Incest, mom and son, Mom gives the ultimate gift, I walked into the kitchen with a laundry basket full of dirty clothes and there he was, The Prince, as I like to call him. It was after one o’clock in the afternoon and he was sitting at the kitchen island eating breakfast.
Under his mop of dirty blonde hair, were the most intense blue eyes, eyes that could make you lose your train of thought and make you stare off into space simply by him giving you that look. Those blue eyes, together with boyish good looks and an intensely athletic physique, combined in this young man to the point that he just exuded animal magnetism.
I could sense it, and I was his mother, never mind the poor young girls and their foolish middle aged mothers who vied for his attention.
Sometimes I felt like he wasn’t my son at all, as if I had been in a fairy tale, a tale wherein I, as a young and beautiful peasant girl, was taken one magical night to the bed of the most powerful and handsome king in all of the universe, and as a reward for yielding my nubile, virginal body I was given this young prince to raise as my own.
I know that sounds crazy, I know he’s my son. I distinctly remember the morning I delivered him, and the twelve hours of labor I went through to bring him into this world, but that’s how amazed I was that he was my son. He meant everything to me.
“Good morning, your highness,” I said sarcastically, but he didn’t hear me. He was on another planet listening to who knows what on his phone.
“What?” He asked pulling the ear buds from their semi-permanent location, and giving me a dumfounded look.
“I said good morning.”
“Mornin’,” he said and gave me a smile just before he shoveled another spoonful of cereal into his mouth, Captain Crunch of all things. He would be turning twenty-one in less than two weeks, and in the fall he would be going back to college for his senior year, and yet he was still eating sugary cereals for breakfast.
In some ways he was still a boy, though he was legally a man, able to vote and go to war, but to me he was still my little baby boy, and I know I’m prejudiced, but God what a babe he had become. He was nothing like my ex-husband.
Warren, my ex, was always so smart, so intuitive, and yet he never saw, never realized, that the genetics just weren’t there. He was in complete and utter denial.
How could a short, squat, brown eyed, accountant, who was completely bald by the time he was thirty, sire a blue eyed Adonis who had been the captain of his high school football team. Warren, in high school, on the other hand, had been the president of the math team.
My ex-husband was so proud of his son that he was blind to the facts that were right there before him. It was kind of pathetic, but I never had the heart to tell him the truth.
“What’s going on?” I asked trying to get a sense of what my boy was up to.
“What do you mean?”
“What have you got planned for the day?”
“Mom, I just got up.”
“Okay, but you need to get that hair cut. You’re starting to look like a bum.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
I went down into the basement and threw into the washing machine the clothes that he had left on the bathroom floor, and as I did I noticed that one of his shirts had a hole in it. Nothing major, but he did need some new clothes.
His twenty-first birthday was coming up in less than two weeks, and I reminded myself that we needed to go shopping or he wouldn’t have any presents for the big day.
He was putting his dishes in the dishwasher when I got back to the kitchen. It was at times like this that I felt like a munchkin next to him. Standing side by side he towered over me.
“So Jack,” I said to start the conversation.
“Yeah,” he grunted.
“What do you want for your birthday?”
“My birthday?”
“Yes. It is coming up, and I haven’t gotten you one thing.”
“Nothing,” he said shrugging his shoulders.
“Don’t say that Jack. I need to get you something. You must need something.”
“You mean like a new XBox?” He asked sarcastically.
“You’re an ass. No, I mean, do you need new clothes.”
“Yeah I guess.”
“Holy shit Jack,” I exclaimed in exasperation.
“What do you want me to say?”
“I want you to think about it, and give me a list; shirts, shoes, shorts, underwear?”
“Yeah Ma, I could use some tighty whities.”
“My God, Jack. What am I going to do with you?”
“Mom,” he said folding his arms and leaning back against the kitchen cabinets. My God, I realized as I looked at him, he was giving me that look. A look that he would give a girl before he turned on the charm. “Actually,” he said flashing me a devious smile, “now that I think about it. I know exactly what I want.”
“And what’s that?” I asked suspecting that I was going to get a wise crack in return.
“I want you to take me out for my birthday.”
“Yeah, yeah. Your father and I have reservations at Trieste. That will be a fun night,” I mused, “going out to dinner with your dad.”
“I don’t mean out to dinner, and certainly not with dad.”
“Then what do you mean?” I leaned against the kitchen cabinets opposite him, and folded my arms as I looked into those baby blues.
“I mean, take me out. Go drinking with me.”
“What do you mean, to a bar?”
“A bar. A club. Whatever.”
“Stop fucking around, Jack,” I said. The anger getting the better of me.
“I’m not fucking around. I’m finally going to be legal. Why can’t we go out and have a drink together.”
“Wouldn’t you rather do that with your dad?”
“No.”
“No?”
“I mean, yeah maybe.”
“And you don’t want to go out with your friends on your birthday?”
“Yeah, yeah, we already have that planned. After that?”
“I don’t understand.”
“Oh forget it. If you don’t want to go, just forget it.”
“NO! NO! I want to go. I just don’t know why you’d want to go with me.”
“Because your my mom, and I thought it’d be fun.”
Well as the saying goes, you could have knocked me over with a feather. I was flabbergasted. How many mothers got a invitation like that.
“Okay. If that’s what you want. I’d love to go.” I felt like a young freshman girl that just got asked out by the quarterback.
“Okay. It’s a date,” he said and just disappeared upstairs to his room.
I know I should have been wondering whether this was a good idea. I mean he would soon be of legal drinking age, but should a mother go out bar hopping with her son? I was just so thunderstruck and flattered that he’d ask me, that I didn’t think of the possibilities, or of the repercussions.
For as long as I could remember, boys had never been my forte, and to me Jack, the ultimate boy, was tantamount to a Greek God.
I had always been a nerd, not physically mind you, but definitely mentally. And over the years my interests were always on school, then later my career and ultimately money, and I have to admit that when I was younger I was clueless about the things that the general public found so essential, like looks and popularity.
My mother, Jack’s grandmother, was eternally frustrated by my disinterest in all things social. My hair was my hair, my clothes were my clothes. And boys? Well they were definitely some alien race put on this Earth to make me dizzy.
“Why don’t you get you hair done like so-and-so,” my mother would wail at me, or, “You would look so pretty in this.” But I didn’t care, and I didn’t care that my mother did. In fact I wore my hair the same way for decades until just recently when Jack, of all people, dragged me to the shop where he got his hair cut.
