Clarissa

Welcome to a new story about love and incest. The characters in the story are fictitious and are in no way founded on anyone currently living. It is about a mother and son, and their struggles to not give in to that base creature that lurks beneath the surface of us all.

Please enjoy and leave a comment. Constructive criticism is always welcome.

T.

She woke with that same burning sensation in the pit of her stomach that had pursued her now for weeks. She knew what it meant and like every occasion before, she chose to ignore it. Instead, she got up from bed, went over to her chest of drawers and pulling out some leggings and a top, sat on her dressing table chair to slip on the tight lycra, sans panties, pulling on some socks, then wrestled into an equally tight T-shirt. She knew it was overly small for her, particularly with her sized breasts, but it held them nicely without the need for a sports bra, which she hated wearing. Putting on her jogging shoes, Clarissa slipped quietly from the house, she needed to try and run this thing off.

She loved the freedom that wearing no underwear gave her. Yes, she knew it would attract some attention, most of it unwanted, some…… maybe not so much. She was no exhibitionist, but would get some small enjoyment from the admiring glances that she would get from those few men she passed on her run. It was not too late that she would miss the other running nuts out there, but not too early either, that she would not bump into the odd dog walker or early-bird.

At 39, Clarissa had a good body and she knew it, was proud of it and fully intended to keep it that way. Her curves were all in the right places, her hardness where she wanted it and her general fitness equal to when she was in her twenties. She smiled as she jogged, enjoying her body and how it felt, though the burning sensation as it did on all the other days, got worse rather than better.

Her five-mile run, took her along the tow path of the local canal. It was still cool, though the sun was already up. The dappled light, from the trees she ran beneath, cast mottled shadows that teased her form in darkness and light as she ran. The chill in the air encouraged her already hardened nipples to make a further nuisance of themselves by getting harder and more sensitive still. The friction of her restrained, but not completely captured orbs as they jiggled nicely beneath the T-shirt was causing all sorts of fabulous sensations upon these erected nubs of erogenous tissue, that with each pound upon the road was causing Clarissa a severe distraction.

She found her breathing was not as controlled as it should be from just jogging and at times sounded more like she was involved in activity of another sort, her puffing and panting sounding more like a sexual encounter than a jog, which judging from the way her body was reacting this morning, was probably not far from the truth.

As her long legs pounded the road before her, each and every footfall, seemed to encourage the burning in her stomach, rather than dispense with it and as such, it had now radiated Northwards to her chest and of more concern to Clarissa; Southwards to her groin area. Her body was now in control it would seem. It wanted satisfaction, abuse, pleasure and sensitivity. It wanted something that it had been denied for many months now, it wanted, no, it demanded something of Clarissa. Her body was telling her that it wanted release, unmitigated sexual release. Clarissa was not however, prepared to give in to this primal feeling and despite knowing that she wanted it herself, was unprepared to be the only one involved in that activity.

Clarissa stopped and bent over, putting her hands upon her knees, both to help her catch her breath, but also in an attempt at taking away the distracting influence upon her nipples. Even the swelling of her chest as she took deep draughts of breath created exquisite sensations, emanating from her sensitive nipples and transmitting throughout her body, infiltrating her mind, eroding her resolve, like waves attacking an exposed shore-line.

Her bending down did nothing to help her, and further, only offered a perfect view of her pear-shaped, taught bum, clad in a few microns of stretched material, that hid nothing. She may as well have been naked. The seam of the leggings, was creating some extremely interesting shapes as it dived between her legs. The visual effect was not lost on a slowly passing motorist, who tooted on her horn as she went passed, leering lasciviously. To Clarissa, it was more disturbing than being ogled at by some dirty old man in a rain-coat. She stood up and glared at the woman, who just smiled, appreciatingly at Clarissa’s full chest and misbehaving nipples. “Ow!” Clarissa groan, turning away. But fortunately, the distraction had been enough for Clarissa, she now felt she could make the last mile of her run, without…… well, without having….. she didn’t want to think any more about it, and set off again.

She made her house with what felt like seconds to spare. Her body was in torment. All things sexual, seemed to be firing off. Her chest rose and fell erratically, she knew her erection-topped attributes were being displayed better than any male bird of paradise. She knew her body was telling her that she was primed and ready for sex and it had been transmitting this unequivocally for the last mile, if not the whole run. She was at a turning point, where her body would not take ‘no’, for an answer.

Clarissa had divorced her husband over a year and a half ago. He had found someone else, someone younger than her and that had really hurt, but what had probably hurt even more was that her replacement looked very similar to how she looked twenty years ago. Her husband hadn’t just swapped her for a younger woman, he had swapped her for a younger version of herself! He truly was a bastard.

Of course, Clarissa went through the usual retribution. ‘What did I do wrong?’ Or perhaps, ‘What if I had been more loving as a wife?’ But in the end, she concluded that it was simply that he was a bastard. Their sex and the passion within it had deteriorated years ago and felt like they were just going through the motions to please the other person, when in truth, they weren’t really pleasing anyone. She had assumed it was just an age thing, something all couples go through. It was an age thing; it was because she was getting too old for him! At 39 she was too old?

Clarissa pushed the thought away and slipped her key quietly into the door lock, letting herself into the house. She kicked off her shoes putting them under the little table in the entrance way and placed her keys on top; ascending the stairs as quietly as she could so that she did not wake her 19-year-old son. But as she got to his door, it opened wide and a dishevelled teenager grunted at her. “Hi….ugh.” Chris rubbed at his eyes and yawned, combining several actions all into one.

“Hello Chris, sorry if I woke you?”

“If you mean coming back from your jog, no you didn’t.”

“Meaning I did when I went out?”

“Uh huh.”

Clarissa looked at her son. He was still very much her little boy in countless ways, but in others he was a large and powerful man. His pyjama top was undone and exposed his copper-coloured skin. His chest was completely devoid of hair, which surprised her, because she remembered how proud he had been when at 13, he found his first hair and assumed that he was now a man. ‘He must be shaving it?’ She though as she continued her appraisal. His pectoral muscles looked toned and firm, his little nipples seemed to be erect at the moment, which made her smile wryly. Her eyes travelled to his abdominals, a wash-board of muscle, chiselled, but relaxed. She then gasped as she noticed the ‘tent’ in his pyjama bottoms. ‘How could she not notice the ‘tent?’ She drew in a breath and looked up to his eyes for an explanation?

Chris was casually, but avidly, looking at her chest. “Chris?”

“Er sorry mum,” he said, putting his hands over his misbehaving appendage. “Busting for a pee. You know how it is?” He stumbled around her and disappeared into the toilet, closing the door behind him and leaving Clarissa standing there with her mouth open.

She heard Chris talking to himself, or perhaps more accurately, talking to his penis in encouragement. “Come on now, I’m busting, pack it in!” It was obvious to Clarissa that he was trying to make himself flaccid enough to urinate. She suddenly laughed out loud, and clamping her hand over her mouth, retired to her room. She remembered how her husband had told her, that he must have a pee before sex, because afterwards, it would take him quite a while, before he could pee again. She also remembered her husband’s term for an early morning erection. ‘Piss Proud.’ Her son was ‘Piss Proud.’

To be fair, she had seen her son’s little erection, many a time when he had been a baby and even in his younger years. In fact, when changing his nappy, he had managed to catch her out, and before she knew it, he had emptied his little bladder all over her chest. Her smile broadened as she remembered those years when he was a baby. So much happier than recent years. ‘I guess he is a little bigger now?’ She thought to herself, ‘I wonder how big? If that tent is anything to go by…..’ She pushed her bedroom door to, and moved to her en-suite, disgusted that her thoughts were moving in that direction.

As she stood before the full-length mirror, her mouth dropped open for a second time. The sweat from her run had soaked into her tight-white-T-shirt, turning it pretty-much transparent, where it touched her skin directly. The most notable signs of transparency, where of course, where the material was stretched to its limit, about her breasts and the still wildly mis-behaving nipples, which could be clearly seen within the darkened surroundings of her areola. Her cleavage was also visible as the sweat-soaked T-shirt had given up trying to hide the treasures beneath it. In fact, she may as well have not been wearing the thing at all, for all of the protection it gave her! “My God,” she said quietly to herself, “how could I not have known……OH SHIT, CHRIS!”

She tore off the small item of clothing, noticing that her whole upper chest and neck were flushed with embarrassment and removing the rest of her running gear, she vowed not to wear it again. Standing in the shower, washing herself down, she could think of nothing but her son, Chris. ‘Had he clearly seen my breasts? He couldn’t have missed my nipples, could he? He would have to have been blind not to? And was he getting erect because he had seen them, or was he truly busting for the loo?’ She wished she had looked there first, but then why would she check out her son’s appendage? She covered her face with her hands, wondering what sort of Pandora’s box she was opening?

Chris was downstairs making breakfast for them both, when Clarissa came down in her dressing gown. The piece of apparel wrapped tightly about her. “I bet that you feel better now? Chris said, whilst looking at her over his coffee cup and sliding across the bar her orange juice.

“What do you mean?” Clarissa said, immediately on the defensive. Her thoughts still in the gutter. She looked down and was pulling at an unseen thread on the gown, just to remove eye contact.

“I mean you looked hot when you came in, I mean really hot!”

“Hot?” Clarissa took him to mean that she looked sexy hot, and her eyes looked up at him blazing.

Chris seemed not to notice and carried on. “Perhaps flustered, is a better word, you looked like you had run 50 miles rather than your usual five. So, I meant that I’m sure you found the shower refreshing and relieving?”

Clarissa looked at her son again, expecting to find a smirk on his face or at least a smile, acknowledging his double entendre, but there was nothing, he just looked genuine and smiled back at her. “Yes, the shower was refreshing. And yes, I needed it. Sorry you had to see me all hot and sweaty, it won’t happen again.”

“Can’t say I noticed,” Chris lied, “I can’t see anything when I first wake up, my eyes don’t focus, besides I had my own concerns, as you noticed.” Chris expanded upon the lie almost effortlessly.

“Oh, oh…,” she said not expecting that reply.

“In fact, it is more me that should apologise, I think I was displaying a little more than I should in front of my mother!”

“Nonsense, I have seen it all before, and your father used to be the same.”

“I’m sure he was, given the same stimulus,” Chris replied knowingly. “Now, eggs, bacon, hash browns, beans, mushrooms, toast and juice, how does that sound?”

