Chapter 1
Melinda Gary possessed flaming red hair and huge, firm bosoms that caused men to turn their heads whenever she was out in public.
It hurt Melinda that things weren't going better between herself and her husband, Dave, than they were. She, like most women, believed that the act of sex should involve a good deal of sensitivity. Dave, conversely, believed in getting his rocks off and little more. He wanted to fuck in the most convincing fashion possible, and preferably with little overall meaning.
"This isn't a movie out of the thirties," he would say with a laugh whenever Melinda would ask for some of the more refined nuances of love-making like extended petting. "This is the do-it-like-it-is generation, honey. And that means fucking!"
After a while Melinda became so disenchanted with her husband's crude style of lovemaking, that she began looking at her son in a different light than she ever had before.
Melinda was in her early forties, but one would never know it by looking at her. She had taken excellent care of herself and took great pride in preserving her beautiful body and face.
Her husband, at forty-five, was three years her senior, but appeared to be a good deal older. Dave was embarrassed many times by the fact that his wife came across so much more youthful than he.
The longer Melinda thought about her relationship with Dave, the more disgusting the whole thing became. On the other hand, she regarded her son as an innocent individual, not given to going out and making passes at every young woman that he saw, as was the case with so many of his classmates at school.
One afternoon, Melinda, who drank very little, was particularly depressed, thinking about her married life. She began to sip scotch and water, and the more she drank, the more melancholy she grew.
It was Friday, and she knew that her husband would be working late at the bank.
She sat there in her living room, looking around the house, wondering why everything seemed so unreal to her. Everything took on an air of tinsel-like fantasy, the beautiful home, the beautiful clothes, her family. It all involved fantasy and, through it all, she hoped that she could receive something in the way of female satisfaction.
She needed a man to treat her in a sympathetic light. Her husband's coldness extended from his job as a loan officer all the way to the bedroom, and she was getting tired of the chilly receptions she got, even when she was giving in to him sexually.
At a few minutes past three, she heard the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. She looked out the window and observed her handsome, blonde-haired young son, Jerry, walking into the house.
It embarrassed her a little that her eyes were moist and that she had had so much to drink.
Jerry entered the house and smiled at his mother.
"Hi, Mom," he said.
"How's it going, Jerry?"
"Oh ... can't complain," he said. "Mom, it looks like you've been crying."
"I guess I have. A little."
"What's the problem?" he asked, sitting down on the other end of the sofa.
"Just feeling a little sad, I guess."
"About what?"
"I really don't want to talk about it. I'd like to talk about you, though. You're such a fine young man."
She pressed the glass to her lips, polishing off the contents.
The longer she fixed her eyes on Jerry, the more appealing he became.
She finally decided that, even though it went against her grain, she ought to offer her son a drink.
"How about joining me for a scotch on the rocks?" she smiled, leaning over and patting Jerry on top of the head.
"It looks like you've already had quite a bit, Mom."
"Fine, then one more can't hurt all that much, can it?"
"I don't know. I guess that all depends."
"On what?"
"On how you're feeling. You look so sad."
"I was feeling sad, but I'm feeling a lot better now that you are here."
"That's good."
"I'll get the drinks."
As Melinda eased up from the sofa, she kicked off her shoes and walked barefooted into the kitchen.
She realized that she looked very attractive in her yellow blouse and matching slacks. Her sensuous hips wiggled ever so gracefully as she walked, and she realized that she was putting a little extra emphasis into her movements because of her son.
It made Melinda feel uncomfortable to recognize that she was thinking of Jerry in a different vein than she normally did. There was something about his captivating presence, his dominating innocence, that got to her. Her husband Dave seemed so jaded and was so crude in his demands for sex. She knew that Jerry would be completely different, and therein lay his appeal.
She quickly returned with the scotch, handing him a glass.
"Do you ever drink, son?" she asked.
"Every now and then," he said. "At parties."
"Tell me about these parties."
"There isn't a whole lot to tell," he shrugged. "I don't carry on as much as some of the other people."
"You're probably better off that you don't."
"Maybe so," he acknowledged.
Jerry began feeling a little uncomfortable over the steadiness with which his mother eyed him. She possessed beautiful, intense, brown eyes, and Jerry suddenly found himself becoming overwhelmed by her all-encompassing presence.
His body felt jolts of electricity, and it was difficult for him to reconcile himself to the fact that he could see his mother as a very attractive woman, one that he could easily desire. But he knew he couldn't get carried away. After all, that would be wrong.
He quickly finished the drink, after which his mother slid over closer to him on the sofa.
As she opened her mouth and began to lick her lips, Jerry swallowed hard. If he didn't know his mother as well as he did, he would have sworn that she was attempting to get him interested in her sexually.
He recalled one occasion when this had happened just a few weeks earlier. A mother of one of his girlfriends had attempted to turn him on sexually in the living room of her home.
The daughter had come walking unexpectedly in from another room, causing the mother to abandon her scheme.
Since Jerry had found his girlfriend's mother attractive, he had wondered ever since just how far things would have gone had his girlfriend not suddenly appeared.
But now he was engaged in an even stranger situation, that of his own mother appearing to come on in a sexual way. He kept telling himself that it had to be just his imagination, and that it really wasn't as it appeared to be.
"You're such a handsome young man, Jerry, and I'm so proud of you," she said.
Melinda discovered that the drink she had fixed herself had released a number of inhibitions. Never, under any other condition, could she conceive of herself doing what she was doing at that moment.
