A Mother & Son Story Ch. 01

"You have to understand, Honey. That was a different time... a different age," Missy Smith sighed.

"Yea, but Mom. There it is," her son, Jason, retorted.

"Well, I certainly never thought it'd end up on the internet. Hell, it was 1986... we didn't even know there'd be an internet someday."

"So what were you thinking?"

"I just thought it'd be somethin' fun to do with my boyfriend. Frank's father had just gotten the camcorder and we were... well, we were young... and dumb."

"So what'd you think he'd do with it?"

"To be honest, I'd forgotten about it. Like I said, it was 22 years ago... there wasn't anything like the internet back then."

"Well he obviously didn't forget about it. Not if he took the time to get it digitized so he could post it on-line."

The pair were quiet for a minute and Missy stared awkwardly at the paused image on the laptop's screen. There could be no doubt it was her, at eighteen, her face contorted in ecstasy while being fucked by her boyfriend at the time.

"Come to think of it... How did you even find it?" she asked, the thought suddenly occurring to her. "What are you doin' lookin' at porn?"

"Duh, Mom. I'm eighteen and in the middle of nowhere, what do you think I was doing?"

"I don't even want to think about it," she said, raising a hand to ward off the image suddenly flashing in her mind.

"It's not my fault you and Dad decided to bring me here, miles away from my girlfriend... from any girl my age."

"Yea well, shut it down. I don't want to look at it anymore." She declared, then turned and walked out of the bedroom. Back in the living she dropped down in front of the TV and tried to focus on the movie, but her mind kept scrolling back over what had just happened.

She'd been enjoying her evening wine when she'd suddenly heard Jason calling for her and she'd gone to his room. Well, technically his father's old room. They were staying at her in-laws', working through probate. Her widower father-in-law had passed away six months earlier and named her and Tom as executors in his will. They had an estate auction scheduled for the following weekend but Tom had had to go back home for work, leaving her to finish things up. They'd made Jason stay with her, mainly just so she wouldn't be in the house alone.

When he'd called for her, she'd set her wine glass down and hurried into the bedroom thinking something was wrong. While she'd thought of a hundred different possibilities on her way, none of them had anything to do with the reality. When she'd entered she'd found Jason standing beside his bed facing the door, his computer setting on the bed with its back to her, his shocked expression making her freeze and ask him what was wrong. For several moments he just stood there, his eyes darting between her and the computer screen.

Then he'd turned the computer around.

Missy's heart nearly pounded its way out of her chest as she looked at the image, immediately realizing what it was.

After they'd looked at one another in silence for a moment he'd asked her how it could be and she'd answered the best way she could think of.

Now she was back in front of the TV, her mind reeling as she refilled her wine glass. She didn't know which worried her the most; her son finding that video, or the chances of her husband learning about it. While Jason finding it was done and there was nothing she could do about it, Tom finding out about it could have serious ramifications on her marriage.

The video was a fairly tame indiscretion at that time in her life and shortly after making it she had a scare that made her rethink the course her life was on. To help her make the changes she needed she moved in with her grandparents halfway across the country. They were regular church goers and she tagged along. That was where she met Tom. At the time he'd been serious about religion and she was trying to be. They'd been married within a year. Why she'd initially lied and told him she was a virgin she still didn't know, but she had, and since he was a virgin he'd never suspected anything different. Not at far as she knew at least. And even though their church going had fallen to the wayside, the lie still stood. So if he learned about the video, he'd know she'd been lying to him for years and, while she had no way of truly knowing how he'd react, she didn't care to find out.

I'll just have to talk to Jason in the morning, she told herself. Make sure he has no intentions of telling his father about it.

While Missy was in the living room figuring out what she needed to do, Jason was in his room fretting over his own reactions to the video. He couldn't believe his mother would have done that, even in her youth. She acted so puritanical.

But what surprised him even more was his response to the video itself - or more precisely, how it was affecting him now that he knew it was her. When he'd first started watching it, he'd been excited by the image of the girl made up like she was in in an 80s music video dancing to some popular rock ballad. Wearing bright red lipstick and smoky eyeshadow, her long brunette hair was all puffed up and she wore an outfit that left very little to the imagination. The short, denim jacket hung open so her ample breasts were clearly defined beneath the tight t-shirt that had the bottom section torn off, exposing her midriff. She'd also worn a mid-thigh length skirt that was so tight it looked like it'd been painted on her round little ass and delicate hips. Dancing in a pair of fuck-me heels, she'd moved in ways that made her body tantalize while occasionally running her hands over her sensual curves.

Outside of the camera's view the guy - his mother had said his name was Frank - could be heard encouraging her to strip. Which she soon did. First peeling off the jacket then the t-shirt, she revealed that she didn't wear a bra. Her luscious breasts were fronted by dark nipples that were already partially swollen, and as she continued to gyrate they stiffened into hard spikes.

The camera that'd been used was clearly high quality. When it zoomed in on her breasts for a minute the auto-focus kept them from growing blurry even momentarily and their warm flesh seemed to resonate through the screen. Also Frank had obviously spared little expense in getting the film digitized, since throughout the remaining film other aspects were zoomed in on even though the camera was clearly set up on some kind of stand, probably a tripod. Either Frank had edited in these highlights, or he'd paid someone to do it...

Or there'd been no tripod and a third person had actually been manning the camera.

No way! Jason told himself, denying the possibility. No. No way would Mom have...

Snapping open his computer he searched out the clip, putting in his earbuds and turning the volume up so he could listen for telltale sounds that would out a third party. This time, knowing who it was, he wondered how he'd missed it the first time as the 18-year-old version of his mother smiled into the camera. But then his gaze crawled downward and he knew how he'd missed it . . . her face hadn't been his main focus. When Frank started encouraging her to undress, Jason concentrated on the sound of his voice, trying to discern if there was another voice coaxing her on as well. He didn't hear any and soon he was gazing at her luscious breasts again, transfixed by their smooth curves and the dark, erect nipples. Rewinding and replaying this portion he felt confident the zooming in on her breasts was done with the camera at the time and its steady framework definitely suggested some kind of stand.

He was also certain that he was getting excited watching it.

Even with his focus on so many minute details, his cock was pulsing within his clothes. And it pulsed harder as the young version of his mother drew the skirt's zipper down and let it fall into a puddle around her feet. Now all she wore were the heels and a pair of peach colored panties with thin straps that rode high on her slim hips to dive down in a sharp vee over her crotch. Turning around she displayed her round little ass to the camera, the peach panties running midway across her fleshy asscheeks. Just like earlier, here was where Jason slipped his own clothing off, releasing his semi-hard cock. Taking himself in hand he watched her dance and gyrate for a couple more minutes, then she approached Frank and knelt down in front of him.

Still at least partially focused on figuring out if there was a third party, Jason again rewound and replayed this part a few times. Deciding that the camera's change in angle was most likely done using a control stick attached to it, he listened to Frank urging her to suck his cock. And again, he didn't hear any other voices.