“Just what I need inside me right now! Erm….that is…..what I meant was…..” Clarissa was a bright crimson.

“Know just what you mean,” Chris replied without turning round from the cooker, saving Clarissa from her own embarrassment.

Clarissa drank her juice and studied the back of her son, not, she realised very quickly, as a mother appraises her son, with pride and the pleasure of knowing that she had raised a good specimen of a man; though that was there too. No, she was appraising him from the point of view of taking pleasure in his broad back, his narrow waist and his nice tight bottom. His thighs, which broke forth from his short-shorts were a deep golden colour from the sun, were heavily muscled and lacking in hair. Clarissa knew that Chris shaved his legs, she knew he shaved his chest too, now. She was suddenly curious to know if he shaved his pubic hair and his balls?

Within her private thoughts about her son, she had not noticed the heat that had crept up on her. The heat that emanated from her loins. She tingled with heightened senses. As she breathed her nipples once again began to rasp against her dressing gown, the fullness of her breasts pushing open the garment to reveal her cleavage more than she would have liked in front of her son. She had worn this robe many times before, only now was she uncomfortable in it.

Looking down at herself, her increased arousal was fully on display. Her nipples, large thumb-nail sized erections of inflamed nerve endings. Her breasts, upper chest and neck, plus her face were a burning red from her thoughts and her increased passion. As her breathing got more erratic, so her breasts fought to free themselves from the gown once more. She watched as each breath eroded the protection of the garment, until almost one of her nipples had broken free, before she pulled the robe about her again, and re-tightened the cord. Looking up, Chris was now facing her with her plate of food. ‘How long had he been looking at her? How much had he seen of her breasts? Did he realise how turned on his mother was?’ Clarissa’s thoughts were running wild.

“There you go.” Chris leaned across to place her plate upon the counter. His eyes strayed but only a milli-second to look at his mother’s cleavage and swollen nipples, before turning to collect his plate. But Clarissa had seen him look. And knowing that he had seen her in the full flush of her arousal, only spurned on that feeling in her all the more. She felt both excited and disgusted with herself, and set to eating, having thanked Chris, trying her best to remove her thoughts from the gutter in which she had found them.

“So,” said Clarissa, trying to break the silence, that she felt was very awkward and probably all of her making. “What have you got planned for today?”

“Oh, same as ever really. Job hunting, but the months before Uni, are getting shorter, so what success I will have is diminishing by the day. I was going to cut the grass and paint the fence at the back too.”

“Oh, lovely, I must say that I am going to miss having a man about the house.”

“Mum please, with me out of the way, you will be able to bring all of your fellas home!”

“All of my fellas? I don’t know what sort of a woman you think I am young man, but I don’t have any fellas?”

“Then it is about time that you did. A good-looking woman like you. And with me out of the way, it should be all the easier.”

Clarissa looked at her son, to see if there was more to read into what he had said, but he was thumbing through his phone and so she took what he said at face value. Something he thought she would want to hear.

“I’d best get ready for work. Thanks again for breakfast. I feel up to tackling the day now, but I’m glad it’s Friday. Perhaps we can go to the cinema over the weekend? Is there anything you fancy?” As she stood, and leaned over to pick up her plate, Clarissa’s wayward left breast broke free of its bondage and began to tumble out. Feeling it suddenly release itself, Clarissa quickly controlled the situation and turned concealing it back without having flashed so much as a nipple. She quickly looked back at her son. Her face burning all the more, but he was head down studying his phone and appeared not to have noticed any of her recent undoing in his presence.

“Sure,” he said, answering her recent question, “I’ve seen quite a lot I fancy. Hopefully I’ll get chance to see some more later, then we can discuss when you get home?”

‘GOD!’ Thought Clarissa, why does everything he says, appear to me to be an innuendo? “Yes, well do let me know if you see anything you like.” She had said the words, before she could take them back. Trying to put some sort of emphasis on it, but of what sort, she knew not herself?

Clarissa left for her room and pushing the door to, began to select what to wear. Her job was working within the corporate sector of a city bank, so she always dressed smartly, and picked out a nice white blouse and black pleated skirt, that came to just above her knees. She then went to her lingerie draw and pulled out a matching bra and panty set in salmon pink. Hoping that the white blouse was opaque enough to hide her bra. She closed the draw and opened the one next to it and pulled out a fresh packet of black tights, returning to her full-length mirror to get dressed.

Slipping the tie on the robe she removed it all together, and turning, put the rode across her dressing table chair. Returning to the mirror, she was not surprised to see her nipples still fully hard, her quite large areola had been drawn into the creation of her nipple’s erections and crowned her fabulous breasts with pride. Her upper chest, neck and face still burned with her full arousal and from this angle, she could see that her vaginal lips too, were showing that they required some much-needed attention.

Refusing to be drawn, she raised her hands to her long-straight-black hair, that played about her naked shoulders and ran a brush through it several times before tying in a ponytail. Then she giggled as she ran her hair brush through the neatly trimmed but equally black hair on her pubic mound. The hair there was trimmed to be concealed within her smallest and skimpiest bikini bottoms, and that was how she liked it. Hair poking out of panties was a real no-no for her.

Picking up her front fastening bra, she slipped her arms into the straps then leant forwards slightly to capture her two fantastically formed breasts. The nipples, far from protesting at being captured once more, filled her body with the electric shocks of pleasure, with an intensity that only these two erogenous zones could provide. As she fasted the clip between her breasts, Clarissa looked at herself in the mirror and realised that she was biting her bottom lip, and could see her thighs trembling. Her body was reminding her once more of its need. How much longer could she deny it?

Her eyes strayed again to her vaginal lips. Swollen and glistening. The hood of her clitoris was engorged and demanded to be touched. Her hands ran down her rib-cage, feeling the undulation of each bone on her slim body, then across the flat of her stomach, nearing her pubic mound, where They stalled just inside the pubic hair. She turned and picked up her panties, realising that she had also picked up the suspender belt that went with this set of lingerie. She had not worn this set since her husband had bought it for her. Perhaps now……? A playful smile flicked across her lips. She picked up the packet of tights and walked back to her dresser draw, dropping them back in she pulled out a packet of black silk stockings.

Having picked up the suspender belt, she placed it about her waist and clipped it up at the front, spinning it around her body so that it sat the correct way round. Just putting this piece of erotic lingerie on, added to her excitement ten-fold, her fingers, were hard-pressed not to accept the demands of her now very wet vagina, and busied themselves in setting the suspender belt straight on her hips. The salmon-pink piece of apparel, had little red roses embroidered in the panels, a lace frill along the bottom edge, and much smaller lace trimming to all four of the straps. The garment framed her pubic mound as it was designed to do, drawing attention to that very private of areas.

Clarissa picked up the packet of black stockings and drew them out carefully. They were seamed and had an exquisitely decorated stocking top that was slightly elasticated. The fine filigreed lacework at the top had woven flowers and leaves in the design that pleased Clarissa as she gathered the soft and sexy material up in her thumbs and fingers. She raised her leg and slipped her foot into the glistening weave, setting her foot onto the corner of the bed as she slowly drew up the flagrantly erotic, black silk. She pulled the last few inches along her thigh, then fastened the front strap, then the side strap, before repeating the process on her other leg.

Standing once more before the mirror, she adjusted the straps and the height of the stockings until they were level, she then turned about and looked at the back view to ensure the seams were straight. Her rounded peachy bum was equally framed nicely by the suspender straps, something that had not gone unnoticed by her. After a few contortions, she managed to get the stockings to be at the perfect height and to have perfectly straight seams. She faced the mirror once again, and bending forwards, ran her hands from her calves to her thighs. It is a lie that this type of apparel was made by men for the pleasure of men. Clarissa loved to wear stockings, she found them empowering, feeling that she could control men, by allowing them to see as much or as little up her skirt and along her legs as she wanted. Men were after all, in the main, stimulated more by the visual appearance of a woman, than by her personality.

For Clarissa, she knew the pleasure of crossing and uncrossing her legs, whilst wearing such apparel. The rasp of the material encasing her legs as her thighs ran over each other, she often found a distraction. She had sat through many a meeting thinking of nothing else. Just wondering if the men about her could hear the same ‘swish’ as she moved her legs, and whether they wanted to see and feel her stockings too?

Clarissa picked up her panties and bending before the mirror once more, slipped her feet through the small elasticated bands of material, before pulling them up to settle in place, at last removing the temptation from her sight. She sighed as she looked at herself. Even though she was thinking it herself, she was one sexy looking woman. Her nipples were still spoiling for a fight, but were now, hopefully out of harm’s way?

A creak of the floorboards outside of her bedroom, made Clarissa turn quickly. Her door was open a little wider than she had left it, she thought, but could not be sure; but she could now see out into the hallway. Had her son been spying on her? Watching her get dressed, seeing her naked and very nearly touching herself? She quickly flung on her robe and marched to the door to confront her ‘peeping Tom’, to catch Chris in the act. But as she pulled open the door, she was surprised at how disappointed she felt when she did not find him there.

Clarissa was not a prude, for many years she had bathed with her son, when he was young. And she would often dress, with him playing in her room or sleep with him in her bed, when he needed comfort. But as he grew, she felt that these things had become less and less proper. Of course, it was a convention of society. After all, who should say how a mother brought up her child? But like most parents, Clarissa had followed suit and so it had now been many years since Chris had seen her naked, and equally, that she had seen him naked. Although in those years, she hadn’t changed much, other than getting perhaps a little less flabby and a bit more toned. Chris on the other-hand, had changed a lot. He was physically bulky, but with muscle rather than fat. He was tall, quite a bit more than she and he was fully developed in other areas as she had seen early that morning, quite well developed too? More so in all counts, than her ex-husband, who had played only a small role in Chris’ up-bringing as he was always at work.

Clarissa tutted at herself, for allowing her mind to wonder to places that she should not allow it to. Chris had been passed her room, because she could now hear him in his. But his door was properly closed, so perhaps that was what she had heard? He could not have moved that quickly? She turned back into her room and pushed the door to. Removing her robe, she returned to the mirror and slipped on her blouse. “My God woman,” she chastised herself, “you are not only hearing things, you are wishing for things, both of which you should not be thinking about. You were disappointed he wasn’t there weren’t you?” She left her own question unanswered.

