Chapter 9

That night, I lay awake a long time. I thought to myself that I’d done something very wrong. And it was even worse that I’d enjoyed it. And worse still that I’d do it again, if given the opportunity.

I knew it should be wrong to want to have sex with your mother. It must be wrong. But that night, lying awake in the top bunk, I tried to ponder exactly why it was supposed to be wrong.

I could rationalize all I wanted to, but my mind kept coming back to two indisputable facts.

The first was that both of us had been willing participants. True enough, I hadn’t known it was Mom when I was fondling her breasts. I had thought it was Susan. And again, when I thought Mom had swum out to the raft and that Susan was sucking me. I was honest enough with myself to admit that the problem was that I would’ve done the same thing both times even if I had known it was Mom instead of Susan. I might not have been so bold about it, but given the opportunity, I’d have done it.

The second fact was simpler to analyze. I’d enjoyed playing with Mom’s breasts, and I’d enjoyed her sucking me. Even now that I knew it had been her and not Susan, I still felt tremendous excitement as I remembered events.

In the end, I couldn’t come up with a good reason why it should be wrong. As long as no one got hurt, and everyone understood what was going on, why should it be wrong? I loved my mother very much. And I knew she loved me. But I guess I’ve always known (from the comfortable perspective only a man can have, I imagine) that sex and love sometimes had very little to do with each other.

I don’t know if I was being rational, or simply too screwed up to realize that I was screwed up. Late in the night, with the sound of crickets chirping as the backdrop for my thoughts, I decided I wasn’t screwed up. And finally, I drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, Mom woke me up early. I was slow to wake up, having spent what seemed like half the night lying awake in bed.

As I sleepily opened my eyes, Mom smiled up at me.

“Time to get up, honey,” she said in a low voice. “You’ve got to finish up at Susan’s today.”

“Okay, Mom,” I mumbled.

As I blinked sleep from my eyes and shook the fuzziness from my thoughts, I had a moment of panic.

What if Mom knew that I knew?! But that was circular logic. She couldn’t have known. I’d touched Susan’s leg, not Mom’s. And Mom didn’t know that I’d touched Susan, didn’t know I knew that she was warm and dry, when she should’ve been cold and wet.

Mom and Susan had set things up pretty elaborately, and I was certain they were in it together. At least last night they were in it together. Thinking back, that must’ve been what they were talking about when they had their low-voiced conversation in the lake. I felt certain that I was right.

As I mulled over in my mind the events of the previous night, I slowly began climbing down the ladder. Mom was sitting on her bed brushing her hair as I walked by rubbing my eyes. I shut the bathroom door and lifted the lid of the toilet.

When I went to pee, I realized that I couldn’t. I looked down, my thoughts still swirling, and panic clutched at my heart like talons. I had a morning hard-on! That, in and of itself, was nothing unusual. The fact that I’d just climbed down out of bed and walked across the room in front of Mom, with the aforementioned hard-on was unusual. I hadn’t even been paying attention!

I shrugged it off. There was nothing I could do about it now. And, I chuckled evilly, it wasn’t like she hadn’t seen me with an erection before. And more besides!

So I brushed my teeth and combed my hair and as I concentrated on those routine tasks, my erection subsided enough for me to pee.

When I opened the door to the bathroom, Mom was still sitting on the bed brushing her hair.

I smiled sheepishly at her, deciding not to even mention my erection, and walked out of the bathroom.

“Seeya, Mom,” I said with a wave.

“Bye, honey.”

I opened the cabin door and then pushed open the screen door. I caught it before it could slam shut behind me and I suddenly laughed at myself. I was becoming nice in my old age!

When I got to Susan’s house, she was once again sitting out in the courtyard drinking a glass of juice.

“Morning,” she said pleasantly, smiling at me.

“Morning.”

“You look tired.”

“Mmm hmm,” I said, then yawned to punctuate my answer.

“Didn’t sleep well?” she asked, standing up and moving toward the kitchen door.

“Slept fine. Just was up late.”

“Oh?”

“Thinking,” I said as we entered the coolness of the kitchen.

“Is it what I think you were thinking about?”

“Probably.”

“You want to talk about it?” she asked solicitously.

“Yeah. I think I do,” I said, surprising myself as much as her.

“Over breakfast?”

