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An Accident, The Internet, A Hotel

By: jtmalone70



Author's Note: Although I'm not a great fan of purely erotic stories, I wrote this merely as an experiment, trying to delve into the psychology of this particular theme. It is not a true story and in no way reflects my thoughts on the subject.

*

It happened on a weekend, when I went to visit my son Mark at college. He lived a little less than an hour away, not making it unusual for me to spend the night there, rather than drive home. Sometimes I'd visit for the day and other times to spend an evening, depending on our respective schedules. But regardless what we did or for how long, I was there simply to visit him.

We had a wonderful relationship, and he was never a source of worry or problematic, when he lived at home. And when he moved away, it broke my heart. 

My weekend visits were also a way for me to share in his college experience. In a sense, I suppose I was living vicariously through him, albeit more directly. When I was eighteen, I became pregnant with him, my first child, and didn't graduate from college until I was twenty-six years old. During that time, I brought three more children into the world with my husband and that necessitated me spending the lion's share of time caring for them. I took classes when I could here and there, but what I missed out on was the social life of a college student. While my peers were out dancing and going to parties, I was at home changing diapers. Not that I felt somehow cheated out of my rightful due, rather visiting Mark afforded me the opportunity to occasionally sample the lifestyle I never had the chance to partake in.

Sometimes we'd catch a movie, maybe go out to dinner and stop by a nearby bar for some dancing, and other times we'd go someplace quiet and talk, catching up and exchanging stories from school and home. Maybe it was bowling, Frisbee golf, or going for a bike ride. We rarely made definite plans, preferring to go along with wherever the time and mood took us. 

It was the weekend before the start of spring break of his sophomore year. His dad and I had plans for Saturday, so I drove up to visit Mark Friday evening with the intent on spending the night and driving home in the morning. 

He had just turned 21 years old and, standing at a solid six feet, towered over me by a good seven inches. He was built like his dad: large and strong and with the same jovial demeanor and ever-present smile on his face. All mothers like to say it, and I'm no different, but Mark was a very handsome young man. He had a serious girlfriend named Beth, and I don't think there was a doubt in anyone's mind that they would probably wed one day. 

When I did go to visit him, sometimes I stayed in his room in the resident hall, although at times it could be quite noisy there long into the night on the weekends. So there were occasions when I'd get a hotel room, in order to get a solid night of sleep. On this particular weekend, I stayed with Mark in his room. 

Something else I should mention is that I have a tendency to move around quite a bit in my sleep. More than a few times, I'd toss and turn so much, that I'd roll right out of bed and onto the floor with a heavy thump, usually bonking my head. At home, my husband and I had our bed against a wall. I'd sleep on the inside, while he slept on the outside, thus preventing me from rolling out. When I stayed with Mark, he did likewise, sleeping next to me in his small dorm room bed. Even though he never said as much, I knew he didn't like it. He was a big fella, after all, and with two of us in his tiny bed, and compound on that my incessant movement during the night, he probably didn't get much sleep. 

And so it was on that Friday night, after we had returned to his room from an evening of dancing at the bars, that we crawled into bed and went to sleep. Very early, in the wee hours of the morning, I awoke briefly and rolled over, facing Mark. When I did so, my hand inadvertently landed on his groin. And in that moment of semi-consciousness, I realized he had an erection under his shorts. Of course, in that state of mind, it didn't quite click as to whom it was sleeping next to me. At home in bed with my husband, there had been numerous times over the years that something very similar had happened. I snuggled up closer to Mark, still unaware it was him, and slipped my hand under the waistband of his shorts, wrapping my fingers around him. I remember smiling to myself and began slowly stroking him, still lying there with my eyes closed and my mind half asleep. I felt his chest rise and he began to stir ever so slightly. Sensing he was enjoying the sensations I was giving him, I carefully pushed his shorts down with my hand, and resumed stroking him. 

He was long and very rigid, very warm. I suppose in my mind, I thought I was at home with my husband. So when Mark put his hands on mine, still firmly wrapped around his cock, I simply allowed him to do as he wished. With both his hands on mine, he began thrusting his hips ever so slightly, driving his cock through my fingers. And after another minute or so, he groaned and I felt his cock swell and begin spurting. After he came, I remember smiling in my state of semi-sleep, and running my hand all over his chest. Then I drifted off into unconsciousness. 

I'm not sure how much time had passed, but the next thing I recall, I was lying on my back and felt an intense tingling between my legs. I moaned softly and spread my knees, probably thinking it was a wonderful wet dream. Then I felt something enter me. My mind was still in a haze, and I spread my knees further and reached down between my legs. To my surprise, I felt a hand already there, two fingers massaging deep inside me. It didn't even dawn on me to wonder who was doing this. It felt so good, that I didn't even care. When my orgasm struck, I whimpered and snapped my legs tightly around the hand giving me so much pleasure. And then I drifted once more into sleepy oblivion. 

When I awoke, Mark was sleeping soundly next to me. I slowly sat up, wiping the sleep from my eyes, and looked around. The sun was already shining brightly through the window. I looked over at the clock on his desk and, when I saw the time, I jumped out of bed. It was nearly 10am and I was supposed to be home by 11am. Mark sat up, still groggy, and watched me search for my clothes. I still had on my blouse, though it was completely unbuttoned and hanging open. The straps of my bra were also hanging down my shoulders, allowing my breasts to jiggle loosely in the cups. 

"Where's my panties?" I asked, frantically searching around on the floor. I was in such a hurry that I pushed aside any pause to consider why I wasn't wearing them. And I didn't care that my own son was watching me nude from the waist down. 

He made a tentative movement to look around on the bed, but I found them on the floor and quickly stepped into them. 

"Your shorts are over there," he said softly, pointing to the door to his room. "Ok, thanks," I replied, hastily buttoning my blouse, and then walked over to retrieve my shorts. I slipped them up my legs, and then went back to his bed and sat down, pulling on my shoes. Mark lay there leaning on one elbow watching me. When my shoes were on, I stepped over to his mirror and quickly checked my hair. Then I grabbed my purse off his desk and shot for the door. Just as I opened it, I turned around. He was staring at me with a slightly confused smile on his face. I grinned briefly, and then closed his door and walked back over to him. Leaning down, I gave him a quick peck on the forehead, told him I loved him, and that I'd see him in a few days, when he came home for spring break. 

It wasn't until I was at last driving home that I had time to take in everything that had happened. It all started to slowly come back to me. At first I wondered about not having my panties on, and that led to trying to recall what had transpired during the night. I was sitting at a red light when suddenly I thought, "Oh God... did he fuck me?!" With no other cars around, I quickly turned into a gas station and jumped out of the car, dashing for the restroom. Inside, I locked the door behind me and unzipped my shorts. My hands were trembling with fear, as I pushed down my panties. I used my fingers to gingerly spread myself open, hoping I wouldn't find any sign that we'd had intercourse during the night; that is, there wouldn't be any semen. I felt around on the outside, and carefully slipped a finger into myself. I sighed in relief, when it came out with nothing clinging to it. Then I quickly dressed and resumed the drive home. 

