Page 03


What to do? I couldn't get just get up and leave. That might ruin everything I'd worked for so far. Tommy was obviously interested in me. On second thought, maybe my displays weren't a mistake but rather a roaring success. He wasn't likely to do anything improper with the door open. Given his father was still up, I was relatively safe. What I needed to do was top up my week of displays and leave at the height of their effect.

So I engaged Tommy in a meaningless recounting of my day, a one-sided conversation that placed little onus on him to say anything but gave him an excuse to continue looking at me, especially since I avoided eye contact. I took frequent sips of my hot chocolate, leaning over in exaggerated fashion to retrieve my mug and put it back, each time, slowly working the belt of my robe loose. By the time I laid back on his bed, feigning weariness, the belt was so loose that it barely held together at my waist, falling off to the side of each thigh and gapping significantly down my front. I closed my eyes but kept talking, knowing full well Tommy was helping himself to lurid views of my exposed thighs and glimpses through the robe to my breasts underneath, covered only by the thin nightgown. The deep neckline, I knew, would provide a tantalizing view of the sides of my bare breasts and, for no apparent reason, I took deep breaths.

I lifted my heavily lidded eyes sufficiently to provide a bleary view of my son sitting on the edge of his chair. He was so intent on looking at my thighs and peeking under my robe that he didn't notice me watching; at least, he didn't look at my face. Tommy's own robe had fallen open. He was only wearing a pair of those black boxers but, things being the way they were, I couldn't tell if he was hard even though I could see past the hand dangling over his thigh. While I watched, he tapped his fingertip on his shorts and I knew then that was right where his little thingy was. He breathed excitedly but tried to keep it under control. He was staring at my upper thighs so intently that I realized the robe had parted enough for my panties to show. It was time to leave.

I cleared my throat and actually stated I should get up before opening my eyes to give him a chance to lean back and cover up. I swung up to a sitting position, stood up, and bent down to give him a kiss. I hadn't meant for my robe to fall completely open but when I realized it had, I let the kiss linger and then gave him another one, allowing him to stare at my freely hanging breasts just inches in front of his face. There, that should do it. I left, wishing him sweet dreams, a delicate touch I smiled at all the way downstairs.
*****​

Tommy was dead to the wind when I crept into his room hours later, just like his father. I didn't waste much time being cautious. I simply pulled back the covers. In the light from the hallway, I caressed his upper legs and stomach for several minutes, whispering his name and making admiring comments about his physique.

"You're so strong, Tommy," I whispered in the sexiest voice I could muster. I knew it would sound odd, hearing those words in my voice, but I was counting on it having a devastating effect in his dream.

"Such powerful arms and legs, a real man," I purred, brushing my fingers over the front of his boxers, teasing the large lump there until I found the little bump that demarcated the location of his tiny cock.

"Please, let me touch it." I pressed my palm down and twisted it over the knob. "Will you let me touch it?" I asked.

I kept this up until I heard Tommy breathing harder.

"Let me take it out," I begged, starting to tug on the waistband of his boxers.

"Oh," I cried in an awed, feminine whisper. "It's so beautiful."

I circled my fingers around its head and rubbed the tip with the index finger of my other hand. "What a gorgeous cock," I cooed, emphasizing the final word.

Tommy's hips moved slightly, pushing his little nubbin up against my teasing fingers. I encouraged this humping, letting my fingers slide down to tickle and squeeze his big balls, mentally lashing myself for recognizing how pleasing it was to fondle such a nice set. My fingers alternated between teasingly tickling and gently squeezing his little cock. I knew he was close because he was lifting his ass right off the bed now trying to hump my hands. I delivered several hot breaths onto the tip of his cock.

"Do me," I whispered. "Do Mommy."

That was it. Tommy let loose just as I leaned down to deliver another set of hot puffs. I had come prepared this time with a facecloth in a bowl of warm water to use for catching his spunky effluent but he caught me by surprise again and I had to use the cloth to clean up myself before applying it my son's genitals. I was again amazed by how much sperm he produced and, I have to admit, I spent more time than was probably absolutely necessary cleaning his balls. I even rationalized my behavior out loud.

