Last year when my husband passed away, I had to return to the workforce. He left a modest insurance benefit and we had some savings, but not enough to sustain me and my son, Mark, who had moved home when he lost his job. My name is Sandra and I am 55 years old. I never went to college, but I am nevertheless smarter than your average bear and one special talent I had was twisting men around my little finger. Don’t misconstrue that to mean I am a bitch because I am quite the opposite. I just learned young that the way to a man’s heart was through his penis. A man who gets his cock sucked regularly, can fuck when he wants to, and feel free to explore a few of his darker desires is more times than not a happy, attentive, and loyal partner.
My husband, Jon, and I had lived a good life together. We rarely fought, much less quibbled, and I attribute our success in marriage to ensuring he had his morning blow job at least 5 days a week. To keep him sated, I even watched countless blow job, hand job, edging, deep throat and other orally focused videos on the porn sites. I learned more than sucking techniques. I learned that men love women who love their cum. Love it in their mouths, on their tits and pussies, in their asses, their faces, and drooling down from the corners of their mouths.
Basically, I learned how to worship my husband’s cock and then give him the pleasure of me wearing it or drinking it or slurping it up from his belly. We also fucked a lot, though mornings were reserved for cock worship. Jon loved the feeling of his cum pulsing into my pussy and sometimes he sucked me afterward, which was a huge turn-on for both of us. But what he loved most of all, other than me sucking his cock, was fucking my ass. In fact, I cannot recall a fucking session that did not include his cock alternating between my two holes.
I am telling you this because I want you to know that a married couple can have an awesome, kinky, mutually satisfying sex life. monogamously. But I am no longer married and don’t foresee becoming married, given my age, but my sexual urges are still present; in fact, they have grown since Jon died because I wasn’t having any sex other than masturbatory release. As well, during my marriage I had put away the desire to be with other men, for the sake of our marriage.
I did try Adult Friendfinder for a while and met a several men, but all but one was lay-a-abouts looking for a woman to support them. The one exception was a young man, the age of my son, who was nervously seeking an experience with an older woman. He was unsure of himself, but nevertheless mustered up the courage to put up an ad and meet older women. I sucked him off in his car after we had drinks the first time, and the second time I let him fuck me, again in his car. He lived with roommates and couldn’t afford a motel and I wasn’t going to fund his fun with me, but two times in a car were enough for me. I prefer the comfort of a bed and the freedom to move around. He understood. I told him maybe down the road we could get together if he got his own place or if Mark moved out; so, we stayed in touch through emails and text.
When he heard I was looking for a job, he encouraged me to apply at an office supply company that his father owned. He told me they needed a sales and customer service agent out in the field and suggested I had the perfect personality to succeed at that kind of work. The short story is that after two interviews, one with the father, I was offered the job and I said yes. But more about the job later.
Jon had died from a heart attack. It was unexpected. I was sucking him daily and we fucked pretty much every day and then wham, he died, and suddenly I had no husband and no sex life. My reaction to this went beyond masturbating more often, which I did. I compensated for the lack of sex life but dressing sexier, more provocatively, when I went out shopping or to the bar, but also in my own home. I loved the attention I got while perusing the cucumbers or while tippling on some Chablis at the Keg’s bar down the street. To be honest, though, I had not even thought about what effect dressing this way would have on my son.
Mark grew up in a normal household and in all the years he lived with us after he turned 18, never once was there any hint from him or me about anything sexual. There was nothing taboo about our relationship; I need to make that clear. I know a lot of people have incest fantasies and I have no doubt there are mothers who intentionally seduce their sons and daughters and vice versa, but I was not one of those. Incest was repulsive to me. It was wrong and immoral. It was the last thing I would ever do.
I was naive to think that wearing a teddy down stairs in the morning would not change how Mark looked at me. I should have been more mindful. I may be 55 but if I may be honest, I have one hell of a body. My tits are big, my waist is small, and my hips and ass are respectively curvy and firm and round. I have long legs, pretty feet, and I was pretty, with big dark eyes, classic lips, and a smooth complexion. When I wore a teddy, my tits were half visible as were the bottom curves of my ass. I did wear a thong, but I think that just added to the allure for my son.
For a month or so, he never said anything. He never gawked at me either, though I am sure he enjoyed a lot of natural looks at my body. I did notice he hung out with me more, but I figured he was just being kind to his widowed mother. Once I got the job, he would see me leave each morning dressed like a saleswoman who knows that showing skin and being made up perfectly added to the bottom line.
On the morning of my final interview with the owner, I was nervous and tried on numerous outfits and modelled them for Mark. He asked me what dressing for success looked like for me, and I said, “I want him to know I will do just about anything to land a sale.”
At the time I was wearing a business suit that was rather conservative. Mark looked at me up and down, ran his hand through his hair a few times, his signal for being tentative. “Go on,” I said. “Be honest.”
“Well, mother,” he said softly. “Do you want to…” He paused and then continued. “Do you want him to be aware of all of your assets?”
I still hadn’t clued in. “Assets?”
“Gee, mom, you are making this hard.”
“Just say it, Mark. Please.”
“Okay. Do you want him to get a clear picture of what you have to offer physically, you know, as a woman?”
I was catching on now and I blushed. “Do you mean do I want to dress provocatively?”
Mark nodded. “If you do, that business suit is not an option.”
I walked back into my bedroom and searched my closet. Several minutes later I returned wearing a tight black knit dress that rested at mid-thigh and was rather low cut, revealing not only my ample cleavage but a portion of my white bra.”
Mark smiled. “Do you have a black bra?”
“No.”
“Well your white bra looks kind of, err, sloppy, mom.”