For the next forty-five minutes, I thought about what we had done. It all seemed like a dream, but a very real and vivid one. For my part, if I can plead any kind of defense, I had no idea where I was or what I was doing. Did Mark? That's what I wondered. Did he remove my panties or did I? In that state of mind, I very well could have done it. There'd been more than a few times when my husband and I had sex during the night and, come morning, I didn't recall much of it. My bedtime clothes would be scattered on the floor of our bedroom, but I didn't recall taking them off, though I know I must have. I told myself it would be ok. It wasn't like we had sex. It was merely a momentary lapse in judgment when both of our capacities for rational thought weren't functioning at their fullest. I began to wonder what Mark was thinking about all of this. Was he mad? No, I thought, he couldn't be. He must have known what he was doing, when he had his fingers inside me. And, God, was that an intense orgasm. The more I thought about it, the less it bothered me; the more I came to accept it. And by the time I arrived home, I was actually trying to relive some of it in my mind; trying to recall the intense pleasure I had felt, both in giving and receiving. 

The next day, around noon, the phone rang and my husband answered it. I came out of my office to the living room where he sat. He was talking to Mark. I sat on the steps next to the couch and listened, and when my husband saw me, he smiled, as he talked with our son. 

"Ok," he said. "No problem. See ya later. Bye."

"That Mark?" I asked.

My husband hung up the phone and nodded. "Said he's gonna stay at school over break. Everyone is going somewhere at his job, so he told his boss he'd stick around to help pick up the slack for the week." 

He went back to reading his book, while I sat there wringing my hands. 

"That all he said?" I asked, trying to hide my nervousness. 

He turned a page and nodded. "Yep," he replied.

I slowly stood and walked back to my little office. Inside, I closed the door behind me and looked at the phone on my desk. I walked over and picked it up, quietly dialing Mark's number. Then he answered.

"Hello?"

I gripped the phone with both hands and tried to sound normal.

"Hey..." I said softly. 

"Oh, hey. I just talked to dad. He tell ya? I'm gonna stay here for the week, since we're gonna be shorthanded."

My mouth was dry and I went to speak, but only coughed. Mark chuckled. "You ok?" "Yeah," I said. "So... You're just gonna work then?" "Well, it'd be nice to have the extra money," he replied. I wrapped my hand around the cord. "And you're... you're ok, though?" I asked hesitantly. "Yeah, I'm fine." "You're not mad?" "Why would I be mad?" he said with a light laugh. I closed my eyes and sighed in relief. "Alright," I said. "I guess I'll talk to you later. Bye. I love you." "I love you, too... and hey, I'm not mad... about anything." My heart nearly stopped, when he said that. "O-ok," I stuttered and hung up. 

I pushed the phone across my desk and sat down heavily in my chair, not knowing what to think of that conversation. 

Tuesday morning, I was online chatting with a friend via instant messenger. No sooner had he left, than Mark came on. I don't know why, but my heart suddenly started racing. Just as I was sending him a message, one from him popped up on my screen. 

"Hey what's up?"

"Was just chatting with a fella. How're you?"

"Fine," he replied.

And then I froze. I didn't know what to say. Even though we weren't exactly face-to-face, it did feel a bit awkward. I tried to think of something to say.

"And how is work?"

"Just fine," he said. 

"Well, that's good."

I can't say for sure, but he seemed to be having the same sense of unease, as myself. Typically, when we talked online together, it was fast-paced. The only time it slowed down was when something distracted us on our respective side of the keyboard. But it was becoming obvious that something was different now. 

"Who were you talking to?" he asked. 

"Oh, no one really. Just a guy I met online a few months ago." 

"Having net sex with him? lol" 

I chuckled. The truth is, yeah, I sort of wanted to. He lives on the other side of the country, but I'm certainly not the type to go fooling around behind my husband's back. God, no! I suppose I looked at it as merely a bit of harmless fun. But to be honest, yeah, sometimes I get bored, like anyone else, and, well, I masturbate just to pass the time. 

"That would be none of your business, pal!" I replied, but perhaps as an unconscious tease, added, "And so what, if I was? Jealous or something? :P" 

There was a brief pause, and then Mark replied, "I don't know! Should I be?? :D"

I smirked. That was a good question. In a way, yes, I wanted him to be a little jealous. 

"He just wanted to see what I was wearing, that's all. No biggie." 

There was a pause, and then Mark replied, "You showed him on your webcam?"

"Yeah, of course. How else would he see me?"

Mark paused, and started typing. 

"What did you show him? Just curious."

My heart began racing again and I replied, "Wanna see?"

"Sure"

I turned my webcam on and, with a shaking hand, reached up and angled the camera atop my monitor downward. Mark could now see me. I glanced up at the black eye of the camera and tried to smile, giving him a quick wave.

"Hi there!" he typed. 

I chuckled. "Hi there, back at ya, mister!"

I took a deep breath and waited. Then he began typing. 

"That's it?" he asked. "You just showed him this?"

I fidgeted in my chair, replying, "Well... yeah, sorta."

"Sorta?"

"I sorta showed him more. It was just some harmless fun, is all. Nothing major."

"Ohhhhh ok. If you say so!!" he said. 

Now my hands were visibly shaking, making it difficult to type. 

"Um... wanna see?" I asked. But then I paused, just before hitting the send button. This was it. I'd be making a step in that certain direction. And what if I was wrong about all of this? What if Mark wanted to forget what happened the previous weekend? Just as important, and perhaps more so, was why couldn't I get it out of my head? Why did I keep dwelling on it, replaying it in my mind? Before I could put too much thought into it, I clicked on the send button.

I waited for what seemed like forever, but was probably only a few seconds. 

"sure" came his terse reply. 

I swallowed and took a deep breath, pushing my chair back from the desk. I reached up and angled the camera more to take in a shot of my entire torso. I smiled nervously at the black eye staring back at me, but quickly looked away. It wasn't just a random viewer watching me. It was my son. That black lens was his eyes looking directly at me; looking at my body.

Still nervously shaking, my hands went to the hem of my sweatshirt and pulled it over my head in one quick movement. I dropped it to the side on the floor and sat back in my chair, placing my hands in my lap, sitting there in my white bra facing the monitor, trying to avoid eye contact with the camera. My chest rose sharply as I breathed, knowing Mark was taking me in. After about a minute of silence, he began typing again. 

"That seems harmless."

I grinned and leaned forward to the keyboard.

"Told ya!" I replied, and then quickly sat back.

"You shown other guys this?" he asked.

I leaned forward again. "Um... Yeah, a few."