For the next few minutes he watched his mother pleasure the guy with her mouth; her elegant lips sliding up and down on his rigid shaft . . . her fingers wrapped around its base and tugging. Now he was certain that the only sounds he heard were Frank's groans encouraging her and his mother mewling as she gave one of the most sensational, enthusiastic blow-jobs Jason had ever seen. He loved the way she kept her lips locked tightly around the thick shaft, never removing it from her mouth, and the way she stared up through the tops of her eyes at Frank, ignoring the camera as if it wasn't even there.

Of course, this was also when he'd first had a suspicion that the girl looked familiar, something about those eyes had triggered a tiny thread of recognition.

At that time, he'd been enthralled by the scene. But now it was even more captivating as the thought that it was his mother on her knees with that big cock in her mouth kept running through his mind. And the hand stroking his own rigid manhood pumped up and down faster.

As good as her blow-job was, Frank had other ideas for his cock. He pulled her to her feet and the clip's editing snapped to her laying back on a bed with Frank joining her. Climbing almost on top of her, he played with her breasts for a couple minutes. Again some editing zoomed in on her fleshy mounds as his hands molded and sculpted them, his fingers tweaking her engorged nipples. Then as he lowered his mouth atop one of the nipples, the zoom adjusted to her face, showing her impassioned expression for the next couple moments while Frank was obviously suckling on and molesting her breasts.

Earlier, this had been when the tiny thread of recognition and grown into a thick strand of rope, making Jason's hand start to stutter in its stroking of his cock. Now though, it sped up as he again thought how it was his mother's lustful expression he was admiring.

The camera view pulled back to show Frank dragging her panties off her hips and down her legs. As he tossed them aside she wantonly spread her legs and the camera zoomed in on her beautiful pussy momentarily. There was no doubt she was aroused. Her sex mound was swollen and glistened with her juices, droplets shimmering dewlike in a thin layer of brunette hairs. At its center her dark lips were engorged, flowering open in invitation. Then the view pulled back once again and Frank stuffed that beautiful pussy with his big cock, taking a few pumps to get the entire thing inside her.

"Ooh God!" Jason's mother moaned out.

That was when the recognition had screamed through him.

Until that moment she hadn't spoken, the only sounds she'd made being mewls, whimpers, and moans; sounds that Jason never heard her make. And if it hadn't been for the recognition already tingling in him he might not have recognized her voice even then, since it was laden so heavily with lust. But he had. That was when he'd breathed an expletive and quickly jerked his clothes back on before calling for her.

This time he had a completely different reaction.

As he watched Frank wildly fuck the younger version of his mother . . . watched her tits roll and jiggle fluidly upon her chest . . . listened to her moan out in lustful rapture . . . he grabbed a couple tissues from his nightstand and unloaded his semen into them. Then he sat there, his cock withering in his lap, and continued watching the clip . . . watching his mother fuck Frank back, her legs lifting her to meet his primal thrusts. He watched her body writhe and squirm in orgasmic delight . . . twice. Watched her muscles spasm under her flesh . . . her hands grabbing at the sheet under her . . . pulling and tugging at it as her back arched and she crammed herself onto the manhood stuffing her sex. Watched her head snap from side-to-side on her straining neck . . . her puffed out hair swirling with it . . . her eyes closed . . . her mouth open.

He watched the video until its eventual end with Frank unleashing his load inside her, all the while the camera recording his mother's lustful expressions and erotic moans.

Afterwards he got ready for bed, but as he lay there waiting for sleep a series of confusing thoughts kept it at bay. Still shocked by the video, he was also a little embarrassed. Not only had he just jacked-off to the video of his mother, he'd found it extremely exciting, and he was now having strange, new thoughts about her.

Jason knew his mom was a MILF. All his buddies had the hots for her and would ogle her whenever she was around, especially at the pool when she wore a bikini. Until now he'd never looked at her like that.

Now he couldn't stop.

At 40, his mother didn't have the same trim 18-year-old body in the video, but she kept in shape. Her waist was still slim and her round little ass was taut. In fact, the couple of pounds she had gained seemed to have mainly ended up at her breasts, the fleshy mounds being fuller than in the video so that they strained her bikini tops. Her fresh, girl-next-door looks had matured without losing their freshness and her lush, cascading brunette hair still shimmered richly.

Yes, he could now definitely see what his friends did.

In another part of the house Missy also struggled to find sleep, worrying about Jason's discovery and how she might discuss it with him in the morning. How she might convince him that his father didn't need to know about it without being too obvious.

Over breakfast she took her shot.

"Honey, I think we need to talk about... Well, about that video," she started.

"Um, do we really have to?" Jason didn't want to, fearing that it'd only confuse him further. He was already self-conscious, having spent the last several minutes checking his mother out; admiring the delicate curves to her body, the swell of her breasts under the t-shirt and the delicate shape of her ass in the cotton shorts. And while he kept telling himself he shouldn't be, he couldn't help imagining what she'd look like today doing those things from the video.

"I think we do... we should," she pressed. "You really need to understand that was a whole different time, both in the era and in my life. It was a mistake and I never would have done it if I hadn't been so immature."

"Ok. Let's just forget about it then," he offered, hoping she'd let it drop as he struggled not to stare across the table at her chest . . . tried not to think about how luscious her tits looked in the bikinis she wore.

"I... I just want to make sure you... um, you..." her words faltered as she tried to think of the right way to say what she needed to, to ensure he kept it a secret from Tom.

In the following silence Jason focused on his food, praying his own refusal to say more would stop her from continuing.

"Look, Honey," she exhaled, determined to make her case, fearing if she didn't he might let something slip at some point. "It's really important that you keep this from your father."

"Mom, I basically want to just forget I even found it, so there's no way I'd wanna tell Dad," he said, exasperated by her thinking he'd do that.

"Good. Good," she nodded, accepting his rational and deciding to change the subject. "I have to take a few packages for your aunt and uncle to the shipping store this morning, do you wanna go with me?"

"No. I'll just hang-out here and play my game."

"Ok. I'll need your help later getting the rest of the stuff down out of the attic."

"Yea, sure."

An hour later Missy was on her way with the packages and Jason was in front of the TV playing his game. He'd been at it for a while when a thought suddenly went ricocheting through his mind, causing him to lose track of where he was in the game.

"Holy shit!" He cursed. "She's afraid of Dad findin' out. And not because she doesn't want him knowing I was lookin' at porn."

The single thought rapidly turned into a series of deductions and conclusions, supported by an array of sudden observations he'd somehow failed to piece together until that moment. There was the lack of pictures of his mother during her high school years. Except for a couple prom pics, he'd never seen any photos of her between the ages of 15 or 16 until she'd met his father. And while the prom pics were obviously from the 80s, she wasn't made up like in the video. That was part of the reason he hadn't recognized her sooner; he'd never seen her tarted up like that. Then there was his parent's concerns when they'd suspected him and his girlfriend of being sexually active. They'd both claimed to be virgins...

