ON THE ROAD WITH MY SON

Life sure can throw you for a loop sometimes, huh? For all my married life, I'd been faithful to my husband, never even thinking about cheating on him throughout the 30 years we'd been married. But when I asked my son for a simple favour, my entire world changed forever. My name is Cynthia Jones and this is my incredible journey.

I was 54 years old, and my husband was away for the week at a conference in Melbourne. We'd been growing apart for a couple of months, and we'd not made love for even longer, so I was really feeling the need to try and reignite the fire that once burned so bright between us. The lack of activity didn't come from lack of trying on my part, I can tell you that much - I do yoga 3 times a week in order to maintain my slim physique (which, at 5'4" tall, is certainly a struggle at times), and I'd tried all manner of sexy lingerie, but nothing seemed to work. Almost every time I tried to initiate some intimate times between my husband Mark and myself, he'd gently turn me down, claiming to be either too tired or too stressed out from working. I never did buy that excuse; he was winding up to retire, not gearing up for a promotion, so he should've just been coasting until he hit 60.

Anyway, I was reading one of my trashy tabloid magazines when I read an article about "How to Spice Up Your Sex Life!", and got inspired by tip number 8: Surprise him with a romantic getaway. Sure, his three star accommodation wasn't inherently romantic, but what man wouldn't be thrilled with his wife suddenly showing up at his hotel room, hungry for sex? I was just about to book the $400 plane ticket right then and there before a much cheaper option occurred to me: wasn't our son, Joel, heading to Melbourne tomorrow morning?

Joel was 23 and worked full-time as a truck driver for one of the country's biggest "logistics and supply chain companies" - corporate jargon for a freight company. Since he was away for weeks on end, Mark and I both decided it would make more sense for him not to have a rental property just yet, and keep his old room for the few days he'd have at home every now and then. With his 20 year-old sister, Kirsty, now living in London, Mark and I were practically living by ourselves. As luck (or fate) would have it, Joel was home at just the right time for me to beg him for a lift to Melbourne, which was his next destination. I'd already done the mental calculations, and Joel would arrive with still two days left to go with Mark's conference. Now, most guys probably wouldn't exactly leap at the opportunity to be stuck in a truck with his mother for four and a half days so that she could have sex with his father at the end, right? Well, most guys in their mid-20s don't have incredibly obvious crushes on their mothers. And, as much as it pains me to admit it, this wouldn't be the first time I've exploited his Oedipal fantasies for my own personal gain - I lost count of the number of times I deliberately changed into push-up bras and short skirts before asking him to do some much-needed chores around the house. It's cruel, I know, but I suppose in a way I was punishing him for having feelings that I deemed to be "wrong" or "shameful."

So that was that; I'd decided. First things first, I changed into a low-cut V-neck shirt and some skinny jeans and found Joel lying on the couch, reading something on his phone. I stepped in front of the couch, bent over and asked him "Hey sweetie, just wondering if you'd like to do a huge favour for me?"

He turned his head, and it was fairly obvious where he directed his gaze at first. As always, I didn't know whether to feel flattered, violated or guilty. A few seconds later, he looked me in the eyes. "What's up?"

"Well, you're heading to Melbourne tomorrow, right? I just had this idea and - sorry it's so last minute - and I was hoping you'd let me hitch a ride with you so I can surprise your dad while he's at that conference?"

He seemed taken aback, and I can't say I can blame him too much. I'd never asked to come with him when he was working before, and it was very last minute. He thought about it for a little while, and finally replied with a resounding, "Sure, whatever you want." He paused. "But there's a couple of conditions. One, you can't criticise my driving. Two, the motels have already been booked as single rooms, and it's probably too late to change the bookings for a double."

"Alright, that's fine, sweetie. And I completely understand about how last minute this whole thing is, so I'm happy to sleep on the floor or the sofas or whatever they have. Thanks so much, Joel." I gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, and left promising I wouldn't say a word about his driving.

At 5:30 the next morning, Joel tossed my luggage into his truck with the rest of the cargo and our little mother-son road trip was underway. At first, I did what I could to sleep while we drove, but I just couldn't relax. Every so often, I'd feel my head lolling from one side to the other as I started drifting and then suddenly I was awake again with a start. That probably happened 15 times in the first hour or two of the drive. At the same time, Joel's driving probably didn't help me relax either. He tailgated a few drivers that he felt cut in front of him, he sped a few times, and more than once overtook a slow car without a safe enough gap between us and the oncoming traffic. But, I kept my promise and my mouth remained shut. As I predicted, I caught him sneaking a few peeks at my body when he thought I wasn't looking, and of course I felt my old Neapolitan ice cream flavour of emotions: flattered/violated/guilty. That didn't stop me from "stretching" my back at one point while thanking him yet again for taking me with him. I arched my back, pushing my breasts out as much as I could against the seatbelt, putting on a little show, which I considered to be a little reward for him.

Once I realised I wasn't going to be able to sleep, we would chat every now and then, sometimes about how Kirsty must be going in London. I would ask him how he's enjoying working as a truck driver, and ask after some of his closest childhood friends who he's still keeping in touch with. Depending on the topic, he'd reply with barely any words, or he could talk for miles on end. I guess that's always the way with parents and their kids, though - once they reach a certain age, they suddenly realise they have a choice and can just choose not to talk if they don't want to, especially if they think you're "nagging" them, as I'm often accused of.

Lunchtime came eventually, and despite my reservations - Joel would probably prefer to use that old favourite "nagging" - we went to McDonald's, which I know is meant to be a staple of a truck driver's diet, and a road trip tradition. However, when you work as hard as I do at maintaining a slim figure, it's very easy to see fast food places like McDonald's as the bad guys. All those fatty, salty foods and the sugary soft drinks they churn out by the bucketload? No thank you. But, it's his body and he was the one driving and paying for it, so I decided to just keep my anti-fast-food rant to myself for the time being. And I'll confess, that afternoon the idea of a cheeseburger was just too good to pass up for some reason.

Joel was shocked that I was even considering a burger. I'd later come to regret saying this, but without even thinking about who I was talking to, I informed him, "It's fun to be naughty every once in a while and just not worry about the consequences, you know?"

Joel said he couldn't argue with that and smiled as he watched me eat my burger.

The rest of the trip that day was pretty uneventful; Joel remarked that he was pleasantly surprised he wasn't having to push too hard to get to our motel before it got too dark. We arrived a little after 7:30 that night, and we had our own meals for dinner - luckily for me, we were staying a couple of blocks from a Subway so I enjoyed a salad (the bread is too fattening) and Joel, naturally, had another Big Mac.

Even though I'd packed my yoga mat, I felt way too exhausted to actually do any exercise that night. I don't know why, but travelling does it to me every time. Besides, there wasn't much room in the room for me to do my poses in a way that I wouldn't be in Joel's way...which is another way of saying I didn't much feel like him ogling me while I stretched and posed in my exercise clothes. Instead, we sat and watched whatever was on TV that wasn't dreadful reality television until we felt it was time for bed. I grabbed some spare sheets and a blanket from the tiny motel cupboard and used my yoga mat as a makeshift mattress for the night.

You know how I just said that I always feel exhausted after travelling? Well, guess who couldn't sleep a wink that night? Okay, maybe I got an hour or two, but that's never enough, is it? I felt so damn sleepy when Joel turned out the lights, and my self-made floor-bed was actually pretty comfortable. However, something was keeping me awake. Either it was the strange new surroundings, or Joel's snoring, or a combination of the two, but I couldn't stop thinking about the day and the days that lay ahead. So as I lay there, staring at the ceiling and listening to my son snore from his almost-comfy motel bed, a terrifying and completely new thought entered my head: What if Mark doesn't love me anymore?

As soon as that terrible thought occurred to me, I couldn't get it to leave. Holy shit, what if he's having an affair? What if he's gay? What if he's actually in Melbourne to get a really good divorce lawyer? Why wouldn't he love me anymore? Was it because I don't have a job? But he told me he didn't want me to get one since he was on such good money and didn't want us to get bumped up into the next tax bracket. Oh God, what if he thinks I'm ugly? After all this work I do to keep myself fit and youthful for him, and now he probably thinks I'm just some desperate, dried up middle-aged housewife struggling in vain to hold on to her rapidly-fading youth. I mean, sure, I've been dying my hair jet black ever since I got my first grey hairs at 30, but I do my yoga and eat healthy so we have a better chance at a long future together, damn it. I don't want to be fat and dying of a heart attack or a stroke before I reach 70, like both my parents did.

Rationalise it all you want, Cynthia, but it's time to face the facts: Mark hasn't made a move in, what, five months? More? It's always been you, and he's hardly ever wanting to even when you do. That doesn't sound like the actions of a man who still loves you, sweetheart. You only have two children together, as well. Not from lack of trying on your part, though, is it? If he really did love you, surely he would've been willing to try for another baby or two.