Doing up her blouse and then slipping her skirt on, she picked up some heels, and walked to Chris’ door. “OK Chris, I’m off now.” She was surprised with the speed at which he opened the door and took a step back. “Have a good day.”

“You too mum. You look very nice.” He leaned in for a cuddle and a kiss, despite now only being in his boxers.

Clarissa immediately felt the stirrings of his manhood, or thought she did, but all too quickly he had pulled back and turned away. “Text me if you want to meet for lunch,” he threw over his shoulder, then walked into his en-suite.

“I…….. will,” Clarissa called after him. Standing on the landing contemplating what may or may not have just happened. Then with a ‘swish, swish’ of silk stockings, she walked down the stairs and headed off to work.

Her drive was a blur of autopiloted motoring, her reactions instinctive and automatic. Her mind was not on the journey, but on her son. It was fixated and that fixation was on one particular part of his body. And then there was the thoughts that he might have been spying on her as she got dressed? She had been naked long enough. Had turned a number of times to the door. Had nearly touched herself. And of course, had bent over a number of times with her bum to the door, and she knew that with her vagina in its more than heightened sexual state, had he been looking, he would have seen all that she had to offer. “Had to offer?” She suddenly voiced. “Had to offer Chris? Why are you thinking like this? Why are you not appalled that he might have seen you completely naked, sexually aroused and getting dressed in erotic lingerie?”

Being at work was no better for her either, the morning was spent around the boardroom table, or ‘boredroom’ as they liked to call it. The meeting was about business continuity and she could safely say, that she hadn’t listened to a word. She would normally enjoy meetings in this room. The table had a smoked-glass top and she knew that those who sat opposite her could, and quite often did, have the pleasure of watching her cross and uncross her legs. Or on those days when she was in the mood, she would give them a peak of stocking top, on some adventurous days, she had flashed even more than that. But not today, her brain was in turmoil over her thoughts and their content.

Today she sat opposite Andy and Jordan, they were both young lads and although nothing special, she would certainly have given them a display. They had been grateful recipients of it before, and were obviously keen for more, the way their eyes were burning into her. It was certainly not helping her level of arousal, that was for sure. She was reaching the point where something had to give and she had no idea which way things would go?

At 11:00, the meeting had finished, she let everyone leave, on the pretence that she wanted to check her phone. As it happened, Chris had texted asking her to meet him at the local garden centre, at 13:00. She smiled to herself and stood. Checking the back of her skirt for obvious signs of her current state of sexual stimulation. There was indeed a wet-patch on her skirt, from her juices seeping through. The postage-stamp-sized panties that she had on, unsurprisingly had not been able to contain her lubrication. She huffed in annoyance at herself, and turned her skirt, so that the wet patch faced the front, and merely looked like she had spilt her coffee. But anyone close to her, would be able to smell her aroma, her pheromones, her sex scent. She applied some perfume to disguise it.

Clarissa found that as time neared to her lunch-date with her son, her stomach was beginning to churn, and the heat in her loins was re-ignited. She felt like she was going on a first date, not meeting her son at a garden centre for a stale sandwich and vending machine coffee?

At 10 minutes to 13:00, Clarissa nipped to the lady’s washroom, and walked into a cubicle, closing the door. She immediately pulled up her skirt and began to preen herself; adjusting her stocking height, checking that the seams were still straight. A thought flashed into her mind about her panties, should she remove them? She dismissed that immediately, if she was thinking about that, then she was thinking about only one thing, the culmination of which would result in…. She dropped her skirt and walked out of the cubicle and applied fresh lipstick at the mirror, then left.

The garden centre had changed much in the years since she had last been there. It was now much more up-market and seeing Chris waiting for her as she arrived, made her face beam in a smile. It had been a few short hours since she had seen him, but it had felt like years?

“Come on then you,” he said, grabbing her hand and pulling her along, much like he had as a child, steering her into a toy shop. She smiled at the thought, but now her hand tingled, and her body broke out in goose-bumps. Now it felt very different for her. “We’re a little late, I booked it for on the hour. But never mind, sure you can be a little late returning to work?” He said with mischief in his eyes.

“Don’t need to go back. Decided to book the afternoon off, so you have me for as long as you want me…..” Why had she said that? Her head was a maelstrom of thoughts and wishes that made her legs shake in anticipation.

“Great,” he said, well that will make up for your tardiness then, you never could get ready on time.”

“Hey cheeky, just watch it, you are not too old for a smack on the bottom.” She playfully smacked his hard buttock, wincing as it made her hand sting.

Chris laughed at her face, “Not too old maybe, but a darn sight bigger, and a lot harder I think you will find!? Besides you spank me, and I’ll spank you back.” He lifted his had as if to smack her.

“Don’t you dare young man.”

Chris just laughed, leaving Clarissa to wonder why hearing Chris say he was ‘harder’ and thinking of him spanking her, was doing very strange and very sexual things to her. She could feel that her face was flushed and knew that meant her neck and chest would follow suit. She looked away from her son, trying to give her body time to recover, but Chris had abruptly stopped and she walked into him. He turned to face her, “mother?”

“Sorry darling, distracted.”

“Well get your mind back on track, you are here with me, so should not be thinking of anyone else?”

‘If only he knew….’ She thought to herself. “So, why have you brought me here?”

“Because of this.” He pointed at what had been the owners house, last time she had been to this garden centre. Now it was a small restaurant by the looks of things, call the Twig and Spoon.

Chris had approached the door, and was met immediately by an attractive waitress. It was evident by the body language and the relaxed way in which her son talked to the girl, that they knew each other. The girl gave Chris some menus and pointed back into the restaurant. He then turned to her. “Coming?”

Clarissa nodded and then caught up with him at the table where he waited holding the chair. “You sit here.” Chris said, ensuring that he helped her move the chair into the table as she sat down. Her skirt had ridden up her legs in the process, rewarding Chris with a vast expanse of long toned thighs encased in black silk stockings, which at this point, culminated at the hem of her skirt with the black decorated band of the stocking top. Clarissa hadn’t noticed, but as she looked up at her son, smiling at his gentlemanly gesture, she was shocked at how his eyes burned with an intensity she had not often seen. It made her look back down and spotting her skirt’s transgression, she slowly corrected it. But Chris’ eyes had moved onto the valley and mountains of her chest. Standing behind her as he was, he had an uninterrupted view down her blouse, and was held captive by his mother’s beautiful golden cleavage, with large globes of firm flesh either side, supported and uplifted, by her salmon-pink bra. He stood a little too long, and stared with a little too much intensity for propriety’s sake.

“Well, this is nice.” Clarissa said, looking up at her son again. “Are you going to stand behind me all day, or are you going to sit down?”

Chris was jolted out of his pleasurable reverie and sat opposite his mother without a word. “So, how did you manage to find this place? I can’t see you coming into a garden centre that often?”

“Elise, the waitress at the door, told me about it. Said that she had been working here for a while and wondered why she had not seen me here. I told her that I didn’t know, so came over for a coffee, and have been doing that on an off for a while. Just thought you would fancy it too?”

“Oh, I see. And are you….that is, is Elise your….are you seeing Elise?”

“Yes,” said Chris, leaving his mother to ponder for a while before finishing, “I can see her right now, in fact she is coming to us.”

Clarissa reached across the table and slapped her son on the hand, “You know what I mean.”

Chris smiled back. “Stop fishing mother.”

“Right then Chris, will it be your usual or are we going to order from the menu?”

“I’ll have my usual please Lise. And whilst you are here, can I introduce my mother. Mother, this is Elise, we have known each other since school.”

Clarissa smiled at the very attractive girl. “Happy to meet you, Elise. Surprised that we have not met before if you are such good friends?”

“Yes,” Chris said, “a bit strange that one. To be honest we didn’t really get on that much at school, don’t know why. But since we have finished, it has been a different story. But we’ll talk about that later. Would you like to order mother?”

Clarissa placed her order, and with a little bob of thanks, Elise left to move onto another table. Clarissa watched her son’s eyes follow the beautiful girl as she flitted about the restaurant, and felt a wrench in her stomach. She knew instantly what the feeling was, and desperately tried to push it as far down as she could get it. “So, young man, is Elise a possible girlfriend then?”

“Mother!”

“Well, I need to know. That way I know whether to be jealous or not.”

“Jealous?” Chris laughed, “says a woman that looks as good as you look?”

“What about the way I look?” She couldn’t help but feel a little flutter in her stomach at his praising words.

“Well, you…..well I….” Chris found himself a little tongue-tied and flustered and he coloured in embarrassment. Clarissa waited for him to finish, knowingly increasing his torment with the awkwardness of the silence. “Well, I think..” Chris stumbled on, “I think that you look very good for your… a….for…as much as…”

“OK,” Clarissa stepped in, laughing. “I’ll stop your torment there, before you say something that I might regret, like, ‘you look good for your age’, or ‘as much as a son can appreciate how his mother looks’, or something like that.”

Chris looked guilty, knowing that that was exactly what he was going to say, but also knowing that the reason he was stumbling over his words was because he was thinking something completely different.

Clarissa pushed on. “Well, I will take it as a compliment anyway, as they are rather few and far between, and I’m sure that that was what you intended?”

“It was mum, really. God, I think you are a very attractive woman, not just today, but every day. Not just with what you are wearing now, but however you dress. I think you are very beautiful, and I think what I was trying to say was….”

Clarissa’s heart was missing beats as she waited for Chris to finish. Her stomach was in knots and once again the burning in her loins had re-ignited. “Yes, go on…” She looked penetratingly into his eyes as he struggled to carry on. But he had already said enough to ruin her appetite; for food anyway, and to have destroyed her composure. She found herself fidgeting, crossing and uncrossing her legs, hearing and feeling the erotic rasping of the silk upon her thighs. Her breathing had become rather ragged and her increasing arousal was beginning to worry her, she felt at any time she might suddenly disgrace herself in front of the many people in the restaurant, and worse, her son.

She knew she was wet, more than wet; had followed her son’s eyes numerous times as they wandered to her breasts, she was sure that her nipples were more than making themselves known, and was also sure that he had noticed. Had she covered them with her hands, she knew the large erections would still be visible! To top that her décolletage, neck and face were in full flush. Her body had pulled out all the stops in showing her son all of the signs of her arousal. But Chris seemed not to notice, so engrossed was he in trying to get the right words out.

