Chapter 6
Jean drove her four year-old station wagon slowly and without destination through block after block of the sprawling suburb. Her thoughts were muddled and incoherent. Lurid erotic images warred with pangs of guilt in her mind. Her attempt to come to terms sexually with her young son had only made things worse. But she had learned one thing from the experiment. The only way two people who desired each other could come to terms sexually was by having sex together, by achieving mutual satisfaction. And she and Stephan did want each other, warped as their want might be. And all this evening's little episode had done was increase their mutual frustration.
More by accident than by design she found herself on one of the main boulevards that led toward the heart of town. When the roadside tavern approached, it seemed only natural to stop for a drink and try to calm her nerves. When, three whiskey and sodas and nearly an hour later, she walked out of the tavern and got back into her car, she still hadn't decided what to do next. But she knew she had to do something. The situation as it presently stood was intolerable.
Feeling slightly light-headed from the alcohol she'd drunk, Jean drove back to her house, parked and got out. Through the front window of the den she could see the gray glow of the black-and-white television. Then Stephan's face appeared in the window, peering darkly out at her, and just the sight of her beloved young son caused a quickening of her pulse. When she let herself into the house Stephan was waiting for her in the doorway of the den. She stopped. They stood silently staring back at each other for a long moment. She felt his eyes burning over the inviting swells of her breasts and the lush curves of her body. The fluttering nervousness in her stomach was almost more than she could bear and Stephan looked as if he were unable to find the words to speak. At last he lowered his eyes to the floor, and turned away.
"You're not going out tonight?" Jean asked.
"No. The other guys are with their girls."
"I'll fix us supper then."
The evening passed slowly as a prison sentence. Jean cooked a couple of minute steaks and made a big platter of French fried potatoes, but Steve ate without his accustomed relish. Afterwards they watched one fairly interesting TV show and a couple that were downright bad. Jean tried on several occasions to make idle conversation but it didn't get very far. Neither of them mentioned what had happened before she ran from the house. Its omission left an unbridgeable gap between them.
When the eleven o'clock news came on she suggested to Stephan that he was probably ready for bed. He agreed obediently, and after a last nervous look at his mother the young boy walked out to the hall. Jean sat where she was, staring without interest at the television, tears filling her eyes and spilling down her cheeks. She waited until Steve had gone to his room, then got up and started toward her own. At his half-open door she paused and looked in. He sat propped against the back of the bed, his troubled face illuminated by the reading lamp. He wasn't reading. He wasn't doing anything. He was just sitting there in his pajamas.
"Good night Stephan," she whispered.
"Good night Mom."
She continued on to her own room. Inside she slipped off her shoes. She undid the snap of the zipper at the side of her skirt and pulled it down. The garment hung precariously on the flare of her shapely hips as she stood looking at herself in the mirror. Then, also in the mirror, she saw the door behind her ease slowly open. Stephan, still in his pajamas came through. She turned slowly to face him and whispered softly his name.
"Where'd you go?" he asked.
"What honey?"
"Where'd you go tonight when you left? I thought you were running away from me."
She managed a smile. "I guess I was. And from myself too. I didn't go anywhere. Just for a ride."
"But...., " he began, his voice faltering.
"But what?"
"But I liked that. Kissing you and holding you."
"I liked it too, Stevie. I liked it too much."
"Don't call me Stevie anymore," he said. "It makes me feel like a kid."
"All right," she promised, watching him through narrowed lust-glazed eyes.
When Steve moved it was awkwardly and without finesse, but the sheer decisiveness of his action reminded his surprised mother of the way the boy's father had of going without hesitation after anything he ever set his mind on having. The excited teenager half-lunged and half-stumbled toward her, falling off-balance into her arms opened in reflex to catch him. His arms moved quickly around her back, both his hands clasping the twin half-moons of her buttocks and pulling her loins tight against his own as he planted hungry kisses on the sensitive skin of her neck just below the ears. He trembled against her, his face crushing her breasts, his breathing coming loud in her ears.
"No, Steve. Please, no!" the astonished young mother moaned without conviction.