"Let's make sure you're extra clean," I whispered as I fondled, er, cleaned his nuts.
*****​

Every night for the rest of that week was a repeat of that evening. I brought hot chocolate up to Tommy's room, drinking it and talking while he watched me, lying back on the bed when I was done and continuing my monologue with eyes clothes and loose robe in disarray. By the end of the week, I was leaving the belt undone even at the start and lying on Tommy's bed with the robe wide open, exposing my body clad by increasingly more revealing nightgowns.

I have to hand it to my son. Even in the face of such a display, he never once tried to touch me, not even when I lingered in front of him, extracting multiple kisses goodnight with my breasts dangling in front of his face. I knew that must have been a huge temptation because toward the end of the week, my nightgowns were very revealing: one was open to the waist except for a single clasp securing it halfway to my neck.

I had given up chastising myself for becoming excited, my nipples advertising the effect these sessions were starting to have on me. They were supposed to get my son excited but then every action has an equal reaction, doesn't it? I excused myself by saying it was just how the world worked, then rationalized how it was all for the better because seeing my excited breasts would let Tommy know that women liked being around him.

And he did see. I made sure of that. On the last night of the week, while closing my robe, I found that the clasp had come open and my nightgown was parted to my waist. I bent over in the hallway and confirmed what I had feared: my breasts tumbled out, naked, for the world to see, or, to be more accurate, for Tommy to see. I giggled, imagining his surprise and joy that I had extracted at least a dozen kisses that night.

That night, I fondled Tommy's balls for a very long time before teasing his little cock into eruption. I goaded him into lifting his hips almost a foot off the bed, straining to reach my devilish fingers, egging him on with soft puffs of hot air from my whispering mouth. I was shocked when his hands flew up to capture my head, pulling my face down onto his lump, my mouth temporarily opening to encompass his tiny cock.

I frantically extracted myself, panicked, until I realized he was still sleeping. Then, exultation filled me as I understood just how excited I had made him. I examined him in the dark, searching for signs of growth but couldn't find any. Disappointed, I continued my caresses until he was once more straining up to reach me. This time, without the aid of his sleeping hands, I lowered my face and took him into my mouth.

Tommy groaned loudly but I wasn't worried. I knew he was asleep, and so was his father, but I made a mental note to close Tommy's door in future. I sucked, and sucked and sucked. Oh, yes, there was no doubt about it, my boy loved this much more than my fingers. I cupped and squeezed his balls and swirled my tongue all around his little cock.

I was surprised how long it took him to come. It was almost as if he was trying not to so he could prolong the sensations my mouth delivered. When he finally came, I gagged trying to swallow it all, gulping several times in quick succession.

The next night was Saturday and I intended to give it a break to give my husband his weekly reward. However, after making an issue of what was coming, Jim fell into a deep sleep. I had forgotten not to put the sleeping powder in his hot chocolate. I twisted and turned in bed but couldn't get to sleep. Shortly after midnight, much earlier than usual, I made the trip to Tommy's room.

I didn't wait. I pulled back the covers, yanked his shorts down, and started sucking. I loved sucking his little cock. Small it was, but pretty too. I licked and licked, spitting on it to keep it well lubricated, and sucked it inside like my favorite lollipop. I twisted my head down to lick and munch on his balls before returning to savor his cock. After swallowing that night's come, I lingered, whispering sweet nothings to my blissfully unaware son.

I wished he could know how much I loved him. How would he look if he could see my head lovingly twisting this way and that, rotating around the head of his little cock. Maybe he wouldn't be so unhappy if he could see how pleased it made me. I started sucking him again. Even after another mouthful of his come, I was reluctant to leave.

The next week, I sucked Tommy at least two times every night and sometimes three or four. I got in the habit of taking my robe off and lying on his bed, eyes closed, in just my nightgown. It was obvious that I wore nothing underneath, especially that I wasn't wearing a bra because my stiff nipples poked noticeably through the thin cotton even from my vantage point. And down below, well, I could feel my mound pulsing and had to, several times, turn sideways for a moment to squeeze my legs together.

Halfway through the week, I made a startling discovery. Tommy's cock reached deeper into my mouth. I had thought it had been more filling the night before but tossed it off as wishful thinking. But there was no mistaking it now. I examined him closely, holding the head up and peering from the side. I put my fingers against the shaft. Definitely longer, by half an inch.