“So,” Clarissa spoke again, her voice suddenly low, quiet and seductive, with no small amount of tremble in it, “what is it you are trying to get out?”

Chris’ eyes shot to hers, “What I am trying to say, is that with dad gone, and you being such a catch, well, I can’t understand why you haven’t found someone. And for you to say that compliments are few and far between is just not true. Men may not come up to you and say you are a very beautiful woman, but I’ve seen how they ‘eye’ you up and I’m sure you have too.”

Clarissa’s delight at Chris’ previous words came crashing down around her. “Sorry?”

“I said…”

“I know what you said. Do you mean why haven’t I replaced your father with someone else? Did it not occur to you that I was thinking of you, protecting you?” Clarissa seemed a little hurt and that was exactly what Chris had been trying to avoid.

“But that is my point. And another reason why you are such a wonderful person and mother. You do so much, so much for other people, even for me, but when do you stop and think about you? I want you to consider yourself for once. I want you to go and get what you want and need. Don’t consider anything but what you need.” He picked up her hand and held it tightly. “After all, you deserve it. All those years looking after me, pretty much on your own, I know how useless dad was. And I know how children can interfere with your love-life. Now you must grab what you want, before it passes you by. So, let’s start right now um, what is it that you want at this very moment?”

Clarissa squeezed his hand and looked into his deep green eyes. They were his father’s eyes, but without the coldness. They showed so much more compassion, love and something that made her catch her breath. Should she, could she tell him what she really wanted, what she really needed? Did he not already know? Was he not just asking her to acquiesce to her feelings for him? She scooted forwards, knees together and felt his legs on either side of hers, underneath the small dining table. “Chris……I…….I…..simply want……y..”

“Here we are then. Your drinks will be along in a minute. Can I get you any condiments?” Elise put the food upon the table, completely and obliviously destroying the moment. Is there anything else that I can get you?” Clarissa noted the young girls’ eyes were on Chris when she said that, and he understood what she meant too, he suddenly flushed.

“I have all I want right here thank you.” Clarissa tried to emphasise the true meaning of her words, hoping that it would bring her conversation back on track, but it appeared the moment had gone.

“I think I’m missing your acceptance of my invitation to go to the cinema tomorrow night?” Chris said rather smoothly.

Elise smiled. “All things come to he who waits Chris. But if you insist in getting an answer now, well then, it is yes, of course it is yes.”

“Great, I’ll pick you up at six-thirty. We’ll go onto a club afterwards, so wear something a little dressy.”

“Hey, did you think I was going to turn up in raggedy jeans on our first date?” Her eyes were smiling.

“Of course not, but had I not told you, you would have said that I should have. So, I couldn’t win either way, could I?!”

“That is correct and a woman’s prerogative. Now I must get on with my job, or you’ll get me fired.” Elise flitted away to clear away a few plates and cutlery from the table next to them. With her back to Chris, his eyes covered every inch of her lithe frame, her long legs in black tights, her black skirt, her little black apron, and her white blouse. But he focused more on certain parts of her. Her lovely firm-rounded bum. The shape that her breasts made within the blouse, the outline of the white bra beneath, holding those succulent orbs firm, but not as firm as his hands, were he to get his way…..

“She is a lovely looking girl isn’t she Chris?”

“Yes, I think she is too. Now, what were you saying before she interrupted us. ‘You simply want…?'”

“No matter darling, no matter.”

“Now come on, you can’t start to say something and leave me hanging. You have to say!”

“No really.”

“Mum! Come on. What were you going to say?”

“Chris I was going to say that I simply want you to be happy, and that would make me happy.”

“Oh,” he said, seemingly disappointed. “Oh.”

“Why, what did you think I was going to say?” Clarissa’s eyes penetrated his, begging for him to say the right thing, the only thing that she really wanted to hear at this very moment.

“Well, I……” He picked up his mother’s hand once more. “Making me happy is not really what I meant. How does that equate to you doing something for you?”

“If we, did it together…” She blurted out.

“Hey…. We always do things together. Do you think if I go out with Elise that will stop?”

“Of course not Chris, that is not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”

“Come on, our food is getting cold, we can discuss this more tonight.”

“Sure.” Though he looked anything but.

When they got home, it was late afternoon. “Well, that was a fabulous idea Chris and thank you. I really enjoyed myself.”

“My pleasure. Now I just have to nip out to the shops, and then catch up with some of the boys for a drink, so might not be back until late, as we have had a large lunch, I won’t need anything for tea.”

“That’s ok,” Clarissa said, feeling emotionally drained, and both pleased and disappointed that he had forgotten that they were supposed to be discussing what she had meant over lunch.

“I need a quick shower before I got out though.” Chris said.

The idea appealed to Clarissa too, she had been in a constant state of heat since this morning and felt that she needed to try and cleans her body, not only of the smell of her sex, but the thought of it too. “You know, that is a great idea,” she said without really thinking, “I think I’ll join you.”

“What?” Said Chris with a rather quizzical, comical look on his face. “In coming out with me and the boys, or in joining me in the shower?”

“No! No, you know I didn’t mean that!” I didn’t mean that at all!” In truth, she hadn’t meant that. But now the thought was there, she couldn’t get it out of her head.

Chris smirked at her, “Was only kidding mum, I like messing with you. You should see your face.”

“I meant I will have a shower too.” She said unnecessarily. Wondering now if her face was portraying something else. That maybe it was telling the truth of the matter, as she knew without looking, that her nipples and blushing skin would be. She went on with the lie. “That lovely meal and wine has made me very sleepy; I need to occupy myself otherwise I will be nodding off.”

“OK, well I will probably be gone when you come out, and you may well be asleep when I get back. So, good night.” He leaned in close for a kiss, touching her lips with his in a gossamer touch, holding it she felt, for just a few moments longer than perhaps propriety would dictate. But propriety wasn’t there watching, so she did not pull away, accepting half of the blame for maintaining the kiss. Clarissa was fully flushed with her immediate arousal level, as it instantly peaked. Her body broke out in goose-bumps, the two largest ones, being the nipples on her thrusting breasts, taut enough that they could have taken someone’s eye out! A little squeal of delight escaped her cherry lips as the contact was finally broken. Her eyes flicked to his lips as he licked them, no doubt tasting her.

She raised her hand and cupped his face, smiling at him, rather nervously, the tension of the moment was palpable, her body so incredibly charged with arousal that were a single erogenous zone touched, brushed, caressed or licked; she would have crashed head-long into an orgasm, the like of which she had not had for many many months, if ever.

Instead, she ran her thumb, over his lower lip, saying, “We wouldn’t…..” she was almost panting, “want you going out to see your friends, with your mother’s lipstick upon your lips now, would we?” Her voice had dropped a few octaves and was breathy and seductive.

“Mum,” Chris said, his voice faltering a little and breaking as he went on, “I said I was going for a shower? Besides, if the boys spotted it, I would just tell them that I was kissed by a beautiful woman.”

Clarissa laughed “Christopher!”

“Why not? It’s true. You really shouldn’t put yourself down. Anyway,” he looked more than a little sheepish, “I need to get on and have that shower before…..” He turned away from her.

“Before what?” Clarissa breathed, her eyes flicking down her son’s body as it was in profile. Her expectation was rewarded, when she got to his crotch, making her gasp a little. The bulge that was there, was seemingly as far removed from restful repose as possible. And she knew now without doubt, that she had induced it, or at the least, thoughts of her had induced it. And any minute she expected it to tear though his light cotton trousers. The air was was caught in her chest, she couldn’t breathe or speak, or take her eyes off of the bulge.

“Before I……..’m, late!” He said, looking embarrassed and quickly slipping into his room, pushing the door to and ending the encounter. Leaving Clarissa standing there with her mouth open.

‘What?’ Her brained screamed at her. ‘My God, so what I witnessed this morning was……he must have only……. He was only semi…… hard…..because that was…….just……?’ She walked into her room and closed the door leaning on it. She realised that her mouth was still open and closed it with a snap. “God,” she said quietly, “I need that shower, and it had better be a cold one.” She felt her body tingling all over, her legs were shaking, the heat emanating from her groin was intense and her nipples were painful in their erection. “Maybe a freezing one would be better. That boy has got you properly hot under the collar!”

She unsteadily moved to the bed and sat down, removing her 4-inch heels. Then stood and reached behind her to undo the button on her skirt, and glided down the zip. She let the skirt fall to the floor and started undoing the buttons on her blouse. With them all undone, she removed her top and bent to retrieve her skirt, stepping out of it first. As she bent, she suddenly thought again about that morning when she got dressed; had Chris been at her door, had he been watching her? Had he seen her naked? Seen her body’s arousal, the stockings her nearly giving in to herself?

“Stop it!” she abruptly said, and slipping her thumbs into her skimpy knickers, she glided them down, over the suspender straps and down her silken thighs. Passed her knees, she dropped them to the floor and stepped out of them. Her scent was heavy in the air, and as she picked up her panties, she could smell herself all the more. She must have been broadcasting to all, that she was aroused, you would have to have been wearing a gas-mask, not to have been affected by her pheromonal scent. She unclipped her bra and released her firm, ample breasts. She looked down at them, not at all surprised that the golden, well rounded orbs, were still rising and falling erratically with each breath. Nor was she surprised that her nipples were large enough and firm enough to hang coat-hooks from. Her hands moved to them slowly, they needed to be touched, caressed. But she stopped herself and instead, unclipped each stocking and rolled them down her legs, removing them from her feet, before unclipping the suspender belt and standing before her mirror, resplendently and unequivocally naked, showing every outward manifestation of her body’s excitement.

As she watched, a dew-drop of her vaginal lubrication coalesced upon her swollen lips. “Clarissa, you have to stop this!” She admonished herself and turned, walking to her en suite and to the shower. Running the water for the minimal of time, she stepped into the cold stream. Disappointingly for her, far from having the cleansing, purifying effect that she’d hoped. It just seemed to excite her body all the more, particularly as it played upon her nipples. She turned her back to the jets, unable to trust herself, or her hands to do anything more that wash. She knew that a single touch on her breasts, her inner thigh, her vagina, or for that matter, any part of her body, would cause an inevitable and runaway reaction. Hell, her whole body felt like an erogenous zone!

