Lonely Mom


Introduction:
lonely mom opens up to son

What I have done with my story writing is realize that a sexual fantasy is a process that takes place in your mind. A fantasy is fiction, yet within our society there are rules that can make an act of fiction seem criminal. While normally it is only within dictatorships and religion that we create thought crimes, those crimes can still exist even within fantasy. For that reason I omit ages at times and allow the reader to develop what they will, with their own mind.

This story is really all my fault, I know it and I just don’t care. You can say its good or bad, I am past the point of apologizing to myself over what I’ve done.
My name is Janet and I was in the past a good mom, I lost my husband to cancer and just never got out. It’s not that I didn’t want the company of a man, too shy, too whatever. I had my fantasy lovers for sure, but masturbating in the shower while spreading your legs to expose yourself to some fantasy lover doesn’t make you a bad person. Neither does masturbating in every room of the house, I think, having sex with your adult son? I know that is crossing the line. Well ok, I guess I became a bad mom. I know that I have been described as “clingy” I probably came across as too desperate for the few men that I did meet. It’s part of who and what I am, I am miserable at being single and horrible at fixing it.

This changed with a conversation I had with my son. He had married young, neither of them wanted kids, she was a real scheming partier. That’s where my conversation came in. My son called, that meant something was wrong right off the bat, he was hesitant to talk about it, I got it from him, hey why else would he have called, right? His wife Cathy had a new scheme. She wanted to get the house in her name, have him get a loan that they could spend and then blow off the loan. If the house is in her name they couldn’t foreclose . He admitted that things had been bad before she came up with the idea. I threw another idea at him, house in her name, she puts his loan against the house and throws him out. Legally the money would be considered a gift and he’d be screwed for life.

Solution, no kids, let her put the home in her name. Then when she’s at work, move out and in with me, rent free of course till you’re ready for another home. It’s still all legal and any divorce would end up with him in the clear. Financial
ruin no matter what if he stays with her. It didn’t take much to convince him, I was honest, I told him I was miserable alone and would love having a man around.

The day came and Terry (my son) moved in. The phone calls were hilarious, I saved some of the messages. His ex was berating him and saying she was glad he was gone, threw him out, having sex with all sorts of guys, that sort of stuff. The only crimp I had was I couldn’t masturbate in the living room any more, the thought of him catching me. Well ok it turned me on a little, but only because I hadn’t had a man in years. I guess I started it the first night. Terry was in bed, I had come in to wish him good night. I admitted that I hated being alone and just having another person around was so nice. Then I had him move over so I could lay down and talk, that is all I did the first night.

The next day I didn’t think a thing about it till I was in the shower. Then the thoughts of, did I lock the door. What if he walked in, what if I got out to lock the door and that’s when he came in. By the end I had my legs open facing the door with my fingers up inside me while groping my breast with my other hand. God I came hard, I felt bad afterwards but hey, it’s only a fantasy right? So what if my fantasy lover had a face and a name now?

That night I was a little bad, his ex had called, panic was now setting in on her. She’d scammed her way into owning the house, but without his paycheck she was gonna default on the mortgage. Most likely she would skip making the payments all together so as not to crimp the fun money she was addicted to. Also realizing that Terry was likely living free was making her a little insane. This gave me something to talk about with him in bed. I was on top of the covers facing him, I guess I did tell him to give his mom a hug. He briefly rubbed my back, I had my motherly looking nightie on, but the rub caused me to react. I snuggled in close and was ready to sleep, he had to jostle me awake. I apologized telling him how bad I was a living alone, how easy it would be for me to fall asleep with some one next to me.

The next night I was a little worse, the ex didn’t call, so we just talked about yesterday’s call. I asked him if he remembered his mom snuggling with him when he was little. He didn’t, I confessed that when he was young his dad worked nights. I would crawl into bed with him so I wouldn’t be alone. I always planned on telling him that it was so he wouldn’t be alone but he never woke up. I admitted to doing that till he was ten, in truth it was till he was twelve. This brought his arm out of the covers and around me, I helped and since I was near the edge of the bed I pulled the covers over my shoulder. Terry rubbed my back and I instinctively cuddled closer. I felt him pull more covers over me but didn’t say anything. Terry’s hand roamed my back and I let myself sleep. I became aware first that his hand wasn’t moving, then that it was on my rear. It was bad I know, but I scooched my hips forward just a smidge. Terry squeezed then stopped. My breathing had changed, I think he knew I was awake. This was the awkward moment that I think I had been secretly hoping for and didn’t have a clue how to proceed. I sat up and told him he should stop, I didn’t finish by saying what I wanted.

The next day at breakfast I tried to get my nerve up. Terry came down, he was afraid to look me in the eye. I made breakfast like nothing was wrong and he started to relax. As he was leaving for work he asked if we were “ok”. I smiled and said yes, in an off hand way I said it had been so long for me that we were lucky he stopped because I didn’t know if I’d stop him. He turned so fast that I never saw his reaction.

After he left for work I had a fabulous orgasm in the shower pretending that he was looking at my wide open legs. That night I knew I really needed to give it a rest, that I shouldn’t move on my son like this. I dressed for bed and intentionally left my panties off. I knew that way I would chicken out and not go to his room. I was interested in seeing if he was going to check me out more. He did and I felt fabulously sexy because of it. I intended to go to my own bed but as I walked past his door it was open. He was in bed with the covers pulled over leaving room for me. I didn’t have my panties on tonight, I paused and he asked if I was going to want to cuddle tonight. I stammered and he moved over to make room. I was terrified as I walked in, I knew for certain that I would not stop any advance he made. Would tonight be the night?

