Page 02
"You've hardly touched your drink, sweetie. Isn't it any good?" I asked, dipping my finger into his drink and bringing it playfully up to my lips, opening my mouth, and wiping it on my tongue. "It tastes OK to me. Is it alright?"
"Oh," his head jarred back, his eyes suddenly turning away from my mouth as I dragged my finger out. "Uh, yeah, Mom. It's great." He brought the drink to his mouth and tipped the glass up.
"OK, son. I'm going to go lie down for a while."
I left the kitchen, not inviting him to join me. I had barely laid back on the couch before he entered the room. I smiled at him and lay back in my now familiar position, my eyes closed. A moment later, I felt him kneeling on the couch, his knee between my calves. I didn't part my legs for him, but felt his hands a few seconds later pressing against the inside of my knees, pushing my legs gently apart. I didn't resist. I felt his torso nestle against me as he lowered his body onto mine. His hands brushed my breasts on either side as he used them to brace himself, but he didn't lower his head to my chest. I could sense that he was staring at my chest, but I didn't open my eyes. I began to breath evenly, as if going to sleep.
He must have been a little perplexed to realize that he couldn't see my nipples jutting up through the flannel like he could with the stretchy top I had so brazenly worn the last time. Nor would he be able to feel them in such fine detail. Oh, well, he'd have to content himself with rubbing them through the soft flannel. That would feel nice too, I thought. I waited expectantly for his head to fall, and the feel of his hand gently cupping my breast. But it didn't come. I waited for long minutes, in vain.
Then I felt it. His fingers softly urging my top button out of its eyelet. He was very careful. I could barely feel him even though the material lay directly on my skin. What was he up to? I couldn't move, or speak, or even open my eyes. I was frozen. It had been many, many years since a man had tried to undress me. I could sense strange, dormant feelings stirring within myself.
The button popped loose. Immediately I felt a faint tug on the next button. Two? OK. Two buttons would be OK. I relaxed, becoming amused at how furtively he worked away at the button, almost as if he thought I was really asleep and would suddenly wake up and reprimand him, or worse yet, stop him. It was all I could do not to smile. He was so cute.
I was so wrapped up in how endearing he was that I wasn't aware of the moment he finally worked the second button free. I just realized that he had moved on to the third button. Three? No, not three. With three buttons undone, my pajama blouse would be open almost to the bottom of my breasts. I couldn't let him undo three. At the thought, a sudden tingling wave washed over the surface of both my breasts, culminating in my nipples. They both stiffened at the same time. The button popped. Then nothing. I could hear my breath, not so even now. And his. The same. He hadn't even touched me, and I was very excited.
The fourth button began to move. Some seemingly invisible, irresistible force was causing it to loosen. Four? Four was a good number. Four was a good place. It was right over my belly button. I had a nice looking navel. He'd like it. Every man I'd been with had remarked on how sexy my navel was. Four was a good place to stop then. Out it came. I felt his finger briefly dip into my navel, then quickly away. Another long pause.
Was he wondering if he could get away with parting my blouse for a look? I'm sure he was very curious. Should I let him look at my breasts? After all, I'd let him feel them up for a long time, until he had to run to the bathroom to relieve himself. Would he need to leave right away if I let him see? I wanted to feel his hands on me. I didn't want him to go right away. Bad girl, Paula.
Before I could decide whether to part my pajamas for him, I felt his fingers working on the last button. He was just as furtive and gentle in his work as he was on the first. I was going to let him. I was going to let my son see my breasts. They were tingling constantly now. My nipples were almost aching, they were so stiff and hard. The last button gave way.
I felt him press his belly harder into me. I could feel his hands coming up between my breasts, gently grasping the lapels of my pajamas, tugging them slowly to my sides. The flannel softly dragged across my erect nipples shooting bolts of erotic lightening into my chest, up to my head, and down to my groin. I could feel my pussy pulse against his belly.
My tits were bare, his hands were sliding across, barely touching my skin. They hovered, one above each breast, before closing down and squeezing. Ohhhh. My son's hands were on my bare tits.
"Beautiful," he whispered, "beautiful," he sighed again, uttering the only two words heard in our house for the last half an hour. He kneaded them, continually, for a long time before finally bringing his fingers together, at the same time, to squeeze each nipple. As before, he pinched and tugged them, pulling them up to hold them away from my chest, letting them go only to grasp them immediately to repeat his teasing.