That conversation with myself lasted for hours. I tried so, so many times to think about something else - such as all the naughty, sexy things Mark and I would do with each other when I showed up at his hotel in Melbourne in just two more days - but then the voice of doubt kept creeping back in: That's assuming he doesn't just kick you out the moment he sees you and how desperate you are for a fuck.

I wouldn't say I'm prone to depression, but at times like that it's hard to believe that. All the self-doubt and nasty thoughts you have about yourself when you're tired and feeling all alone, it's hard for anybody if they don't have hope. My hope that night was the hope that I was wrong about my husband, and that he was just stressed about wrapping things up properly before retirement, and that he'd be so overwhelmed by surprise and desire that he'd take me before I even had a chance to change into some of the sexy clothes I'd packed. So, that's the battle I fought in my head on the first night of our road trip. Not exactly a great start, nor an experience I'm keen to repeat at any point soon.

Though there were a few hours it didn't seem likely, the morning did eventually arrive. Joel and I left the motel, and the first few hours of the trip went by without incident. But then I had to open my big goddamn mouth. Both at the time and now, I blame everything on my lack of sleep and the not-quite depression from the night before. And I suppose my inherent neediness might also have been a contributing factor. But mostly I was lacking my normal filter from being sleep deprived and a little depressed. So I randomly turned to my son and asked him, "Do you think I'm attractive? Like, genuinely attractive?"

To his credit, Joel didn't run the truck off the road as he stammered and tried to think of a response. "I, um, yeah, I guess, no- you're my mum, just- I'm driving..."

My maternal instincts worked together with my neediness as I tried to reassure my son. "Joel, honey, relax. Whatever you say, I won't judge you or hold it against you or anything. I just... I'll love you no matter what; I'm just really starting to have some doubts about myself lately." I tried to stop my voice from quivering towards the end, but I don't think I was terribly successful.

He took a deep breath before answering. Eyes still focused on the road, he confessed, "I think by now you should know I don't think you're ugly at all, Mum." I nodded. "But I - oh man - I think you're beautiful." He paused as his face started to turn blood red . "No, screw it. I think you're beautiful. And sexy. I have thought so ever since I was like 15 and you've only gotten more beautiful and sexy as you've gotten older. And I'm sorry, I know that's way too much information for a guy to say to his mother. But you did ask."

"Thank you." I was too overwhelmed by his sheer honesty to say anything further.

"Anytime." He took one hand off the wheel to check how much he was still shaking. If he was a surgeon, I'd have been worried. I pretended to be reading a billboard at the time so he could have as much privacy as he could in the cab of a two-seat freight truck.

"Honestly, though, sweetie, thank you. I needed that. This'll probably sound stupid, but I'd started to wonder if your father didn't love me anymore or if he thought I was ugly and all sorts of bad stuff. So, thank you so much for saying all that." I put my hand on his knee and squeezed. He patted it a couple of times in reply before I took my hand back.

We went quiet for a little while after that, and my mind really began to wander. Joel didn't come right out and say he was attracted to me, did he? Well, that depends on how you cut it. He said you're beautiful and sexy, so to most people, that'd count as a yes. But I'm his mother, for crying out loud! And that doesn't mean he can't be attracted to you, does it? There's way too many examples throughout history of guys being horny for their mothers for you to honestly argue that it never happens.

Not that I'd ever actually do anything with him, but... Yeah? Well, it's just, he's not a bad looking guy. You'd be doing really well to find a better looking guy his age who desires you that much. Plus, he's your son, so you know he would've struggled with those feelings for quite some time before finally deciding "Sure, it's fine that you feel this way, just tell her", right? Actually, you know who he reminds me of? A young Mark. But more handsome. Exactly. I mean, sure, he's got that styled stubble that he insists on calling a beard, but with Mark and my dark brown hair, and that sweet smile and those sparkling eyes, he's a spitting image of Mark when he was younger.

Yes, he's very handsome, but he's still my son. I'm not saying I'd ever actually do anything with him; I'm just saying that I should feel pretty damn good about myself that someone so young and sexy finds me so desirable. Wait, did you seriously just say he's sexy? Well, he said that about me, so it's only fair... Hey, here's an idea: fuck Melbourne, just get him to keep driving south and you'll wind up in Tasmania, it's a great place for those kinds of thoughts. Okay, I've had enough of these thoughts, and enough of this silence.

"Hey, it just occurred to me..." I clearly broke his thoughts, too.

"Uh? What's that?"

"I never actually said anything in return, you know?"

"I don't- What do you mean, Mum?"

"Well, I know this'll just sound like I'm, like, either just repaying the favour or saying what every mother's meant to tell her son, but just know I mean it, okay? You're a very handsome young man. You look like a younger version of your father, but - don't tell him this, okay? - you're even better looking than he ever was." I did everything I could to not stare at the tent that had recently appeared in his jeans.

"Maybe that comes from your side of the family, huh?" We both had to laugh.

After that, the conversation died down again and when we spoke for the rest of the trip, it was never about that topic. I did find myself staring at him more than I had the previous day, though. His arms, his neck, his chest, his hair, his face, his legs, his hands... There was a lot a woman could find attractive about my son, I was suddenly realising. Not that I was fantasising, though, I told myself. Perish the thought I was attracted to him. That was unnatural and offensive to my husband - and just human nature - on so many levels. No, I had just solved the mystery of why and how he'd had so many girlfriends. With a face and body like that, he could have his pick of any number of women, and he certainly did. Not that I'm judging, of course - in my youth I'd had a fair few boyfriends before meeting and settling down with Mark.

As I found myself appreciating what all his girlfriends must have appreciated about Joel's looks, I started to feel the beginnings of some tingling between my legs. That was ludicrous, of course. I was just sex-starved and bored on this seemingly endless road we found ourselves on, and my mind and body had gotten confused about who I should and should not be fantasising about, that was all. I certainly wasn't feeling the beginnings of attraction to my own son. No, absolutely not, I told myself.

Finally, the motel! I was very keen to get out of that cab that night, even more than I was the day before. Another Subway salad for dinner, then a nice hot shower. Given the day's most interesting conversation topic, I took a moment or two to study my naked body in the mirror after my shower. My wavy, long, dyed-jet-black hair sat with my fringe covering my forehead, and the body of my hair ending just above my breasts. Now these, I'm happy with, stretch marks and all. Even after breastfeeding Joel and Kirsty, they were symmetrical and as perky as D-cups can be - bouncy, without being saggy. My nipples? The areola are probably larger than average, but the nipples themselves are pink and no bigger than average I suppose. I'm also happy with how my tummy looks. After childbirth and a fairly long chubby period, I put in a lot of hard work at home and with a yoga class and finally got it back to my pre-baby body, so now it's nice and flat, and you can even see a little bit of muscle tone if the light's just right. My butt is nothing special - a bit flat, really - but it's still in proportion to the rest of me, so I consider that a win. My legs are thin but short - I'm only 5'4" so I really curse them at times, such as trying to reach the top shelves in the kitchen. I also had done a bold thing the night before Joel and I left on our road trip and, when showering and shaving my legs and armpits, I applied my razor to an area I hadn't since I was about 30. So that night, I was still sporting a freshly shaved pubic area. Surveying the entire landscape that was my naked, 54-year old body, I was actually really happy with my looks for the first time in a long time. Bolstered by Joel's confession that morning, I really felt good about what I was trying to achieve with this silly little surprise I had planned for my husband. I eventually got dressed in my comfy satin slip and let Joel have his own shower.When Joel returned from the bathroom, I'd just begun making my yoga mat bed for the night. He stood close to me and uttered two simple words: "Don't worry."

I should've known what was coming, or at least that something was up with him, but I can be pretty damn naive when it counts. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, I love you, Mum. You're so incredibly beautiful, I've wanted you for so long..." Too shocked to react, I stood motionless while my son brushed my hair out of my face before embracing me and kissing me on the mouth.

Words cannot describe how incredibly weird it is to have a family member finally act on years of desire for you, let alone how confusing it is to find yourself suddenly, undeniably attracted to them in return. But if I had to describe it (and since I'm writing this, I guess I do have to describe it), I'd say it's probably the most extreme example of "so wrong it's good" that I've ever experienced. When Joel put his lips on mine and I felt his stubble-beard prickle against my pale skin and my nostrils filled with the strong, sweet aroma of his deodorant, I was equal parts disgusted with ourselves, incredibly horny, intoxicated by the taboo, giddy with adrenaline at the possibility of cheating on my husband, and flattered beyond words by the actions and words sexy young man who found me so desirable he didn't care that he was making a move on the woman who gave birth to him.

As much as my body wanted everything that would happen next, my more rational brain won the fight and once I regained the strength in my arms, I put my arms to his chest - oh God, that solid, young chest - and pushed him away, breaking our kiss.

"Mum, what's wrong? Don't try to tell me you don't want this; I saw the way you were looking at me after I confessed my feelings for you."

