2

"Well, how about this as something to wear when we go out for a drink and bite tonight?"

You often hear the term 'double-take' but I think that Ben's reaction to my little black number was the most effective I'd ever seen. And the 'oh, wow!' that followed was a joy to my ears.

The dress was short in the skirt department and its strappy top was designed to let the top hang low enough in the chest area to ensure that the inner sides of my breasts were just about visible. Deeply cut arm holes ensured the outer sides could be seen as well should my arms allow it. As Ben sat up – in every sense – I gave a quick twirl, the skirt flaring to within an inch or two of exposing more of me than anyone but Ben had seen for many a long month.

I laughed in the face of the reaction from my son which was bringing such joy. "I take it that you approve?"

"It's... wow."

"Not a little too revealing?"

"No! I mean, I was just hoping that maybe we could be seen out together, maybe even... kissing, if you don't mind too much, but that... wow!"

"I could take it off and wear something–"

Ben stood up and put out a hand to stop me pushing one of the shoulder straps down my arm, "No, ma! Please? It's perfect!"

I laughed, stepping backwards, "Okay, I'll leave it on. One condition though."

My son's relieved face smiled broadly, "What?"

"This dress is black in case you hadn't noticed, so keep that messy – but gorgeous – cock away from it! It's almost eight o'clock so go get cleaned up and we can hit a bar, if you want?"

Ben almost ran to the bathroom and I sat myself in front of the room's long desk, switching on its strip light.

I reached into my holdall and rooted around until I found my make-up bag. My hairbrush was first out and I spent a couple of minutes teasing the pillow-tangles out of my tresses before finding my eye-liner and carefully applying some darkness to the edges of my eyelids. I knew from a wealth of past experience that I could make myself look like no older than thirty – if the lights were pretty low wherever we went – and knew that my son already looked somewhere in his mid-twenties. It wasn't that I didn't mind being seen together with a much younger guy, but (I told myself) I wanted it more than apparent that I couldn't be more than a handful of years older than him let alone a whole generation older...

None of which stopped me thinking that I was about to be seen out – and kissing – my very own son. A little shudder ran delightfully down my spine.

I took another look down at myself, at the little dress, and another shudder followed the first. I hadn't worn anything so potentially revealing for almost twenty years and the thought of strangers' eyes looking at me dressed like it was scary but exciting. And if – when – Ben found it exciting as well, just how aroused would that make me? I leant forward and had to stifle a gasp as my nipples could just be seen – actually seen – within the tiny confines of the tiny garment. Would anyone else see them? Would a stranger peer down at me and become aroused at the view? Did I really, genuinely hope so? Well...

"Ma?"

Ben had come back into the room wearing a smart, dark outfit that I guessed he must have bought especially for our trip. Very tight, very mature and very sexy.

"Ready if you are," I said.

"I am," he insisted, "As long as you're okay being seen out with me?"

"Can't wait. As long as I'm not too risqué for you?"

"I'll do my best not to make sure you reveal too much," he assured me in a tone that made me think he wasn't convincing himself, let alone me.

A third shudder threatened to slip the shoulder straps down my arms before we'd even left the confines of the hotel room, "I'll do my best to make sure you don't," I laughed, less than convinced. I picked up my tiny clutch bag and offered him my arm, "Shall we?"

He took my arm and turned us toward the door, "I had meant to kiss you before we left," he told me, "but I think that might lead to us not leaving for half an hour or so."

"I think, all in all, we'd better leave before I lose my nerve!"

*****

All of the fantasies I had secretly harboured for so long, all of the self-teasing both Ben and I had discussed in bed (or on the sofa), all of the silly, fun, daring games I had played indoors, they were all nothing compared to the reality of stepping out of the little hotel next to my son, dressed in such a skimpy outfit. I felt almost naked – fairly naturally – and the gentle breeze that washed in off the sea and across my legs and almost bare breasts just emphasised that fact. When coupled with the beautiful body at my side, I admit that I felt very moist just walking down the street. That sensation trebled when we arrived at the first night club and Ben drew us to a halt with a questioning look at the entrance.

"If you're sure?" I managed.

He nodded, obviously not able to bring himself to speak.

There was a long pause before I managed to take the first step, and after that it became very much easier. Mainly because Ben almost charged inside, dragging me behind him.

Inside it was rather dark, a relief to me, and I was able to stand back from the bar as Ben ordered two large glasses of wine. Even a few feet back from the bar counter I still received an interested look from the barman, enough to raise my blood pressure, and more than enough to make me feel just as underdressed as I really was.

Ben turned to face me and nodded as a table towards the edge of the dreary room and I happily led the way, suddenly grateful to be out of the spotlight.

We took our seats and I managed to smile broadly, no matter how nervous felt. "Well," I said, "here we are, out in the big wide world."

He took a gulp of wine, "Yeah, me with the most gorgeous woman around."

I surveyed the rather quiet room, "Not much competition."

Ben looked terribly flushed, "But can I... can we kiss now?"

My heart skipped a beat, and regardless of the fact that we were unknown to everyone present – all ten of them – I felt so very exposed in the oddest way, "Well... I guess that was one of the reasons we came all the way out here..."

Ben rose and scooted his stool close up next to mine, sat back down and put an arm around my shoulders. "Oh, ma," he whispered, his face moving close to mine.

"Make 'ma' short for Marie, okay? It might not be my name but it might save embarrassment." I was prevaricating.

And then he kissed me.

He was – we were – tentative at first, our lips barely touching. We both cast furtive glances around us and only the barman, smiling now, had seen the contact. I imagined he thought we were illicit lovers, alone at the beach at last. If only he knew, I thought. This is illicit. I leaned into my son and kissed him deeply.

Ben seemed reluctant, almost – for maybe two seconds. Then he returned the pressure. The kiss lingered, deeper then. And I parted my lips a little, an invitation.

The offer seemed to galvanise my son and he pressed back hard against me, his tongue probing into my mouth, his arm tightening on my shoulders. There was reluctance, almost, for a few seconds and then... oh and then we kissed properly, eagerly, in front of a very few people, but in the open nonetheless.

I raised my hands to Ben's cheeks and pulled him even tighter to my own face. And kissed and kissed and kissed. His hands dropped to my sides and he pulled me close, and I welcomed his touches, draping my hands over his shoulders, aware that my dress gaped under my arms but happy to show the world that I adored my lover.

The kiss lasted for ten seconds or maybe an hour. I neither knew nor cared. My nipples were rigid then against the flimsy material of the dress and when Ben's hands slid down my sides, his bare thumbs sliding down the sides of my equally bare breasts I just kissed deeper.

We parted, finally, my breathing fast and shallow and I let out a strangled laugh, "Hey, careful you or I'll make a real mess of this seat!"

"You think you have troubles," he was panting back at me, "I'm not far off making a real mess inside my new clothes."

"Good!"

"Ma... Marie... You are so fucking sexy, so gorgeous!"

"You make me feel it, too. Dare we dance here?"

Ben stared into my eyes then glanced around the bar which was gradually filling, "I want everyone to see how lucky I am, okay?"

"Not let them see too much, I hope?"

"No, just how gorgeous you look in that dress."

There's no way I would have dared get up and dance for anyone else, but right then, so quickly, Ben was making me feel wild. "Let's do it then."

Just like entering the place, Ben almost dragged me, running, to the dance floor. The music was Club on Prozac, smooth and slow, and I started to gyrate in front of my boy the second I had my balance back. I stretched and twirled slowly, desperately aware of the amount of flesh that I was displaying – always just shy of showing off too much, but always showing a lot. Ben was entranced, moving slowly and easily in front of me, the occasional hand touching my shoulder.

