| 
									 
										
											| Title: Rejection Is But A Memory Keywords: mF, teen, mdom, inc, mom, son
 Author: Caesar
 Email: caesar@intimate.net
 
 
 
 Rejection Is But A Memory
 
 by Caesar, copyright 2001-2002
 
 $Revision: 1.2 $ $Date: 2002/04/15 14:07:27 $
 
 When I attempted to open my eyes the room spun so fast I had to close
 them again.
 
 Trying to sit up caused a wave of nausea to threaten my existence and
 I had to lay back down.
 
 Every inch of my body hurt, including my fingers and toe nails!
 
 How could I drink so much last night?
 
 Oh god, make the morning sun go away, it is burning my eyes through my
 eyelids!
 
 Was that tribal drums pulsating through my head?
 
 Oh god!
 
 Reaching with one pain-filled hand, I reached over to the side of the
 bed... empty.  Thank god!  I remember propositioning some guy last
 night... his hands yanking my skirt and  off...!
 
 Think... last night... think!
 
 It was my birthday... my girlfriend, Jenny, making fun of my boring
 life... loud music... and dancing with so many guys...!
 
 I quickly rolled over in the bed and squinted just a brief second to
 confirm... my room, thank god!
 
 When was the last time I got so drunk?  Sixteen... no fifteen when my
 sister, her friend and I drank for the first time.  Did it really feel
 this bad back then?
 
 I'm alone - ironic that I actually am thankful for that.  I should be
 used to being alone... in bed... six years after the divorce.
 
 Think...!
 
 I remember drinks... all sizes and so many colours.  At first they
 tasted horrid and burnt my throat... after the second hour it no
 longer bothered me and I drank even more.
 
 Some guy suck his tongue down my throat and felt up my ass as we
 danced to music that was too loud to even distinguish individual words
 in the lyrics.  And... I let him!  So embarrasing... I remember
 pressing myself... grinding... into that faceless man's leg!
 
 I tried to hear around the pounding in my head, in my ears, to see if
 someone was in the next room - the bathroom.
 
 Nothing.
 
 At least I think there was no one close by.  Perhaps my fear of
 bringing a lost puppy home, in the form of a man, had not happened?
 
 Then my best friend... yes, the same that poured all those drinks down
 my throat... pulling the guy off me... thank god!
 
 Jenny and I danced... and even drunk we were good...  were
 watching us... my friend was rubbing herself against me... kissing
 me... her tongue licking the sweat between my clevage...  what?
 
 Nothing until the back of the taxi... Jenny laughing... telling the
 driver to keep an eye on the back seat... her mouth finding mine
 again... her hand slipping up between my  covered
 thighs... under my skirt and into... oh god!
 
 I remember grabbing her wrist with both my hands and shoving her in
 and out of me... how many fingers had she used?
 
 I truly have no idea.
 
 Her tongue in my mouth the whole time... in and out... the taxi drive
 lasting forever... me praying silently to orgasm, the first in nearly
 a year, the first by another hand in nearly eight years!
 
 How could I have felt such rapture with my own girlfriend... who I had
 known for nearly twenty years?  Believe me when I say such a thing has
 never happened before... never even dreamt of such a thing...!  Well,
 at least not on purpose.
 
 Then I was stumbling through the grass to my home and the front door
 seemed to get further and further away.  I must have fell... more than
 once... laughter behind me... and turning to see Jenny stumble from
 the back door to the front of the taxi... wearing nothing but her
 black bra and black heels... the leering driver's white teeth as he
 watched her slip in next to him.
 
 Then they drove away... leaving me on the cold drew-wet
 grass... feeling so lonely... so horny.
 
 I must not have orgasmed... could not have.  A single orgasm has
 always eased the the pressure for hours... and drunk as I was, I would
 have woken up on the lawn rather than in my own bed!
 
 Minutes... hours... how long did it take me to crawl to the front
 door... up the front of the door... my god...!
 
 Joey!
 
 Him holding me like a baby in his arms... my head on his
 shoulder... his strong long strides causing me to feel nauseas for the
 first time.
 
 I was safe... home.  In the arms of a  who I trusted impeccably to
 take care of me.
 
 But the loneliness could not be solved by being home... the throbbing
 between my legs... the liquid feeling between my thighs dispelling my
 nausea.
 
 Oh my god... I began to kiss Joey's neck.
 
 Small at first... but quickly turning to strong long wet
 licks... sucking... his skin smooth but hard with muscle beneath.
 
 I was whimpering into his neck, even as he carried me into my own
 room... so helpless... so horny... "fuck mommy"...!
 
 The pain in my head seemed to suddenly double with the memory.
 
 Did he...?  God damn... think... remember!
 
 Setting me down on the bed so gently... softly... in total
 control... I loved him so much... Jenny called him my 'Nordic God' and
 he looked so good...!
 
 The fingers of both my hands were locked behind his neck... not
 letting him pull away... his ice blue eyes looking into mine... "use
 me"...!
 
 Then he relented... he must have, because he was too strong for me to
 pull down... my mouth opened and my tongue slipped out to seek
 his... but just before our lips touched he bent his head and slipped
 away.
 
 Moaning in desire... rolling onto my hip and rubbing my thighs
 together... almost begging, "mommy needs you"!
 