I stepped back from him. "It's not as easy as that, darling. I do think you're very sexy, too, and I'm happy to say you're also very sweet and caring and loving. But I'm still very much in love with your father, and since this trip was all about him, I'd feel like such a hypocritical whore if I broke my marriage vows to him for the first time now, and with our own son, no less!"

He stepped closer again, trying not to look intimidating, but not exactly succeeding. He put his hands on my shoulders and gently started massaging me. He stared me deep in the eyes and told me, "Look, just because I'm not married, don't think I don't understand, Mum. But it's just that I can't think of anyone else I'd rather be with. You're so amazingly beautiful and sexy in every way, it pains me to know that your love is wasted on that ungrateful man you're married to. I'm sorry if that hurts, but it's true."

It certainly was true, but I didn't want him to think I agreed. As much as I enjoyed the massage, I gently removed his hands from my shoulders and held them in my hands as I told him, "I love you so much, Joel, but... having sex with my son? It's not something I ever thought I would do, and now that it I'm suddenly faced with the reality of it even possibly happening, the thought petrifies me. I really do love you and I know you're in love with me, but... above everything else, I'm your mother. And as much as you make me feel desired again, I'm just too scared of what could happen if we actually do go through with what you're trying to make happen." I turned away from him with the beginnings of tears in my eyes - I'd never had to be so emotionally honest with Joel before, and it was incredibly difficult. As much to him as it was to myself, I found the strength to say just one more word - "Sorry."

As I began to walk away from my incredibly lovestruck son, he quickly came up behind me and spun me around to face him again. Once again looking deep into my eyes, he said "A wise person once told me it's fun to be naughty every once in a while and just not worry about the consequences."

Before I could say anything else after he'd perverted my own words against me, his lips were on mine again. His stubble-beard prickled against my skin again. My nostrils filled with the strong, sweet aroma of his deodorant again. Again, I was equal parts disgusted with ourselves, incredibly horny, intoxicated with the taboo, giddy with adrenaline at the possibility of cheating on my husband, and flattered beyond words by the actions and words sexy young man who found me so desirable he didn't care that he was about to fuck the woman who his father was married to. I raised my arms and put my hands on his chest again. This time, however, I stopped denying my feelings and admitted that it'd been far too long since I'd felt so desired. Yes, the incest taboo is one of the greatest biological forces in humanity, but it paled in comparison to my desire to feel attractive and sexual again. And I felt so sexy and so wanted and so loved that I'd genuinely stopped caring that it was my son who made me feel that way. I closed my eyes and kissed him back, pressing my lips up into his, moving my hands around his torso and around to his back, embracing him, pulling us closer together than we had been since he was a little boy. I could feel his hardness struggling against his loose-fitting pyjama boxer shorts and pressing into my body. His hands rubbed my back, and he moaned into my lips. I wrapped my arms tight around him and moaned in response. His arms slid down my back and under my butt as he suddenly lifted me up and carried me about eight feet to the bed and he laid me gently down on the hard motel bed linen. He would've done it all without ever breaking our kiss, too, if it didn't make me giggle and cry out "Whee", feeling like a bride on her wedding night.

My legs dangled off the edge of the bed and Joel stood above me, hunched right over. He ran his hands down the sides of my torso and down to my knees and back up, his fingers feeling all the curves of my body. "You're so incredible, Mum," he almost whispered in reverence.

Rather than just predictably reply "You too," I sat up and kissed my son again, this time relishing the feeling of his stubble-beard. He kissed back and we moaned in unison. He opened his mouth slightly and out came his tongue and licked across my lips. I read his cue and opened my mouth, meeting his tongue with my own. Our mouths locked again and our tongues danced wetly in each other's mouth. I held the nape of his neck and moan-sighed as I felt the last semblances of my rational, "incest is wrong" mind slip away and gave in to the pure lust I now felt for the boy I'd raised as my own.

Soon enough, I reached for the bottom of the t-shirt Joel was using as a pyjama shirt and began to slide it up his torso. Once I got it more than halfway, he obliged me by pausing our make out session and slid it over his head, tossing it aside without a care. My son now stood before me and I took a moment to breathe in the sight as a woman instead of as a mother. He has a very nice physique - I'd say he was at the upper reaches of "solid", perhaps sliding into "chubby" if he didn't start cutting back on the fast food. He has nice broad shoulders and his tummy was starting to develop, but you can't tell from the front. He has a little bit of chest hair - around his nipples, in the middle of his chest, and a snail trail that starts just above his belly button. I think he must do some push-ups or something, because his arms are quite nice and fairly large for someone who just drives a truck for eight hours a day. As he looked down at me and I looked up at him, I could definitely see the outline of his manhood begging to be set free from his boxers, but that would come later. For the time being, Joel was more focused on looking at me. He knelt down between my legs in front of the bed and reached for my slip.

I leant back and, propping my butt up with my arms behind me, allowed Joel to lift my slip up above my stomach before I bounced back down and, like my son, took control of the reveal of my own torso. As gracefully as I could with my hands trembling from nervousness and lust, I slid my loose-fitting (unflattering, honestly) slip over my head, deliberately letting it catch on my breasts as I did so. After the brief struggle was over, my breasts jiggled and I threw my slip onto the floor.

Joel's draw dropped wide open, and he stared at my breasts for several seconds without any further movement. If only Mark would look at me that way again! Eventually, his brain started working again and he simply said "Holy fuck." Any other time I would've yelled at him for his language, but I decided to allow for the circumstances.

"I guess I don't have to ask if you like what you see, honey?" I enquired coyly. So this is what it's like to feel sexy; I'd genuinely forgotten. I cupped my breasts in each hand and rubbed my nipples for him.

"Jesus Christ, yes." He practically leapt at me, laying me down on the bed again with his arms either side of me, kissing my cheeks and my neck. We moaned in pleasure together, me doing my best not to flinch or giggle as his stubble tickled my sensitive skin. He kissed his way down the centre of my chest and soon he was face-to-face with my bare breasts for the first time since I weaned him off breast milk so many years ago. He immediately latched onto my right nipple just like he did as an infant. This time, however, was much more about pleasure. I immediately felt my nipple harden in his wet, eager mouth as his hot breath and saliva made contact with my sensitive skin. Moaning intermittently and not content with just sucking my nipple, he also licked it and ran his tongue clockwise and counterclockwise around my areola, truly enjoying playing with his mother's breast for the first time since he was a baby. As he pleasured my right breast, my left did not feel neglected in the slightest - his right hand had a hold of it and he squeezed it firmly but lovingly. He would rub the nipple with his index finger and make it hard in an effort to make it match the right. After a while, he switched and began licking and sucking my left breast while massaging and playing with my right nipple.

Long before his hands ventured that far south, I knew I was wet. I probably had been since that first kiss when I turned him down. Since that kiss, I'd been warm and tingly down between my legs, and I first realised I was so damn moist that I'd begun leaking onto my bikini briefs around the time I'd removed my son's shirt. So by the time he'd begun kissing down from my breasts to my belly button, I was more than ready for Joel to take off my underwear. I squirmed and giggled as he kissed my belly button and my lower tummy. His hands slid down from my breasts and down to my sides and over my hips, where he hooked the sides of my briefs with his fingers and, once I lifted my butt off the bed once again, my son removed my underpants, leaving me totally naked and with his face mere inches away from his birthplace.

Can you believe that I almost didn't want to watch? After how goddamn incredible everything else had been, I didn't want to see him do what he was about to do next? That's not to say I didn't want it; sweet Jesus, I wanted it so bad it almost hurt. I just didn't think I could handle the thought of my son putting his mouth on my most intimate area. But, curiosity got the better of me and thank heavens it did.

I propped myself up on my elbows so I could look down at Joel as he prepared to give oral sex to the woman who gave birth to him. He kissed my inner thighs left to right, inching slightly closer to my womanhood with each kiss. Amazingly, I barely even felt his beard down there. Jesus, he hasn't been this close to me since I gave birth to him. Less than two inches from my outer labia now. Kissing each thigh once more, he paused to inhale my scent. Not just a quick sniff, either; he breathed in as much of my scent as he could. I'm so glad I had just showered!

"God, you smell amazing, Mum." Well, that's a relief.

Wasting no more time, he ran his right hand over my outer lips, slowly working his index and middle finger inside me. Slowly, gently, almost reverently, he started moving them in and out of my hole. I inhaled sharply and exhaled with a moan. Staring down, transfixed by my son's fingering, I watched as he ever so gradually increased his pace. I informed him that it felt "so good", as though he really needed spoken confirmation. It wasn't long after I'd said that when he positioned his thumb so that it started making contact with my clitoris with each inward thrust of his fingers. I responded with an "Oohohoho fuck" of encouragement. I saw him grinning like the Cheshire Cat. He gradually increased his thrust, increasing the rate at which his thumb bumped into my clit. Soon I watched with amazement as my hips started moving by themselves, perfectly matching the rate at which his fingers were moving in and out of me. He curled his fingers up and, with a "come here" motion, started rubbing the G-spot that Mark had never been able to find. Faster and faster, he rubbed my clit and G-spot as I heard my breath getting more and more shallow, and my face getting more and more red. Rocking my hips towards and away from him, soon I was bucking with pleasure as I watched him - my own son - staring intently at my womanhood.

