Chapter 1

Jessica

I drove my Land Rover Evoque into the garage, pushed the button to close the door, and walked into the house. After I went into the kitchen and poured a glass of wine, I went upstairs to my bedroom. When I got there, I kicked off my heels, took off my business suit jacket and skirt and hung them up, unbuttoned my blouse, and unhooked my bra. I slipped on a tank top and a pair of shorts, added the blouse and bra to my hamper, and then carried the hamper into the laundry room.

I was putting my dirty clothes into the washer when I came across a pair of my panties on the laundry room floor, and I knew I hadn’t left them there. When I examined them more closely, I noticed that they were crusty and had a dried white substance on them. What have we here? I thought, and then I brought the panties to my nose and inhaled deeply. I immediately recognized the aromatic scent. Not only did they smell like me but they also smelled like semen. Instantly, my nipples hardened and my pussy began to moisten. Damn, I thought, it’s cum; my son jerked off into my panties.

As I held them in my hand, I ran the tip of my finger over the soiled, crusty little piece of fabric. I wanted to resist the urge, but something deep inside me wouldn’t let me and I gave in. I extended my tongue and ran it through the center of the panties. God, I’ve missed that taste, I thought. My knees went weak and I could feel liquid seeping through the little thong I was wearing. I had to steady myself on the washer so I didn’t fall down.

I’d gotten my real estate broker’s license three months ago, and my company had immediately transferred me to run one of their offices in Las Vegas. Fortunately, that happened in early June, so my son was done with school for the summer and we could relocate right away. My husband had traded me in for a newer, younger model three years earlier, when I was 33, so it was just the two of us who had to move. Josh had been 13 at the time, so I was the parent who was forced to have ‘the talk’ with him. It was a bit awkward, but we’d been pretty open about sex ever since. But I knew I’d have to have a conversation with him about this, so I set the panties aside and finished starting the laundry.

That evening, after dinner, Josh and I went into the living room. He reached for the TV remote, but I stopped him. “Hold on a minute, Josh. There’s something we have to talk about.”

He turned to look at me from the other end of the couch and there was a slight smile on his face. “What’s up?” he asked disingenuously.

I twirled the soiled panties around my forefinger. “I think you know what’s up,” I said sternly.

“Got your attention, did I?”

“Yes, you did. Now tell me why you did it.”

“Okay.” He sighed, then laid his story out for me. “Since we moved here I’ve had some dates but I haven’t even gotten to third base, so I haven’t gotten laid for three months. You haven’t been on a single date since we moved here, so you have to be the horniest woman within a hundred-mile radius. I think we both have a problem, and I thought this would get us talking about it.”

Unfortunately, everything my son said was true. After I got over the pain and anger of my husband cheating and the disolution of what I’d thought was a very happy marriage, I’d dated a few guys and actually had sex with several of them. Unfortunately, most of their performances left much to be desired and the one that wasn’t half bad I didn’t have a connection with, which only left me feeling more frustrated and lonely. I’d hoped that a new town would bring new opportunities, but after three months my ‘new beginning’ had fallen short of my grand expectations.

I considered myself to be an attractive woman. I watched what I ate and I always made time to hit the gym four to five times a week. However, my new job responsibilities left little time to date and find someone. There was also my teenage son who required a good deal of supervision and guidance, which only further limited my free time. I’d learned a lot about the neighborhoods of my area of responsibility at work, but there didn’t seem to be many single men looking to buy property so I hadn’t made any sexual connections that I’d hoped I would since our move.

I’d known Josh became sexually active at 15 because he’d told me about his first experiences at each stage of seducing his girlfriend. He’d asked me questions and we’d had very frank and honest discussions of various sexual acts, so I also knew he’d become a fairly competent lover, especially for someone his age. I was now regretting being so open and forthright with him concerning sex because this conversation seemed headed for troubled waters.

“Okay, we both have needs that aren’t being met; what do you think we should do about it?” I asked.

He looked seriously into my eyes. “You’re probably just as tired of using your vibrator as I am from jerking off, so I thought maybe we could each take care of the other’s problem in a different way.”