"This is all you show them?"

I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, as I typed an answer.

"No," I said, typing slowly. "Sometimes I show them more. Not always, but sometimes. Depends on my mood."

Another brief pause, and Mark asked what else I showed them. This time, I didn't hesitate. I knew if I did, I wouldn't follow through on it. I pushed away from the desk and, without looking at the camera, reached back behind me and unclasped my bra, letting it fall from my shoulders. I pulled it off my arms and dropped it to the floor with my shirt. Then I sat back, placing my hands on the arms of the chair, staring back at the monitor. Mark didn't say anything for a long time. I built up my courage, and then slowly brought one hand up to my breast and began caressing it. The flickering ember that had been lit earlier during my previous conversation with my friend was now being rekindled. I made myself forget who it was watching me and took my other hand and placed it at the top of my shorts. Then I slowly pushed it under the waistband. When my fingers made contact with my vagina, my jaw dropped slightly and I sighed, closing my eyes. I didn't care who it was now on the other side of the keyboard. 

I began gently massaging my clit, while simultaneously caressing my erect nipple. And very soon, I let my head fall back and lost myself in the brief moment of self-pleasure. 

When I felt the first twinge of an orgasm approaching, I suddenly remembered Mark. I quickly lifted my head to see if he had sent me a message. Nothing new was on the screen and I feared he might have left. I leaned forward and began typing. 

"Still there?" I asked.

I waited for a reply, and when it finally arrived, I sighed in relief.

"Yes," he said.

I pushed one hand back down my shorts and very awkwardly typed with the other. 

"You hard?" I asked. 

"Yes," came a quick reply. 

"Want me to take off my shorts?" I asked. 

There was a pause, and then he said yes. I pushed my chair back and stood up. Were it any other guy, I would have taken my time doing this in order to be a tease, but instead I hurriedly pushed them down my legs, panties included. When they were pooled around my ankles, I stepped out of them and kicked them off to the side. Then I sat down in my chair, spreading my legs and pushing my ass forward a bit so he could see better. 

Now my body had gone into autopilot. It wasn't Mark, my son, any longer, but simply another guy on the Internet. I leaned forward to the keyboard, asking what he thought. "Nice," he replied, followed up rapidly with, "Very sexy". A devilish grin grew across my face and I leaned back, pushing my knees apart and lewdly playing with my vagina, working my way back to where my orgasm had left off. 

After a few minutes, just on the brink of erupting, I shot back to the keyboard and asked if he was still hard. He said he was and I asked how hard? "VERY" he replied. I glanced up at the camera and smiled, then asked if he was going to cum soon. "YES" he said. "Me too," I typed. Then I leaned back and brought myself to orgasm, writhing in my chair, groaning loudly and holding my legs up high and far apart. And as it slowly ebbed, I did as I always had when I performed this same act with someone online, and licked my fingers clean, occasionally pausing to gently pinch my nipples and pull outward on them. 

When I had finally caught my breath, I smiled up at the camera and winked, wiping a hand over my brow. I pulled my chair back to the keyboard and asked if he had cum. 

"hell yes!!!" came his speedy reply. 

I laughed, typing back, "That was fun!" 

He started typing, but then I realized it was going to become awkward again, if I didn't do something. 

"I better go get cleaned up," I said. "You gonna be around tomorrow?"


An Accident, The Internet, A Hotel Ch. 02



That first evening home with my husband Ryan was disconcerting, after spending the weekend with my son Mark, locked away in a hotel room. A struggle was taking place within my mind, racked with guilt for having not only slept with another man, but with my own son - our son, no less. When my husband and I had sex that Sunday night, I couldn't help but think of it as a form of penance, making up for the sin I had committed. But even though I knew I should feel more regret, a deeper sense of betrayal and guilt, as strange as it may seem, I didn't. The truth is, not only did I enjoy having sex with my son, but I also felt a greater bond with him, as a result. But I also felt no less love or devotion for Ryan. This is how I excused my actions, and the more often I repeated it, the more I came to believe it.

When Ryan was on top of me that night, I closed my eyes, wrapping my arms and legs around him, smiling as his wonderful cock filled me. My body was sore and tired, but I needed this. I needed him to take me; to remind me of what I had here at home and why I loved him so very much. And therein laid my problem: I was also sharing my body with another man, my son, but part of me felt as though there should be more guilt. And when there wasn't, I wasn't quite sure what to make of it. I loved Mark, as much as his father, and I wanted to share my body with him, as well. That's the only reason I could think of for this lack of remorse and shame.

Monday morning, after Ryan had left for work, I stood in the shower staring down at the floor, my hands behind my back and the water spraying against me, running down over my neck and shoulders and cascading over my breasts. I tried to make myself feel guilty. I kept asking myself, how could I be doing this with him? How could I have so willingly taken my son's seed into my body, the body that gave birth to him? I closed my eyes and very soon a hand drifted between my legs, as my mind meandered back to that Friday night. I was on my hands and knees, when Mark came from behind and quietly slipped his cock into me. And the cause of my utter shock wasn't simply in knowing my son was fucking me, but also in that I found myself enjoying it. I remembered how I rocked back against him, begging him to fuck me harder and empty himself in my body. And I remember how wonderful it felt; the intense tingling between my legs and throbbing inside my vagina, as his beautiful cock exploded within. A wonderful euphoria filled my mind, as Mark took me.

When I finally stepped out of the shower, I quickly dried myself and walked to the bedroom and gazed at the bed, the bed I shared with my husband. Not here, I thought. So I turned and dashed upstairs to Mark's room. I stepped inside and shut the door behind me, locking it. Then I slowly walked over to his bed and dropped the towel from around my body and lay down. I pulled his pillow under my head and closed my eyes, bending my knees upward and out. And for the next half hour, I masturbated thinking of my new lover. 

For the remainder of the day, I fought a losing battle. Every now and then, my mind would run out of control with thoughts of him, and I'd hurry to his room to relieve myself, quickly shedding myself of those lurid thoughts. But the more I did this, the more I wanted him; the more my mind wandered to thoughts of our weekend together and the anticipation of being with him once again. 

For the next two days, I didn't get online. I was too afraid to talk to him. Thoughts of Mark were taking over, and I felt as though I couldn't get anything done, as a result. I didn't need or want to exacerbate the problem by talking to him. But I was like an addict, hooked on a drug that I once thought I could control, but which was now controlling me. I thought I could keep a handle on my desires; that I could control myself and keep them in check. And when I finally convinced myself I could, the phone rang.

"It's for you."

I was in the kitchen washing dishes, having just finished dinner with my husband and daughter, when Ryan called to me. I wiped my hands on a dishtowel and walked out to the living room. Ryan was sitting on the couch, reading the newspaper and holding the phone up in one hand. As I stepped around the couch, he looked up at me and I quietly asked whom it was. He smiled, replying it was Mark. I felt the blood suddenly rush from my face and pool in my feet. 