She decided the safest option was just to let the water do its work and to do no more than pour body-wash across her shoulders so that the pin-pricks of water, would agitate it into suds, to cleans her of those feelings internally and externally. She knew though, that all she was being, was naïve.

Having stayed in the steaming jets of water, for what seemed an age. Clarissa turned the shower off and stepped outside to dry herself off, paying particular attention, that she did not touch any of her hypersensitive areas. Much easier than it sounds. She slipped on her robe and moved into the bedroom, as she passed her window she looked out and could see that Chris’ car was no-longer there. He must have gone.

Picking up her clothes from her bed, she put them into the wash. Holding her breath as she handled her panties. She knew that the smell of her sex, that her soaked panties were broadcasting, would only start her off again, and did not want that to happen. She had after all, pretty much abstained from sex since her husband had left. In fact, as things weren’t great towards the end anyway, she realised she had probably not had any sex in nearly 28 months. The thought upset her a little. She loved sex; she was a very sexual person. But the appeal of satisfying herself was not a top priority. In fact, she could state that other than a few fumbling’s, where her husband had aroused her, but then had been too drunk to satisfy her, she had not really masturbated before. Of course, she had done it for him, but without him there as a witness, she doubted her ability to create and enjoy an orgasm in herself. And if you were doing it for someone else, it wasn’t really masturbation was it?

She walked to her wardrobe and opening the door, considered what to wear. The move was her undoing. As she considered putting on just a t-shirt, no bra and some knickers and loose jogging bottoms, her eyes fell upon the large red bag on the bottom shelf. She knew what was in the bag, yet still she pulled it out. It was relatively heavy, but she managed it without too much effort. Swinging it up onto her bed. She grasped the zip and slowly unzipped the bag.

As she pulled apart each side of the bag, she found herself smiling, and also remembering the time that she had been asked to put the thing to use. An eight-inch erect cock sprang into her view. It looked very realistic, was modelled on a circumcised penis, had a large bulbous head, had veins down the shaft, which she knew from experience, caused delightful sensations. The cock was attached to a large set of balls and an abdomen and top portion of a pair of thighs. What she was looking at was a sex doll. Or a portion of one. It was moulded in latex, but the feel of the pseudo flesh, was very real; particularly the erect cock, the ever-erect cock. In truth though, it was a poor facsimile of a male body, lacking all of the warmth and pulsating life of a real cock.

She remembered back to when her husband had first bought it, ostensibly for her. ‘For the times that I am not here, but you are thinking of me.’ He had said. But whilst that may have been true too, he had quickly exposed the true nature of what he wanted.

The synthetic body on first appearance, could only really be used in the one position, that is with her on top. But her husband had been quick to point out the suction cups on the bottom of the moulded man and had then positioned it on the full-length mirror. ‘It will look like you are being taken by two men!’ He had said in his excitement. ‘You can either suck it off, whilst I’m fucking you, or you can fuck it, whilst I’m fucking your mouth, it will be great! Let’s try it now, put on some sexy lingerie and I’ll have a shower, then you can be prepared to be entered by two men! I’ll set up the camera and film it too!’

She could see that he already had an erection, thinking about it. “So that is your fantasy, is it? To have me taken by other men as you watch?” She had to admit the thought was not completely without interest for her.

“No,” he had said coyly. “I just want us to enjoy it.”

“Ok,” Clarissa had said, get your shower and I’ll pick out some things to wear, then have a shower too.”

When she appeared from the shower, having taken her lingerie in and having put it on, it was like she had entered onto a film set. A porn film set. “My God! You weren’t kidding about filming me were you, where have all these cameras come from?”

He had smiled at her and said, “There are only four, and they are mine.”

She knew it was a lie, but was actually caught up in the whole thing and starting to get very aroused. One camera was on a tri-pod close to the mirror, and was no-doubt there to view the penetration of her vagina. One was set up at waist height, near to where her face would be as she accepted her husband’s cock in her mouth. Another was on the floor looking upwards, this would catch both of the penetrations of her body. The last, her husband was holding.

He was naked and his cock was bouncing in its ridged excitement. She could see a dew-drop of pre-come upon it and could tell that he was really turned on by all this. To be fair, her vagina was equally showing her level of excitement. She knew the lips were swollen and puffy, she knew she was already wet, and if her nipples were anything to go by, then her clitoris would also have been in a turgid state of erection too.”

“Now,” her husband panted, “I want you to imagine that I am sitting over there in the chair, that I have brought home with me two men from my office, neither of whom you know. And I have ordered you to fuck them both and suck them both. I want you to protest, at being abused, but then begin to acquiesce and in the end, totally give in to the abuse of both cocks. Now, let’s start with this.”

He started to fondle her breast through her bra, her nipple accepting the pleasure immediately and transmitting that to her brain. She groaned as the camera and his hand played about her breast. “Protest.” He panted, “you don’t want this remember.”

“What are you doing?” She said, “No, no, only my husband can…… Stephen, make him stop, don’t let him touch me…..” The hand and the camera had made their way across the flat plane of her stomach, and had reached the frilly lace of her suspender belt. Her black stockings, could be seen covering her long legs and toned thighs, but it was where the hand had wondered to that interested both the camera and her specifically.

After a couple of rubs upon the outside of her panties as they closely moulded about her vaginal lips, the fingers pushed her panties to one side. She groaned again, then once more took up the acting. “No, stop, I don’t want you to touch me there, stop please. Stephen, Stephen! Stop them, I don’t want…….Ohhhhhh Stephen…please…. No, don’t do that!”

Her husband had slipped a finger passed her ridiculously small panties and was now running it up and down her wet folds of coral flesh, every now and then rubbing her clitoris before teasingly moving his finger back down towards her needy hole. He slid a finger easily inside her, and pumped her vagina a few times, following all of his manipulations closely with the camera. It picked up all of the wet, sexual squelching sounds as he inserted another finger, fucking her with two for a little, before removing them and raising them to her mouth, he forced them in. “Suck them dry.” He ordered, “remove all of your juices.” Clarissa did as she was told.

Her husband, then forced her to bend over and pushed her backwards. He lent across her back and tore at the G-string of her little panties, breaking the fragile material easily. The camera between her legs, upon the floor, captured the small triangle of material, as it slipped down her parted thighs, getting snagged on one leg by the suspender clip. A string of glutinous vaginal juices linked her puffy, pink lips to the wet panties leaving a little snail trail of wetness on her inner thigh, before the panties eventually fell, as she was shunted backwards further. The string of sex lubrication, became a silken beaded thread as her state of arousal, increased the flow.

With her panties no-longer obstructing the way to her wet haven, her husband pushed her back roughly. Then, putting the camera that he held, to one side, he brought both of her arms up along her back and held them there by her wrists, as he edged her back onto the latex erection. It had been set at exactly the right height, and his aim as he pushed Clarissa backwards, was perfect.

“Ohhhhhhnooooooo, please…..please don’t penetrate me! Stephen,” she whimpered, continuing on with their little game. “My pussy is for you Stephen, not these strange men……please stop them fro……..m, ooohhh fuck!” The large, bulbous head, split apart her succulent lips and was guided into her valley, by her thighs and her positioning. At the entrance to her vagina, it touched upon her vaginal sphincter, appearing to pause for a second, before pushing through her lubricated, gripping flesh, with ease, entering her and sliding deeply in. From that point on, for Clarissa, the acting was over. “OOOHHH FUCK, oh Stephen, OOohhhh that feels good, oh I think…..” She pushed herself backwards her succulent, grasping lips, eager to take all of the erection. Her bum cheeks touched the pseudo man, and she felt its balls bang into her clitoris.

The cock had fully expanded her vagina as it slid in, and had sent a myriad of pleasurable senses permeating through her frame. She began shaking at the intensity. Her excitement was already at its peak and she couldn’t help but allow herself to crash upon those rocks. “Ohhh God, oh God, yes, oh fuck yes.” She rocked forwards, removing the erection almost completely, before pushing hard back onto it. “Oh, fuck me, fuck me. Yes, GOD you’re big, ohhh shit…..I’m…..I’m……COMING!” She was incredulous, never before had she come so quickly, with no more than a few thrusts upon the latex cock and her cunt was gushing.

Her orgasm fell upon her from a great height. Her legs just about collapsed, and had her husband not been holding her, she would have fallen to the floor. Instead, she pushed harder against the delirious abuse that she was receiving from the latex cock and screamed her pleasure. “FUCK, OH FUCKFUCKFUCK! Yes, that’s good, fuck me, push that cock in, CHRIST! I think I’m…..I’m going to….I’m OHHHHHH Stephen this is…..pure, delight….I’m going to…….OH YES, YES, YES!” She was now fucking the cock with delirium; the sexual wet sounds of her vagina’s pleasure were loud in her husband’s ears. Her juices were dribbling from her, only missing the camera by a few centimetres.

Her husband could wait no-longer, with his wife entering her second orgasm in quick succession, his naked cock was bouncing before her panting screaming mouth and he aimed to use it for another purpose. His cock sprang up, hitting Clarissa on the chin. “Suck it bitch!” He said in a gruff voice. “I know you love sucking cock, your husband told us. So, suck this like your life depended on it.” He pulled her jaw open and fed his cock in. Clarissa was already beside herself as her second orgasm took its toll on her body. She dribbled from her mouth as the cock entered her throat, making her gag. But her husband merely picked up the camera and filmed himself, pulling out, then thrusting back in again. Each time, forcing his cock further down her throat. The gagging eased as he shouted, “Take it, take it all bitch.”

Clarissa orgasmed again, or maybe just continued on with her second one, she couldn’t tell. But her body spasmed and shook. Her senses, like her vagina and mouth were being assaulted. She panted in breaths between penetrations, screaming and squealing as best she could, with a throatful of cock. She had never been this turned on before. She had never been fucked by two cocks before. The pleasures of her flesh were so intense, she felt light headed. Every ridge, every vein, every touch upon her cervix, as she mounted the cock again and again, kept her on the edge. Her husband’s cock pulsing and punishing her throat, was an, until this point, unconceived delight. She was dribbling from both ends in her excitement, and was loving every minute of this new experience.

Her husband too, had dispensed with the play-acting and was now concentrating on the camerawork. Filming her rose coloured lips as they slid along his cock, taking all of him in. Her tongue playing about the base of his shaft and head as he withdrew. Her freshly applied lipstick, left a ‘tide-mark’ at the base of his cock, evidence that she had swallowed all of him.

