A few months ago my son, Jake, graduated from university with a first class degree in History. He had planned to move in with his long-term girlfriend, Amy but sadly and seemingly out of the blue, they split up just after graduation. I've still no idea what caused the break-up, but it hit him pretty hard and despite what he says, I can tell he's still not over her. So, he's now back at home while he looks for a job. Unfortunately, a history degree doesn't open up too many employment opportunities. Of course, it's lovely to have him back, I missed him hugely when he was away, as any loving mother would.
That said, he's a fully grown adult but behaves more like a grumpy teenager. He spends most of his time in his room with his door shut, awake until the early hours glued to his computer screen, often chatting away loudly, with his headphones on. I've no idea what he gets up to...playing online games, talking to friends or strangers, no doubt watching porn. Judging by the number of tissues he gets through and bearing in mind his single status, I presume he spends a fair bit of his alone time masturbating. He certainly doesn't appreciate interruptions, mostly communicating via a series of monosyllabic grunts.
As you'd probably guess, Jake isn't a morning person, in fact given the chance he'd probably stay in bed all day. Anyway, the other day I needed him to be awake earlier than usual, as I was going out at 10 am and an important parcel was being delivered sometime after that. He'd been briefed, but the chances of him crawling out of bed of his own accord were next to zero. So, around 9.30 am, not exactly the crack of dawn, I undertook the precarious task of waking him up. I made him a strong coffee to help kick start the process and knocked on his door. There was no response, so I knocked again more loudly...still silence. I decided it was safe to let myself in. He was dead to the world, so I placed the mug of coffee on his bedside table and gave him a gentle nudge. He groaned disapprovingly...but didn't wake up. "Time to get up." I announced cheerfully, nudging him more forcefully. He just grunted something indistinguishable, no doubt including the odd expletive and pulled the covers up over his head.
"Wakey, wakey!" I demanded, pulling the duvet from the bed with a purposeful tug.
He was furious...and more than a little embarrassed. I couldn't miss the massive bulge stretching the tight fabric of his pyjama shorts. "Ooops!" I said, finding it difficult not to stare at the contours of his erect penis. He turned away from me and onto his side, clearly mortified.
"Don't be silly Jake, it's perfectly natural...and I've seen it all before". I assured him. To be honest though, I'd never seen it that big and that hard. I felt my heart beat a little faster and was somewhat surprised by an unexpected tingling between my legs.
"Sorry love, I didn't mean to embarrass you..." I said "...but I really do need you to get up for the delivery...remember?"
Reluctantly he turned to face me, still slightly red faced.
"Oh yeah, right." he acknowledged.
As I leant over to hand him his coffee, I noticed his gaze shifting from the mug in my hand towards my chest. I glanced down.
"Ooops!" I said for the second time. My left breast was completely exposed. My gown must have come open as I'd pulled the covers from the bed. It was Jake's turn to stare and my turn to blush.
"Nice tits Mum!" He smiled, with a decidedly naughty twinkle in his eyes.
"I'm sorry! What did you say?" I asked, shocked...but if truth be told surprisingly aroused by his inappropriate comment.
"You heard." he laughed sitting up. "Seriously you really do have amazing tits for someone your age."
"Thank you... I think" I replied, covering myself back up, embarrassed, yet flattered.
He looked disappointed.
"This may sound like a strange thing to ask..." He added tentatively. "But can I see them properly?"
I couldn't help but notice the bulge in his shorts, twitching as he spoke.
"See them properly?" I repeated, taken aback by his question.
"Yes."
"My breasts?"
"Yes, I want to see them properly...both of them." he smiled.
"But, but... I'm your mother!" I responded as sternly as I could.
"So?"
"Well, err...it's...it's just wrong." I stuttered.
"Why?" he demanded. His eyes fixed firmly on my breasts.
I pulled the robe tighter around me, folding my arms defensively over my nipples, which were conspicuously erect beneath the sheer fabric. He looked crest fallen, projecting the same doe eyed expression he'd perfected as a small boy. It was his not-so secret weapon, deployed whenever he was desperate to get his way and it was still hard to resist.
"Oh, come on Mum. Please, I really want to see them..." he begged. "...why is it wrong...I mean, who's it going to hurt?".
I didn't know how to respond. The truth is I knew it was wrong, yet at the same time I felt an overwhelming urge to expose myself and see his reaction. My pussy ached, I could feel my juices beginning to flow.
No, this was wrong, I was his mother. I turned to leave...
"But Mum. You're so hot, I can't help it... Please, just let me see them once. I'll never ask again... promise."
Despite myself, I was feeling increasingly aroused and getting wetter by the second.
"Don't you want to make me happy?" he pleaded.
I took a deep breath, trying to compose myself and hide my excitement. I turned to face him.
"Just once...and you promise never to ask again?" My voice was shaky, my mouth dry, unlike my vagina which was anything but!
"Promise!" he smiled, eyes twinkling with anticipation.
I smiled, nervously. "Ok...if you promise?" He nodded his agreement, like a small boy who'd been promised a new toy, then watched, expectantly as I slowly opened my gown. My nipples were as hard as bullets, my heart pounded loudly in my chest.
For what seemed like an age Jake said nothing, he just stared. His eyes moving from left to right, up, down and around, mapping every inch, every contour, clearly enjoying the view. My head swam.
Eventually he lifted his gaze, our eyes met. He smiled the biggest, sweetest, sexiest smile imaginable.