I had imagined I would need a good few drinks inside me before I even hit the dance floor, but I was intoxicated by kissing Ben in front of all these people, and now I was equally drunk with my own sexuality. I bent forward once or twice, oh-so deliberately showing off for him and loving his gasps, inaudible to all but me. And then the music changed down a gear to something really slow.

Ben opened his arms and I stepped close. In the middle of a dance floor so many miles from home, I let my son tilt my head back and his lips met mine, just as his body closed tightly against mine. He was hard and pressed hungrily against me, his hands somehow pulling me tight before slipping lower and making me squeal softly into his mouth as he cupped my butt cheeks, there in front of everyone.

I squirmed against him, grinding my hips against his even as our lips mashed together. Ben's shirt had opened at the front and his chest was bare against the cleft of flesh that my dress presented to him. I slid from side to side, the dress parting against his chest until I felt my right nipple bare against his equally bare flesh. No one could see, but I certainly felt it oh-so beautifully, and the kiss deepened yet further.

The music stopped for a moment before returning to a more vibrant, fast beat. Ben and I paused and I was overwhelmed.

"Step back a moment." I didn't let myself think and he obeyed, leaving me half exposed. I made a show of straightening my dress, covering my bared breast slowly, before kissing Ben lightly and heading, trembling, back to our stools and drinks, busily ignoring four or five eager looks along the way,

Ben caught up with me just before I could re-seat myself and kissed the nape of my neck, "I'm in heaven," he managed.

"Well," I managed, "I did say that we would have fun."

Ben grabbed both our glasses and dashed to the bar, evidently unable to say anything to me, but returning in double-quick time with a nervous, "There you go!"

"Did I really do that?" I laughed.

"Oh yeah. Fun for sure."

"You still think so?"

"Ma... Marie... I wasn't joking when we were in bed," he made no effort to lower his voice, "but I'm glad it's your turn with the washing. I wasn't joking about that, either, things are getting messy in my pants."

I laughed a lot, "Naughty... but I love it. And it's the first night..."

*****

We stayed at the club for another hour during which time I drew many a look as I bent to retrieve 'accidentally' dropped items and twirled a couple more times on the dance floor – until the pressure between Ben and I rose to a level where we couldn't keep our hands off each other without the danger of stripping off right there and then. When it reached that level we just had to dash back to the hotel and relieve the tensions, or 'fuck each other silly' to be more accurate. No one even banged on the wall in complaint when I gave vent to my joys with the sort of wails and moans that are normally only heard in the wild.

Exhausted, Ben and I fell asleep long before midnight, naked, sweaty and sated. For the time being, anyway.

*****

I woke before my son and was standing at the window, bathed in the morning sunshine, naked and in love all over again. I heard Ben stirring behind me after a few minutes, then felt the glory of his heat and hardness press up against my behind shortly afterwards, his hands encircling me, sliding over my belly and breasts. We were on the ground floor, the room overlooking a small patch of garden and another hotel at the rear of the building.

"Ben," I said, "If anyone is looking out of their window they might see us."

"I know."

"If anyone walks past they might see as well."

"I know."

"Ben, your hands are caressing my tits and making me very wet."

"I was hoping so." My son bent his knees and allowed his hard cock to slip between my thighs.

"Son, if you try to push that thing – that gorgeous thing – inside me, I am not sure I could bear to stop you. But we might be seen. Fucking."

"I know that too."

"It's a hell of a risk."

"I love you, ma."

A flare of genuine fear flashed through me as I realised I somehow didn't have a choice any more – already – because I wanted that feeling more than I could possibly describe. I think I tried to move away from that oh-so exposed position, but the very first inch brought my hot, wet centre into direct contact with my son's hardness.

"You're going to fuck me right here, aren't you Ben?"

He pushed at me and my lips began to part for his rigid member, "You have no idea how much I want to, mum."

"Ben," I managed, not moving away any more, "I'm naked, nude, right here in front of the window."

"I don't care if the world sees how beautiful you are." He pushed his hips forwards and entered me fully. "Feels like you don't mind too much."

"Just because," I panted, "I let your hard, gorgeous, fucking perfect cock press right inside my hot, wet cunt, doesn't necessarily mean I want my son to fuck me hard here in front of the world."

"Sure?" Ben grunted, ramming himself home.

"Ungh. Oh fuck. Maybe I'm not one hundred percent against the idea." I pushed back, hard, relishing the sensation of every little inch of my boy's cock spreading me wide, filling me, "But if you're going to make me act the slut, then you'd better make me cum so fucking hard, got it?" I could scarcely believe what I was doing. I felt so exposed and yet so very, very aroused.

My son started pressing his hips hard against me, his flat belly slapping against my raised butt, "I want to make you cum hard, ma, and I don't care about anyone else, never will."

For all that I was hyper to the max, acting wildly outside my norms, there was something in his words that jarred. Not that they stopped me grinding back against him, stretching so that my nakedness was displayed to the fullest extent. If there was anyone watching from behind a curtain in the building across the way, then they were going to see a cute, slender woman getting royally fucked – and loving every second of her exposure and her pleasure. "Faster," I hissed.

Ben responded immediately, slamming himself deep into me, grunting like a tennis master with every thrust, "Oh, ma, I love it, love your..."

"Love your cock in my wet cunt?"

"Yes! Oh mum, I adore your... your cunt!"

"Ungh, oh yes, say it again!"

"Your cunt, ma, your cunt. I love my cock in your wet cunt!"

Even as I grunted in joy, a young couple appeared, walking past arm-in-arm, no more than ten yards in front of us. They didn't so much as glance in our direction but I spread my arms, exposed as much of myself as I could even as I grunted louder, "And I love it too. Need it. Oh fuck yes. Need this so much!"

"Oh fuck, ma, I'm gonna cum!"

"Fill me then, fill me! Tell me!"

"Any second, ma, any second I'm gonna explode in you, in your cunt, ma. I'm gonna... oh fuck here it comes!"

It overwhelmed me. The couple had passed by then, but I didn't care. I lost all control as my son's seed splurged inside me. I let myself go to the cavalcade of extreme sensations and probably screamed my release – a release that was so sudden, so needed. Words failed me and I was grateful, even as we sank to the floor.

*****

You know it wasn't the first time for us, but in some ways it had felt like it for me. We were unusually quiet over breakfast, and I was unusually thoughtful, troubled. To my immense relief – which in itself surprised me a little – Ben seemed to pick up on my sudden silence and although he made one or two attempts to get me talking, he soon came to understand that I wanted some time alone. With a fairly cursory comment or two he suggested that he had some shopping he wanted to do – some 'boys' stuff' that he knew was available in one of the little specialist shops in the town – and arranged to meet me at lunchtime in a bar close to the hotel.

When he'd gone I took myself off to a local park and, sadly enough, found a deserted bench in an equally deserted stretch of the more wooded area the park offered. I sat down and stared at nothing, letting a myriad of thoughts assail me. I'm not normally one to go over things in minute detail but that morning I felt a deep need to 'search my soul', 'navel gaze', or some equally moronic concept.

What on earth was I doing?