"I'll, uh… take it in my study," I said. 

Ryan grinned and nodded. 

A minute later, I picked up the phone on my desk and, covering the mouthpiece, called out to the living room, letting him know I had it. I held the phone to my ear and heard a click, as Ryan hung up. My heart was pounding and I cleared my throat. 

"You there?" he said. 

"Yeah," I squeaked softly. "Right here."

There was a brief pause and he asked how I was. I glanced at my door and walked over, stretching the cord far, and gently used my foot to shut it. 

"Um… fine. I'm fine. How're you?"

Mark chuckled. "I'm alright. You don't sound fine," he replied. "Haven't seen ya online. Just wondered if you were ok." 

"Yeah… yeah, I'm fine. I'm ok. How're you doing?"

He laughed again. "Said I'm fine, ok?"

There was another pause, and then we both went to speak at the same time. 

"Sorry, you go 'head," I said timidly.

"Nah, go on," he replied. 

I smiled, turning to sit in my chair, and held the phone close to my ear with both hands. 

"I'm ok," I whispered. 

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

We were both silent for a moment, and then Mark spoke. 

"I miss you," he said softly. 

I closed my eyes and gripped the phone tightly, wrapping the cord around my hand, as my heart began throbbing again. Then I sighed into the phone.

"You… are you mad?" he asked. 

I smiled. "No," I said. "Not at all… I miss you, too."

Then I heard Mark breathing, the same sound I heard when he was on top of me not four days ago; the sound I came to cherish and desire. I bent over in my chair, breathing hard on my own. 

"I really wanna see you again," he mumbled almost seductively. 

I sucked in deeply through my nose and sighed. 

"God, I wanna see you, too," I whispered. 

We were both quiet and breathing hard, and, though separated by many miles, our hormones boiled to a fever pitch at just the sound of each other's voice. 

"Fuck," he sighed. "I'm so hard for you right now."

I put a hand between my legs and closed my knees tightly, breathing heavily. 

"… wish you were here," he mumbled softly. 

I pressed a finger against my vagina and moaned. 

"… you want me?" he asked.

My jaw hung open, as I envisioned him sitting in his chair at his desk, stroking his long hard cock for me; visions of my body dancing through his mind; visions of him fucking me. 

"… yeah…" I stuttered. 

"God, I'd love to slide my cock into you… cum inside that sexy body…"

"… Oh yeah," I sighed, scraping a finger between my legs against the fabric of my shorts, sending a gentle vibration to my vagina buried below. 

"When can I see you again?" he whispered.

"… God, I want you so bad…"

"When?" 

"… fuck… I want you right now…"

Suddenly there was a knock on my door. I shot upright, shaking nervously, as my door slowly opened. It was my daughter Rachel. 

"Hey, where's this go?" she asked, holding up a colander. 

I hastily held out my hand, pointing toward the kitchen, replying, "Oh, uh… just in the kitchen anywhere. I'll get it later. That's ok." Rachel stood there staring at me. "Well," she said. "Ok. But in the meantime, where's it go? I'll put it away." I sighed and heard Mark chuckle. I covered the mouthpiece of the phone and told her to put it in a cabinet above the sink. "Okey dokey," she replied and walked away. 

"Hey!" I called.

Rachel poked her head around the corner.

"Wanna shut my door, please?"

As she leaned in to close it, she sarcastically replied, "Oh… Well, don't let me interrupt you and your secret boyfriend." Then she laughed. I quietly whimpered, saying it was her brother on the phone. "Eew," she said with a disgusted look, as she swung the door closed. 

I took a deep breath and turned back to the phone. 

"Sorry," I said. 

Mark chuckled once again. "Who was that?" he asked.

"Rachel."

"Ah."

We were quiet for a moment, having been brought back to the reality of our illicit affair, and then Mark asked when I would be coming to see him again. I quickly glanced over my shoulder at the door, and then turned to face away from it, bending over and speaking softly. 

"I dunno," I said. "Um… Boy, I dunno."

"What about this weekend?"

I closed my eyes and tried to think. Did we have anything going on then? I pursed my lips, replying, "I dunno… Dunno if we're doing anything."

"Well," he said. "If you don't know, then you're not doing anything. That means you're free, right?"

God, I really wanted to see him again, but this soon? I usually only went to see him once a month. Twice was rare.

"It's kinda soon, don't ya think?" I said, more of a question than a statement of fact. 

He seemed to think about it for a moment. "Maybe not," he replied. "Maybe we can come up with an excuse." But then he quickly caught himself. "A reason," he said. 

An excuse. I didn't like the sound of that. It seemed to carry a certain implication. 

"Maybe I…" But then I hesitated, trying to think of something. "Is there anything going on there? Like a play or something? Something like that you could take me to?" 

Mark laughed. "You want me to take you on a date?"

I giggled nervously. "Yeah," I whispered softly. "You can do that, if ya want. I'd like that."

"Oh yeah?"

"… yeah…"

"You gonna wear something sexy and revealing?"

I smiled. "You want me to?"

"Sure," he said. Then as an afterthought added, "How 'bout no panties?"

I bit my lip and snickered, saying, "God, you're awful."

"And you're a sexy redheaded babe," he sneered. 

But before we could get too worked up again, I sat upright and told him I'd drive there Friday evening and plan to spend the night. I also reminded him that he had to come up with a reason for me to visit, and that he'd have to let me know what it was within the next day or two. Then he asked if I wanted to get a hotel room, and just the thought of being alone with him again sent a shiver up my spine. 

"Yeah," I whispered. 

He was quiet and softly said he couldn't wait to see me again. I closed my eyes and moaned into the phone. 

"I love you," he whispered, just before hanging up.

My body slowly rocked back and forth in the chair, as I sat thinking of us together. 

"I love you, too," I said. 

There was a click, as he hung up, but I sat there for a moment, possibly longer, still in a trance. When I opened my eyes, I set the phone on my desk and stood from the chair. I slowly walked out of my study, through the kitchen and past Rachel, and into the living room. Ryan was still sitting on the couch reading the newspaper. As I stood next to him, he turned his head and looked up at me. 

"So how's Mark?" he asked. 

"Fine," I said. 

Then he turned back to the paper. "Eh, that's good."

As he continued reading, I looked down at him, and then back over my shoulder into the kitchen where Rachel was still busy cleaning. Then I leaned down and whispered in Ryan's ear. He stared straight ahead, and then turned to me. 

"Now?" he said with a bewildered expression.

I grinned and nodded. 

He glanced over his shoulder, but I whispered she was still in the kitchen. Then I nudged my head toward our bedroom and smiled again. 

"C'mon," I said. 

With a surprised look on his face, he hesitated a moment, but then closed the newspaper and stood from the couch. I took his hand in mine and quietly led him back to our room. 