 A hard unrelenting hand grabbed one of my tiny ankles... my high heel
 gently pulled off... but he does not do the other... and I begin to
 cry... I had left my shoe in the taxi... while Jenny...!
 
 The humiliation.
 
 Strong hands gently rolling me onto my stomach... fingers fumbling
 with the button to my wool skirt... then the loud sound of the short
 zipper being undone echoing in my memory.
 
 "Stop moving mom!"  He meant my thighs, I was rubbing them together
 like a horny little grasshopper.
 
 His hands rolling me back onto my back... me feeling like a little
 girl about to be fucked by her dream man... his eyes ignoring my
 own... he was embarrassed!
 
 Strong and steady... my sexiest skirt is pulled past the width of my
 hips... down my legs.  He is going to fuck me!
 
 I felt such joy... a man... the only  in the world I could
 trust... the  I had known his entire life and one who has never
 failed me... my man!  My 'Nordic God'!
 
 Now he is staring at me... god I must have looked a mess...  wet from the grass outside, my hair in disarray... my plain white
 panties soaking!
 
 I can't help squirming under that steel gaze... my body physically
 needing his power between my legs.
 
 Again his hands are upon me... he gently lifts each leg to roll my
 soiled  off.  His touch is magical... I ache for him.
 
 When my sweater is pulled off... Joey being so tender, caring, as if I
 were a child... ironic that our positions have reversed this
 way... his eyes looking at my sexist bra, black lace and very
 sheer... my dark nipples hard and pointing for him.
 
 Standing at the foot of the bed... my darling son gazes at
 me... looking at every inch of me... looking a very long time at my
 breasts... at my hard nipples!
 
 How proud a  I was at that moment.
 
 How so very excited... my thighs again rubbing roughly together in
 anticipation... my sex actually feeling like a sea of my lust.
 
 At no other time did I feel so desireable... so much like a
 woman... so horny!
 
 Then... I remember it like it was only moments ago... my beautiful son
 turned and stalked out of my room... his hand hitting the light switch
 on the way out... and I lay in the darkness... stunned.
 
 I cried myself to sleep... feeling humiliated and pitiful.
 
 -*-
 
 For hours I lay, pained in the abuse of alcohol and humiliated in my
 actions with my own child.  And then there was my best friend, less
 innocent perhaps, but still extremely embarrassing and I can not
 imagine the next phone call with her.
 
 And if there had been anyone we knew at that dance hall...!  Yet, that
 was unlikely, as we were at least ten years  than the average
 age.  Two  women looking for a good time... well, Jenny seemed to
 have found it with the taxi driver.  I imagine her morning may even be
 worse than my own - having to face her husband!
 
 The sun had risen past my window pane and thus, allowed a reprieve
 which allowed me to open my eyes - abet, ever so slowly.
 
 My room, just as I had left it yesterday - my birthday.  Outside, a
 beautiful spring morning.
 
 Yet it wasn't a very nice morning at all.
 
 I felt like warm chunky shit and I had attempted the most disgusting
 of acts with my only child.
 
 Is that not enough?
 
 Well, add to that, humiliating myself in public and committing  acts with my best friend.
 
 I'm sure there is more - just that the alcoholic haze hid all other
 memories.  Perhaps I should be thankful?
 
 What was more humiliating; my unsuccessful attempt at seduction with
 my only child or that he had refused me?
 
 -*-
 
 My home was quiet when I finally found the resolve to go down the
 stairs to the kitchen.  Joey must have gone out with friends - thank
 god.
 
 The coffee might have brewed forever and the Tylenol's taken their own
 sweet time - but finally I sat at the breakfast table and drank the
 vile brew while staring at a spot on the tiled floor.  All the while
 wishing that I could turn back the clock one day.
 
 I was a miserable wrench.
 
 -*-
 
 It only hit me when I lay in my darkened bathroom, lit only with a
 candle, and soaking in my tub did I wonder about the night before.
 
 Why did Joey not take what I had offered him?
 
 Trying to look at it coldly; I am still an attractive woman, I was
 very passionate and even begging for him, and I was drunk.  Even in my
 mental haze, I remember those ice blue eyes staring at my covered
 breasts - hungry for the dark points that lay beneath my sheer black
 lace bra.
 
 I know he desires me - and not just in last nights look.  There are
 the looks whenever I bent over, his eyes always drawn to my chest or
 ass, and of course my soiled  I found in his room at least a
 year before.  I tried to ignore it, passing it off to juvenile
 hormones.
 
 Yet it did fuel a little of my own fantasies, as much as I tried to
 deny it, and thus what took alcohol to reveal my rawest desire.  That
 my son found me pleasant enough to lust, was a boost to my ego and
 helped me pass through the time of my darkest loneliness.
 
 Now, the next day, I wished that my 'Nordic God' had taken me the
 night before, used my body to satisfy his own desires - I certainly
 could have used it.  It was a startling revelation, and makes his
 denial all the more painful.
 
 Right then, laying in slowly decreasing agony my sex throbbed
 insistently.  It wanted him still!
 
 -*-
 
 Joey did, finally, come home - late at night, as I lay beneath a quilt
 on the couch watching an  black and white movie.
 
 It is what I do when I'm feeling blue.
 
 The back door was unlocked, opened, and then relocked.  A few minutes
 later, my tall  son stood glowing from the television, staring at
 its contents.
 
