Gina Pt 01 Right Before The Trip

After a lot of soul-searching, I've decided to spill this story onto these pages. Some of it's ripped straight from reality, some spun from the wild corners of my mind. Names and places? A mix of truth and fiction--maybe they're real, maybe not. Who's to say? What I can promise is this: every character tangled up in the heat of these moments was 18 or older when things got steamy. So, dive in, enjoy the ride, and feel free to toss me your praise or critiques--I'm all ears.

"Well, Gina, I hope you have an amazing vacation. Enjoy those three weeks because when you're back, we've got a ton of projects waiting for us," Sabrina said, already reaching for the phone again. Sabrina was my boss. She owned a small office supply wholesale business that she'd inherited from her husband, who'd tragically died in a car accident three years ago. By now, she'd gotten the hang of things, and the business was thriving. I started working for her as an assistant shortly after she took over, and as it turned out, we made a fantastic team. While she handled client acquisition and customer service, my responsibilities revolved around organizing and processing orders. There was one other employee in our company, Kevin, who took care of deliveries, which made the workplace feel really close-knit and family-like.

"Don't worry, I'm totally ready for a break and so excited to spend time in Mexico with Junior," I said, giving her a quick wave before heading out of my office. Since I'd actually managed to wrap up all my work, Sabrina had offered me the chance to clock out three hours early, an offer I happily accepted. So, I hopped into my car and drove the 30-minute route to our house on the outskirts of town. No need to rush--tomorrow morning at 8 a.m., my son and I would be off to Mexico, specifically Cancún, for our vacation.

There'd be plenty of time to pack my suitcase tonight. On the drive home, I mentally ran through my checklist to make sure I hadn't forgotten anything. "SHIT!" I blurted out. It hit me like a ton of bricks--I'd left the file I meant to bring to the office this morning hanging on the coat rack at home. Sabrina would need it next week. I was kicking myself as I pulled into our driveway. Oh well, looks like I'll have to swing back by the office, I thought. I left my purse on the passenger seat, got out, and unlocked the front door.

Dominic--whom I'd always called Junior--had mentioned he was stopping by his friend's place after school to pick up the headphones he'd left there last time, so he'd be ready for the trip. Just as I locked the front door behind me and reached for the business file, I heard muffled noises coming from upstairs. After listening more closely, the sounds turned into unmistakable moaning. And with even sharper focus, it became clear that the moaning was coming from a porn video.

I started grinning to myself, thinking, 'Well, Junior's taking one last chance to jerk off properly before he has to share a room with his old mom for two weeks.' I was about to grab the company file and turn around when I caught distinct snippets of dialogue: "...don't I have hot tits, my son? Do you like playing with Mommy's melons?" That was all I could make out before my mind started spinning. Had I heard that right-- "Mommy?" My head would've probably glowed in the dark from the shock, but at the same time, I felt a weird tingle between my legs.

'How could a few words do that?' I wondered. It wasn't news to me that my son jerked off pretty often and watched the occasional porn while he was at it. I'd also noticed he didn't always keep the volume under control. The same went for me, my videos were usually muted, but I couldn't keep quiet when I got myself off. That had led to a few playful arguments between us. Neither of us was shy about speaking our minds. There'd been mornings when he'd casually mention over breakfast that he'd heard me the night before, joking that it sounded like I was "in the middle of it, not just at it." I'd fire back that he wasn't exactly silent himself and that I probably knew all his kinks by now.

When it came to sex stuff, we were pretty open and took it all in stride--nothing had ever happened between us, of course. Sure, he'd peeked at me a few times when I was showering or changing--who wouldn't if they got the chance? And I was certain I'd starred in his fantasies as a jerk-off muse now and then. But incest porn? That was new to me. After a brief internal debate, I decided to get to the bottom of it and slipped off my shoes. No point in announcing myself from a mile away. Carefully and quietly, I climbed the stairs to the second floor.

The voices from the porn grew clearer, and judging by the sound, the woman on screen was giving her "son" a titjob. "So, you like fucking me between my tits?" I heard her say. "Mom, you've got such hot melons--I've always dreamed of this!" her film son replied. I crept closer to Junior's bedroom door and peeked cautiously around the frame. The room was brightly lit, and my son was standing in front of his desk, his back half-turned to me.

