It took a while for my Matthew to accept that his aunt's dark threats were both empty and meaningless. There was no way my sister would carry out any revenge on us, let alone make our actions public knowledge.
It was true enough, though, that I had gone against the agreement - that no one else would get to know of the sexual relationship that Matthew and I were now sharing - but even so, he came to agree that my sister, his aunt, was an exception. And in any case, whatever she had said couldn't hide the fact that she had enjoyed he own participation - okay, had enjoyed being fucked by her nephew - too much to risk any complaints outside of my four walls.
For his part, Matthew soon came to accept that things had taken their naturally unnatural path, and I eventually - genuinely - allowed him to make another notch in the leg of his bed. I was secretly highly delighted when I was allowed to view the mark he'd made. It was so much smaller than the giant gouge that was meant to represent me.
Once things had returned to our new version of 'normal' he spent every night in my bed - a rare treat for me almost as much as it was a first for my boy. And sex - well, let's just say that I was permanently rather sore. Matthew even started every morning for me by bringing me a coffee, a rose (and my morning-after pill during the first week) before I was even properly awake. I loved that, even though the coffee was often stone-cold by the time our early morning fun and games gave me time to sit up and drink it. I'm almost amazed that the roses didn't shed their petals given how long some of the fun and games lasted.
Deep down at the back of my admittedly dirty mind I was still aware that the relationship was a temporary affair, and that I was trying to help educate my son - even if my lifetime orgasm count was threatening to treble in just a couple of months. And so it was that 'education' became a theme, although for 'education' read 'wild experiments to see what really got us buzzing'.
I've already mentioned somewhere in my written ramblings that it had become clear that the genetics shared between Matthew and I seemed to provide a very strong link, and this was certainly true when it came to our preferences. Ever since I was a teenager, maybe even one younger than my boy is now, I have enjoyed teasing displays. Very daring clothing has always been one of the biggest thrills for me, so when it became clear that my son absolutely adored me being that daring - without any prompting from me, I might add - I was more than happy to play along.
Because of the nature of our agreement and the relationship in general, any such activity had to take place a long way from home where we would not risk anyone recognising us - and where I need never show my face again. And so it was that we began the third week of our fun and games at a hotel in a far-flung part of the country where we were to stay for three naughty nights. It was the first day of August when we arrived and the summer sun was, by British standards, unseasonably hot - which gave me the perfect excuse to wear as little as decency laws allowed. I started that way from the moment we checked in - Matthew looking very mature for his teenage years, and my dress cut low enough that the clerk behind the counter didn't even notice I might have been a good few years older than 'Mr Smithson', my partner - and we were soon in our room getting ready for our first foray into the small hotel bar.
"Too much?" I asked Matty, modelling a tiny summer dress for him.
"I guess 'too little' would be a more appropriate question," he grinned "but the answer is 'no' either way. Just don't sneeze - you'll pop out of the top of that thing!"
I laughed, "You'd object to that?"
"Actually, no way, ma. I might even ask if they've got any spare pepper down there."
"You're a very naughty boy... but I adore you. Are you ready to go down?"
The new, mature, Matthew closed the gap between us and planted a very mature kiss on my lips, "As long as you are, ma. And as long as you really don't think this is too much. Or maybe that should be too little."
I pressed up against him, "Judging by a certain bulge, I reckon this particular experiment is already working for you - and Matty? Just as a bonus, I honestly love being this daring anyway."
That much was very true and I had really dressed for the occasion. The frock was extremely short, its hem no more than an inch or two below my very brief, silky panties. It's neckline was probably even more daring, plunging into a 'v' that ended just below my bra-less breasts, the loose material just covering two very erect, very tingly nipples. My son's comment about sneezing was not far from the truth. To complete the outfit I wore a pair of sandals with three inch heels - enough to make me just an inch shorter than my 'companion' and which gently stressed my thighs into a smooth muscular shape that appealed to me almost as much as my sex-mad son.
"Do we have to go down yet, ma, or can we spend a few minutes here first?"