Yay! It was working. I hadn't really believed it but there it was.

I sucked him really well that night, and the next, and the next. Jim didn't get any that Saturday either.

Unbelievably, Tommy's cock grew two inches the next two weeks. His mood was incredibly up the whole week too, no pun intended. He was boisterous and happy and he and his father got along famously.

At dinner one night, he blurted out, "I'm going to try for a scholarship" then filled his mouth with potato and beamed at us.

Jim took over the conversation, peppering Tommy with questions and then living future scenarios. He was ecstatic.

At first I was similarly elated but then was strangely sad. Yes, my efforts had worked, and wonderfully so. But what now? There was no reason to continue with my nightly displays and illicit sexual visits. It was done and I couldn't continue, at least, not for my son's sake. Tommy's penis had now grown to maybe four and a half inches, actually closer to five. He was still on the small side but almost as big as his father. My task was done.
*****​

I didn't visit Tommy's room that night, and the next night I didn't make hot chocolate, though I felt a desperate desire to. It was almost like kicking a drug habit. Tommy had gone upstairs after dinner, as usual, and I found myself wandering that way several times. The last time, I steered myself into my own room and got ready for bed even thoug though it was far too early.

Returning downstairs, I found myself in the kitchen, making hot chocolate. Automatically, I crushed two sleeping pills and almost put the powder into a mug before I caught myself. I geve myself a little slap on the wrist and put some powder into one and threw the rest away. I'll use it myself, I thought, so I could sleep. However, I gave the mug to Jim instead. He seemed to be missing his last few Saturdays and I didn't feel like making up for them, not tonight.

I found myself going to Tommy's room, tray in hand, as usual. And why not? It was a ritual now and Tommy would wonder why I didn't come if I stayed away. And then what would he think, that I had been flaunting my body in front of him just to get him to apply for a scholarship? What else would he think if I stopped coming the very next night after he announced his intention? Of course, he couldn't know that I had stopped visiting him late at night — how would he know? — but the hot chocolate and conversation, that was a different story. I convinced myself I had to keep visiting his room and displaying my wares, if only to gradually become more and more respectable until he no longer looked forward to my coming.

And so I went to Tommy's room. I found, however, that I was no less provocative. If anything, I was even more wanton, stretching languidly before his eyes, twisting my body to emphasize the thrust of my breasts, lifting my knees up so my nightgown could slide down to my hips, baring my thighs and exposing my panties. I was a true Jezebel.

When I left, holding my robe over my arm, nipples stabbing through my nightgown in unashamed bliss, I didn't recriminate myself and felt no remorse. So what if Tommy's applying for a scholarship? Does he not enjoy his time with his mother? Who was to say that a mother and her son couldn't spend an hour or so together, alone, feeling good about themselves? Who would ever know, and who else looked at me with such awe and made me feel this way? Nobody, that's who. I was defiant.

And so, I wasn't surprised later that night when my footsteps pulled me into Tommy's room, right to his bed, and my hands peeled back the covers. One last time, I thought, to say goodbye properly.

Subconsciously, Tommy must have had the same sentiment for he lay before me, naked, and already hard. See, his body has grown dependent on me. I can't cut him off cold turkey, just like that. I need to let him down slowly, perhaps over the next few days. That's right, I'll wean him off over the next week — or so.

I lowered my head and sucked him into my mouth. Mmmmm, he was bigger than even two nights ago, the same size as his father, or at least as far as I remembered since it had been so long since I'd gone down on Jim. I didn't normally like sucking cock, but this was different. I relished sucking my son and, now that my mouth was on him, I didn't know if I really could go without the feel of its head rubbing against the roof of my mouth, bulging my cheeks out, and forcing me to produce more saliva. I drew my head back and gobbed on his prick.

"There you go," I whispered, managing to make even that short phrase sound sexy.