Inside, he shut the door, as I quickly walked over to the side of the bed. 

"So what's gotten into you all of a sudden?" he asked, coming up behind me. 

I unzipped my jeans and pushed them down, along with my panties, and got up on the bed, leaning over on my hands and knees. I peered over my shoulder and smiled. 

"Just need you to fuck me, I guess."

Ryan stepped up behind me, replying with a light chuckle, "I guess so." Then I heard him lower the zipper of his jeans.

A moment later, I felt the tip of his cock slithering around, trying to find my entrance. And when it did, he slipped easily into me and we both groaned. Only then did it dawn on me that he might be wondering why I was aroused, after getting off the phone so soon with our son. But as our bodies bounced together, his hands gripping my hips tightly, I decided in that moment it didn't matter. I didn't care if he wondered. And very soon thereafter, he pulled on me hard, burying his cock deep inside my body, and I felt that amazing ripple, as he ejaculated. 

On the surface, I convinced myself that doing this with Ryan was merely a way to express my love for him; no different than any other time we had sex. But what I ignored was my true motive: that talking to my son had sexually aroused me and Ryan's cock was a suitable surrogate. 

The following day, Mark met me online. Yes, there was a play showing at his school Friday evening, in fact all weekend. I told him to purchase two tickets and that I'd pick him up at his resident hall by 6pm so we could go out for dinner beforehand. He asked what I'd be wearing and I replied he'd have to wait and see. Then he asked if I wanted to have some fun with him online, while he had time before class. I was awfully tempted, but declined. 

"Aw, man," he whined. "C'mon! Just for a few minutes? Please?"

I laughed and said no. I told him I didn't even want him to be masturbating, when I wasn't around. 

"Why?" he asked, with an air of incredulity. 

"Because it's MINE!" I replied, laughing as I typed. 

So he grudgingly departed early for class with the promise he wouldn't touch himself. 

The following evening, I casually mentioned during dinner that Mark wanted to take me to a play Friday night. As Ryan ate, I looked to him to gauge a reaction. He chewed and slowly nodded and finally replied, "Sounds like fun." My heart soared, and I leaned over, giving him a hug. He chuckled, saying, "In that case, maybe he oughta take you out more often, if that's gonna be your reaction." I snickered, but in the dark recesses of my mind, the gears started turning. 

That night, just before going to bed, I called Mark on my cell phone from my study. 

"Hey," I whispered.

"Hey, was just gettin' ready to hit the sack."

I giggled, replying, "Mm, sounds like fun. Think I might have to join you… Friday night."

"Really?" he said excitedly. "You can come?"

I giggled again. "That sorta depends on you, sexy boy."

Mark growled into the phone and I laughed, as I walked over and peered out the door down the darkened hallway. Ryan had already gone to bed and Rachel was in her room. The house was dark and quiet. Then I carefully closed the door and walked over to my chair. As I sat down, I opened my robe, pushing a hand down the front of my panties. 

"So," I whispered. "Got a few minutes to spare?"

The next day was Friday and the hands on the clock couldn't turn fast enough. I frantically rushed around, getting my overnight bag ready, trying to remember one thing or the next. Rachel came home from school a short time after three o'clock. I tried to remain calm, as best I could, so as not to draw any unnecessary suspicion. I kept myself busy, trying not to stare at the clock, doing one odd job after the next. But by four-thirty, I couldn't take it any longer and retrieved my bag from the bedroom. As I slipped on my coat, I went to Rachel's room and told her I was leaving. 

"Already?" she asked. Then she looked at her clock. "It's not even five o'clock yet."

"I know," I said, buttoning my jacket. "Just wanna make sure we can go to dinner before the play."

Then Rachel slumped back in her chair. "Wish I could go," she mumbled. I sighed and stepped into her room. 

"I know, sweetie," I said. "Maybe next time, ok?"

She slowly nodded, but still looked saddened. I smiled and rubbed her shoulder. Rachel was eighteen and enjoyed being able to go out with her brother and I to the bars, even if she couldn't drink – something he and I rarely indulged in, as it was, neither of us caring much for alcohol. She was a young woman and anxious to start college the following fall.

I gave her a quick hug and kiss, and then went down to get my bag and headed out to the car. 

As I drove to Mark's school, I suddenly started having second thoughts about this. About all of it. About him and I. About having sex with him. Even flirting with him over the phone and online. I guess it's fair to say I was being selfish. Yes, I told myself, I was doing this because I loved him. Perhaps much more intimately than how a mother should, but it wasn't like I was in love with him. I didn't love him romantically. He was still my son, regardless of how sexually intimate we had become. He had a serious girlfriend and I was very much married and in love with my husband. But I also loved my son. Only now I loved him physically, as well as emotionally. I knew in the back of my mind that was a paltry excuse for what we were doing. We were having sex because it felt good; because we were sexually attracted to each other. I asked myself how that was any different, than if I was having an affair with another man? 

"Because he's not just another man," I muttered, as I drove. "He's my son and I love him."

And I truly believed that. I truly loved my husband, as well as my son, with all my heart and more. But now I was expressing that love for Mark sexually, the same as with Ryan. Now and again, that ugly word, incest, crept into my mind, but I shoved it away quickly. To me, it carried so many negative connotations, none of which applied to Mark and I. Neither of us felt forced to be doing this. We both wanted it. We enjoyed it; enjoyed the physical intimacy, as well as the stronger emotional bond that had grown between us. His girlfriend was amazingly beautiful. He didn't need sex from me. In fact, I knew they were having sex on a regular basis, because he told me as much. And when I thought of this, the ends of my lips curled up into a wry grin. I knew, because he told me, as he was fucking me. 

As I pulled in front of Mark's building, he was standing on the sidewalk waiting, his hands in his pockets and a bag slung over his shoulder. I came to a stop next to him and, as he walked to the car, began breathing rapidly and gripped the steering wheel nervously. Then he stepped inside. 

"Got here early," he said with a huff, bringing the seatbelt across his chest. Then he looked at me and I smiled from behind my sunglasses. "Get a room yet?" he asked. I put the car in gear and slowly pulled away, shaking my head. "Not yet."

Ten minutes later, Mark and I were walking down the hall of a hotel toward our room. With every step, my blood pumped harder and my nerves became more heightened. I don't know why I felt so on edge, but it felt good all the same. 

No key this time for the room; only a swipe card. I ran it through the doorknob and heard a soft thump, as the latch opened. With Mark standing close to me, I opened the door and stepped inside. No sooner had I stopped in front of the bed, than he was directly behind me, his body close to mine. As I carefully unbuttoned my jacket, I turned my head slightly and asked, almost in a shy voice, what he was doing. "This," he replied softly, placing his hands against my ass and squeezing gently. I closed my eyes and smiled, but stepped away with my bag. I removed my jacket, tossing it on the small table in the room, and grinned. 