That pretty much summed up my thoughts and, to be brutally honest, my fears. Sure, I'd read the website entries, visited chat rooms 'specialising' in my new-found kink, I'd even come to terms with the fact of what, exactly, I was getting involved in – but none of those avenues really gave me any answer as to what on earth I was doing. I'd let my own son... 'let' was the wrong word, but it had to do for now – I'd let my Ben see me, touch me, fuck me. It was – no matter how I tried to hide from the fact – incest. He was my son, I was his mother. Maybe a lot of mothers got a little naughty pleasure from an apparently 'accidental' exposure or an improperly close hug, but this? I'd let Ben have access to me, to my very centre, to everything . I had welcomed my son's hard cock into my wet pussy. Just the thought of it parting my hot, wet labia hardened my nipples under my light top, aroused me to the point where my juices started to ooze from me, made me feel reckless enough to allow our coupling when we might even be seen, let me...

"Fuck!"

I cast a quick look around, thankful that no one had heard my sudden outburst. And equally thankful that no one could see the blush that coloured my cheeks.

So what if it was all so wrong? Sure, the taboo element added something – but was it really that much more? I adored the way Ben and I fucked, had all sorts of fun! So what if some people thought it was disgusting? I hadn't felt this wild and hot for as long as I could remember and I loved every second of it!

I stood quickly, undid the top two buttons of my blouse until it hung loose between my breasts, pulled the bottom of the top almost out of my skirt so that it billowed in the gentle breeze, and then strode out of the trees and into the centre of the seaside town, ready to meet my son, my lover.

*****

"Hey, you," I slid onto the barstool next to Ben.

"Ma... Marie!"

I smiled at my son's apparent surprise, "You didn't expect me to turn up?"

He waved the barman over and ordered me a large vodka and cranberry, stalling his reply for a few seconds so he could gather himself. "I did kind of wonder whether you... had changed your mind or something."

"Not a bit of it," I assured him, "I just needed to make sure I was sure, that's all."

"And I guess this means you are."

I pointedly looked down at my gaping blouse, "What do you think the answer is?"

Ben followed the direction of my gaze and let out a strangled laugh, "I guess that's a yes. And 'wow'."

"Thanks, I think. You approve?"

"Does my drooling mouth give it away?"

I leaned forward and whispered, "It does, and I rather like the slobbery look. That St Bernard dog we used to have was always my favourite."

Ben glanced around and then turned back to me with a slight flush and a very broad grin, "It's hard not to slobber when you look so hot. Especially with a very appreciative audience in the background. It makes me so... proud to be seen with you, if you don't mind me saying."

"I'm hardly likely to object, but thanks anyway. It's great to feel so daring and so happy to be with a great looking young guy on my arm. You really like the daring look? Not too slutty for you?"

"Ma... rie, I got to admit that I've always had a kinda love of that sort of thing, but with you it's like a hundred times hotter . And that's nothing to do with us being... you know?"

"I know," I assured him, "And believe me, it's great to hear."

And it truly was. When I'd been Ben's age and into my early twenties I has used to love being daring with my dress, and in the short time my son and I had released the hidden passions within ourselves, those feelings of something close to a need to be daring once more had come flooding back. To hear Ben admit that he had a 'thing' for that sort of behaviour sent a glorious chill down my spine and set a gorgeous little fire burning deep in my belly. "Just as long as it's all for just you and me, I might even surprise you with how daring I could be."

Ben's eyes widened as his smile broadened, "Well you know I love surprises..."

"You really like this sort of surprise?" I had to be sure.

"Yeah, honest, Ma... rie. It's one of those things that I kinda think about when... you know?"

I loved the way my son was opening up, "When you play alone, you mean?"

To his credit, Ben's blush was not too bright, "Well... yeah. But it's only ever been a fantasy thing, really. Until you and me, that is."

"You and me, I like it. You have any particular fantasies you might like to play out?" I paused, "And incidentally, were any of them ever about me?"

Ben's blush deepened by way of an answer, "A couple, I guess," he mumbled.

"I don't mind," I assured him – and I really didn't to judge by the way my pulse-rate quickened even further – "So how about sharing a couple. Maybe I can help turn fantasy into reality while we're away here or even when we get back home."

He gulped a large mouthful of his drink, evidently understanding that I was presenting him with an opportunity to share even more with me than he already had, "Well... you sure you won't be mad?"

"I might draw the line at fellating donkeys."

Ben nearly sprayed his drink over me but my shrugged comment seemed to be enough to get him capable of the sharing that I believe we both wanted. "Well," he said slowly, "I do sorta like it when guys look at you approvingly – have done for a couple of years or more, I guess – and I kinda fantasise about you maybe seemingly 'accidentally' showing more than maybe it's like normal to show."

"Blouse buttons popping open without me seeming to notice and that kind of thing?"

"Yeah! Exactly!" He glanced down at my loose blouse, "Maybe just like you are now, you know? I mean, if you leant forward in that top then... well, wow."

I knew I occasionally wore fairly loose tops and short skirts at home but I had never realised just how I must have been entertaining my boy's fantasies. My pulse-rate seemed to be rising with every word he said. Then I had another thought. "Just who might get to see the results in your fantasies?"

Ben averted his eyes from mine, "Um... well..."

"Tell me. I won't be mad about a fantasy."

"Well, it's kinda only happened when we've been at home and someone like Tim was around, I guess."

"Your friend?"

Ben covered his affirmation with another deep gulp from his glass, "Well, yeah."

My mind whirled a little, but it made sense. When else could he have been in a position to get the seeds of a fantasy like that? "You do understand," I said slowly, "that even Tim can't know what we're getting up to, do you?"

"Of course! I didn't mean–"

I put my finger on his lips to shush him, "If... and that's a big 'if', you understand... if I was to promise you a little slip at home next time Tim comes to visit, will you help me fulfil one of my little fantasies while we're here?" I could scarcely believe I was saying this, offering this. But there again, Ben and I's new relationship was bringing the inner slut racing to the surface.

For his part, Ben was speechless. He nodded frantically.

"Deal?"

More nods.

"Ben, you haven't even asked what I might want to trade."

"I know," he managed, "but I'd do anything at all for that."

"It really has been a serious fantasy of yours, hasn't it?"

He seemed to be defying his blush, looking me in the eyes again now, "Yeah – seriously."

"Okay," I said, plunging in before I could chicken out. "I'll be in a bar tonight and I want you to come in, pretend you've never met me. Chat me up at the bar counter, try some moves. When I let you then you start to get real friendly – kisses and hands – and then we'll just have to leave. But outside, maybe down a side alley to the place, you have to," I dropped my voice to the gentlest of whispers, "fuck me."

"Yes!"

"We might well be followed out of the bar, you know? By anyone who thinks they know what we'll be doing?"

"Yes, anything!"

My nipples were rigid and I was suddenly and delightfully close to climax, "You do that for me," I whispered, "and I promise that as long as you keep what's really happening between us a total secret, your friend will get to see my tits exposed, okay?"

Ben was close to hyperventilating, "I promise too," he whispered urgently, "Now can we get back to the hotel before I cum in my jeans?"

*****

The sun had set before we managed to get ourselves ready for some fun and out of the hotel room. More to the point, out of the hotel room's bed. I had pointed out to my Ben that what we were doing was very wrong and he thoroughly agreed – it had become something of a joke for us by then – and he had even paused mid-way through a particularly energetic session in the bath to mention just how wrong it was, pointing down to where his rigid cock was spreading my pussy lips. I'd always deeply loved my boy, but at that moment I think I started to fall deeply in love with him.

I also loved the fact that he was willing to play out one of my favourite fantasies – the bar pick-up – although I was a little worried by the thought of showing off in front of Tim. But that would come later, and as we picked out a likely looking bar I pushed thoughts of future naughtiness to the very darkest recesses of my newly-reckless brain.

We stood fifty yards down the road from the chosen location, Wagon Train, and Ben looked into my eyes.