"That's why!" He exclaimed, the realization hitting him. "She told Dad she was a virgin... and obviously she wasn't."

Jason chastised himself for not putting it together sooner, when they'd been at the breakfast table. Obviously, he'd been too preoccupied with his own confusion at the time - trying not to stare at her tits - to put it together then.

And now that he had . . . he had some things to think about.

Running her errands, Missy tried not to think about the video and whether or not Jason meant it when he said he had no intentions of telling his father about it. She did find some solace in knowing he wouldn't want Tom knowing that he was looking at porn. But was that enough?

Back at the house, she found him engrossed in his game and left him to play while she took care of a few things before making him help with the attic. Knowing it'd be dusty, she changed into a t-shirt and pair of cotton shorts then pulled her hair back in a tight ponytail.

When it was time to help, Jason put down his game and got started. He was distracted the whole time, torn between trying desperately not to look at his mother in that way while being unable to stop himself. And more than once he had to quickly divert his gaze as she turned around or raised her eyes to his. He just couldn't help noticing her ass when she bent over right in front of him to pick up a box or how it swayed as she carried it down the stairs ahead of him. Nor could he keep his eyes from grazing over the obvious swells of her breasts under her t-shirt. He also discovered that he loved the way her fresh features shined with a thin coating of sweat and her long ponytail shimmered in the light. He found himself thinking about the video and how she'd looked - how she'd acted - throughout it, as well as . . . other things.

When they finished, they both took showers before dinner.

In the shower, Jason started imaging what his mother must look like these days doing the things she'd done in the video and he soon had an erection. He quickly stroked it off, his mind filling with images of the video and other thoughts about his mother.At first, in her own shower, Missy wasn't thinking about much other than being glad she was almost done with all the work. She had a few more things to ship off to Tom's siblings and a couple items needing packed for her to take home when she returned after the estate auction. After the auction she'd donate the remaining items to charity and the realtor would put the house on the market. Hopefully, it'd sell quickly.

On that, she had some doubts.

While the house was in good condition, the local market wasn't exactly hopping. The town was slowly dying. There wasn't a lot of employment opportunities and you had to drive twenty minutes to get anywhere. Most of the people still there were like her father-in-law; older folks who were just living out their final years in the home they'd owned for decades and raised their families in. But the realtor seemed confident some young couple wouldn't mind the commute since they were able to offer it at a low price.

These thoughts led her back to Jason and what had happened the previous night. He was right, there weren't any girls around, at least not anywhere near his age. There were some younger ones, grandkids spending summer time with their grandparents, but most teenage girls didn't want to visit here. So he was lonely.

And horny obviously.

She remembered what it'd been like to be eighteen . . . how the boys were. It seemed like they were always randy. Especially Frank, the one with the camcorder. He was the horniest man she'd ever met. And he'd gotten her to do things she never would have thought she would, the video being just one example.

As her mind wandered back to those days and the guys she'd been with, a warmth began to simmer deep down inside her . . . a yearning for some intimacy. She was soon wishing that Tom was there so he could pleasure her. Absent of him, she wished she'd brought her toy. But the thought of bringing it to her in-laws' place seemed strange and a little wrong. Plus she would've had to hide it from Tom, since he didn't even know she had one.

While he was a terrific lover and they had sex on a regular basis, about 10 years earlier she'd discovered it just wasn't enough. She needed it more frequently. At first she'd tried getting him to take care of her needs. He'd been receptive to her advances, but after a while it'd gotten to be too much work with their busy lives and she'd broken down and gotten her first toy, using it when he had to work late or was away on business trips.

Lately she'd been using it a lot after spending a Saturday afternoon at the pool with Jason's friends ogling her. Something about those young men admiring her physique aroused her. Of course she made a point of showing herself off to them too, making sure to arch her back when pulling her hair back after diving into the water, or bending over to pick up her towel; the acts making her feel naughty.

All of these thoughts fueled the warmth flowing through her and she suddenly realized her fingers were delving between her legs while her other hand was using the soapy washcloth to massage her breasts. With a start, she pushed all the thoughts aside and quickly finished showering. Climbing out, she vigorously toweled off, using the rough action to squelch some of the warmth, then pulled her damp hair back into another tight ponytail.

While Jason was using the open bath to shower, she used the master suite's, but she wasn't sleeping in the master bedroom. Somehow neither her nor Tom had felt comfortable sleeping in the same bed as his deceased parents, so they'd set up in his sister's old bedroom. Wrapping a towel around herself, she made her way to her room feeling a little self-conscious and happy that she didn't run into her son along the way. From the dresser she retrieved a bra and pantie set and slipped them on. They were light blue with lace edges, the kind that Tom liked her in. Although delicate looking, the bra was sturdy and held her ample breasts firmly, with the tops swelling out prominently from under the material's edges. The panties had straps that rode high on her hips and dived down over her neatly trimmed pussy then ran up along the middle of her asscheeks.

"Shit," she cursed when she pulled open the drawer with her t-shirts and cotton shorts that she liked to wear when lounging around. The drawer was empty. She'd been so wrapped up in other things, first worrying about Jason and the video, then getting everything done that she wanted to, she'd completely forgotten she'd meant to do laundry earlier.

Her eyes darted around the room looking for something to wear. They settled on the little silk robe she used to visit the bathroom in the middle of the night, when she wasn't apt to bump into Jason. She'd had it for years, but Tom was the only one to ever see her in it. It'd fit her well when she'd first gotten it, but as her body had changed it gotten slightly snug, especially in the chest region.

Before conceding that it was her only option she looked in the basket holding her dirty clothes. A couple of the items might have passed muster earlier, but not now since she'd tossed the ones she'd worn while clearing the attic on top of them.

"What else am I gonna do?" She mumbled, accepting the situation.

Putting on the robe, she cinched the sash as tight as she could, trying to hide as much cleavage as possible. It helped, but there was still a fair amount showing as the silky material strained over her full breasts. Knowing there was nothing she could do about the midthigh hem, she told herself she'd just have to be cautious about how she moved or bent over.

Picking up the clothes basket she headed for the laundry room, yelling for Jason to bring his own basket. She'd dumped her clothes into the washer and was adding the liquid detergent when she heard an audible intake of air behind her.

Carrying his basket of clothes, Jason stepped around the corner and through the laundry room door. His eyes instantly went to his mother's round little ass in the silky bathrobe and he froze, his breath catching. Through the robe's shimmering white material he could just make out the blue of her panties running across the middle of her cheeks.

"Are those all of them?" Missy asked, turning around. She immediately knew the reason for his surprised expression and a tinge of color rose to her cheeks as she reflexively reached up to pull at the robe's top portion, trying to hide her cleavage.

"Yea. This is it," he mumbled, his gaze instinctively watching her hands and taking in the sight of the robe straining over her breasts, the visible cleavage, and the shadow of her bra through the silky material.