“Oh.” Time was passing and I felt the pressure to make a decision and head over to the interview. I turned around, lifted my dress and unfastened and removed my bra. I was so nervous, I didn’t really think about the view I was affording my son of my big, firm ass that was covered only by the thin cloth of my thong. I lowered my dress and turned around. I looked down to see my hard nipples pressing out through the thin fabric. “Oh my.” I said.
Mark’s ingenuity surprised me. “Mom, I know you have a black sweater. Wear it. It will cover your nipples but give you the option of removing it if it feels right to do so.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. My son was telling me how I could go to the interview braless in a short dress and then go further, if I wanted, by removing my sweater so that the owner could see my hard nipples. I was about to say something about not wanting to give the wrong idea when Mark said, “You better get going or you will be late.”
I looked at my phone. “Shit,” I yelped. I grabbed the sweater from my closet and rushed out of the house. As I said before, I did get that job, so the interview went well, very well – all because of my son and his courage to let me know I had a body that I should show off. I will share more details about the interview later.
This was the first time my son had admitted his mother was hot. I didn’t automatically think anything more about that. It just felt good that he saw me that way and could be honest enough to help me dress for success. That night, I thanked him by making his favorite dinner, prime rib and mashed potatoes, which I prepared still wearing the dress he approved of.
He watched me cook and helped with the peeling of the potatoes. I thanked him several times for his help, though he waved my gratitude off like it was nothing. I told him that, to be honest, it had never dawned on me that he saw me as a woman. “You know,” I added, “A woman with assets.” I smiled. I was facing him when I said that, and I must admit I felt a tinge of something sensual between my legs when I noticed he was staring at my breasts.
I am sure he noticed my cheeks go red, but all he said was. “Mom you are definitely a MILF.” He went immediately red after saying that. “I didn’t mean MILF in term of how I feel.”
I laughed. “It’s okay, Mark. I think you meant to say, for an old broad I am still attractive to men.”
“Yeh,” he mumbled.
“I know I have been dressing differently around the house. I hope you don’t mind.”
“I was surprised to be honest the first time you wore that teddy, but this is your house and you should dress the way you like as far as I am concerned.”
“Thank you, Mark. But if you don’t like it or if it makes you uncomfortable, I don’t have to…”
Mark interrupted me. “No, mom, I like it. I mean if you want to dress sexy, I don’t mind at all.” He smiled when he said that, his eyes still on my breasts.
“Okay, then,” I said. “While the prime rib is in the oven, I am going to go change into something more comfortable.” I would have done that anyway, but now, once in my bedroom, the thought of what Mark might like entered my mind. His words triggered my history of doing things to please a man and while I had no intention of pleasing him like I did Jon or any other man for that matter, I figured dressing in a pleasing way for my son was no biggie and certainly not a betrayal of a traditional mother-son relationship – or so I told myself.
Dinner would be late – maybe 7:30 which meant by the time we were done, and I had cleaned up, my bedtime would not be far off. So, I picked a pale pink bra and panty set from my top drawer and then put on a long semi-transparent pink robe I used to wear for Jon in the bedroom. I looked in the mirror and I couldn’t keep down a small smile. I looked good. I was dressed sexy, but I was covered. Nevertheless, I wanted Mark to approve, wanted him to enjoy seeing his mother as a sexual creature.
What I did next was what made my attire provocative. I slipped on a pair of black nylon stay-ups and a pair of black high heels. I was acting a bit risqué but when I walked into the kitchen and saw the look on Mark’s face, I knew I had made the right choice.
“Mom! Wow!”
The oven timer dinged, and Mark jumped up. “Let me,” he said, his eyes clearly taking me in. While he cut the roast and drained the Brussel sprouts, I sat at the end of the table, facing in his direction, my legs crossed, which caused the robe to open to reveal my legs and thighs. It was so open it showed the flesh above the nylons.
He watched me while he cut the roast. “Too bad you can’t wear that to work, mom.”
I laughed. “Yeh that would be too much, but here at home I think it’s okay, don’t you?”
That’s when he knicked himself with the carving knife. “Shit,” he winced.
My motherly instincts took over and while he rinsed his finger off in the sink, I scurried to the bathroom to get anti-septic and a band-aid. I was in such a hurry I didn’t notice that my robe and become untied. I wiped his finger, applied the anti-septic and then the band-aid. I leaned in and kissed his cheek. “I am sorry if I distracted you.”
You might think me daft but even now I wasn’t thinking about anything untoward about my son. Sure, I had likely broken some kind of unspoken rule dressing the way I did, but to me it was all about being comfortable in my own skin in front of my appreciative, supportive son.
But in an instant, that changed.
Mark hugged me and whispered “thanks” in my ear, with his hands on each of my ass cheeks. He pulled me closer. “I appreciate your care, mother.” We were crotch to crotch, and I could feel his appreciation and while I lingered there a bit too long, I did pull away.
“Mark,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “That’s not something we should be doing?”
“Hugging?”
“Hugging LIKE that, Mark. Your hands…and pulling me in…I mean, really.”
“I am sorry, mom. I wasn’t thinking.”
I wanted to say that his penis was doing the thinking for him, but I didn’t. I was standing there in shock, but I also knew my pussy was wet. My son’s hard cock pressed up against me, with his hands on my ass, had aroused me, and at the moment I didn’t know what to make of that.
We ate together like nothing happened, and he helped me clean up. We talked about normal stuff – his job hunting and a date he was going on this weekend. I talked about my new job and how I landed a nice contract on my first day out. It was our usual mom and son conversation, except that I was wearing what I was wearing and not paying much attention to how the robe had opened again.