I think I was about to cry "You're gonna make me cum, baby" to him, but all I managed was "You're gonna make m-" before I was knocked flat on my back by orgasm. I felt my eyes roll in the back of my head as I arched my back and spasmed up and down on the bed, fucking my son's fingers as he knelt in front of me like a Catholic at mass. I probably squealed loud enough for the rest of the motel to hear, but I don't care; that orgasm was a long fucking time coming, if you ask me. More than five months of sexual tension suddenly exploded from out of my clit and in a chain nuclear reaction throughout my entire body; I could almost see beams of light shooting from my fingers and toes as I writhed in pleasure with two of my only son's fingers still buried inside me.

It took probably a minute for me to stop breathing as though I'd run a mile. "Oh Jesus, I've never cum like that before, sweetie," I confessed.

"We're not done yet, Mum."

I didn't have time to ask another stupid question like "What?" before I felt him kissing my thighs again. This time he used his hands to keep my legs open while his mouth did the work. He started licking up and down my outer labia before slowly working his way towards the middle of my opening and up to my clitoris. Just when I thought I'd recovered from one orgasm and here he was immediately wanting to give me another? I wish I'd given in to his lust years ago!

Joel moaned into my vagina as he licked my clit, his mouth open around my clit while his tongue protruded from his mouth and flicked my clit slowly but firmly side-to-side. As a mother, I don't really want to know where he learned how to please a woman so well, or how much practice he's had. But as a woman, holy hell am I glad he's had so much experience so young. It almost seemed like second nature to him - he knew exactly how much pressure to apply, when to speed up, how to breathe through his mouth without losing momentum - all the things that Mark would struggle with, Joel knew without me ever saying a word.

Soon enough, my hips started moving again, and I grabbed onto his hair to keep him in place while I ground my vagina into his face. This was the son I'd given birth to, the son I'd raised, the son I loved just slightly more than his sister, and now he was pleasuring me with the same mouth his father and I had spent thousands of dollars for braces on. It was so surreal I could've died. Instead, I looked down past my breasts and hairless crotch to my darling, very sexy son, focused on nothing but giving me as much pleasure as he could. Even more than his amazing tongue work, that was what pushed me over the edge the second time around: where any other guy would be content to skip the foreplay in favour of pure sex, Joel loved me and wanted me to know it, to feel it. And God, feel it I did.

My hips grinding right into his face, my breath becoming shorter and faster, his tongue now tiring but not giving him up after more than six minutes, I felt how much Joel loved me for the second time that night. I squealed like a girl at a Beatles concert and almost doubled over as I rode the orgasm wave, curling my toes right up, feeling my face and chest grow red and hot, my body glistening with sweat, my hair sticking to my face and neck and back. I spasmed and squirmed and told my son that I loved him, all while his face was buried between my legs, his magnificent tongue working overtime until my orgasm finally subsided.

Neither of us spoke; we both knew what would happen now. He stood up, wiped my juices from his chin and cheeks and he stepped out of his boxer shorts, finally revealing to me his throbbing manhood. Eight hard, hot circumcised inches stood thrusting from his neatly trimmed pubic hair. I felt guilty comparing him to his father at first, but that was before I noticed the difference in father and son. Mark wanted Joel to be circumcised "so he can be like his dad and there's no awkward questions". But Mark wasn't as thick as his son, and does it sound strange to say that I just liked the way Joel's veins looked more than Mark's? Anyway, I was certainly impressed with just how much of a man our son had become. Not wanting to spoil the moment by mentioning his father, I chose to keep that fact to myself for the time being. Instead, I simply instructed him, "Come home to Mum."

Without a moment's hesitation, he climbed on top of me and effortlessly guided himself back inside me. The sensation of my son sliding his rock hard cock into my wet opening was incredible. So much smoother, and infinitely more pleasurable than the last time he was inside me. The feeling of my own son entering me felt so natural and beautiful, disgusted feelings and horrified thoughts didn't even get a chance to form in my mind. I could feel every beat of his heart through his cock as he started to slowly slide in and out of me, our eyes fixed on each other's as mother and son made love for the first time.

He leaned down as I reached up to kiss him and wrap my arms and legs around his torso. With that, he slid even deeper into my vagina, and I took him all the way to the hilt. Our mouths locked in an open-mouthed kiss and our tongues resumed their frantic, wet dance. He thrust faster and faster inside me and I met his thrusts with my own, driving my hips forward to meet his dick. His hands found their way back to my chest, and with each thrust Joel squeezed my breasts.

We stayed that way - my legs and arms wrapped around his naked body, him squeezing my breasts as we made love with mutual thrusting and a never-ending tongue kiss - for about five minutes before Joel's breathing changed, becoming more rapid and shallow. I'd had sex enough times to know what was happening next.

Reluctantly breaking our kiss, I stared into my son's eyes and told him, "Cum inside me, baby."

"Oooh fuck," was his reply as he squeezed my breasts harder, like he was hanging onto them for dear life.

I could tell he was trying to hold back from cumming. Maybe he was afraid of getting me pregnant - a fair risk considering I hadn't yet gone through menopause, but I still took the pill religiously even though my more rational brain told me there wasn't any point anymore with how rare it is for Mark and I to make love. Or maybe Joel was simply trying to last as long as possible for me since it was our first time, but I honestly didn't care. After those two amazing orgasms I'd already had, I wasn't exactly looking for a third. All I wanted at that moment was for him to have an orgasm that would hopefully rival one of mine. "Don't worry, baby, just cum inside me," I implored him breathlessly as he picked up his thrusting pace.

After that, it wasn't long at all before he grunted "Mum, gonna- gonna cum."

"Do it, baby, just cum inside me," I begged.

A volcano of wet heat exploded inside me as Joel spasmed and groaned and thrust his cum into me just like his father had done 25 years ago when we made him. His whole body shook in an orgasm that must've lasted close to a minute. He squeezed my breasts harder than they'd ever been squeezed before. His face was bright red and his eyes were wide open and glassy. Rope after sticky rope of my son's semen burst from his cock and deep into my vagina. He'd just about filled me up when he eventually finished shooting. He collapsed onto my body, his head resting on my shoulder. I held my darling boy in my arms and stroked his head lovingly.

"You're fucking perfect, Mum," he informed me when he'd caught his breath again.

"And you're goddamn incredible too, sweetheart."

We lay there, motionless, as his cock slowly deflated and slipped out of me. It wasn't long after that before I felt something I'd forgotten about - the leakage. An avalanche of my son's semen spilled out of my vagina, down past my butt and onto the motel's sheets. I'm sure that wouldn't be the first time for that bed, I'm sure.

Once that happened, I suggested we shift slightly so we were lying on the bed properly. I can't remember too much else from that night, so I'd say we both must've fallen asleep pretty quickly after that. As I drifted off to sleep with my son resting his head on my breasts, I remember thinking that, even though he was my son, everything we'd done just felt so wonderful and natural, I was amazed.

The next morning, however, those thoughts didn't exactly hang around. I woke up in pretty much the same position we'd fallen asleep in - on my back, with my son's face resting on my left breast. When he stirred soon after I'd woken up, I pretended to still be asleep. In hindsight, I really wish I hadn't done that. He very carefully lifted himself up from my body and I listened as he crept around the room and gathered our clothes. He put mine in a pile on the bed and got changed after peeing. He'd closed the door, so I felt safe to get up and start getting dressed myself. I'd just pulled the day's dress on when he emerged from the bathroom, and we both mumbled a "good morning".

My good old friend Doubt once again filled my mind. Did he have regrets about last night? Was it my fault? Was I disappointing in some way? Probably came across as too desperate and too willing to break my marriage vows to my husband, let alone basic biology and human nature, and he was rightly disgusted with me. Or maybe he had no more use for me now that he'd gotten his way and had finally fucked me. I desperately wanted to ask him why we were being so damn awkward, but was too scared to find out the truth. Instead, we packed up the room in silence and resumed our road trip, for better or for worse.

It was close to two hours into the trip before Joel broke the silence. "Mum?" I visibly jumped at his voice, too lost in my own world staring out the window to realise he'd been trying to get my attention for a minute or so. "Oh, sorry for startling you. Um, about last night: I'm sorry."

Bracing myself for the worst, I asked, "Sorry about what?"

"Sorry for the way I handled last night. I guess this morning I'm really just worried that you thought I just wanted you for your body, but honestly it really is more than that. I really am in love with you - you're so kind and beautiful on the inside, too. You're an amazing mother, but more importantly, you're seriously an amazing woman and Dad is an idiot if he can't see that. But I can see that and I'm so happy to be your son, and I really hope you didn't think I was so shallow that I only find you beautiful on the outside."