"Add them to the washer then start it," she told him, seeing where he was staring making her even more self-conscious. Her own gaze dropped as she hustled past him, her hands holding the robe's edges. "I'll start dinner."

On the way to the kitchen she silently chastised herself for not doing laundry earlier. Her jangling nerves led her to quickly pour herself a glass of wine and swallowed half of it, hoping it'd help calm them. Then, to help get her mind off things, she started dinner preparations.

Dumping his own clothes into the washer, Jason closed the lid and hit the start button. But his mind wasn't on the task. It was busy with . . . other thoughts. Specifically his mother in that robe . . . the way it fit on her sexy body . . . was strained by her luscious tits.

And how he might get his hands on those tits.

Holy fuck! The thought steamrolled through him. Until that moment he hadn't had that specific of a thought . . . of an urge. Sure, he'd been having some generic thoughts about her since the previous night, but he hadn't actually considered...

Now that he had, he took a moment to think it over . . . to consider the possibilities . . . the pros and cons. It didn't take him long to determine that, given the chance, he would love to fuck her. So what if it wasn't appropriate, a mother and son. So what if society disapproved. Yet, because of that exact sticking point, he would have to tread carefully and if he didn't see a good opening, he'd have to forget about it.

But he wasn't about to give up easily. Remembering the video and her concern about his father finding out about it, he thought he had an idea. He determined that over dinner he'd try learning just how afraid she was and go from there.

"You need any help?" He asked, walking into the kitchen.

"No, thank you, Honey." Missy hadn't expected him to join her and she jumped a little when he spoke. "Why don't you go play your game and I'll let you know when it's ready."

"I'm kind of tired of the game," he lied, taking a seat at the table. "I don't usually have this much time to play it."

"Um... ok." For some reason his presence made her extremely self-conscious and she quickly finished her glass of wine then poured herself another.

Trying not to be obvious about it, Jason watched her move around the kitchen, watched her voluptuous body move under the robe's silky material. He enjoyed the image of her thighs striking out from under its hem which was higher than any of the shorts or skirts he usually saw her in. In fact, it was even higher than the skirt in the video. When she had her back to him, he admired the shadowy line of her panties running across her delicate asscheeks and, when she turned to the side, the slightly clearer line of her bra as well as the way her breasts were so well pronounced within the robe's confines. The top portion had a habit of shifting open to reveal a little more cleavage before she'd reach up and pull it closed again. Realizing that he was getting an erection, he scooted closer to the table to hide it from view. When she sat the food on the table and took a seat across from him, he had to fight the urge to stare at the robe's opening.

While the start of his plan was simple enough, just asking a few questions to determine her level of concern, he found himself hesitating as he thought about his end goal. Trying to find the courage he needed, he took a few bites of food and complimented her cooking.

"So, Mom, I've been thinking." He said after a few minutes, deciding he had to start. "I don't know if I'm comfortable keeping a secret from Dad."

"Huh?" Missy's heart fluttered, his words immediately raising her fear.

"You know... about what I was doin'." Nervous about what he was attempting, he had to concentrate on keeping his tone calm and his expression casual. "It just doesn't feel right."

"But... Honey... What good would come from him knowing?" She sputtered, wondering what had caused him to change his mind since that morning. Her own sudden nervousness caused her hand to shake slightly as she reached for her wine glass and lifted it to her lips.

Jason saw this and knew he'd struck a nerve. Allowing his gaze to glance down at the succulent swell of her cleavage peeking out from the robe's edges he saw them tremble gently, yet another indication of her sudden emotional state.

"Haven't you guys always taught me not to keep secrets though?" He pressed.

Sipping at her wine, she thought how this was exactly what'd worried her; that the way they'd raised him would backfire in this instance. Frantically, she tried to figure out how to convince him not to tell Tom without giving away the real reason she didn't want him to know. Hoping it would be enough, she decided to stick with her reasoning from the previous night.

"Honey, you know how your father feels about pornography and I just don't think it'd be a good idea for him to know you were looking at it."

"But he was my age once. Maybe there wasn't any internet then, but I'm sure he remembers what it was like." He said, then made a point of locking eyes with her. "You remember, don't you."

Alarms began going off in Missy's mind and her breath caught as she sensed there was some deeper implication behind this last statement . . . something she wasn't yet picking up on. Staring across the table at him, she tried reading his expression for a clue, but the only thing she could discern was a glint in his eye . . . one that made the alarms grow louder.

"Of course, I remember..." she managed to keep her voice semi-steady. "But your father was quite different from you at your age. You have to remember where we met."

"In church, right?" He couldn't stop his lips from curling into a tiny grin as she went right where he wanted.

"Yes. That's right." She was too frazzled to notice the grin, much less decipher its meaning. "Your father was very religious at the time, so I really don't think he'll be able to empathize with you in this."

"Yea, you're probably right," he shrugged, then let silence fill the room for a moment before continuing. "You both were pretty into the church thing back then, weren't you?"

"Yes. I guess you could say that." This time her voice did shake a little, her mind and nerves shifting into overdrive as she suddenly realized where he might be going and how she'd opened the door for him. Unable to think how she might sidestep the issue, she ended up blurting out more than she wanted. "But I'd just started, whereas your father had been attending his whole life."

"Oh yea, that makes sense... considering the video." He again forced his expression to remain casual as he brought the conversation back to his main point.

In the heavy silence that followed Missy desperately tried to figure out what her son was up to . . . where exactly he was going with this.

Jason gave her a moment before continuing, watching her drain her wine glass and reach for the bottle to refill it.

"Speaking of the video... What'd Dad say when you told him back in the day?"

Missy nearly dropped the empty bottle. Her heart raced. The alarms blared. She now knew he was backing her into a corner for some reason, she just couldn't figure out why. Taking another drink of her wine she thought how best to answer him, briefly considering taking his lead and pretending that she had told his father. She could claim that Tom had been understanding about her transgressions. But she knew that while that path might prove the easiest way to end the conversation, adding one lie on top of another was dangerous. If she did that, and he did end up saying something - even a few years down the road - it could make things worse. Then she thought she might get around that eventual issue by telling the lie now, then telling Tom herself. But she wasn't sure she could do that, not after so many years.

"I, uh... I don't think I did. Remember, I forgot about it." She offered. But even as she said it, she knew it sounded lame and that it'd been a mistake.

"Come on, Mom. I understand how you might've forgot about it after all these years, but back then? How long after makin' it did ya meet Dad?"

"I-It wasn't that long. I... I was still 18," she stammered, staring down at her empty plate, unable to meet his gaze. Her heart was continuing to race and her nerves were jangling. Trying to calm them, she took several deep breaths.

"So, you couldn't have forgotten it that quickly," he pressed while taking advantage of her downcast eyes to gaze lingeringly at her breasts peeking out from under the robe. His cock pulsed inside his clothing as he watched them rise and fall with her breaths.