We decided to watch a show or two before hitting the sack. We sat side by side on the sofa watching reruns of Seinfeld, laughing at the antics of George and Jerry. At one point we were laughing so hard, Mark placed his hand on my thigh one of my breasts slipped out of my bra.
We looked at each other, both of us not sure what was happening or what to do about it.
I fumbled to get my breast re-covered and he took his hand away and that was that. I was flustered and I am sure he knew it. “I am tired, Mark. I should go to bed.’
“Me, too,” he nodded. “I think I will shower first.”
“Okay,” I chimed. “I prefer to…”
“Shower in the morning, I know, mom.”
That night was a tough one. I eventually fell asleep, but I figure it took a good hour because all I think about was touching myself, but I didn’t. I just laid there, aware that my pussy was wet and pulsing and wondering if Mark was having the same feelings. God, I thought, what have I done?
Thankfully, Mark slept in and I was out the door before having to face him. Feeling like I had lost control over my senses, I dressed conservatively for work, a black skirt, button down white blouse and black jacket. I did wear nylons and garters, but I always did that, had for years. I had several calls to make today and sat my desk planning out my strategy with each customer. But I must admit I was having a hard time concentrating on work. My thoughts kept returning to my evening with Mark.
He had clearly seen and enjoyed looking at my bare breast and there was that hugging incident and his hard cock pressed up against my wet pussy. It was the oddest feeling. I was simultaneously ashamed and aroused, with the latter seeming to be more prominent, as I could feel dampness in my panties.
I looked up and saw my boss, George, standing in the doorway.
“How long have you been there?”
“A few moments. You looked like you were deep in thought.”
“Yes, I was. Sorry, what can I do for you?”
“I know you have calls to make but we screwed up big time on a shipment to one of our biggest clients and I need you to get over there and smooth things over. I told their CEO you would be there within an hour.”
George filled me in on what happened. We had forgotten items, shipped incorrect items and even our counts were wrong on some of the supplies. “He’s really pissed.”
“I’ll get over there pronto.” I stood to gather my stuff, but George didn’t budge. “Is there something else?”
George nodded. “I…I need to warn you their CEO is a young guy who is a bit of letch.”
“I see,” I said, thanks for the warning.”
George still stood there, blocking my way through the doorway.
“What is it, George?”
“Please don’t think poorly of me but if you are so inclined, you could leverage his love of women when you talk to him.”
“How do you suggest I do that?”
George blushed. “Well, he would likely be mollified if your blouse was a bit over unbuttoned.”
I chuckled and undid two buttons. “Like this.”
“Three would be better.”
I unbuttoned the third button, which unveiled a good amount of cleavage and the front clasp of my bra. “Better?”
“Y…yes,” George stammered. “And…” He paused, cleared his throat and added, “He is a leg man and don’t be surprised if he slaps you on the ass.”
Now I was curious. George didn’t really know I looked for ways to please men. “I understand.”
“Good,” George whispered.
“One more thing. Will he want more than a visual from me?”
“I can’t say he wouldn’t like that, but you don’t…”
“Okay thanks, George. I should get going now.”
Before I took the elevator to the parkade, I went to the bathroom. My blouse was perfect now, I figured, but I remembered George mentioning the CEO was a leg man and I wanted to be prepared for that. I adjusted myself, put on some lip stick and fussed with my hair and walked out of the bathroom with my panties in my purse.
The CEO was good looking man, slender and tall, with chiseled features. I shook his hand and smiled. “I am Sandra Mattson.”
“Pleased to meet you. I am Bob Martin.” He held my hand a bit longer that most do. He pointed to a chair by the side of his desk. “Please, sit.”
It was a fine leather, armless side chair. I sat down and crossed my legs and made no attempt to tug it down from the tops of my nylons. “I understand we really screwed up and want to say how…”
He interrupted me. “Yeh but I have cooled down. You guys are a long-time reliable supplier, but no one is perfect, and I was just shocked how badly all of this was done.”
We spent a few minutes talking about the shipment and I took notes about what we needed to do to rectify things as soon as possible. I also told him we would knock something off the invoice.
“Thank you.” He was smiling now, and I noticed his eyes were angled downward. “You’re new with the company.”
I nodded. “Yes, on staff for a week now.”
“The guy you replaced was competent enough, but I like your style.”
I crossed my legs the other way around and let my dress climb higher. “Thank you. I aim to please my customers.”
I knew he couldn’t see my pussy, but the prospect was clearly on his mind. “I am looking forward to seeing more of you,” he whispered. His eyes met mine and I knew what he wanted. I wanted to give it to him, but I didn’t want him to know that. So, I dropped my pen to one side by “accident” and when I leaned over to pick it up, my legs splayed apart and in the time it took me to retrieve the pen and sit back up, Bob got a clear view of my pussy, slightly parted no doubt, and for all I knew, glistening.
He made no bones about staring between my legs and I think he was going to say something suggestive when his secretary appeared in the doorway. “Mr. Martin, the management team is waiting for you in the board room.”
I stood up and extended my hand, “Good to meet you Mr. Martin.”
“Call me Bob.” He placed my hand between both of his and said, “Tell George I am okay now and that I want you to be my account representative. No one else.”
“Of course, Mr. Martin, I mean Bob. I will be happy to service you and your company.”
“I look forward to that,” Bob said.
When I got back to the office, I reported to George and he was ecstatic. “Thanks so much and sure you can be his account rep. I hope he wasn’t too lewd to you, Sandra.”
“No worries,” I smiled. “I have got him where I want him.”
I landed two more contracts that day, both from men who I discovered also enjoyed my unbuttoned blouse, though I did not put on the show I did for Bob.