"I'm sorry, Mom," he said gustily in her ears. "But I can't help it. You're so beautiful and I love you so much and I want ... your body so much."
Jean could feel the blood raging deep within her body, and for the first time she realized the enormity of the dilemma in which she and her young son were enmeshed. His want for her was a urgent as hers for him, and she wanted him the way she'd never wanted another man since his father. She wanted to kiss and hold him like she'd already done, but she wanted so much more than that. Her craving was almost carnivorous and she wanted everything he had to give her. She wanted to let him kiss her over her whole sensuously aroused body. She wanted to love him and let him make love to her. She wanted to teach him, to teach him the joy of thrusting his hard little cock up in her cunt, teach him to find and quiet the source of the lustful thunder that was building through her breasts and loins. She wanted to train him in the art of pleasing a woman, to recreate in him the man she had loved, the man who had sired him.
She wanted, by making love to her son, to bring his father back, reincarnated.
But it could not be. Beautiful as it was as a dream, in reality it was a lascivious and sordid idea and somehow she had to stop it before they both went past the point of no return.
But she no longer knew how to stop it. Steve's inexperienced hands had moved beneath the waistband of her loosened skirt. They grasped forcibly over her firmly rounded buttocks under her dress, squeezing and kneading them through the outside of her panties with a hypnotic rhythm that jarred her from head to foot. At the same time she could feel his young hard cock pushing up in full erection against the tender softness of her belly and thighs and even her forbidden pubic mound. The throbbing pressure caused her panty-covered vaginal slit to moisten in unwilling welcome, and it required every bit of her strength to fight the overwhelming impulse to plunge her own hand straight down under her skirt and pull it up to expose herself even more completely to his maddening stimulation.
More and more the insane and illicit fantasy in which Jean had indulged the last couple of days was becoming real and prevalent, taking control of her spirit and mind, guiding her helplessly yielding body to prompt her to wriggle her torso in teasing response. Further wild thrills coursed through her body as she felt the swollen hardness of her teen-aged penis jerk even larger inside his pajamas. Her legs were becoming weak and she thought she would pass out from the sheer agony of it if she didn't find some kind of release from the burning desire that tormented her. And Stephan needed his own release too. But how? What could they do, short of intercourse, to kindle this raging fire of desire and establish some kind of rapport between them that would enable them to go on living as mother and son?
She asked the question silently in her mind and silently it was answered.
Masturbation. Mutual masturbation!
The very thought was almost too obscene for words, and yet she realized it was her only hope of emerging from this crisis hanging on to even a semblance of self-respect. And she knew now that she had to have at least that much. She had to be touched, caressed, stimulated to even greater peaks of lust before she could emerge with the peace and satisfaction of physical release. And maybe, if they both did it for each other, they could make their sexual peace without stooping to means even more depraved.
The lust-driven mother seized deliriously on the perversely thrilling idea that had popped unbidden into her mind, and before she had a chance to give it a second thought she suddenly squirmed free of her eagerly groping son and stepped back to stare narrow-eyed down at his face. Then, as a teasing little smile played on her lips, she reached down to the waist of her already loosened skirt. It took just a shove and the flimsy garment dropped from her hips and went slithering down her smooth thighs to the floor.
Stephan's eyes almost bugged out of his head as he saw his mother standing before him in nothing but her tight-fitting sweater and her transparent little bikini panties. Through the thin nylon material he stared, hypnotized by the soft vee-shaped triangle of dark pubic hair that nestled between her thighs which was almost frightening in the very awesomeness of its beauty. He had seen his mother naked before, but that was years ago. It was just recently that he'd begun to be haunted by the memory of the vision. And now just this shadowy glimpse of her pussy through her thin little panties brought the whole picture back to life in his mind.
Jean's courage almost deserted her when she saw the look on young Steve's face. His astonishment was evident and she could see the curiosity in his eyes. His innocence could not have been more apparent, and as she felt his stunned gaze drifting up and down her almost naked body from her high proud breasts, swollen lustfully into ripe melon-shaped mounds inside her sweater, to the scarcely protected softness of her cunt in her clinging panties, she made one last desperate attempt to abandon her lewd undertaking. But she realized deep inside it was already too late to turn back. Once her mind had seized upon the idea of satisfying her lust and giving her son his own badly needed satisfaction at the same time, she'd lost all hope of regaining control of her senses.