Missy decided to be as direct as possible with him . . . try to reason with him. Convince him that his father simply did not need to know about the video and to drop it. Taking another drink of wine, she stole her nerves and raised her eyes to his.

"Look, Honey, that video was made when I still lived with grandma and grandpa and it was one of the reasons I moved in with my grandparents. To get away from the people I was hanging out with... the things I was doing. I was trying to put it behind me and so I didn't tell your father about it, or any of the other things I had done."

"Oh." He pretended to think about this although she'd just confirmed what he'd already deduced. "That's right... weren't you supposedly a virgin when you and Dad married?"

Missy could swear her heart actually stopped beating for a minute. He'd figured it out. But did he know his father still believed the lie? After a moment's thought she decided to try masking the lie . . . not adding another one, just kind of twisting the truth.

"Yes. Well, I considered myself one since I was reborn in the church," she offered. "I put all my past sins behind me."

"Did you have to confess them or anything?" He played along with her obvious attempt at an excuse.

"No, not really," she nearly whispered.

"I get it," he shrugged, deciding that he had what he wanted and didn't need to press the issue anymore . . . for the moment.

That would come later.

With dinner finished, Missy started clearing the table, hoping she'd managed to put an end to whatever it was he was trying. But she couldn't shake the feeling that she hadn't.

After helping her with the dishes, Jason went to his room to prep for the next phase. First he checked his laptop to make sure the videos he'd started downloading had finished. They involved older women with young guys while avoiding mothers and sons, since he feared that'd be too direct and ruin his approach. After making sure they were cued up, he removed his underwear and slipped his gym shorts back on for easy access to his cock. Once preparations were in place, it was time to wait. He knew he'd gotten his mother frazzled and expected her to consume more wine than usual . . . hoped she would. Alcohol had a way of reducing one's inhibitions, and he wanted hers well diminished.

Left alone, Missy was unwittingly playing into his hopes. She was quite rattled by the conversation and remained extremely concerned about Jason telling his father about the video. This led to her wanting something stronger than wine and her father-in-law had kept a bottle of whiskey in a kitchen cabinet. Getting it, she poured three fingers of the amber liquid over ice, then went into the living room to sit in front of the TV in an attempt to distract her from thinking about things.

It didn't work.

She sat there in a kind of trance, absently staring at the TV and drinking the whiskey, her mind continuing to rehash the conversation . . . picking it apart . . . trying to determine exactly what her son had intended to gain from it.

"Hey, Mom."

"Huh!" She yelped, the sound of his voice startling her and nearly causing her to spill her drink. Looking over, she saw him standing by the hall's entrance, his gaze down at where her robe was hanging open a little and her empty hand reflexively came up to pull it closed. This reminded her that she hadn't put the clothes into the dryer. Setting her drink down she stood up to go take care of the chore.

"Can we talk?" He asked, causing her to pause.

"Um... uh... yea, just hang on a minute, Honey. Let me put the clothes in the dryer." Then she hustled past him, holding the top of the robe closed. In the laundry room, wondering what he wanted to talk about now, internal alarms once again began trying to warn her of something. But she had no idea of what.

She switched to whiskey! Jason thought happily, as he set his computer on the coffee table and took a seat on the couch. While waiting for her return, he used the remote to turn off the TV then sat thinking about the cleavage her open robe had revealed when he'd first entered.

Back in the living room, she walked past him and picked up her glass. Seeing that all that remained was some faintly tinted water, she told him to wait another minute and went into the kitchen. Dumping the contents out, she replaced the ice cubes and poured fresh whiskey over them. Then she took several deep breaths, trying to quiet the alarms and her jangling nerves.

Returning to the living room, she took her seat at the end of the couch again, noticing his laptop for the first time. The fact that he'd turned off the TV made sense, since he wanted to talk. But she couldn't understand why he had the computer and her mind conjured up dozens of possible reasons for this - the first one having something to do with that video. Yet, none of them were close to right.Silently sitting there for a moment, Jason worked up the courage to reveal his intentions. Now that the time was at hand . . . the moment of truth . . . it was proving harder than he'd expected. He was on the verge of trying to get his mother to do something that mothers didn't normally do and most young men wouldn't consider asking . . . probably didn't even contemplate. Although he was determined, it wasn't coming easily and he desperately hoped she'd react the way he wanted . . . the way needed.

He also hoped that, in the end, she'd respond like she had in that video.

"I was thinking," he started, forcing his voice to remain steady. "It seems like you're afraid of Dad findin' out about the video and not because I was watchin' porn."

"Jason... Honey... I-," she began stammering.

"Hey, I'm not judgin' you," he interrupted her, taking one of her hands in his to hold. "I don't know why you've been lying to him all these years, and I don't really care."

Oh shit! He figured it out! The thought raced through her mind. She didn't know how he had, but he had. And now he was making her face it. But why?

"But I do know the video would bring that lie out into the light of day," he continued. "And neither of us know how he'd react."

"I'm sure it'd be fine." She failed to keep her voice from shaking a little.

"Yea, well, we both know that might not be true," he gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "So, I'm thinkin' I should help you keep your secret."

Missy wanted to breathe a sigh of relief. But she couldn't. Something about his demeanor told her that wasn't the end of it . . . that there was more to it.

"I also figure you should do something for me in exchange." Locking eyes with her, he noticed for the first time just how deep her brown eyes were . . . how beautiful they were, and he wondered how he'd never noticed this before.

Missy held her breath, hesitant to ask what he meant as seemingly hundreds of possibilities ran through her mind. Again, none of them correct.

"Are... Are you... trying to blackmail me?" she managed to ask in disbelief.

"Not exactly," he shook his head. "I'm just sayin' that if I keep your secret, you should repay the favor. Kind of a quid pro quo thing."

Now it was his turn to hold his breath while trying to calm his own nerves. Standing on the ledge, preparing to leap off it, he suddenly wished he'd thought of a couple other things he could ask for in case he lost his nerve. But he knew it was better this way. Without such a safety net he had to go for it . . . had to find the nerve to take that next step.

After a moment of silence, he took a deep breath and pulled her hand forward to lay it atop his semi-hard cock.

"And I know just the thing," he breathed, his manhood pulsing under her hand.

"What?! Jason!" She jerked her hand back in shock, her eyes darting between his and his crotch where she could see the obvious outline of his manhood.

"I figure you can give me a hand-job while I watch a couple of videos," he said. Now that he'd gone this far, there was no turning back, so he pressed forward.

"Jason... No. No," she stared at him, her first thought being that he meant that video.

"Don't worry. I don't mean that one," he smiled, seeming to read her mind.

And now her mind kicked into overdrive, thinking how whether or not he meant that video didn't really matter as much as what he was asking in general. How could he? Such things simply weren't done. She was his mother, for Christ's sake! He was her son!

"Jason... Tha-That's not appropriate," she gasped, her empty hand instinctively pulling at the robe to close it over her cleavage.