When I got home, I changed into yoga pants and a tee-shirt. When I went downstairs, I found Mark in the kitchen, stirring a pasta sauce. He was wearing gym shorts and a gray tee-shirt that was lined with sweat.
“Were you working out?”
“Yeh I was putting on a few and thought a run would do me good.”
“Nice. And you are cooking to boot.”
Mark beamed. “I know you like my sauce,” he said.
“I do,” I said.
It was then that we both clued in to the double-entendre of the word “sauce.”
I just shook my head. “Bad, bad,” I mumbled.
Over dinner I thought we might talk about what had happened last night. “I am sorry about yesterday, Mark.”
Mark finished chewing his pasta, set down his fork and looked me in the eye. “I am not sorry, mother, and neither should you be.”
“Oh,” I murmured.
“I know I shouldn’t, but I liked hugging you that way and seeing your breast was a nice way to end the evening.”
I hadn’t expected that, much less what came out of my mouth next. “I rather…enjoyed it, too,” I said, noticing how husky my voice sounded.
Then we endured at least a minute of silence, each of us processing the obvious sexual tension between us and our shared appreciation for what had happened.
I broke the silence. “Mark, it’s good we have no regrets but let’s not create more regrets, okay?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, let’s agree that yesterday was an anomaly which we enjoyed but should not repeat.”
Mark furled his brow. “Oh.”
“There is a line we should not cross, Mark. We both know that.”
Mark looked at me. He had something to say but it wasn’t coming up.”
“What is it, son?”
Mark took a deep breath. “Mom?”
“Yes?”
“Will you…” He paused.
“Will I?”
“Mom, will you take off your tee-shirt?”
I am sure my mouth dropped open. “Are you… I mean, right now, right here. Jesus.”
“Mom, I know we shouldn’t cross the line, but why can’t I look at you?”
“You are looking at me right now.”
“You know what I mean, Mom. I want to see your body. What harm is there in that?”
I was trembling. The woman in me wanted to tear off my tee-shirt but the mother side of me was jabbering on about the slippery slope. “You mean look and that’s all. No touching, right?”
“Right.”
“No hugging like you did?”
Mark nodded. “I will only look unless…”
“If I do this, Mark, there is no ‘unless.'”
“I just meant I will play by your rules, mom.”
“Promise?”
“Yes, promise.”
More awkward silence. I only had two choices. Take off my top or get up and leave the room. It wasn’t until I caught the look in my son’s eyes, so hopeful, so wanting this, that I slowly lifted the tee-shirt over my head and dropped it to the floor. My breasts were on display now – for my son – and I couldn’t believe I was doing this.
Mark stood up and put on the kettle. What he didn’t realize until it was too late was that his hard cock had extended below the bottom of his gym shorts. I gasped and then he sat down. “God, mom, I am so sorry.”
“No, you aren’t, Mark,” I scolded, half teasing.
“No honest, I am sure you don’t want to see me the way I want to see you.”
He was wrong. His cock was big and beautiful, but I couldn’t tell him I wanted him to show me, wanted him to be on display too.
Maybe he sensed my desire, I am not sure, but now that I was topless and he saw how hard my nipples were, he knew I was good with showing me. “Mom, what if…”
Oh god, I thought. He wants more. “What if what?”
“What if you were naked in the house, you know, when we were here alone?”
“You want me to take off my yoga pants?” I huffed, but my pretense of being shocked was clearly received by him.
“I want to see all of you mom. How could I not. You are so beautiful.”
I stood up. “Mark, flattery is nice, but…”
“Mom, please.” His eyes glanced between my legs. “It appears you are interested.”
I couldn’t see what he was referring to. “What do you mean?”
“Mom, there is a wet spot between your legs.”
I yelped. “Fuck, Mark.”
“Sorry, but it’s true, mom. You are clearly aroused.”
No kidding, I thought. I was standing there topless in front of my flesh and blood, wanting him to enjoy my breasts and there was no doubt in my mind that I wanted him to see my pussy, but, how could I? I couldn’t lie. “Yes, I guess I am aroused but trust me it’s an involuntary reaction.”
“I know the feeling,” he grinned, looking down at his own arousal.
“Look,” I said. “This is huge, and I need to process it. How about you go find us a movie and give me 15 minutes to think things over.”
My son is no dummy. I figured he knew I would come through with him, but I needed some time to work up the courage. There was no doubt in my mind that 15 minutes from now I would walk into the living room to show him my pussy and my ass, but I wanted to give myself a few minutes to see if I would talk myself out of it. But I didn’t. In fact, when I got to the bedroom, I decided just walking in the living room naked was not how I wanted to cross this line. I put on some nylons and a garter belt and the tiniest of thongs and high heels. If I were going to do this, I was going to have a build up to it, not just walk in totally exposed from the get-go.
Mark seemed to enjoy what I was wearing. I was still topless, but I looked sexy and he knew I had dressed this way in order to tease him a bit before I showed him what he desired.
I sat on the Queen Anne’s chair across from the sofa where Mark was sitting and when I sat down I did so with my legs parted about half way.
“Did you find us a movie?”
“I did.”
“What is it?” I parted my legs further, enjoying his reaction.
He nodded toward the television. Frozen on screen was a video with the title, “My Sexy Mom.”
I opened my legs as wide as possible. “Really? You want to watch porn with your mother?”
“I do.” His eyes were glued to the very small patch of fabric that hid my pussy from view. It was so tiny, I figured my labia were sticking out the sides. “Mom, please.”
As I reached down to remove my thong, he got down on his knees and crawled toward me. “What are you doing?”
“I just want a closer look, mom.”
By the time my panties were on the floor, he was literally inches away from my pussy.
Mark inhaled and smiled.
I flushed. “Mark!”