At first I considered getting a new hairstyle just a waste of time, but after it was done I had to admit that I looked amazing. And my daughter, Jack’s older sister, showed me how to keep it looking that way.
He was full of surprises this boy of mine.
This new me took some getting used to since I now looked like a completely different woman, a more stylish and beautiful woman. I got so many compliments about it.
And apparently with my new hairstyle (and I get this from so many people) especially older people, that I look a little like Lea Thompson. You know the actress who played Michael J. Fox’s mother in “Back to the Future.” She was also on dancing with the stars. I myself don’t see it, I’m not nearly as pretty as her, but google her if you want to see what other people think I look like.
That weekend I dragged Jack out of bed and made him come shopping with me. It was after noon when, after a lot of urging on my part, he finally got up. I’m sorry, but I wanted to get it done, and so he grudgingly got dressed and accompanied me to the mall.
But soon, as he went from store to store, he kind of got into it. I made sure to leave him alone so he could roam free. I knew he hated when I hovered over him showing him clothes that I thought he would look good in.
When we had visited about three stores, and gotten a number of things that I could wrap for him, he stopped to look in the window of a store that catered to young women. You know, high school and college age girls.
“Why are you looking in there for?” I asked wanting to get done.
“You need to get something.”
“What?”
“We need to buy you some clothes if we’re going to go out next week.”
I canted my head and gave him a quizzical look. “What are you talking about. I have plenty of clothes.”
“Really, mom?”
I was amazed and amused. “What’s wrong with the way I dress?”
“It’s okay for older women. But your young and beautiful, and if we’re going out, you need to dress like it.”
With that he just walked into the store gazing at all the manikins like some kind of fashion expert, leaving me alone in the mall, again thunderstruck. Who is this boy, and what has he done with my son?
“Jack, I’m too old for this store,” I said as I caught up to him, but he just picked up a blouse and handed it to me.
“What do you think of this?” He asked holding it up against me.
It was a cute stripped top, mostly cotton with a little spandex in it, but it was just a tad young since it was an off the shoulders number. In other words it was a blouse that a young girl would wear if she were looking to seduce a gorgeous boy like Jack.
“I don’t know Jack. It’s a little young.”
“Just try it on,” he commanded. So I took it to appease him, for I knew once he saw me with it on he would agree with what I was saying.
In the dressing room I striped off my oversized tee shirt and put on this new blouse. I was surprised at how cute it was, and I had to say it looked good on me, though it was tight, showing off my girls a tad too much.
Maybe a size bigger I thought, but then I looked at the off the shoulder thing, and I realized it wouldn’t do, it was more for a date than for a mother-son night out.
“See it’s too young for me,” I said as I exited to the dressing room to find him standing just outside the door.
“It’s perfect. Now let’s go pick out a skirt.”
“A skirt? Jacky this is too tight, too young. I’d look foolish.”
“We’re probably going to some nice places,” he said admonishing me, “filled with young girls, and you’re not going to pull it off dressed like an old woman. Wasn’t I right about your hairstyle? And believe me, you have the looks and figure to wear something like that.”
I stopped in the store, speechless. Now I was convinced that my son had been kidnapped, and this boy was an imposter sent by an alien civilization to infiltrate us.
By the time I reached Jack he had already picked out a skirt, and a little leather miniskirt at that.
“Now I know you’re fucking with me. Come on let’s get out of here.”
“Would you stop, and try this on. You would look so good in this.”
I had the strange feeling that I wasn’t shopping with my son, but my mother. Though in retrospect, I’ve said the same thing so many times to my own two kids.
In a daze I carried the skirt off to the dressing room, kicked off my shorts, and was now in a tight blouse that showed off both my tits and shoulders, and a tight leather miniskirt that showed off plenty of leg. The whole outfit made me look like I was eighteen.
Yet as I stood there looking in that full length mirror, standing on my toes to get an idea how it would look in heels, I saw the young girl that I used to be, or could have been before I got married and had kids, and you know what, she looked good. And I hated to admit it, but sexy too. It had been a long time since I felt sexy. Jack had seduced me.
“What was I thinking letting you talk me into those clothes?” I said as we both got into my car. “I’m returning them tomorrow.”
“No ma, don’t. You look good in them.”
“Still, they’re too young for me.”
“If you return them, forget going out.” He sat in the passenger seat mopping. I couldn’t believe it, but he was hurt to think that I’d return the clothes.
“Well I hope I don’t see anyone I know that night.”
“You might, but they won’t recognize you.”
And I knew in my heart of hearts, he was right.
It was in college that my luck, and my life, completely turned around. It’s not that I was popular, but my roommate was. When Babs and I met the first day at Ohio State, I assumed that she would immediately start looking for a new roommate. My first impression being that we had nothing in common.
She was pretty and popular, and like I said I was a nerd, but she turned out to be entirely different from what I first perceived, and not the shallow and vacuous sorority girl I took her for.
We hit it off immediately, and though I never became popular with the boys, her girlfriends were a different story. Like her, they took me in and made me part of a group. Something I never had as a teenage girl.
They taught me a little about subjects that before college I was never interested in, and that was dancing and clothes. I can’t say that I became a fashion plate, but at least my clothes fit. And I can surprise people when I get on the dance floor.
“Where are you taking me Saturday night? He asked as I drove him to work a few days later. We had agreed to go out the next Saturday night, because his birthday had passed, and he had already gotten drunk and disgusting with his friends.
“I don’t know. Anywhere you want to go.”
“Anywhere?”
“Yeah, sure, anywhere,” I said naively.
“Okay, sounds good.”
“So where are we going?”
“I’ve got a couple of places in mind. You like to dance?”
“You want to go out dancing with me?” I gave him a look of sheer amazement.
“First a few drinks at a place where I know the bartenders, and then maybe, yeah.”
“Okay.” I mean, what else could I say?
“Should be interesting.”
“What?”
“Seeing if you can shake that thing.”
“Oh I can shake it. Don’t worry about that. Your mom was known for shaking it.”
This all sounded too good to be true, as if I was in a dream. First I was going to a bar with my twenty-one year old son, and then we were going dancing. I mean, I was in heaven, but in retrospect, what was I thinking?