"Neither is that video," he told her, locking eyes with her, forcing his nerves to remain calm as he clung to his determination to make this happen.

Missy recognized that determination, she'd seen in many times in his father's eyes, and she knew he wouldn't back down easily. Breaking from his gaze, she accidentally glanced at his crotch again and saw his manhood pulse through his clothes. Suddenly an unexpected wave of something she never would have expected, given the circumstances, flowed through her.

"It-It's wrong," she declared, that wave making her unsure of just which of them she was actually speaking to.

In the ensuring silence she lifted her eyes to meet his gaze again. She could see the determination remaining steadfast and started calculating her options and their ramifications.

"Ok then. I guess I'll just send the video to Dad now so he can-," he shrugged, turning to reach for his computer.

"Wait. Just wait," her hand shot out to grab his arm.

Turning back, his eyes reflexively gazed down at her chest. Her sudden movement had caused the robe to fall open and he could now see plenty of cleavage where her breasts succulently swelled out above the bra's lace edging.

Missy didn't notice where his eyes were looking. Her mind was too preoccupied with what was happening . . . trying to figure out what to do . . . reeling with his . . . suggestion - as she chose to call it. She figured she had three options; she could call him on his threat, offer him another trade for his silence, or give in to his suggestion.

The first option was the riskiest and its success relied heavily on the hope that he was bluffing. Somehow she didn't think he was. While he knew his father would be upset with him for watching porn, he also knew there was a good chance Tom's main focus would be on her and the lie she'd been telling him all these years.

He'd been talking about wanting a new car, so offering him that in trade instead might work. But now she did notice where he was looking and the lust in his eyes made her fear that if she did attempt negotiating he might demand something . . . more.

So that left giving in to his demand. While it did seem the easiest - and quickest - way past this awkward situation, it was also the most troubling. The indecency of it . . . the impropriety. The idea of giving her son a hand-job went against so much that she'd been taught.

Yet, as this thought passed through her mind, she instinctively glanced down at his obvious manhood hidden within his clothing and a familiar warmth wafted through her body, an anticipatory tingle ran along her nerves.

Where did that come from? She thought in shocked disbelief.

"Honey... Have you really thought about this? About what you're asking me to do?" She asked in a shaky, near whisper.

"Yes, I have," he assured her, taking her hand in his once more.

In fact, Jason had spent a lot of time thinking about it . . . about the taboo his desires embodied. And he'd decided that he simply didn't care. He wanted this . . . wanted her. Not just a hand-job either. He wanted her. But he figured that would too much to ask . . . at first. He was simply hoping the hand-job would lead to more. Much, much more.

"It's just that... Well... We shouldn't do things like that," she breathed, mystified by the contrast between her mind and body. While the former was telling her of the impropriety associated with his suggestion, the latter was simmering, her nerves tingling. This conflict caused her to lift her glass and take a heavy sip of the whiskey it held.

"Maybe not. But it's what I want," he told her, drawing her hand to his crotch again.

Falling into a kind of haze, Missy watched her hand being drawn forward . . . watched it being placed atop his cock. His manhood pulsed and she inhaled sharply, her eyes closing softly as the sensation sent electrical jolts shooting through her . . . made her fingers reflexively tense atop the member. Suddenly ashamed by her reaction, her eyes shot open and darted up to his face. His smile told her he'd felt her fingers trying to wrap themselves around him and now believed he'd won . . . that she would do as he asked.

And she knew he was right.

As much as her mind objected to the idea of jerking him off, her body was reacting in a completely different manner. The warmth flowing through her grew hotter, turning into tropical breezes that made her flesh simmer and stirred an ache deep, deep inside her. Adding to these things was his obvious size; he was definitely his father's son. All of this caused her hand to remain in place when he pulled his away, no longer holding it at his crotch. It even slid back and forth slightly.

What are you doing?! She silently asked herself, shocked by her actions . . . her body's simmering heat. Taking another sip of her whiskey, she struggled with the internal turmoil . . . tried to find some balance . . . some kind of compromise between the two sides.

Leaning back, Jason grinned happily as she rubbed at his cock . . . her hand growing heavier . . . her fingers tensing more. Seeing the growing laxness of her features he knew she was getting aroused. He might not have had a lot of experience with girls, but he'd watched enough porn to recognize true arousal in a woman's face; the ones that didn't need spit to lubricate their pussy's when being fucked. Within his shorts his cock throbbed into a full erection.

Still, he waited another couple moments before pressing her for confirmation.

"So, I take it you agree to my proposition," he said when he felt the time was right.

Drifting along in a kind of trance, the building warmth of her body had quieted her mind's objections and nearly allowed her to forget whose cock she was rubbing at. But his voice drew her out of that trance and her gaze lifted to his face to remind her, giving new voice to her mental turmoil and making her hand freeze.

"Mom?" He pressed, reaching out to rest a hand on her thigh just below the robe's hem.

His hand was heavy . . . his palm hot against her flesh . . . and it sent new tingles racing through her body, made her heart pound in her chest. She thought how handsome he was, like Tom at that age. She'd seen it before, but never really saw it. Not until that moment. She knew that she was going to do what he asked, and she knew he knew it too. But she suddenly found herself thinking about doing other things . . . things that were much more objectionable considering their relationship . . . things that frightened her. That fear made her decide she needed to get it over with before...

"Ok. Just this once," she quietly sighed in resignation.

Grinning, Jason grabbed the waistband of his shorts and lifted his ass to push them down.

Pulling her hand away, Missy's breath caught at the sight of his cock popping into view. She'd been right, it was big and thick with prominent veins and a bulbous head, like his father's. The memory of how Tom's felt sliding deep inside her sex filled her mind . . . made her entire body begin to sizzle.

No! Don't think about that! She chastised herself, again frightened, and she again lifted her glass to her lips to sip at the whiskey.

After working his shorts down and off, he kicked them to the side, then leaned forward to cue up the videos on his computer. Leaning back, he rested his hand on her thigh again, the other settling on the couch beside him.

The first video started. In it a woman in her 30s was talking to a college-age guy who had obviously just finished doing some yard work for her. it didn't take long for her to invite him inside for a cold drink.

Missy didn't really notice the pair's ages as she tentatively reached over to take his rigid cock in hand. As her fingers wrapped themselves around it, her breath caught and electricity sparked along her nerves. Instinctively she started to gently stroke it . . . her hand delicately working up and down along the thick shaft. The warmth flowing through her grew hotter, tropical gusts fanning the familiar ache deep inside her and, setting her drink on the coffee table, she slid over a little closer to him.

Beside her, Jason barely watched the video. Instead, his eyes darted between his mother's jerking hand and the image of her facial features growing lax . . . their lustful appearance giving him hope for his ultimate goal. Her body was turned partway towards him and glancing down he saw that the robe had fallen open so he could clearly see her one breast swelling out from inside the bra's edge. He had to fight the urge to reach over and take it in hand. He also had to focus on the hand at her thigh, keep it from hungrily sliding up under the robe's hem as it slid up and down a couple inches along her flesh.