I shook my head. “Breakfast can wait, I guess.”

She turned and led me into the living room. Once there, she turned on one of the end table lamps and motioned for me to sit on the couch.

When I’d seated myself, she sat facing me, close but not touching me.

“Are you upset at what happened?” she asked gently.

“No,” I answered immediately. “Er, yes. No. Um, I don’t know.”

“Wow, you do sound like you need to talk.”

“I don’t think I’m upset. And I guess I should be, but I’m not,” I said, turning to face her. “Does that make sense?”

“Yes,” Susan said gently.

“I enjoyed it. I really did.”

“That’s understandable.”

“But the problem is, I don’t think it was wrong. Is that wrong?”

“No,” she said, surprising me.

I looked at her blankly.

“I imagine that most young men have sexual fantasies about their mothers.”

“Really?” I asked, incredulity plain on my face.

“Probably. I’m pretty sure Kirk and Doug did.”

“Oh.”

“It’s natural, and nothing to be worried about.”

“But...”

“And I would also imagine that it’s not uncommon for mothers to have sexual fantasies about their sons.”

“Huh?” I said in shock.

“You heard me.”

I nodded, still running through the implications of what she’d said.

“I know I certainly did,” she said matter-of-factly.

“You did?”

“Sure. Kirk and Doug are good-looking young men. I may be their mother, but I’m also a woman.”

“I guess,” I said, doubtfully.

“Think about it for a second and it’ll make sense. Who’s the person you love most in the world?”

I merely blinked at her.

“Your mother. When your hormones start raging, you sometimes fantasize about the most beautiful woman in your life. Your mother,” she repeated. “And as a mother, when your son develops into a young man full of hormones, with uncontrollable erections, it’s flattering. I’ll tell you that from personal experience.”

“You mean you had fantasies about your sons?”

She nodded soberly. “But there were times when I was this close,” she said, holding her thumb and finger up less than an inch apart, “to doing something more than fantasizing.”

“Really?”

She nodded again. “Do you have fantasies about your mom?” she asked gently.

“Yeah,” I said softly, not looking at her.

“You’re lucky, then.”

I looked up at her, my eyes full of unasked questions.

“You know if some of your fantasies are as good as reality.”

I nodded and swallowed hard. “You don’t think it’s wrong?”

“No,” she said gently and put her hand on my thigh. “I think you’re lucky. And your mom is very lucky.”

I could only nod, deep in thought, trying to wrap my mind around the implications of what she’d just told me.

“You’ve got to promise me something, Paul,” she said, taking my right hand between both of her own and waiting until I looked at her. She held my eyes with hers. “You’ve got to promise me that you’ll never tell your mom that I told you what I’m about to tell you.”

“O-o-okay,” I stammered.

“Say it.”

“I promise. I’ll never breathe a word of it.”

“Yesterday, she came over to the house and we had a long talk.”

I raised my eyebrows. I was so wrapped up in my own world yesterday that I’d had little time to pay attention to what Mom or Susan were doing. Not that I would’ve noticed, even if I’d thought about it.

“Uh-huh. She wanted to ask my advice. About you.”

“Me?”

“You. She told me about stroking you in the lake on Friday night. Do you have any idea what made her do that?”

I shook my head, feeling certain that she was going to tell me. I wasn’t disappointed.

“She’d seen us earlier that day.”

I looked at her blankly. “Seen us?”

“Remember I’d been teasing you all morning?”

I nodded.

“And remember how you bent me over the table in the courtyard and fucked me from behind?”

I nodded again, my penis twitching with the memory.

“Well, your mom had come by the house to ask you to add the Cokes to your grocery list. She saw us having sex.”

My jaw dropped.

“Do you remember when we were driving by the clubhouse and she flagged us down? She was flustered, and kept looking at you funny?”

I did remember!

“She knew we were having sex.”

I began to panic. If Mom knew that Susan and I were having sex, would she put a stop to things?! Would she tell my father?! My mind was ablaze with possibilities, most of them unpleasant.

“It’s okay, Paul. She was actually kind of thankful it was me and not someone else. She trusts me. She still does trust me. And,” she paused to make sure I was paying attention, “it excited her.”

I raised my eyebrows in disbelief.

