The rain drummed loudly on the window, and she unconsciously moved closer to her son. They were sitting on their sofa, watching TV together.

She was in her fifties, not beautiful by any means — slim almost to the point of being skinny, which only served to emphasise her full breasts. Her hair was iron grey, and her face was showing signs of becoming lined, but her legs were, she felt, her best feature, perhaps apart from her breasts — very long and shapely, with slim ankles.

Her son Jamie took after her — tall for his age, gangly, with tousled hair, and she loved him passionately.

Nearly fifteen years ago, a man had picked her up in a pub. He'd bought her a couple of drinks, and they'd gone outside and he'd fucked her up against a wall. She didn't know his name, but her son was the result, and she glanced sideways at him as he stared at the TV screen.

She was wearing her usual housecoat, that buttoned all the way up the front, but a few of the bottom buttons were undone, and when she crossed her bare legs, the housecoat parted halfway up her thighs.

Jamie dropped his hand to his mother's thigh just below her housecoat — her skin felt soft and smooth, and warm under his hand. He stroked her leg gently, feeling his cock stirring as he moved his hand up and down her thigh.

Almost without thinking, she put her arm round his shoulders, and he pressed himself against her. He looked up at her, and she smiled down at him.

He moved his hand higher up her leg.

'No, dear, you mustn't!, ' she said, although she didn't attempt to move his hand away.

He looked at her pleadingly: she found it almost impossible to refuse him anything, and she relented.

'Well, then — just a kiss, ' she smiled weakly, and tightened her arm round him.

Their lips touched — at first, they just sat there like that, but then Jamie slowly moved his mouth on his mother's, and despite herself she felt herself beginning to respond.

Their mouths opened slightly, and his tongue found hers. The kiss became more insistent — soon, he was working his mouth on hers, sometimes just pecking, then more firmly, kissing her wetly, his tongue circling hers, and she held his face with her free hand as she kissed him back, with increasing passion.

His hand moved higher up her leg under her housecoat until his fingers touched her panties. Her breath was coming more quickly as they kissed each other more and more urgently.

The kiss lasted for four, five minutes, and even longer, with the boy's fingertips brushing his mother's sex.

He took his hand away. But only to start undoing the buttons of her housecoat.

He pulled her up to push the housecoat away from her body and slip it off her shoulders, to reveal her pale blue bra and matching panties. Her breasts were swelling from the bra, and he lowered her face to kiss them.

He reached behind her to unfasten her bra, and she shrugged it off — now, apart from her panties, she was naked, and the boy ran his hand over her bare belly and midriff, over her prominent ribs, then up to hold her heavy breast. He fondled it, cupped it and lifted it as he started to suck her nipple, feeling it stiffen between his lips, circling it with his tongue, licking her large, heavily stippled aureoles.