 Why did you deny me honey?
 
 Without looking my way, "How are you feeling mom?"
 
 I groaned for effect, "Miserable."
 
 A little smirk, "You were pretty drunk."
 
 "I was completely pickled."
 
 A grunt that was supposed to be a laugh.  A lengthy pause and then the
 question I know he very much wanted to ask, "How much do you remember
 about last night mom?"
 
 "Only small patches of things."  I was not looking at the  any
 longer but at my tall beautiful son.
 
 Finally the question, "Do you remember going to bed last night?"
 
 "I think so... yes."
 
 His head turned and in the dim room we shared a lengthy look and I
 knew that my silence was thunderous.  I should be angry, apologetic,
 something - and we both knew it.
 
 Joey moved to the foot of the couch and lifting both my feet, bundled
 within the quilt, he sat down with my legs from the calf down upon his
 hard strong thighs.  One hand was casually draped over my knees and he
 starred at the  while I starred at him.
 
 I had so many questions but found no voice to ask them.
 
 His denial of me the night before was the most painful of humiliations
 and now that I realized, or accepted, my lust for my own son I felt
 like a homeless wench looking for a empty garbage bin to sleep for the
 night.
 
 He asked, without taking his eyes from the screen, "Would you like me
 to rub your feet?"
 
 Would I!  "Certainly honey."
 
 Fumbling through the quilt, he found my legs and threw the covering up
 above my knees.  And though I was wearing a huge tee-shirt and cotton
 panties, the quilt hid all.  My small feet had small cotton socks
 covering them, to keep warm, but he quickly pulled each off.
 
 I only watched him silently.
 
 His eyes glued to the television he took one weary foot and began to
 slowly rub and squeeze.  It was very amateurish but thrilling to feel
 his big hard hands upon me - trying to please me - and so it felt
 wonderful.  "Hum...that feels great honey."
 
 When he switched, he dropped the completed foot onto his lap and my
 heel hit what could only be a long rod of iron in his jeans.  He felt
 it as well, because his hands paused on the other foot and I was aware
 of him holding his breath.
 
 That lasted only a minute before he resumed rubbing my feet,
 attempting to ignore that which I considered majestic and very
 noticeable.
 
 This was my son - the teenager that stole my soiled  from the
 laundry... and I was not so innocent to imagine he needed them for
 anything less then to fuel his fantasies.  He has looked on me often
 enough with hunger and desire - and last nights open gaze... a shiver
 ran through me at the memory.
 
 My foot, still resting against his crotch, pulled back only a few
 centimetres so that the length of that hard rod was along the in-step
 of my foot.  Again my 'Nordic God' froze and held his breath.  I
 didn't, I began to rub my foot back and forth along that hardness -
 gauging the size, imagining the shape.
 
 I pulled the other foot from his hand and slipped it down to the
 first.  My naked feet moved back and forth, rubbing along both sides
 of his maleness.
 
 I watched him the whole time, his eyes had closed and he seemed to
 have trouble breathing.
 
 I don't care what society says, this was right - he was right for me.
 From my own loins I had produced the perfect  for me - one that I
 can trust as well as love.  The single person in this world I can
 trust enough to give myself totally - and for this girl, that was no
 small feat.
 
 Finally, with me still rubbing him, Joey opened his eyes and looked
 into my own.  "Mom?"
 
 Innocently, but I could not stop the small impish smile upon my lips,
 "Yes honey?"
 
 With difficultly, "What are you doing?"
 
 Without a pause, "Showing you how much I love you."  Silly boy.
 
 "It feels good mom."
 
 I know, his reactions were obvious, and I was thrilled - he desired
 me.  Last night was not my imagination, all these years of thinking
 him  upon me, stealing my panties, all validated.  He had denied
 me last night - I was a mess anyways - but it was time to atone for
 that mistake.  "I would do anything to make you feel good honey."
 
 His eyes widened at that comment and watched me intently as I yanked
 the quilt from my body and lifted my long tee-shirt to my navel.  Even
 in this darkened room, the glowing television was enough to reveal my
 white cotton  and his eyes were glued to that spot.
 
 I can't believe how excited I was getting - never before had the
 heights of my pleasure risen without some help in the form of a
 finger, tongue, or that long forgotten touch, a cock.  If there was
 more light in the room, I'm sure the white cotton between my legs
 would reveal its darkened dampness to my son's intent gaze.
 
 When I said 'anything' I meant it - he could have told me to hump the
 carpet and I would have done it.  His silence surprised me for only a
 brief moment but I reminded myself that my son was still a teenager,
 and sexual aggression from his own  was something I am sure he
 has very little experience.
 
 Taking one foot from him, I set it against his strong shoulder, I
 spread my thighs enough to slip my own hand along the cotton over my
 vagina.  Even the feeling of my own hand, beneath the watchful eyes of
 my 'Nordic God', was a delight.  I rubbed my covered  with long
 slow strokes, in time with my rubbing foot as I watched him watch me.
 
 It was a magical moment - like a fantasy.  A dream.
 
 "Mom?"
 
 "Yes honey?"  I held my breath - here it comes - a command, his
 desires revealed, to pleasure him.  It could be more kinky as this
 near-innocent divorced mother-of-one has ever thought of and I would
 do it - for him.  But what I pray for, what I wanted most, was for him
 to be inside me!  I cared not if it was in my mouth, my  or even
 in my virgin ass.  I just needed to feel him move his cock in and out
 of my body - feel its boiling seed flooding my depths!
 