I loved it! No one had ever spent so much time, so lovingly, caressing my breasts. They had never felt so alive. I could feel myself arching my back to push my tits up, pressing my pelvis into his belly. My breathing was ragged. I couldn't hear his breath over my own. He pushed down, fingers straining my breast away from my nipple, leaving it stretched like a pillar reaching for heaven. But heaven came to it. His mouth enveloped my aching nipple, his tongue pressing it to the roof of his mouth, before he sucked it hard.
"Ohhhhhhhh," I cried. No, I screamed to myself. I lifted my arms to push him away. I grasped his head just as he sucked again, hard. My arms grasped his head and clutched it tightly to me, as I arched my back strongly, trying hard to shove my tit completely into his mouth. "Ohhhhhhh."
What was I doing? Push him off, my mind screamed. Instead, I held his mouth to me, gasping, silently screaming in joy as I felt him start sucking my nipple again. He sucked so long, bringing it so deep into his mouth. I loosened my hold on his head as he released my nipple. When he pulled his head up, I redirected it to my other breast and wantonly shoved its nipple up to his lips. I felt them open and welcome it into his mouth. Ecstasy, as it too was pressed against the roof of his mouth, surrounded by his warm, wet tongue.
I ground my breast into his mouth, eager for more. I squeezed him between my thighs, and pushed my pussy against his belly. When he released my nipple only to suck it in hard again, I thrust my pelvis against him several times in quick succession, unable to prevent myself from making little fucking motions against my son. God, I was so horny!
Just as I was contemplating abandoning all sense of reason, just as I was thinking about pushing my pajama bottoms down over my hips, he suddenly got up and ran upstairs.
I was in shock. The shock of his leaving, and the shock at how far I'd gone. And shock at how horny I was and how different the feeling was this time. Forbidden. I couldn't do this, I shouldn't feel like this. But it didn't dampen my feeling at all. I desperately needed to come. I reached down to cup my sex in my hand. Slipping my other hand under my pajamas and onto my bare, wet pussy, I began sliding my fingers up and down my soaking slit, and then up to rub little circles around my clit. It didn't take long for me to come.
As I headed up the stairs to change, I heard Don's car on the driveway. God. How long had he been playing with my tits? Then, feeling a flush as I realized how close we'd been to getting caught, I rushed to my room to get dressed before Don came in.
*****
That night I dressed for bed right after dinner. Donny, unusual for him, was still downstairs when I came down. I had a house coat loosely belted over a pair of pajamas like the flannel ones I'd worn that afternoon except they were cotton with a top tied together in the front by laces, and matched by a knee length skirt instead of pants. To Don's surprised look, I said felt like being comfortable while relaxing with my family. I tousled Donny's hair as I squeezed by in front of him as he sat on the couch. I sat at the other end, near Don, who was reading some business accounting publication.
"Donny's watching a movie," Don said as I sat down, without looking up at me.
"That's OK. I'm going to read," I replied, picking up a book, placing a pillow against the arm of the couch and leaning back against it. I put my feet up on the couch, toward Donny, and began to read.
Though nervous with his Dad in the room, I knew Donny was glancing at my legs, more and more as the movie went on since his Dad kept his nose buried in his magazine. My knees were pulled up to rest my book on my legs, but were demurely closed together. Still, my legs and feet were bare. I knew I had nice legs. I worked hard to keep them shapely, and my skin nice.
After a while, Don got up. "I'll put the kettle on for some tea on before I go to the boy's room," he announced, disappearing into the kitchen. As he left, I stretched my feet out, dropping the book in my lap, arching my toes until they just touched Donny's thigh. Donny kept his eyes on the TV. When Don left the kitchen and headed upstairs for the bathroom, I reached up to open my housecoat. The air was heavy with forbidden anticipation.
Donny still kept his eyes on the TV, even though my breasts were faintly visible through the thin cotton material. But when I placed my fingers on the laces in front, I could see his eyes reluctantly pulling toward me. I looked down and not at Donny in case he would be afraid to look. I toyed with the laces, partly to tease him, but partly because I wanted to be sure Don had gone upstairs to do more than pee. When I was sure, I tugged the lace out from my chest, pulling until it had sufficient force to break the little bow knot. Pulling it completely undone, I dropped the lace to the side, over the swell of my breast, picking the other end up to drape it over my other breast. I could almost physically feel Donny's eyes on me now.