Clarissa pulled her hands free of him and grasped a pendulous breast as it swayed beneath her, her nipples were crying out for attention and she pulled and squeezed upon the nubs of erectile tissue, causing herself to moan all the more. Her body was already glistening in sweat from the effort of this ‘non-consensual’ sex. And she was loving it. She pulled her lips from her husband’s cock, a string of her saliva, mixed with his pre-come still attached to her lips as she looked up at him and panted, “Fuck me Stephen, fill my cunt with your sperm, just like the other guy has, make me come three times too, as I suck him off.” She pulled off of the latex cock and turned around, offering her fantastic bum to Stephen, then slid her rose coloured lips about the wet bulbous cock. Her tongue playing about the head, for the pleasure of the camera and herself. She felt her lips being parted as her husband penetrated her gaping vagina and a deep moan escaped her as he rammed home, forcing her onto the cock before her which slipped easily down her throat. Clarissa loved tasting her own juices and took to sucking on the latex cock with relish.

For Clarissa, there was no replacement for a real cock. She loved the heat, the pulsing the sheer turgid life of a real cock. She loved the feel of being penetrated and fucked. But, having recently taken the latex phallus, she had to admit that her husband’s cock lacked size and girth. Though a turn on, and she could already feel herself rising to another orgasm, she felt that was more down to the fantasy they were enacting, rather than the actual pleasure she was receiving that very moment, from her husband’s cock. “Yes, yes, that’s better, oh a latex cock is one thing, but a real one is so much better. “Fuck me, fuck me as my husband watches, make him envious that it is you inside me, making me come again……..oohhh….and……again…..oh yes, oh yes, it’s happening again! OH, fuck me both of you, make me come.” She slid her mouth back over the cock before her and watching herself closely in the mirror, sucking it slowly and loudly into her mouth, panting in her excitement.

She grasped a swaying breast and pinched on the nipple once more, then shook as the explosion upon her senses made her cry out. “MmMmmm.. ohhhhh.. waahhhh….huuuhhhh fuwwww.” She pulled off of the cock to speak, “Ohhh shit, oh shit!” Her hand had left her breast and had dived between her legs, expertly applying more pleasure to her clitoris, her orgasm was long and exhausting, her legs were shaking so badly that her husband reached beneath her to support her as his seed spurted forth, crashing into her cervix. “YESSSS! GODDDD STEPHEN, YES! Fill me with your sperm. Jesus, oh fuck, ohhhhhhh!”

She pushed back hard against him, concentrating on squeezing every last drop of come from his cock by tightening her vaginal muscles. “Ummmmm that was good,” she panted, coming down from her first ever, double penetration, knowing that she would want that again, and a small part of her thinking would Stephen work up enough courage to ask her to do it for real?

She wondered herself, whether she would have the courage to tell him that she now realised, that was exactly what she wanted too. She had never been so turned on before, and the feel of having two different cocks inside her, even if one of them was not real, was astonishingly good.

Clarissa was smiling as she remembered that first double penetration and as she looked at the latex cock, standing proud in the bag, she was reminded that fantasies are just that. Her husband had never asked if she would take two real men, and had become increasingly annoyed at how quickly her orgasms manifested and how intense they were, whenever he suggested that they do a similar thing, with the latex man. He quickly realised, by comparison, that one on one sex did not seem to hold the same intensity for her any more.

More and more, her husband became envious of a fantasy that he had started, being jealous of the men that his wife was having sex with in her head, as she pounded upon the sex toy. Only enjoying his cock, because she visualised someone else in his place. Not long after he had started the threesome playing, he had stopped asking her to do it. And became irritated when she was then instigating it. It was the beginning of the end for them both, he had decided to find someone else, no-doubt wishing that she would condescend to make love to him with her; male, female, female. It was not completely without appeal to Clarissa. But the thought of sharing her husband with the woman that took him away, was just not palatable.

Clarissa lifted the 20 percent facsimile of a man out of the bag, putting in on her bed. In her head, she had convinced herself that she was only going to clean it, as it had been stuck in her wardrobe for some time. She got some sanitising wipes from her bathroom and went all over the latex form. Of course, leaving the cock to last. And so, to her undoing. As soon as she grasped the cock, the tingle in her body, that had been there since she woke that morning; there seemingly for months, was back. It was back, but with a vengeance. She had slowly run her hand over the entire eight inches cleansing it. But as she looked at her hand with her fingers so naturally grasping the stiff member, she realised how much she had missed the feeling of power that she got from wanking a man. The power of being in control, the power of whether to make him come, or hold him at the edge, the power of holding something that pulsated, that responded that ejaculated all as a result of her touch.

Having cleaned the toy, she went back into the bathroom and threw away the wipes, then returned to her dresser, taking out another suspender belt and set of stockings. She put these on, rubbing her hands along her thighs and thrilling at the touch. She was close. The culmination of what had occurred that day, was now dictating her moves, she could not resist, even though she felt she wanted to, in was inevitable that she climbed upon the bed. It was inevitable that she straddled the sex toy. It was what she needed, as she lowered herself upon the ever erect, ever giving latex cock, stopping as the head nuzzled up against her swollen, moist lips.

She looked up, subconsciously she knew why. Upon her bedside cabinet, was a picture of her son, it had been taken that year, whilst they were on holiday. He was naked, to the waist, with only a small pair of shorts on. All of his body glowed in the fullness of youth. He was tanned, taut, muscular and despite herself appealing. His smile endearing, his eyes piercing her soul. She loved the picture. And as she closed her eyes, the image of that, his tented erections, her memories of the threesome sex with her husband, it was no wonder that as she lowered herself slowly onto the bulbous head of the circumcised phallus, she orgasmed without even being fully penetrated.

“Chris! OOOOhhhhhhCHRIS!” She cried out, her eyes tightly shut, “What are you doing, no, no you mustn’t, oohhhhhmy God, you mustn’t. UUUUUmmmmmmmmfuck oh fuck, oooooHHHHFUCK, CHRISSSSS! No pleaAAAAASEEEE!” Her vaginal lips slid easily over the head as it forced its way into her. She had her hands upon her stocking covered thighs and was rubbing them along the silken material. God how she loved the feel of stockings. Her orgasm just kept coming. How could it not? She had abstained for too long, her body needed this, it had been storing it up. She had in point of fact been ‘edging’ herself for many months, that today, was her reward or her punishment; release! But release at what cost? As her body shuddered and spasmed, she called out again. “Chris, please don’t, please this is wronggg. I’mmmm…..ohhhh, ummmmmmmm huh, huh, FUCK YES, YES OOOOHHHCHRIS you feel soooo gooooood! FUCK me, quickly fuck me, fill me with your cock!” She slid down the phallus in one long pleasurable glide. Her thighs had lost their strength, the muscles quivering wrecks of their former selves. She landed upon the body of the male form; the cock completely engulfed within her. Her chest was heaving in the efforts of her orgasm, which had still not quit.

As she leaned forwards, her hands upon the bed, almost on all fours, the pressure upon her tightly gripping vagina and very swollen clitoris, was at an intensity that went beyond her very first use of this toy with her husband. Due perhaps to the visualisation of the man whose cock she was sitting upon? The large throbbing phallus of her son? She cried out again and again, as her body would not stop the intensely pleasurable spasms of orgasm. Her thighs gripping together her breasts swinging, her arms shaking. There was not a single centimetre of her being that was not involved in what was wracking through her frame, and still it went on. The illicitness of what she was doing, both in her self pleasure and the object of that pleasure, a heady combination. Her mouth was wide open as she gasped in great lungsful of air, she dribbled from her mouth, strings of saliva, as her control left her. The quivering, jerking muscles of her body, were the physical manifestations of her pleasure. Her mind and what went on there was giving four times the pleasure that her body was receiving, as it provoked her with thoughts about her son. Lewd thoughts, inappropriate thoughts, but by God excitingly lustful thoughts of him taking her, filling her cunt with his cock, and then his cock filling her with his seed. His pulsing phallus ejaculating deeply within her again and again, as she continued in her posting, she fantasised that she had taken him over the edge too.

For Clarissa, the lights went out. She collapsed upon her legs, her face upon the duvet, her pussy still full of uncompromising erection. She had passed out with the pure pleasure she was receiving, the exertion, the assault upon her being. The sheer overload of stimuli.

Chris’ evening had not gone well. He was in fact supposed to be meeting a girl that he had met online, while gaming. He had not wanted to admit to his mum that he was on a blind date. In fact, he hadn’t told anyone the truth. But as it turned out, it didn’t matter, because she didn’t turn up anyway; he had been stood up. After an hour of waiting, he gave in. To be fair, he wasn’t overly bothered as he had a date with Elise tomorrow night, something he had not had in place at the time of arranging to meet this girl. So apart from a little waste of time, he was ok about it.

By eight, he was back home. He expected his mum to be watching the television, but the lights were out downstairs, so he went up to her room. Her door was closed, so he knocked, thinking it was way too early for her to be asleep, she was either reading or resting. “Hello mum, I’m back early, you’re not asleep, are you? There was no answer, so, assuming she was in the loo, or maybe only just getting round to her shower; he strode into his room. He took a while tidying up his clothes, from where he had dumped them on his bed, and then he changed into some shorts and a t-shirt. Chris then went back to his mother’s bedroom door and knocked again. “Getting a cup of tea mum, do you want one?” There was still no answer. “Mum, are you OK?” There was still no answer, and Chris was now becoming a little anxious. He grasped the door knob and turning it, push the door gently open, saying, “I did knock, but didn’t……MUM!”

Chris saw his mother collapsed on the bed. His first thought was how she had managed to get into that position, and that maybe she had fallen asleep like it? But as he approached the bed, he was less and less certain that she had just fallen asleep and more concerned that something was wrong. She was semi-naked for one thing, which was unusual for him to see, she wore a suspender belt and stockings, and not much else? Perhaps this had happened shortly after he had gone out, and whilst she was changing for her shower. He knew she had been wearing stockings that day. But then her hair was still slightly damp at the ends, evidence that she had had a shower. So, she must have been getting dressed again? He felt her neck, searching for her carotid, comforted that her body was warm, very warm in fact. Beneath his fingers, he felt her pulse, strong, but he felt it was racing a little. He breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps she had just fainted? “Thank God,” he said out loud, his voice seeming to rouse his mother a little, making her murmur. “Mum, you ok mum?”

