"As with my previous stories, the sexual contact related in the story is an expression of my desire for my son. Not everything narrated truly happened. However, the situations were real. I will leave it to the reader's imagination to determine which parts actually occurred. The rest are my passionate fantasies. I let my desires propel the story to describe what I wish would happen with my son."

There was a period in my life when things did not go well. I was divorced and feeling very inadequate and lonely. My son Josh, who was in college at this time, was a great comfort to me and spent a lot of time with me. However, I still found myself feeling sad and lonely and would tear up easily whenever we talked about times past.

Whenever I was blue, Josh would hold me and stoke my hair and assure me everything was going to be all right. During that time we became closer and more connected than I ever thought possible. We really enjoyed our evenings together having meals and watching TV. I never paid much attention to the way Josh dressed at night but did finally notice that he no longer wore a pajama shirt. Only his pajama pants. I'll admit I did like looking at his physic and the firmness of his body. We usually would sit beside each other on the couch. I in my nightgown or nightshirt, he in his PJ bottoms.

One evening something on TV struck a nerve and I got sad. Josh noticed and pulled me close to him putting his arm around me. I snuggled up to him with my head resting on his chest. It felt strange with my head on his naked chest realizing that he did not have anything on except his PJ bottom. We stayed like that for quite awhile just enjoying the closeness. From time to time, Josh would run his hand up and down my back, which felt so nice. It all seemed perfectly natural and innocent.

After that night, Josh would sometimes put his arm around me and pull me close to him; even when I wasn't feeling sad. I thought this was ok and that there certainly was nothing abnormal about a son and mother being close like that. One night, as I lay with my head on Josh's chest, he leaned back onto the arm of the sofa which put us in a more reclined position. My head naturally moved a little lower on his body and was now resting nearer to his stomach; I put my hand on his stomach and just relaxed. Josh began to rub my back with the hand that was around my shoulder. He then took his other hand and put in on my arm and rubbed it. As he moved that hand up and down my arm, it would brush against my breast, which was pushed against his side. It all still felt very innocent and nice. I looked down and noticed that his dick was beginning to rise in his PJ bottom. I thought oh my gosh, he is getting aroused. I didn't move or say anything, as I did not want to embarrass him and thought that it may have been an involuntary reaction.

A couple of nights later this was repeated. Josh pulling me to him. Me laying my head on his chest and stomach and him getting an erection. It was exciting to know that I was having that affect on my son, but I also knew that it was wrong for me to get turned on by my son.

One night, his dick poked out of his pajama fly and was right there for me to see. Josh made no attempt to move or cover up. Maybe he wasn't certain that I was looking, but I don't see how that was possible. I was looking and studied its length and width with my eyes. I found myself wanting to touch it but did not have the nerve to do so. While this was taking place, Josh was rubbing my back and took his other hand and let it rest on my breast. I wasn't certain that this was intentional. He wasn't playing with my breast, just resting his hand on it. However, I saw his dick twitch several times when he touched me.

For some reason, I decided to get a little bolder and I let my hand slowly move down his stomach. When I reached the waistband of his pajama bottoms, I stopped and left it there. My fingers were only a few inches away from his dick, but I couldn't allow myself to go any further. My senses told me that I was his mother not his girlfriend. I could not let myself to go down this forbidden path. But, the woman in me needed more; wanted more. I felt my resistance and reluctance start to fade, or maybe a better admission is my lust as a woman won the battle over my propriety as a mother.