"You totally sure about it, ma?"

"I've dreamt about it often enough. More to the point are you sure you know the game-plan?"

He looked down at the strappy, loose, summery dress I was wearing and genuinely licked his lips – moistening more than one type of lip in the process, "I come in, spot you at the bar, sidle up, offer you a drink, we chat, we get heated fast, then we make sure lots of guys are watching and we dash out to the alleyway just beside the bar."

"Spot on so far. Then?"

"Then," Ben grinned, "I start to kiss you and... we get more and more heated. Then... what was it?"

"You'd better not tease this much when the time comes."

"Ma, I seriously doubt whether I could manage to tease for more than two seconds. You look so awesomely hot in the dress. And out of it. Then we get it on as much as we can."

Sure, the fantasy was one I'd been dreaming about for years and to have it so close to coming true was wild, but Ben's comments about my looks were hotter still. "I'll be more than ready, I promise." I assured him, "And talking of promises, you might want to call Tim tomorrow and invite him over the night we're getting home..."

My son's eyes rolled for a moment, "On a scale of one to a thousand you just have to be a million. Let's get started before I explode right here."

I laughed, "Flattery will get you everywhere. Give me five minutes head start, okay?"

Ben checked that we were alone for the moment then leaned forward and kissed me, surprising me with the gentleness of the gesture and not surprising me at all when he paired the action with a swift squeeze of me breasts. "See you in five, ma."

I headed off for Wagon Train before I forgot the fantasy act altogether.

*****

The bar was moderately busy, moderately clean, moderately full of young men and absolutely perfect for the fantasy me. I ordered a large vodka and cranberry juice from the young barman and received my drunk in record time when he realised just how much flesh was on show between the halter panels of my summer dress. I sat myself on a tall stool at one corner of the bar, all the better for ensuring the whole room could see me – and for ensuring that the summer dress rode up my thighs far enough so that the room's occupants would no doubt see that I favoured stockings.

It felt like a very long five minutes before I registered Ben's entrance out of the corner of my eye, and an even longer five minutes before he moved to a barstool right beside me.

"Excuse me," he said in his best, deepest accent, "Would you mind if I sat here for a while?"

I looked into this 'stranger's' eyes, my heart-rate already climbing, "It's a free country."

Apparently – and understandably – unperturbed by my seemingly cool response, he continued, "My name's Ben and I really couldn't help but come over and say that you are looking absolutely beautiful sat there."

"That's very kind of you to say... Ben," I paused and looked him over, "Particularly coming from a very pleasant young man such as yourself. My name is Marie and my preferred drink is a vodka and cranberry."

Ben turned and was about to signal to the barman but found him standing close enough to hear anyway, "Please?"

When the barman had scurried off, the 'young man' turned back to me, "Well, Marie, may I also say that you are dressed immaculately. Very sexily, if I may be so bold."

"You most certainly may. It's not my normal attire, but one likes to please oneself occasionally with something a little more... alluring."

"Consider me allured, Marie... er, thank you barman. Here's twenty and keep the change. Where was I? Oh yes, being allured. By your outfit and by the very sexiness you exude."

"My but you're a bold young man, Ben. Not that I am objecting thus far."

From the background I could hear a couple of muffled comments which were either deriding Ben's 'chances' with the 'tasty older broad' or more frequently praising my more obvious (if 'tiny tits' counts) charms.

Ben was busy ignoring the background remarks as well – or possibly thoroughly enjoying them, "Bold I might be, but I don't often seem to find myself in a bar where there's such a gorgeous looking lady present, and I'd feel like I wasted a massive opportunity if I didn't tell her as much."

"Very bold."

"Not too bold, I hope?"

"Far from it," I said, "it's very welcome coming from a handsome young man. Although I must admit that such compliments don't ordinarily make me feel quite so..."

"Surprised? Amused?"

"I was going to say totally fucking horny."

Ben's jaw dropped, although his eyes lit up with laughter. I knew that he wasn't quite so used to the woman rather than the mother yet, but I wasn't exactly joking. Here I was sitting in a bar where at least five guys were trying to unobtrusively overhear our every word, my stocking tops visible and the top of my dress exposing the inner sides of my breasts. And far, far, far more wild, was the fact that I knew I was about to kiss my son in front of all of them. Even though they had no way of knowing that – and I sincerely hoped the difference in our ages was not that obvious – Ben and I both knew. Both knew how very naughty this was on so many levels. And after the kiss? Well, the alley awaited. Not to mention my suddenly very moist pussy...

Ben's voice brought me back to the reality of the room and the reality of my fantasy being played out in such a very real way. "I must say, Marie, you do look rather aroused, now I come to look closely into your eyes."

"And my breaths are coming faster, you might also notice."

Ben looked down at my small but clearly moving breasts and smiled, licking his lips, "I do notice," he confirmed, "My words seem to have had a remarkable effect on your breathing, if what I can see of your beautiful breasts is anything to go by. Again, as long as you don't mind me saying that?"

"I would not under normal circumstances be so quick to allow a young man to make such observations, but quite frankly you're having the remarkable effect that you just mentioned. I'm finding myself absolutely adoring your comment about my breasts. You're making my lips suddenly rather dry."

Ben was breathing hard himself and had to clear his throat before he said, "I might be able to assist with them, Marie. If you wish?"

Here was the moment. I just hoped I didn't start to climax right there on the stool. "I feel a need to receive whatever help you an offer."

With trembling fingers, Ben rested his right hand on my left shoulder, and after a short pause he started to draw me forward to where he was leaning close. Our lips met in that noisy bar and were my ears not suddenly ringing with inner excitement I'm sure I would have heard sharp intakes of breath all around us. The kiss was nervously timid at first but the knowledge of what we were really doing soon had our lips mashing together and I felt my son's tongue push between my eager lips, meeting and wrestling gloriously with my own.

I slid from the stool into his arms, our lips still locked, aware that the dress's skirt was caught on the seat behind me somehow baring my legs so that my thin, lacy white panties were barely covered. I didn't care. Loved it, in fact.

We kissed for a few more seconds before we broke the clinch to draw breath and look at the passions we had drawn from each other. Ben glanced down and saw the exposure of my thighs and whimpered under his breath.

"Do you..." he paused to swallow hard, "Do you think that it might be a little fairer on others here if we were to retire to somewhere a little more private?"

"I think that might be a very good idea," I nodded, "And rather quickly."

Ben turned on his heel at once, his right hand seeking and finding mine right behind him. He almost ran through the bar and I was right behind him, as clearly desperate as he was to move to the final act of my fantasy. We passed at least half a dozen open mouthed stares from the young male customers and each one simply increased my levels of arousal to the point where I was starting to leak juices into my skimpy panties as I trotted after my son.

"I'm not sure," Ben said loudly over his shoulder – a part of the 'script', "that I will be able to get too far before another kiss!"

"Fine by me," I managed as we clattered through the doors and onto the street.

We really were rather desperate for another clinch – and much more – as we sought out the darkened alleyway, and that desperation cranked another ten notches when we heard the bar doors open and close noisily behind us.

We reached the alley and Ben said, loudly, "Not sure I can wait any more. In here okay for you?"

I matched his volume, neither of us daring to check behind us, "Suits me fine. Anywhere away from the crowd just now!"

We turned, stumbling, into the alleyway and went no more than ten yards before I hauled Ben to a halt, spinning him to face me and pulling him close. "Kiss me, Ben!"

"Not changed your mind then?" he managed before our lips locked.

