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There was no way to hide my excitement from him. He worked my nipples mercilessly. Pulling, tugging, twisting. On and on. When I thought he was about to lower himself to suck them into his sweet mouth, he pressed his crotch hard against me. Even through his pants, I could feel that his cock was incredibly hard. He sawed his shaft up and down in my crevice. I wanted him to stop but I needed him to continue.
Suddenly, he lunged down hard and held himself there. I gasped loudly. Pulling back a little, he immediately humped against me hard and fast for fifteen or twenty seconds, then stopped again, pressing hard against me. Then the hard humping again. He kept that up. Over and over. Dry fucking me. Drilling me into the couch. When my gasps became too loud, he covered my mouth, forcing me to breath through my nose. But he didn't stop. When he leaned forward to cover my mouth, his cock head pressed down on my clit, eliciting an immediate reaction from me. I ground back at him, opening wider to give him better access. He fucked at me as mercilessly as I had teased him earlier. One last time he pushed down very hard, his cock vibrating against me as he came in his pants. As he stilled, I realized he couldn't have pulled away because my arms were grasping him tight and my legs were locked in a vice grip clutching his hips, my head thrown back over the arm of the couch. My own orgasm welled up inside me and I shuddered my climax against his damp crotch.
After a while, he got up and stumbled upstairs. I lay there for quite a while, listening to the soft music, while fleeting remnants of my orgasm streaked through me every few minutes. Long after the last tingle, I made my way upstairs, thankfully remembering to pick up my bra and the navy blue dress.
*****
The next morning I awoke confused about my motives. I had started with hugs, trying to encourage Donny from withdrawing into a shell as he had done several times as a child. Then, lots of hugs and comforting seemed to draw him out. I had to admit the hugging had gone a little far and that, though I had started teasing him to encourage him out of his withdrawal, I had secretly enjoyed that part of it. A lot. And then it had moved so fast. He wasn't a little boy anymore and in my excitement, I'd let him touch my breasts, and my panties, rationalizing this incredible faux pas with arguments that I needed to keep him from relapsing. But now I knew -- had always known, to be honest -- that it was more to satisfy this strange urge within myself, this need to keep him needing me, and for me to sacrifice myself for him.
Was it because I'd had a C-section when he was born because of my desire, and Don's, to keep my figure? Though we had professed medical concerns at the time, the unacknowledged truth between us was that we both wanted to preserve my body, for our mutual pleasure. But secretly, I knew, I dreaded the pain of childbirth. Did this lack of sacrifice underlay my need to offer myself now, to prove that I was a selfless mother?
I didn't know. What I did know was that I had let it get carried away, and it had to stop. As I descended the stairs in my plain, flannel pajamas, I resolved myself to limit Donny to maternal hugs, comforting for sure, but not sexual. And definitely no touching, no looking, and absolutely no rubbing!
It was the weekend. Don would be home all weekend. That should help me keep Donny at bay and return to a normal mother/son relationship.
*****
Don arrived, as usual, just as the coffee was ready and his breakfast was on the stove. As he opened the Saturday paper, he remarked, "You know, you've done a wonderful job with Donny. It usually takes months to pull him out of these episodes of his, but he's responding better than ever in just over a week." He paused, a pensive look on his face. "I don't know what you're doing, Paula, but it's sure working. If there's anything I can do to help, let me know. I know I haven't helped with these things before, but you know I'd do whatever it takes. He is our son, after all."
Well, he'd sure said a mouthful. He couldn't know how his words tore through my emotions, conflicting my clear resolve.
Don lifted his paper, gave it a shake and poked his head into it just as I heard Donny coming down the stairs. He walked quietly up to stand behind me as I cooked his father's eggs. "What's for breakfast, Mom?" he asked, leaning over my shoulder to peek. I tensed, bracing myself for an inappropriate action, but after a minute of him watching, saying and doing nothing, I relaxed. And as soon as I did, I felt it. His right hand, the side away from his father, gently cupped my left cheek. For all my resolve, I had no plan. I didn't react. I simply stood there as he curved his palm over my buttock, his fingers tracing the line between my cheeks, his touch sending zingers throughout my pelvis. In my shock, I did nothing, even as he slid his hand down along the same path, pausing at the bottom, and giving my bum a gentle squeeze.