Tommy's hands found the back of my head and pulled my head onto his gooey cock. He moaned as my head slipped down his shaft, obviously a whole new sensation for him this past two week, one he obviously didn't want to give up. His hips pushed up, thrusting his cock into the back of my mouth, an action that only weeks ago had been an unthinkable achievement for him. A crowning achievement, his and mine. I pulled my head up, keeping my lips clamped firmly on his nascent shaft, relishing its almost thick firmness, allowing my withdrawing mouth to make loud sucking sounds. Drawing off with a wet pop, I drooled onto the tip.

"I love your cock, Tommy," I whispered, and I meant every word of it.

His hands were already pressing down on the back of my head. He wants it so badly, I thought, how can I deny him? I stopped resisting and let him push my head down, filling my mouth, bulging my cheeks out. I wiggled my face, drawing another moan and then another when I bit down on his root, shaking my head as I slowly withdrew up to his tip, and off, drooling all over its tingling, purple head.

"Love it, love your cock," I gasped, my tongue already licking the underside, scooping up saliva and redepositing it on the top, folding my lips over the head for a quick swirl and squeeze, then off again, breathing hotly over it to keep it begging for my mouth.

"Oh, Mom," Tommy groaned, pushing up, startling me and getting the head back into my mouth.

Was he awake? I yanked my head away, tossing his hands aside and stared at my son. No. He seemed to be still asleep. Dreaming, he must be dreaming. Elation soared through me. He was dreaming of me, that's why he called my name. It wasn't some anonymous woman that had made him grow. It was me, his mother. I was the woman he wanted, I was the one he dreamed of.

I lowered my head, hovering over his cock, my fingers tickling his balls, and blew hot mother breath all over his big cockhead.

"Say please," I whispered, my tongue flicking out to tease the underside of his glans.

Tommy moaned.

"Say please, Mommy," I urged, directing his dream, drooling my hot saliva onto his cock.

"Please, Mommy."

I wasn't bothered when he spoke in his sleep. I lowered my head, squeezing my lips tight over his shaft and sucking as I forced his cock into my mouth but motherly urges stopped me from teasing him further. I started bobbing my head up and down in a steady, twisting to and fro, only pulling off only briefly to soak his cock with fresh saliva before dropping down to his root. I pulled everything I could out of him, sucking hard when the blasts of his semen began to diminish. I want all of it, my mind screamed, everything. I didn't stop sucking until Tommy was quiet, his moans finally sinking into the night.
*****​

I was back again the next night. And the next. I was hooked, hooked on my son's cock. I needed it, needed the feel of it in my mouth, needed to whisper my love to him, needed to feel his hot juice blasting down my throat.

I sucked him twice and then, I did the unimaginable. Instead of pulling up his covers I suddenly pulled up my nightgown, straddled his thighs, and laid myself down over his body, lining my bare pussy up over his soft cock, stretched up toward his tummy. I hovered over him for a moment, looking down at that incredibly exciting sight, my motherly pussy yearning above his sated cock. Talk about Oedipal.

You'd think I would have come to my senses. You'd think I would have torn myself away from him. But I didn't. I lowered myself until I felt his soft cock press against my mound, shifted slightly to make it fit into my soaking wet slit, and let my full weight fall upon him.

"Oh my son, my son," I whispered. "Let me hug you, just for a minute."

I rubbed my breasts against his chest, reaching in to pull the nightgown apart so I could get my bare, hard nipples on him, ripping it in the process. I squeezed my pussy over his cock which was quickly getting hard again. Oh, God. I rubbed it, humping him.

"I want to fuck you," I rasped. "God forgive me, I do, I really do."

I moaned and Tommy moaned too, automatically pushing up against me even in his sleep. I wondered if he was dreaming of fucking a woman, his woman, me.

"Ohhhhhh, my God," I cried aloud, humping his cock, rubbing myself furiously over its length.

I pushed my arms under him and wrapped them up around his shoulders, shoving my nipples all over his chest.

"Fuck me, fuck me," I moaned.

His hands were on my ass. I bucked harder. If only we could do this for real. Oh God. I was lost. I would never be able to stop. Never.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh God, unnnnnnghhhh Jesus, ohhhhhh ohhhh ohhh ohh oh."

I collapsed on Tommy, hardly able to breathe. Several minutes later, almost under control, I pushed myself up and looked down at my now quietly sleeping son.​
Next page: Page 04
Previous page: Page 02