Wow! I thought. No subtlety there. I really wanted to feel someone else’s hands on my body, but my own son? That would be wrong, just wrong. Or would it? I wasn’t quite sure.

“You’re my son, and I’m your mother,” I replied. “Setting aside a multitude of moral considerations, what your suggesting is not only incest, but it’s also illegal.”

“Well, I wasn’t suggesting that we actually have sex,” he said bluntly. “I just thought we could go down on each other, it would ... you know ... take the edge off for both of us. You remember how, right?” he said condescendingly.

I blushed. Sucking my ex-husband’s long, thick cock had been one of my favorite sexual activities and I’d always gotten extremely turned on when I did it. I didn’t have much of a gag reflex when I first tried taking a cock deep, and after a few attempts I was able to deep-throat him as well as the rest of my lovers I’d enjoyed before him. But I rarely let anyone come when he was all the way down my throat, because I loved the taste of semen and I always wanted it in my mouth before I swallowed it.

“Yes, I remember how,” I said even more sternly. I paused for a moment of reflection. “I just don’t know if it’s a good idea.”

“No one will know,” he said gently. “It will be our secret. You are my mother, and I love you, and I want to take care of you ... it would be something we’d be doing for each other.”

He looked into my eyes and I could tell he knew I was deep in thought. I couldn’t believe I was actually considering this. Then he continued. “You don’t think I’ve noticed the way you look at me? It’s the same look you always gave Dad.”

I could feel my face turn into a deep red ember. “You look so much like your father, when he was younger, when we first met,” I shyly admitted.

“You need this, Mom, just as much as I do. I’m being open and honest with you, just like we promised we’d be after Dad left, like you taught me how to be.”

I could hear the hunger, the yearning in his voice. I had to admit the truth, he was right. I was desperate, lonely, and I longed for some form of human contact ... human touch. I needed more than what I was getting on my own.

“Okay,” I said reluctantly. “This is your idea, how do you think we should start?”

“Stand up for me, okay?”

I stood up and he knelt between my legs. He reached up and unbuttoned my little jean shorts and slowly slid them down my thighs.

“Now lie back and open your sexy legs,” he said hungrily.

When I did, he was kneeling between my outspread thighs. He put his hands on the tops of my thighs, lowered his head, and started lightly kissing just above my knees, alternating sides, interspersing little licks with the tip of his tongue. It felt really nice, and I let out a little moan of pleasure as he slowly moved up my legs. My panties were soaked with my secretions, and I closed my eyes and just concentrated on my son and the sensations he was giving me.

Josh’s mouth finally got to the top of my thighs, and then he stiffened his tongue and sent it in long swipes up through the junction of my thigh with my groin. I was thoroughly aroused, and I let out a low, deep moan of frustration as he switched from one leg to the other while continuing to avoid my pussy.

“Don’t tease me, Josh,” I whimpered. “Please...”

“I love how you beg,” he whispered.

“Please,” I moaned. “I need this so bad...”

He slid his fingers underneath the little elastic band of my thong and I immediately lifted my bottom off the couch to assist him. Once he had it off, I opened my legs again for him; he sank his tongue deep inside me and my eyes rolled into the back of my head. “Oh ... God ... more ... I need more,” I moaned.

He spent a few seconds licking the walls of my vagina before extracting his tongue. He pushed two fingers deep inside and then curled them upwards, and his mouth latched onto my clit and he began swirling the tip over it, making delicious little circles. Instantly, my body began to climb. “Yeah ... just like that, baby, right there,” I hissed. He began gently moving his fingers, which instantly put pressure on my G-spot. When he rubbed that sensitive area, clamped his lips around my clit, and began to alternately lick and suck on the hard little bud my orgasm hit almost without warning, sending lightning bolts through my body as I released.