 Two strong big hands grasped each slim ankle and gently lifted my feet
 from him.  What did he want me to do for him?  Oh god, it was a
 thrilling moment!
 
 He set both feet flat onto the couch between us, my knees bent but
 spread as wide as I could manage so that I could continue to rub
 myself.
 
 Joey then stood up effortlessly, standing there above me looking down
 with the same gaze as the night before.  And like last night, it
 caused a fire to burn in my soul and my body began to ache for him!
 
 Then my darling beautiful god turn and quickly strode from the room.
 
 -*-
 
 Humiliation does not seem to give justice to how I felt after that
 moment.  Strike two.
 
 How could he leave me - I certainly felt his pleasure throbbing
 beneath the soles of my feet.  And then there was that look - and
 though I may be delusional, that look was nothing but raw pure lust.
 
 We never saw each other, though I heard him about our home, for that
 day or the next.  I went to work feeling lower than at any point since
 my divorce, though I had physically recovered from my birthday.
 
 I growled at my secretary and so it quickly got around to leave me
 alone.  Most of my co-workers thinking my foul mood was the effect of
 ageing another year.
 
 The next day, Jenny called.  I could hear her embarrassment even as
 she asked to go to lunch with me.  I took a long deep breath and
 agreed - though what happened between us was embarrassing, it was
 minor compared to what I had done with my son... twice!
 
 "I'm sorry about Saturday night?"  She could barely look at me and a
 malicious part of me was thankful I was not the only one feeling
 miserable.
 
 "You remembered?"
 
 She nodded, her face bright red.  Then she blurted out, as if to get
 it off her soul quickly, "It was all so thrilling... the crowd
 roaring... both of us looking so good... but I never planned...?"
 
 I reached across the table and took her hand gently, the touch
 surprising her.
 
 Her eyes catching my own, and they held tears in them.  "I don't want
 to  our friendship."
 
 "You didn't."  She saw my soft smile and it seemed to calm her
 greatly.  I could not tell her that I had done much worse than she
 had, that night and the next day as well.
 
 It was not verbalized, but we are both adults - we knew there had to
 be something there for what happened between us to transpire.  Hell, I
 had attempted to seduce my son because in my heart I desired him.
 
 My eyes began to well up with tears as well.
 
 Her hand squeezed me, "Oh baby", she often called me 'baby', "I'm so
 sorry!  I never meant to  you."
 
 "Its OK Jenny." I pulled my hand back and used the cloth napkin to dry
 my eyes.  If she only knew what a low class slut I was, why I was
 truly crying she may not be so sympathetic.
 
 Looking around the busy restaurant, "Do you want to skip lunch and
 talk for a while?"
 
 I nodded, my pain still showing on my face, as my best friend lead me
 out.
 
 -*-
 
 "All I did with him was give him a blow job."
 
 I was shocked, but a little thankful that Jenny had not gone 'all the
 way' with the taxi driver.  My hazy mind can not even conjure the
 drivers face or approximate age.
 
 We both started to laugh hysterically.
 
 Finally, "I lost a heel in the back of the cab."
 
 She started to laugh again, "I forgot my panties!"  I laughed along
 with her.
 
 "What about...?"  Her husband of fifteen years.
 
 Her laughing disintegrated, "He was sleeping when I got home... but I
 think he is suspicious that something isn't right."
 
 We were sitting in a secluded grove in the park, holding hands and
 talking together like conspirators.
 
 "I have not been so drunk since I was a kid."
 
 "You were pretty wasted."  Wasn't she?  At least I had alcohol as an
 excuse... the first time at least.
 
 The seconds turned to minutes and the awkwardness grew between us and
 I feared that what happened had indeed harmed our friendship.
 
 Then Jenny leaned over and pressed her lips to my own.  It wasn't a
 kiss so much as a tentative exploration of feelings.  I simply sat
 still and stared at her in surprise.
 
 She whispered, "Don't be angry with me baby."  Her lips again touched
 my own, the top of a slim tongue pressing between to fondle the front
 of my teeth.
 
 Never, not counting my birthday, had she acted so aggressive, so out
 of character.  Yet, I knew what it was like to desire and not be
 reciprocated - to be humiliated in its denial.  I too had attempted a
 second time.
 
 I kissed her back.
 
 She is my best friend after all!  I could not turn her down and
 humiliate her how I had been.
 
 And besides, if my son did not want me, and I had had very little luck
 with  since my divorce, why not accept the one other person that
 loved me and desired me?  Did it really matter that that person was a
 woman?  I found her attractive, and had the odd lustful dream about us
 in the past - it could work.
 
 Our kisses were getting passionate - with mouths wide, tongues
 duelling and saliva running.  I had not been kissed like this, again
 discounting my birthday, since the early years of my failed marriage.
 Her hands were squeezing both of my large round  - Jenny, like
 my son Joey, seemed to enjoy that part of me - possessively.
 
 I allowed my hands to squeeze her thighs up to her hips.  If she had
 been standing I would have felt her tiny round ass - always in
 contrast to my own wide load, and the part of her that I had always
 found her most attractive feature.  Up to this moment, it had only
 been normal innocent female comparisons - yet everything seemed to
 change once we act upon our  desires.
 
