she was close enough to talk to about it had the same problems.
She gathered her things from the passenger seat and got out of the car. Using the remote to lock it she walked up to her front door, inserted the key and went inside. "Martin" she called, knowing that on a Friday evening he was probably out with his friends or even his on/off girl friend, Fiona. There was no answer, but she could hear his stereo or TV on in his room. "Probably left it on" she muttered to herself as she went to the kitchen to make some tea. "I'll have to tell him about that, he's always leaving something on."
She took her mug of tea and went through her mail at kitchen table. Bank statements, utility bill and a load of junk mail. She kicked of her shoes and enjoyed the coolness of the floor on her feet. The nose coming from up-stairs suddenly changed, or at least she had only just noticed the change. It sounded now like, well somebody having sex.
She finished her tea and went up the stairs. As she approached the landing, she could see Martin's door was not closed. That's why it sounded so loud. For some unexplainable reason, she found her self holding her breath and tiptoeing across the landing to his door. She peeped round the door and was shocked to see Martin watching a porn movie on his computer. He was sat, naked in his chair, masturbating the largest penis she, in her limited experience had ever seen. It had to be 9 or 10 inches long and at least 2 inches thick.
She crept away, back down stairs and into the kitchen. This time she got herself a scotch and soda and sat down to recover her senses. What unnerved her most were not what he was doing or watching, but the immense phallus between his legs. He must have got that from her side, she smiled at the thought. Certainly, her ex-husband was not as well equipped! She sipped at her scotch and wondered what the film was he was watching and from where he had got it.
She took her drink and wandered into the lounge. She switched the TV on with the intention of watching the late evening news and perhaps he might hear it and realise she was home. The news was rambling on about some momentous goings on in the middle east, but she was not taking it in. She could only see the image of Martin's erect cock in her mind. She had just realised that her panties were soaked when Martin came into the room, dressed in his robe. "Hi Mother" he greeted her by his usual kiss on the forehead, "I did not hear you come in."
"I'm not surprised with the racket coming down as I came in. Good film was it?" Angela could not resist the bait.
"Oh, hum, ah, I suppose so" he stuttered his response, "I was going out, but Fiona hasn't got back from college yet."
"I expected you to be out, I was going to admonish you in the morning for leaving whatever on." Angela smiled at his discomfort, "I was just about to come up and switch it off."
"I'll be more careful in future Mother"
'I just bet you will my handsome son' she though quietly as she sipped her drink. 'Now why did I think that?' She looked at her son, he was certainly a good looking young man. At 6' 2" tall and a lean 180 pounds, he could turn any girl's head. Angela's mother called him "her prince." Angela was again aware of the moisture in the crotch of her nickers. 'God, what is wrong with me, he's my son. My handsome, well-hung son.' "I'm going to the loo" she said getting up, "I'll have another scotch and soda if you would make me one, it's been a hard week." It was all she could do to avoid cracking up at her pun as she disappeared from his view into the hallway.
She locked the loo door, removed her pantyhose and panties together and threw them in the laundry basket. She sat on the pan and as she urinated, contemplated what she had seen, but more pertinently, her surprising reaction to it. She had known for a few years that Martin masturbated, she had found evidence such as dried semen stains and soiled tissues when cleaning his room. What little research see was able to do on discovering the fact told her not to intervene, that it would probably be counter productive.
She dried herself, flushed the toilet and returned to Martin in the lounge. He gave her the scotch and she sat down. He had got himself a beer and he sat down opposite her. She sipped her drink and stared of into nowhere as she returned to her reverie. It was unnerving, she realised she was turned on. Not for some considerable time had she felt this way, if ever. Surely it was just the sight if Martin's cock, not Martin himself. Either way, she suddenly realised she was sexually attracted to her son, he turned her on!
This was getting a little too heavy. She could not deny her feelings though, she was definitely attracted to him. She, like all mothers thought her son to be gorgeous, but this was not maternal admiration. This was raw lust! God, what was she to do? She could not have him leave home, that would be too painful and he would want to know the real reason. He could always tell when she was not being totally honest with him.
"Penny for them, Mother" he broke into her thoughts, "you were miles away."
"I'm sorry darling" she said, "this new software has been a nightmare. I hope we've cracked it and I can get some time off." God why had she called him 'darling', she never called him that. She noticed that he had reacted too. She had to get away from him. She had to get her thoughts in order. "I'm going to bed, I am knackered" she said as she got up. "Good night darling." Oh shit, she had said it again.
She ran up the stairs two at a time, dashed into her room, shut the door and lent against it gasping at her sudden exertion. Her body was on automatic pilot as undressed and fell into bed. Sleep eluded her, she tossed and turned trying to get comfortable. The image of her son's body, his erect penis always in her mind. Her body was aroused, her nipples hard and sensitive, her vagina hot and wet.
Her hands seemed to have a life of their own as they stroked her hot skin. She fought hard to keep them away from her breasts and groin. She had not done this since she had married. Why now? Why was she feeling so sexually charged? She had to have relief or she would never sleep. She gave up the fight and her hands went to her breasts and began to caress them. She took each nipple between finger and thumb and squeezed, grunting out her pleasure as she did so. Her hips had taken on a life of their own, beginning to thrust as if in the coital act.
She was starting to moan, her excitement rising. One hand shot down to her vagina and started to stroke her labia. Her every action was pure instinct, she had no idea what was driving her. The pure lustful pleasure that her hands were drawing from her body was in her experience, unprecedented. Her fingers found the nub of her clitoris, the first touch sending shivers right through her body. Her other hand joined the first trapping her clit between her thumbs while her fingers delved into the wet slick depths below.
The image of her son's cock — in this frame of mind it was a cock, a beautiful rampant cock, not a penis — kept coming into her mind. It was coming toward her, moving between her legs. Her orgasm hit her like an electric shock. So much so, it knocked her out. When she became aware of where see was and what had transpired, the sun was shining on her window. The shock of finding herself naked in a damp bed quickly brought herself to her senses. She arose, showered, dressed and went to make coffee and some breakfast.
As she sat sipping her second coffee, she reflected on the events of the previous night. Not as they happened, but working backwards in an attempt to analyse them. She had slept as well as she had ever slept. She had probably her first real orgasm, she certainly could not remember one so intense and felt certain she would have done. She had found herself in awe of her son, or more particularly, his magnificent appendage. Whatever happened, Martin had albeit inadvertently, turned his mother on so much that she eventually lost herself to the pleasures of her own body.
She still wasn't sure where all this reasoning was taking her. Martin's entrance stopped all thought and found her lost for words. "What's up Mother?" he asked sitting down with coffee and cereal, "You are usually more vocal than this in a morning."
"I'm sorry Martin, I was miles away so you caught me unawares" she responded. "What is your script for today?"
"Down to the station to meet Fiona off the 9:30 train"
His reply was said with little enthusiasm and Angela's mothering antenna started to twitch. "What is the matter Son, you don't sound very eager to see her."
"In truth Mum, we are drifting apart. Since she has been in college this last year, she has become more distant. Her phone calls don't give me the same buzz anymore."
.... There is more of this story ...