He detached his mouth from me and I was able to catch my breath. I looked down between my legs and whispered, “Do that again, please.” I was actually quite surprised at his skill and sexual prowess. He wrapped his arms around my thighs and once again sank his tongue deep inside me. I reached down between my legs and lovingly ran my fingers through his hair, which only seemed to spur him on. Again he licked the walls of my vagina before extracting his tongue and starting to alternate between licking and sucking on my clit, which was driving me closer to going over the edge. “Just a little bit more,” I cooed, “I’m almost there.”

It felt like I was on a beach lying in the sand as wave after wave of my orgasm crashed into me. Just as I began to recover, another consumed me. “God damn, Josh, keep going, don’t stop,” I moaned. I had no idea how long that long-overdue release lasted; all I knew was that my son had just given me an unbelievable experience and I was feeling extremely grateful. He had also unmistakably proven to me that he knew his way around a woman’s body. If he fucks like he eats pussy, I thought, he’s going to make some lucky girl very happy. Those thoughts were a little disconcerting, though, because I was also thinking of taking things further with him myself.

When I finally came back around and my senses were back about me, Josh was slowly licking my secretions from the inside of my thighs. After he wiped some of my juices from his face, he spoke.

“Was that okay, Mom?”

It was way more than just okay. “It was amazing,” I honestly gushed.

“I’ve never been with anyone who’s gotten this wet.”

“You were right, it’s been a while.”

He was looking longingly into my eyes and I knew it was time for me to uphold my part of our deal. I still had a lot of lingering doubts about the soundness of our agreement, but he’d taken such good care of me it was only fair that I reciprocate. “Why don’t you lie back on the couch and let me take care of you,” I said shyly.

He stood up and slowly pulled his gym shorts and boxers down his long thighs, and his large, very-erect cock sprang free from the tight confines. God, he’s a big boy, just like his father. I estimated him to be about seven inches with a thick shaft and a large mushroom head that was dripping pre-cum. He sat back on the couch and I slid between his legs. I was still a little embarrassed about the very intimate act I was about to perform on my son, but giving head had always turned me on and this time was no different.

Teasing him, I took one of his testicles into my mouth and gently sucked on the impressive orb.

“God, Mom, yeah, that feels good,” he moaned.

Gently, I worked his other ball into my mouth and rolled both of them around on my tongue. He moved his hands to my hair and lovingly caressed it, which only made me hotter. I let both balls slip out of my mouth; they were already wet and shiny with my saliva. Enough teasing, it’s now or never. I grasped his cock at the base and slowly moved my hand upwards, which produced a large dollop of pre-cum on the tip. Hesitantly, I took him into my mouth. I looked up from between his legs just as his head hit the back cushion on the couch.

“Yeah, Mom, God, that feels amazing.”

I tightened my mouth around the head and slowly worked him in deeper. My saliva was now dripping down his shaft, and it had collected and made a small pool on his balls. Again he wove his hands through my long black hair, and I relaxed my throat and worked him all the way down to the root. My not having much of a gag reflex was a little attribute my ex-husband had always liked and now my son was enjoying. I slowly worked him in and out of my mouth and throat over and over.

I loved hearing the little moans and grunts coming from above me, but when his breathing changed and he began to tense up I decided to slow things down a bit. He definitely had his father’s size, but it was pretty obvious he hadn’t developed his control. If we were going to do this, I wanted it to be good for him, so I decided to prolong it a bit. I opened my mouth and let his cock slip out. His breathing was still deep and ragged, but a few seconds later there was enough oxygen in his lungs to speak.

“God, Mom, that’s just...”

“You’re liking it so far?” I said teasingly.

“I’ve never ... no one has ever ... I’ve never experienced any–”

His words cut off when I plunged him back into my throat again. I ensured my mouth was warm and wet and I put my hands on his thighs. My saliva was now dripping down into his thick dense mat of pubic hair. I started to feel his ass rise off the couch, and I wrapped my lips around the head of his cock and remained motionless so he could fuck my mouth. I thought of stopping again to let him settle down, but I didn’t. At this point, tasting my son’s semen wasn’t something I wanted, but something I needed.

“Oh, God, Mom, I’m ... I’m...”