Sitting next to him, his mother might not have noticed the pair's age difference, but she was watching the video, finding it difficult to pull her eyes away. She was mesmerized, watching the woman drop to her knees in front the guy, her hands pulling his shorts down to release a sizable cock. Missy had never watched porn before, yet she instinctively knew what the woman was about to do and her heart raced with anticipation as the woman took that cock in hand and guided it toward her mouth. Then a quiet sigh slipped past her own lips as the woman slid hers onto the thick shaft to pump them back and forth along it.

Missy loved doing that . . . loved having a hard cock in her mouth. She loved the dirtiness of the act and the feel of it . . . the taste . . . the way the rigid shaft would slide along her lips . . . caress the little nerve-endings. She loved the feel of a man's hand in her hair . . . his fingers tensing in her tresses . . . their pleased groans as she sucked and licked their manhood.

And watching the woman do this made her mouth fall open slightly . . . her tongue run along her lips. Her eyes reflexively darted down to the manhood she was stroking, an urge to take it in her mouth suddenly rolling through her.

No! You can't! It's your son! She silently screamed at herself even as she saw the precum glistening at the cock's tip and wondered how it'd taste . . . how similar to Tom's it would be. Deciding she needed this to be over with, she used her hand to rub the precum down onto the shaft so she could hold it tighter, jerk on it a little faster.

Jason saw his mother's response to the action in the video and it was what he'd hoped for. In her own video she'd seemed to enjoy sucking Frank's cock, audibly moaning as she'd pumped her lips up and down on his shaft, appearing almost resistant when he'd made her stop. Now Jason though it might be his turn.

"You know, it'd probably be more comfortable for you if you were in front of me." He purposely avoided saying who it'd be more comfortable for and brought his hand up to her shoulder to gently push, urging her off the couch.

Understanding what he meant, Missy's mind screamed in opposition. He wanted her on her knees before him, like the woman in the video. She didn't know if he intended for her to do what the woman was doing, but he wanted her in a position that would allow for it and she wasn't confident in her ability to stop that from happening, so she resisted . . . for a moment. Her body tensed, refusing to move, while her eyes shot to his face to try and see if she could discern any such intention.

Jason wanted her to believe his suggestion was strictly about comfort . . . needed her to believe it. So he forced his expression to lie as he returned her gaze. It wasn't easy, but it must have worked because her body relaxed and she slipped off the couch.

As she slid down to her knees, she moved between his legs, her empty hand coming to rest on his thigh. While her hand stopped jerking on him during the transition, she never released his cock, her fingers remaining wrapped around him. And once she was repositioned, her hand started pumping up and down again, more precum offering added lubrication.

For the next couple minutes, Jason sat there, admiring the image of his mother kneeling before him, jerking him off. The ponytail held her hair back and her beautiful features were flush as she intently stared at his cock, her tongue licking her open lips a couple times. Also the silky, white robe had fallen loosely open giving him the best view so far of her luscious breasts within the light blue bra.

With the tropical breezes growing stronger as they wafted through her, Missy stared at the tantalizing image of the manhood she was tugging on . . . watched her hand gliding up and down. That image teased her . . . taunted her . . . forced her to fight the urge to take him into her mouth. She kept reminding herself whose cock it was and that she shouldn't do that for him . . . telling herself that she was already well outside of societal norms by giving him the hand-job and that she shouldn't make matters worse. But behind her the video was still playing and she could hear the woman's moans, whimpering out phrases that let Missy know the man was eating her pussy. These sounds . . . the images they created . . . the memories they induced . . . heightened the force of the heated gusts . . . caused them to fan her embers into sizzling, snapping coals of desire. And as the ache within her grew, so did the desire to take him into her mouth . . . to taste him . . . to feel his rigid shaft caressing her lips. Whimpering quietly with this inner turmoil, her fingers tensing on his thigh, she lifted her eyes to his to try again and see if he had any such thoughts. And what she saw made her heart race.

Jason was indeed thinking about her sucking his cock, and that desire made his eyes gleam with lust. The desire was no longer strictly about hoping the act would push her to the next level. Now it was more a burning need to have his cock in his mother's mouth . . . to watch her do it . . . watch her treat his cock to the same attentions she'd given Frank's . . . the same ones she probably gave his father's. He wanted her to suck his cock, plain and simple.

And he knew that if it didn't happen soon, he might not get the chance.

Watching her give him the hand-job already had his climax boiling within his balls. Past her pumping hand her robe had fallen open enough to reveal most of her bra and breasts, her stroking actions making the luscious mounds quiver within their confines. Her features had grown more and more beautiful with her arousal and when she gazed up at him a struggle was obviously being fought behind her smoldering eyes. Hoping that struggle emulated his own desire, he searched for the courage he needed. While he didn't want to ruin what was already happening . . . didn't want to do anything that might cause her to stop . . . with each passing second his desperation to have her suck his cock grew until he couldn't stand it any longer . . . forcing him to take a deep breath and steal his nerves for what he was about to do.

He leaned forward . . . reached out . . . brought his hands to her head. Grabbing her ponytail in one, he cupped the back of her head with the other and applied pressure . . . pushed her face down toward his crotch . . . her mouth to within a couple inches of his cock.

No. Not that. Not that. Missy's mind whimpered in opposition to her body's simmering desire. Seeing him reaching out, she knew what he was doing . . . what he intended . . . and her mind forced her body to tense, her neck tightening against his pressure to stop him from pushing her head down any further. Then she knelt there for what seemed an eternity, staring at his cock and being torn apart by the internal conflict. The sizzling coals within her loins had her wanting to do as he intended . . . to drop her lips around his beautiful cock and taste him . . . suck on him . . . pleasure him. But her mind kept screaming about how it was so inappropriate . . . a mother sucking her son's cock. How it was wrong . . . how she shouldn't do it. Lost in this struggle, her hand faltered in its stroking of his manhood.

Then Jason gave her body's desire all it needed to silence her mind's objections.

"Suck it, Mom. Suck my cock," he ordered, his hand applying more pressure.

Her eyes shot up to stare into his as a quiet whimper escaped her open lips. She loved being talked dirty to. A couple of guys back in the day had done it and it'd always made her feel so naughty . . . gotten her wetter . . . made her enjoy the sex so much more. She'd gotten Tom to try it, but his upbringing always seemed to get in the way, hampering his improvisation.But Jason wasn't his father. He'd noticed Frank talking to her like this in the video and saw how she'd responded. And while he didn't have a lot of experience in it, he was determined to try, hoping it'd prove beneficial to his ultimate goal.

It did work.

His words sparked the naughty feelings in Missy . . . made her want to be naughty . . . want to use her mouth to pleasure him. Within her loins her embers flared into red-hot coals of desire, their heat radiating out to make her muscles relax . . . letting him push her head forward. Her lips touched his cockhead . . . slid onto it . . . down to the indent where the head met the shaft. Locking them tightly around him, she rolled her tongue over the cockhead, tasting precum.