"Oh honey, I never thought that. I thought you were awkward because you regretted the entire ...love-making. And I was really thinking I came across as desperate and pathetic and sad, like a clichéd middle-age housewife who's trying to hold onto her youth by having sex with a younger guy. Or that you really only wanted me that one time, you know?"

"You're none of those things. Really. You're so strong and so amazing, I'm truly in love with you, Mum."

"I'm glad you don't think I'm pathetic, I've just been feeling really down lately - it's been so long since your dad has wanted anything to do with me in that way... I guess my self-confidence is just in tatters at the moment."

"Seriously?! I can't believe that you really have to go all the way to Melbourne just so that you can, like, surprise him into having sex with you. Jesus. If you were my wife, I don't think I could even leave the house without fucking you for hours before I went. Um, sorry."

"Wow, no, don't be sorry. About the swearing, or about what you said. You know, I'm starting to think that we have, like, tons in common. Apart from genetic material, that is. I mean emotionally, we're very similar - it's kind of funny how we're both so in sync already."

My husband had never fully understood my emotional fragility, but here was my son not only empathising with me but sharing his vulnerable side with me, too. Holy shit, I think I could really be falling in love with my son. Certainly wouldn't be the worst thing in the world; at least he loves and respects and wants you, and he really does get your neediness, since he's kind of needy too - hell, he probably inherited it from you, Cynthia. It's been years since I've felt this wanted, this sexy, this empowered, this loved. Sure, I've been chasing Mark fruitlessly for probably a year now, but here was a younger, sexier, more emotionally connected version of my husband right in front of me. And when we got to the hotel tonight, I really wanted to show him just how much all that meant to me.

If last night was all about me, that night, I made it all about Joel. As soon as he shut the door, I just about attacked him. I kissed him with all the day's built-up sexual tension and immediately started unbuttoning his shirt without even looking. He responded in kind, kissing me back and unzipping my dress and helping slide it down my body and I stepped out of it. In the twenty seconds I'd had in the room by myself before Joel came in, I noticed the cupboard of our room featured a huge mirror. Stepping backwards, I pulled Joel into the room and in front of the mirror so he could see everything.

I finished unbuttoning my son's shirt and slid it off his back, then moved away from kissing his sweet young mouth and started slowly kissing my way down his neck, my hands rubbing his back and his chest. I licked and sucked each of his nipples, running my tongue in circles as he had done to me the previous night. He ran his hands through my hair and moaned with pleasure. Once I felt that his nipples had gotten enough attention, I continued my way down his torso, kissing further and further down until his belly button. I stopped myself from undoing his pants, instead repositioning myself on my knees in front of him. Looking up at my son, I placed my hands on the waistband of his jeans and said, "Thank you for making me feel sexy again. Consider this a small token of my thanks, my darling."

With that, I undid his button and pulled his zipper down. I slid his pants down, and took a moment to enjoy the sight of his already-hard cock straining against his briefs. He wore a red pair, and I could easily make out the shape of his erection against the bright fabric. As enjoyable as that sight was, I was too eager to see the rest of the show. I pulled his underwear down, careful not to snag his dick on the way down. Then I was face-to-face with my son's thick, eight-inch erection. As a rule, I'm against circumcision, but somehow it looked really good on Joel; his purple head stood proudly pointing at the ceiling, with the beginnings of his natural lubricant starting to form right at the tip. His pubic hair was neatly trimmed to be less than an inch long, just before the hairs started curling. His balls hung below his cock, with wiry pubes sparsely covering his ball sack. Evidently, he's too scared of what a wrong move with a razor or scissors would do to him, so he just leaves that bit au naturale.

I know it sounds like I just stared at his crotch for ages, soaking in every detail, but I don't think I lasted more than five seconds once I'd removed his underwear. I wrapped my right hand around his nice, thick base to keep it still while I readied my mouth to take him inside. I licked my lips, partly for show and partly to moisten them, opened my jaw wide, and then my son's cock was in my mouth for the first time. I let about 3 inches in my mouth and touched my tongue to the underside of his dick, then moved my head back and forth, sliding my lips and tongue up and down on Joel's purple head. Looking at the spectacle in the mirror, Joel groaned in delight as he watched his mother's head bobbing up and down on his cock as I started to give him oral pleasure.

Jesus, when was the last time I'd had Mark's cock in my mouth? Joel was probably still in primary school. Even though I was so very out of practice, I don't think it ever showed. I picked up the motions and the tongue positions as though I'd never stopped giving head. I closed my eyes and moaned as I tasted my boy's cock, relishing the naughty salty-sweet flavour of his precum. Wait, why close my eyes when I could be enjoying the sight as much as he is? I opened my eyes and looked across to the mirror and saw us there, him completely naked and with a look of pure ecstasy on his face. I looked at his butt in the mirror, and felt disappointed with myself for never having noticed it before. So very firm, and barely any hair on it. I lifted my lazy left hand from where it was resting on his calf and moved it to its new home on his right butt cheek and squeezed it. I massaged his butt like he massaged my boobs - rhythmically, in perfect sync to my mouth movements. Back to the mirror, I also had trouble taking my eyes off myself, as conceited as that may sound. Instead of my usual t-shirt bra, I was wearing my black lacy balcony bra and the matching bikini briefs it came with. The bra helped give my breasts a much nicer, more spherical shape and in addition to giving me great cleavage, the balcony cut also served to accentuate my flat stomach. Kneeling in front of my son, my lacy briefs also helped lift my butt, making my cheeks look much more perky than they usually do. Seeing myself in that light, I finally did start to see that Mark couldn't be turning me down because of my looks.

Feeling more confident after checking out my own body, I started to get more adventurous with my oral skills. I caught Joel's gaze in the mirror and started licking the tip of his cock clockwise and counterclockwise, slowly at first, then gradually building speed. After a few revolutions, I changed up my style again - this time, I focused just on the underside of his tip, quickly licking the very sensitive spot where the ridge meets the shaft. He moaned very deeply, almost growling as I did so. Reading his signal - "I don't wanna cum yet" - I shifted gears again, this time focusing more on his shaft. I licked up and down either side of his shaft, as well as the underside, each time stopping just before the ridge of his cock head. I could feel he was about ready to move on, but before he could, I decided to challenge myself to see just how much of my son's dick I could take in my mouth. Wrapping my lips around his head once again, I slowly slid my mouth down his head, over his ridge, and down his shaft, watching in the mirror as more than half his cock disappeared into my mouth. Slowly but surely making my way down, I hit my limit at a little over six inches. Still, not a bad effort considering Joel would later tell me that I have a "small mouth for giving blowjobs."

"Holy fuck yes, Mum," he groaned as I started sliding my lips back towards the tip. "That felt so goddamn good. Now stand up for me."

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't caught off-guard by the slightly commanding tone in his voice, but I did as he wanted and stood up again - I did say tonight was to be all about him. He ran his hands over my arms and shoulders while his striking hazel eyes roamed all over my body, from my face to my breasts to my crotch and all over again. Hands on my shoulders, he spun me around slowly. In the mirror, I could see him staring at my back and my butt.

"Jesus, you have a fucking amazing body," he informed me. "I wanna fuck you so hard; tell me you don't want it hard, Mum."

I couldn't tell if that was a genuine question, or just part of whatever power fantasy he was now acting out, but either way I remained silent. Taking my silence as permission to proceed, he unhooked my bra while kissing my neck. Once I'd removed it properly, he stepped in close behind me. His cock pressed into my back, still wet from my mouth. He brushed my hair to one side and started kissing my neck and sucking my earlobe. I moaned, powerless to resist my suddenly very confident son. Then, with his left hand, Joel started squeezing my breasts while he ran his right hand down over my stomach and grabbed the elastic waistband of my briefs. He slid my underwear down to just above my knees, letting gravity do the rest. I dutifully stepped out of the pile they created with my left foot and used my right to kick them away from us.

"On your knees, Mum; I think we're both ready now." I completely agreed, and did as he commanded. I dropped onto my hands and knees, flicking my hair away so it wouldn't obscure anybody's view of my body in the mirror. Joel quickly dropped down to his knees as well and, cock in hand, expertly guided himself inside me. It had honestly been more than a decade since I'd done it doggy style. I had never particularly enjoyed it with Mark; the whole thing felt very degrading to me, how I felt like I just had to stay there on my hands and knees while he dominated me, fucking me like a primitive life form. But, somehow, with Joel I didn't feel that way. It's hard to pinpoint why; maybe it was because I was genuinely (but happily) thrown by his sudden change in demeanour that night. Or maybe it was simply that I was so incredibly horny, I didn't care how he fucked me in that moment - I had said tonight would be all about him, after all. Whatever it was, I sure as hell wasn't complaining.