I picked up the end of the lace for the second tie and began tug it out, teasingly. Just then, the toilet flushed upstairs. I could feel a little jerk as Donny pulled his gaze away. I dug my toes into his thigh. When I sensed his gaze had returned, I tugged the second lace apart. My thin cotton pajama top was now undone to the bottom of my breasts, and though their tips were covered, the inner swells of my cleavage were plain to see. I pushed my shoulders back to widen the gap between the lapels, letting Donny have a good look. When I heard the bathroom door open, I pulled the housecoat closed over my breasts.
"Did you pour the kettle?" Don asked as he came downstairs.
"Oh, sorry, honey, I forgot," I replied apologetically.
"That's OK. I'll get it," he answered.
Once Don was settled back into his chair behind me, I casually reached up to open my housecoat. Although ostensibly looking down at the book in my lap, I was aware that Donny had turned his attention to me. After a few minutes, I grasped the third lace and began to tug down on it. I kept this up for several minutes before pulling it undone as well. My top was now open to my navel. Only one lace remained.
Moving my fingers to the last lace, I tugged on it for quite some time. Then, absently, I dropped it. I could feel the tangible disappointment emanating from Donny. But I could feel it subside as I traced my fingers up between my breasts and dragged it slowly toward the couch, pulling my top open, exposing the upper swell of my breast. Then, slowly again, I pulled my finger down, pulling the top until it dragged the thin cotton over my stiff nipple. I kept pulling until my entire tit was exposed, bare to his gaze.
I left it bare like that, in all its glory for him to enjoy. When I could feel the heat of his eyes, I cupped the bottom of my breast and lifted it slightly, removing the slight sag and presenting my nipple toward him. At that moment, I slid my eyes up to meet his, and smiled. Aware of my gaze, he lifted his eyes off my tit to meet mine. His face was expressionless.
"It's someone else's job to pour. I did my bit." Don's voice jarred me back to reality. Quickly, I pulled my robe closed around me and stood up.
"OK, honey, I'll get it," I tossed back as I hurried into the kitchen. As I left the living room, a strange, erotic glow swept over me, replacing the fear that had flooded me at the first sound of his voice. It spread through my groin as I poured the green tea into three mugs that Don had already laid out on the counter next to the teapot. I'd never felt such a strong, sexual feeling! It was searing through me.
I turned as I heard the soft footsteps behind me. I knew it was Donny. I leaned back against the counter as he walked up and stood in front of me. I looked up into his face, my chocolate brown hair falling in messy waves over my shoulders. My robe was untied, parted a few inches in front, enough to show that my pajama top was undone except for the last tie. Donny reached down to grasp the lace ends of the last tie and quickly gave it a sharp tug. Pulling it apart, he slid his hands inside onto my waist and then brought them up to grasp the bottom of my bare breasts.
I nodded toward the door and the living room where his father was reading his book. Briefly, he glanced that way and then returned his gaze to my breasts. His thumbs curved up to flick each nipple several times, then back to press them into my tits. Releasing one, he stooped down to take it into his mouth. It was all I could do not to cry out.
"Hey, where's that tea?" Don's voice swooped into the kitchen.
"Coming," I yelled, pushing Donny's head, trying to pry his mouth off my tit. I couldn't dislodge him. He sucked in hard. "Ohhhh, God, Donny, don't," I whispered into his ear, pulling hard on his head until my nipple broke free of his mouth. Stepping away, I pulled my robe closed and cinched the belt tight. Grabbing two mugs, I said, "Bring your tea."
After giving Don his tea, I returned to my position on the couch, once again placing my book against my drawn up knees. Donny came in and took his place as well, but sitting closer to me near the middle of the couch, his thighs pressing against my toes. After a few minutes, I put my book down in my lap, and reached for my tea, holding it in both hands. I lifted my feet and stretched my legs across Donny's lap. I simply sat and drank my tea, but I didn't make any move to loosen my robe.