Yes, give it to me, Son, I shouted inside my head while I held still as volley after volley hit the back of my throat and quickly filled my mouth. He came so much that I had to swallow before he was finished spurting, but I kept the last of it to savor the taste. After a few seconds the thick, heavy bursts subsided. As his breathing was returning to normal, I took a little breath and swallowed the rest of it.

I looked up into my son’s eyes and we both broke into big smiles. “Damn, Mom, did you ... you know ... swallow it?” he asked incredulously.

I could feel my face turn into a deep red ember. “Sometimes I get carried away, I hope it was okay,” I said shyly.

“I haven’t been with many girls yet but ... you know ... none of them have ever done that.”

“I’m a woman, honey, not a high-school girl.”

“I need to find an older woman like you, then,” he said jokingly.

“For now, you should try to find a girl your age and concentrate on making her happy,” I said somewhat more sternly. Unfortunately, the irony wasn’t lost on me. I’d let my son go down on me, then I gave him a blow job and swallowed his semen. I couldn’t help but think I’d lost a little of the moral high ground. On the other hand, my selfish love for my son’s big thick cock and the taste of his voluminous outflow after my long dry spell had me wondering what it would feel like to have him inside my pussy.

“A kid can dream, can’t he?”

A little smile broke across my face. “I suppose so.”

A week later I was horny again and I decided on a different approach. He’d not-so-subtly engaged me in our last mutual oral-sex experience, and because there were still no prospects on my sexual horizon he was all I could think about. We’d both enjoyed our little evening together and I decided to take things further with him. I knew it was what we both wanted. I saw the way he looked at me now, how his eyes lingered over my body when we were together. I knew this was in no way a permanent solution to our mutual dry-spell, but he’d handled our little encounter so well I decided to try to push things further with him and hope he’d be okay with it.

It was Friday night and I told him we were going to celebrate the three-month anniversary of our move to Las Vegas with a nice dinner I’d prepared. I’d made his favorite meal, lasagna, and I paired it with a salad of feta cheese crumbles, pine nuts, and a strawberry vinaigrette dressing with a fresh loaf of artisan parmesan-crusted bread. I’d also purchased a nice bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon that would go perfectly with our meal. I had him wear a suit and tie, which I knew he didn’t appreciate, but I hoped that when he saw what I was wearing it would more than make up for the minor inconvenience.

After I got dinner mostly ready I changed clothes and dressed to please him. I put on a mini-skirt, a blouse with a deep V cut, no bra or panties, high heels, and bright red lipstick, the historical signal that a woman performed fellatio. He gave me an appreciative wolf-whistle when I entered the living room to join him.

“Wow, Mom, you look great! Got a hot date?”

I blushed and then sat down beside him. “Not yet, Son. I’m hoping to have one with you.”

While we were enjoying my delicious meal we had a chance to talk, and I hoped it would be a conversation where I could move things forward, so to speak.

“So, the nice dinner, the wine, what’s all of this about?” he asked.

I had to admit it had been a while since I’d cooked for him and I’d actually missed it, missed taking care of him like this and doing something special for him. “I was hoping this would be something you’d like.”

“I love it, but I ... you know ... can’t help but think this has something to do with last week.”

“Maybe it does,” I said coyly. “You seemed to enjoy everything we did.”

“Oh, I did, no doubt about it, but I think you did as well.”

“I really loved it,” I honestly admitted.

He took a sip of his wine and then looked seriously into my eyes. “I’m glad that we’re able to have dinner and talk, because I’ve been thinking about you and I’ve decided I want more.”

More? “What do you mean? I thought you liked it when I ... you know ... took you in my mouth.” I’d thought of going further with him all week and it was very erotic to me that he was initiating this conversation, because it made me realize that this was something that he wanted too.

“I loved it.” He thought for a moment. “I used to listen when you were with Dad and when you brought that guy home after he left.”

That frank admission was both embarrassing and just a little disconcerting. “What did you hear?”

“You like it rough, don’t you?”

Oh, shit, I thought, this could get weird in a hurry. But I had to be honest with him; that was our agreement. “Yes, sometimes,” I shly admitted.