Clarissa was floating on a tide of utter pleasure and emotion. It was a true ‘out of body’ experience for her. She had been close, with her husband that night he had introduced his fantasy to her, but tonight, thoughts about that moment and about her son’s wayward appendage, and the way his eyes often looked at her, had taken her to that place. She could still feel the erection inside her, only now it was pulsing. She could still feel the heat of the sperm, that had been ejaculated into her, she could feel the solid, muscular chest of her son, beneath her hands as she rose and fell upon him. “Ohh Chris,” she said in a dreamy voice, tinged with the lust of her fantasy. “OoooohhhhChris, that was so good, so…..so…..fucking good. You have fucked me to the point……..the point of…….” She went quiet again as her brain tried to assimilate the experience and failed.

On hearing her speak, Chris took a step backwards, not sure what he had heard, not sure what his next move should be? His mother’s naked body, and the fact that she was wearing stockings, was beginning to have completely the wrong effect upon him, making it even more difficult to make a decision. He slipped his arm across her back and under her arm, doing likewise with her nearside, and lifted her torso up and back, bringing her into a seated position. He could not help his eyes travelling to her breasts, the site of which made him gasp. The firm, ripe orbs of golden flesh looked enticing, exciting and extremely erotic. The nipples upon them, as he had seen before were erect, and seemed to be permanently so. He hooked one of her arms across his shoulder and taking a last look at her breasts, slipped a hand between her calf and thigh, so that he could lift her and set her back on the bed. He could not help but smell her, she smelled wonderful, intoxicating, enticingly earthly. It was at that point, that he noticed she was sitting on something. And that she was not wearing any panties either. This was getting more than a little awkward. Finding his mother in a state of undress, wearing some of his favourite apparel was inducing him to linger over the process of placing on the bed. The feel of her skin on his finger-tips was causing his whole body to tingle. But then he thought, ‘what if she were to come to now?’ With her in his arms, naked, and him sporting the hardest erection he had had for a while, there was only one conclusion she would draw?

He tried lifting her and was greeted by her protests, “No, no, don’t take him out. I’m not done yet….” His mother’s head lolled about, lacking all control. Her dead-weight surprised him at how difficult it was to control. With a wet slurping sound, his mother was free of what she was sitting on, and he laid her upon the bed; only now comprehending the whole thing. Between her legs, which were slightly parted, he could see the object of his mother’s pleasure and the reason she was currently blacked out. His eyes were riveted to the erect phallus as it rose between her parted thighs. It glistened wetly, in proud testament to where it had been and what it had done. Not too far removed, his mother’s pussy gaped. Looking raw against the golden skin of her upper thighs, raw, swollen and wet, so very wet!

There was no denying what had happened, what his mother had been doing. No taking back what he had seen, what he was seeing now. His erection pulsed in his shorts and he pushed on it, as if trying to make it go away, but only making it bounce back all the more. Despite his obvious embarrassment at seeing his mother naked. How could he not be aroused? Her black, long hair was spilled out halo-like about her pillow, her magnificent breasts rose and fell, slightly less frantically, but never-the-less, capturing his eyes and drawing them to their erect toppings. Her small mound of pubic hair, neatly trimmed, leaving her lips and vagina fully exposed to him. And those stockings, oh why was she wearing stockings, he could never resist those? He witnessed his hand begin to stray towards her breast, his mouth was dry, he had not taken a breath in a while, his cock had managed to slip down the leg of his loose-fitting shorts and was poking out.

Clarissa was still in a daze. She felt her body being manipulated and began to protest again. Suddenly the feeling of pleasure was gone, and the euphoria she felt earlier, had gone with it. “Chris, Chris,” she called out, don’t go, do me again, ohhhhh….do me…..again.

As Chris looked at his mother, his hand had slid onto her breast cupping the large handful of firm flesh, his thumb running circles around the erect nipple, making it even harder, and drawing out a long deep moan from his mother. He could see her eyes start to flicker open, and knew he could not stay in the room a moment longer, for fear of embarrassing them both. Could certainly not be found by his mother, caressing her breast and playing with her nipple. He left quickly, pulling the door to, behind him.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Clarissa’s senses began to return. Her eye-lids fluttered and she opened her eyes. She looked up at the ceiling, wondering why something so ordinary felt so wrong? She groaned, her head buzzing like a hangover headache, but that only lasted a short while. She suddenly had the feeling that someone was in the room with her, and pushed herself up onto her elbows to look around. But the room was empty, the subdued light from the hall outside her bedroom filtered in through the slightly open door, plus the fact that it was still not completely dark outside, allowed her to be sure she was alone.

She looked down at herself, the thrusting twin mountains of her breasts, rose and fell softly. Not so soft however were her nipples, the darkened colour of their flesh was in stark contrast to the golden orbs that they rose from. She noted her breasts were glistening with the sweat of heavy exertion, but was not surprised. The wet, latex erection between her thighs, caught her attention next, sticking up skyward, proudly capable of giving her more abuse, should she wish it. She could feel her pussy had made good use of it already, and bore witness still, in its gaping wetness; having been penetrated by the eight-inch pussy-stretching girth. It mattered not to her that she had broken her long run of abstinence, it was the recollection of the fantasy, that had brought her to the point of collapse, that bothered her all the more. “Oh, no, Clarissa, how could you even think about doing……your…son….doing that?”

Her door creaked, making her sit up quickly, and grab for her quilt. But it was just the breeze from her slightly open window. She relaxed back down, clasping her stocking covered thighs about the erect phallus, the wet glistening head of which, rose erotically triumphant, from the top of her legs, seemingly pleased at where it had been and what it had done and evidently up for more of the same. She giggled like a young girl, playing with a penis for the first time. Grateful that she had had this time to herself. She looked across at her bedside clock. It was only eight-thirty, Chris would not be back for some time yet. Her mind questioned her body, as to whether it was ready, or indeed wanted, any more of the same? As she squeezed the phallus between her legs, she knew what the answer was and got up from the bed, carrying the pseudo man to her full-length mirror, to stick it where her husband had first introduced her to it. She felt the instant fire begin again in the pit of her stomach as she looked upon the cock, only this time, it wasn’t attached to some amorphous man in her fantasy, in her head, it was clearly her son’s cock.

She knelt upon the carpeted floor, in supplication before the large erection. “What do you mean you want me to suck your cock, Chris? I am your mother, it is inappropriate…. You are big though, bigger than your father……why do you want me to suck you, don’t you have a girlfriend that can do that? Oh, I see, you do have a girlfriend, but it is my lips you long for about your phallus. And is it hard because you like seeing me in this lingerie? Is it hard because you want to fuck me?”

Clarissa vocalised her fantasy, playing out what was running around in her head, then placed her cherry lips close to the wonderfully shaped head of the latex phallus before whispering. “I’ve wanted to suck you too Chris, for longer than you can know, but if I do this, you cannot speak of it, you cannot tell your girlfriend that your mother sucked you off.” Her lips slid over the head, and she allowed her tongue to run over the large intrusion as she sucked at her juices, the sweet taste an aphrodisiac for her. “Ohhhh Chris, you taste divine. How could you have withheld this beast from me?” With her tongue running along the base of the cock, she allowed it to slip down her throat, her lips finally contacting the base. She did not gag at all, which surprised her, as she had not taken a cock in her throat for some time. Her slurping and moaning as she pleasured her son’s cock increased until she could take no more. She pulled from the monstrous phallus, her saliva dribbling down her chin and falling to her naked breasts. “I need you again Chris, I need him in me, I want you to fuck me again and make me come, make me come as many……Oh God……just talking about it!”

Chris lay on his bed. He had kept his door open, just so that he could listen out for his mother and ensure that she was ok. He couldn’t trust himself to be in the room with her and was extremely annoyed at himself for showing that weakness. To get an erection, because of his mother was perhaps the depths of depravity for him. Were she to find out, he was sure, she would be mortified? He read a magazine and encouraged his wayward member to behave itself.

Shortly afterwards however, he heard his mother move in her room and he sat up in bed. He wanted to go to her and make sure she was now ok, but knew that she was in a state of undress. And knew too, that she had that very embarrassing toy to remove. He decided to wait a bit and give her chance. But then her heard her speaking, speaking clearly to him. He was confused, was she still hallucinating? Should he go in anyway? As he listened to what she was saying he became red with embarrassment. How did she know what he wanted? How could she know his inner-most dreams?

He heard the succulent wet sounds of his mother as it sounded like she was giving him a blow-job, he heard her moaning, he heard her say that he tasted divine and he heard her say that she wanted him to fuck her. His cock of course could not take this lying down. If he felt that he was hard after seeing his mother in her lingerie, knowing that she had be masturbating; hearing her sucking on, what he assumed was the phallus she had been using a few moments before, whilst fantasising about him, had created a rigidity in him that was unknown to him. In fact, so exciting was his mother’s vocalisations, that he already had a damp patch in his shorts, where pre-come was leaking from his erection. But what happened next, finished all hope of denying what he was hearing.

Clarissa had got up from her knees, she was still dribbling from her mouth as all that filled her head now was sex at its most raw. She held onto the moist cock as she spun around and bending over quickly fed it in between her dripping folds. “Oh, shit Chris, that is good. God, you fuck me better than any man I have ever had. Do you like how my cunt grips your erect shaft, am I tight enough for you, does my pussy excite you, ohhhhhh GODDDDDDdddddd…..already! Huh, huh, huhhhhhh Chris I’m coming again. You are such a naughty boy making your mother come like this, fuck, CHRIS!”

Chris looked down at his pulsing shaft, with his mother’s screams of lust going on in the other room, lust that was supposedly of his doing, it was no wonder his cock could not hold on and pulsing rapidly, it released its contents. He groaned quietly as hot spurt after hot spurt of his ejaculate filled his pants.

“Oh sweet Jesus, you know how to fuck your mother don’t you, oh, oh, ohhhh, ohhhhhshitChris. Fuck I think……..yes, yes, YES, you are making me…..come……again, oh that makes…..I don’t know?” She panted breathlessly. “That makes five of six times you’ve made mummy come, you are a bad influence, ohhh yes, please touch me there, and yes squeeze my nipples, I love that, I love the way you gently play with my clit….oh Chris, I can feel another, OOOOOOOOHhh I think I am going to die of pleasure, do you think that possible?”