Susan nodded. “Uh-huh.” She let that sink in for a few moments. “What she wanted to talk about yesterday was how she felt about things. She wanted my advice. She told me she’d been thinking about you ... thinking about you sexually. That’s when she told me about fondling you in the lake.

“She wanted someone to tell her she wasn’t a bad mother. I told her that I’d had fantasies about Kirk and Doug too, and that she was perfectly normal, not a bad mother. So then last night, I knew she was going to tease you some more. She enjoyed it, the feel of your erection.”

Talking about my erection from last night caused a fresh one to develop. Susan smiled at my reaction.

“We didn’t plan on getting you mixed up rubbing our shoulders. That was an accident. She told me she realized when I took my bikini bottoms off that you wouldn’t be able to tell whose ass was whose. So she backed up. She was enjoying teasing you, but she started getting into it when your dick rubbed across her pussy.

“And you thought she was me. After all, who else would tease you like that?” Susan smiled ruefully. “So when you started fondling her breasts, you really got her worked up. I didn’t know anything about it at the time; I couldn’t see a thing.

“But I could tell something was up when you slipped inside of me. I didn’t know what it was at the time, but I knew something had happened with you and your Mom. Then she told me she wanted to suck you, that she couldn’t wait to taste you. I asked if she was sure, and she said she was very sure.

“So we worked it out. She said she was going to swim out to the raft. We knew you’d recognize her voice. Then I swam out instead, and she came back to suck you off. You probably wouldn’t have figured it out quickly either, if you hadn’t put your hand on my leg on the raft.”

I nodded, reluctantly admitting she was probably right. There were differences between the way Susan sucked me and the way Mom sucked me, but I wouldn’t have thought of it at the time. Now, looking back, the differences were startlingly obvious.

“She enjoyed sucking you. She was telling me about it after you left to head up to the clubhouse. I could tell she was masturbating as she talked. It was dark but she was only a few feet away from me. I didn’t tell her you touched my leg, or that you knew about our ruse. That’s why I say you’re both so lucky.”

I blinked at her, uncomprehending.

“You got to do what I always wanted to do, but never had the courage.”

We sat quietly for a while after that. I appreciated that she was letting me think. I was playing back in my mind everything that had happened to me in the past few days; more and more little things started clicking into place. Little things that didn’t make sense at the time, but began to fit like pieces of a puzzle, neatly bringing the larger picture into focus.

“Are you okay with things?” she asked.

I nodded.

“You know neither you nor your mom did anything wrong?”

I nodded again, grinning unabashedly.

“Good.”

She smiled at me and reached out to wrap her fingers around my erection. She gave me a smoldering look and licked her lips.

“You liked it when your mom went down on you?”

I swallowed hard and nodded.

Susan slid off the couch and maneuvered between my legs, never taking her hand off my dick. She began stroking my hard-on, looking up at me with a lust-filled expression.

“Tell me what you liked about it,” she purred.

“She took me all the way,” I hissed, intent on the waves of pleasure radiating from her touch, “into her throat.”

“Mmmmm, I’ll have to see if I can still deep throat. It just takes practice...”

That was the first time I’d ever heard the words “deep throat” used. At fifteen, I’d certainly never seen the movie Deep Throat. And in some ways, I’d led a fairly sheltered life. In others ... Well, I was about to become intimately acquainted with what “deep throat” meant.

Susan bent forward and engulfed the head of my penis. She continued stroking me with her left hand while she swirled her tongue around the crown of my cock. Then she began licking up and down the length of my shaft, coating me with her slick saliva.

When she had my length coated, she took me into her mouth as deep as she could. When she clamped her lips around my shaft, only about two inches remained outside her mouth. She took a deep breath through her nose and opened her lips, forcing more of my cock into her mouth.

She clamped her lips down once more, about a half-inch further and breathed deeply. Once again, she opened her lips and forced more of my stiff member into her mouth. When she locked her lips around my girth this time, she squeezed her eyes shut tight and breathed through her nose.

I felt her move her tongue along the underside ridge of my penis then begin to withdraw. She let my dick pop completely out of her mouth and took a deep breath.

With her eyes still closed, she swallowed half my cock in one gulp. Then she pulled back, tossing her head side to side slightly and raking my cock against the smooth insides of her cheeks. She opened her lips and ran her tongue along the underside of my penis, taking me a little further.