Once he was inside me, Joel started fucking me almost immediately. He held my hips firmly in each hand while he used his whole body to thrust in and out of my slippery-wet opening. I grunted and moaned each time he shoved the full length of his cock inside me, hard enough to make a wet slapping sound. It took me about a minute or two after being taken to remember there was a mirror in our room. I lifted my head and watched almost in a trance at Joel's butt as he thrust his body towards mine. I could see my boobs hanging down and swinging like pendulums, bouncing in time with Joel's rhythmic fucking. I watched him raise his right hand about level with his stomach, and I watched him bring it down on my right butt cheek with a smack that filled the room.

It was the first time I'd been spanked in decades, so I squealed, loudly. But...it wasn't an unhappy squeal. Yes, it stung, and he did leave a red mark on my cheek in the shape of his hand, but by that point I'd already committed to giving into his every wish that night, and I didn't care. It wasn't as though he did it maliciously, either; this was a playful-but-dominant butt smack between (very) consenting sexual partners, so I asked him for another. I watched as he smiled at me in the mirror, then spanked me again, on the left cheek for a matching mark.

That second smack seemed to wake me up from my laziness. I suddenly realised he was probably wanting a bit more participation on my end, rather than just being a wet and willing hole for him to fuck. I moaned his name and started thrusting my butt towards him, meeting his thrusts in the middle.

"Fuck yeah, just like that," he grunted approvingly. After 54 years on this planet and 36 years of sexual activity, I finally understood how to participate in doggy style. Rather than kneeling and simply feeling degraded while some guy fucked at me from a dominant position, Joel helped me see that I could actually contribute and enjoy myself, too. As lame as it might sound, it was actually a very happy moment for me. Suddenly, doggy style's very primal, rough and animalistic nature took on a new, almost liberating light.

Staring at us in the mirror, I saw Joel's tight butt. I stared at his sexy, masculine body glistening with a fine layer of sweat. I could even see his hard, young, very thick cock disappearing and reappearing from my vagina. I watched my breasts bouncing and swinging hypnotically while we fucked. I saw my flat-but-firm butt, the faint red outline of Joel's hands from his intermittent spanking glowing in the florescent lights of the cheap motel we were staying in tonight. I saw my face, smiling in ecstasy for the second night in a row after far too long. I studied my hips, gripped tight by my son, and concentrated on my movements. I thrust back towards Joel's body as hard and as fast as he thrust forward into me. Finally, I was doing doggy properly - fucking back at the man who was fucking me. I loved every second of it, and I wished we could take the mirror with us when we left; I never wanted to have sex without one again.

That night, Joel lasted close to 10 minutes of pure fucking, which I think is especially impressive for a guy as young as him. Eventually, though, he moaned "I'm gonna cum, Mum," and without any further warning, he withdrew his cock from inside me. As though his life depended on it, Joel stood up and told me to get back on my knees in front of him. I've never actually watched porn, but I'd heard enough to know both what my son wanted me to do, and where he got the idea. Of course, I obliged him and knelt in front of him, staring up at him and his soaking wet cock. He pumped it with one hand as he gazed down at me, staring into my eyes, then down to my breasts, and further still to my crotch. I took the opportunity to make a show for him, holding and squeezing my breasts with my left hand while I masturbated with my right. I guess I was feeling a little neglected in that department after the previous night, but I certainly wasn't resentful of Joel; after all, it was my idea to jump him and blow him the second we got into the room.

I rubbed my clit between my index and middle fingers, playing with my boobs and my nipples while I stared up at my son and watched him jerking off, eager to shoot his cum all over me. I really did like what I saw - a beautiful young boy pleasuring himself to the sight of me, regardless of my age or the fact I'd given birth to him. Those reasons were probably why I was able to cum so quickly, without any proper stimulation before my hand. My knees drew together, my face went bright red and my left hand squeezed my left breast so hard and quickly I found fingernail scratches the next morning. I felt my neck tense up and draw my head back, arching my back and pushing out my breasts even further towards my son. I could feel them jiggle as I spasmed with my orgasmic waves. My mouth was wide open as I moaned with pure pleasure, not even thinking about what a show I must've been putting on for Joel. But apparently that was what he needed to push over the edge.

This will probably make me sound very boring in bed, but before that moment, I had only ever had guys cum inside me. I now know that it's fairly common these days for guys to cum on girls' bodies but it was a completely new experience for me that evening. My orgasm had only just subsided when Joel groaned "Cumming..." I stared in open-mouthed wonder at his cock erupting and spewing forth its precious white liquid. I watched, transfixed, as his cum shot towards me, hitting me all over with his hot, sticky mess. I think he was aiming for my chest, but he needs to work on his aim a little. The first, biggest load hit me in the neck and slid down over my collarbone, down my chest and over my right nipple. The second rope of cum landed higher, hitting me on my upper lip, oozing down into the corner of my mouth. Before I knew what I was doing, I instinctively licked at it, taking his cum into my mouth. I actually enjoyed the salty bitterness of his cum and wished he had gotten more than just that little bit into my mouth. The third and fourth wads of my son's cum landed right on my left breast and dripped down into my cleavage. The fifth spurt of my son's cum landed on my neck again, but remained fairly in place. Six and seven dripped straight onto the carpet between us, and that's how I knew he was done. Once again, I wrapped my lips around his cock and cleaned his purple head of all his precum and whatever remnants of his actual cum and my juices there happened to be. I swallowed while staring at myself in the mirror - totally naked on my knees in front of my son, coated in his cum - pleasantly surprised at the woman I was rapidly becoming.

"And again, that was amazing, Mum," my son exclaimed while staring down at all the cum he'd sprayed me with.

"You don't need to tell me that, baby. You know, that was the first time I've actually enjoyed doggy style? It always felt so ...degrading before now, but thank you for helping me see the fun side of it." Looking down at my chest, I asked, "Now, exactly what should I do about this?" I pointed to the numerous patches of cum that would soon be drying on my skin. Did he want me to gather it up and lick it? Wash it off? Let it dry?

"Can I watch while you, um, rub it in?" Amazing how quickly some guys lose their confidence after they cum, isn't it? I giggled at the suggestion, relieved I didn't have to lick it up from my own skin. Of course, I made a show of it for him: I started with the load on my face, wiping it up and moving it down to my neck. I started rubbing Joel's cum into my skin on my neck and chest, then moved my hands down and began massaging my breasts with his cum. It took longer than I was expecting to rub it all in until it was dry. Still, though, I rubbed it all over myself, covering my nipples and spreading out my son's sticky white cum evenly over my breasts while he watched, possibly wishing he had more to shower me with.

Once Joel had regained his breath, we showered together for the first time in two decades. He very fastidiously washed his cum off my breasts while I giggled like a schoolgirl. We made out under the hot water, our hands serving the dual purposes of exploring each other's naked skin and washing each other at the same time. He was clearly ready to go again, but I had to be the mother and tell him that it was getting to be after 8 o'clock and we'd better have some dinner, then I smiled suggestively and told him it'd help him regain his strength.

We went out to a nearby pub that Joel informed me had "pretty good, pretty cheap" meals. My son was a true gentleman and paid for my drinks and my meal, and only allowed himself one beer. We definitely drew some looks from some of the other patrons when we would kiss each other on the mouths while waiting for our meals as we sat in a corner booth. I confess I did enjoy the feeling of being affectionate in public, knowing we were getting looks of "are they a couple or are they actually mother and son?". If only I could've told them it was both! Joel had a steak while I (predictably) had a Caesar salad, allowing myself to be a little naughty by asking for extra bacon. I guess you could say it was our first date, and considering that, it was actually a really nice night. We sat side-by-side in the booth, just chatting the way that Mark and I used to do.

I probably shouldn't have said it in a public area, but I was starting to reach the point where I didn't care what other people thought anymore. "Sorry if I'm sounding like a broken record, baby, but it's been more than a decade since your father and I fucked like you and I have been. And, I've been keeping this to myself for a little while, but yours is definitely the nicer dick."

He just about choked on his steak. "Is that a fact?"

"Honestly, yeah. I mean, yours and his are about the same length, but yours is thicker and that's what matters. Plus it's just nicer to look at, if you ask me."

He just nodded, and it suddenly got very awkward between us again.

"Oh honey, I'm sorry if I made it weird. It's just... I don't mean to compare you to your dad, but when I do, you're always the winner. I guess I'm just so happy to have an enthusiastic lover again, and it's just so refreshing to feel so wanted again. But from now on, I'm going to do my best to not mention him in that way again, okay?"

"Deal." He looked off into the distance the way he always did before he started one of his patented rants. "I'm sorry to get uncomfortable, but you probably wouldn't like hearing about how your great, big tits are much nicer than any of my ex's, or that you give BJs much better than Michelle, right?"

Backhanded as the compliments were, I completely understood what he was saying. "You're right, sweetie. From now on, it's just about us and nobody else."

The meal went back to normal after that, and he even started rubbing my back while he waited for me to finish my drink so we could head back to our room. Unfortunately, by the time we made it back, it was almost 10 o'clock and Joel's early sleeping pattern meant he was just about ready to fall asleep after brushing his teeth. Even though we'd had so much fun earlier in the night, I'm ashamed to say I was disappointed to know he wasn't up for round two. Oh well, there was always tomorrow night.