"I'll be right back," I said, carrying my bag with me to the bathroom. 





An Accident, The Internet, A Hotel Ch. 02



A short time later, as I finished putting on my lipstick in front of the mirror, Mark called to me. 

"What're ya doin' in there?" he asked impatiently.

I smacked my lips together and closed my make up case. "Gettin' ready!" I called back.

"Well, hurry up!" he laughed. 

I stepped back from the mirror and turned from side to side, patting down my short black dress. Then, satisfied I was presentable to my date, I opened the bathroom door and turned off the light. 

"Geesh, you're in a hurry," I said. "It doesn't start 'til…"

And as I walked around the corner, there on the bed laid Mark, propped up against some pillows and naked from head to toe, stroking a very large erection. Instantly, I slapped a hand to my mouth and laughed out loud. He tried to smile, but looked more confused than anything else. 

"What?" he said. Then he seemed to notice how I was dressed. 

Still trying to stifle a laugh, I walked over to the side of the bed. With one hand on my hip, I gestured to him with the other, asking what he was doing. Mark blinked once or twice; as if I'd asked him the dumbest question he'd ever heard. 

"I, uh… Well," he replied. "I thought it was, you know… obvious why we came here?"

Then he held up both hands, implying it should be just as clear to me, as well. But instead, I only giggled. 

"C'mon," I said. "You're taking me to a play, remember? Besides, I'm hungry. Starving, in fact! So let's go. Get dressed." 

Mark sighed deeply and swung his legs down to the floor. As he rose from the bed, I stepped back, still fighting hard not to laugh at his expense. He went to walk over to his bag of clothes, but stopped and turned to look at me. I folded my arms, saying with a smirk, "What? What I do?" He grinned and came toward me with a phony menacing expression on his face. I laughed and held out my arms, backing away from him slowly and saying, "No! Mark, c'mon! Seriously, get dressed. I'm not kidding… I'm hungry…" And then my pleading turned to whining, as his rigid cock, pointing straight out toward me, came closer. I bumped into the wall behind me and giggled loudly. 

"Oh, shit," I snickered. 

Mark smiled and stopped just inches from me, his strong chest heaving. I glanced down at his cock and laughed nervously, pointing and asking what he was going to do with it. 

"What would you like me to do with it?" he sighed softly, placing his hands on either side of my head against the wall, trapping me in place and leaning down to kiss my lips.

As our tongues became intertwined, I carefully reached out between us, taking him in my hand, and slowly stroked him. Mark moaned, and then I simultaneously pushed his cock to the side and broke our kiss, quickly stepping out from under his arms. 

"I want you to get dressed," I replied with a broad grin, brushing the hair from my face and folding my arms defiantly. 

With his eyebrows held high, he turned and came to stand in front of me. I was still trying not to laugh, only gazing back with a soft smile. Then he put his hands on my shoulders and tried to ease me down to the floor.

"Mark," I pleaded once more. 

"Just suck me off, before we go," he whispered. 

I glanced down at his cock and reluctantly wrapped my fingers around him. A tiny glistening drop of clear fluid emerged from the tip.

"Saved it all week," he whispered, placing his hands on my breasts. 

As I stroked him, I looked up to his eyes. "Mark," I whispered. "C'mon… please? We'll do it when we get back. I promise." But he was persistent and pressed his hands down on my shoulders. I sighed and pulled away, sitting on the edge of the bed. 

"Not on the floor," I said in an exasperated tone, hooking my bangs behind my ears. "I don't wanna get all dirty for our date."

He turned his cock toward me and stepped closer. I reached out for him and took him in my hand, and when he was close enough, I closed my eyes and leaned forward, taking him into my mouth. 

As I bobbed on his cock, slurping and sucking loudly, Mark moaned and put his hands on either side of my head. Then he held me still and began fucking my mouth, bucking his hips slowly at first, and then working up to a more rapid tempo. I released my fingers from around his cock and gently cupped his testicles, carefully scraping their sensitive underside with my long fingernails. He moaned again and used both hands to pull my hair back behind my head, as he thrust in and out. Soon his breathing became labored, and I squeezed my fingers tightly around his genitals and pulled down, stretching them from his body.

"Aw fuck," he sighed. "Fuckin' sexy bitch… suck that cock."

I whimpered, as he pushed deep into my mouth, lodging the head of his engorged cock in the back of my throat. I gagged and tried to pull back. 

"Fuck," he groaned. "Here it comes… aw fuck, yeah… fuck yeah, you sexy bitch…"

Mark's cock suddenly swelled in my mouth and, with a loud grunt, began spraying his warm, viscous fluid down my throat. My cheeks hollowed inward, as I sucked hard and swallowed as fast as I could. But there was more semen than I could keep up with and it started drooling out the corners of my mouth. Not wanting to stain my dress, I pushed against his hips trying to pull out more of his cock, so I could keep pace with the torrent. And when, at last, it finally subsided, he loosened his grip on my head and gave a long satisfied sigh. His cock plopped out of my mouth, but I continued licking him clean, slurping and using my hand to milk the last ounce of cum from his body. He looked down at me and smiled. 

"God, I can't wait to fuck you tonight," he breathed heavily. 

Still licking his cock, I gave the head a quick flick with my tongue and sat back, trying to catch my breath and wiping my chin. 

"Can we go now?" I asked.

Mark chuckled and nodded, and then turned away to get his clothes. I followed him into the bathroom and, while he dressed, fixed my lipstick. I leaned in close to the mirror, carefully reapplying it, and glanced at his reflection.

"I don't want you calling me that," I said softly, as he buttoned his shirt. He looked in the mirror.

"What?" he said.

"That word you used. I don't like it."

He furled his eyebrows, as he tucked the shirttails into his trousers. "What word?"

I twisted the tube of lipstick shut and dropped it into my make up case. Then I turned and leaned against the counter, folding my arms.

"You know what word I mean. Don't play stupid."

Mark's head jittered from side to side and he shrugged, saying he still had no idea what I was talking about. I sighed softly, as I crossed one foot over the other, and then cleared my throat. "Bitch," I replied with heavy enunciation. 

He only smirked. "Oh," he said. "That word."

Then he stepped up next to me to brush his hair, and I moved to the side to give him more room. 