"Oh yes. Suck it like a dirty slut," Jason groaned above her, watching his cockhead disappear into her mouth. Now that she was doing it, he no longer applied pressure to the back of her head, but simply cradled it in his hands, allowing her to be in control . . . for the moment.

Softly mewling, Missy gradually slid her lips down his shaft . . . the rigid flesh caressing the nerve-endings, making her embers sizzle and crackle. With practiced experience she moved her hand down near the base so that her lips came against her fingers just before the cockhead entered her throat. Keeping them there for a moment, she sucked on his manhood while rolling her tongue over and around it.

"Oh God yes. Suck it. Suck it you naughty slut," he sighed, his head rolling back slightly.

Her embers burst into flames, tropical breezes making the red-orange tongues dance and swirl excitedly. Pulling up, she brought her lips to under his cockhead again, and again she held still momentarily; sucking . . . licking. Then she started to slowly pump her lips up and down along his shaft . . . sliding them down against her fingers . . . drawing them back up to under the head. The sensation of sucking a hard cock . . . the taste of it . . . the caressing of her lips, fueled her arousal . . . made her fires grow . . . her body simmer. And she soon gave voice to her lust . . . moaning around his manhood as she fucked it with her mouth.

Jason wasn't silent either. He kept groaning out phrases, telling her to suck his cock . . . telling her she was being dirty . . . acting like a wanton slut.

And of course she couldn't disagree, kneeling there in her in-law's living room eagerly pleasuring her own son like she was. Moments earlier the idea of doing this had seemed so wrong . . . so unacceptable. Yet there she was, not only doing it, but relishing it . . . loving it.

Adding to the heat rolling through her was the sounds coming from the video; wet, slapping sounds mixed with the woman's moans and obscene phrases that told Missy she was being vigorously fucked.

Missy could feel herself growing moist, her body aching for that same kind of attention . . . her sex quivering with a need . . . her fires growing within her loins. The desire radiated outward to make her breasts pulse with their own need . . . a need to be touched . . . to be fondled. Her stroking actions were causing her mounds to shift and rub her nipples against the bra's soft material as they grew hard.

"Oh yes, suck my cock, Mom. Suck it like a good lil' whore," Jason groaned, unable to believe this was actually happening . . . how fantastic it felt . . . how amazing she was at it. True, he'd only had a couple blow-jobs before this, but neither of them had felt anywhere near as good as this. He stared down into her raised eyes, smoldering with her own arousal, for a moment. Then his gaze dropped to watch her jiggling tits where the robe had fallen even further open, allowing him to see the obvious outline of her swollen nipples poking at her bra.

Missy also couldn't believe how much she was enjoying this act of taboo . . . how horny she was getting sucking her son's cock. But she was. Her sex was getting wetter and wetter. Her breasts were pulsing with ache. Shifting forward, she pressed one of them against his leg . . . shoved its plaint flesh against the limb . . . flattened her engorged nipple on it. All the while her lips pumped up and down along his shaft, her hand tugging at the base, jerking on him as she used her mouth to pleasure him.

"Fuck. Suck it. Suck my cock," he growled, his hips humping off the couch to meet her descending lips . . . fucking her mouth back. His initial intention had been to stop her after a few minutes, get her back on the couch and fuck her, like Frank had in the video. But he couldn't. even though he'd already cum once in the shower, the thrill of her sucking him had him on the verge of cumming again and he knew he wouldn't be able to control himself . . . would likely explode before he could get it inside her. Besides, he couldn't be certain she'd let him . . . that she was horny enough to let her son put his cock inside her. And if he tried, she might not finish what she was doing, leaving him to jerk off himself to relieve the pressure boiling up in his balls.

So instead he simply decided to force her to finish him with her mouth. He didn't know how she felt about swallowing; if she'd done it in the past, or for his father. If she'd ever even tried it. Nor did he care at the moment. He was going to force her to swallow for him. Tightening his hold on her ponytail, he tensed his other hand at the back of her head and proceeded to push and pull on it as he pumped himself in and out of her mouth.

"Mmm! Mmm!" Missy moaned, recognizing the signs of his approaching climax, sensing his cock growing more rigid as it slid along her lips. She loved swallowing a man's seed almost as much as sucking his cock. Not the taste of it so much, but the act itself. It was so obscene . . . so dirty . . . letting him use her like that. And the idea that it was her son this time only made it more indecent. Her grip tightened on the base of him as she jerked on him urgently . . . urged his climax forward.

"Oh fuck. Fuck! I'm gonna cum," he groaned, fighting to hold his climax back . . . to enjoy the sensation of her mouth for just . . . one . . . more . . . minute. His hands tensed to hold her head still . . . his hips humping up at her mouth . . . fucking it . . . using it like a pussy.

"Mmm. Mmm!" Missy mewled, sucking on his pistoning cock, tugging at the base.

"Oh fuck yea!" He growled. His hips jerked before her a couple times then froze, half his cock stuffed in her mouth as it began to jump and spray, his semen shooting down her throat.

"Mmm!" She whimpered in alarm and jerked her head back to where her lips hugged the indentation below his cockhead. This allowed her to manage the act of swallowing the eruptions much easier and she gulped down spray after spray of his seed.

"Oh yes," he sighed as the last of it jettisoned from him, his hands falling away from her head to settle on the couch beside him.

Raising her eyes, she gazed into his as she held him in her mouth for a moment, sliding her lips down then back up a couple times, softly suckling and stroking it with her tongue.

"Oh God, Mom," he groaned, the sensation sending shivers along his spine.

"Mom!" Oh Shit! The thought steamrolled through her mind . . . shining brilliant lights on what she'd just done. During the last several minutes, lost in the act itself - in the pleasure and excitement of it - she'd somehow basically forgotten whose cock she was sucking. Or at least the inappropriateness of it. But with his climax the act was over and her mind was able to recover, reminding her of just what she was doing.

Wracked by a sudden sense of shame, she jerked her mouth and hand from him. Jumping to her feet, she was suddenly aware of how disheveled the robe felt on her body and her hands worked feverishly to adjust it, one of them holding the top portion closed as best it could. She needed a drink and spun around in search of her glass. Spotting it sitting right where she'd left it, her empty hand reached for it, her gaze being briefly drawn to the computer screen where the woman was on her hands and knees, being fucked from behind and enthusiastically moaning out her pleasure.

Oh God. Oh God. Her mind whimpered and she hurried around the coffee table and out of the room without looking at Jason. Hustling down the hall, she snapped the door to her room shut behind her then leaned back against it, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts, her heart racing, and her nerves jangling.

Jason watched his mother hurry from the room and heard her door snap shut. Pausing the video, he leaned back against the couch, thinking . . . planning. He'd missed this one opportunity to fondle her tits and fuck her. But that didn't mean he couldn't find another chance.