 Finally, like teenagers sneaking out to 'make out', we broke apart -
 both panting and wiggling in frustration.  Our eyes locked and she saw
 my submission but not my unfettered desire.
 
 "Remember the hotel down by the airport... the big  brick one?"
 
 Where was she going with this, "Yes?"
 
 "I will be there this Saturday at eight o'clock... waiting for you."
 
 I nodded, understanding.
 
 Reluctantly she added, "If your not there... I will understand."
 
 I nodded again, understanding a little better this time.
 
 At that moment I had no idea what my intentions were - but I knew I
 could do much worse, and in the case of my ex-husband, I had, than
 this loving caring sexy woman.
 
 She leaned in and we shared a long gentle kiss - a kiss of goodbye, a
 kiss as a promise of much more to come.
 
 Time to get back to work, and we both laughed awkwardly as we walked
 through the park back toward downtown.
 
 -*-
 
 The week was odd - between Joey and I attempting to miss each other to
 Jenny doing the same, but for different reasons.
 
 My friend, and possibly my new lover, knew me well enough to give me
 time to stew in my decisions.  Be they to rendezvous with her at the
 hotel, to continue only as a friend or perhaps to part ways.
 
 I had not yet made a choice, but at the very least, I could not simply
 dump her as a friend.
 
 Was I vulnerable after my humiliating attempts at seduction at my own
 son - was that why I was not disgusted at the offer of a  affair?
 
 -*-
 
 I bathed and pampered myself in my private bathroom for nearly two
 hours.  I haven't felt this happy in months... years maybe.
 
 A decision was made.
 
 Someone desired me, needed me - and I was going to them.  It was
 wrong, wanting your child, and so I had to let that desire go - to
 purge it with the abandonment of a new lover.  So, Jenny was the
 medicine to cure me from my incestuous desires.
 
 Since I knew my clothing would not be worn long after arriving at the
 hotel, and I did not want to raise suspicions within my son if I saw
 him on the way out of our home, I only dressed in a skirt and sweater
 I often wore to work.  Conservative and a little matronly.  And the
 undergarments, normal white cotton - the majority of my lingerie
 drawer was exactly the same.
 
 I laughed at times as I prepared, slipping out on a Saturday night to
 meet a secret lover.  Knowing that she would do anything to make me
 happy - did that not sound familiar?
 
 My  itched the whole day, but I ignored it.  Tonight, the first in
 oh so very long, it would get scratched properly!  Jenny knew me
 possibility better than any other person alive, and as such I doubted
 not she knew how to pleasure me as well.
 
 It was a secret rendezvous, that I understood - I was not going to
 ruin Jenny's marriage as that other woman, or is it women, did to my
 own.  We would simply be best friends... and more!
 
 My thoughts soared with the possibilities.
 
 -*-
 
 Joey stood at the foot of the stairs, as if waiting for me.  "Hi mom."
 
 "Honey."  He had a strange look upon his face, but I passed it off to
 this being the first words we had shared since that failed humiliation
 the weekend before.
 
 I strode down the stairs carefully, because of the heels for the most
 part, and I realized my son was checking me out.  His eyes alternating
 between what leg was showing beneath the hem of my skirt and the small
 bouncing my steps produced to my breasts.
 
 A grip took my heart and squeezed, please don't humiliate me again, I
 silently prayed to whatever god could hear.
 
 In only a few seconds I stood before him, our eyes level as I stood on
 the final step and was wearing heels.  Before I could ask him to move,
 he slipped a ribboned box up between us.
 
 A present.  "What on earth?"
 
 "For the prettiest woman I know."
 
 I could not stop the blushing of my cheeks as I took the box.  An
 innocent comment, on his part, of course.
 
 "Open it now mom."
 
 I looked between him and the thin rectangular box.  Joey looking so
 much like he was five years  again, attempting to please me.  It
 took my heart and made me feel guilty at the evil of my desires.
 
 "Lets go into the living room and I'll open it there."
 
 "OK mom."
 
 He stood aside and I walked slowly to the living room, trying to guess
 by shaking the gift what it could possibly be.  I knew he was
 following and I knew his eyes were on my ass - heels always pronounced
 my backside and when walking caused such a movement.
 
 His eyes, though, were something I could handle - I think - as they
 have looked upon me with desire for so very long.  Perhaps not so
 openly as they did since my birthday, but I suppose that his open
 leering is payment for my bad judgement.
 
 Sitting across from me on the floor, I sat on the couch with the
 present on my knees.
 
 What could it be?
 
 I could not be my birthday gift - he giving me that horrid pottery
 bowl and a sweater the morning of my birthday.  It had to be a present
 to make up for our awkward week.  And here I should be giving presents
 to him - spoiling him for my rotten parenting skills.
 
 "Oh honey, whatever is it for?"
 
 "Just open it mom."  He looked pleased with himself, so whatever it
 was, he was very anxious for me to open it.
 
 So I did
 
 The non-descript box opened to reveal several small silky items the
 likes of which I have not seen in years.  At least not in this home.
 
 I held up one, a single thigh-high  - white with a lace
 elastic at the top so they did not need a garter.  My eyes looked at
 the length of it in horror.
 
 Through the sheer silk I could see my son's happiness turn serious as
 he watched my face.
 