"I like that, Mom. It looks great." He kissed me in the nape of my neck, squeezed my bottom again, kissed my ear, another squeeze, a nibble on my neck, and he turned away to the counter to pour himself some coffee.
"Can I get you some, Mom," he asked, as if nothing had happened, as if everything was as it should be. I didn't answer. Walking to the table, he set a cup down at my usual place and returned to stand behind me at the stove. Again the hand on my ass. I shivered in response, expecting its rise up my crack but he surprised me by pushing down between my legs, dragging my pajama bottoms with him, baring my ass. "Can I have my favorite, Mom, over medium?" he asked, bringing his hand slowly back up, but firmly pressed against me, his thumb hooking over the elastic and poking into my crack, blazing the trail for his wayward hand.
"Yes. Sure, son," I finally managed to mumble. My mind was numb. No angry admonishment, no jerk way from his invading touch. I had expected him to begin withdrawing after he realized that I wasn't going to play our little game, that I wasn't going to tease him with the promise of extras to bring him back. But I hadn't expected him to initiate a direct, blatantly intimate caress as soon as he neared me, and with his father right there! He had really caught me off guard before I could get ready, and right after Don had confused me. I had to get my act in order, but the tingling prompted by his illicit touch, so dangerously close to my husband, was still reverberating in my pelvis. As I thought about that, the feeling focused in my pussy, and I could feel my ass clench involuntarily, squeezing his fingers between my cheeks, sending the complete opposite signal than the one my mind intended.
He laughed softly, kissing the nape of my neck again, then gripping it between his lips and gently chewing it. I could feel myself heating up, could feel myself becoming damp. What was wrong with me?
He went to fetch another cup of coffee for himself, bringing it to the table while I filled Don's plate who immediately began to absently pick at his meal, his back toward the stove, eyes engrossed in his newspaper. Donny returned to the stove with me, standing now on the other side, facing me and his father, as I broke his eggs into the pan. He talked to me quietly as I cooked, filling the air with inane little details about his school work, but as he talked he kept his eye on his father's back, and his hand strayed out to rest flat against my tummy, away from his father's sight should he turn around.
His hand didn't stay still for long. It moved in a slow oval, slipping up underneath my pajama top to pass lightly over my naval as it traced its feather light arc. His voice lulled my mind and I had to admit his touch felt fantastic. I could sense my tummy imperceptibly reaching out for his fingers just before they were about to pass over once again. As the circle widened, his pinky dipped under the elastic of my pajama bottoms, on each pass trying to shove in, pushing my bottoms further down my tummy. On the upswing, the back of his thumb began brushing the bottom swell of my breasts. Eventually, my pajama bottoms couldn't stretch down any farther unless the back was pulled down over my ass. Instead, the bottom three fingers of his hand reached to the bottom of my tummy, near my secret patch of hair, on each pass, and his thumb no longer brushed the bottom of my breasts, but lifted each one, hefting its weight and pushing my nipples up, stiff now, and scraping them across the soft flannel of my pajama top.
I hadn't teased him, I said to myself. I hadn't offered myself. What could I do? Don was right there! If I made a fuss, there would be hell to pay. What had Don said -- he was our son, whatever it took? Did he have any idea what it could take? Did he have some inkling of what was going on? Did he condone it? I looked over at Don, could see him immersed in his paper, oblivious to us. Was he pretending? A strange exhilaration flooded through me as Donny's hand dropped from my breast to my lower tummy once more, his thumb digging into my navel as it passed by. God, I was getting so horny. Was I relieved because Don might know? Did I now feel tacit permission to let my son have his way with me?
Though my face was turned down, I only now realized that I'd overcooked Donny's eggs. "Oh, darn. I've ruined your eggs. Don't worry, I'll do another set, I said aloud, to no one in particular." I busied myself readying another set of eggs as if that was the big concern of the moment. My hands worked around Donny's right arm as if it wasn't there. He continued caressing my abdomen without interruption.
