Chapter 3

The next morning, my head much clearer, I formulated a scheme to deal with my illicit urges toward my son. Carol was right when she mentioned that Chad and I were physically attracted to each other. We loved each other and living in the same house made it difficult to contain our emotions.

Setting my lustful cravings for my son aside, I decided to convince Chad to connect with a mature woman to satisfy his sexual appetite. Carol was the obvious choice, but his attraction to Pamela was evident. “But both of them are his aunts,” I argued to myself. “And you shared a bed with your sister, so what’s the big deal?” I asked, countering my thoughts.

While we dined at the breakfast table, I resolutely adhered to my plan to return to a normal mother-and-son relationship. “Chad, would you mind if I invited Pamela over for the evening? I’m sure she’d be thrilled to see you again.”

After a pause, he replied, “I’d rather spend the evenings alone with you, Mom.” His smile displayed his inappropriate hungry lust.

Goosebumps popped up on my flesh, remembering when his hand clenched my thigh. I chastised myself for leading him on and vowed to steer our relationship in a different direction. When an idea suddenly hit me, I suggested, “Your aunt loves to dance. Why don’t we take her out to a club Saturday night and have a night of it.”

He paused, before replying, “That sounds great. We haven’t been out for a while.”

For several hours, my emotions ebbed and flowed, thinking about my relationship with my sister. After I was confident of a course of action, I rang her number. Pamela answered my call immediately, and after a few minutes of chatting, I proposed, “Would you like to join us Saturday night? We’re planning on dining at a nightclub, and if I remember correctly, you share the same passion for dancing as Chad.”

“Certainly, I’m always available to spend time with your handsome son. Aren’t you afraid of me swooning him over, and whisking him away from you?” she asked, snickering.

I’d practiced this in my mind of what to say and replied, “He’s a grown man with his own feelings and desires. You’re an attractive and sexy woman, and if you want to be with him, I won’t interfere. I just ask that you don’t hurt him in the process.”

She paused, before softly responding, “You do realize how much I love both of you, right? I’d never dream of causing either of you any harm. When I ribbed you about stealing my husband, I was kidding. I knew it was a sensitive topic, but when I saw how upset you were, I admit that I couldn’t resist teasing you. I’m actually quite happy that you pulled that asshole away from me.”

I couldn’t help but smile, touched by her words. “Aw, thanks, Sis. That means everything to me. It’s such a relief that we’re back on track, and I’m excited to get together again, now that we’ve had this heart-to-heart.”

“While we’re being honest with each other, I have to confess that I do have feelings for Chad,” Pamela admitted. “I enjoy the time I spend with him and I find myself becoming more physically attracted to him. I’ve held back expressing my feelings to him, only flirting with him while you were present. If you don’t mind, I’d love to pursue an intimate relationship.”

“From the way his pants bulge when you’re around, I’d say you won’t have a problem convincing him to ravish your sexy body,” I replied, giggling. “You’ve always been a passionate and caring partner. I can’t think of anyone else I’d like to see him with,” I lied, my mind filled with images of Carol riding him, quickly changing to myself atop him.

After concluding our conversation and returning to work, my mood was at an all-time high. My sister and I were on good terms again and my son would soon be able to enjoy the intimacy of a passionate woman, someone other than his mother.

The next few evenings, I refrained from crossing my legs and teasing my son, not wanting to further encourage him.

When Saturday arrived, I stood in front of my mirror, assessing the outfit I had chosen for the event. My blouse was a little tight and sheer, faintly revealing the outline of my blue bra. The silk skirt I selected hadn’t been worn for years, but it was one of my favorites. Pressing it against my flesh, I remembered why I liked it so much—its slick and smooth material felt wonderful against my legs. The hemline fell a few inches higher than my knees, exposing the lower portion of my thighs. I faced away from the mirror and looked over my shoulder, content that my panty line didn’t show. I smiled, while I admired the sheer material emphasizing my shapely tush. It was very provocative and although I was his mother, I also enjoyed being admired as a woman. Pleased with my outfit, I left to join Chad in the living room.

