Copyright© 2003

There was a young lady of Kent,
Who admitted she knew what it meant
When men asked her to dine,
And plied her with wine,
She knew, oh she knew -- but she went!

I have this little problem!

Its really my own fault - of course - and I can not admit that I regret the path that lay to where I now find myself in. Yet I feel so dirty, so naughty and so vulgar and do you want to know something - I love it!

Every minute of the day I think about it - all the times that I gave in to him... to my own lust. It was the burning of my soul that started it - the passion that a middle-aged woman experiences so that every thought was hinged with sex. I could be making supper, perhaps chopping large carrots, and I would think sex. The carrots becoming sexy orange phallus symbols to my hot passionate mind. I was becoming insatiable!

My husband was less than empathetic. Our sex life had increased lately, from my own aggression, yet never more than once a week. I begged, I prostituted my body to my husband - if only he would fuck me, suck me, let me be a slut for the man whom I gave my marriage vows too those many years before.

It did not start consciously - I did not wake up one day and think that I was going to seduce my son.

Yet that is exactly what happened - my husband had left early to go golfing, as he does every Saturday morning - and as I opened the doorway to my sons' room, there it was hard and pointing toward the ceiling. God - just thinking about the first look at my son's grown-up cock still gives me a rush that ends between my legs. It was half as much longer than my husbands and twice as wide - a fucking work of art and that first look made my mouth water and my knees weak.

I can not even say that what I did next was willing, since in my own memory its like a distant dream, real but cloudy. I don't need to go into details here - but I strode into my son's room and nothing has been the same since.

I love my husband - never doubt that. My obsession with my son, with what lay between his legs, is beyond my control. Thats what I've resolved after these few months of bliss. Of course my husband does not know - and can never know - but that is part of the problem, Glen is becoming much more demanding and uninhibited!

As I said - its only part of the problem. There are so many layers - how do I start?

In the beginning Glen was like a puppy - ready to please, his cock always hard when his horny mother beckoned him. Those first weeks were like a private little haven - where we indulged in conservative sex whenever I could arrange at least a few hours alone in the house together. It felt so clandestine, so nasty to me - that I loved it. He was my own personal boy-toy, and his massive cock gave me more pleasure than I thought I would ever have again from a man.

Perhaps when I started to become more casual for my son - laying with him afterwards, talking about what turned us on and me getting turned on by and what I thought about what we were doing. And even innocent things my son desired to do with me.

Not since early in my marriage did I wear the lingerie that I wore for my son Glen - and I loved how his eyes lite up the first time he saw me in stockings, garters, heels and push-up bra. That, of course, only enticed me to dress in sexy clothing more often for my son.

What forty three year old woman can not stop the pleasure that roared through her heart, mind and soul as a young man lusts so openly after her. Looks upon her with eyes that she had not felt or seen in so very long - not even by her own husband.

For me - that it was my own son that looked at me in this way, only heightened the lust that coursed through my veins.

Alone in the house, dressed so provocatively - my body roared with a blaze that my son could only extinguish. And he often hosed my fire down at least twice, often as much as four times in any given afternoon.

Laying sated and in the arms of my illicit lover and son, I would ask him what he thinks about, what he desires... where, when and how. It turned me on - the things that he whispered to me. At first he was shy and tentative - but he opened up when he realized that his fantasies soon became my own, and we often lived them out not long after the telling.

That is how I began to suck on my son's large beautiful cock. Its not the first cock I've taken into my mouth, of course, but it was the first that I sucked to completion. It was nasty, a mother sucking her son until she half-chocked on his pumping nectar - and I loved every second!

Nothing seemed impossible for us - our secret affair safe in the veil of our lust.

Perhaps I should mention that my son, at this period in our relationship, followed my requests that outside our rendezvous we continue to be mother and her son. In the first weeks after that first Saturday morning it was not so difficult as you may think. I simply had a secret lover with a huge ready cock and it had nothing to do with my husband. Glen had a more difficult time of it those first weeks - his eyes following me, remembering and thinking about the next time we could be together.

Oh, I am not so innocent myself. As our relationship progressed, I could not be in the same room as my son and feel his masculine presence - can not stop thinking about what his seed tastes like, his hardness between my legs as it moved so deliciously and filled me like I have never been filled in my life. Even the smell of him - as he works himself into a lather as he pumps rapidly into his mother. As the weeks progressed, it was becoming increasingly difficult to be maternal with my son.

I should thank god that my husband is so self absorbed that he has never noticed anything between his child and I!

