How The Movie Ended

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*****

Andrew came home after a date last night and went on a bit of rant. Eventually, he was telling me about the 'raging hard-on' he had ever since leaving his girlfriend's house.

His father and I divorced when he was 7 so Andrew has been the man of the house for almost 12 years now. I'm not exactly certain when it happened but sharing too much has become very comfortable for us. He's so grown-up now that I'm sure I've become more of a friend and less of a parent recently but I still draw the line at times. He kept carrying on about his 'blue balls' and it was time for him to give it rest.

"Andrew! Really?" I said, calmly but purposefully interrupting. "She's obviously not ready and you should respect that. Now, can we please change the subject?"

"Maybe," he smiled. It was the same smirk I had seen a million times, every time I'd ever given him what he wanted. "It might help if you go put on something a bit less sexy."

"I certainly will not... and it shouldn't make any difference what I'm wearing." I smiled my most loving and supportive smile. It was just a long white bathrobe, terrycloth. I have perfectly respectable dresses for work that are far more revealing.

"Have you been drinking?"

"No, mother, I haven't been drinking and you're wrong. The way you look has always made a difference. Hell, most of the hard-ons I've ever had have been your fault."

His confident smile and shameless eye-contact was enough to melt any girl's heart.

"I'm sorry, baby, but hang in there, OK? You can handle your erections just fine if you put some effort into it,"

I smiled as I felt the heat rising from my chest to my face.

"Wow, Mom," he laughed. "I'll get you for that one."

"Is that a promise?"

I flirted! What the hell was I doing? My own son sat across the kitchen table complaining that his uncomfortably hard cock was somehow my fault and what did I do? I smiled and teased him. As this thought was sinking in I felt it... that familiar tingle. I could feel the heat rising from my neckline. He glanced between the folds of my fluffy collar and we both knew I was blushing horribly. My fair skin is a dead give-away at times like this.

I really needed to stop tingling at that point because I wasn't wearing any panties. Andrew's knowing smile only made matters worse. I wondered how hard my son's cock would get if he saw a droplet of his mom's pussy juice running down the inside of her leg.

I instinctively crossed my legs without thinking about how my robe would fall off of my thighs and draw another shameless glance. We really had blurred some lines together and maybe it should have bothered me but it didn't.

With one knee over the other, I found myself squeezing the delicious pressure between my legs. It was the kind of swollen sensation that's probably too slight to see but can definitely be felt. I know that squeezing a wet pussy can have consequences.

So I ran away... basically. I stood and, without adjusting my cover-up, leaned forward to kiss his forehead as he stole a close-up peek down the front of my robe. All I could do was give him a raised eyebrow and retreat to my bedroom. How many times has that happened? How long had I been teasing him and been so totally oblivious?

As I hung my robe on the back of my bathroom door I caught myself in the mirror. Blushing confirmed!

What did Andrew see when he looked at me? ...a 37 year-old woman of fairly obvious Irish, auburn hair, green eyes, fair complexion, fairly short, and fairly curvy. I've always loved my skin and I was buying sunscreen way before it became popular. I've always been one of the cute girls, one of the adorable girls, but I could probably count the number of times I been called gorgeous on one hand.

I looked down at my breasts and was struck by the flushed pinkness of my upper chest as I wondered what was going through my son's head. Hard-ons? Because of me?

My fingers wandered to the inside of my thighs and I bought the scent to my nose before rinsing my hands in the sink. I love the smell. I always have.

I wanted to relax and be done with the indecent feelings that were racing through me. Almost like I was on auto-pilot, I threw myself on the bed and rolled over toward the bottom drawer of the opposite nightstand to retrieve my relief. I've never owned a huge vibrator or dildo so my relief was smallish and pink with a little rabbit that nuzzles against my clit. I think it's crazy to do thousands of Kegel exercises and then ruin yourself with an over-sized piece of black plastic but that's just me. It's been close to three years since a man has been able to appreciate the effort but life can turn on a dime, right?

I been going the a bit of a dry spell as far as men are concerned but I can honestly say I've never intentionally fantasized about Andrew. The real catch is that mental pictures and imaginings have to exist before you can be chase them out of your head. So, I guess I really can't say, 'I never'. He's got his father's good looks so at least I can prove that tall, dark and handsome was my preference well before I gave birth to him. The truth is he's a good looking kid and I'm not blind,

I'm not proud of it but it was an unwelcome thought of Andrew that finally pushed me over the edge. I wondered if watching me use my toy on myself would make my son agonizingly hard. The entire thought lasted a fraction of second but that's all it took. With my eyes tightly closed I saw him showing me his aching hardness and I climaxed.

My son seemed to know exactly when I had finished fucking myself because he showed up only an instant after I closed the nightstand drawer on the sopping wet vibrator. He usually knocked and I usually remembered to lock my door so it was a close call. My heart was pounding in my chest but my relief washed over me and and I almost laughed out loud.