After I finished brushing my teeth, Joel was in bed in just his boxer shorts, struggling to keep his eyes open. I climbed in beside him wearing my slip, and kissed him goodnight in a very different way to I'd done when he was a child. He kissed me back, and lay down on his back. I put my head on his chest and fell asleep with my arm draped over him. Later on in the night, I woke up lying on my side while Joel was spooning me. His hand was resting on my boob and I felt his hard cock pressing into my arse. Not sure if he was awake and sending me a signal or not, I decided to try signalling him at any rate, letting him know I was definitely keen for some sleepy sex. I moved my hips, grinding against his cock and moaned happily. I grabbed his hand and pressed it firmly into my breast, hoping he'd grab onto me. Of course, he was still asleep, so I was again a little disappointed. It took probably ten minutes for my frustration to die down enough to let me go back to sleep.

The next morning, I knew we had a fair bit of a drive so I decided not to try for some morning sex. Instead, I decided to see to what extent I could still dress sexily. I got changed that morning into a very revealing outfit for a woman my age - denim skirt, a button-up short sleeved shirt with only two buttons done up around my breasts, and no bra. I hadn't worn anything that deliberately provocative or revealing since my early 30s, so I was a bit nervous about whether I could still pull it off. When he came out of the bathroom after brushing his teeth, Joel did a double-take, exclaiming "Holy shit, Mum! Jesus, I'm one fucking lucky son."

That comment had me beaming all morning. "Thank you, my darling baby. I hope you don't think it's too, um, distracting for the drive?"

He ran his hands down my sides, paused at my hips, then traced a light circle around my exposed belly button. It tickled and I giggled, but stood in place, letting him enjoy my figure. Joel slowly slid his finger up my stomach, past my sternum and poked at the two buttons I'd done up. "So long as those very hard-working buttons hold, I'll do my best to just focus on the road instead of your body and we should be fine." Even though I was tingling from his soft, sensual touch, that was good enough for me, so we headed out and on the road for our third day, and our second as a couple.

I couldn't help it, I was horny. Before lunchtime, we were on a very boring, straight stretch of road and we hadn't seen another car for more than 45 minutes. To fight off the yawns, I started talking to Joel about last night's sleep.

"Hey baby, last night, probably around 2 AM or so, did you know you were spooning me?"

"Sounds possible, but I don't remember it. Why's that?"

"Oh, it's just that you had your hand on my..." I had never used this word in front of my son before, so I paused, gathering up courage. Isn't that stupid? After all we'd done already, I still had to ready myself to talk dirty. "You were holding one of my tits in one hand, while your big cock was very hard and pressing through my undies and against my butt cheeks." I could feel myself getting hot and tingly in the face as well as between my legs, and based on the way he was shifting in his seat, I thought I might've been having an impact on my darling baby son, too. "I just wanted to tell you that it felt so warm, and very very solid, and I started grinding my ass against it, hoping you'd wake up and fuck me as hard as you did earlier."

"God, I wish I had been awake, Mum. And can I just say again how ridiculously sexy what you're wearing is? You look like you're about to spill out of it here, you fucking tease," he said as he reached over with his left hand and started fondling my breasts, eyes still focused on the road. Showing very impressive dexterity, he moved my seatbelt out to the way and undid one of my two buttons with just the one hand, then he quickly began work on the other. Not wanting my son to have all the fun, I reached over and grabbed his very erect dick through his jeans, squeezing it while he squeezed my now-liberated breasts.

"Fuck it," he groaned. With that, he slammed on the brakes and pulled the truck over to the shoulder of the road, parking it in neutral. He unbuckled his seatbelt and hopped out of the cab.

Joel practically sprinted around to my side of the truck, opened my door and helped me down and out of the cab. Hand-in-hand, we ran a few metres into the knee-high grass, my breasts bouncing freely as the sun shone down on us. I lay on my back in the dry grass while my sun unzipped his jeans and pulled them down to his ankles. I unbuttoned my skirt and slid it down past my knees and spread my legs for the boy I'd birthed and raised.

He knelt before me, dick in hand, and rubbed his cockhead against my moist labia, lubricating himself with my juices. I thought he was about to enter me, but then he started rubbing the head of his cock on my clitoris. Side-to-side, while staring into my eyes and rubbing my nipples with his free hand.

"Oooh baby, that feels so good." My baby boy's smooth head stimulating my most sensitive area while the hot sun beat down on my naked body, tanning me in places that had I never been tan. He leant down to suck my nipples while he kept rubbing my clit with his dick. Circling his tongue around one nipple, then the other, sucking and moaning contentedly while I ran my fingers through his hair. Steadily increasing the pace, he rubbed his cock faster and faster against my clit, and I welcomed the familiar feeling of pressure building in my crotch. Within moments, the pressure became too much, and I gasped and moaned while I rode my orgasm like a wave. My back arched and my eyes rolled back while my stomach spasmed and my toes curled, and I clenched my fists, grabbing a fistful of dirt in one hand and a fistful of Joel's hair in the other while he sucked at my breasts.

I hadn't even finished cumming when Joel thrust his cock into my eager, wet opening. Because I was still convulsing from my orgasm, I was tighter than he'd ever felt me before, and he moaned loudly as he slid his thick dick into my vagina.

"You're so tight, Mum!" he cried as he started moving his hips back and forth, fucking me and prolonging my orgasm. Where previously he'd stared into my eyes as we had sex, this time he was focused on looking down at his cock as he fucked his mother in the hot, dry air.

"You feel so fucking big, my baby," I informed him. I started thrusting my hips in time with his, crazy with desire as we fucked in the broad daylight, outside and completely exposed to the world. Goddamn, what a spiritual experience - making love in the grass while birds sang and flies buzzed around us, and wind occasionally rustled through the sparse trees surrounding the road. Joel now lifted his head and slid his tongue into my open mouth. I closed my lips around his tongue and sucked, inhaling deeply through my nose and enjoying the earthy musk of my son's natural scent. I reached down with both hands and grabbed his tight, hard-working butt cheeks, digging my fingernails in slightly while feeling and guiding his thrusts down into myself.

A car drove past us, beeping its horn as the driver slowed down to check out the show we'd forgotten we were putting on for anybody who happened by. I chuckled, but Joel looked irritated. "Don't worry about them, my darling, they just like what they see. Now ignore them and just keep on fucking your mother, baby." His tongue went straight back into my mouth and he thrust harder and faster now, clearly motivated by my very incestuous dirty talk. I spanked his cheeks as a way of telling him to fuck me harder still. I clenched my pelvic wall muscles, tightening myself around his cock so I could feel every ridge and vein in my son's impressive manhood. Thrusting as hard as he possibly could, he groaned constantly, squeezing my breasts just as he'd done our first night together.

"That's it, honey; just like that. Such a good boy, you know just what Mum wants, don't you?" Every single time I'd tried dirty talk before, I felt like such an idiot. But my son clearly fucking loved it, and like I'm sure I've said a dozen times by now, I loved knowing I could turn him on as much as I did. "I want you to cum inside me again, Joel; fill your mother up with your cum, my darling son."

He kissed my neck and sucked at my earlobe while keeping the incredibly fast pace I'd set for him. "Keep talking, Mum, I'm getting close."

"Ooh, good boy! Fuck Mum hard with your big, thick cock," I moaned into his ear. "I want your cum deep inside me, baby boy, you beautiful motherfucker. Shoot it right up there, Joel. Such a good son. Mummy loves you so much."

That just about did it. Seconds later, he was yelling out "I'm gonna fucking explode, Mum!"

"Good boy," I cooed. "Cum for your mother, my darling baby boy." And he certainly didn't disappoint. He arched his back, shoving his dick as far inside me as he could. His stomach spasmed as he yelled into the wilderness. My muscles clenching tight around his cock, I felt ever spurt of cum rising from the base of my son's manhood, then bursting out and into my insides. His orgasm lasted more than 30 seconds, and he must've shot at least eight or nine distinct loads of cum into my vagina. Not quite as much as our first night together, but noticeably more than the amount he'd shot onto my breasts last night. "That's my boy," I whispered as I kissed his neck.

As tempting as it was to just lie naked in the grass and see how quickly it'd take to get a sunburn, Joel was still technically working, and we still had a fair amount of ground to cover before we reached our last stop before Melbourne. Sure, less than five minutes had passed since we pulled over, but we were still on a deadline. He gave me a quick but passionate kiss on the lips and gathered up his clothes. I followed him, brushing the dirt and grass from my back and my butt cheeks. I knew before I even saw my shadow that my hair was a mess, but hey - that showed just how quick and dirty our little pitstop was. We both got dressed and returned to the idling truck.