Suddenly Melinda extended her right hand, allowing her fingers to maneuver ever so gently through her son's hair.
The moment that Melinda allowed her fingers to penetrate against his hair, she felt sparks of sexual fire shooting through her entire body.
Melinda began to tremble slightly as she continued running her fingers through Jerry's hair, and she could tell from the manner in which Jerry sat stiffly in the sofa that he was unaccustomed to such attention. It was scaring him that his own mother was furnishing him with physical attention.
While Melinda's fingers continued to move smoothly through Jerry's hair, she leaned her head forward ever so slowly and gracefully.
She preferred to move in a slow, hypnotic fashion as her lips extended themselves and puckered up. She let her lips slide ever so smoothly and gracefully against Jerry's lips.
The first time that Melinda's lips penetrated Jerry's, her whole body reverberated with great excitement.
She could also take great pride in the fact that she had electrified Jerry as well as herself. His stiff body began to rock back and forth as their lips remained pressed.
She released her lips from his, then let her fingers drop down to her son's legs.
Even though he was wearing trousers, she could still receive a certain amount of sensations from letting her fingers stroke his legs.
Melinda let her fingers run smoothly over them and, as-that action continued, she once again let her lips collide with his.
This time Melinda was allowing her lips to lock more passionately than ever with those of her handsome son.
She could tell that this time around his lips were plunging forward more feverishly and coming into contact with her lips to a more pronounced degree than before.
She released her lips from Jerry's, then decided to try something even more daring than what she had up to that time.
She would let her tongue maneuver inside her son's mouth.
With one swift, devastating movement, Melinda slid her tongue inside Jerry's mouth.
The moment that their tongues converged, they began panting like two writhing, lost souls who had found one another.
Their bodies spun and slid back and forth as their tongues continued to collide devastatingly. Melinda was happy to see that she had finally succeeded in causing her handsome son to loosen up, no longer was Jerry's body dominated by stiffness.
The tongues continued to clash with electrifying joy as the momentum built. The longer that Melinda lashed her tongue against Jerry's, the hotter the sensations became in her mound.
Her loins were ablaze with passionate anticipation, and it was just a question of time before she would find herself in bed with her son. Provided she could wait. The way she was feeling at that particular moment, she didn't even want to spend the necessary time going through the bedroom preliminaries.
A compelling need filled her, and it was just a question of how and when she would service that need.
Once that she released her tongue from Jerry's mouth, Melinda let her right hand slide down toward his zipper.
She quickly unzipped the zipper, then reached inside his trousers and pulled out his hard cock.
She let her fingers move with skilled grace over his penis, and the longer that the fingers manipulated the more passionate Jerry began to feel.
His heart pumped with fervent desire as her finger movements continued at a rapid clip. Things were happening just too fast for Jerry to fully comprehend. One moment his mother was offering him a drink, and next she was tackling his cock with boiling passion.
"You've got such a nice, hard dick," Melinda said softly. "I love touching it, dear. Do you love it when I stroke it?"
"Oh yes, Mom. I really do. I like it a lot. I don't know if it's right, though. I'm all mixed up inside. We shouldn't do this. Please, Mom, please let go of my cock."
"I don't want to, Jerry. This means so much to me."
"It means a lot to me too, but it just isn't right. You're my mother!"
"I know I am, son. But I also have strong desires inside of me. They just can't be suppressed. I'm sorry. I've tried, but it just won't work. I'm just too excited about you. I've got to have you, and that's all there is too it."
She stepped up the pace of her fervent finger movements, and as the fingertips darted up and down the length of his huge erect instrument, Jerry recognized just how futile it would be to oppose her efforts. But he made a final effort.
"It isn't right, Mom, it really isn't," Jerry balked.
"Please don't say any more, son. I need it. I need it more than anything right now."
As Melinda continued to allow her right hand to maneuver skillfully up and down Jerry's hard cock, she reached out with her left hand and let her fingers roam over his hot balls.
The fingers worked with searching grace, and Melinda exercised every bit of skilled passion that she possessed on his cock and balls.
When she began to work the soft fingers over his erect penis and his bulging testicles at the same time, he found himself carried to the point where he could no longer speak out in opposition to what she was doing.
He recognized how futile his efforts had been anyway, and it was now more apparent to him than ever that he would be willing to do anything to make her happy.
He could see from the rising tempo that was developing between them that Melinda was also enjoying every bit of the action.
"I'll bet you like this," she laughed. "I can tell from the way you're reacting."
"Who wouldn't?" Jerry shook his head, panting eagerly. "You've got magic in your fingers, Mom. You really know how to work them."
"The time has come for us to stop calling each other Mom and Son," she said. "We should call each other something like 'darling' or 'love', but certainly not Mom and Son. We're more intimate than that now, baby. We're at a point where few people ever get ... the point of complete passionate release. I'm going to get it from you, baby, I really am. And you're going to enjoy every second of it too."
"I feel like I'm ready to blow up now," he gasped. "Your fingers are doing such a great job."
"Of course they are, honey. I've got a good cock and nice hot balls to work with."
All the while she continued the fervent pumping, letting her fingers slide around his balls penetratingly and pumping up and down on his huge prick at the same time.
"I love you, honey," she gasped.
Jerry closed his eyes momentarily, feeling the sparks continue to fly throughout his body, focused in the area of his cock and balls.
His heart pounded with relentless eagerness as she kept her movements going, pushing him ever closer to the point of climax.