This last week has been like a whirlwind for me as I'm sure it has for my son Paul. It's hard to believe it's only be a week since the first time we made love! I've enjoyed everything that's happened between Paul and myself and now it appears Tom, my husband of twenty years is about to join in the fun.
In the twenty two years we've been together, Tom and I have never been what you might call an adventurous couple in bed. I guess when we first met we were a little reckless but since then we've rarely 'done it' anywhere but in our bed and nine times out of ten it will be the good old missionary position. If I was feeling particularly frisky, I'd go on top but that's as exciting as it ever got for us.
Paul, my son, however has proven to be the lover I've dreamed of for most of my life. I know he cares for me as deeply as I care for him but when he uses me, when he treats me with almost total indifference it initiates responses in me which seem to emanate from the very centre of my soul. Last Sunday for instance when we were walking on a the beach, without a word he pushed me over a smooth rock and fucked me seemingly with out any care for my feelings. I came almost continually as he rammed into me, loving the hardness of the rock against my soft body.
On another occasion he'd come home for collage, after I'd stripped for him as he's told me I have to, something else which stimulates me to my very core, I asked like he's also said I should, if he'd like to fuck me. Again, just like the time on the beach he pushed me down onto the kitchen table without a word and fucked me hard and fast. He's mentioned both those times to you but I don't think he mentioned that he'd pushed my face into half a box of eggs or that there was flour and scraps of pastry all over the tabletop! Not exactly good clean fun but boy oh boy did it hit the spot.
As much as I enjoy him using me and for that matter making love to me in a more conventional way, he knows I'd like him to use even more force than he has. Since I was a young girl I've often dreamt of being beaten. At first my fantasies revolved around being spanked on my bum while laying across someone's lap. But over the years they've evolved to the point where I'm beginning to wonder if there could be something wrong with me. Yet the thrill I get from these fantasies is beyond description.
But enough of all that, you want to know what happened this evening. I'd been out with my sister and only just got back when Paul called from his room. When I went up to see him he told me to remove my clothes, it gave me such a thrill, the way he ignored me completely, first as I undressed and then as he made me wait while he finished reading, seemingly oblivious to my nakedness. I took the time to adopt as submissive a stance as I could, hoping he would want to fuck me. All the time I'd been out, I'd hoped we would have some 'alone time' when I got back.
But instead of using me he told me about the conversation he'd had with his father. At first I was worried Tom would make us stop. But as he told me all about James and Jane, I knew as much as we'd enjoyed the last week, what we had was suddenly going to get even better.
But I've a feeling you know all this, I just wanted to reassure you that I gain as much pleasure from his almost brutal acts as he must. Paul I believe left off our story just as Tom was due back from the driving range. He had told me to wear an almost sheer top, one I've never worn without a bra and vest, together with my short tennis skirt. Do you need me to tell you how exposed I felt wearing so little? Although I'm used to Paul seeing me in so little; it was the thought of Tom seeing me like this, in our kitchen with Paul present which was giving me butterflies.
Getting our dinner ready helped take my mind off the coming evening, for as long as ten seconds at times, but always the fact that I was to all intents and purposes naked never escaped me for long. When Paul came in to watch me it actually calmed me a little, the barely concealed hunger in his eyes gave me a very warm feeling. I could tell he was feeling the same as I was when he spent the next ten minutes channel hopping on the telly.
At six, as Paul had said, Tom came back. The look on his face was priceless as he caught sight of me. The way he stopped mid sentence, I almost burst out in laughter I was so happy. During the meal Paul and I chatted as if nothing was untoward but Tom who hadn't quite got into the game, ate most of his meal in silence. That he was aroused was obvious to me though.
Once the meal was finished Paul wasted no time in assuming the role of James, Tom's college room mate, which for this evening at least meant I was to be Jane. As I began to clear the table, Paul told me to leave them before turning to his father and saying, Tom would do it.
There was the merest pause before Tom rose from his seat to do as he was told. As he began to clear the plates both Paul and I let out our pent up breath, we both knew it had been a pivotal moment. Once Tom had begun to pick up the plates I said,
'James it's so good to see you again.'
'It's good to see you again Jane.' Paul replied. 'How's Tom been looking after you?'
'Tom looks after me very well thank you.'