I snorted a very un-ladylike giggle, "Matthew! We've only just got out of the damned bed. And anyway, I want you gagging for my bod by the time we get back here so a little teasing time is only right." I paused and gave him my dirtiest smile, "Or don't you want guys looking at me this way down there now?"
"Oh god yes!"
"So," I trailed a hand down his cheek, "You want to be seen as the guy who is lucky enough to get to know what the other few inches under this dress look like... naked?"
"Oh yes."
"You want them all to know that you're the one that's going to be bringing me back to your room and... fucking my brains out?"
"Ma! Yes, okay? At this rate I'll be cumming in my shorts before we even get back here!" He cupped my butt cheeks, "Maybe even before we leave here!"
I slipped back out of his grasp with another giggle, "Good! Let's get down there then." I turned and virtually ran out of the door before he could change my mind.
Even with the journey under way, my son was clearly torn between wanting to go through with the daring little show and wanting to get me back into the hotel bed. For my part, I reckoned that the sooner we got playing our games - educating him, of course - the better. The summer was going to be short enough as it was - and my period was due before the week was out - so the more fun and games we could pack in, the better. And besides, it had been a long time since I'd had the chance to be that daring and quite frankly, I was looking forward to letting my inner slut have free rein for a few hours.
All of which did not stop Matthew from running his finger deliciously over my nipples (and under my dress) in the lift. At least I could blame my blush on the heat when we finally stepped into the bar.
He took my hand in a vice-like grip as we walked up to the counter, displaying the nervousness he must have been feeling, but was still capable of asking a suddenly very attentive bar-tender for two glasses of white wine. He asked for 'something a little dry, cold to the point of near-solidity' - words that I had taught him so that he would appear older than his years, and which proved totally pointless since the barman's whole attention was focused on the front of my dress.
I should point out that I hadn't, before that summer, allowed Matthew anything more than the occasional bottle of lager, but since we had been together as a sexual couple, the rule had been relaxed a little - although he was never allowed enough to threaten a loss of performance.
The drinks finally arrived - mine delivered in a very 'James Bond' manner since the barman's hands were shaking slightly and only stirring my inner thrills - and I indicated two of the high stools that lined the front of the counter. "Shall we?"
Matthew's eyes almost popped out of his head when he considered the height of the seats and the length of my dress. "Er... yes... if you're sure?"
"Oh, I am," I said, "After all, if we're going to enjoy ourselves, surely that would be a great start, don't you think?"
"Oh yes, m... Maisie."
I laughed, pleased that he'd remembered to use an alias rather than his usual 'ma'. The name 'Maisie' had been chosen out of sheer naughtiness - being both easy to remember for my son, and very reminiscent of an earlier naughty evening. It was too much for me to hope that it might somehow end up associated with my sister, but you never knew. "Well, thank you, Michael. Will you help me up there?"
He led me the few feet to the barstool and held out a hand for me to use as support as I took my place, the dress riding so high that he was in no doubt that I had chosen the very thin, silky white knicks that I knew he loved. With his body between me and the rest of the bar - there were already six other guests sipping at pre-dinner drinks - he made no pretence in hiding his approval.
"You're looking fantastic, Maisie."
"Why, thank you, lover."
He rolled his eyes and looked higher at last. He'd been about to sip at his drink but almost choked, "And... and the... I mean..."
I looked down to where his eyes were now fixed on my neckline. Or more to the point, where the top of the dress hung a little away from my breasts. I could clearly see my nipples. "Is it me, or is it very hot in here?" I managed.
Matthew had recovered a tiny bit of poise, "Bare hot... way hot, I mean."
I laughed, my belly turning joyous cartwheels, "At least the wine's nice and cold. Do you think we can have another soon?"
My son's eyes flicked between me, sitting sideways on to the bar, and the barman who was hovering a few metres further down the bar. I could see Matthew calculating the view that the barman would be treated to and he nodded fast, "I reckon that'd be perfect."
"Are you sure, Michael? It won't be... too much? Wine, I mean."