“Oh, and you’ve got to rent a limo, mom.”
“What?”
“We can’t drink and drive.”
“Oh, I know, but a limo? Sounds expensive. And besides, I’m not drinking that much.”
“Oh, just get dad to pay for it. You know he will.”
He was right. When it came to his kids, my ex spared no expense. I could rot in hell, but nothing was too good for his kids. Our daughter was in Europe at the time and it was all paid for as a graduation gift from Daddy.
“Oh and mom, I’ll hit him up for some extra money. I’ll tell him I need tires for my car or it won’t pass inspection.”
“Do you need tires on your car?”
“Nah, but he doesn’t know that.”
I guess right about now would be a good time to tell you about Jack’s real father. The man whose genes coursed through this young man’s veins.
First of all Jack’s father was incredibly handsome and tall with the same intense blue eyes. He was so good looking in fact that at the time I couldn’t believe he would be interested in me. He was also, I hate to tell you, my boss.
He was having problems with his marriage and I was having problems with mine. Throw into the mix that we were often alone together in distant cities on overnight business trips, and that formula spells disaster.
Soon we were involved, though the match was so incredulous that none of our spouses, or even our coworkers suspected a thing.
Like I said he was handsome, but he was also gregarious, and a real charmer, just like Jack, and I was this mousey little wallflower, but in bed he brought something out in me.
He would often say that I was like two different women, a fierce negotiator in a business deal, and a wanton slut in bed.
For some reason I took that as a compliment rather than a slur. Especially, I’m sure, because it came from John. Yes, that was his name.
Ultimately I wasn’t ready to leave my husband at the time, and John never offered me any other alternative. So the affair came to an end.
I got pregnant, and John soon jumped ship to a better job at a better company in a city away from his wife and for that matter, me. He never knew that he had a son, or even that I was pregnant at the time. It was bittersweet, but I never told him, and my husband was just happy that I was expecting a boy.
When Jack was still in high school I happened to run into John on what other but a business trip. We sat down together and had some drinks for old times sake. He told me that I looked more beautiful than ever, and I told him he had a son.
To his credit he didn’t run screaming from the bar, but was actually interested in the boy. Maybe one reason for that was that his ex-wife only gave him three girls and no sons. I also wasn’t looking for child support.
Ever since that night John has been in communication with me about Jack. Even helping behind the scenes to get the boy into the college he wanted. My ultimate hope is that after Jack’s graduation John, who is now in upper level management at a prestigious company, can get Jack a good job.
When I think back upon the love making sessions John and I once had, they may have been some of the happiest days of my life. Definitely the most erotic, and sexually fulfilling. He taught me a lot, and I denied him nothing, and I mean nothing.
Saturday night came, and as I waited for the limo, I felt like Cinderella going to the ball. And though I was excited about it, Jack had been absolutely giddy the whole week, forever commenting about how he couldn’t wait.
I now stood in my bedroom on that warm July evening in front of my full length mirror admiring myself as I wore the cute and sexy outfit my son had hand picked for me.
When first I brought it home I realized that if I were to wear it for him, hopefully dancing the night away, it needed some accessories.
First on the list were shoes, and as I browsed on line, I found the cutest pair of strappy stilettos, and though they seemed a little racy for a night out with my son, I had to have them, especially since they would look so hot with that leather miniskirt.
And then, knowing that I would be in a club full of young men, I went to the Victoria’s secret site to buy some sexy underwear, of which I hadn’t been trussed up in since I was married to Jack’s dad. A few clicks later and I’d ordered a little push up bra to help my 34B breasts, and a little lacy white thong to highlight my mid summer tan.
With my thong and heels, and bra that pushed my tits out amazingly, I wasn’t feeling particularly comfortable, but absolutely fuckin’ sexy. Had it been so long, I wondered, that a simple seductive outfit could get me so aroused?
It was then that, embarrassed, I remembered a night a few years back, when Jack had first went off to college, I was so depressed about spending another night alone in that big old house, that I accepted an invitation by some of the younger girls in my office to go out for drinks after work.
It was in some dark downtown bar that I met a cute young guy, and shamefully I let that young man seduce me, letting him take me to a famous midtown luxury hotel.
He was good looking and nearly twenty years my junior, though not nearly as gorgeous as my Jack, but surprisingly mindful of my needs. It was with that young man in a four star hotel that I had my last non-vibrator induced orgasm. If I had to rate them I would give the young man four stars on merit alone, and five stars to that orgasm.
He wanted my number as we parted the next morning, but he was too young, a boy really, and if by some strange coincidence a relationship took hold, he would want things that I wasn’t prepared to give him; like children.
One thing about that night was that I’d previously thought that it was John who brought out the vamp in me, but apparently any good looking guy with the gift of gab could make a slut out of me. It was a good thing that I found this bit of information out late in life.
God, when I think about it, we fucked all night long.
As the honk from a car horn woke me out of my daydream, I got an impression of how pathetic I looked with my – too tall heels – my nature defying bra – and the thong that was way up the crack of my ass. I started to rethink these ridiculous clothes.
But then I heard Jack call up the stair that the limo had arrived, and I realized that it was too late to pick out and then change into a different outfit, so I was resigned to looking like a fool.
“Wow! you look great,” Jack said as I got to the bottom of the stairs. I blushed, but that made all my insecurities vanish immediately. He looked good too, in a pair of designer jeans and a tailored shirt that showed off his long, lean body.
“Thanks.” I cooed.
“The limo’s here.”
“Yes, I know.”
“Come on,” he said as he took my hand, and escorted me out to the waiting car.
“Champagne?” I said startled as we sat in the back of that absurdly long vehicle, and he poured me a glass from the complementary bottle provided by the car service.
“Yeah, came with the ride. Who knew?”
“Well actually I used the service my company uses, and I called from the office, so they probably thought it was corporate.”
“Well, it’s not Crystal, but it’s not bad,” he said as we clicked our flutes together.
The first place he took me wasn’t a bar per se, but more like a club. It was very dark inside, all dark mirrors and matte finish metal, and with all sorts of neon blue lights shinning from the bar.
“Hey Jack,” the bartender yelled to my son as he saw us at the bar.
“Hey Danny. How’s things.” They both shook hands and then Danny gave me the eye. I was a little startled that this young man would even look my way.
“Danny, this is Susan,” Jack said using my first name, which also took me off guard. This was going to be an interesting night, I thought.