He offered me some tissues for the cum that would inevitably leak out, but I declined. This will probably sound really kinky or even perverse, but I really enjoy the feeling of cum leaking out of me. It's probably why I'd never had (or let) anyone cum on my breasts or face before Joel. So I let it all ooze out during the course of our drive. It really turned me on feeling all my son's semen leaking out and staining my underwear and then my skirt. I don't think he minded seeing it either, actually. Having had my fill for a little while, I decided to be kind to Joel and so I did up three of the buttons on my shirt this time. We chatted and rested our hands on each other's legs as he drove.

I dozed off occasionally, and one time when I woke up, my son informed me that I looked "so damn cute" when I slept. "Not as cute as you did when you napped as a boy, my darling son," I teased. He went very red at that, and I chose to make it worse by telling him, "And you're looking very cute right now, blushing away."

"Shut up, Mum," he joked back. Just to make sure I knew he was joking, he kissed my hand. "I love you so much, beautiful."

"And I love you too, my big handsome man."

We arrived too late at the hotel to have another proper date, but we still enjoyed our dinner - takeaway fish and chips. That night, we got ready for bed as usual, with Joel already in bed when I emerged from the bathroom without my slip. "Ready for round two?" I enquired.

Joel answered by flicking the sheets off, revealing to me his naked - and very ready - body. I went to climb on top of him as usual, then thought of a better idea. Instead, I told him to roll on his side, and naturally he followed my instructions. I climbed onto the bed and lay beside my son with my head facing his cock and his head lined up with my womanhood.

"69? Fuck, you're the best mum ever," he informed me.

I held his hard dick with one hand and started the night's activity by licking my son's moist, purple head. Drawing circles with my tongue, his cock jumped involuntarily in delight. Not to be outdone by pleasurable tongue work, Joel followed suit and lifted my leg with his hand and held firmly onto my hip as he put his mouth to my clit. I was already feeling wet, but Joel's tongue kicked me into overdrive. He licked up and down my opening before returning to my clit, which he licked with his expert precision. I opened my mouth and put his cock in my mouth. I let go of his shaft and moved my hand to his butt and massaged it. I bobbed my head up and down the length of his long, thick shaft, pressing my tongue against the head, and started moving my hips in rhythm to my head movements, encouraging his wonderful, wet tongue. He let go of my hip and slid his fingers inside me as he sped up his tongue licking my clit. In and out, side-to-side, his fingers fucked me and his tongue licked me. Up and down, I moved my head over his cock. I felt myself getting closer to cumming, so in the interest of his safety, I took my son's cock out of my mouth and started licking the tip again, occasionally kissing it to rest my tongue. He slid another finger into my opening, now fingering me with three fingers. I tightened myself around his fingers and gyrated my hips against his frantic tongue.

"Make Mum cum, Joel," I begged him. To this day, I don't know whether he has an incest fetish (I've never dared ask him whether he's attracted to Kirsty) or if he just loved having sex with a woman happens to be his mother. Either way, he loved when I referred to myself in the third person in my dirty talk. I didn't mind it either, to be honest.

His tongue just about exhausted, his hands getting sore from squeezing into my tight hole, Joel must've felt just as relieved as I did when he finally got me over the edge after so much build up. The waves washed over me, and my vagina squeezed so tight I pushed Joel's fingers out. I bucked and spasmed in his face, coating his stubble-beard with my lubricating juices. I squealed and moaned and gasped as I writhed on the bed next to my son; my lover.

Ignoring my body's need for a slight recovery time, I pushed Joel onto his back and I repositioned myself on top of him. Staring into his eyes with my legs on either side of his beautiful young body, I guided his cock inside me. I slid down on his rock hard cock while he stared up at my body. My hands behind my head, I rocked my hips back and forth and began fucking my son. Riding his cock while he stared up at my jiggling breasts, I moaned his name. He just stared up at me, admiring every inch of my mature body, making me feel as beautiful and desirable as I had when I was his age. I couldn't believe how long it had taken me to see just how many positives there were to giving in to his constant advances, and it was even more surprising just how quickly all my reservations had disappeared once we began our forbidden, incestuous affair.

Joel soon snapped out of his breast-induced hypnosis and reached up to squeeze my breasts. Once he had hold of me, he started thrusting his hips upwards, matching the rhythm of me riding his cock. I placed my hands on his and leaned forward, lifting my butt up and off his body, letting him pound into me. I turned my head so he could kiss my neck and earlobe, and my hair spilled down over his face. Undeterred, he left it there and moved his hands from my tits and held my butt as he drove his cock upwards into my vagina. I put my weight into my arms and drove my body down onto his cock in time with his upthrusts. Our bodies made wet smacking sounds that filled the room each time we collided.

Thank God he'd cum earlier that day; Joel lasted incredibly well that night. Holding onto my butt, he sat up in the bed and pushed me down onto my back. He was now kneeling on the bed while I was at an angle on my back. My legs were up in the air and my head was on the bed, looking up past my breasts and up to my vagina, where my body finished and my son's began. Without missing a beat, he resumed fucking me, my breasts bouncing close to my face each time he thrust his massive tool deep inside me. He held my thighs for balance with one hand, and used the other to rub my clit. It was almost too much sensation to handle, but fuck, I was never going to ask him to stop. I played with my tits for his benefit, squeezing my breasts and pinching and pulling at my nipples.

"So fucking good, Mum," he grunted at me. I had to agree; it was very good sex, just like every other time we'd done it so far. I put my arms out, and without a word, he knew exactly what to do. He pulled me up and now we were both sitting on the bed, face to face. I crossed my legs behind him and held his shoulders while he shifted his legs, making a kind of cradle for me to rock in. He wrapped his arms around me, rubbing his hands on my back as we stared lovingly into each other's eyes.

I leaned in and kissed him, his stubble-beard still moist from my juices. Surprisingly, I didn't mind the taste of my vagina in that context. Anyway, I used my tongue to open his mouth and bring his tongue out to play again. Our tongues danced closely between our locked-open mouths and we mutually fucked each other in the sitting position we'd just stumbled into. My hips rocking, feeling his cock sliding in and out of me, kissing my very sexually talented son, completely forgetting the world around us. I could certainly get used to that.

I completely lost track of how long we stayed in that very easy, very intimate position. By the time Joel broke our kiss to tell me he was getting ready to cum again, sweat covered both our bodies, and my hair felt like I'd just stepped out of a shower. I stared into his glistening eyes and ignored the sweat dripping down my armpits and forehead, and he ignored the drops trickling down his own face and body. In fact, the smell of my son's sex-sweat just made me all the more eager for his cum.

"Gonna cum inside you, Mum," he moaned.

"That's it, baby, cum in your mother again," I cooed, and already I could feel his cock starting to swell inside me. I leaned forward and resumed our kiss, and soon I could feel and hear him moaning as he started to climax again. Even though it'd only been a few hours, he came just as much as he had cum by the side of the road. I tightened my pelvic floor muscles again as I rode his squirting cock, milking all the cum out of it that I could.

Weak from his second huge orgasm that day, Joel collapsed backwards onto the bed. Feeling very much the same, I soon joined him. We lay side by side, exhausted and waiting for the sweat to dry from our naked bodies, but very much in love. I admitted to him just how turned on I got by the feeling of his cum leaking out of me, and he confessed that he loved knowing it was happening too. We said our now-frequent "I love you"s and drifted off to a well-earned sleep, neither of us wanting to think about the fact that in less than 18 hours I'd be at my husband's hotel after a 5 hour drive.

The next morning's drive was a quiet one; neither of us spoke very much at all. We were still very affectionate - holding hands and some light kissing, but nobody wanted to bring up the subject of what we'd do once Joel dropped me off. With less than an hour to go on the drive, I finally gathered enough courage and told Joel I didn't want this to be the end of our relationship.

"Me either, Mum; it's just that it's going to be a lot different than the last couple of days have been. But I think we're both willing to work at it, don't you?"

"Absolutely, sweetheart. Nothing has to change except maybe the frequency, but I'm sure we'll find ways to work around that too."

Joel agreed, and we both relaxed a bit more, having had that briefest of chats about the future. Before I knew it, we were as close to the hotel as Joel could get me in his truck.

"I suppose I should say good luck, Mum?" he asked. "If Dad gets half of the love that I've gotten the last few days, he's a very lucky man indeed."

"Thank you, darling. And thank you for everything you've given me the last few days. Especially my confidence in my body and myself again. I'm so, so sorry it took me so long to see just how good it could be with you, baby," I apologised. "Cheating on my husband and committing incest with you are the two best sins I think I've ever committed."

"The feeling's more than mutual, Mum." Joel reassured. "Thank you for being a great mother all my life, and for making my greatest, dirtiest fantasies come true." He kissed me on the mouth and before I left his cab he told me the address of his motel "just in case." I thanked him again, gathered up my luggage, and made my way to the hotel.

I find room 464 and knocked. Mark was a good husband in that he always told me were he was staying, right down to the room number. While I waited, I did a last minute adjustment, straightening my dress and rearranging my boobs in my bra to look a little bit bigger, then ran my hand through my hair in lieu of a brush. Mark opened the door.

"