“I am not touching you.”
He could smell my wet pussy and truth be told it turned me on to know my son was gazing at my soaked pussy. I must admit that after a few minutes having your son staring at your pussy becomes awkward. What does one say? What should happen next when no touching was the rule?
Mark broke the standoff. “Can I… will you show me more?”
“More?”
“Inside?”
He wanted me to spread my pussy apart. “Mark, don’t you think that is crossing the line?”
“I promise not to touch you, mom. I just want to see inside.”
By now, I thought what harm was there. I reached down with both hands and splayed my labia apart so he could see my pink hole, which frankly was dripping now.
“Fuck, mom.”
“Mark!”
“I meant, Wow, mom.”
He was so close I could feel his breath. I felt it necessary to draw my line in the sand. “I know what you want, and the answer is no. Is that clear?”
“Yes, mom.” He pulled away and then said, “Can I see your ass now?”
“You are sure persistent.”
“Please mom.”
I stood up and turned and knelt on the chair.
Mark moaned. “Can I see more?”
God, he wanted me to spread my ass cheeks. I didn’t say anything. I just reached behind, grabbed my ass cheeks and pulled them apart. Apparently, I was not providing a sufficient view.
“More, please.”
I repositioned my hands and this time widen the view to my ass crack and by tight tan coloured hole.
“Wow, mom. You are so fine.”
I could sense his face as close as he could get without touching me. This time when he inhaled, he took in the scent of my pussy and my ass all at once.
I got out of this position and as I stood up, he returned to the sofa and patted the seat beside him. “Let’s watch the movie, mom.”
“You’re pushing things, Mark.”
He grinned. “Well I am going to watch. Up to you if you do or don’t.”
I walked into the kitchen aware that he was watching me leave the room. I drank a glass of cold water and then filled another glass with ice cubes and more water. I stood there for a while unsure of myself. I had just displayed my entire body to my son and now he was watching porn about a mother. I could hear the video. A woman was moaning, and a man’s voice was saying, “Oh yea mom, suck my cock.”
I walked into the living room. Mark was stroking his cock. He looked surprised to see me. “I didn’t think you would come back.”
I was staring at his enormous cock. “Um, well, here I am.”
He was still stroking himself. “Do you want me to stop?”
Actions say more than words. I just joined him on the sofa and turned my attention to the television. The woman, who was of similar age and build as I am, was stroking the man’s cock while sucking on his balls. I looked over at my son who was fondling himself. “Mark, you do realize I am not going to do that to you, right?”
“Whatever you say, mom.”
“Mark, I mean it. I am not going to suck your penis.”
“You make the rules, mom.”
“Yes, you keep saying that, but is this what you actually want? Me. Sucking. You?”
“Of course, I do, mom. I can’t believe it, but I do. I want you to suck me off.”
“I can’t Mark.”
“Will you watch me?”
“I already am.”
“No, will you watch me cum.”
“Oh.” That’s all I said, but I didn’t move, other than to adjust my position so he could see my pussy.
That was my answer he understood it.
What happened next shocked me. He got on his knees and got between my legs and masturbated his penis so close to my pussy that it nudged me a couple of times as his stroking increased. Before I realized what was happening, I began playing with my breasts, my eyes transfixed on his cock. My son was going to cum for me. He was inches away from my pussy and I knew he was imagining it inside of me. In that moment I also realized that when he came his cum would explode all over my pussy.
“Mark,” I whispered.
“Mom,” he groaned.
“This is further than I…”
But it was too late. His cock exploded. Cum sprayed everywhere, even on my breasts, but most of it landed between my labia and on my mound. He shook off the last few drops on my leg and sat back on his haunches. Then as if on cue we both looked at the screen to find the mother getting on all fours, asking her son to fuck her in the ass.
“Fuck,” I said. “What…what is happening?”
Mark chuckled. “I think he is going to take her ass, mom.”
“That’s not what I meant, Mark.”
“Yeh, I know, mom. I know.”
That’s when I left the room and went upstairs. I soaked a wash cloth in warm water and cleaned myself off and threw it in the hamper. I looked in the mirror and noticed I miss a glob of cum just above my left nipple. It was shining at me and I liked it there. I looked around, as if to check if anyone was watching, and then raised my breast to my mouth and slurped up the cum.
When I looked in the mirror and saw my expression, I knew I was in trouble. I was going to have to rethink everything now. I knew what Mark wanted, but could I give it to him?
I could still taste his cum when I got under the covers. It tasted a lot like Jon’s, and I loved his cum in my mouth. I was conflicted to say the least. My mind was reinforcing my urge to stop this in its tracks, but my hand was between my legs, caressing my clit.
I could hear Mark on the stairs. When he walked by my bedroom, he stopped at the door and said, “See you in the morning, mom.”
I pushed my face into the pillow as I orgasmed. Then I laid awake into the wee hours feeling ashamed that I had orgasmed thinking of my mouth wrapped around my son’s cock. Thankfully tomorrow was Saturday and I could sleep in, which I did.
In the morning I felt like I was in another dimension. I showered and as was my habit I ran the razor over my pubic region. I had to talk to Mark and put a stop to this, but when I got into the bedroom, I froze. He wanted me to be naked in the house and to tell him it was over meant I had to get dressed. I rubbed lotion over my body while my head spun with all kinds of thoughts.
Apparently, Mark heard me upstairs. He knocked on my door.
“Yes?”
I assumed he would just speak but instead he opened the door and there I was rubbing my breasts with lotion. “Oh, good,” he smiled. “You are up, and you are naked. Thank you, mom.”
“You’re welcome.” I said that automatically, without thinking.
