I returned home around 6 p.m. to find Ben in the downstairs shower. His gym clothes were strewn in front of the bathroom door indicating he had just come from a workout.
My normal routine on any would be to come home, change out of my work clothes and into my night clothes, and then prepare dinner, clean up, etc. As I listened to the shower running in the downstairs bathroom my mind raced with thoughts of what had occurred just last night. I decided that Ben might interpret me changing into me sleeping attire as an invitation for more 'activity between mother and son'. I was certain, that above all else, my son did not need any encouragement from me. I decided to keep my work clothes on. I felt that my work clothes could serve as a barrier of sorts to a repeat of the previous night's mistakes.
I was wearing a blue, sleeveless print dress with a pleated skirt that reached a few inches below my knees. While form fitting, and flattering to my petite figure, the dress was not overly revealing or inappropriate. It was a dress that I was comfortable wearing to work. Since I am on the short side, somewhere between 5 ft 3 inches and 5 ft 4 inches, I sometimes struggle to be taken seriously by my six foot tall male co-workers. In an attempt to 'level the playing field' somewhat, I regularly wear heels. Today I wore dress boots that came up above my calf and had 3" heels. They were not spiked heels, but they did make standing for extended period of time somewhat uncomfortable. The heels also had the effect of making my cute, round little bottom stand out quite nicely under my dress.
I was at the kitchen sink, cleaning up the previous night's dishes when I heard Ben come out of the bathroom and come into the kitchen. I glanced over my shoulder to see he was wearing only a bath towel wrapped around his waist.
"Hi beautiful" he chirped as he walked up behind me, hugging me from behind and reaching around to cup my right breast. I tensed up and tried to push his hand from my breast; I certainly did not want to resume the petting and touching that had led to my totally inappropriate behavior last night. But he was too strong and I was not going to remove his hand without his full cooperation,
"Ben, we made a bad mistake last night. I made a bad mistake last night. I take full responsibility. Not only am I the adult, I am your mother. I should never have allowed any of that to happen. I don't know if you can forgive me or not..."
Ben interrupted, "It was not a mistake, it was a beautiful thing. It was the most beautiful thing that has ever happened to me. Please do not say 'it was a mistake'. It hurts me to think you do not think what we shared was as beautiful as I do."
"Ben, it was wrong. It was illegal. And I should not have let it happen. You are still a child. I should have had better judgment, better self control."
"Mom, you are wrong. It was a beautiful. And I am not a child; I am an adult. I will be 20 in two months. I am old enough to vote; I am old enough to serve in the military, I am certainly old enough to know who I want for my sexual partner; and I want you. I have for many years."
The last statement sent me searching for a response. "Ben, I am flattered, and I understand your confusion. I am quite confused myself. But what we did, what I did last night is wrong by any measure."
I was standing with my back to my son as I spoke, ashamed. I did not turn to face him. I was ashamed of my behavior and I unable to look him in the eye at this moment. But Ben wanted to look into my eyes as he spoke. He took my hand and turned me to face him, and said, "I need to show you something."
He stood back one step, and then he removed his towel, dropping it to the floor. He stood there naked in front of me. He was obviously quite emboldened from his success last night. He had a confident, 'don't take no for an answer' demeanor about him. It was strangely appealing. Since he was my son, it was also very wrong, but it was definitely appealing.
My son was a fine specimen of a man. He had a fine physique and a large, impressive penis that hung 5 or 6 inches flaccid between his legs. I tried not to stare at his naked frame.
"What on earth do you 'need to show me'?" trying to react appropriately, whatever that would mean. But after the mistakes of last night, I questioned if there anything I could do going forward that would be appropriate?
"Watch" he said, and his penis began to grow slowly in front of my very eyes. At first I could not believe what I was seeing, but yes, it was actually happening. Slowly, standing there naked in front of me, my 19 year old son was growing erect, pulse by pulse, throb by throb. I had never seem a man grow hard with no physical contact before. I watched in silent amazement. Ben was not stroking himself hard, he was simply growing erect.
After about 45 seconds, he was half way erect, poking straight out, about six inches in length. "How are you doing that?" my voice cracked slightly in obvious excitement and amazement.
"I am thinking about you. I am thinking about touching you last night. I am thinking about what you did for me last night. I am thinking about how much I want you, need you...and I am thinking about what I am going to do to you tonight."
I was awe struck. I stared at his penis which was now about three quarters erect, and I suddenly became aware of my pulse in my own groin. I could feel my clitoris growing erect, and my pussy starting to leak into my panties. "Ben, we can't..."
He cut me off mid-sentence, "Mom, this is the effect you have on me. If I react this way just thinking about you, this cannot be wrong. My body would not react this way if it was wrong." He reasoned. "Tell me that you do not have the same feelings. Tell me you are not having the same reaction right now."
I did not know what to do or say; I did not want to lie and deny the fact that I was growing aroused too. So I simply repeated myself, "We can't. This is wrong." But I continued to stare at the amazing sight growing longer and more rigid between my son's thighs.
Ben approached me, his penis swinging proudly with each step he took. He knelt down directly in front of me. By now he had a full erection, he was every bit as hard and large as he was last night in my mouth, and he was pointing direct to the ceiling. Kneeling in front of me, he began to reach up under my dress. I stopped him, held his hands, and asked, "what are you doing?"
"I want to see something. If you do not react to me the way I react to you, I will agree to leave you alone. But I think I have the same effect on you that you do on me."
I stood there for 30 to 45 seconds, frozen, holding his hands and preventing the assault under my dress. I honestly was trying to garner the strength to resist. I wanted to be a good mother and not succumb again.
After remain motionless and silent for nearly a minute, holding his hands in place, I relented. I do not know why, but I released his hands and stood there eyes closed, not knowing what to do, and not understanding what was happening or why. Not really thinking I had the strength or power to do anything other than to comply.