"No way," I mumbled into his mouth, pulling his pelvis towards my dripping pussy, delighted to realise just how hard he already was, my shoulders coming to rest against a stack of boxes.

He broke the kiss long enough to grunt "Good!" and with an urgency that I adored, his hands swiftly pulled the top halves of my dress wide apart, baring my breasts as the straps slipped down my arms.

"Oh fuck yes! Still think my breasts are beautiful?"

There was more than enough light for him to give a genuine answer even if he couldn't remember from a few hours before. But he genuinely looked, stared, and this time groaned aloud. "Oh, ma... Marie, they are perfect!"

"Kiss them then, kiss my bare tits!"

As Ben's head was about to drop and his mouth was therefore about to make me squeal with pleasure, we heard footsteps at the end of the alleyway and two sharp whistles of indrawn breath.

"Kiss them Ben!" I demanded.

His head dropped and I really did squeal, even as a voice echoed along the alley "She's got her tits out for him!"

"Lucky little fuck," another voice replied.

"She must've heard us as well and she ain't stopping him!"

"I bet she does if we get any closer."

"I'm gonna try a few steps anyway."

I turned to look at the two guys stepping into the alley. This was way beyond anything I'd ever risked before but I was hotter than I'd ever been before. I leaned down to Ben's level and hissed "Don't you dare stop! Remember what I'm gonna do for your friend and if you take it all the way here I'll let him see everything okay?" I really was that hot and desperate for my son.

Ben released a nipple and hissed his reply, "I don't think I could stop anyway."

I'd made the offer unnecessarily – and right then with the two strangers just feet away I didn't care. When Ben's hands yanked the front of my dress even harder and the buttons popped open and off I moaned "Yes!" as the garment fell to the floor leaving me in just stockings and the skimpy white panties. I twisted enough to make sure the two guys could see everything I was left wearing and grabbed at the front of Ben's jeans, making it clear what I wanted.

My son's hands grabbed the sides of my panties and he yanked them down my legs before I could even check how close the strangers were but as the cool night air hit my exposed pussy I knew I didn't care. When the closest one squawked "I can see her cunt for fuck's sake!" I nodded and grinned lasciviously.

"And," I said to Ben, "I want your cock in it right now."

Ben's jeans hit the floor and I swear I could feel a wave of heat from his hard cock as it sprang free. He bent at the knees slightly and pulled me close. I levered myself higher with my arms on his shoulders, my legs wrapping around his hips, and in a delightful second the head of his springing dick pressed against my soaking wet lips. I let myself a little lower just as he bucked and he slid straight into me.

The fastest climax I have ever had in my life started right then and there as my deepest, darkest fantasy came to glorious life, and as my own son's cock started to ram my overheated pussy right there in front of two strangers.

I rode his rigid member with the abandonment of the most powerful orgasm, delighting in the feel of his hands under my butt cheeks and one squeezing one tit while another pulled at my other nipple... it took my mind a few seconds to work out my son didn't have that many hands and I looked down to see each of my tits being played with by the strangers .

"Oh fucking hell... yes." I'd never fantasised this much happening but now it was... oh, I was in heaven. I looked into Ben's eyes even as we pumped and ground away at each other. I was looking for his okay, wanting it so much. He was looking back, making sure, I realised, that I was okay with it. Then we nodded ever so slightly.

"Feel great don't they?" he gasped.

"Fucking right, pal," one of the strangers grunted.

"How's her cunt feel?" the other one added.

"Perfect," Ben managed, his slight frown at me matched by my slight shake of the head, "And it's all mine tonight."

"He's right," I told the guys.

The first one shrugged, "My girlfriend would fucking kill me if she smelt your cunt juices on me, anyway."

The second seemed to be in a similar frame of mind, "Shame but I don't blame you guy. That is one tasty piece of ass."

"She's that," Ben agreed, his voice rising, "And I'm just about to fill her cunt up with my cum!"

Another shockwave of climax coursed through me and I felt Ben's body twitching in my arms and his seed gushed into me.

It was all so fast and frantic – and perfect for me. I was as good as naked in front of two men I'd never seen before, and never – I hoped – would ever see again. They were touching me, squeezing and fondling my naked tits, even as my own son's cock was buried deep inside me. I leaned back in his arms, exposing as much of myself as I could, suddenly lost in a wild spiral of fantasy and a one in a lifetime chance to make it all real. "I feel," I panted, "like a total fucking slut. So get a good look guys. Get a good feel."

One of the hands slid down from my breast and on to my clit, making me wail in approval. Judging by the renewed hardening of Ben's cock inside me, my boy didn't disapprove at all, no matter that the strange hand must be touching him almost as intimately as it was me. The guy was no newcomer to pleasing a woman and his fingers massaged either side of my sensitive, hard button, pressing my labia even tighter against Ben's now-rigid member. I stared into my son's eyes, trying to make him know that my next move was temporary, but unable to control myself to wait for any sign of acknowledgement from him before, still with my legs wrapped around his hips, I eased myself backwards enough that his cock slipped free of me, exposing me completely.

The hand on my clit almost stopped as the two men gawked at the most intimate part of me until I managed to moan, "Touch it, touch my cunt, finger me!"

First my clit-massaging acquaintance slipped his hand lower, one finger slipping easily into the wet centre of me, and then the second guy reached between my legs from underneath me, at least two of his fingers plunging into my wet heat. I wailed my approval, the sound rising to a crescendo as Ben ducked his head and drew an aching nipple into his mouth, pulling at it and nipping softly. I bucked so hard that my legs started to slip from his hips and he grabbed at them, but rather than draw me back close he spread them even wider.

Staring into my eyes, almost apologetic, almost beyond control, he said, clearly, "Lick her, she loves it!"

I was shocked, scared for no more than a couple of seconds, before I felt hair against my inner thighs and lips and a tongue pressed hard against my wide open pussy. "Oh my god! Oh fuck you'll make me... ungh... if you... oh fuck... if you keep licking my cunt whoever you are... oh fuck ungh, UNGH! If you keep that fucking licking and sucking and FUCK YES! You keep it up I'm gonna cum so fucking UNGH! Hard!"

Suddenly there wasn't just a stranger's mouth at my pussy but I felt both of my tits being sucked, a mouth on each. I bucked. I wailed. Mid-climax the mouth went away from my pussy and as lost as I was in the heights of the most incredible, powerful, mind-blowing sensations of ecstasy a tiny, fractional, part of my mind was screaming at me. I was that tiniest bit scared of just how far I would let myself go – and I knew that anything was now possible.

Instead of the half-scared, half-panicked reaction I would have to what I was beginning to expect would happen next, I sensed movement away from me, felt my son lowering my legs to the ground, supporting my suddenly gravity-stricken weight.

My head was slow to react to the sudden change in circumstances and a deep, dark part of me – despite my body's almost complete satiation of experience – very nearly wailed at the departure of the mouths and contacts that were taking me to heights I had never reached before, heights that threatened my sanity. I think I even yelled, demanded that someone, anyone, fuck me now, right now!

But then the voices permeated the swirling ecstasy of my liberated, desperate mind. Or more to the point, one elderly female voice.

"Get away from her you dirty little bastards! And you lot stop gawking down the alley and sod off back to the pub!"

One of the strangers lurched to his feet and I heard his feet stumble off up the alleyway, away from the intrusive old woman, the other guy muttering a groaned 'not her!' before clattering away after his friend.

Ben hung on to me, all that was keeping me upright, calling something about us being 'okay' and that there were 'no problems, nothing wrong'. And that he loved me and it was 'just fine'.