But even in her present state she barely recognized the sound of her own voice as she spoke: "Do you remember what I look like without my clothes?"
Steve blinked. "Gosh yes! Well almost. How could I forget?"
"Do you want to see me again?" He managed only a greedy nod. Jean smiled, lasciviously and wantonly. "I remember you too. So take off your pajamas and I'll take off my sweater."
Skip stared at his mother with shock, feeling almost nauseous with the fluttering of butterflies in his stomach. His stiff young cock was aching within the confines of his pajamas and shorts, but still he made no move to do her bidding.
Sensing her young son's hesitance, Jean reaching out toward him. As chills of delight raced up and down his spine, she deftly flicked open the buttons of his pajama-top, then quickly pushed it from his shoulders and let it fall to the floor behind him. Her hands dropped quickly downward to the elastic band that held up the bottoms. With a gentle tug she pulled them down off his hips, a small spontaneous gasp rising in her throat as she saw the hardness and surprising size of his erect young cock springing out from his almost hairless loins. My God, little Stevie really was growing up. His teenaged penis was almost man-size, and compared to the last time a couple of years ago when she'd seen him with his cock erect in his sleep, it seemed almost double in length.
Then, leaving Stephan standing completely naked before her, his dark-haired mother grasped her own sweater and peeked it slowly up over the voluptuous swells of her breasts crested by her hard-swollen nipples. She tugged the garment over her head, mussing her hair and giving herself a wild, wanton appearance. Naked now except for her panties, she tossed her sweater aside. For a moment she stood looking in hungry silence at her eagerly aroused teenaged son. Then she slipped her trembling hand around his waist, urging him over to the bed and guiding him down to a reclining position on his back. Climbing up beside him, she gazed passionately down into his wide excited eyes.
"Gosh Mom," he croaked. "Are we really gonna do it?"
Jean smiled and shook her head. "No Steve. We're not going to do that. We can never do that. But I know you're excited and I am too and we're going to do something together, something for each other, that will make us both feel better." She moistened her lips in an intentionally seductive gesture. Then she reached down to run one of her fingers softly along his thigh, stroking slowly upward to brush gently over the pulsingly hard resiliency of his cock jutting up from his loins.
"Wow!" Steve gasped, shuddering excitedly from the thrilling contact. Then his mouth fell open as his mother's hand moved down to clasp securely around the urgently pulsing hardness of his young penis.
Jean's brain was whirling in an ever increasing spiral of need as she clasped her hand sensuously around his spontaneously jerking little cock-shaft. God, her son was so handsome, so vulnerable. He was like his father, before she'd ever known him, and for an instant she basked in the bittersweet memory of the night Tom had first seduced her and taken away her own carefully guarded innocence. Now that act was going to be reversed. It was she who would be the seductress, the violator, and her only regret was that the seduction would never completely be consummated, not in the way she now so desperately longed for it to be.
Steve's throat constricted until he felt as though he might never again be able to utter another word of speech. He felt his mother's experienced fingertips stroking tenderly up and down the naked hardness of his virginally throbbing young penis. The lust-arousing sensation made his whole body tremble, and he felt as if he could cum right there on the spot. His mother was actually touching his cock. And she was here in bed, almost naked, right beside him. And she was looking at him with an expression of love and longing like he'd never seen before in all his life. He'd never heard of anybody's mother doing something like this to him. For a moment he wondered what Bill and the other guys would think if they knew about it. They might even call it sissy or something. But he didn't even care. It felt too good and there was no way in the world he could have brought himself to object.