His eyes widened as he exclaimed, “Wow, Mom! You’re beautiful. Every man in the place is going to be asking you to dance.”

I blushed and thought about changing into something more conservative, but knew we were running late. “If you recall, we’re going there for you and my sister,” I responded. “I don’t care to dance and am just along for the ride, but thanks for the compliment, even if it’s from my son. It does feel good to dress up once in a while. Let’s move out, I’ll drive.”

The club was halfway between my sister’s house and ours, so we decided to meet there. On the way over, Chad surreptitiously admired my exposed legs, and I wondered if my pick of clothes might have been a little over-the-top.

Pamela had thoughtfully secured a table for us, conveniently situated not far from the dance floor. Following a pleasant meal and an after-dinner drink, she extended an invitation to Chad for a dance. The club’s theme leaned towards romantic music, predominantly featuring slow songs. After two rounds on the dance floor, they gracefully returned to their seats, leisurely sipping on their iced teas, seeking a momentary respite.

“Chad is an exceptional dancer,” Pamela affirmed with a smile. “You should join him for a dance during the next set.”

I chuckled appreciatively. “No, thank you,” I responded. “I don’t possess even a fraction of your dancing prowess, and I’d rather not subject my poor son to my clumsy feet.”

“I guess he’s all mine, then,” my sister declared, pulling Chad back onto the floor.

They repeated this cycle several times, gracefully moving through a couple of songs before pausing for a well-deserved break. After each dance, Pamela would affectionately embrace Chad, planting a sweet kiss on his cheek, and then she’d cast a warm smile in my direction. In response, I mirrored her smile, a silent expression of my genuine approval and wholehearted acceptance of their relationship.

A sudden wave of competitiveness overcame me. observing my sister’s braless tits and nipples outlined against the thin material of her blouse, After dashing to the women’s room, I entered a stall and removed my bra, stuffing it into my purse. After examining my reflection in the mirror, I almost chickened out and put it back on. My deep-brown, hard nipples were clearly visible, begging to bust out of my tight, sheer blouse.

On my return to our table, a young man took notice of me and approached. “Good evening, Ma’am,” he greeted me. “You’re quite the stunning lady. Would you do me the honor of dancing with me?”

His handsomeness and pleading look were difficult to resist, but suddenly a thought struck me. “I’m not dancing tonight, but do you see that brunette over there in the blue top?” I nodded toward my sister.

“Sure, she’s a knock-out, just like you, but she’s always with that same guy,” he answered.

“He’s my son. Tell him I’d like to talk to him and you’d be happy to take his place. Her name is Pamela and she’d love to hear the same compliments you just tried on me.” I winked at him. Without lingering, he traipsed over to my son and sister.

While he conversed with them, Chad briefly glanced in my direction, then passed Pamela’s hand to the young man before making his way over to me. “What’s going on, Mom?” he inquired.

“It’s nothing urgent,” I replied. “I couldn’t help but notice that the young man kept facing rejection, and I felt a bit sorry for him. I thought you’d understand.”

“Of course,” he responded with a grin, his gaze briefly flickering to my jutting points. “Besides, it’s the perfect opportunity for a dance with my beautiful mother. They just announced that it’s the final one of the night, and I’d be delighted to end it with you.”

Before I could object, he enveloped me in his embrace, one arm securely around my waist while his other hand held mine. “Hold onto me like this and follow my lead,” he gently instructed.

As my hand rested gently on his waist, he guided me closer to him. “When we’re this close,” he explained, “you can feel my legs moving, and you just need to match my steps. Don’t worry; if you’re uncertain how to move, I’ll help you.”

We swayed to the music and I felt more at ease with him than with anyone in my life. Feeling his hand tug on my back, I rested my head on his shoulder, melding my body to his. His heartbeat throbbed through my breasts, smashed tightly against his chest. My erect, puffy nipples jabbed into him, barely making a dent into his hard flesh.

