A Lifetime Kink Ch 08

Author's Note:

Like Stevie's daydream about what might have otherwise happened with her son at the swimming baths, this is not a direct continuation of A Lifetime Kink, but a short and sweet interlude. In the previous chapter, during a discussion about the feelings and thoughts Stevie and Lee had about recent discoveries, Stevie spoke of a letter she wrote but never let him read.

She was worried that it would change things for the worse, scared that confessing to her feelings for him and her fantasies about him would drive him away. Of course – Lee said it best – he was still here.

That settled it! Stevie was going to let him read her secret letter, but before she did she would rewrite it to include how she now felt all this time later. When she would summon the courage to show him was a different matter.

*****

1

So, something happened recently that turned my world upside down. You might be embarrassed reading this, but judging by the very fact that you're reading this because you want to, that gives me reason to believe that I'm worrying too much.

For a long time now I've been watching, very aware of the man that you've developed into. You already know all the things I've gotten off my chest as of late. And still you might not know just how much I appreciate your company, your presence – and you just being you.

My son is a handsome young man, and quite the stud. I often indulge in a little fantasy with him in mind. You might be surprised how man mums do. But I can't imagine that many of them have discovered their adult sons mutually fantasising about them.

I already confessed that I was motivated to bedding you on your 18th birthday. Still I can't quite reason or justify why, but I'd like this to be the very last time I ever bring that up. I want to forget where my mind was back then. I was vulnerable. We were both vulnerable.

But in light of recent difficulties, taking the weight of my secrets off my shoulders and confessing almost everything on the matter uncovered secrets even I wasn't prepared for. Clearly whatever has happened between us has developed feelings, and fixations, that neither of us could have expected.

That's what I assume, at least. I can only hope that you tell me I'm right, or else talk to me about it.

One night not so long ago, while the subject was raised once more, you too confessed to me that if we'd indeed had sex on your 18th, it would have been 100% consensual between us. Not only that – it still would be.

That was quite the bombshell. If I wasn't the person that I am, I don't think we'd be where we are today. I can imagine there are a lot of disowned men out in the world as a result of similar confessions and conflicted emotions.

To me, it affirmed a possibility that I was not so crazy. It scared me, but like falling into the dark only to find your feet, discovering that I wasn't to fall so far, it brought unbelievable relief in the end.

I'm certain that you were careful enough with your words to know the implications. Did you really mean to say that you still would consider sex with your mother now? I never asked. I never dared. I still wonder if you had any idea the impact that had on me.

Since that night I've let the direction of our relationship speak for itself, and although nothing has been said directly on the matter since, we've been closer than ever as a family, but also undeniably more playful and flirtatious.

2

But let's go back to that moment in time...

Hearing, with my own ears, and right from the horse's mouth, my adult son felt the same, and sometimes thought of the same things as me. How does a normal mother get her head around the confession that her son would have sex with her – let alone the likes of me?

Feeling loved and protected as you slept next to me, I just let it be and drifted off. The next morning I woke up early, looked at you sleeping beside me, and I just didn't know how to feel. Everything felt different. I wasn't even sure I was seeing you through my own eyes, and I know that probably makes no sense.

It was early, but still I longed to know more. Confused, I longed to hear you say those same words again, as if hearing them by daylight might confirm that they were real. Unable to blow off the steam of such revelation, and the frustration it caused, I got quietly dressed for the gym and left you to sleep in my bed.

(If I'd have been alone, though, I know what I'd have done about the frustration part.)

Later I returned home. I didn't see or hear you around. I figured that you weren't home, so I wandered upstairs to get dressed for the day. And that was when I heard it. I heard you talking to yourself, your breathing laboured.

Okay so you were home, I guess. It seemed strange that you were working out without music. Boy did I get a shock when I saw with my own eyes how wrong I was about what you were doing in your bedroom...

3

There I was, frozen to the spot. You had no idea I was there. Have you ever felt real shock, the kind that leaves you breathless and shaking, unable to think for yourself?

After what we had talked about that night, now here you were, your frankly gorgeous cock in your hand, hard as a rock while you feverishly masturbated yourself to kingdom come. My heart in my throat, it dropped like a brick when I watched you spit into your hand and lubricate yourself.

You could have used a little more!

As if I wasn't already shocked enough, as I found myself in awe of that incredibly erotic sight, then you muttered the word "Mum". 'There it was,' I thought. 'He really does still think of me the way I think of him.' And in that moment I knew I was not done confessing my secrets to you.

"Do you even know what you're doing to me, mum?" I believe you pleaded as you neared your impressive climax. By then I was leaning weakly against the doorframe, and ready to collapse. I could not look away and I didn't want to.

Now most mums would have walked away. Others might have panicked. I did neither. Instead I stood there and fuelled fantasy, now realising that you were telling the truth. Bearing in mind the things said between us, so many deep desires were awoken in me at that point.

It was like a religious experience, an undescribable awakening, and one that I would never forget. Just thinking of your hard cock the way I've seen it (several times now). But moving on for now, I knew as I crept away that I had things to tell you.

4

Did I tell you?

I can't remember. I've said a lot since then. Against all odds I managed to let you know that not only had I seen and heard you masturbating as you thought of me (knowing that you were imagining having sex with me), but that I approved of it. I was more than okay with it and I knew that you knew why!

Well, maybe now is as good a time as any to say it directly. Son, you can fantasise about me any time. If it's okay by you that I think about having sex with you, then by all means put that imagination of yours, and that beautiful hard-on, to good use.