“Come on downstairs and I will make you pancakes, mom.” He held out his hand and I took it and followed him down the stairs. He was fully dressed but I was naked, my wet hair falling in strands on my shoulders, my breasts jiggling as I descend the stairs. And my pussy – wet again.
It felt bizarre to eat pancakes naked across from my son.
We made some small talk but both of us knew last night was on our minds.
“Mom, I was thinking…”
“So was I…”
He continued. “Thinking about the rules.” He paused as if he expected me to say something.
I didn’t. I thought he was going to make a case to fuck me or something like that, but instead he said, “I hope cumming on you didn’t break the rules about touching.”
I shook my head. “Um, no. I mean technically you didn’t touch me, but still…”
“Oh good, because I am wondering if I can do that again.”
I was speechless and just watched him as he stood up and came over to the side of my chair. I gazed at him as he undid his pants and without so much as a word, he began jacking off, right there in front of my face. I turned to watch, thinking I should get up and run away. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. Instead I opened my mouth which a moment later he filled with cum, without letting his cock touch my lips. Some of it dripped down my chin and onto my tits.
He sat back down, beaming. And I just sat there with his cum still in my mouth and on my face. What was I supposed to do? Spit it out? I couldn’t look at him when I swallowed. Good thing because if he could have seen my face, he would have seen me smile.
Fortunately, he had to run off to meet a friend who was visiting from out of town. After he left, I washed my face and sat down in the living room, as excited as I was dismayed about how weak I was. I still couldn’t imagine sucking my son or fucking him. I did think about it, but I just couldn’t bring myself to that place and admit I wanted incest with my son. But I knew I wanted him to cum on me again -on my face, in my mouth, on my tits, my pussy and it crossed my mind how hot it would be to feel his warm cum on my anus.
I know it was stupid, but I believed what we were doing, as kinky as it was, was not incestuous. Somehow if I remained steadfast about never sucking my son’s cock or taking him in my ass, I would able to accept and eventually normalize being naked around him and letting him masturbate his cum all over my body. It’s funny how the mind can conjure up a truth we can live with, isn’t it?
Mark would be a few hours. I could get dressed, but I didn’t. I wasn’t going anywhere or having anyone over. Besides, I could be naked whenever I wanted, with him or not.
I discovered over time that being naked prompted an ever-increasing number of masturbation sessions, some of which were elaborate and extended over the course of the day. One Sunday, I challenged myself to rub my clit to the edge every hour on the hour from dawn until I went to bed. I was sore by the end of the day, but it was so hot to be so aroused. A bonus was that for at least half the time Mark watched me. I told him what I was doing, and he would show up at five minutes before the hour, sit down like a patron at an adult theatre, and wait for the show to begin.
I became more daring as the day went on. By the time evening came along, I was craving sex, craving a cock in every hole, but my rule remained intact. But there was nothing in the rules about not bending over in front of my son, bending over and reaching underneath to rub my pussy with a big butt plug in my ass. He masturbated onto my pussy while I teased it with a vibe. Another time he released a stream of cum into my hair while I spanked my pussy with my hair brush. I got wild and it scared me, but not enough to stop me from being a wanton woman around her son.
This went on for months. We ended up having rituals. In the morning I would sit at the kitchen table while he masturbated on my face. In the evening I would ride a suction cup dildo fixed to the hallway wall and squirt all over the carpet, then bend over in front of him so he could cover my ass with his warm release. We had a few little episodes where the rules were broken though only for second. One time he leaned in to kiss my cheek good bye and I turned and for a few delectable moments our tongues entwined. Another time, his cock slid between my labia. Mark was whacking off furiously and didn’t notice that he kept thrusting his cock into my slit. When he did, he pulled away. I was a tad disappointed to be honest but also appreciative of my son’s promise to abide by the rules.
. . .
It’s been three months since I started my job and yesterday George gave me my three-month review. Short story is that I got high marks and a raise. I had brought in 15 new accounts, a few of them worth 7 figures per year and I had increased business with established clients, in particular Bob Martin’s company. He was happiest when I dropped by every couple of weeks. I dressed for him and he had to know it. I get the occasional slap on my ass, sometimes even a squeeze and each time I titter and smile, and say, “Oh Mister Martin. You are incorrigible.”
Until recently I would find a way to “accidentally” show him my smooth pussy. He knew what I was doing, and I knew it made him hard under his big desk. I also knew that his increased orders were directly tied to my exhibitionism. A couple weeks ago, after dropping my pen on the way out of his office and giving an exposed view of my ass when I bent over, he asked me to sit back down.
“What is it, Bob?”
“Sandra, I do enjoy your visits and your company is great to work with and the prices are very competitive, but I do have a request.”
“Sure, what can I do for you?”
I could hear the sound of his hand stroking his unshaven chin. “Well, I do appreciate the glimpses you give me of what you clearly know I want to see.”
“Thank you, Bob. It’s rather fun I think.”
“Yes, very, which is why I am requesting that you consider providing me with more than a glimpse.”
I figured he was going to ask me to fuck him or something, but instead he went on, saying, “I would like to do our business together while you sat there with your dress hiked up and your legs spread wide.”
I admired the courage behind his inappropriate request. “I see,” I said softly.
He knew I made commission on his orders. “I am opening three new stores in the next few months, so I will be ordering quite a bit more,” he said matter-of-factly. If that helps you consider my request.
“So, let me understand, Bob. You would like me to sit fully exposed when I meet with you for the entire meeting. Do I have that right?”
Hearing me say it out loud flustered him a bit. “It sounds rather untoward, I guess.”
I reached down and hiked my skirt up to my waist and opened my legs. “Do you mean like this?”
“God,” he moaned. “Yes.”