“From what I heard, it was a lot more than sometimes. I used to jerk off listening to the sound of a hand slapping your ass and hearing you cry out begging for more.”

God, how mortifying. He heard all that? Being this frank and honest with him was difficult, but I also felt my pussy begin to moisten when I realized that my son had this type of intimate knowledge of what I liked sexually. “So where does this leave us?” I asked cautiously. What he said next shocked me to my inner core.

“Stand up and take off your blouse,” he ordered.

Now he wants to take control of me? While his words were quite unexpected, they were also far from unwelcome. I stood and started to slowly unbutton my blouse, letting my hips start to move from side to side. I let the blouse slide down my arms and onto the floor behind me.

“Bend forward, lean over the coffee table.”

I didn’t think, I just obeyed. My big breasts swayed away from my body. He reached up and took them in his hands, and then he rubbed his thumbs over my nipples, which caused them to stiffen, and I let out a little moan.

“Now the skirt,” he commanded.

I stood up straight, opened the zipper, and let it fall around my feet. I stood there, proudly naked except for my stiletto heels, in front of my son.

“You’re so fuckin’ sexy,” he said with a smile.

I always hated it when he swore, but in that hedonistic moment I decided to let it slide.

“No panties,” he said erotically. “You need to be punished, don’t you?”

My wetness was now dripping onto my inner thighs. “Yes, I do,” I whispered.

He took my hand firmly. “Bend over my knee,” he said huskily.

Oh, God, he’s really going to spank me. Little bolts of electricity that were tingling in the pit of my stomach seemed to reverberate between my legs. I turned sideways, laid my body down over my son’s lap, and rested my head on the cushion next to his thigh. He rubbed his hand slowly over my ass and I closed my eyes, enjoying the sensation of his light, gentle touch. Then, without warning, he raised his hand and brought it down hard on one of my ass cheeks.

“Oh,” I sensually moaned.

“Did you like that?”

“Yes,” I admitted shyly. “Just a little bit harder,” I said in a low, mortified tone. I was conflicted; I loved being spanked, but Josh taking control and me submitting to his will was a little disconcerting. He raised his hand again.

Smack!

“Oh, God,” I moaned. My body tensed up and I heard the cracking sound of his hand meeting my tender flesh again as it echoed off the walls. I knew from past experience that my ass was turning a deep shade of red. “I love that, baby, more,” I moaned.

The gloves came off. For the next minute he rained down blow after blow of heavy whacks on my ass. About halfway through, my bottom went numb and almost subconsciously I ground my pussy against his thigh. Almost as suddenly as the spanking started, it stopped, and I watched as he shook his hand, presumably trying to get some feeling back into it.

I kept my head on the cushion and closed my eyes. I’d been spanked countless times in the past, but this experience felt very foriegn to me. As much as I loved it, I was still attempting to wrap my mind around my son taking control and freely giving him the control that he obviously desired. He moved his hand down to my pussy and I opened my legs, exposing the most intimate region of my body to my son. His fingers gently rubbed the lips of my vagina.

“I’ve never been with anyone who’s gotten this wet,” he said in a deep, low tone.

I wasn’t sure how to respond to him, but then I decided to just be truthful. “Spankings have always done that to me,” I embarrassingly admitted. I let out a little grunt when he eased two of his fingers deep inside me.

“Tell me what you want now.”

He was slowly moving his fingers in and out of me, toying with me, building that lust and desire that I’d kept in check for the past three months. “I need to feel you inside me.”

“Here on the couch?”

“No, in my bed.” I wanted our first time to be special. In high school, I’d given up my virginity in the back seat of a car and I’d always regretted that. If we were going to do this, I wanted us to do it right.

He effortlessly lifted me from his lap and took my hand, and we walked into my bedroom. He released my hand and I slid into the center of the bed and looked up at him. He slowly began to undress. First he took off his suit coat, then his tie and dress shirt, then his shoes, pants, and socks. When he slid his boxers down his muscular thighs, his thick, erect cock popped out and pointed towards the ceiling.