“Hi Susan,” he said and reached out to shake my hand.
“Hi Danny. Nice to meet you.”
“Susan? I asked my son after Danny had gotten us our drinks.
“Yeah, let him think I’m out with a hot chick.”
“And what if he asks where I am the next time you’re in here?”
“I’ll just tell him you dumped me.”
I just smiled and shook my head.
“You want me to tell him you’re my mom?” Jack asked facetiously.
“No. That’s okay.” I demurred.
“Good. If I told him the truth, he’d probably spend the whole night hitting on you.”
“You think that I’m a hot chick?”
A look of amusement came over his face and then a smile. “In that outfit you are.”
It was a magical night, and it was a weird night too. After a few drinks Jack opened up, and I found out so much about him. What was weird was that he opened up to me at all. This was a boy who didn’t tell me that he was dating a girl until months after they had broken up.
I also found out how much my son could drink. He certainly could put it away. It didn’t seem to effect him at all. On my part, I felt more than comfortable after only two drinks.
Then it was on to another of his hangouts, and of course the bartenders, plus most of the girls in the place, all knew Jack. I wasn’t so sure whether it was a good idea that he was pretending that we were on a date, since all the girls were giving me dirty looks.
It was at this bar that things took an unusual turn. We both were getting a little drunk, and he was getting a little handsy.
Nothing too weird at first, just holding hands or putting his arm around me, but then after we’d been at that bar awhile, he pulled me into his lap, and I wasn’t just sitting on him, but straddling him.
“Having fun,” he yelled over the music.
I didn’t say anything, I just gave him a warm smile and nodded my head. But I really was having a good time, and it was strangely stimulating to be in his lap. I felt like a young girl in his arms.
I straightened his hair as he looked up at me with these big blue eyes, his hands securely on my hips.
“None of the girls here like me.”
“That’s because you’re sitting in my lap. They’re jealous.”
“Aren’t you playing with fire?”
“Most definitely, but not with them.”
I just canted my head and gave him a puzzled look. Wherein he just laughed and gave me a kiss.
“Are you trying to get them even more jealous?”
“No! I could give a fuck about them.”
“Then why the kiss?”
“Because you look so cute.”
And then I did something that I found inexplicable. I blushed, and not figuratively. I was actually glowing from the attention my son was giving me.
He went to give me another kiss, but I pulled away and stood up. He reached up for me, and I took his hand.
“I think I need another drink,” I said and pulled him to his feet.
“Why not?” He said as he got up.
At the bar, I found a stool as he ordered us another round. We weren’t drunk, but I had to admit I was definitely glad we had a limo to take us home. Not that I was ready to go home just yet.
But even though I was having a tremendous time, a thousand things were running through my head. Why was Jack acting so affectionate, and why was I enjoying it so much.
He was an incredibly good looking boy, with a physique to match, but he was my son, and I couldn’t explain why it made me all aflutter to sit in his lap and kiss him.
And as I sat on the stool, with new drinks in front of us, leaning on the bar he hunched down beside me. “You know you look really pretty tonight.” He had this intense look on his face.
“Thanks. I know I fought you about this outfit, but I’m glad you insisted on me wearing it. I do feel pretty. Maybe even a little…”
“What?”
“Sexy.”
“It doesn’t take much for you to look sexy. Every guy in this place is checking you out.”
“Stop.”
“It’s true.”
“You’re making me blush.”
“Yeah? I thought that was because you were with me?”
“It is. It is.” I gave him another warm smile. And then he gave me another kiss, but this time the kiss couldn’t in the least be mistaken for a friendly kiss. And I felt that kiss all the way down to where I shouldn’t have felt that kiss.
After a moment or two, where we just looked at each other with dumb looks on our faces, I broke the spell. With an awkward but warm smile and a young girl’s giggle I broke the trance, diverted the sexual tension that had no right to exist, but still hung over us like an electric current, and dare I say deliciously.
“I thought you were taking me dancing?” I smiled enticingly at him.
“I am. You wanna go?”
“Let me finish my drink first,” I said exasperated.
Once again in the limo he was acting crazy, though I was enjoying it. We laughed and talked the whole time, and during the entire ride in that huge car there couldn’t have been a millimeter of space between us.
The night club was called Liaison, which was ironic considering what was going on.
“Liaison?”
“It specializes in pop music,” he said holding my hand as we made our way from the limo to the front door, which was guarded by two large bouncers. All the time my feet, because of the stilettos and the tightness of my skirt, were taking short, light, dainty steps as he urged me along. “I thought you’d like the music here.”
He paid to get in, he paid for everything that night. I only had a little clutch with me which was only large enough to carry my license, a fifty dollar bill, which I never spent, and a credit card, which never saw the light of day. He had told me before we left that night that he would take care of everything, and indeed he did.
Now the whole idea of him escorting me and spending huge sums of money on me made me wonder. I had always been my experience that any man paying that much money on a woman wanted something in return, and usually they did, but what did my son want from me?
The club was very dark, and the music was pounding, much like the dance clubs I had gone to in my youth. The scene and the music just took me back.
Before we even got a drink, Jack was pulling me onto the dark dance floor with the lights flashing and from time to time clouds of smoke falling out of the ceiling. God he could dance.
He whisked around the dance floor. When I was a girl, there was one thing that used to make me hot and that was a guy who could dance. I was starting to feel those old feelings again just watching him.
“You were right,” he yelled into my ear as he danced close to me. “You do know how to shake it.”
“You should talk.”
“Our bodies compliment each other.”
“Yes they do,” I said though I cringe now for saying it.
And then we danced some more. I guess I was getting carried away because some guy started to move in on me. I showed him my back, and grabbed Jack’s arm.
“Save me from this guy,” I said in Jack’s ear.
“You sure?” He asked laughing.
“Yes!”
“Okay, come here.” And with that he grabbed me by the hips and pulled me into him, and then to the beat of the music, and with my hands in the air, we bounced together front to back, and as we bounced I could feel him hard against my ass.
I could feel him rubbing against me, and I rubbed back. I told myself that it was because I wanted this creepy guy to leave me alone, but I had to know that rubbing my ass into my son’s crotch was going to cause things to happen, and it did.
He grabbed me by the hand, and escorted me off the floor.
“I need a drink,” he said, and though I wasn’t ready to leave the floor just yet, I too was getting all hot and bothered.