From his movements, I could tell he was fully in the zone, stroking his cock. Before I could see what was playing on the screen, I noticed he was holding something in his right hand, using it to rub his rock-hard erection. My mouth formed a silent "O" when I realized it was a black bikini bottom--and I was damn sure it was mine. Slowly and rhythmically, he slid his hand along his shaft, wrapped in my swimsuit. His breathing was already picking up, his gaze locked on the screen, where the movie mom was urging her son to thrust harder between her tits and "cover her good." Every time the guy in the film buried his cock up to the hilt between her massive breasts, she'd stick out her tongue and lick the tip.

You could tell the guy in the video was about to lose it. Junior, though, didn't speed up--he kept his pace steady. Less than 30 seconds later, the kid on screen was done for. Right before he came, he pulled out from his "mom's" cleavage and finished himself off. With loud groans, he shot his load all over her chest and face. The woman licked the cum off her lips and said, "Wow, you were really pent up! Next time, don't wait so long. Your mommy's always here for you. You've got such a hot cock--I want to feel it inside me sometime."

The video faded to black, and I was just about to turn away and sneak off when I heard moaning--this time from my son. "Mom, you've got such incredible tits. One day, I want to come all over you just like that." His stroking picked up speed, and from his intense reaction, I could tell he was getting close. I was stunned to hear him confess it so openly. I'd suspected he had those kinds of thoughts for a while but hearing him say it out loud made me a little nervous. Did he really want that? Then he shifted slightly away from me and let go of his cock.

He dropped the bikini bottom carelessly to the floor, walked over to his bed, and climbed onto it. He'd rolled his blanket into a makeshift cylinder and knelt over it, like he was straddling someone beneath him. From under his pillow, he pulled something out that I couldn't quite make out at first. Then he draped it over the top of the blanket--it was the matching bikini top to the bottoms he'd just been using. One of the three bikinis I'd bought specially for this trip. He positioned it so it looked like it was being worn, then slid up a bit and started stroking himself again, slowly this time, rubbing the tip of his cock around the spots where my nipples would normally peek through.

"Mom, you look so hot. You've got such amazing tits and a gorgeous ass. I'd love to touch it all, knead it hard. Let me slide my cock between your tits and fuck them till I come." His strokes grew faster and more forceful than they'd been during the video. "You drive me crazy when you walk around the house in leggings and a shirt with no underwear. I just want to grope you all over, press my hard cock against you, and grind on you."

His words got sloppier as his arousal built. "Mom, I want you. It drives me nuts to hear you get yourself off. I'd love to give you an orgasm with my cock." He was almost there, his breathing coming in short, sharp bursts. "Mom, this is for you!" Then he came--hard. He aimed his tip right at my bikini top and unloaded, soaking it with several spurts of cum. I started trembling as I watched him finish, but I was still clear-headed enough to turn silently and tiptoe back downstairs to the hallway. I grabbed my shoes and the company files I needed to drop off at the office, slipped out of the house as quietly as possible, got in my car, and pulled out of the driveway, hoping Junior wouldn't see or hear me.

On the drive to the office, my head was a mess--I couldn't think straight. My son wanted to have sex with me. In that moment, I wasn't his mother; I was a woman he desired. Did he want me because I was his mom? I pushed the thought aside and tried to focus on driving. Thirty minutes later, I pulled into the office parking lot, which we shared with a discount grocery store. It was almost empty. I decided to sit in the car for a few minutes to process what I'd just seen. I realized I must've gotten wet watching my son make that little mess. I had to admit I'd been seriously turned on spying on him. But it wasn't just because he was my son; it was because he was a young guy who seemed to want me.

I'll confess, since my divorce ten years ago, I've had a thing for younger men. I love their wild, youthful energy--it's just raw lust for sex. And that's exactly what I craved. Every now and then, I'd go "on the prowl," as I called it. All it took was wearing something tight with as little underwear as possible to get those young bucks riled up. My looks did the rest. I'm only 5'1", so I got shortchanged in the height department, but I was blessed with a 34D chest to make up for it. With some Italian ancestry from my mom's side, my long black hair and warm complexion sealed the deal. I wasn't fat, but I carried a few extra pounds--mostly in my ass. Not that anyone's ever complained.

