I came back to life thanks to my son. It was quite inadvertent and I didn't even know I was dead. I was a thirty seven year old widow who hadn't had sex in four years; I had even stopped masturbating. I was a mess.
When I was younger, I was always involved with the boys. My 'attractors', as in the song, stood 'way up firm and high'. My makeup was always perfect and my tight skirts left little to the imagination. After marrying too young, my husband's heart betrayed us both when he was forty. I no longer cared what I looked like. I gained twenty pounds, threw away my lipstick, and wore the same two pairs of jeans and four flannel shirts for years.
I was resuscitated by a phone call. It wasn't to me or from me. I was in the den and was about to call my sister Beth. My son Danny was on the phone so much that I usually checked to see if it was free by pressing the speakerphone button; I got an earful. He was talking to Karen, a girl he was going to the prom with. The first words I heard were "…now put that wet finger on your slippery little button."
What was I listening to? It couldn't be my baby Danny whom I was sure was a virgin, the boy that I was still waiting to have the 'sex talk' with? As he continued talking I realized I was a little too late. He said, "Make believe it's my tongue making circles all around it…slowly…one way and then the other…is your pussy getting wet the way it does for me little girl?"
The sound of her answer sent an electric spark through my belly. "Oh yes Dan…my pussy's all wet for you…why aren't you here with your big thing…so I can kiss you and you can touch me all over…?" My hand went almost involuntarily between my legs.
"Tomorrow little girl…Scott's having a party…and you're going to be there…upstairs…with your legs spread…and then you'll have it…deep in your pussy…" As my son described what he was going to do to his girlfriend, I put my hand in my panties and slid a finger over my moist clit. As the disturbing image of my son entering the pussy of a woman who could only be me focused, I came with a shudder. I pressed the speakerphone off and went blank until the cooling stickiness in my panties reminded me of what had just happened. I felt confused but with a sexual energy I hadn't felt in years. It felt so good to be turned on again even if it was my son that had turned me on – then I looked in the mirror.
I was appalled. I determined to do something about what I saw. It was four months of hell, four days a week in the gym after work. I lost the extra pounds and found a not bad looking woman looking back at me who was ready to resume an intimate relationship. Throughout my 'ordeal', Danny was an inspiration. One discouraging day he said, "Mom, you're doing great. I would love to have a girl who looks that hot; you look good enough to eat." I'm sure he didn't mean it in a sexual way but still; he was too much of an inspiration.
I was inspired by the phone call that still played in my head. I was inspired by the handsome strong body Dan had grown in to. I was inspired by thoughts of him doing to me what he said he would do to Karen. I had fought the thoughts for weeks and months: rationalizing why I had them, telling myself about their fantasticality and immorality. I dismissed them time and again only to have them return…unbidden…urgent…searing my insides. I sent them away with anger, frustration, and finally with masturbating fingers. They returned to mock me when I looked at his face or when he hugged me hello.
I tried to talk to Beth but the words wouldn't come out. How does a woman say to her sister, "I want to sleep with my son?" I started becoming someone I didn't like; I listened in on his conversations. I did something that still embarrasses me when I think about it; I went into Danny's bedroom in the middle of the night. I planned to say I heard a noise or something like that if he awoke. He was lying almost on his side. It was a hot night and he was nude. I saw what I went to see. His long shaft lay flaccid on his thigh. I stood for almost a half hour. I watched in silent fascination as my son's cock almost fully hardened at one point. I imagined it in my mouth, on my tongue. I felt myself on the edge of doing the unthinkable. I went back to my room and made myself come twice.
Even that night, in my cobwebbed denials, I never thought that I could ever let him put that cock inside me nor did I think he would want to. After all, I was his mother.
Things began going crazy when Danny came home after prom night. I asked him how it went and said "Okay". I asked him why it wasn't 'great' or 'fabulous' and he laughed and said. "Those are details you really don't want to know mom." I was serious when I told him he could tell me anything and that I wanted to know anything that affected him. I knew he'd had a few drinks but I was a still wide eyed when he told me. "Well it's Karen, I sort of broke up with her tonight…it's a sex thing mom, are you sure you want to hear this?"
I put my hand over his and said, "Sure I do, but I'm surprised you broke up because she's such a pretty girl and she has a wonderful body."
"It's okay…it's not as nice as yours mom and she really doesn't want to use it. We've had…you know…intercourse a few times…but she never wants to do anything else…it makes no sense but she says the other stuff is only if we get 'serious' or engaged or something. Hey, I'm not ready for anything like that…I mean I'm not getting married just to get…it doesn't matter…it's not like we were in love or anything."
"Well I'm glad you're not rushing into anything…you're young and handsome and there are going to be a lot of women…I'm sure." His remark about my body sensitized me. "I shouldn't ask you this but I'm curious, have you already done all those 'other things' with other girls?"
" Boy mom you really are curious." He took a deeper breath and said, "I've had oral sex a lot and it's great but I've never had uh…anal…not that I would mind trying it but…" Dan started to laugh and I asked him why and he said, "Well, Karen said she would NEVER have anal with me because I'm…I guess I'm pretty big…"
I told him, "A woman adjusts…most woman can…I'm sure you're not that big…" I looked down and saw the outline of the bulge in his pants and put my hand on it…I had put my hand on my son's cock! I fogged over; I couldn't hear what he said. I had crossed the line without even knowing I was approaching it. I looked up to see my son with his eyes closed enjoying the rubbing I was giving him. He got harder. Was he enjoying it because it was me or would any eighteen year old get hard if any decent looking woman rubbed his cock, even if it was his mother?
The questions disappeared when his cock appeared. He had unzipped his pants and taken it out. It was swollen red with blood…it was rock hard…its size fascinated me. He said "Suck it mom…please suck it."