All characters in sexual situations are 18 or older. Thanks for reading!
My escapades with my eighteen-year-old son were gathering speed. The train had left the station, and I could see the final destination. Before I'd watched him hump Gwen, I might have escaped my fate. But now, I couldn't get the memory of the power and animalistic savagery of his mating out of my mind. Every time I closed my eyes, I'd see his long cock digging into his girlfriend's pussy. The morning after my spying, I sent the men off to school and work. I had chores to do, but shirked my responsibilities. Instead, I spent the day with my new dildo, and it was good. But it wasn't him. My frustration had ebbed over the last few days. I was somewhat satisfied with the dildo and my other dirty deeds. But my wants and needs had expanded. My libido seemed to be moving the goalposts on me.
Christopher had looked at my womanly assets in a way he didn't eye Gwen's tight, eighteen-year-old body. I wanted to give him everything. I wanted to flip that switch for him. Not his silly girlfriend. As I worked myself to another orgasm with that dildo, the thought hit me hard. I was going to have sex with my son. And there was nothing anyone could do to stop it.
~~
Afternoon came, and I went down to the basement to listen through the wall. They were in Christopher's room humping away. I could hear Gwen squeaking with every impact. I wondered if she was going to have
the flood
again. So that was why the sneaky guy had been doing his own laundry. I thought he'd been trying to hide his cum. Any normal teenager stains his sheets, and most don't want their mother finding out. But it was her cum that was the real problem. I giggled as I listened to them, thinking how surprised they must have been the first time he'd done that to her. Would he do that to me? I certainly hadn't ever gushed like that before.
Leaning my back up against the wall, I slid my dildo under my dress. In the short time I'd had the thing, I was getting to know it very well. A heavy percussion started in Christopher's room. I could feel the vibration through the wall. He was really giving it to her. What was he thinking as he looked down at that skinny woman? Did he want something more to shake and bounce against what sounded like violent pounding? The dildo spread me out and I gasped. I was already not as tight as I used to be. What would Christopher do to my vagina with his larger cock?
The first time I'd heard those teenagers going at it, I was shocked. Maybe even a bit scandalized. But now ... now ... now I wanted to be one of them. To go back to those carefree days when pleasure wasn't competing with all of life's other pursuits. In those days, I could smile at a cute boy, go for a ride in his car, and give myself over to the joys of discovery and passion. These days, I had to clean, and shop, and cook, and tend to Carl's needs. I was still his wife, but I just wanted to forget that fact for a little while. "Oh, shit ... sweetie ... you're so big," I whispered to an imaginary Christopher. The thumping on the other side of the wall built to a crescendo. Gwen screamed constantly. Christopher's deep grunting just barely made it into the mechanical room.
Was he wearing a condom this time? Oh, Jesus, he could be knocking up his girlfriend right now. I prayed he had more sense than that. And then ... I prayed he didn't. I thought about that little bitch swelling with my grandchild inside her. I shouldn't want it, but I did. She would be his. All his. "Aaaaahhhhhhhhhh." I came right along with the teenagers. A few minutes later, I quietly left the mechanical room and headed upstairs.
~~
That night, I bit my nails sitting next to Carl on the sofa as we watched one of his shows. I couldn't focus on anything. I was so nervous.
I'm afraid I may have snapped at him when he asked if we should watch one more episode before bed. I just needed my husband asleep. I did apologize to him as we snuggled under the covers. I'm not a monster.
After a time, his breathing evened out and slowed. He was asleep. Very carefully, I climbed out of bed. I removed the t-shirt I slept in, and took off my panties. In the darkness, I padded over to the bathroom and put on a robe. I fished in the cabinet and pulled out one of Carl's condoms. He wouldn't miss one. The man was an organizational mess. He couldn't keep track of anything in our home if I didn't remind him. I stepped back into our room. The clock on his bedside table glowed. Goodness, he really had gone to bed late. It was already ten-thirty. I hoped Christopher had stayed up for me.
With nervous energy causing my legs to tremble, I made my way through the dark house. I breathed a sigh of relief when I got to the basement. A ribbon of light shone from under the door. He'd waited for me. How sweet. This was it. I was going to do it. I may not be a teenager, but I felt every bit like one in a moment so pregnant with anticipation and the possibility. I opened the door, stepped in, and closed it behind me.
"Oh, hey, Mom." Christopher lay on his bed, his phone in his hands. He looked up and smiled. If he noticed I was holding a condom, he didn't show it.
"What are you doing, sweetie?" I made my way to the side of the bed and crawled up next to him.
"Texting with Gwen." His eyes went a little wide. He'd noticed the condom. "Should I ... um ... tell her I'm busy?"
"No, Christopher, you can keep texting with your girlfriend." I stashed the condom in my pocket and pulled down his pajama bottoms. He wasn't wearing underwear. How delightful. His big guy was semi-hard and growing. I put my hand on it, doing my best to ignore the diamond on my finger. I could practically feel the life and vitality surging into his penis.
"Maybe ... um ... I should just catch up with her tomorrow." He started swiping at his screen.
"No ... Christopher ... apple of my eye ... keep texting her." I smiled broadly up at him, but kept an edge to my voice. "I want to see if you can concentrate on Gwen ... while I'm doing this." I pumped him with one hand. "Tell her that your mother came into your room, and that I'm really boring." The cock in my hand grew to a length that could accommodate two hands, so I obliged it and my right hand joined my left.