I hugged him hard even as my eyes finally focused enough to see a stooped little figure waddling towards us along the alleyway even as a blur of movement disappeared behind her – presumably, I later worked out, an audience that had gathered to watch the proceedings and who were now doing as the old woman had instructed.

The old dear reached my son and I just as a blessed silence enveloped us, but soon shattered the peace with a cackle that would not have been out of place at the start of a Shakespeare play, "Been having fun, luvvie? Judging by your next-to-nudeness and from what I 'eard from down there I guess I don't need no answer to that, but I can't say you picked the best spot for a bit of nookie, darling."

"I was just... well..."

"Just getting tubbed like a good 'un," she said, not too unkindly, "Yeah, we all 'eard. But it may be late evening but that don't mean to say kids ain't gonna be about and it ain't proper if they sees you getting some rod in your snatch and a good view of your titties, no matter how cute they is."

My senses were starting to return and I had the horrible feeling that maybe things had got a little out of hand. Not to mention 'in snatch'. And what might have happened if she hadn't arrived... "I'm sorry, it's just..."

"You needed it so bad. Don't worry luvvie, I may be eighty-eight but that don't mean to say I don't remember what that feeling's like, and don't mean to say I never done nothing like that meself back in the day." The old woman paused to draw a wheezing breath, "But I reckoned you were getting in a bit too deep there and this young 'un," she pointed at Ben who was still supporting me, "well, he was enjoying it too much to 'elp you too much I reckon." She stared up at him again, "Cute young thing, ain't you? What's yer name?"

"Um... Ben. I... er... know... er... Marie."

"You don't 'alf look like 'er, Ben. Pull your jeans up, love. That's better. Nice dickie and all that, but I seen a 'undred or more and I'm too old to be getting all worked up with one these days. Now where was I? Oh yeah. Marie, is it? Well Marie, like I said, I reckon you was far enough gone there, but if I was wrong, sorry and I reckon you can find somewhere a bit more private now and let your son 'ere finish off what you need."

I spluttered, "That's just Ben, he's not–"

"Marie or whatever your real name is, don't fret. The boy's got a lovely dickie and who's to know other than an old bag like me, right? We all got needs and I reckon he does you proud judging by 'ow he obviously loves the titties off you. Just you two keep it quiet and don't go making no stupid mistakes. Enjoy it while you can before you both go your own ways, right?"

I was speechless. But oddly relieved and happy. And, suddenly felt rather naked.

I stopped an picked up my discarded dress, struggling into it as I addressed the old woman, "No one's going to know, don't worry, and yeah, I need his loving, and yeah he does me proud and we adore each other, okay?"

"I'm alright, luvvie, but now I get to see you better, I guess you're his big sister and not his mum but the same applies. Just you two 'ave yer fun."

"That's very sweet," I said, doing up the three buttons that were all that were left on the dress, "but..." I felt such a weird feeling of cold fear and red-hot delight, "yeah, I'm Ben's mum." Admitting it, even to this strange old woman, felt as liberating as it was awful. "Aren't you horrified?"

"Heck no. You ain't the first mum who's either fancied or got 'old of her son's dickie, and 'aving seen it I can't say I blame you."

Ben was standing there speechless, his jaw almost reaching his knees. Suddenly relaxed in the weirdest way, I patted his arm, "Say thanks, Ben."

"Wh... what? Oh... well, yeah thanks."

"No need to thank me, luvvie, you just make sure you give yer mum the ride of 'er life, okay?"

"I...er, yeah that is, I will."

The old woman leaned in close between us, "Between you two, back in the sixties I used to spread me legs for both my boys and they always 'ave been the best fucks I ever 'ad in my life."

I don't know which of our jaws hit the floor first.

"Yeah," the old woman went on conspiratorially, "it started one day when me eldest caught me asleep out in the garden on a sunbed, topless, and I woke up to find 'im wanking like a demented monkey. Dunno what come over me – other than him in the end – but I got it into my 'ead that a decent mum would 'elp him out so I did. Then the youngest comes out the door and I felt I should even things up so next thing you know I 'ad his dickie in my hand, and then the eldest was all 'ard again. Next thing I know is I'm 'elping them both and one says 'e wants to see my snatch and I'm wondering whether I dare and the youngest pulls my knicks off before I could choose and well... I was wet and they was rock 'ard, and one thing leads to the obvious and we're all shagging away. Course, I felt a bit guilty cos they was well younger than Ben 'ere, but it never got out and no one was ever pissed off about it all."

Ben and I looked at each other over the woman's head, mouths open, but joy mixed with the shock in our eyes.

"Anyway," the old dear continued, "I loved 'aving their dickies and we all 'ad a great time for years. And I don't mind telling you that seeing your dickie, Ben, and your tits and snatch, Marie – and remembering my own boys fucking me, werl, it's got me a tiny bit wet. First time in five years. So," she clapped her gnarled hands together, "I'm gonna get back to my flat and frig away. See if I can't rouse the beast and 'ave myself a orgasm. You two run along and get yourselves fucked senseless, you 'ear me?"

"Um, yes!" I managed, "And thank you. Really!"

"Yes," Ben added, "You've made me feel really good about things."

The old girl laughed, "If I'd been thirty years younger I'd have come along to help!"

With another cackle, she turned and trotted back along the alleyway leaving us in vaguely stunned silence. Eventually I turned to Ben. "Angel? I think we should get back to the hotel, pack out bags and get the late train home. I'm not sure I could face anyone here again in case they were around tonight."

"I know what you mean, ma. You sure it was all okay though?"

I nodded and meant it, "It was all my dreams fulfilled and that old thing... well, she made it all feel perfect in a funny way."

Ben turned and stared down the alleyway in the direction the old woman had gone, "Yeah," he said at length. "Come on then, sis."

I smacked his arm, very gently, "I'll settle for being your lover."

"Good," he said, "Because I love you more than ever. Come on, let's go get out of here."

"Sounds good to me."

"Oh," he added, "And I haven't forgotten that you'll be baring everything to Tim someday soon."

My heart lurched for a second and I recalled my hurried – and unnecessary as it turned out – offer. I mentally shrugged. Given what had happened in the alleyway – and what had almost happened – it seemed quite tame. And anyway, that was in the dim, distant future.

So I guess I'd better tell you all about the dim, distant future next, hadn't I? I promised to tell you all about what I referred to as the 'dim, distant future', didn't I? Well that future is now part of my past and I'm thinking that it was a good promise to make. I need to tell you what happened after Ben and I got home, and maybe to try a bit more to explain where that right versus wrong balance was heading.

I didn't regret what had happened in that dark alleyway, even though it had all gone to a far more extreme place than I had been expecting. I didn't regret the actions Ben and I had taken - either in the alley or before and afterwards in bed. Or the kitchen, the living room, the bathroom, the hallway... well, you get the drift.

But there was one tiny thing that was bugging me on the hurried trip back from the hotel - a 'wrong' that I was already beginning to regret promising my son. Before that wild night in the alleyway I had somehow agreed to play out a fantasy for Ben in return for his play-acting on my behalf. I'd agreed that his good friend Tim would get to see me topless. That wasn't too much of a price to pay for my own fantasy fulfilment even if it was so out of character for me (no, really), and I was almost certain that I could make everything seem like an accident. But then... somehow I'd used the repayment offer to take things further with Ben and my dream - and extended the offer. I'd agreed to let his friend see everything.