Chris could hear his mother clearly. He could hear as she repeatedly pounded on the shaft, could hear all of the sexual squelching noises as her fully lubricated vagina was pounded by the latex man. He could take no more of this, though his still erect cock obviously had other ideas, despite having releasing its load. He crept down the stairs, quietly opened the from door, then loudly slammed it shut and shouted out. “Hi mum, I’m back. Do you want a cuppa?”

There was a pause before his mother replied to him, and when she did, her voice was broken, gasping and harsh. “Er, yes please dear. Give me a minute and I will be down.”

Chris was relieved, his ruse had appeared to work, and he wouldn’t therefore need to confront, or be confronted by, his mother. He went into the kitchen to make the tea.

Clarissa extricated herself from the erection, thanking her lucky stars that Chris had turned up now, any earlier, and he would have caught her in the throes of an orgasm, that would not have been denied. Her legs were very wobbly and she felt flushed from head to foot, so went into the bathroom and used a wet flannel to mop herself down. The cool water helped in calming her. Slipping on her silk dressing gown she moved to her door. It was as she went to grab the door handle, she realised something was wrong. The door should have been closed! She had leant against it earlier that evening, she knew it was closed. So how was it open now? Unless…..?

As she pulled the door open with trembling fingers, she could see into her son’s room. The reading light was on by the bed, and it was evident that he had been laying on the top of the bead, reading one of his magazines. ‘Of course, he could have left it like that, before going out?’ She tried to convince herself, but was doubtful that that was the case. More worrying for her, was the much more likely scenario, that he had been witness to her whole last sex session, and with her screaming out his name too! “Oh God,” she muttered out load, “he heard everything, oh, how do I explain this one?”

As she entered the kitchen, Chris stood by the kettle. He looked shell-shocked, and embarrassed. His whole body language confirmed her fears, she didn’t need to ask him. Clarissa’s eyes instantly caught the rather large wet patch on the front of his shorts. He could of course, just have spilt some water there? But then she could see the outline that his cock was making, and it was evident the wet patch was exactly where the end of his cock would be if erect. It made her catch her breath in her throat.

“How was your evening darling?”

Chris looked up at his mother for the first time, she wore her silk robe which she had hastily done up. It did nothing to hide the large erections of her nipples, and everything to bring his attention to them. The robe had parted at her thigh and revealed that upper most portion of her stocking covered thigh, just before the stocking top, that was enticingly out of view by only a few microns.

The gown moulded to her shape, it emphasised her curves, the flatness of her stomach, the womanly hips, the long legs. She had evidently not put on a bra, he wondered if she wearing any panties? Then chastised himself for those thoughts.

He could smell her. He could smell the freshness of her shower gel and shampoo, but he could also smell the erotic, pheromonal smell of her recent activities. “It was ok,” he said, finally raising his eyes to look into hers, having briefly looked at her breasts and nipples again. “I was stood up actually.”

“Stood up? By the boys? All of them?” Clarissa looked at her son, confused. His face was bright red, and his eyes seemed to stray all over her. Despite her recent activities and her multiple orgasms and despite her trepidation in having to confront her son in the knowledge that he had heard her screaming his name as she masturbated; she knew she had not been fully satisfied, and was once again beginning to feel the heat of that need under his unnerving gaze.

“Yeah, I sort of told a lie there. I didn’t want you to know I was going on a blind date. I guess I wanted you to think that I was able to get a girl if I wanted one, but the truth is, Elise is the first date that I have been able to arrange for a while, I just don’t find it that easy. Anyway, this girl didn’t show, so I was done by seven thirty.” As soon as he said that, Chris realised his mistake. It was now nine-fifteen, so his mother was bound to ask…..

“What, and you have only just got in now?” Clarissa already knew the truth of things before he even said anything. It would explain why her door was open. It would explain why she was laying on her back, looking at the ceiling after her first bout with the sex toy; because Chris had helped her into that position. The full realisation of it began to permeate through her mind. Surprisingly it was not dread, remorse or embarrassment that her son had caught her masturbating, or even fucking. Or that he probably heard her calling out his name. The realisation was, that she wanted him to know. Wanted him to know what she had been doing, and yes, wanted him to witness it too.

The question now for Clarissa, was ‘how would he react to that, how would she react to his reaction?’ Certainly, if his shorts were anything to go on, her screaming out his name as she was pile-driving the latex cock had turned him on to the point of orgasm. She had to pursue things further. Her body was coercing her into doing it. Her pussy felt on fire again, it ached for real flesh to part her lips wide and stretch her as it penetrated her to the hilt. Clarissa had no choice in the matter and found herself saying. “So, you’ve been home for a while then?” She moved forwards to him and cupped his chin to raise his face so that she could look into his eyes.

Chris didn’t know what to say? Tell her the truth and embarrass both of them, or tell her a lie and make her feel better, but cause some integrity issues for himself. His mother’s hand upon his face seemed to burn his flesh, and as he looked into her eyes, he saw nothing but the guilt he himself felt.

“Tell me,” Clarissa almost whispered. “Tell me how long you have been here? It will help if we are both honest with one another, as we have always been to this point.”

“I got in at eight.” He stammered. “I….called you, but heard no reply, so I went upstairs and saw your bedroom door closed, so I knocked, but there was no response. I thought you were having a shower or something, so I waited twenty minutes and knocked again…..and…”

“And?” Clarissa had an uncontrollable flutter in her voice, she wanted to hear and yet didn’t want to hear at the same time. Her legs were trembling, as were the fingers still pressed against her son’s chin. “Did you…….did you come into my room?”

Chris moved his face away from her fingertips and looked down again, but nodded his head in acquiesce.

“I see.” She opened her arms. “Come here.” Chris looked up at her, but did not move. So, she took a step forwards and enfolded him in her arms. Her silk coved breasts, squashed into his powerful chest, causing her to moan. Her thin silken gown did nothing to protect her from his wet shorts, it was not long before she felt the wetness of his come upon her stomach. As she took on board the import of that thought, that she now had her son’s come on her body, her legs shook uncontrollably and she looked up at her son, biting her lip, desperately trying not to cry out as the sweetest of orgasms passed through her, she could not stop her hips from thrusting forwards however, and she was pleased that Chris did not pull away. But he had still not put his arms around her, and was probably now even more disgusted with her behaviour than he had been earlier. “A woman has needs, my darling, I have needs. Needs that I have denied myself of for a very long time.”

“I…..underst….”

“No, let me finish, otherwise, the time will pass and I will lose my courage. I have not been with a man, as you know, since your father left. And I have not taken to….shall we say self-pleasure, during that time either. I guess that the combination of those two things and to be fair, something that I saw, something you made me see, well they set me off, I suppose. I guess I over did it and was overcome and fainted. You have to realise it was not my intention to have you find me like that.”

“Yes, I realise…….What, wait a minute, something I made you see? What do you mean?”

Clarissa ignored the question and pushed on. “I am truly sorry that you had to do what you did, but thank you for being concerned enough to check on me. That means a lot.”

“Of course, I am concerned enough, you are my mother and I love you. Why would I not be concerned?”

“Chris, you know what I meant. Were you……..were you very shocked?”

Chris could feel his mother’s firm breasts against him, her breathing was very erratic and she seemed to push into him harder. The little thrusts of her hips against his thigh were really not helping his composure either, he tried to pull back, but she wasn’t having any, and he did not like where the conversation was going, it would result in only one thing, him disgracing himself. It was one thing having an erection, it was an entirely different thing having an erection because of his mother, and that she would feel pressed against her stomach, the instant it started to appear. “Yeah, to be honest I was shocked. But as you said, it is a natural need that we all have, and you were fulfilling that in the only way you could at the moment. I understand mother. Now shall I get on with that tea?”

But his mother wasn’t going to be dissuaded that easily. “What did you think of my stockings, I know that you like seeing women in them, I have seen it in the magazines you keep under your bed. Do you like me wearing stockings? You noticed at the garden centre too, didn’t you?”

“Mother please! I….I’m not sure we should discuss…..I mean……it feels wrong to….”

“Surely it is not wrong to tell me that I looked attractive in them or even sexy? You said as much at the garden centre?”

“Yes, but that was more general. I wasn’t saying you looked really hot, naked, just wearing stockings!”

“Oh, so you thought I was hot?”

“That was not what I meant…….but…”

Clarissa upped the pressure, pushing herself harder against her son, and by saying, “I put them on for you, you know? I have noticed you looking at me when I wear them. I have seen you trying to look up my skirt, or felt your hand sometimes brush against the outside of my thigh as if by accident, but really trying to find out if I was wearing a suspender belt.”

“No…..no I……”

“What is it that you like about stockings Chris, do they turn you on? Is it that girls these days don’t wear them so much, so it is unusual to see, other than in your magazines? Or is it that your girlfriends don’t want to wear them? Have you ever felt them, on a woman’s legs? I don’t know what it is about them, but they make me feel very sexy too, sexy and powerful. Do you want to see them again now? Ummmmmmm, oh! Chris is that….?”

The inevitable had happened, Chris knew it would and as most men have suffered at some point in their lives, or more likely, many points in their lives, he started to get an erection. An erection that he could not stop, despite himself. Despite inward recriminations, despite his inward cry of desperation, that his cock would not respond to what he could only consider as his mother’s probing into his particular turn on. It was always going to happen. The problem was, this wasn’t just discussing the topic with his mother. This was discussing the topic with her pressed up tightly against him. Her stupendous, pert, golden globes, topped with very swollen, erect nipples, where rubbing against his chest as she cuddled him. Breasts that he had seen naked only a few moments before. Breasts that were separated from him by sheer microns of clothing. And breasts that if he were honest with himself, he longed to touch and stroke and play with.

And then there was the close proximity of her pussy to his thighs and she ground against him, and the knowledge of the fact that she was wearing stockings. All this and his mother’s teasing, probing questions his fetish, or what he perceived as his fetish. Well, to a degree, he could be forgiven for not being able to control his penis. But to make matters even worst, his mother, instead of backing away in disgust, seemed to be pushing even harder against him. Surely, she must know, surely, she must be able to feel his growing, pulsing member? It was trapped between them after all?