Once again I found a stool, and he got us some drinks, but this time when he brought my drink he squeezed in between my legs, hiking my skirt all the way up my thighs.
“Comfy,” I said as I felt his crotch press up against mine.
I told myself that it was all just a game, a game that he would take so far and then back away. I mean what would be the outcome if he didn’t back away? And yet as I sat there with my miniskirt pushed way up my thighs, and my son of all people nestled in between those thighs, I wasn’t sure if he would back away or if I actually wanted him to.
“Having fun?” He asked.
“Yes. I like dancing with you. You’re a great dancer.”
“I like dancing with you too. You’re very hot out there, you know.” And then he put his hands on my hips, bent down and kissed me. And then he kissed me again.
I backed away, embarrassed and out of breath. “Jack?”
“Relax, you’re too tense,” he said and then pulled me by the hips towards him.
I was leaning back, staring into his eyes, and we were inches apart as I felt him grinding into me.
“Having fun?” He asked and when he did I could feel his hot breath on my face.
“I’m not sure.”
“You want me to stop?”
“I’m not sure.”
And then he kissed me again, but this time he didn’t pull totally away, and his lips were so close to mine that I could almost feel them.
“Come on, let’s do shots,’ he said pulling away from me, going to the bar, and leaving me there all out of breath and flustered. What the hell had just happened?
I know I should have felt all shocked and disgusted by the incestuous advances my son was making, but instead I felt all soft and girly under the spell of a gorgeous and dominant man, who just happened to be my son.
I didn’t want to run away. I wanted more.
He was shaking the bartenders hand as I come back to Earth, and I wondered how it was that my son, who had only been twenty-one for a week, knew all of these bartenders.
He came back, not with two shots, but with two shot glasses and a tumbler full of liquor. He poured the shots from the tumbler, and with that boyish grin on his face, handed one to me.
“What are these?”
“Vodka and lime juice. Very clean.”
“And strong.”
“Yeah!” He grinned.
He did the shot first and I followed feeling the heat go down my throat and into my stomach. I grimaced to get the taste out of my mouth, while Jack laughed at me.
“I’m not doing any more,” I said but it was more of a plea than a command.
“Just one more?”
“Jack, you’re going to get me drunk.”
“Yeah, I know.” Again he laughed.
“It’s not funny,” I said as he handed me the refilled shot glass.
“We have one last stop tonight, and you’re gonna wanna be drunk for that one.”
“Where’s that?”
“You’ll see. Drink up.”
Once again the heat was down my throat, and I fought to keep it down.
“That’s it. No more,” I said almost gagging.
“Okay,” he laughed. “Here have a beer to wash it down.
And as I washed the alcohol down with even more alcohol, Jack took his place back between my thighs again, and brazenly I wrapped my ankles around his legs to pull him in tighter.
“Have you ever done body shots?” He asked as I put down the beer and felt his erection press up against my panties.
“I don’t know what they are,” I said acting like it was the most natural thing to have your son grinding the bulge in his pants up against my white thong panties.
“Well the girl lies flat on her back and people do shots out of her navel.”
“Does the girl have to be naked?’
“Don’t have to be, but it helps.”
“Well we can’t do them here.”
“No, not here. At home.”
“You want to do shots out of your mother’s navel?” It was the first time all night that either one of us mentioned our true relationship.
“Out of Susan’s navel.”
“Susan and your mother are one and the same. What you do to Susan, you do to your mother.”
“I know,” he said real cocky. “That goes without saying.”
“Just wanted to know where you’re going with this?”
“Not done yet. One more place.” He either misheard me because of the din, or he chose to pretend he did, either way I never got my answer.
“And that place is?”
“You’ll find out,” he said and went to give me a kiss, but I turned my head and so he kissed me on the neck. Which just happened to be as bad, because when I felt his lips down the nape of my neck I let out a low moan and then using my legs, I involuntarily pulled him tight up against me.
“Just hold on, mom. One more place. And I bet you’ll find it interesting.”
We didn’t even dance again, though I would have liked to, but something was telling me this dance was not over.
Back in the limo he had his hands all over me, and he was kissing my neck again. He had one leg between mine, and his thigh was pushing my skirt far up my legs. At one point even I could see the white of my panties. And yet I didn’t stop him.
“Let’s have a drink,” he declared as he sat up leaving me all hot and bothered.
“We drank all the champagne,” I said as I tried to orientate myself.
“Let me ask the driver.”
Earlier he had put the divider up between us and the driver for privacy, but now he was slowly lowering it.
“Driver?”
“Yes sir?”
“Is there any more champagne?”
“No sir just the one bottle, but there is beer back there.”
“Where?”
“Under the arm rest there’s a cooler. Just holds a six pack though.”
“That will be enough. Thanks.” And then I heard the partition move back up. Jack was quick to find the beer and opened a bottle for the two of us. I’m not usually a beer drinker, but it was so cold and I was so thirsty. How can you drink so much, and be so thirsty?
We finished one bottle and Jack opened another.
“Let’s do body shots,” he proposed.
“Where?”
“Right here. You can lay down on the seat, and I can do them out of your belly button.”
“Jack.”
“Come on. It’ll be fun. It’s not vodka and lime, but it’ll do.”
I just shook my head in disbelief, but I did it. I laid down on the back seat, and pulled my blouse up so that he could get to my navel. But he wasn’t happy with how high I pulled up my top, so he pushed it up some more. So much so that I had to stop him from pushing it up over my bra. And as he did so I rolled my eyes because of his brazenness and my lack of will power.
“Relax. Hold still,” he said as he sat on the floor of the limo and meticulously started to pour the beer onto my stomach. It felt cold and wet which wasn’t surprising since the beer was right out of the ice.
“Ah, that’s cold.”
“Stop you’ll spill it,” he said and then I felt his lips on my stomach. That sensation was even more alarming than the cold beer.
“Let me have some,” I said still thirsty.
“Here.” He gave me the bottle, but kept his lips on my stomach.
“What no body shots off of you?” I asked.
“Can’t. My stomach’s too hairy.”
I just laughed and drank the beer until his lips started to wander down my stomach, and his hands were pulling my skirt down.
“Ah, Ah, Ah!” I chided him and put my hand on my skirt.
“I was just getting where it spilled. You don’t want beer down your skirt.”