After all that had happened with my son (especially in the alleyway) I guess it sounds odd that something like exposure to his friend would begin to trouble me so much, but I swear on all I hold dear that I have always been naturally shy. The fantasy play-out was a long way from home and very much in the dark. No one who had witnessed anything would have ever been able to pick me out of a line-up but Tim knew me, had known me for years. I started to fret seriously even as Ben and I made our way home from the hotel. Once we were safely back at our house, I just had to raise the worry.

"Ben, angel, are you... well, are you sure you want me to... well, you know, kind of bare things for Tim?"

My son, who had been reading something on his phone, looked up at me with a smile that I can only describe as something close to a leer. "Ma, I'm totally sure. You're not trying to back out are you? I mean you're the one who's always told me a deal is a deal."

"Well, yes..." Trust my Ben to use my own words against me, "But what if he tells someone or something?"

"Don't worry about that sort of thing. For a start we can make it look like a pure accident and in any case I'll tell him never to breathe a word."

"You trust him that much, Ben?"

"Totally, ma. So stop fretting and start planning, okay?"

I looked levelly at my son, "This is a really big deal for me, you understand?"

"So was what I did for you, ma. I just want what's fair and it's not like anything much is going to happen, is it?" He paused and gave me his trademark grin, "Other than the fact that I will be even more eager to make love to you."

I snorted a laugh despite my worries, "Like you need any encouragement to get inside your very own mother."

"Like you ever refuse me."

"You think you'll really get an extra buzz from Tim seeing me like that?"

"Ma," Ben sighed, standing and crossing to me, "Just the thought of you baring these," he squeezed my breasts through my top, "and this beautifully styled pussy," his hand slid easily up my skirt to its target, "make my cock so hard."

"I don't believe you," I managed. "Show me."

Let me tell you - Ben might have next stripped and made love to me, but for me it was a fuck, pure and simple. Or rather, pure and complex.

It still felt so wild and so wrong and yet so right. Even when my son was sated, asleep on my bare shoulder, even with a pussy full of his juices, I couldn't help but think that the sex was just a distraction for me. Oh, I could let my very own son have access to every part of me in the most intimate of ways, but baring my flesh to his friend? That was beginning to scare me rigid.

Two days and somewhere around ten fucks/love-making sessions later, Ben had to return to his temporary job and I was left to catch up on some much-needed rest in a quiet, empty house. Which also meant that I was alone to fret and worry.

I knew I had made the promise and I was no welcher, but exposure to Tim? I'd known him as a toddler all the way through his tormented teens until he shared eighteenth birthday celebrations with my own son - and held his long hair out of his face when he threw up as a result of their sneaked beers. Letting him see me topless, let alone fully naked, just seemed so terribly wrong to me.

The scales in the 'rights and wrongs' debate were tilting alarmingly for what was, I knew, such a relatively (no pun intended) little thing, and yet... What if this was a sign of where things might escalate to? What if by letting my son have his way with me - okay, letting us give in to our mutual passions - was just a starting point on a road to real depravity?

Strangers seeing me - touching me, even - was one thing, one fantasy I had now lived out, but Tim was known so well to me. What if Ben began to want more of me? Sure, there were only just about five months before he had to move away but things were already happening so fast... Perhaps I should simply call a halt to everything right now?

But I knew even as the thought clattered through my messy mind, that I simply couldn't stop things just yet. The sudden wetness I felt when I thought of how Ben felt inside me told me more than I even needed to know. The balance still tilted to 'right', no matter what anyone might think.

All I had to do was fulfil Ben's pretty harmless fantasy. I just needed a good plan.

"I'm going to do it," I told my son as soon as he returned home that night.

"Er, good? What are you talking about exactly? Letting me through the front door maybe?"

"Sorry," I stood back to let him inside, "I mean I have a plan for that Tim thing."

Ben paused as he shrugged his jacket off, "Oh, right. I knew you'd think of something pretty quickly. After all, I know you're as good as your promise."

I told him all about my scheme and I was suddenly very sure that my boy liked the idea. I could tell because he shrugged off a lot more than his jacket. And a lot more than my dress.

That was the first time he'd ever fucked me while I was bent over the back of the sofa, and I didn't even object when he took a photo of my butt for his phone's screen-saver. No one would ever recognise that view of me, and given the look of pure, satisfied ecstasy I had on my face by then, they probably wouldn't have even recognised my face. The 'rights' were back in the ascendency.

Tim wasn't due to visit until the following weekend, and I found that just a tiny flash of bare flesh was increasingly all it took to get my son as hard as a rock - no matter where we were or even what we had been doing. Ben's highly aroused reactions were almost making me look forward to the actual act - almost.

My nerves returned in force on the Saturday morning despite needing to 'calm' my Ben three times before we had even managed to finish breakfast. It was half an hour before Tim's scheduled arrival when those feelings bubbled over.

"Ben? I really don't think is such a great idea..."

"You'll be fine, ma. And besides, you owe me, remember?"

My son's certainty - and sense of very fair justice - were almost complacent and that didn't help me much, "That's easy for you to say. Wouldn't you prefer something else? Couldn't I... oh, I don't know... maybe just give Tim a quick flash of me in my undies and then I could maybe go away with you somewhere remote and really flash someone we don't know?"

"You sound like a real chicken, ma. And you did promise-"

"I know!" The minutes were ticking by and my nerves were jangling. I realised I was close to panic - and panic is not a great background for clear judgement, "Ben, listen - I know this was your fantasy to match mine, but angel, isn't there something else? Anything else? I really want you to be happy, get a buzz from something I do. And I will - do something, anything you want - just let me tone it down with Tim. Please?" I was babbling. And maybe not thinking at all clearly.

I could see the disappointment on my son's face, but he was looking straight into my panicked eyes.

"Ben? Please?"

The silence echoed around the room before his shoulders finally sagged and he gave a tiny nod, "I really don't want to upset you, ma... maybe we can do a deal then."

My heart soared with renewed hope, "Seriously?"

Ben nodded, "Just as long as you keep this new promise."

"Oh, I will, I swear. Undies this morning and then we'll go away again where no one knows us, yes?" My mind was totally oblivious to what I was saying now, such was the relief I was feeling right at that moment, "Then anything goes, okay?"

"One condition about today though, ma," Ben was showing all the signs of a very disappointed young man, and if there was a slightly devious look behind his eyes I didn't notice it.

"Tell me and as long as it's no more than I've already offered, then fine!"

"Will you make the bra and knickers really sexy ones?"

I shrugged, suddenly - stupidly - devil-may-care, "As long as they stay on and as long as it's just for a few seconds that he sees them, that's fine." From stupid to totally dumb, "I'll even let you choose them. Deal?"

Ben paused long enough to make sure I meant what I was saying (I think) then slowly nodded. "Deal."

Believe it or not I was even telling my Ben that I wouldn't object to anything he chose for me to wear that Saturday, or to anything he chose for me to do when we went away, even as we were making our way up to my bedroom with just ten minutes to go before Tim was due to arrive. Believe it or not as well, I was feeling relieved and more than happy with the new deal.

Other than telling Ben that the house phone would ring not long after Tim arrived, and that it was supposedly a call for me - who would be in the bathroom - I didn't let on what my original (and now much less panic-inducing) plan was. I just told him that he was to answer it and say something like 'I'll get her straight away', then call out to me.

I could, I knew, carry this plan out more than happily, and even when Ben picked out a matching set of skimpy, lacy underwear, I wasn't too perturbed. That Tim would be able to see my nipples through the gauzy, white material was no more than a mild concern for me then - the view wouldn't be on show for more than a few seconds and, I told myself, at least Ben would get something of a thrill from my muted exposure.