 I had to control my surprise, my bewilderment, my questions - to not
 harm my child more than I had done already.  Two failed attempts to
 seduce him, and the  had to be confused.
 
 Right?
 
 I was nearly out the door to meet my new lover, Jenny, for hours of
 sexual bliss.  And I wanted to go - truly I did!
 
 His gift, I told myself over and over, had to be innocent in its
 intent.  I am not sure I could subject myself to another humiliating
 attempt at seducing the only  I could consider loving in a romantic
 way.
 
 Is that why I was going to meet Jenny, because no other  would live
 up to my expectations of my only child?  How warped can one person be?
 
 Look who has finally getting a backbone now?  Me, sitting here with a
 gift that I would have been thrilled to receive a week ago but only
 thinking about escaping to my new lover so that I can protect my son
 from my own desires.
 
 Joey's gift was innocent right?
 
 I mean, sure, he has to be messed up a little - but the gift was still
 from a teenage boy.  Even if he thinks he desires me - he can not have
 been thinking with his head... I mean his brain, I am sure this gift
 is straight from his head!
 
 "Uh... thanks honey."
 
 He seemed eager, "Do you like it mom?"
 
 I nodded and swallowed thickly, "Its lovely."  It was.  I haven't
 owned or worn such finery since my wedding day.  The only pair of
 stockings I had owned up till last weekend were rather  and not
 nearly as fine as the ones my son gave me.
 
 "Well... put it on mom!"
 
 My heart skipped a beat.
 
 My god!
 
 I had to get out of there, to get to the hotel and to Jenny - or god
 help me... I may succumb to the growing desire that was building
 within me.  "I have to go honey."
 
 Slipping the  back into the box, I closed the lid hoping to
 escape my own desires.  Standing up, with Joey following directly
 behind, I dropped the box onto the couch and quickly moved to leave.
 
 My heart was thumping so strong that I'm sure it reverberated my
 chest.
 
 Just as I reached the door to the garage Joey came up behind me and
 pressed an arm past my ear to hold the door closed.  In my ear he
 softly ordered, "Go get the box and go up to your room mom, and put my
 gift on."
 
 Joey's voice was alien - strong and commanding - never having talked
 to me in such a way before.
 
 His hand slipped between us and I felt him grasp one of my ass cheeks
 through my clothing - it caused me to squeal in surprise but I never
 turned from the door.
 
 What surprised me more was the confidence and dominance in his voice -
 he knew that I needed him, having begged like a common tramp the week
 before, and now he was using my desire against me.
 
 Why had he denied me twice last weekend?  The first time, maybe
 because I was a drunk sweaty mess.  But the second, clean if but a
 little under the weather from being hung over?
 
 Two hands inched my skirt up to my waist.  Still I said nothing, my
 breathing coming quicker and my eyes closed as if to hide from the
 reality of what was going on, as my son grasped the elastic leg holes
 of my cotton pantie and yanked upward - effectively giving me a
 wedgie.  I squealed in surprise and other than a quick jerk onto my
 toes, stood silent.
 
 Now both his large strong hands groped me roughly, yanking, squeezing
 and rubbing my soft ass.  A  has not touched the skin of my bottom
 in so long, it felt like I was a teenager again being naughty in my
 parents house.
 
 Joey leaned forward and whispered, "Mother?"
 
 My voice was not very controlled and my response came out more of a
 squeak, "Yes?"
 
 "Did you really mean it when you said you would 'do anything' to make
 me feel good?"
 
 My heart was thumping violently but my breath had stopped working.
 Did I mean what I said?
 
 In a fantasy world where there was no repercussions for such a
 relationship - yes I meant it.  Was I true to myself when I said my
 'Nordic God' was the only  for me - one that I would do anything to
 pleasure?
 
 "Yes."  The answer came out of my mouth before I had a chance to
 actually consider all the ramifications of such an admission.
 
 He pawed my bottom for some time before his hands slid up to my waist,
 beneath my skirt and, god help me, to cup my big round breasts.  After
 a few squeezes he moved his hand back down until his thumb and
 forefinger, on each hand, pinched each nipple through my thin cotton
 bra.
 
 Joey squeezed harder and harder, slowly increasing the pressure until
 I was gasping in pain and my knees seemed ready to fail me.  No one
 had  me before, especially in such a sexual way.
 
 "Will you go put on your gift mom?"
 
 Without a pause I was able to respond through the pain, "Yes."
 
 He released my nipples and gently stroked them as a tongue licked my
 ear.
 
 I was his and we both knew it - his instant ability to dominant me
 came as a surprise both from my reaction and especially from his new
 attitude.
 
 My breathing was short with quick pants and I knew the crotch of my
 panties must be soaked.  No one, and I mean no one else in this world
 could have treated me like this and gotten such a reaction.  I would
 do anything for my 'Nordic God', allow him any desire of me.
 
 Suddenly, just as I was starting to moan from the touch of his hands
 upon my covered breasts, his hands pulled from my body and he stepped
 back.  "Turn around mom."
 
 Attempting to regain control of my breathing, I slowly turned and
 looked down at his feet, facing my son as instructed.  I considered
 lifting my eyes to the bulge half ways from his eyes to his feet - but
 lacked the will to risk Joey catching me.
 