When he released my hand, wrapped his arm around me, and held my shoulder, I followed his action. We ignored the music, opting to hug each other tightly, enjoying the intimate connection.

Passing by Pamela and the young man I set her up with, she cast a curious glance my way, well aware that I had no intention of hitting the dance floor. After a few more of those inquisitive looks, I finally turned and whispered softly into Chad’s ear, “It seems like I’m inadvertently making your aunt a bit jealous.”

His warm breath brushed against my earlobe as he replied, “Actually, my intention was to do the opposite.”

I furrowed my brow in confusion. “What do you mean?” I questioned.

Chad clarified with a charming smile, “I was trying to make you jealous, and it seems like it worked. Dancing with you was all I really wanted to do tonight.”

“Oh, come on,” I responded, my cheeks flushing. “You’re teasing me now. I didn’t attempt to compete with my sister. It just happened to turn out that way.”

“Really, Mom? Then why did you lose the bra and now your soft breasts are pressed against me, just like Aunt Pamela does?” he countered. To prove his point he hugged me tighter and licked my ear lobe, while his fingertips dug into my soft midriff.

I inhaled deeply and instantly regretted it, my breasts heaving against his chest. A wave of heat flowed through my body and I couldn’t refute his accusations, as he was correct. Lost in my own world, I hadn’t noticed the music had ended and most couples had moved off the floor. Pamela sat alone at the table, her attention on us, while waiting for us to join her. Chad moved his face in front of mine, locking his eyes with mine.

“I know of something that will drive her crazy with jealousy,” he whispered.

“What’s that?” I asked, my heart beating rapidly, suspicious of his intention.

“This,” he replied. Leaning close, his full lips touched mine while we gazed into each other’s eyes. The combination of his scent, hot breath, and soft lips weakened my knees. My grip tightened on him, fearing I would collapse from the amount of pleasure flowing through me. When his tongue swiped across my lips, I groaned and willingly opened my mouth. I tilted my head, and nervously touched his tongue with mine. My illicit, lustful cravings surfaced, prompting me to deepen our romantic kiss. Heat waves swept through me as I became lost in the moment, uncaring of what was right or wrong. Our tongues danced together, grinding our bodies and mouths together. I’d never enjoyed a kiss so much in my life as that time, and it was with my son. I felt ashamed, yet excited, that I made no move to stop him, knowing I would allow him to do anything he desired.

He lowered his hand to my ass, and gently palmed one cheek. He pulled my groin into him, his rock-hard prick indenting my stomach. My pussy throbbed, and gushed like a waterfall, my stomach filling with a torrent of butterflies. Steam billowed from our nostrils, as we kissed as lovers—not as a mother and son. The combination of our passionate kiss and his firm hands flooded my senses with pleasure, making my legs wobble. When my weakened body fell limp, he held me tighter, his hand squeezing my bun.

It was a defining moment for me. His beautiful, blue eyes were filled with an insatiable, lustful hunger. Not for my sister or any other mature woman—he desired me, his mother. Unable to mask my carnal, illicit craving, my wide-eyed response spurred him to continue romantically kissing me. My pussy profusely leaked, hot juice escaping my leg band, dribbling down my inner thigh. My pussy yearned for his thick fingers to damn up my dripping canal. I was about to experience an orgasm without anything touching my horny pussy.

Fortunately, he released me, his joyful, wanton expression sending shivers down my spine.

Returning to our table, I was met with Pamela’s shocked expression, her hand covering her opened mouth. Before I could explain, Chad gripped my hand and in a stern voice, ordered, “Time to go home, Mom. Thanks for the dances, Auntie.”

I giggled, on the way out, having never seen my sister tongue-tied before.

He guided me to the passenger door and firmly ordered, “I’m driving, Mom.”

I smiled and a feeling of security swept through me as he took charge, flexing his male prowess. After helping me into the car, he rushed to the driver’s seat, and we were soon barrelling down the road. He gazed at my legs more than the road, prompting me to snap my knees shut, silently sending the message I wasn’t available. Juices squished out of my panties onto my closed thighs.