Then an uncontrollable gasp of excitement burst from Stephan's lips as his mother's hand squeezed the hard slender rod of his cock, and her other hand moved down to tenderly cup the tight-stretched little sac that held his cum-filled balls. He watched with fascination as she began to stroke his stiffly distended cock-shaft right before his gaping eyes, her fingers pulling the loose outer skin up and down just below the blood-filled pulsing cock-head. He felt as if he'd die if she didn't stop it ... but it would have been even worse if she did. Then suddenly the aroused teenager stiffened as he felt himself completely losing control.
"Uh-oh," he groaned. "Be careful, Mom, I'm gonna..."
His young mother ceased her teasing manipulations and left her hand resting gently and quietly around her son's straining cock-shaft. "I know," she purred, smiling down at his face. "If I don't stop you're going to cum. And I want you to cum. fingers softly along his thigh, stroking slowly upward to brush gently over the pulsingly hard resiliency of his cock jutting up from his loins.
"Wow!" Steve gasped, shuddering excitedly from the thrilling contact. Then his mouth fell open as his mother's hand moved down to clasp securely around the urgently pulsing hardness of his young penis.
Jean's brain was whirling in an ever increasing spiral of need as she clasped her hand sensuously around his spontaneously jerking little cock-shaft. God, her son was so handsome, so vulnerable. He was like his father, before she'd ever known him, and for an instant she basked in the bittersweet memory of the night Tom had first seduced her and taken away her own carefully guarded innocence. Now that act was going to be reversed. It was she who would be the seductress, the violator, and her only regret was that the seduction would never completely be consummated, not in the way she now so desperately longed for it to be.
Steve's throat constricted until he felt as though he might never again be able to utter another word of speech. He felt his mother's experienced fingertips stroking tenderly up and down the naked hardness of his virginally throbbing young penis. The lust-arousing sensation made his whole body tremble, and he felt as if he could cum right there on the spot. His mother was actually touching his cock. And she was here in bed, almost naked, right beside him. And she was looking at him with an expression of love and longing like he'd never seen before in all his life. He'd never heard of anybody's mother doing something like this to him. For a moment he wondered what Bill and the other guys would think if they knew about it. They might even call it sissy or something. But he didn't even care. It felt too good and there was no way in the world he could have brought himself to object.
Then an uncontrollable gasp of excitement burst from Stephan's lips as his mother's hand squeezed the hard slender rod of his cock, and her other hand moved down to tenderly cup the tight-stretched little sac that held his cum-filled balls. He watched with fascination as she began to stroke his stiffly distended cock-shaft right before his gaping eyes, her fingers pulling the loose outer skin up and down just below the blood-filled pulsing cock-head. He felt as if he'd die if she didn't stop it ... but it would have been even worse if she did. Then suddenly the aroused teenager stiffened as he felt himself completely losing control.
"Uh-oh," he groaned. "Be careful, Mom, I'm gonna..."
His young mother ceased her teasing manipulations and left her hand resting gently and quietly around her son's straining cock-shaft. "I know," she purred, smiling down at his face. "If I don't stop you're going to cum. And I want you to cum.
But I have to too and I want you to make me do it with your hand."
Steve could only groan in eager delight as his mother scooted up on the bed, shifting around so that her own panty-clad buttocks were nearly at eye level to him and her softly-haired pussy was so close to his face he could almost have reached out and kissed it. Then, still clinging to his jerking cock with her right hand, she reached her left hand back and in a slow teasing motion she peeled her flimsy little panties down off her hips and thighs to her knees, completely exposing her sensuously dimpled ass-cheeks and the dark-haired mound of her cunt to her young son's hungrily leering eyes as she turned to lie sideways on the bed beside him.
"All right Steve," she moaned. "Now we're going to make each other cum. Put your hand between my legs and play with my pussy while I finish jacking you off."
Steve needed no further encouragement. But even as he moved to comply with his mother's command, she seized his wrist to guide his fingers up between her lewdly parted thighs. She gasped out loud at the sudden contact of his outstretched middle finger on the pulsing little slit of her pussy, and at the same time she resumed the up-and-down stroking motion of her own hand on Stephan's obscenely erected young cock.