Momentarily becoming lucid, I noticed his conversation had turned to quietly reminiscing about adventures with his Dad long ago, in this case, golfing. He was talking about going golfing with Don and being joined by a friend of ours from our old neighborhood. Heather, he was saying. He and Don had happened run into Heather and her daughter and they had made a foursome for a round of golf.
Suddenly, Don sprang up from the table, "I'm off for my shower," he explained, rushing out of the kitchen, ignoring us, glancing at his watch on the way out, apparently not even looking our way. Though Don's move had really startled me, Donny didn't miss a beat, he didn't even flinch. His hand continued its steady, slow, erotic rub over my belly, and across the bottom of my breasts, his thumb now splaying out to flick my nipples as it passed beneath them. Nevertheless, with Don gone, I knew I had to put a stop to this.
"That was the first time," he was saying, "After that, she came alone and I hung around the clubhouse while they golfed. I didn't like golf anyway." His voice trailed off, then picked up on another topic, but I wasn't listening. Don was meeting Heather regularly to play golf?
As we heard Don closing the bathroom door upstairs, Donny's hand slipped lower, outside my pajama bottoms, but all the way down. His fingers grazed over my pubic mound while his other hand slipped around my waist, holding me in place. Numbly, I just stood there, playing little videos in my mind of our interactions with Heather and Jim, looking for clues for suspicious behavior, but I couldn't find any. Donny's hand twisted down and cupped me in his palm, his fingers stretching down between my legs while his left foot slid behind me to push mine out, opening my legs.
"And when Dad was teaching me how to canoe at the lake, she showed up and he let me stay behind to swim while they went out alone. ... Turn the stove off, Mom."
Absently, I reached out to turn the stove off. By the time my hand returned to grip the stove, his fingers had slipped into the crevice lining my pussy, rubbing over my tangled and damp pussy hair below the flannel, then back up, pressing into the moist, narrow canyon he had just opened beneath my pajamas. Stepping closer, he pressed his cock into my hip, rubbing it against the side of my ass. His hand pressed harder against me as it began rubbing up and down in a slow, regular pace, his palm cupping my mound while his fingers dug deeper between my lips, spreading them apart. Switching to memories of summer activities at the lake with our former neighbors, I barely noticed Donny slipping around behind me.
"That was the time I got that bad sunburn, they were gone so long. Remember, Mom?" he whispered into my ear as he pulled his hand harder against me, keeping his fingers firmly between my lips while he wiggled them sideways in my twat. God, it felt so good, such an incredible feeling. I could feel myself soaking the flannel he was pushing into my pussy. I remembered being so angry at Don for letting Donny get so burned. And Don was so flustered, ashamed almost, insisting on being alone with Donny to rub in the salve.
"That was just the first time at the lake, of course" he dropped another bomb.
He bodily repositioned me to the counter next to the stove. Pushed forward until I was leaning over the counter, I could feel his knees pressing the back of my thighs to brace me up. Then I felt him push his pajama covered crotch against my ass, his cock lining up between my cheeks. Then the shoving started. I relaxed, offering no resistance. His shoving against my ass quickly became more urgent, my head moving to and fro on the counter, his breathing loud in my ear, his hand cupping my pussy firmly. Then he thrust hard and held my ass tight against the counter, exhaling a loud groan. I felt a hot, damp sensation on my ass as his come seeped through his pajamas and mine. It must have been a big load.
As he lowered his head to my back, nuzzling and kissing me between my shoulder blades, I felt my own orgasm well up and flood through me. He stepped back and walked away, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
*****
It turned out that Don had suddenly remembered that he had a 10:15 tee time. After his shower, he rushed off with his clubs. I was, given Donny's monologue, quite unsettled about this. Where was he really going? If he was golfing, who with?
When Donny came down from his shower -- this was new, he usually hid in his room all weekend -- he caught me going out the door, just to drop in at the golf club to surprise Dad, I told him. He pleaded with me to wait so he could come too. This was even more surprising. I didn't really want him to come in case there was a confrontation, but he insisted.
On the way, Donny professed to be still hungry and convinced me to stop for lunch on the way at a little marina on the coast. Neither of us, of course, had eaten breakfast. As we sat eating our seafood salads, I tried to find out more about his excursions with his Dad over the years, especially those where he'd been left on his own when they 'ran into' someone. But Donny was very evasive.
