I married Nick almost ten years ago when I was 25 years old. Nick was ten years older than me and had custody of his two young sons from a previous marriage, Adam and Craig. It was difficult to assume the role as the mother figure at first, but with time, and the absence of the Nick's ex-wife from the boys' lives, a bond quickly grew between us.
I did not have children of my own, so I never really knew that special bond of a mother and son. I loved Adam and Craig with all my heart, but there was always that knowledge in the back of my mind, and I know in theirs, that I was not their actual mother. I feel that lack of maternal bond contributed to the events that transpired later on in the boys' lives.
My relationship with Adam was not something that happened suddenly. It had been slowly building, as the boys' father and I had grown apart over the last two years, so much to the point he would rarely speak to me. Only when he had been drinking and felt the need to be aggressive did he want to have sex with me. I tried many times to revive the love we used to have but things never recovered. I became lonely, so lonely that the smallest amount of affection I received I greeted with gratefulness.
It was about this time, after he had graduated high school and was enrolled at a local college, that Adam saw the unhappiness that had overcome me. We began to spend more time together, doing everything from shopping to hiking to sitting and listening to music. We spent many evenings sharing thoughts, and Adam even touched on his relations with girls, giving me small hints of what intimate moments he had experienced. Adam became my confidant and best friend.
Like most boys when they get older and begin to notice women, Adam was not very discreet about his interests in the opposite sex. Often I caught him staring at my chest, especially when I was in a bikini and my cleavage was showing. Several occasions I noticed him staring up my dress when he was sitting across from me. As he got older I allowed him more opportunities to get a view down my shirt or up my dress. At this time I began to look at Adam less as a stepson, and more as a sexually curious young man, one who was giving me attention that I sorely missed.
Too my knowledge Adam had never seen me nude until the night I caught him standing in the doorway of my bedroom. I had just taken a shower and my robe was in the closet. Thinking I was secure in my own bedroom, and not thinking about the door being partially open, I walked out of the bathroom completely naked and walked to the closet for the robe. Before I closed the robe in the front I turned and saw Adam standing in the doorway, his eyes glued to my body. By instinct I closed the robe quickly. Mortified, Adam turned and darted down the hallway, his bedroom door slamming behind him. Afraid I would traumatize Adam with guilt, I did not mention this to him.
The next time Adam and I had an encounter was when I thought he was out of the house after I had returned home from a quarterly work dinner. Thinking all three males were out of the house I stripped off my dress at the laundry room and tossed it on the washer. As I walked down the hallway around the corner out of nowhere came Adam, not four feet from me.
As we both stopped in alarm I saw Adam's eyes immediately dropped to my breasts which were encased in my best push up/fuck me bra. Instead of running nervously I merely sauntered toward my bedroom, giving Adam clear view of my bare cheeks and the black strip of thong running down the crack of my ass. A thought popped into my head that I'd never had before: I wanted Adam to look. Of course the drinks I had earlier most likely helped stir up these thoughts.
In one abrupt move, I stop and turned back to Adam. "I thought you guys were over at your uncle's working on that race car."