Donny ignored me, sitting quietly, watching the TV intently. But after a while, he pulled his hand, which had been laying across the top of my legs stretched over his lap, down to his side, and pushed it along his thigh under mine. A minute later, I felt his fingers stroking the underside of my thighs, on the inside, where the skin is so soft and tender. Donny looked like he was simply sitting watching TV, with no discernible movement. I matched his demeanor, pretending that nothing was happening.
His fingers felt good on my legs and I pulled my feet up a little, lifting my knees and thighs to give him more room to move underneath. He took immediate advantage, slipping his fingers further between my thighs, and moving them in longer strokes toward my bottom. I didn't protest until he reached the very top and tried to press against my panties. Then I closed my legs, clamping his fingers firmly between my thighs. When I could feel him staying still, I opened my legs, releasing him. He continued to stroke my legs as before, but soon returned for a second attempt on my panties. Again I clamped down on him, and he smiled.
The little brat! He was playing. I released him again, allowing him to continue. This time, it was a little longer before he moved to my panties, but I blocked his advance once more. He waited patiently for my release. As soon as I let go, he slid his fingers up and made direct contact with my panties. I quickly clamped my legs together, trapping his hand firmly against my panties. He smiled and turned to look at me, basking in his little win. I couldn't help but smile back. I gave his hand an extra squeeze and let him go, expecting him to withdraw his hand. But he didn't. He kept it there, but he didn't move it. I expect he thought that would be a violation. When I didn't move to push it away, or to clamp down on him again, he pressed his fingers harder against my panties, against my pussy.
I sighed and laid back, holding my cup between my breasts. I waited until he looked at me and held his gaze as he continued pressing on my mound. It was the most erotic feeling, my husband behind me, blithely unaware that his son was pressing his fingers on his wife's moistening pussy. I was becoming very wet when I heard Don rustle behind me.
"I must have dozed off. Well, I'm off," he said as he rose from his chair. Thankfully, Donny had quickly pulled his hand away by the time Don leaned down to kiss me.
"You two look relaxed," he commented as he straightened up. "That's good, Donny. I know you've been having a tough time and I'm glad to see you getting through it. Good night."
"I better come too," I said, getting up to follow him. I was suddenly afraid of what would happen if I stayed. "Goodnight, Donny." I kissed him, ignoring the disappointment in his face, and avoiding the hand that tried to grab my robe to pull me back. "Goodnight, sweetie. See you tomorrow." I quickly caught up to my husband.
*****
I very much needed to be fucked, but I put off Don's half-hearted advances. I just couldn't have sex with Don after today's closeness with Donny. And strangely, Don's approach didn't excite me in the least. I just knew it wouldn't satisfy me, this throbbing in my pussy. Don soon fell asleep, and so did I.
I awoke in the middle of the night, very thirsty. Although I couldn't hear anything, I felt he was still downstairs. I was afraid to go down there, to be alone with him, but I went anyway. I didn't bother with my robe, or my slippers. I simply went in my nightie and panties. Supposedly wary of crossing the line too far, I nevertheless padded barefoot downstairs dressed in a manner almost guaranteed to elicit a sexual reaction.
He wasn't sitting on the couch. Looking at it, my mind filled with the image of me allowing my son to touch my panties while my husband read a book behind me. I could feel a tingle starting down there as the image played through my mind. Suddenly shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I fetched a drink from the kitchen, then headed back to bed. What had come over me? Getting up in the night, wandering around the house in just my nightie, hoping to excite my son? Get a grip, Paula!
Cresting the top of the stairs, I sensed rather than saw Donny, standing in the hallway between me and my bedroom door, still slightly ajar as I'd left it on my way downstairs. I froze. Donny stood there, clothed only in his pajama bottoms which did nothing to hide his excitement. I didn't make a move to get to my room. Donny just stared a me, his eyes moving from my breasts down to my toes, lingering on my midsection.
Thinking he wanted to have a look before letting me go back to bed, I raised my hand to the laces holding the front of my nightie together. Slowly, in as sensual a manner as I could muster, I tugged the lace, pulling it undone. Donny nodded. I reached for the second lace. He nodded again. Slowly, I tugged it undone too. The front of my nightie widened, exposing the swell of my breasts. Donny nodded again. I pulled and tugged teasingly on the third lace, taking as long to untie it as both of the first two together. I could see Donny's pajamas grow, and again when I did the fourth. Moving to the fifth and final lace, I untied it right away with a quick tug. His approval was evident in his double nod.