When we got back in the car, he let me know there was a special place he liked to go, when his Dad was golfing with his 'friends', just a short hike up the side of a hill across from the golf course. As we neared the turnoff to the golf course, he let me know that he'd never showed it to anyone, that I would be the first. He implored me to go straight there, so we could have the warmest part of the afternoon to sit on the grass and view the ocean and the golf course below. That clinched it. I passed right by the golf course. Somehow, it seemed more important to visit Donny's special place.
We parked on a little side road across the road from the golf course. There was a little trail leading up to a grassy knoll overlooking the course. Donny brought the blanket and the binoculars we kept in the trunk. He spread the blanket in a little hollow. Laying on his stomach he peered over the edge down to the course below. "You can see everything from here," he said, patting the blanket beside him. "Here, take a look," he offered the binoculars to me.
As I focused the binoculars on the golfers below, Donny removed my shoes. "It's very private here. You can see everyone but nobody can see you." He trailed his hand up my calf and the back of my thigh, pushing my sun dress higher on my legs. "It's warm up here. We may as well get a tan while we're here."
"Mmhmmm," I responded, my attention on the people below, trying to find Don and whoever he might be with. Donny's hand slipped between my thighs, gently pulling one and pushing the other, until I moved my feet apart to open my legs. He began moving his hand along the backs of my legs, his fingers trailing between my thighs, teasing the soft skin. He wasn't shy. He moved right up to my panties on the first upward stroke. I guess there was going to be a little price for being introduced to his secret spot. I turned my attention back to the scene below, vaguely aware over the next little while that Donny kept his hand in slow, steady motion.
Was that Don? I focused intently on a group that had just moved up to the farthest tee to our right. As I did, I felt Donny fumbling with the back of my dress. After a few moments of intense observation, I let the glasses drop to the grass in front of me. No. It wasn't him. I noticed that Donny had unzipped my dress and was trying to pull it off my shoulders.
"Don't Donny. Wait until we get home. I'll let you play a little then."
"But no one can see Mom. It's private up here. We'll be here for awhile. We may as well get a tan."
I relented, raising up a little so he could slide my dress down a bit. To my surprise, my bra went down with my dress. "Donny!" I cried.
"What? Mom, you don't want lines."
"Oh, alright," I gave in, but I laid down to hide my bare breasts from view, private spot or not. Donny slid the dress down, bunching it up at my hips.
"There they are," he said, pointing below.
I quickly turned back to the course, bracing myself on my elbows and bringing the glasses to bear. A couple had just joined the foursome. It was Don.
I felt Donny kneeling behind me, between my still parted legs. He leaned forward, pressing against my back, chest bare against my back and legs as well. He'd stripped to his shorts. As I tuned the focus of the glasses, trying to recognize the woman with Don, I felt Donny adjusting his position against my ass. His arms slipped up each side, inside my arms to grasp my breasts. His fingers immediately pinched my nipples. "There they are, Mom," he whispered in my ear as he started tugging them outward. His cock pressed me gently into the blanket.
It was Heather! They were smiling and chatting, laughing together, away from the other four. As the others played on they stayed behind, touching as they chatted.
"Look at that, Mom," Donny whispered in my ear. He squeezed my nipples, pinching them, twisting and tugging them out, thrusting his cock firmly between my cheeks. "They're being very friendly," he said. He humped into me. I couldn't look away. It all looked so innocent, but I knew it wasn't. The bastard!
Donny stood up. Had he excited himself so quickly? It was strangely exciting, I thought, spying on someone. Watching them when they were unaware. I watched Don and Heather tee off and saunter down the fairway after their balls, walking together, holding hands.
I felt Donny return. He opened my legs more for a better view. Since he'd delivered the goods for me, I decided to let him go a little further. His hands began to knead my ass, his thumbs reaching between my legs and up the crack between my cheeks. He massaged continually while I watched Don and Heather. He was running his thumbs up and down my crack, pushing in as far as my panties would let him. At the bottom, he dug his thumbs deep, reaching along my peritoneum to the bottom of my pussy. I realized I was wet which surprised me since I'd been concentrating on the scene below.