He stood in the doorway wearing the living room comforter over his head like child might and casually asked I wanted to watch a movie. It wasn't an unusual question because we had watched movies in my bedroom quite often through the years. I always feel asleep during the movie and he would tell me how it ended the next day. He used to crawl under the covers with me but, for last few years, the comforter from the sofa joined us on movie nights.

"Sure, but don't you have a little problem you need to get a grip on?"

I cannot fucking believe I said that!

"Seriously?" he laughed. "I thought you wanted to change the subject."

"OK, pick a movie... something I've seen before or you better take good notes. It's been a day."

He dropped onto the bed next to me and then continued moving. Rolling toward and onto an elbow, he extended his other arm over me. He made no pretense of brushing his forearm over my sheet-covered breasts as he grabbed the remote off of the same nightstand that hid my warm and wet vibrator.

As I laid there in my own wet spot with nothing but a thin sheet protecting my modesty I wondered if he knew I had just pleasured myself. Was my door even closed? I couldn't be certain but I did know that the thought of him shamelessly watching me with his hard penis on display had made me cum. Did he feel how hard my puffy nipples were when he reached over me? I looked down and was relieved to see that my tender tips didn't show through the sheet. Mine have always gotten a puffy type of hard and really round when I get lusty rather than becoming pointy. Lucky me, right? Then the most terrifying thought struck me... could he smell me? Could he smell his own mother's freshly fucked pussy? I took a slow breath and realized the whole room reeked of my sex. I looked over and immediately noticed the comforter was bunched up and covering his crotch. And again, I tingled.

My son is a typical male in many ways so it takes him forever to choose a movie. Just pick one, right? He was still flipping through the library of movies we had available on-line when I fell asleep. It wasn't the first time that had happened.

When I woke up the room was dark but for the little screensaver icon that bounced around on the black TV screen. My first memory of waking was of movement on the bed, as if Andrew were getting up to leave or maybe returning from the bathroom. I noticed three things all at once... the sheet was blocking my view of the screen, my son was under the sheet with his feet jutting out over his side of the bed, and his face was right over my bare pussy.

I was frozen! I swear I couldn't wrap my mind around it.

I only barely remembered to breathe.

Then the make-shift tent lit up like a pup tent at a camp-out and Andrew's silhouette shown through the sheet. He was using the flashlight app on his cell phone to have a humiliatingly close look at my naked (and shaven) crotch. My impulse to scream and push him away was there but quickly followed by fear, fascination, an unbelievable rush of excitement, ...and the tingle.

Way more than a tingle! My pussy went from asleep to electrified is a single breath. My whole body was vibrating and I could feel intense heat flooding toward and inflaming my crotch. I began wondering if my pussy could be trusted to keep my secret or would it betray me and prove I was aware of him. I had no hope of controlling my pouting, swollen redness or the glistening wetness that might part my pussy lips... He was watching and I could feel myself changing for him. My knees were close together and that was really my only hope.

I tried to play it all out in my mind but my thoughts and feelings were racing around in circles and chasing each other in and out of my head. It felt like an eternity but it was probably only a half second before I decided to stay frozen and be 'asleep'. He would look for a while and at some point he'd stop looking, right? The only thing I knew for sure is that I wanted a future where I could pretend none of it had ever happened and I was terrified of the scene that would become a memory for us both if I "woke up".

Then I heard it... and I heard it again... seven, maybe eight times.

Click-click!

Andrew was taking pictures of me! Pictures so close! The artificial 'click-clicks' were almost unbearable, each one louder and more highly charged than the one before. So close! Fuck! I hadn't left the bed since I fucked myself with the toy ... there would be evidence, maybe... dried girly cum on my pussy and thighs, maybe. My shock was replaced by crushing humiliation.

I had not felt embarrassed until that instant. How can that be?

The click-clicking stopped and, to my horror, my son lowered his head and inhaled deeply through his nose. The second time he must have pursed his lips when he exhaled because I felt him... blowing gently on my sex as if he were trying to cool something that was too hot for his mouth. I shuddered and he froze. It seemed like an eternity before either of us moved but I was determined I would not "wake up". I was telling myself to hold still and breath normally. It be OK, right?. People startle in their sleep all the time, right? Stay asleep!

Second? Minutes? Oh my god, how long?

Andrew finally moved first and, as my eyes became accustomed to the low light of the bouncing and blinking screensaver, I watched my son's hand emerge from the under the sheet and begin to rub his thigh through his jeans. The lighting wasn't good but his hand seemed considerably closer to me than his leg and I was left wondering about the size of his cock as he massaged himself and hyperventilated inside his little pussy scented tent

I was on fire. I watched him stroke the length of what had to be his fully-erect cock through his thread-bare jeans. What did his eyes see under the sheet? I felt as if I was opening up for him. I have always shaved my pussy so there was nothing else there... nothing to hide my swollen labia and hardening clit. I could feel my hot wetness running down the crack of my ass. I tried but I could do nothing to stop my primal reaction... his eyes, the pictures, his hot breath on my pussy, and his increasingly desperate need to jack himself off... I felt so swollen down there, warmth bordering on actual heat, and so wet... wetter than I would have believed possible considering that he hadn't even touched me.