The first time I let my son enter my ass was painful and filled with exquisite bliss all mixed together. My son professed to love just the sight of my ass over my large breasts or shapely legs. Our talks progressed to his fingers or tongue pressing into my rectum, and knowing my son's desires, felt my own mirroring his own - and loved the attention back there! Having his penis enter me was only natural. He was clean, gentle and considerate as he did everything to ease this first for us both. It took almost ninety minutes, that first time, until I was relaxed enough for his fat circumcised penis to enter me. That first Saturday morning when I felt his cock fill and reach further into me than ever before is nothing like having that same beautiful large cock pierce your virgin ass hole. By the time he was able to move within me I was thrashing about his bed in passion, waves of orgasm shooting through me.

If having an affair with your teenage son is not enough, telling your best friend had to be the stupidest thing I could have done. No I did not reveal that it was my son and as much as she tried to pry it from me, would not reveal whom the lover is with the large gorgeous cock that took my anal cherry.

Sherry hung on my every word - asking for details politely throughout my stories. She laughingly joked that our weekly chats were enough to fuel her own fantasies for the rest of her week - better masturbation material than even the smut on the Internet.

I laughed with her and naively felt privileged to be the one with the lover and not the one only hearing about it. Unlike my husband, Sherry's had not touched her in months.

Glen and I had graduated from fornicating in his bed to any place in our large comfortable home. I bent over the kitchen table and screamed as my son ploughed me from behind. Or I above my son, on the expensive leather couch in the living room, bouncing rapidly. And one of my personal favourites - with him seated on the side of the jacuzzi tub while I knelt nearly submerged in the water and sucked him off.

I should describe that I'm not a forty-three year-old woman with the body half my age, or the face of a teenager. I wish it was true! My body could be described as comfortable with still an attractive hourglass shape that I worked hard to keep. My face is attractive - but I looked my age. OK, you want it cold and raw; I have thick fake-red hair that is straight but has my bangs cut in front, I have average 'C' cup breasts with wide dark nipples which hang lower than they did when I was twenty, I have white stretch marks on my lower abdomen from carrying Glen before he was born, I have a thick curly brown trimmed pussy and I keep my outer labia bare since Glen and I have become lovers, my waist is small so that my hips flare out provocatively, my ass is larger than I would like as it thrusts out from my back but Glen can not get enough of it so I guess it is just fine, my legs would have to be my favourite part of my body as they are still shapely and strong and look damned fine in hose and high heels.

In the first weeks my son worshipped me - I saw it in his eyes and I would jokingly tell him to blink more often. As the weeks passed, he became more comfortable with my body but still his eyes would feast upon me - taking what I had to offer and enjoying.

A woman needs to know that she has a man who lusts over her - a man who can not get enough of looking at her, imperfections and all, and his eyes betrayed his lust. That it was my son looking at me this way only intensified the feminine feelings that I felt, the love.

The first time I saw a man masturbate, while he watched me do the same - which was also a first, my passion for our relationship rose to new heights. All because a man could look upon me, stroke his rock hard dick and eventually orgasm and stayed hard until I came by my own hand a minute later.

How can any sane middle-aged woman turn away from such mutual lust? How can she deny that man anything he may want?

I look back and think of it like a old fashioned scale; the one side weighted down is me, up to the time Glen and I began the new stage of our relationship. As we progressed, as I fell so completely in love and lust for him, the scale began to shift so that his side began to lower and my own raise. That scale symbolizes the one who held the upper hand in our relationship, the more dominant one of the two of us.

A small grasp of my breast when his father is only in the next room seemed acceptable. I did not initiate it but I did not deny my son anything, I could not! He would stand behind me and grind his hardness into the crack of my ass as both his hands grappled my covered chest. His lips whispering his love for me into my ear between licks of his tongue on my neck.

Even at the height of our sexual marriage, my husband and I never acted this way - he never felt the desire to touch his willing wife so provocatively. And never in the kitchen, with me standing over a sink filled with dirty dishes and arms sunk in the sudsy water to the elbow!

I was the luckiest woman in the world and though I knew the scales of our relationship was tipping in my son's favour, I could care less.

Of all my little problems, that is probably the most significant. That I willing succumbed to my son's naturally emerging sexual aggression and desires.

His eyes still lusted for his mother whenever I dropped my robe revealing my latest lingerie combination but it also held something new, something that I have never seen in my young man ever before.

Just a month into our new relationship and I knew what that new glint in my son's eye was, power! And do you want to know something - it turned me on even more!

The first hint of Glen's use of his newfound power while having sex with me occurred not long after the ass-grinding tit-fondling incident. With my son seated at the tail end of his parents bed while his mother knelt between his gorgeous sculptured thighs and worshipped his penis with my mouth. His father was due home within the hour and Glen and I had just enjoyed a few hours of mutual pleasure. We had separated and I had thought our time together for the day at an end - but as I came from my bathroom wearing only a towel I found him seated naked at the end of my bed.