“I’m afraid that’s not all that was going down my skirt.”
He just laughed, and then I felt the car slow down to almost a stop.
Jack popped up and looked around. “We’re here.”
“Where is here,’ I said finishing up the last of the beer.
We got out of the limo, and I straightened myself up as best as I could.
“You look sensational,” Jack said to ease my fears of looking like some tart who just had sex in the back of a limo.
I looked up at the name of the place blazoned with red neon lights.
“A gentleman’s club?” I said accusing him. “Oh no Jack. I’m not going into a strip joint.”
“Oh come on. It’ll be fun. It’s not like that. Very high class. Guys bring their dates here all the time.”
“Jack.”
“Come on. It’s my twenty-first birthday. You have to take me to a strip club.”
“Your mother’s not taking you to a strip club.” I know what you are thinking. I already let him kiss me, grind on me, and then do body shots off my naked stomach. It was too late to do the parental thing now.
“My mother’s not, but Susan is.”
With that he grabbed my hand and before I could protest anymore we were walking through the door, with me trying not to fall off my stilettos.
The first thing I noticed was how beautiful the women were. My God, they were like models, models with big plastic tits.
And he wasn’t lying about there being other women patrons, because I saw quite a few about the place, though the guys still outnumbered us ten to one. They were very beautiful too, and they seemed just as interested in the dancers as the men were.
I couldn’t blame them because it was an eye opening and mind bending experience. For even though I was a woman surrounded by a throng of good looking well dressed men, I found I couldn’t take my eyes off these tantalizing women. I was a captive audience.
And though I took some comfort in not being the only woman patron in the establishment, I still felt like a virgin in a harem, so I hung on to Jack like he was my protector. Jack, on the other hand, acted like he owned the place.
“You come to strip clubs often?” I asked as we stood holding hands at the bar.
“No. Only my second time.”
“But you like these kind of places?”
“They have their appeal. But they get frustrating after a while.”
“With all these naked women around, I can imagine.”
“How do you like it?”
“I’m not sure. The women are beautiful.”
“You like watching naked women dance?”
“Never thought I would.”
“Yet it’s strangely alluring, isn’t it?”
“I’m not a lesbian, Jack.”
“Didn’t say you were, but you find yourself drawn to them, don’t you?”
And as I watched, an incredibly hot woman, completely naked, except for a swatch of cloth covering her vulva, twirled around a metal pole. I had to nod my head yes in response, which prompted a great roar of laughter from him.
“I’m glad you like it, because there’s more.”
We got our drinks from a female bartender whose outfit was only slightly less revealing than the dancers, and who was so hot I started to feel self conscious.
With drinks in hand we walked over to a group of low leather chairs, which Jack sat in, but before I could make my way to the seat next to him, he pulled me by the hand and eased me down into his lap for the second time that night, and this time he was getting even more friendly.
“You missed your calling,” he said as he put his drink down on a near table and wrapped his strong arms around me. “You’d of made a great stripper.”
“Oh yeah,” I said dismissively.
“Why? You have the looks and body for it, and I’ve seen you dance.”
“Thanks, but I don’t have the boobs for it.”
“I don’t know. I’ve never seen your boobs,” he said looking straight at them. “I bet you have great boobs.”
“Jack!”
That was always such a fantasy for men, and some women, but not me. The thought of being naked in front of a lot of fat, bald headed, drooling business men didn’t turn me on.
But that night I’m convinced that I would have done it for Jack. For Jack I would have come out on stage in some hot little outfit and stripped it off piece by piece, dancing for him naked but for the tiniest g-string.
“Why don’t you take that bra off, Mom? You’d look better without it.”
“Are you drunk? You’d see my nipples right through this shirt.”
“Look around you. That’s what this whole place is about; tits.”
“And ass.”
“Right. But if you’re a woman, exposing your body in this place is pretty much mandatory. It is, as you said, a strip Joint. Look at the other women patrons.”
I looked around. He was right. If the girls in this place weren’t naked they were almost naked or in the process of getting naked. Even the woman patrons were so scantily dressed that I felt like a nun in what I was wearing.
No one would even notice,” my son said looking right at my tits.
“Except you?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Where would I put it once I had it off? I don’t have any pockets, and it won’t fit in my purse.”
“Just give it to me.”
I don’t know what kind of hold my son had over me that night, or maybe I do, but I got up off his lap, went to the ladies room, and in one of the stalls, I stripped off my blouse and bra, and then put my blouse back on.
Like I had thought, in that tight cotton/spandex top you could see my tits like I wasn’t wearing anything. Which kind of turned me on since he would be admiring my girls, I hoped.
But then I walked out of the ladies room and back into the club, and no one noticed that my nipples were poking out like a pair of golf tees. I walked over to Jack, and nonchalantly handed him my bra.
“Thanks,” he said and then stuck my underwear into his shirt. He then reached out and pulled me back down into his lap.
“You look wonderful.”
“I feel naked.”
“You are naked, and you’re in my lap.”
“You like that don’t you?” I asked staring at him intensely.
“Yes.”
“And you’re sure you want to do this?”
“Oh yeah!”
“How long have you wanted this?”
“As far back as I can remember.”
“Really?”
“Mom, you are so beautiful, you don’t understand. You have like this mythical status amongst my friends.”
“What do you mean?”
“They all think you’re a MILF. And you are.”
“Me?”
“You know that video, Stacy’s Mom?”
“You mean that old song?”
“Yeah. They sing that all the time when you’re around, but instead they sing Jackie’s mom.”
I did remember his idiot friends always singing that stupid song.
“Isn’t that my ring tone on your phone?”
“Yeah. I put it there as a joke.”
“You’re an ass.”
“Anyway, I’m glad you took that bra off. You’ve got great tits ma.”
“Thanks, I guess,” I said pretending that he wasn’t looking right at them, though I was excited he was. “But they’re too small.”
“No they’re cute.”
“That’s the wrong thing to say to a woman who doesn’t have big boobs.”
“Did you ever think about getting a boob job?”
“I never did. I thought they’d look big and stupid on me, but now that I look around at all these beautiful girls, I don’t know.”
The waitress came around and took our order. I was glad to be getting a drink. I was sitting on my son’s lap with my nipples poking out of my top, and he had a hand between my legs that he was slowly working up my thighs.