On the contrary, the young guys loved having something to grab onto, something that jiggled when they fucked me. Most of my one-night stands ended up in a car, in the woods, or--on rare occasions when I knew Junior wouldn't be home--in my bedroom. I never worried about any of those young studs wanting a relationship; I knew it was just no-strings, one-time sex. Junior was aware I hooked up occasionally and played the "DIY" game a lot, but thank God he'd never caught me in the act. As I sat there staring out the car window, I spotted Christian, my boss's son, heading toward the office door. He was acting weird, glancing around like he was being followed. Before I could react from the car, he reached the entrance and slipped inside.

'Weird behavior', I thought to myself. Then I grabbed the company files from the passenger seat--the ones I'd picked up from home--and got out of the car. I briefly considered throwing on the jacket still lying in the back since it was a bit windy but decided against it and started walking slowly toward the entrance. The ground floor housed our warehouse and two small offices for order processing, while Sabrina's office and mine were upstairs, along with a kitchen, a nice little meeting room, and the bathrooms. As I climbed the stairs, I debated popping into Sabrina's office for a quick chat to take my mind off things. But honestly, I just wanted to get home, finish packing our suitcases for the trip, and take a relaxing bath before we had to head to the airport early tomorrow morning.

So, I opted to drop the files off in my office and send her a quick text later. Since my office was on the right, before hers, I figured I could slip in and out unnoticed. I quietly opened my door, walked to my desk, and set the files down. From the next room, I could hear Sabrina's voice, soft and muffled, and she must've been on the phone. Maybe I should wait a sec and then pop over to say hi. To get a better look at what was happening in her office, I stepped to the wall and opened a small panel. Behind it was a recessed nook with a one-way mirror that let me peek straight into Sabrina's space and hear everything clearly. From her side, it just looked like a regular mirror on the wall.

The reason we'd set this up was simple. About a year after she took over the business from her late husband, there'd been some strange thefts in her office. So, we created this little spot to hide a camera and keep an eye on things when she wasn't around. Turned out one of the employees had been snooping for cash and jewelry. He got fired on the spot. When the panel on my side was open, I could see and hear everything in her room perfectly. We had an agreement: whenever she had client meetings, I'd watch from here live. We'd worked out code words--if she dropped one, I'd barge in with some excuse to end the meeting. Over time, we started using this setup to record long or tricky conversations too, just in case we needed to double-check what was said. Not exactly legal by today's privacy standards, but damn useful.

As I squinted through the little window, I saw Sabrina leaning back in her executive chair, phone in hand, looking relaxed. Her son, Christian, stood behind her, massaging her shoulders. It was an odd sight--his angle gave him a clear view down her blouse. She was wearing a white top with a short black skirt. The top two buttons were undone, and you could see her bra faintly through the fabric. He had a straight shot at her cleavage, her curves barely contained by the bra.

"Yes, Mr. Miller, I understand your emergency, but unfortunately, my driver's already out on a run and won't be able to drop off your order today," I heard her say. After a brief pause--presumably Mr. Miller replying--she continued, "Let me just check something on my computer to see how we can fix this." But instead of looking at her screen, she tilted her head back and locked eyes with her son. You could tell she was silently asking him if he'd handle the delivery. Instead of answering, Christian slid his hands--still resting on her shoulders--slowly down to her breasts. 'What the hell's going on?' I thought. Sabrina took a slow, quiet breath and said to Mr. Miller, "I think I've got a solution for you. My son will swing by with the register tape you need in his car today, so you'll at least make it through Monday noon until the main delivery arrives."

Right then, Christian's hands closed around her breasts, kneading them gently through the fabric. Sabrina, head still tilted back, grinned at him like this was the most normal thing in the world. "No, Mr. Miller, he'll load up the car as soon as he's done with his current task and head your way. I'd say he'll be there by 4 p.m. at the latest." After a short pause, she wrapped up, "Oh, you're welcome, Mr. Miller--we're always happy to help in a pinch. Have a great weekend!"

She leaned forward to hang up the phone, then sank back into her chair. Her hands moved to his, guiding them back to her chest as she tilted her head again. "That's sweet of you to step in," she said. "Mom, that's gonna cost extra," he shot back with a cheeky grin. "You know I was supposed to hang out with my buddies this afternoon." "I know," she replied, "but I figured a little cash boost might do your wallet some good. Your friends aren't going anywhere, but this job can't wait. And don't forget--we've got plans for a nice evening tonight."