Ever since that day we've developed an easier relationship, a closer one that I hope has been as fulfilling to you as it has been to me. You make me laugh so much. You're so laid back and confident and mature when you need to be, and yet I love that we can play around and be childish.

Since then the anxiety has been melting away, and yet here I am being openly flirtatious, showing off and touching you – being more affectionate and, I suppose, just loving you as much as I'd always have liked.

This lifetime kink of mine has brought me nightmares up until now. But to show how blessed I truly am with you, your blessing has allowed me to be at peace with what I am. And that too is 100% consensual, because you too are the happiest I've ever seen you.

That makes me a little apprehensive for what comes next!

5

Here it comes...

I love you so much. I couldn't have asked for a better son. I know I've not been able to give you the childhood that most healthy boys have, but I think you've turned out okay under the circumstances. And I know you didn't have the most ordinary teenage life either.

You've seen me as a woman, not just as a mother. There's no use ignoring the fact that you've also seen me as a sex object too. But regardless you never treated me any lesser for it. Where your maturity comes from still stuns me sometimes.

But you are the man of the house, and not just my son – my blood. Maybe that's why we are the way we are. Who knows?

But fantasising about you feels like an extension of our family, an affirmation of the fact that we aren't restricted and distanced by the standards of other people; and by the fact that we're just not like other people.

As you said yourself, I only feel loved, and sometimes a little harder.

Not just wanting to think of you that way... but actually wanting you that way and knowing that it's okay by you, this is not familiar territory or something you can speak to other people about, and so it gives me a lot to think about, and tells me that it's not something I can ignore and hope it goes away.

And I don't want it to go away!

I fantasise about us a lot. You already know that I do, but you've never heard me say how much I do. You've just been the target of my suggestive little pranks up until now, and that might give you a hint here and there as to hope open-minded I really am.

I see you hard in your pants so often (and because of me) that I know I have the same effect on you, and so I figure honesty can only help you to see it from my point of view.

Those kisses we shared in the kitchen that night – after I confessed that I saw you in bed – got me so fucking hot, and yet so scared, thinking how close we might have come to crossing that huge line over into forbidden territory.

The real thing!

Could you imagine the two of us having sex?

I'd be amazed if you managed to simply laugh off the thought. Fantasy is one thing. Seeing the real thing coming so dangerously close changes the way you see everything, because on one hand, yes, sex is just sex – a fun activity between two people who love each other – but wanting it with your son is a big fucking deal.

I had to stop and think for a while, to try to break through from emotion into logic, to try to see the man I knew through the man that I was seeing. Or else when I came into your room to say goodnight, and kissed you again just like that...

You are such a sweet kisser by the way!

I did however retire to my room where I toyed myself to the most intense orgasms, thinking about the two of us fucking in that super-aroused state. I couldn't begin to imagine trying to handle the real thing for how intense my feelings were, despite obsessing over how it would feel, emotionally and physically.

Boundaries were falling. Things had really changed in such a short space of time. Whereas I would otherwise read one of my erotic stories and imagine you and I as the characters, now I was fantasising directly about you and I, about what had very nearly happened.

I began to look for ways to fuel those desires in me, and sought ways to flirt with you, to see what brick wall I'd slam up against next. I've been sort of a one track mind as of late as a result, just bouncing away at our boundaries.

You've no idea the fires you stoke when you look at my body that way you do. You've no idea how hot it made me when I found my wet naked body pressed shivering against yours in the changing cubicle at the baths.

And when I had you massage lotion into my tits, on a dizzying whim that even shocked me, I used and abused the fantasies that came as a result. The most shocking thing was that I'm glad. After our little massage on the sun lounger, that was the sexiest I'd felt in a long time.

And I've been trying to let you know that it's okay to feel the way you feel about me. I feel I have to remind you so that you don't ever retreat into your shell the way I had.

6

So, your mother fantasises about having sex with you a lot. You're her number one fantasy and it can be quite the distraction. I also think a lot about the fact that you enjoy knowing it. I think about the fact that knowing it makes you think of me that way too. I'm happy!

And I feel like we can be open and frank enough not to shy away from it anymore, or feel like it's wrong. You're a man, I'm a woman. You're attractive and you make me feel so sexy sometimes. Open-minded as we are, these things happen naturally.

Do I love you too much? Do you maybe feel the same way lately? These are things I think about too, but we won't know if we don't talk about it.

So I think we should talk more about it and continue to be honest with our thoughts and feelings. But for now I want you know that I feel it's more than okay for you to see me that way. I want you to.

If you want to see me sexually, as a woman or even particularly as your mother, then consider this my official blessing. The thought of you admiring me, desiring me, would make me more than happy.

So I'm going to leave this here and then I'm going to slip out of my panties, and I'm going to imagine you on top of me, if that's okay. I love so many sex positions, but when I think of us I most often think about us being able to look into each others' eyes, intimately exploring the forbidden together while we share what other mothers and their sons can't.

Prudes!

And I know how much you love my tits, so no doubt you'll be sucking on them while that big fat cock of yours slides deep inside your mum's soaked pussy, fitting so snugly you'd think we were made for each other.

Imagine that!

Even before we consider how much spunk you can produce when you're so wound up thinking about me, I would be squishing and splishing as my son's gorgeous hard cock plunged in and out of me, bringing the two of us to absurd levels of sexual ecstasy. Wouldn't that be just the most insane out of this world experience?

Let me know what you think... ;-)

Lots of love and kisses;

Mum

xXx

P.S. – Feel free to borrow my Kindle anytime X

To be continued...