The waitress came back, and as I was reaching for my drink, he brushed a finger across my panties. I almost dropped my cocktail before I had a chance to grab it. He was getting quite brazen, but amazingly, I sat there and let him do it.
I grabbed his face by the chin and brought my lips dangerously close to his. “Keep you fingers out of my panties,” I commanded. “I know what you’re thinking. Not here!”
“Okay. Okay,” he stammered with this big arrogant smile on his face. “Can I have a kiss instead?”
“If you must.” I said deliciously, and then I lightly touched my lips to his. But then he brought a hand around the back of my head and pushed our lips together. I felt my son’s tongue in my mouth for the first time. And as I met it with my own, he again brushed a finger across the front of my panties.
Alerted, I pulled my lips far enough away to whisper. “You promised.”
“They aren’t in your panties.” And then he pushed our lips back together and I made out with my son as he lightly stroked my labia through the thin material of my lace panties. And he was a real good kisser.
“Let’s get a lap dance?” He proclaimed after sucking on my tongue for about five minutes.
“No, no, no-no!”
“Why not?”
“What do you think, that I’m a lesbian?”
“You don’t have to be…” He started on his argument, but I cut him short.
“NO!”
“But I wanted a lap dance, Mom.”
“Forget it.” I knew that I didn’t want a naked woman straddling me. I was already confused about things that night, but I also was sure that I didn’t want some hot young thing grinding on my boy. Okay, I admit it, I was being possessive. This was our night.
“Please? It’s my birthday.”
“I tell you what, I’ll give you a lap dance.”
“You? Where?” He asked with his attention peeked.
“In the limo on the way home.”
“Really?”
“You’d like that, huh?”
“Oh yeah.”
“Then I guess I’ll have to do it for you,” I said in a tolerant tone that was all show.
“You know ma, the girls are topless when they give you a lap dance.”
I looked at him as he was looking at my tits, and I swallowed hard. “Yes, I know.”
“Then I accept, Mom.”
“So we’re back to mom again? No more Susan?”
“No,” he blushed.
“And that’s what you want, you want your mother giving you a lap dance in the back of a limo like a little slut?”
“Topless?”
“We’ll see.”
“No. Topless.”
“Okay. What I won’t do for you?” I sighed.
He was like an animal when we got in the back seat of that limo. I must have really got him going. But he was really getting me going too. He was kissing me, with one hand in my hair and another outside of my blouse on my tits, and his thigh between placed between my legs grinding on my twat.
But then he pulled me on top of him, and as I rested my hands on his muscular chest, I was straddling him with my skirt hiked up so far that he had to be able to see his mom’s white panties.
“I’ll take that lap dance now, Mom.”
“Oh you will, will you?”
“That was the deal.”
“I know, I have to play stripper for you.”
“My mom, the stripper. Nice!”
“I’ve never done this before,” I lied. “but here goes.” And then I started to grind on him. I didn’t know how these strippers did this all night and not feel anything, because it felt wonderful to me.
I had his bulge positioned right on my pussy lips and as I rocked back and forth. I was in heaven, and he seemed to be enjoying it too.
“You give great lap dances for someone who’s never done it before.”
“Beginner’s luck, I guess.”
“Bullshit,” he said laughing. “Now Mom, your blouse.”
I wasn’t going to take my blouse off in the back of a limo for all to see, but I did want him to see my girls, so slowly I started to pull the material up as I ground on his erection.
The look on his face was sheer awe as the cotton/spandex, which had been clinging to my tits, was now being pulled up and over them. First just bottom tit, and then the nipples, which were erect in full show for him.
“My God, you’re beautiful, Mom. They’re even more beautiful than I imagined!”
My breasts weren’t big, they’re young girl’s tits really, but they were pretty and petite, and I was a little proud of them still being so perky, especially at my age.
“I’ve changed my mind,” he said all breathy. “Don’t ever get a boob job. They’re perfect.” And then he ran his hands from my hips up to my girls. God that felt good. I loved when guys played with my tits, roughly tweaking my nipples as I came close to orgasm.
And then I did something that I didn’t believe I had in me. I slid off of him and lay down on the floor between his legs.
He looked at me mesmerized as I started to massage the bulge in his pants, my little hands caressing that huge erection of his. His breaths started to get slower and deeper as I undid his fly, and then reaching in, I pulled out his cock, red and throbbing.
“Holy shit!” He exclaimed as I grabbed the shaft of my boys member with one hand, and then I started to twirl my finger around the head of it, all wet and slippery with his pre-come.
His father had taught me years ago how to do this. It was an incredible tease because of how sensitive the tip is. Jack started to rock his hips as I drew little circles and then once in a while slide my wet, slick finger up the bottom groove and then up and over the opening where I knew eventually his seed would come that night. The real question was, where would it end up?
“Oh God Mom,” he whispered as if he was in agony. “Suck my cock.”
So soon, I thought, my God I’ve just started. But would I really do it? Would I really take my young son’s cock in my mouth?
“Please, Mom, please,” he pleaded. And then I knew. I got on my knees and slowly descended down to him, kissing the shaft first, and then running my tongue around the head, before wrapping my lips around his cock, and finally feeling him deep in my throat.
And then the limo slowed down.
“What’s going on?” I asked releasing him and looking through the windows.
“Ah fuck. We’re home,” he answered frustrated.
“So soon?”
“Yeah, time flies when you’re having fun, huh mom?”
I just smiled a devious little smile for him, and kissing him one last time on the head, I sat back down next to him and pulled my shirt down.
“Ah Ma, don’t”
“Jack, honey, I’m not getting out of this limo with my tits sticking out. It’s bad enough you’ve seen them, I’ll be damned if the limo driver does.”
“Pity.”
“And you better put that away,” I said referring to his erect cock.
“God, I have no luck.”
As Jack dealt with the driver, I ran into the house in sheer panic, because suddenly I realized that we would be all alone in the house, a house with four bedrooms and there would be no teasing anymore.
But as I got into the living room, I just stood there paralyzed with trepidation. Playing kissy face and giving him a little head was one thing, but I knew that he would want more, much more. How stupid was I to let it go this far. Would I really fuck my own son?”
And then he was at he door with a wild look in his eyes, those intense, baby blue, bedroom eyes.