"Oh Stevie," the aroused young mother moaned, forgetting her promise as her son's eagerly searching fingers instinctively parted the pinkly yielding lips of her cunt and began to probe experimentally up into the sensitive and tender little orifice. "Oooooooooh," she gasped, her whole body jerking from the short stab of slight but pleasing pain as his thumb brushed against the erected bud of her clitoris and his extended middle finger wormed deeper and deeper into her lewdly moistened loins.
And as the aroused woman began a ceaseless chant of salacious surrender to her consuming incestuous lust, Stephan began to hunch and buck his buttocks in response to the manipulations of his mother's experienced hand on his pulsing cock. God, she really knew how to do it. He had been masturbating for several years and cumming regularly for the last two, but he'd never known anything like this. Her hand felt just the way he'd always imagined a woman's pussy would feel if you actually got into it, squeezing hard, then gentle, dragging slowly up and down his sensitive cock-skin until he felt as if his balls would explode. And he knew that was just what was going to happen. His erect little hardness was already twitching in eager spasms in anticipation of his lewdly inevitable ejaculation to come.
Then at last he gasped out his warning: "I can't hold it. I can't hold it any longer."
"Then cum," Jean whispered. "Cum darling, cum. Just keep playing with me while you're doing it."
Seconds later as she looked down through lust-glazed eyes the first white hot droplets of her son's hot teenaged cum began to spurt up almost to her face from the little slit at the tip of his rock-hard cock. The white viscous fluid shot up and hung in the air, falling back to shower on her own forearms as she continued frenziedly working her hand around his jerking little penile shaft.
And, inspired by his own violent ejaculation Stephan worked his fingers even more furiously in and out of his mother's lewdly plundered cunt. He sensed her grit her teeth from the raw sensation, relishing the anticipatory spasm of her lust-aroused little clitoris, straining for her own release as the increasing tremors of excitement surged through her breasts and belly and loins.
"Oh Steve, yes!" the wantonly aroused woman whimpered in lascivious abandon as the welling promise of release surged through her genital flesh. Then at last it began, a sudden fluttering, a little series of mild but gratifying pleasures, a seeming lightening of her whole body, a momentary blanketing of her mind as little waves of ecstasy coursed out over her. She looked down between her own swaying breasts to observe the rapid workings of Stephan's fingers between her lewdly wide-spread thighs, and a rush of motherly affection seemed to heighten and color her shattering orgasm until she almost sobbed with joyous emotion.
Then a low sigh heaved out of her throat, and she slacked the movements of her hand as she felt Stephan's cock twitch one last time and start to go limp in her fist. With her other hand she pushed his fingers from her loins. The dark-haired young mother looked tenderly down at her teenaged son, and he stared with dazed eyes back at her. Then she slid around on the bed, dropping down beside him, hugging him tightly to her breasts and smothering kisses of love and gratitude over his face. She held him like that for several seconds, then pushed him gently away.
"Now go back to your bedroom," she said in a voice that revealed the lump that had swollen in her throat.
Stephan's disappointment showed in his face. "But I want to sleep with you. like I did ... when I was a kid."
Oh, God, Jean thought to herself. It would have been so wonderful if she could keep him here all night, just this one night, naked and warm beside her own naked body beneath the sheets. But she knew that if she kept him here tonight she would never have the willpower to send him away. And she had to send him away. She had to somehow put this terrible thing that had happened behind her. They both had to.
"No Steve," she said at last, shaking her head.
"But mother, please. I want to stay."
Jean felt the tears rush to her eyes. She pulled him to her again, smothering his face in the warmth of her voluptuously naked breasts. Renewed tingles of delight coursed wantonly over her body as she felt her son's hands exploring affectionately over her naked flesh. She could hear her own breathing rhythmically hastening with twinges of returning want. Then with a sudden effort she released her son from her embrace, moving away from him on the bed, looking at him with eyes that shone with her tears.
"You can't stay Stephan. You can't! Go on to your room beofre we do something we'll both regret."
"I won't regret it, Mom. I promise."
"Go to your room!" Jean hissed.
Abashed, the dejected youngster gathered up his pajamas and walked out of the room backward, his eyes fixed steadily on his mother's prone and naked body.