“What was I thinking, wearing such a thin, silk skirt?” I asked myself. It felt like his hands were on my bare ass. More fluids seeped out as I recalled his fingers digging into my ass cheek. I squeezed my legs tighter together, in an attempt to keep my juices from soiling my favorite skirt.

My son’s aggressiveness had terrified and excited me at the same time. His lustful stare, while passionately kissing me, melted my defenses, and I knew that I wouldn’t be able to stop him from shoving that fat prick up my horny pussy, once we were in the privacy of our home. Even though my desires matched his, I worried about the repercussions, and how we would react afterward. “Would he disrespect me as a mother, giving in to his aggressions so easily?” I asked myself.

When we drove past our driveway, I alerted Chad, “Hey! We just drove by our house.”

He blushed and replied, “Sorry, Mom. I’ll make a quick Louie. Guess I was daydreaming.”

I knew exactly what he was thinking about—the same thing that was on my mind—fucking his horny mother. I had to get a grip on the situation. It was my responsibility as a parent to set boundaries. My conflicted emotions consumed my thoughts when we arrived home, but I knew exactly what I had to do. I flung open the car door, ran to the house, and said, “Goodnight, Chad. I’m hitting the sack.”

Without removing my shoes, I briskly scampered to my room and slammed the door shut. Once nude, flat on my back on my bed, my fingers dug into my drenched pussy.

I twisted around until my groin faced the door. Raising my knees, I spread my legs and resumed pumping my pussy, hoping he’d walk in and claim me as his. Images of Carol humping him filled my mind, but reliving the kiss and his muscular arms pulling me into him triggered my climax. I grunted and humped my hips up as if I were fucking my studly son. Juices gushed from my overheated slot as euphoria swept through me.

Before my legs hit the bed, I was fast asleep, exhausted from the emotional roller-coaster of the evening.

The next morning, I awakened refreshed but still horny. Shoving the sheet down, the cool air swept over my body, doing little to lower my temperature. Cupping my breasts, I squeezed and caressed them until my nipples filled with blood and became erect, reminding me of a turkey pop-up timer. “I’m done, alright,” I chuckled to myself. My hot body was thoroughly cooked and ready to be eaten.

While I teased a nipple with one hand, my other cupped my hairy mound. Squeezing my labia together, I mashed my covered clit with my palm, sending jolts of pleasure through my body. After several more minutes, my fingers ran up and down my slippery lips before sinking into my slot. When I tried to envision Carol on top of my son, the image kept switching to Chad’s lust-filled eyes staring at me.

With my climax quickly approaching, I heard a soft knock on my door, followed by Chad’s voice. “Mom. Are you up?”

Quickly removing my hand, I hastily drew the sheet up to my neck and replied, “I just woke up. Why?”

Without uttering a word, he opened the door and entered, bearing a tray. Upon it rested a steaming cup of coffee and a small plate of two pieces of toast.

“You seemed so exhausted last night that I thought I’d treat you to breakfast in bed,” he explained with a warm smile. “I hope you like the jam. I believe it’s your favorite.”

“Thank you, Chad. That’s considerate of you,” I responded, my smile mirroring his warmth. I adjusted myself into a sitting position while lifting the sheet to cover my chest, using my armpits to hold it in place. He carefully positioned the tray on my lap and stood by patiently, awaiting my first bite of toast.

As I savored the steaming liquid, I complimented him, “You nailed the coffee, Chad. Just the right amount of creamer.” Balancing the cup in one hand, I reached for a slice of toast with the other and took a satisfying bite. “Absolutely perfect. I couldn’t have asked for a better wake-up treat.”

My arms involuntarily widened when I spoke and I froze, feeling the sheet slowly slide down the swell of my breasts. Peering down, I was relieved to see it hang up on my bullet-hard tips, and for a split moment, I thought my nipples had saved the day. When I set my cup down to grab the sheet, the silky, slick material resumed descending until it landed on my lap.