As he faced the mirror, and I away from it, I gazed down at the floor. "I don't like that word," I said. "I'm not a bitch, so don't call me that." He paused, turning his head slightly, and replied, "Well… actually, I called you a sexy bitch. There's a difference." I glanced at him, and then quickly looked away, shaking my head. "I don't care," I said. "I'm not a bitch. I don't care how you try to qualify it. I'm not a sexy bitch. I'm not your bitch. I'm not any kinda bitch. I'm a person. Not a sex toy." Mark slowly set his brush down and turned to lean against the counter next to me. He brought his arm around me and hugged me close. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "S'ok," I replied, still smarting from the unintentional insult. Then he leaned over and kissed just above my ear. "But you are sexy," he whispered. Without looking at him, I asked if that's how he thought of me; only in terms of my sexuality. "No," he said emphatically, stepping out to stand in front of me. "Of course not." Without looking at him, I asked why he was having sex with me then. When he didn't answer right away, I raised my eyes to his. "Because I let you?" I asked. He stood staring at me with a blank expression on his face, and then slowly shook his head. "No," he replied. "That's not it at all." But he continued staring at me, as I waited for him to further explain his reasoning. He was becoming uneasy and slipped his hands into his back pockets, seeming to search for the right words. "I… You know, I love you. Because I love you, that's why." Then his eyes shot back to mine, and he tried to turn the tables. "Why're you doing it?" he asked. But I was ready for this. I knew what my answer would be. I quickly brushed the hair from my face and folded my arms again. "Only because I love you," I replied. "I'm not doing it for the sex. I don't need it. I can have it any time I like at home. The only reason I'm doing this is because I love you and like being able to share myself with you. If I could love you this much and never be this intimate with you, I would. But, yeah, I do like the intimacy. But only because it's with someone I truly and genuinely love with all my heart." The expression on his face seemed to change very subtly, upon hearing my detailed answer. It was obvious I had put some serious thought into this. We looked at each other for a moment, and then I stood and walked to the door, turning off the light on my way out.

As I sat on the bed, fishing my high heels from my overnight bag, Mark came in and leaned against the credenza across from me. 

"I didn't mean anything by it," he said apologetically. 

I pushed my foot into a shoe and glanced up at him. 

"It was just a heat of the moment thing, ya know? No, I don't think you're a bitch. I don't think of you as a sex toy. Not at all."

As I brought my other foot up, slipping my shoe over it, I turned my eyes to him again. 

"Then act like it," I said, buckling the strap. 

I slowly stood from the bed and walked over to put on my jacket. Then I went over to Mark, reaching behind him to retrieve my purse, and walked to the door. 

"Ready?" I said, taking my car keys from my purse. 

Mark sighed deeply and grabbed his coat and followed me out the door. 

We were silent the entire way back to campus. I drove around trying to find a spot close enough to the theater building, but finally had to settle on a visitor's parking lot two blocks away. I stepped out of the car, and Mark came around to my side and held out his hand, helping me step over the short concrete bumper and onto the sidewalk. 

Just as during the drive there, we walked along in silence, though holding hands. When we came to a crosswalk, I felt his thumb rubbing against the top of my hand. I turned my head away, as if watching for traffic, and smiled. 

"What's that for?" I asked. 

Then the light turned green and we crossed the street.

"You," he mumbled.

"Me?" I asked, though in a way as to force him to extrapolate on his answer. "Why me?"

"Because I love you," he replied. 

I held onto his hand more tightly and asked him what he meant by that. 

"I dunno," he said. "I just do. I just love you."

"Well," I said, in a more motherly tone. "Ok, I believe you. But why do you love me? What is it you love?"

We walked a few more paces, while he thought of an answer. And this time I didn't mind. I wanted him to put some thought into it. 

"Because you're my mom," he said. 

"And…?"

"And… I dunno… I like being with you. Doing stuff with you." But then he quickly turned his head, adding, "And I don't mean just… you know… the sex stuff."

I blushed, looking straight ahead, as we continued hand in hand. 

"Ok," I said. "Go on. I'm listening."

"You're kinda funny sometimes," he said with a chuckle. 

I grinned wide. "Keep going," I said. 

He was quiet for a minute or so, and then said, "I kinda like how you smell in the morning." We came to a stop at the next intersection, and I looked up at him and laughed, asking what he thought I smelled like. 

"A cookie," he replied with another chuckle.

The light turned green and we crossed. 

"What kinda cookie?"

"Chocolate chip," he said. 

"Oh, ok," I snickered. "I guess that's good. I don't like oatmeal or sugar cookies."

Mark squeezed my hand. "Yeah, I know," he replied.

As we walked up the steps to the theater building, he jumped ahead to open the door for me. And as I walked in, thanking him, he softly said, "I think you're a really beautiful woman, too." 

Oh God… My heart instantly began pounding and my stomach tightened, when he uttered those magic words. 

For the next hour and a half, we sat in a less-than-crowded theater watching a student production. It wasn't the best play I'd ever seen, but it wasn't exactly the worst, either. What mattered was that Mark and I were together, doing something besides lusting for each other in a darkened hotel room. But about halfway through the play, he put his arm on the rest between us, and I reached over in the dark and placed his hand on my knee. Out of my peripheral vision, I could see him look at me. I kept my eyes on the stage, but gave him a warm smile. 

When the play ended, we followed the audience back outside into a warm spring evening. Mark and I walked along in silence, and then he put his arm around me. I smiled and leaned closer. When we were at last alone on the sidewalk, he suddenly stopped. I had taken a few stepped ahead of him and turned to see why he wasn't following. 

"What's the matter?" I asked. 

Mark had a devilish smile on his face and wiggled his finger for me to come closer. I grinned wide, asking why. "Just do it," he said in a low voice. I glanced around to make sure no one was nearby and stepped over to him. "What?" I whispered, still smiling up at him. Mark made one last look to make sure the coast was clear, and then took my hand and led me a short way down an alley. We walked far enough to find a very dark spot under the overhang of a garage, with two large bushes on either side of it, effectively hiding us from anyone's view that happened by. My heart was beating rapidly, as he gently pulled me close until I was leaning against his chest. 

"What?" I whispered softly. 

I discern a faint smile on Mark's face.

"You're beautiful," he said. And before I could reply, he leaned down and pressed his lips to mine. We kissed heavily for a few seconds, and then he pulled away. When I opened my eyes, he was still smiling. 

"There's so much I love about you," he whispered. "I just… I dunno… It's hard to explain."

I'm sure he couldn't see it, but I could feel my face blush. He pushed the hair from my eyes and said, "There's just something about you… I dunno what. But I like it. I like being with you. I… I like talking with you and doing things with you. When you're gone, I miss you. Even before all this… When you'd leave, I'd miss you so much."

I took a deep breath and sighed, rubbing my hands on his chest. 

"I swear, I never thought of you this way before any of this happened," he said plaintively. "I swear to God, I didn't." Then he placed his hands on my shoulders, squeezing them gently. He looked down between us at my hands clinging to his chest. "It's like that door being opened," he whispered. "Just like you said. I already liked you a lot. But not like… you know, in a sexual way. But then that door opened, and I thought… I dunno… I guess I thought, well… why not? You're fun to be around; fun to do stuff with. You're interesting and easy to talk to. You're just…" And then he raised his eyes to mine. "… so perfect," he whispered.