“And this is all you want to see?” I smiled at him. “Not my tits or my ass?”
“Oh, Sandra, I want to see it all.”
“Well, Bob. That can be arranged. Your door locks but you have to hang some binds on the window so nobody in the office can see me naked.”
“Naked?”
“Yes, Bob, if you are going to commit your business to us, I am happy to commit to showing you everything you want to see.”
He was literally bug-eyed, but speechless.
I pulled down my dress, said goodbye and stood up to leave.
“Sandra, I have one more request.”
Again, what I anticipated he would say was not what happened.
“My partner wants to be present at meetings with our larger suppliers. I have told him about you and the teasing. He wants to experience whatever it is you are willing to let me experience.”
“Have you told anyone else?”
“Oh no, never, but he’s my partner.”
“Well, I look forward to meeting with him, too, then.”
“Really? I mean you will sit naked for both of us.”
“Yes, Bob.”
I had met his partner a couple of months earlier in the reception area. He was a forty-something black man, tall, handsome, and charming. He made Bob look like a garden gnome. “Remember those blinds, Bob, or nothing like that will happen.”
“Understood Thank you.” We both stood up and shook hands. His secretary was looking at us and we both wanted her to see two professionals shaking hands.
I had no doubt there would be blinds on the window before I showed up two weeks from now, but I wondered if Bob’s cock was as hard as my pussy was wet.
I had a number of male clients who I teased now and again, but nothing like how I teased Bob. I knew he fantasized about me sucking him off, and I figured one day that would be a reality, but not yet. In fact, it was far more likely I would be drinking from his partner’s BBC before I knelt before Bob.
In the meeting with George, where I received a raise, he shared how he almost didn’t offer me the job. I asked why and he mumbled something about how I dressed for the interview.
I nodded. I had shown a lot of cleavage in that interview and I made sure he could see my legs crossing back and forth. “I just wanted to make a good impression and make sure you experienced the kind of service and attire I would provide your customers.”
“Well, your results speak for themselves.” He pointed to the spreadsheet between us. No harm I guess in leveraging your attractiveness.”
Life with Mark continued to be intense and deliciously sordid. He loved looking at me, watching me touch myself and it was a rare day indeed when I wasn’t being sprayed with his cum twice a day. He was dating a girl on and off who he rarely mentioned, but when he did it was his frustration with her that dominated the conversation. She sounded rather prudish to me; apparently, she had no interest in receiving or providing oral sex. I would listen and empathize, but I never said anything disparaging about her, but not out of kindness. I felt pangs of jealousy that he was fucking someone else, when I knew all he wanted was me.
Maybe it was the jealousy that led to the conversation we had last night. I had just finished masturbating for him and I knew that meant he would be jacking off on my tits or face. I decided it was now or never. The room smelled like my pussy, as I said, “So, Mark, I have been thinking about our rules.”
“Oh?” He leaned over in his chair.
“Yes, thinking we should review them and see if we should modify them or maintain the status quo.”
“Sounds good.”
“One rule is no touching, which leads to other rules like no sucking or fucking your mother.”
“Mom, I am well aware of your damn rules.” He laughed.
“Would you like to test out doing away with the touching rule?”
Mark nodded and grinned. “You know the answer.”
“No sex or oral though. Just hands.”
“What if my hands are holding toys?”
“That is acceptable.”
Then it hit him. “Does this mean you will touch my cock?”
“It does.”
He stood up and walked toward me. “Can we begin this cancellation of the touching rule now?”
I sat up and reached for his cock and began stroking it. He came in 30 seconds and watched me squeeze his cum into my open mouth.
“That was yummy, Mark.”
“I am in heaven, mom.”
I laughed. “I am not sure they allow devils in heaven, son. Your mother just beat you off.”
Our morning routine had been being his cum rag each morning in the kitchen, but the very next day we began a new routine. I would oil up his cock with massage oil and slowly and seductively edge him to orgasm. We actually had to get up earlier so that I could invest the time required to fully satisfy my son’s libido. A few days later he broke up with his girlfriend.
Time passed quickly and before I knew it, I was getting up to prepare for my meeting with Bob and his partner, Amos Jones. Since I would be getting naked, I decided to dress conservatively on the exterior, but underneath my business suit I wore a shelf bra. My tits looked good hanging over the shelf. I put on black nylons and heels but left my pussy bare.
As I approached Bob’s office, I noticed the blinds were up and closed. When I stepped inside, the entire office had been re-furnished. Against the wall opposite of Bob’s desk was a new sofa with a chaise lounge and two arm chairs facing it, separated from the sofa by a narrow coffee table. In the far corner was a bamboo room divider. Nice touch, I thought. I can undress in private. Bob was at his desk and Amos was sitting on the sofa. They both rose when I entered the room and greeted me, mustering up what professionalism they could, while their cocks pulsed the moment I walk through the door. Bob locked the office door. Amos held my hand. “I am happy about this, Sandra.” He pointed to the bamboo divider. “Please,” he said, looking toward the corner. There are hangers for your clothes, a full-length mirror and velvet parlour chair.”
I was nervous. I was about to do with them what until now I had only done with my son in the privacy of my home. I was expanding my growing fondness for showing my body off to a work place. This wasn’t something casual or light. Millions of dollars were at stake and these two businessmen wanted to do business with me, but they wanted me naked. I wondered if I was going too far the first time out in the business world by agreeing to be exposed to two men, two powerful men who had me in a locked room and who in five minutes will be staring at my pussy and my magnificent tits. They will want to fuck me, see my on my knees sucking one cock and then the other.
