Through church I met a lady who was very similar to myself - finding herself lonely in a marriage she turned to her own step-son to provide her sexual gratification. She was very pretty, very sexy and particularly busty. Watching her seated at church with her young stud, it was clear from the way that he glared at her chest that there was more than a mother/son relationship occurring between them. Getting to know her rather well we eventually shared our stories of how we had each come to take our step-sons as our lovers. Like myself, she had found the courage to take the situation into her own hands and actively seduce her son. And like myself, she ended up being compelled to become a submissive sex toy for him. Below I record her story, through her words. Names have been changed to protect the identities of the wicked.
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I married my husband quite a few years ago, my first marriage, his second. He had a son already from his first marriage. I turned 40 last year, while my husband has entered his 50's. Our married sexual life had been active when we were younger, but once he turned 50 he then soon developed 'old man dick', meaning he could have sex, but that his dick never got fully hard anymore. He also largely lost interest in sex. Our sex life therefore became very infrequent and vanilla when it occurred at all. Being rather disappointing with the situation and still filled with sexual desires and needs, without any conscience intention I found myself deeply drawn to his strong young son.
Harold was 23 then and still lived with us at home. He is a handsome boy with huge muscles who spends lots of time pressing weights on his weight set in our basement. I have to admit that for years now I would deliberately go down into the basement when he was working out, making any excuse to see him in only his tight shorts. My nipples would stiffen and my pussy would melt as I made small talk with him, carefully concealing my gawking at his flexing pecs, rock hard abs and glutes, and at the large bulge in the front of his pants. I imagined him as the type who conquered and subjugated women, rather than made love to them. And as the years passed I soon found myself deeply desiring to be his next conquest.
To start, let me tell you a bit about myself. I had a number of boyfriends over the years before I met my husband. But I never really found in a man what I was looking for sexually - a strong domineering man who would take control and use me roughly as they pleased. I am considered very pretty, even at my current age, with naturally long strawberry blonde hair, fine facial features, medium height, slender legs and a naturally generous god given bustline, which has remained relatively perky and firm despite my being a G cup. I settled for my husband as I saw that no better offers were coming my way and he was very wealthy and loved me dearly, so I agreed to be his bride. But he never stirred my passions the way that a husband should. Fortunately he had a son who I knew would be up to the task.
A day came where my husband was leaving on a business trip for a few days, and so I decided to make my move then and there. As soon as my husband was gone I called Harold up from the basement, saying that supper would soon be ready. I greeted him at the top of the stairs with a beer in my hand for him. He wore a T-shirt and a pair of tight shorts. The smell of his sweat immediately turned by pussy to jelly. I had deliberately worn a short thin skirt that ended closer to my crotch than my knees, bikini panties beneath that, a lacey push up bra that did not quite cover my areolas, a loose blouse covering my upper body with the top three buttons undone, high heels, enough make-up that I looked like I was heading out to a bar, and my hair hung loosely over my shoulders.
As he stood before me and took the beer from my hand, Harold made no effort to conceal the focus of the direction of his eyes onto my amply exposed cleavage. I pretended not to notice and let him feast his eyes on my flesh as he pleased. Turning I walked back toward the kitchen, letting my hips sway enough that I was sure his eyes were locked onto my bare legs and swaying ass. That was a good start, I thought. Bringing him another beer sometime later as he sat in the living room I leaned over to hand him the beer, letting my breasts dangle before his eyes. I hoped that with the lighting and angle that he was able to catch a glimpse of the exposed portions of my light brown areolas or notice that my nipples were rock hard beneath the bra.
Then turning around and saying I would fetch him the remote so that he could watch some sports while I finished cooking I deliberately knocked the remote control off of the coffee table. Saying that I was suck a silly girl, I bent over deeply to pick up the remote. From having practiced this move in the mirror beforehand, I knew that the full length of my bare legs was open to his view, as well as the bottom of my exposed ass cheeks. Handing him the remote and returning to the kitchen, I knew that I now had his attention.
Shortly thereafter I told Harold that dinner was ready and brought him his plate and another drink to the table. Waving my hand before my face I said that the kitchen was so hot that I was overheating and as he watched I undid another button of my blouse. Fluffing the material to move some air over my heated chest I returned to the kitchen to fetch my own plate and glass of wine. I stumbled a little coming in, explained that I liked to have some wine while I prepared dinner and might have overdone it a bit this night. As we sat and ate across from one another Harold's eyes remained pretty much transfixed throughout the meal upon my chest. I would regularly ruffle my blouse to the point that it made my tits jiggle, exclaiming that it was still so hot in the house, to ensure that his eyes never lost interest in staring at my boobs.
Removing the plates and telling Harold to go watch more TV while I fetched him another drink I returned to the living room and sat directly beside him, handing him his fresh drink while I sipped on my own topped up glass of wine. Making it clear that I was more than tipsy by swaying when I walked and slurring when I spoke, I also adjusted my cloths further to compensate for the heat in the room.
Unbuttoning one more of my blouse buttons I also tugged upward on my skirt to expose more of my bare legs. Harold simply stared at my flesh, ignoring the TV completely. I pretended not to notice and eagerly provided him with an ample view of both my chest and thighs. When he got up to go to the bathroom I opened my top and raised my skirt and spread my legs further, making sure that my panties would be visible when he re-entered the room and that from the side he would be able to clearly see my bra, hard nipple and exposed areola.
Upon returning he stopped and stared up between my legs. I knew that he could see my panties and pretending to be looking in another direction I casually scratched at my upper thigh as he approached, spreading my legs slightly wider for him. Sitting backdown beside me and looking over, he saw that only the last button of my blouse remained secured and I knew that he could see my almost exposed breast, only slightly covered by the lacey bra. Teasing and arousing him this way for some time, I then looked up at him and said that I was getting drunk and should head off to bed now.