He didn’t say anything, he just closed the front door and as I meekly backed away from him, he walked slowly, determinedly towards me. As if in a dream he was upon me, and before I could react, he was kissing me as he then had my blouse up and over my head and my skirt down by my ankles.
“Mom, I want you so bad,” he said in that breathy voice, and then I was up in his strong arms and he was carrying me naked, except for that shoestring of a thong, up our stairs and into his bedroom.
It was like a scene from a bodice ripper as he threw me on his bed and then started to disrobe.
“Jack, this has gone too far,” I pleaded stupidly. Wasn’t it going too far when I let him kiss me, when I took my bra off in that strip club and paraded around braless for him, when I gave him a lap dance in the back seat of that limo, brazenly showing off my tits, and then ultimately giving him head?
“You’re naked and in my bed, Ma. This has just begun.”
“Oh Jesus, Jack,” I said as he descended on top of me, the two of us naked except for some dental floss that I was wearing for underwear.
He was between my legs, his cock as hard as a rock, kissing my mouth, my neck, my tits, and then easing himself down my body, he was kissing my stomach, and then pulling that dental floss aside, he was kissing my nether lips. All I could do was moan and run my fingers through his hair as his tongue found my clit.
God, he was good. He knew just what to do, what I wanted. He licked, kissed and sucked, only to stop to kiss my thighs as I subsequently cried in protest at his teasing.
“Jack please,” I heard myself pleading. The woman who just minutes before was pleading for him to stop, was now beseeching him to ravage her.
And then he was back at it, my hands on the back of his head so that he couldn’t get away again. And as he took me to heights I haven’t reached in so long, I heard someone screaming in ecstasy, and it was me.
Wave after wave of incredible orgasm crashed over me as my son licked my pussy.
In fact I was so overtaken by all my orgasms that I didn’t feel him climb back up my body and move in between my legs.
“Jack, wait, you really want this?” I asked knowing what was going to happen next, and being completely blown away by it.
“Yes.”
“Why? Why me?”
“Because I love you, and it’s what I’ve wanted for so fuckin’ long.”
“Jack I…”
“Mom, I want you, and I always have. If you don’t know just how fuckin’ hot you are…”
“Shhh,” I shushed him. “Okay baby. If that’s what you want, I want it too.” And that was it. I finally admitted it. I wanted him to fuck me. I wanted him inside me, filling me up with his cock.
“You want me to fuck you, Mom?”
“Yes baby. I want you inside of me.”
With that he got on his knees, and as if with one motion he pulled my thong down and off my legs, pulled me by my hips, and then as I thought I was going to pass out from the anticipation, he entered me.
“Oh God baby. Do it,” I begged. “Fuck mommy. Fuck me hard.” Oh God the intensity of the passion was so overwhelming. It felt like I was getting laid for the first time.
I knew he wanted to watch, watch my body as he fucked me, but I wanted to feel his chest against mine, so I grabbed his hands and pulled him down on me.
My tits pressed against that solid chest of his made me want him even more, and I pulled my knees up high toward my chest so that he could get deeper inside of me.
And then we were kissing, hard, wet deep kisses. My nipples rubbing up against his muscular chest, the deep kisses, and the feel of his cock up against my clit was just overwhelming. My son wanted me, wanted my body, wanted to fuck me, it just all made me feel like a beautiful woman in the arms of a strong good looking man.
“I love you Mom,” he said as he penetrated me over and over.
“I love you too, Jack.”
“I love fucking you.”
“I love it too, baby. You can come in me baby. It’s okay, I don’t care.”
I felt his hands on my ass, holding me, so that he could drive his cock deep inside me, filling me up, and I knew that I was in heaven, because heaven couldn’t feel any better than having him fuck me.
Just when I thought I had used up all my orgasms for the night, and I was doing this only for him, I felt the crest of a new orgasm surprisingly coming over me.
“Oh God, baby, don’t stop,” I pleaded as I rocked my pelvis to the rhythm of his thrusting.
“I’m going to come, Mom.”
“Not yet. Not yet, baby. Please don’t stop,” I pleaded as I wrapped my legs around him so that I could feel every inch of him entering me.
“I can’t help it. You’re just so fuckin’ hot.”
“Mmmm. Mmmm. Mmmm,” I humed, as I felt myself getting closer.
“I love you, Mom,” I heard him grunt as I felt his come blasting inside of me. And then I started to convulse as my boy brought me to yet another orgasm. All time stopped, and I felt like my orgasm was the only thought in the world.
Exhausted and sated he gave me one last kiss, and we wrapped our tongues around each other’s for one last time, before he rolled off of me in a pool of sweat.
“Jesus. Holy shit,” he exclaimed spreading his arms and legs out. “How am I going to go back to regular girls, when you get me off like that?”
“Oh please, pretty soon you’ll be scoring some little honey and forgetting all about me.” I smiled now knowing that his orgasm was as good as mine. I rolled over resting my head on his chest, my hand resting on his stomach, and he put an arm around me as I wrapped one leg around his. I felt so happy and free lying naked next to him.
“Mmmmm,” he hummed in quiet satisfaction, which made me so happy it nearly broke my heart.
After a few minutes I could feel him drifting off as we lay there entangled together, and I started to realize that my wish for another round was about to be dashed, so I started to slip away from him thinking that I shouldn’t be there in the morning when he woke up.
When he sat up with a start. “Where you going?” He asked in a voice that sounded almost sorrowful.
“I don’t know. I thought you were going to sleep?”
“I’m not ready to go to sleep yet.”
“Oh no?” I asked hopefully.
“Come here,” he said and pulled me back into his arms, and he kissed me once as I felt my tits, once again, up against his chest.
And then I felt his dick again, hard as a rock, against my stomach.
“Really Jack? Again?”
“What can I say, Mom. You’re the only one whose ever done this to me.”
“What do you want to do?” I asked with glee.
“Roll over on your stomach.”
“Okay baby. Whatever you want.” And I rolled over and laid flat on the bed.
He crawled up behind me, and pulling me with his strong hands, he propped up my hips enough so that I was barely on my knees, and as I guided him with my hand, he was in me again, pumping away. God, I thought, I could really get used to this.
“Mom, you have the sweetest little ass.”
“Don’t get any ideas, honey,” I said as he rested his weight on my back and rhythmically drove his cock into me.
“Yeah, right. I can’t promise you anything,” came his sarcastic answer. But I didn’t care, because I was just happy that we were one again.