They knew I wouldn’t scream if they decided to take me, but we all knew they wouldn’t. If they did, these would be the last time they got to be with me. They wanted this to last, go on month after month. I was no fool. The longer they abided by my rules, the better the chance of them being withdrawn.
The mirror was a nice perk. My breasts were hanging in display over the shelf bra, and the nylons and garter belt framed the view of my pussy and when I turned, I saw how well two straps and the band of the nylons presented by firm, substantive ass. I slipped back into my hi-heels, took a deep breath, and walked out of the corner and stood at the end of the coffee table. Amos got up and welcomed me to the sofa and then sat across from me to my left. Bob was seated to my left.
I sat on the edge of the sofa, spread my legs wide, smiled first at Bob and then at Amos and I said, “Gentlemen, thank you for the opportunity to demonstrate the many benefits of serving your fine company.”
The men looked at each other. These two experienced, savvy businessmen did not have a plan. That had not even considered what they might say to ensure I would feel safe and appreciated. Their entire focus had been on seeing my wet pussy.
They broke the ice at the same time. “Wow, and double wow.” Bob said that while Amos said, “You look amazing, Sandra.”
“Thank you, boys.” I ran my hand along the surface of the chaise. “I see there was a strategy to the remodelling.”
Amos laughed. “Bob said you would notice and comment.”
“Amos, I am sitting her naked. My nipples are erect, my pussy is glistening, and my ass is feeling left out. I am not surprised or uneasy about the chaise lounge to my left. It will be more comfortable for me putting on a show for you there than here on this sofa.”
“Show?” Bob raised his eyebrows.
I stood up and turned around. “What do you think of my big ass?”
“You have a crazy ass, babe,” Amos said, his voice a sultry baritone.
“I want to live there,” Bob said. His voice, though, was scratchy.
“I angled my head around. “Well, Bob, my ass is not for rent.” I crawled across the sofa to the chaise section, my ass cheeks shifting back and forth as I made my way. Then I swing around, raised my legs and planted my high heels far apart, ran my hands over my breasts until they rested on either side of my open pussy, and whispered, “So, what’s the first order of business, gentlemen?”
For the next hour the only business discussed had to do with how to move and position my body so they could see every inch of it. Bob had me raise my arms because he wanted to see the gradual concave slope of my underarms. Amos had a thing for me spreading my pussy lips and tugging on them. Bob moaned when I reached underneath and lightly scratched my anus with my long red fingernails. I didn’t speak. I just followed their instructions. It was extremely taboo and erotic at the same time. The only challenging times for me was when they spoke about my body to each other as I were not there or, worse, a piece of meat.
“Didn’t I tell you her pussy is incredible?”
“Hard to believe those tits aren’t plastic.”
“God, her hole is dripping.”
“Just look at that tight pucker hole.”
I wasn’t shocked or anything, but I had not anticipated porn talk and it took me a while to adjust.
Eventually, Amos cleared his throat. “We have another meeting to get to, Sandra.”
“Of course.” I got up and made my way to the change area. When I reappeared, Amos was gone. Bob told me they were late so Amos had to get going and sent his deep regrets for not being here to help me present you with this. He handed me a sealed manila envelope. “Open it later,” Bob said. “Trust me, you will like what you see.”
He was right. I opened the envelope in my car to find four purchase orders, one for each new store, and a significant re-order for their current 12 outlets. George would flip. I almost didn’t notice the card that had slipped down to the bottom of the envelope. Inside was a business card for a woman named Evangeline. Just a first name and a phone number were on the card. Other than that, there was no explanation. I had no clue who she was or why they wanted me to call her, but I knew I would.
I got home that night before Mark and by the time he got home I was on my second bottle of wine and had smoked some oil. Stoned and drunk and naked and in the mood for something to make me shake off the feelings of objectification that had crawled into my head.
As Mark walked into the living room, I sat back on the sofa and opened my legs. He sat down next to me and without a word, slipped two, then three, then four fingers in my sopping cunt and began pounding me. He pounded me so hard that my tits bounced. I squirted three times in 10 minutes and literally passed out. I woke up in the middle of the night to pee. Mark had covered me with a blanket and tucked a pillow under my head. I peed in the dark but turned on the light to wash my hands and brush my teeth.
That’s when I noticed all the cum on my face, a good night kiss from my son.
“Damn,” I hissed. Something had to change and change quick. MY rules were not working. In fact, they were contributing to a change in me that felt disingenuous. I looked at my face again. There was so much cum that I wondered if he had jacked off twice. Splattered me once and then sat back to re-charge before he did it again. I muttered, “Bastard.” Don’t get me wrong, this was very hot for me, but I realized Mark did that because of my rules. Like I said, things needed to change.
I left the bathroom and scurried down the hall and just opened the door to Mark’s room. I thought he would be asleep, but he was sitting up in bed playing a game on his phone. He was surprised to see me, much less barge in like that. Without a word, I walked to the side of the bed, removed his sheet, took his phone and set it on the night table and crawled on top of him. I reached underneath and grabbed his rock-hard cock and shoved it in my pussy.
“Mom, wha…are you sure?”
I shoved my pussy down his shaft, kissed him full on the lips and said, “Mommy is tired of the fucking rules.”
And then I fucked the shit out of my son. He fucked my pussy and my ass and my mouth. We kissed like teenagers. After he came the first time, I rolled him over and massaged his ass cheeks with oil, though only after I licked him clean.
I have to tell you. There is not any feeling that compares with tasting your son’s cum blended with your own. I knew everything would change now. Tomorrow would be awkward but it would pass. Today I realized that I would fuck and suck Amos and Bob, and no doubt other clients, and I finally accepted my fate: I would be my son’s lover from this point on, for as long as he wanted, and in any way he wished.
Added by Wifesboy