As I slid into bed with him he flipped the covers over to cover us. It’s just that this is what I needed so badly. He sensed something and asked me what. I told him that I knew this was wrong, just that I had been alone for so long, that I feel so much better with someone to cuddle to. He asked if I really had cuddled him when he was younger. I ended up telling him the truth, I said yea, till you were 10 or 12 but then I stopped. I could feel him smile as he said he slept the best when he was young. He wrapped his arms around me and began rubbing my back, I began to drowse. I felt his hand slip lower, this time I feigned sleep and snuggled close.
His hand began openly caressing my panty less bottom, then he squeezed causing my hips to lurch forward. I gasped and said that was my bottom. His only reply was to squeeze again with another involuntary thrust of my hips. I said his name, Terry I can’t, I can’t stop this. Now he squeezed again, my front came into contact with his penis. He had an obvious erection, he pulled me closer and groaned “just tonight” I softly agreed saying just tonight. Now he began thrusting, his penis I realized was poking through his pj’s. He was rubbing on my pubic hair through my nightie and his breathing was intense. I was besides myself with lust and need myself and I found him straining and pushing forward. He was emptying himself onto my nightie. I repeated to him “just tonight” he shook his head yes. Then I said sweetie, you took care of you, now I need you to take care of me. I pulled my sodden nightie up under my breasts and straddled him. He was limp now so I crawled towards his face bringing my sopping wet hairy slit towards his mouth. “just tonight I need you to take care of me ok sweetie?” the only answer I received was his mouth on my womanhood. That was what I needed and I moved as needed till he got me off. When I was done I struggled out of his bed trying to keep my sperm soaked nightie from getting either of us wet. When I stood I let it down only to feel the clammy cold of his cooled sperm on my skin. I shivered and pulled it up and off saying it was wet and cold with his stuff. I saw him looking at me and blushed furiously before fleeing to my room.

That morning I let him get up alone. Despite finally having some release I was still desperately horny and needed relief in the shower, again seeing my imaginary lover looking at my obscene display. Now my lover was my son and my resolve was broken, or made. I don’t know which . I knew that after last night I really did need to cool my heels a bit. I didn’t want my son to think his mother a total slut. I just about had my plan down pat when after dinner Terry began looking at me. I had to look away. I knew what I wanted and just felt ashamed to want it so badly. Terry destroyed my plans for a celibate evening by simply asking, has it really been that bad for you, living alone.

I broke down sobbing, I clung to him, I told him how it feels like I just can’t function without someone in my life. He took me upstairs and told me to get ready for bed. I took the longest time getting ready, he was being sweet. I always responded to a man that way by wearing wearing something revealing. I was trapped on the dilemma of panties or no panties, none last night, I know at least I think I know what he wants. But no panties is so wrong. But so is what we did last night and what I know he probably wants now. I decided that since this seemed to be happening anyway, I went with no panties. My son was going to own me by the morning and after that it wouldn’t matter any more. If he did it, I would just wear whatever he wanted, or sleep nude for all that matters. I looked in the mirror, I may have as well been nude. I was totally on display. I walked to his room finding him already in bed. 7:45pm and we’re getting in bed and I am functionally naked to his eyes.

He was a sweetheart, “just relax and close your eyes mom”. I did and he began rubbing my back. Eventually down to my bottom, I couldn’t help it, my hips still thrust a little. He moved his other arm around me sliding it under my head and I allowed that. Then he wrapped his arms around me and rolled me on top of him. I couldn’t play asleep now. He began rubbing my back while I softly said we shouldn’t do this. Thank god he ignored me. He began rubbing my bottom and back, I let my legs slide open causing my night dress to ride up. My ass was almost exposed and I moved my hands finding that he was wearing pajama bottoms. Good I thought, as much as I wanted something to happen, now I was getting afraid that it might happen now, just a nervous fear. His hands began roaming across my bare bottom, reaching further down then last night. Oh god he was openly rubbing my pussy from behind I had to say something. “Terry that’s not my bottom, that is your mothers pussy you have there.

His reaction to my comment was to grab my hem line and lift exposing my bare bottom. He didn’t stop there, his insistent tugging on my nightie prompted me to lift some. My knees were already on the bed. As soon as he had me exposed below I was able to feel his cock standing up out of his pj’s. At this point I lost myself, the thing that I both desired and feared was about to happen and I started almost babbling. Terry your bare cock is out, god Terry you have my vagina exposed, oh god Terry I can’t stop this, Terry I, oh Terry I. He pulled me up enough to position his cock at my entrance, I think I may have helped a little in shoving it in. My emotions had built so much to this point all I could do was cry some, I was telling my son, go ahead and fuck your mother I can’t say no to you, I’ll never be able to say no to you, oh god take me. Terry didn’t last long that first time, but his erection didn’t subside all the way either. I remained laying on top of him, after a bit of slower breathing he began caressing my bare bottom again. After a bit I felt his fingers slip down and begin exploring my sopping wet slit. I made the comment that he really had me wet down there, he whispered for me to talk more, like I did before.

This began the sex play that we still use to this day. During the day I dress and act appropriately as his mother, but that night and every other night that we’re together I talk dirty. That night I told him he had filled his mother with his sperm, is that really what he wanted to do. Did he want to treat his mother like some sex toy? Did he think he could just squirt his ball sack off inside of me whenever he felt the urge? As I spoke that night I could feel his shaft growing and with all he had squirted up in me it was no problem at all letting it grow to its full length while inside his mother. That second time our first night lasted much longer and really helped me to get past my taboo jitters.

Now my son and I have a much more relaxed sex life, there are days where I am proper and days where I am not. Instead of me masturbating in every room in the house I am glad to say that my son has violated me in every room in the house. I even lived out my fantasy one evening, I called to my son and told him I had to show him something while I was taking my shower. He walked in to see me with my legs spread, standing there with the water running, facing him while masturbating


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