I gave up trying to control all the girly parts that were betraying me in every possible way and focused on my son and the way he was stroking his obscene hardness. I actually wished for more light as his movements became more feverish. I knew he would cum soon. The thrill of it was actually agonizing. When I saw my right breast bobbing up and down between myself and my son's cock I became aware of just how rapid and shallow my breathing had become.

He groaned. I'll never forget how quietly he did it and how the sound seemed to come from the deepest place imaginable. His body became tense and his whole frame jerked slightly. I flinched but Andrew was in the most mindless throws of his orgasm and he didn't seem to notice my involuntary movement. I held my breath as he continued to cum and, slowly, in the dim light of a screensaver and the tiny tent, the faded denim under the blurring motion of his hand became darker.

My pussy involuntarily clenched down on it's own emptiness... twice... and again, a third time.

For the first (and only) time in my life I had an full-blown orgasm while laying perfectly still and untouched. It came out of nowhere and seized my mind, body and spirit. I was racked with waves of the most intensely orgasmic bliss imaginable. My struggle to hold still only seemed to add gasoline to the fire and I was terrified it was going to be more than I could bear. I'm sure I squirted a little.

Mercifully, Andrew's breath-taking orgasm began to let go of him and I felt the last spasm of my pussy, the warm fluid gushing from me and flowing down between my legs. I heard my son's breath catch as his body tensed up again and I knew the last drops of his seed were shooting into his jeans ...such a waste.

I had an orgasm! ...an incredibly delicious one! What the fuck?

I wondered how quickly he could recover. His hand disappeared under the sheet and my hand actually moved slightly. Incoherently, I reached toward the shining fabric that covered the obscene bulge on his thigh but stopped short, dropping my arm onto the bed. Andrew was moving again. He backed his way out of my pussy tent and stood, leaving the sheet laying across my tummy. I could feel him looking at me as he adjusted himself. His gaze burned especially hot on my exposed tits and swollen nipples.

He took more pictures. Click-click! Click-click! He used the flash on his phone's camera and so I moved a little each time the bright light filled the room, like a child that doesn't want to wake up. I knew exactly what I was doing and I turned and twisted to pose for each of his perverted pictures. I can't say I'm a great actress and the charade both excited and terrified me so I faked a big yawn and I settled back into my pillow with a wistful, humming moan.

My son had taken advantage of me as I slept.

And I had reacted like a cum-crazed slut.

He lingered. I knew he was using this last moment to burn another forbidden image of his cock-hardening mother into his memory. My treacherous pussy was tingling again. Then he reached down and slowly pulled the sheet up to cover my breasts. The smooth material teased my puffy nipples and I felt my untouched pussy spasm again, more gently than before but somehow more deliciously. When he finally left I felt so intensely alone that I almost cried. I had barely moved a muscle and yet I was completely exhausted. Totally and utterly spent!

How quickly could he recover? What the fuck!?

Oh my god! I had wanted that! I had wanted his cock hard for me again only seconds after he came. It was pointless to ask 'why?' because the answer was obvious. I had wanted Andrew to get hard again for the same reasons any woman lusts after a man's hardness. It had been a fleeting thought but there's no denying that I was the one thinking it.

My sex twitched again because my little boy wasn't there anymore... my Andrew was in the house and I knew what he wanted.

He wanted his mommy

I pulled my vibrator out of the nightstand. I plunged it into the aching wetness of my traitorous pussy and fucked myself into mindless oblivion. My imagination replayed everything. I swam in my shame, my humiliation, my pride, and my filthy arousal.

I slept and obscene dreams tormented and teased me.

In the morning's light reality crashed down on me and I wondered if I was learning what a panic attack felt like. I could hear Andrew in the shower down the hall and, later, down in the kitchen making coffee. I lingered in my bedroom for way too long trying to find the one thought that would lead me to a sane course of action... to a path around it all...or through it, maybe. When I heard his feet on the stairs it came to me. I was the parent and whatever happened next I would control it. I was his mother and I would be the one that decided. I was 'asleep' and he'll never act like I wasn't, right? As he got closer to my bedroom door and I ran to my bathroom, locked the door, and turned on the shower. I just needed some time.

I instinctively ran my bare hands over myself from my neck, over my breasts, and down to my crotch as the warm water struck my chest. The evidence was soon gone. I felt it rinsing away under my fingers.

As the hot water washed over me I knew what I'd say to my son. It was so simple! I'd go downstairs, get a cup of coffee, and ask him to tell me how the movie ended.

"Fuck!"

I had to step out at some point and get a fresh razor from the cabinet.

[Fade to Black]