Chapter 1

What do you do when your son is the most beautiful boy in the world? Just one glimpse of his perfect face, a glance of watching him move with the grace of a ballet dancer, and I see women fall in love with him. When he was a young boy, it was easy to shrug off his charm and beauty as boyish good looks. He went to an all-boys private school, so besides the one female teacher, I haven’t had to deal with the issue before now.

Ashton just turned 14; however, and since he began puberty, I find myself trembling with what the future will hold. He is tall for his age, with black curly hair, the most brilliant green eyes, and lips that you want to kiss, also a wiry frame that is surprisingly well toned. I have a secret folder on my phone where I keep photos of the boy in his bathing suit or even a few. I snapped when he was changing, and to my everlasting shame, I often find myself in bed at night looking over the photos of my son as I pleasured myself. If not for the following events, perhaps I never would have had to confront my secret fantasies.

It was a Thursday afternoon in the middle of a beautiful summer. I had just come home from lunch with the book club when I heard a strange sound coming from the back bedroom. I knew Emily, our housekeeper was working today, so I didn’t overthink it as I made my way to the back of the house. I passed by my son’s room and was stunned to see my beautiful boy naked and standing before his computer, watching a porn video as he thrust his narrow hips forward. My breath caught when I saw Emily on her knees, large breasts swinging free as she touched her pussy with one hand and supported herself with the other. Her thick lips were forming a perfect ‘O’ of hungry wetness that my boy was fucking.

The pretty blond woman’s eyes widened when she saw me, but she made no moves to get up or leave, and I just stood there. Frozen with shock and if I’m honest, no small amount of taboo desire as I watched my young son fucking this older woman’s face. Then my eyes noticed the video he was watching, that of a young man getting his cock sucked by two older busty women.

“This feels so good, I never imagined it would be this nice, is it what you wanted?” Easton asked, glancing down to the woman submissively sucking his cock, and her eyes flicked from me up to his face, and she smiled, nodding, and my boy smiled back, “then if you want to be my sex toy, swallow it all down.”

I saw the woman’s throat bobbing as she swallowed fast, my boy grunting, and the most beautiful expression of joy and pleasure passed his face as he filled her mouth. A look of sweet bliss overtook hers as an obvious orgasm took her. One hand was between my legs pressing hard against my pussy as I backed down the hall quietly. I should have shouted; I should have put a stop to it. But all I could think to do was get to a chair so I could cum properly. I ended up biting my tongue to keep from screaming out in joy as my fingers finally touched my clit in the kitchen, and I came powerfully.

I was pouring myself a glass of white wine when Emily finally came downstairs. She walked slowly, her face a mask of fear, shame, and a small amount of deviance. She stood in the doorway to the kitchen and looked at me, waiting for my screams of cries of protest, but I just got a second glass and poured her a healthy portion of wine and motioned for her to sit at the counter with me. She smiled ruefully and took a big sip as she sat, I matched her grin, shaking my head and laughing once as I downed my glass and poured another.

“How long has this been going on?” I asked, still shocked and unsure what exactly it was I was feeling.

“This was the first time, I promise,” she said, her cheek flushing and eyes downcast.

“But it won’t be the last,” I said. Not a question, and the woman opened her mouth as if to protest but then closed it and took another long sip of her wine.

“You’re married, Emily?” I asked her, my mind spinning down paths of possibility.

“No ma’am,” she said, and I realized I probably should have known this, but keeping up with all the help is such a bother, “I am divorced. Three years now.”

“Kids?”

“I have two girls; they live with me. My mother is at home, watching them.” The woman was still, her face fearful as she gave over her intimate details.

“You will get tested,” I said, nodding as I came to my decision. “Tested?”

“For STD’s and whatever else is out there that might hurt my boy,” I turned to look the woman full in the eyes and noticed for the first time that she really was quite beautiful, with pale milk-white skin, full lips and high cheekbones. She might have been a model if not for those large breasts, wide hips, and thighs.