 "Hold your skirt up to your waist mom."  Without needing to look, I
 again bundled it about my waist and held it in two hands.  "Go get the
 present I gave you, go to your room and come back to the living room
 after you put on."  He looked down at his watch, "You have three
 minutes."
 
 A few seconds of silence before he barked in a surprisingly loud
 voice, "Go!"
 
 After jumping at the surprise of his command, I effectively ran as
 fast as my heels would allow me on the slippery hardwood floor.
 
 -*-
 
 I felt foolish but my heart thumped as if so very excited - as I
 walked slowly, and as quietly as I could, into the living room.  Upon
 silk encased feet, I walked around to stand before my son - whom
 simply watched me calmly.
 
 My hands were shaking uncontrollably and I grasped my thighs
 frequently in a unproductive attempt to still them.
 
 His ice blue eyes looked coldly at me - appraising every inch of my
 body as if I were a new  sports car.  I felt like a rusted  jalopy if anything.
 
 Joey's present had to be expensive and certainly lovely, but it was
 created for a younger and thinner woman.  I felt extremely foolish,
 humiliated even, to stand practically naked before the one  I cared
 about while he opened viewed my ageing body in this ridicules
 lingerie!
 
 The silence was torture - and I felt my thighs and knees start to
 quiver, as if cold, smilier to my hands.  Could he not just laugh at
 me and get it over with, to admit failure in having me pose in such a
 obscene outfit.
 
 I desired Joey but I had a real fear of humiliating myself for the
 third time - feeling like a coward for not wanting to even attempt
 another seduction.
 
 Well, my 'Nordic God' may be doing the work for me.
 
 "Closer mom."  A command and not a request - my feet unconsciously
 stepped twice toward the couch.
 
 His large strong hand reached out and grasped my outer thigh just
 above the knee, feeling silk and my warm smooth soft skin beneath.
 Joey's eyes followed his hand.
 
 This was foolish, a grown woman should not be posing in underwear
 created for a  half her age - before her own son even!
 
 Then I remembered the passion and desire that had filled me only days
 before, as I looked upon my own son as a yin to my yang.  How humble
 to realize that there is a power that can control you - and it took me
 getting drunk to discover the desire for my own child.  Then the
 seduction, and another - both denied.  Humiliation and horror at my
 actions, willing to do anything to remove my stupidity from my son's
 memory.
 
 I was wrong though, that his denial had meant my desire was rejected!
 Why else would he dominant me just on the eve of my consummating my
 lesbian affair with Jenny - but to take what was earlier offered?
 
 My thoughts returned to the present when I felt a thumb and forefinger
 tweaking one nipple - causing it to tighten and enlarge very quickly.
 
 Joey was smirking possessively, comparing my two nipples, one hard the
 other soft, through the sheer silk of the teddy.  He looked so much
 like a teenager with a new toy while I simply felt my venerable age.
 
 That he found pleasure with this ageing woman puzzled and excited me.
 As the expected laughter did not materialize - nor did his interest
 wain.
 
 No longer did I have alcohol in my system, or feeling hung over and
 needful of strong arms to hold me - in fact there was nothing to
 hinder my thoughts or fuel my senses - other than reality.
 
 I felt the edge of that mountain of desire I had felt a week before -
 it was slowly growing within me, contrary to my dispassionate
 thoughts.  Inward I watched it grow like a living thing, fearing and
 loving it at the same time.
 
 Joey was pulling the white lace edge of the bikini panties, completely
 sheer mind you, to the side, exposing my  bush for his eyes.
 
 Though I had attempted two seductions in the last days, seeing my most
 private area fully exposed felt strange and wonderful.  It had to be
 the first time, that I remember, that Joey has seen me naked.  Only a
 few years before, I suspected he was trying to find a way to see me
 naked in my private bathroom - but I had decided the effort was
 impossible and he was left with looking up my dress while at the
 table.
 
 My son leaned forward and squinted directly at my pussy.  What?  Was
 it a wrinkled  prune compared to the teen  that I knew drooled
 over my  boy.
 
 Then he leaned the last few centimetres and, god help me, kissed me
 softly and with endearing love, directly upon my barely protruding
 clitoris.
 
 Well, it was enough to thrill me as I had never been thrilled ever
 before.  At that second, because of that single gentle action, all my
 desire and passion welled up and filled me to capacity - I would do
 anything for my son!
 
 He leaned back and lifted his eyes to my own, we shared a long look as
 his strong hands held my soft hips and guided me down toward him.  It
 was timely as it felt as if my quivering knees were about to give out!
 
 I straddled my sons hard thighs and felt his hands slide behind me to
 grasp my bare ass beneath my bikini pantie.  Our faces were nearly
 touching but we dare not blink as we stared deeply in the soul of the
 other.  In fact I was barely breathing but my heart was pounding so
 fast that it felt as if it would jump out of my chest.
 
 Then, finally, his instruction, "Kiss me mom."
 
 God yes!
 
 I closed my eyes, perhaps to ignore my parental common-sense, leaned
 forward and kissed my son with all the passion and love that I could
 muster.  In retrospect, it had to be the best kiss I have ever given
 anyone.
 
 It lasted nearly ten minutes.
 
 When I leaned back I realized the spaghetti straps of the teddy had
 been pushed from my shoulders so that the garment fell below my chest
 - my large heaving  were fully exposed to my son's lust filled
 eyes.
 