She stood up from her chair and faced him. "You know how much I love our Friday nights together," she said, placing her hands on his shoulders and sliding them down his arms, then his hips. When she reached his ass, she ran her hands over it, one slipping around to the front where his zipper strained against an obvious bulge. My jaw practically hit the floor. This was way more intimate than you'd expect between a mother and son. And from the looks of it, this wasn't their first rodeo.

Sabrina locked eyes with her son as her hand brushed over the growing bulge in his pants. "Maybe I could be persuaded to give you a little advance on that pending job," she said with a sly smile. "I think there's something that might make up for missing out on fun with your buddies," she added. She gripped his pants tighter, kneading his obvious erection. He let out a quiet groan. "Mom, that's not fair! You know I can't resist that. But I'm warning you--this won't come cheap." He grabbed her ass with both hands and pulled her close. She wrapped her arms around his neck and teased, "And what does my dear son have in mind as payment for this last-minute gig?"

"I've got a pretty good starting point," he replied with a lustful grin, pressing his lips to hers. Almost instinctively, she parted her lips, and he wasted no time sliding his tongue into her mouth. They didn't just kiss like a mother and son shouldn't--they made out like teenagers with the house to themselves. His hands slid from her ass to the hem of her skirt, inching it up inch by inch. As their tongues wrestled, he started groping her bare cheeks greedily once they were exposed.

"Mom, that's unfair," he groaned mid-kiss. "You're making me so horny!" he added, nudging her closer to her desk. When they were near enough, he grabbed her hips, broke the kiss, lifted her up, and set her back down on the edge of the desk. With her skirt hiked up, her panties were pretty much on full display. He placed his hands on her thighs and slid them upward slowly. His fingers grazed over her panties, making her let out a soft, quiet moan. She looked at him and said, "You drive a hard bargain."

As his fingertips traced up the buttons of her blouse, he replied, "The negotiations haven't even started yet. You sure we're alone?" "Yeah, everyone's gone, and Kevin won't be back till around 5 p.m. after his delivery run. Why?" she asked with a mischievous glint. Before he could answer, he grabbed her blouse with both hands and ripped it open. Sabrina let out a sharp yelp as buttons flew everywhere.

I struggled to stay calm watching this unfold. I couldn't deny it--this forbidden game was getting to me. My pussy was already wet again. Christian, unfazed, grabbed her breasts through her black lace bra, now fully exposed. "Well, I'm docking that from your pay," she said with a playful pout. "That was my favorite blouse." "Oh, that's included in the special service fee for sacrificing my free time for your company," he shot back, his eyes wide and glued to her chest. He slipped the bra straps off her shoulders, then slid his hands lower, slipping two fingers into her cups.

He slowly peeled the cups down with his fingers. I stared, transfixed, from my vantage point as her breasts came into view, bare for a fleeting moment. They sagged slightly, but her nipples stood stiff and proud. From my angle, I couldn't quite make out the size or shade of her areolas. My own nipples hardened, and without thinking, I cupped my breasts, circling a finger over one. I had to bite back a moan. If Sabrina caught me spying, I'd be toast.

Christian pinched her nipples between his thumbs and fingers, twisting lightly, making her gasp. Then he leaned in and started teasing them with his tongue, switching between them. Sabrina moaned breathlessly. "So, you like Mommy's tits?" Before he could answer, his lips closed around one nipple, sucking gently. "Oh God, that drives me wild when you work them like that--really go for it, I love it," she urged. He sucked harder, kneading her breasts with his hands for support. He pulled back just long enough to say, "You've got killer MILF tits, Mom. Too good to keep covered up--you should let 'em hang out all the time."

He latched back on, and his hand slid straight between her legs, brushing over her panties. He pushed the fabric aside, his fingers easing between her lips. His index finger edged toward her clit. Sabrina, still perched on the desk, leaned back until she was lying flat, spreading her legs and planting her heels on the edge. That broke his contact with her breasts, but he saw the opportunity instantly. He pulled the office chair behind him closer, sat down, and positioned himself right in front of her pussy. He grabbed the waistband of her skirt and panties together, grinning as he said, "Now that's a negotiation offer I've got to inspect up close."