Paul and I were surprised by my pregnancy. We had tried for years and finally decided it wasn't meant to be. At 38, I was a bit long in the tooth to be having a child but we took it in stride and looked forward to having a toddler around the house. The years passed happily, but misfortune struck our close-knit threesome when Paul passed away when Mike was only 12. I have always felt fortunate that Mike was old enough to remember his father, the fun they used to have, and the things Paul was able to teach him about farming, hunting and life in general before he left us. Unfortunately, he missed the birds-n-the-bees talk.
Mike grew to be a strapping young man, well respected around the country area of farming communities centered on the town of Washington, North Carolina. With the help of Winston, our foreman for over 40 years, Mike had become a good farmer that his father would have been proud of.
Now Winston was a black man with a wife and four children. When hired he was single, a tall handsome fellow. After a few years he brought home a pretty young girl 17 years younger than his 35yrs. We arranged for his own rather large, but old, house about a mile from our house - a very large and modern for the time clapboard - white with maroon shutters. The old house was Paul's parent's home and we felt it to be a good marriage gift.
Winston was a good man and was there when I needed him after Paul passed away. It took time - sadly only about 2 months - but Winston also had what I needed between his legs. A woman in my predicament and desires had few choices and a farm can, and did, become a lonely place. Ohh! We were careful, meeting way back on the farm in a run down old barn where much of the old, seldom use equipment was stored.
That's where I seduced him. I mentioned how we might sell some of the old stuff for scrap, having him meet me there one morning after the kids had caught the school bus.
It was amazingly easy. I knew it would be. Telling him how much help he had been since my husband's passing, how much I needed him, bending over a few times examining rusted metal and getting close to him to allow him to catch my scent, was all that was required. Well almost!
"Mrs. Mornington, you are making me very uncomfortable." He mumbled nervously as I stood close looking up at him.
"I can see that, Winston." I said shyly, glancing down at the bulge in his jean overalls. "Molly would no doubt make you quite comfortable if she was not way up at the house busy with her chores. Some things need to be taking care of right away. Wouldn't you agree. May I see the problem?"
Winston had a good cock and he screwed me good on that block of hay and like a good lover he kept his mouth shut. We screwed once a week, usually a Wednesday. He taught me some new and interesting ways to do it and I took his joy-juice contently, knowing there was no fear any more of pregnancy. When Mike was born I had the doc take care of that problem.
Life was good and on even keel for years. I missed Paul desperately but life is what it is and had to go on without him. The farm was running like a well oiled machine, I was getting what I needed sexually, and Mike, at 22, was beginning to wrestle control of daily decisions from Winston. Winston resisted, naturally, but a little extra pussy smoothed things over nicely. I never had to remind him who was boss.
Mike's happiness was always on my mind. As with all farms, there is considerable distance between young males and females. Mike had girl-friends but not a girlfriend. Of late, it seemed to keep him in a constant state of worry and depression.
I had years earlier found his socks to be stiff when collecting them for wash. It assured me that he was taking care of business himself. I knew eventually the right girl would come along, but I hated to see Mike worry about something that was bound to work itself out eventually.
Even a good life is full of turmoil and such was the case when Winston did not show up for lunch. Out looking for him, his wife, Molly, found him lying beside the still running tractor - dead of a massive heart attack.
Mike proved himself up to the challenge of running the farm entirely on his own. With my blessing, he allowed Winston's family to continue living on our farm as his two boys had begun working beside their father years earlier and were more than able, and willing, to stay on.
I'm 60 now. Winston, now deceased, had been near 70. We had slowed our meetings to about every 10 days. I was always biting at the bit for IT, but because of his years if his cock would not stay hard he would bring me to orgasm orally. Because of my age, I can't really say I was desperate but when something is not available it makes you feel desperate. Not having a male companion at the ready caused things of such nature to fall back on me and I was never that good at self indulgence. Nighttime was a time of depression and crying, especially those times I tried, and failed, to finger myself to orgasm. It was one such time the other night.
I heard the tap on my door, it cracking open, and Mike whispering was I awake. I was tempted not to answer but I was still sniffling and trying to control my crying and emotions. I had tried for near an hour to finger myself to orgasm and I was in bad shape.
"Yes. I'm still awake. What do you want Mike?" I said a bit more sternly than intended.
"I heard you crying, mom." He said with concern. "It's 4 o'clock. Haven't you gotten any sleep all?"
My son had walked to the edge of the bed and I could feel him staring down at me in the darkness. 6 o'clock would be here soon, I thought, it is going to be a long day.
"Come join me in give your mama a hug." I said, lifting the bedding up in offering. He climbed in and snuggled up close to me. "It has been years since we have cuddled in bed. Your dad put a stop to it when you were about 16. Said it wasn't proper."
"I feel so bad because you are unhappy. I know you must miss dad but is there anything else making you so unhappy?"
"A woman just needs to cry sometimes." I said in a comforting tone. "With you here with me I'm fine now. Stay here until I am a sleep." I drifted off very much aware of his erection against my thigh.
I was drawn from my slumber by the feeling of something moving between my legs. I became aware that my son was still at my side, my arm still around his shoulders embracing him. Then came the realization that it was his hand between my legs, his fingers toying with my panty-protected pussy. I will leave it to the reader to decide whether it was fortunate, or unfortunate, that at that second his middle finger was stroking just the right place.
"Right there." I whispered softly. "Right there!"
I tried to drift off to sleep again. I was soon aware of my increased breathing and my body trembling slightly. I kept my eyes closed not wanting anything to break the moment, hoping it was a dream.
I pondered what had happened to make my son be so bold. I was still pretty certain he had never been with a girl which made it somewhat amazing. That I was his mother added even more to the mystery. I prayed it was a dream.
I had been an attractive woman with a good proportioned body when I became pregnant with Mike. After giving birth, through my 40s and 50s, I fought with a weight problem. I am 5' 10", and would be considered big boned now rather than slim. I have a pudgy belly and waist sag. My strawberry blonde hair I keep short and curly - easy to take care of. My ass is now broad and meaty and my thighs touch near my crotch. To my credit, I suppose, my skin is milky white and smooth, my breast ample with only a bit of sag with large tall nipples. My mound is no longer covered by lavish strawberry blonde pubic hair and I know my pussy no longer retains its tightness, appearing angry due to its redness contrasted against my milky white thighs.
Still, I pondered what had caused my son to want to ravish me - it sure as hell wasn't my looks. When he sees me naked in the light, I thought, he may be dismayed. Or, did he just see me as easy pickings in a wasteland of farms with little recourse if I shied and put him in his place.
I finally came to terms that I was not dreaming and that I was not going to scowl him. I let him know I was awake by reaching with my left hand to pull down my nightgown, exposing my right breast and offering it to him. He latched onto my nipple hungrily. I returned to my now faked passive sleep. I had acknowledged and granted his trespass. I was, for long minutes, content to let him play.
He left my crotch numerous times to rub and squeeze my available ass, legs and thighs, belly and mount, always returning to my crotch.
I hated to move but I wanted desperately to have IT in my hand. I reached for IT, and again, fortunately, or unfortunately, I found it easily accessible, already having been pulled through the pee flap of his briefs. I felt his body stiffen. His finger shifted and I felt anxiety building. My arousal instantly diminished and simmered just under the surface, I considered calling a halt to the madness. Instead, I directed my attention to toying and tugging his cock as he nudged against my thigh, lifting his leg across my leg. His midsection began a natural thrust against my thigh. My nipple was rock hard, his firm suckling sending electric jolts through me.