 My nipples were so hard, they hurt!
 
 Joey leaned down and took one hard thrusting nipple between his moist
 lips and  upon me firmly.  I felt my brown teat draw deep down
 into his throat as a wave of pleasure ran directly from my nipple down
 between my legs.  Both my hands came up and cupped his messy  hair, lovingly caressed his head as he suckled upon me.
 
 As a child he had  nourishment from my body and a part of me
 wished I still had milk to give to my son.  It was a maternal need,
 that quickly disappeared.
 
 His lips moved to my other  and the pleasure was duplicated.
 
 I would swear my  have never given me such a response as at
 this moment, with my own child!
 
 I would do anything for this  man!  I had been right, he was the
 only one for me.  No  affair could equal the passion in a
 single kiss with Joey.  I could only love one person in this world,
 submit myself totally and for any purpose to that person.
 
 My son lifted his lips from my saliva covered nipple and looked up at
 me, with our mingled saliva coating his chin, "Take it out mom."  He
 sounded anxious... the fever of our passion was consuming him as well.
 
 I would do anything but what did he want me to take out?
 
 Joey sat with his back onto the couch, his eyes looking into my own,
 waiting.  A hand came up and grasped one wet nipple between thumb and
 forefinger and squeezed.
 
 Hot pain rushed from my breast, but strangely did not overwhelm my
 pleasure, and I gasped out, "...what...?"  His hand dropped from my
 pained breast.
 
 "What are you mom?"
 
 My mind was a cloud of pleasure and pain, love and passion - I had no
 idea what he was asking.  As a response I shook my head while my mouth
 moved without a sound coming out.  Fear welled up within me as I saw
 this encounter turning into a disaster, a third strike.
 
 He gave me another chance, "What are you willing do do mom?"
 
 I knew this - having felt the joy of it overwhelm my soul in the last
 minutes.  Hoarsely, as if talking in a foreign language, "Anything."
 
 Smirking again, and there was no doubt in his eyes that I was his.  My
 son owned me body and soul - and I accepted this fact, found pleasure
 in it actually.
 
 "Take my cock out."  How ridicules could I feel, what else could I
 take out?  Blood rushed to my face in anticipation and embarrassment.
 
 I pushed myself back to sit upon the edge of my son's knees and
 reached for his belt.  My eyes had naturally looked down and I saw the
 wet denim over the  zipper and crotch of my son's jeans and I
 felt surprise in knowing that I was witnessing an effect of my
 excitement.  The quantity of which startled me.  Something else
 stalled me, the obvious bulge of my son beneath his pants.
 
 Each proof that this 'Nordic God' found me exciting only heightened my
 own pleasure.  A part of me was in heaven.  I found pleasure in his,
 we were linked in so many ways.  Proof, yet again, that we were made
 only for each other.
 
 The belt was quickly unbuckled and pressed to the side, then I fumbled
 with the zipper and button of the pants.  Joey made no move to help,
 but only watched with amusement on his face - perhaps from my rushed
 fumbling?
 
 I truly wanted to take him out, as he had originally asked.  I wanted
 to worship his penis, his cock I corrected myself, to kneel to his
 phallus alter.
 
 As soon as the zipper was pushed down, his  hard cock popped out
 of his jeans.  It took me by surprise.  A fat woman-pleasuring-cock
 that I could not have sculptured to be more perfect.  The head,
 circumcised so many years before looked nothing like that naked
 toddler that I had last seen naked.  Joey had a cock to match my
 desire - and it reinforced my conviction that we were made for each
 other.
 
 My whole body was quivering violently now - uncontrollably reacting to
 the sexual adrenaline rushing through my veins.
 
 I awaited the next command, praying for the instruction to properly
 worship this god.
 
 "Put it in mom."  His voice actually squeaked, and gone was the sure
 look within his eyes.  We were simpatico and built for this moment.
 
 Joey held the edge of my pantie to the side, against my thigh, as I
 rose up on my knees and moved forward.  His eyes followed the movement
 of my  while I watched his beautiful face.
 
 There... the head of that fat cock brushed against my boiling cunt...!
 
 Taking a deep breath, holding it in anticipation, I sunk down and
 found myself filled with man-meat to the extent that I was stretched
 to a painful width.  A squeal of raw pleasure rose from me in volume
 equal to the depth of my son.
 
 Taking each centimetre slower, I eventually found myself invaded to
 the root.  The pleasure-pain of his large cock was new to me, not
 imagined but certainly the most exciting event of my life.
 
 Never has a  been so deep within me, forcing me widely apart of his
 pleasure.
 
 God help me, I loved it!
 
 Joey just watched me with wide ice blue eyes, taking it all in.  He
 was my emperor and I his slave.  It was a role I had never imagined
 but I was drunk with passion and my true heart was exposed.
 
 Then I remembered his earlier question and I blurted out my late
 answer, "I am your slave honey!"
 
 His eyes quickly lifted to my own and he studied me briefly,
 possessively.  I could get lost in such a gaze!  "I know mom."
 
 Yes!
 
 With the invasion of my body, gone was the humiliation of my past
 failures at seducing this  man.  Nothing else between us, before
 that moment, mattered.  Our life, from now on was to be re-sculptured,
 molded to the wishes of my one true love, my son Joey.
 --
 
 
 |    |