"I want you to suck me mom?" He made it sound like a question but it really wasn't. Did this middle-aged horny woman care? Of course not. Her man still desired her after hours of fornicating, wanted her to suck his soiled huge cock.

With a smile on my lips and my tender vagina rekindling with a fire that only Glen could start, I knelt between his thighs. Having had his penis in my mouth many a time, up to this moment, I knew what my son liked. I wrapped both my hands about the fat base of his penis, since one hand could not reach all the way around his circumference, and began by licking the head of his penis until it was slick with saliva - and only then did I opened my mouth wide and lowered my face. With my hands moving in unison, my face bobbed up and down my son's hard cock I could taste our earlier juices and savoured it as nectar of our mutual love.

There is nothing extraordinary about this tale, except perhaps my son's bold request for a blow job, until almost the end. Hearing the sounds and feeling his cock tightening - knowing what was about to happen... wanting it to happen - when Glen grasped my head and firmly withdrew me from his cock. It began to shoot its sperm upon my astonished but delighted face as he gasped, "Stroke it mom... stroke it... !" I did, using both my hands, and Glen was soon gasping and looking at me wildly - my face now covered in his thick cream.

It was the most wild and bold thing I have ever done in my life and I loved it. I could see that he loved it - which, if you had understood anything up to now, only intensified my pleasure.

Gently he stroked my wet hair, thanking me, telling me how much he loved me - then laughed and told me to go have another shower.

Striding back into the bathroom - a quick glance in the mirror revealed a woman that I've never seen before. A woman that was wilder and sexier than I ever considered myself and I fell in love with that woman. I needed her in my life - to feel whole, to feel complete.

Things progressed much faster after that point - my end of the scale rapidly rising.

When we were alone together - Glen took the initiative in our joining. I let him and felt the ecstasy of submitting my sexuality to another human being. A man, whom, I trusted and loved like no other in my whole life. It was enlightening to give up total control of your pleasure - to know that your desires were at the whim of another. Every waking moment was filling with horny desires and thoughts about what we had done, and fantasizing what my son was going to do with me next!

Even before he started to use words of possession with his mother - calling me his woman, his only love - we lived it.

At this time my husband and I still had our weekly scheduled marital fornication - but it lacked colour and volume compared to my young lover. My husband grunted between my spread legs, the lights out, in our bed, and his body sweating on me. I was bored, I was unsatisfied.

Some women may have brought their lover into their marriage bed with her husband - if only within the mind of the unsatisfied woman of course. Yet that felt perverted to me - wrong to think of my son as my middle-aged balding husband ejaculated his scheduled sperm into my barely-wet vagina.

When my son asked, and he did each Monday - the day after my marital constitutional - I would tell him. Glen never wanted details, and only asked if his dad and I 'fucked'. It was the first common use of a vulgar word between us and it was used to describe my passionless marriage bed. Of course I told him what he wanted to know - would tell him anything he wanted to know at that point in our relationship.

The thing was, each Monday my son would ignore me - not even finding a moment, even when alone, to touch me. Of course it was the knowledge that his father and I had been intimate that cooled his passion - if only for a single day. I had no answer for the dilemma that Monday's professed to be.

Sherry still hung upon my every word - so that I was sinfully bragging my sexual exploits with my nameless lover to her weekly. Finding her reaction almost amusing - how her eyes glared at me without blinking and her face turned red and her skin shone with sweat and her nipples stood at attention. Was this only a small taste of the power my son had over me?

I told her how my young lover could not get enough of my tight rear passage or ejaculating on my face. I would tell her of the more memorable exploits from that week, the details becoming more lurid and verbose at the re-telling.

She admitted that she had bought her first sex toys - a dildo the size that I described my young man's cock to be and a vibrator half the size. Sherry confessed to me her own memorable masturbation sessions, revealing the parts of my tales that caused her the most passion. And smiled with pride that she shyly told me that she could not get the large dildo into her rectum, no matter how much she tried - but regularly used the smaller vibrator instead.

Her reactions were turning me on and in a quiet post-climatic moment with my son, I told him about Sherry, our talks and her vibrators.

Of course I was naive - telling the man I lusted and loved so deeply about the passions another woman confessed for the nameless lover of her best friend. Yet, my young lover and son could not hear enough about Sherry and it even added to our sexual relationship. He would add flavour to our relationship - only so that I could tell it to Sherry and a week later, return to tell Glen what she had been doing to herself when she masturbated to the original acts we had done.