The following is an epic saga of discovery and fruition between a man and a woman. The storyline and characters are entirely fictional. I encourage feedback as long as it is positive and encouraging.
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I read an interesting article last week in a national mental health magazine covering a recent case of a married couple in Florida. What caught my eye wasn't the fact that they were married, or living in the south, but how these two knew one another. Diving into the lengthy article, the details began to surface as to the length of their affair, and their seemingly odd ages. The woman was 42, and her mate was a strapping 20 year old man. Huffing to myself that this lady had the right idea, I continued reading the enjoyable article. I too had recently started back at dating; and at 39, I felt I was emotionally ready for a permanent and lasting relationship with Mr. Right. But of course, finding him was the insurmountable task at hand. I didn't like the singles scene at all, hated the 'get to know you' stage, and despised the introductory services that charged an unlawful amount to meet the 'one'. I had spent the last 15 years building my career as a Lawyer and raising my only child, Greg. I wasn't about to risk it all just for some idiot to come along and ruin. Yet my empty bed was becoming more and more a dreaded haven every night.
I didn't think I was that bad of a catch for any man. I had belonged to a local gym for almost two years now trying to rid myself of all that 'junk in the trunk', yet still had my naturally voluptuous frame. I only recently decided that I was personally content with being a larger sized woman. My 38-28-42 measurements held several curves for the right man to worship and admire. Frankly, I loved being a healthy sized lady. Since Greg and I live within 10 minutes of the beach, I could frequently tan to keep my golden hued skin as brown as possible. It also helped my naturally blonde hair looking as youthful as possible. With 40 approaching, I truly felt good about my looks. I honestly feel that no man really wants to bed a skeleton; for God's sake, we were meant to be curvy for all eyes to admire!!
Continuing on with the article, I became absorbed into how these two got along. They seemed the perfect couple... they knew each other in and out. Knew when the other needed an embrace, or could finish the other's sentence with just a glance. It was presented as the perfect relationship filled with the passion and zest I too was seeking in this vile world. But when I came to the part where these two met, I about vomited up my lunch. This romantic and fruitful romance involved a mother and her son. I honestly didn't know what to think. Setting aside the magazine in disgust, I went back to work since my lunch hour was just about up.
Luckily, I had no clients to meet with the rest of the afternoon. All I had left was some leftover paperwork on a case we just won, so my mind was pretty free to wonder the rest of the day. And yet, there I sat with continuous thoughts about this couple in Florida. Random thoughts would leap into my mind... "How could a Mother marry her own son?" Frustrated, I finally picked up the magazine and picked up where I left off. My curiosity was getting the best of me, and I had to find out more.
The article delved into their day to day relationship in every detail. When it came to their love life, I quickly called my secretary Patty to hold all calls for the rest of the day. Just thinking that I could have been disbarred for reading a romantic incest story in my office sent chills throughout my tense body. I hardly could believe it myself; here I was, a politically correct, professional woman getting turned on by how a Mother and son could make love together. But being the mild natured magazine it was, it left a lot for me to imagine and envision in my own mind. I had never considered something like this, let alone act on my taboo imaginations before, but before long I was locked away in my personal bathroom trying to compose myself. To say I was aroused was a terrible understatement... I wasn't only aroused, I was craving sex and bad.
It had been over 15 years since anyone had made love to me. There was a brief period where I explored my homosexual curiosities and dated a handful of lovely women, but nothing lasted long enough to build on. Masturbation and my friendly vibrator were my only means to feeling somewhat satisfied at this point in life. I was a free spirited woman, and could be quite the daring slut if I had set my mind to it... and tonight was going to be a night of quenching my budding curiosities.
I switched over the phones to voice mail at a quarter till 5pm, telling Patty I was leaving for the day. Flustered with myself, I made my way to my convertible to get away. I wasn't going nuts by any means, I just felt it was time to let my hair down and have some fun. I didn't know where I was going, but it certainly felt good not to know where my destination lie. I felt alive.
Stopping beside a news stand on Santa Monica, I got out and picked up a copy of the local 'beatnik' magazine, the ones where all those sex ads pollute the last few pages of it's floppy assembly. Even as I performed this mindless act, various thoughts and images of a passionate coupling between myself and a hunky man kept me breathless. I wanted to explore these desires the article triggered in me. A part of me wanted to break out in laughter at even considering a wild and taboo sex act with my own child. I tried to stop myself and maintain some sense of composure, but it was useless. All the thoughts and visions kept my mind going right back to square one... Gregory, my young and handsome son of just 20 years.
He was a strapping, dashing young man for his age. In his junior year of college at UCLA, he had come back home for the summer so he could train for the upcoming football season. He proudly stood at 6'3", weighing in at an awesome 230lbs. Since 17, Gregory made fitness his ultimate mantra by daily workouts and running. It was an amazing spectacle watching his once childish frame bulk up to a massive shrine of muscle and power. It made me proud to see him maintain excellent grades and make the starting line up every season. There was already talk on the campus that the NFL was keeping an eye on my tan, dark haired son. He seemed to be the perfect catch for any young damsel at UCLA, yet Gregory sparsely dated here and there, claiming that girls were only a distraction. He was just amazing to me. His proud, protruding chest that boiled with muscle... pecks that held a curvy, yet rigid texture... arms that could easily sweep a woman off her feet. And as taboo as it was, these images kept coming back into my mind's eye again and again.
I got back in the car, and told myself that if I just acted out these ideas, then perhaps these dreaded thoughts would go away. Rushing through the circular, I raced to the back section where all the local clubs were located. I knew that if I could find a person of passion and strength, then he could quench my taboo thirsts. I then decided that a gay bar might be a good place to start... If I wanted passion, then these types were for me. But how I was going to bed one would prove to be a challenge. I located what looked like a nice place (at least the ad looked somewhat classy), and quickly got on my way. My heart was almost out of my chest by this time thinking about what would happen and how. I hadn't done anything quite this spontaneous since college... and I was loving every moment of it.
My cell phone rang, breaking my concentration for the time being. Seeing it was my home phone number, I knew it was Gregory.
"Hey Mom, I called the office and Patty said you took off." said my ever courteous son.
"Yea, I had to get out of that damn office for a while." I replied, trying to keep my mind at bay while envisioning what he was wearing at the exact moment.
"Well I was wondering what you wanted for dinner." He added, always looking out for me as he had done since adolescence.
"I'm not gonna be home for a while tonight, Greggie." I said. "I've got some business to wrap up before I go to court tomorrow, so it could be a late night for me. Why don't you head out and get something, K?"
"Oh shit, Mom-- I was really hoping we could have that sit down dinner we've been talking about." he said.
My heart almost stopped right there. I wanted nothing more than to tell him I wanted him right then and there, but I hesitated. I knew I was acting irrational by this point, and hot steamy intercourse was all I could think about.
"Oh sweetie, I know. Let's make it for tomorrow night. I swear it, baby, okay?" I cooed back in a flirtatious, soothing voice. If anyone had bothered to translate that, it would have said 'I want us to make burning, passionate love all night tomorrow night.'