Even so, when the doorbell rang a few minutes later, my heart-rate shot into three-figure territory. Or possibly the four-figure range. To mask my sudden nerves I stopped Ben at my bedroom door and gave him a quick kiss, even that gentle naughtiness making me feel so bad-good.

Grinning and already clearly aroused, Ben trotted off down the stairs and I was left to grab the flimsy undies, a specific long bath-towel and, most importantly, my iPhone. I took three long, deep breaths then crossed the hall to the bathroom, closing its door behind me and then spinning the shower taps.

With shaking fingers I stripped off as quickly as I could and dived under the warm stream of the shower. As nervous as I was, I still took the time to shower properly giving Ben time to get Tim chatting in the living room and my blood pressure time to calm down a little.

After a few minutes it became clear even to me that I was prevaricating. I tried to focus on the new, improved deal, and reasoned with myself that the sooner I got this part of the deal out of the way, the sooner I could stop fretting and start enjoying my naughty new habit. I got out of the shower and quickly towelled my hair and dried myself as best I could. I prevaricated just a little longer and chose to pull a brush through my damp tresses before finally confronting the suddenly even skimpier-looking underwear Ben had chosen.

I had to grudgingly admit that he had chosen very well. The bra and panties were new and bought specifically to please my son's eyes - although I had, of course, no idea that they would be seen in this manner when I'd purchased them just the previous week. They fitted perfectly, if even more skimpily than I remembered them from the changing room, and when I looked in the bathroom's full-length mirror I was a little shocked by how clearly my nipples and, I have to say it, my neatly shaved pussy area could be seen.

My pulse quickened once more and I needed a few more deep breaths before I could even consider going through with my suddenly Baldrick-esque seeming cunning plan.

But I had to, I knew. And focusing on just how much my Ben would enjoy the show was a newfound help. I fixed a memory of his eager eyes in my head and carefully - and loosely - wrapped a particular towel I had chosen around my barely-covered flesh.

My fingers were trembling badly enough that I was grateful I had the home number on speed dial and I clicked the relevant button before I could do so much as think about changing my mind. With a hand that felt numb I held the phone to my ear and cursed Ben for taking an age to answer, even though I knew he was just trying to make things look natural for his friend.

"Ready?" I squeaked as soon as he said 'hello'.

"Absolutely, I'll call her," he managed in a far more controlled way than I could possibly have managed.

Then I heard his voice call up the stairs, "Ma, that important call you were expecting? The guy's on the phone now!"

I didn't let myself think - didn't dare. I switched off the iPhone and walked out of the bathroom and down the stairs at a trot, heading into the living room before my nerves got the better of me. Somehow I even managed to offer Tim, sitting in one of our armchairs, a brief wave by way of greeting before I took the receiver from Ben and said a strained 'hello' to the dial tone.

I've no idea how well I acted out the supposed telephone conversation or whether it was even remotely believable, but I managed to have a two minute 'conversation' before I knew the time had come and I said goodbye to the gentle buzzing in my ear.

In what seems like slow motion, I bent over to replace the handset in its cradle before taking a deep breath and starting to stand upright, at the same moment turning to face the boys, Tim in an armchair and Ben standing to my left, trying hard to seem casual. As I'd bent forward to replace the phone my left foot had found the corner of the towel and I leant my weight on it as I straightened.

Even if I had changed my mind just at that moment, I was too late. The towel fell away from me far faster than I had feared. It was no more than two seconds before I stood there, naked but for the tiny bra and panties.

I froze, no acting required. I watched as Tim's jaw quite literally opened wide. I could see Ben gawping in delight.

And still I was standing there, frozen in the moment. My nipples hardened even more than they already were as I saw Tim's eyes devouring them. I felt my groin moisten, a heat pouring up through my belly. For a moment I had an image of myself standing there naked, just as Ben and I had originally planned.

Tim was loving it. He was loving the sight of my hard, dark nipples straining at the stupidly thin bra that barely contained them. He was seeing the sexual me. He might even feel the heat pouring off me as my excitement rose and rose. He might even realise I was getting so turned on by his eager gaze...

I squealed and brought my hands up to cover my nearly-exposed breasts, trying to ignore the hardness of my nipples as they pressed into my palms. Then I realised that my panties were no more opaque that my bra and even as I stared, shocked in a weird way, at Tim's eager eyes, I dropped both hands to my almost-exposed pussy.

Then I realised my breasts were now on show once more.

I shuffled my hands until the worst - or best - of my near-nakedness was covered, finally realising that turning my back was all that was needed. So I spun around. And then realised my butt was now pretty much completely on view.

I pirouetted, hands moving quickly to cover whatever was now on show. And realised I was prolonging the moment, getting hotter and - I admit it - wetter by the second.

And then Tim rose unsteadily and bent before me, his eyes just a few inches from the source of my heat and moisture. My heart was almost pushing one breast free from its flimsy covering, calming not one iota when I finally realised that he was holding my towel, offering me a chance to cover my body and my blushes.

I snatched at it, already stammering apologies and excuses, even as the naughty mother part of me made sure that I fumbled the towel into position very slowly.

One tiny glance at the front of both my son's and Tim's jeans let me know that I had achieved all that I was supposed to achieve under the terms of the new deal. It also flashed a warning across my frazzled brain. I was at a crossroads, and to this day I'm not sure whether I should be relieved that I chose that moment to dash from the room and up to my own bed.

I know I should have been brave and gone downstairs that night and offered some sort of apology or (fictional) explanation, but I just wasn't that bold, that assured of myself back then. But there again, I wasn't so dumb that I didn't realise just what I'd done, and just what effect it had brought to my boy and his friend.

The friend who had now seen me in such skimpy little 'clothes'. Tim, who had a very good view of my actual nipples through the gauze of that silly little bra. Ben's pal who had seen the shadow of my pussy and then the bare cheeks of my butt. That friend who had said, quite clearly as I dashed up the stairs 'wow, I know she's your mum Ben, but she is fucking hot!'

And Ben's rather shaky reply. 'Don't worry, man. I can hardly deny you. What a bod!'

I lay on my bed, just a few feet above them, listening to my son's pal, cautiously at first but then more freely, discuss how 'fit' I was, how lucky Ben was to have such a 'fucking gorgeous' mother, how he would be 'hard as a rock' around me all the time if I were his mother.

I was already rubbing at my swollen, wet pussy - the one Tim had really seen through my panties - when I heard my Ben, my son, admit to his friend that he found me 'so sexy', and I was remembering just how sexy Ben found me when he thrust his gorgeously smooth cock deep into me, how hard he would be later now that I had done what he wanted, when I started to climax.

My door was still half-open but I couldn't keep too quiet as my hips bucked. I was beyond caring and maybe, just maybe, wondering, hoping that my muffled moans might even attract the boys' attention. I even wished for a few seconds that I had followed the original plan and let Tim see my bare flesh, my tits exposed, my pussy bare and glistening with my juices as my excitement grew...

I climaxed so very hard, but even through the creeping embarrassment that followed, I was still willing Tim to leave quickly so Ben would come and find me, come and fill me.

I was still in the skimpy bra and panties an hour later when the front door finally signalled Tim's departure and I was standing in my doorway when Ben took the stairs three at a time a few seconds later.

"Well? Did I do it like you wanted, angel?"

Ben's hands fumbled at the waistband of my tiny panties, "Oh fuck, ma! Oh fuck yes!"

With tremulous hands Ben exposed first my womanhood and then my breasts and I found myself moving backwards rapidly. As my shoulder blades thumped into the bed I managed a laugh, "I take it you both enjoyed the show?"

"Ma, that was so hot I can't tell you."