I stared into his dark eyes, and then lifted myself on my toes and carefully pushed my tongue into his mouth, bringing my arms tightly around him. 

A short time later, we were back in the car. As I started the engine, Mark asked where I wanted to go for dinner. "Let's just hit the drive-thru," I said with a broad smile. 

As we sat in the car, having placed our orders, I pulled to the next window to pay and get our food. While the young man behind the window filled our drinks, I turned to Mark, and then burst out into loud laughter. He was just sitting there, casually staring straight ahead, but when he turned to see what I was laughing about, I only laughed harder. 

"What?" he replied, wholly bewildered. 

I pointed to his face, covering my mouth with one hand. Mark shook his head and shrugged. "What's so funny?" he asked. 

He had lipstick smeared all over his mouth. 

While he used a napkin to scrub his face, I drove us back to the hotel. 

Back in our room, we ate in silence on the bed, though quickly, and occasionally glanced at each other with a knowing smile. I finished first and jumped from the bed, grabbing my overnight bag and dashing to the bathroom. Inside, I quickly stripped out of my dress and pulled a light pink set of lingerie and white stockings from the bag. A few minutes later, I was dressed and checked my hair one last time in the mirror. Then I turned and opened the bathroom door, flipping off the light. 

"Ready?" I asked nervously from the doorway. 

The lights in the room had been turned down low. 

"Yeah," replied Mark softly. 

I slowly stepped around the corner, and when we saw each other, we both smiled wide. I felt giddy and excited, my knees trembling. Mark was kneeling on the bed wearing only a pair of dark blue boxers. As I moved toward him, his eyes traveled up and down my body. 

"Damn," he mumbled under his breath, grinning from ear to ear. 

"You like it?" I asked anxiously, running my hands tenuously along my torso.

Mark continued grinning and nodded almost effortlessly. 

"Yeah," he whispered.

I giggled nervously and climbed onto the bed, scooting up to him and placing my hands on his bare chest, running my fingers all around and feeling his muscles. He moved closer still and began kissing my shoulders, working his way to my neck. And when his lips found mine, I reached into his shorts and found his long erection. 

As I stroked him, he kissed down my neck to my chest where he gently eased down one of the cups of my bra holding a small breast inside. And when his lips took hold of a soft pink nipple, I sighed and squeezed his cock. 

In short order, we were soon undressing each other, groping and fondling, caressing and exploring the other's body. Mark put his hand under my arms and lifted me until I was standing before him, as he kneeled in front of me. Then he pressed his mouth to my vagina. It was the first time he'd made love to me there. I parted my knees and carefully pulled his face in deeper, moaning happily as his tongue lapped at me, sending wonderful shivers up my spine and causing the hair on the back of my neck to stand on end. After what seemed like an eternity of oral pleasure, he released me and had me turn in place. Then I felt a hand on my back bending me over at the waist. As I leaned forward, I put my hands on my knees and flipped the hair from my face, looking over my shoulder. Mark placed his hands on either side of my ass and parted my cheeks. I closed my eyes and smiled, and soon felt his tongue slithering into my depths, running his tongue and lips over my most private and sensitive areas once more. 

It wasn't long before our carnal desires had us worked to a fever pitch and we were groaning and sighing, licking and kissing, running our mouths and hands over every part of our bodies. We lay on the bed, our legs and arms entangled, writhing in sexual bliss, as we pleasured one another. I was on my back, my head lolling from side to side and my hand gripping his cock, tugging on it to the point where I knew it must have caused him some discomfort, but not caring; only concentrating on the intense oral stimulation he was giving me, as he lay next to me with his head draped over my abdomen and his mouth latched firmly to my clit. 

I continued pulling hard on the warm cock in my hand, moaning and sighing, saying his name softly over and over. Then, whether from any pain my hand may have been causing or the need to have his own genitals tended, he brought his leg over my chest and carefully moved back until his cock was hovering directly above my mouth. I'd never been in this position with my husband; him on top. I groaned happily at discovering yet one more patch of uncharted sexual territory with my son and, with my eyes still closed, lifted my hand and fumbled about until I at last had hold of his wonderful manhood. I opened my mouth wide and pulled it in, lapping and sucking hungrily, drinking his warm musky nectar. 




An Accident, The Internet, A Hotel Ch. 02



Soon Mark's moans were coming more rapidly, and I knew his orgasm was imminent, as was mine. I quickly pulled him from my mouth, gasping for him to roll over. He did and leaned back on his elbows, breathing hard, his chest rising and falling sharply, his cock pointing straight up and very rigid, very tense. I moved back to the head of the bed, bringing several pillows behind me and bending my knees upward, spreading my legs. Then I smiled and held my hand out for him. Wearily, Mark sat up and came to me, kneeling between my legs. In my upright position, I could see clearly between us. He moved closer and began rubbing his cock against my vagina, up and down, causing me to wince whenever it came into contact with my clit. Mark seemed to notice this, and then sat back on his haunches, pulling away slightly. 

"Wanna try something a little different?"

I looked up and he was smiling, still holding his cock in his hand. 

"What?" I gasped softly, eager to have him inside my body. 

He moved closer and took my hands in his, placing them near my vagina. Then he took my index fingers and guided them into my opening. I giggled and asked what he was doing. 

"Just put the tips of your fingers inside… yeah, like that. Now pull yourself open a little."

I was breathing hard, but chuckled and asked why. 

"Just wanna try something different," he said with a grin. 

Curious as to what he had in mind, I complied, sliding just the tips of my two fingers inside my vaginal canal, up to the first knuckle, and pulled myself open. I felt a little awkward being in this position in front of him, even a little embarrassed to be doing this; holding myself open in such a personal and intimate manner. It made me feel as if I were offering myself to him. Offering my body; my heart and soul. Placing my entire being before him as a sacrifice. 

Mark moved closer until just the very tip of his cock was in front of the gaping dark hole between my legs. 

"Can you see it ok?" he asked. 

I lifted my head, peering down between us. My heart was racing, eager to discover what he was doing to me. I nervously shook my head. 

"No," I said. 

Then I quickly turned to the lamp next to the bed. "Turn it on," I said, nudging my head in its direction. Mark reached over, stretching far, and clicked it on. We both winced, as the bright light suddenly filled the room, and I became very conscious of the position my body was in. 

I was leaning back against the head of the bed, almost in a sitting position, my torso propped up. With my legs spread wide and feet dangling in the air, I used my index fingers to stretch my vaginal canal open. Mark held his cock so that it was pointed directly at the opening between my legs. A lump formed in my throat, and in the back of my mind I began having apprehensions. This wasn't about sex. This was becoming more like a ritual; a sacramental air surrounding it and the bed had become an altar. The feelings I had been suppressing, about engaging in incest with my son; feelings which I kept tightly bottled up, now suddenly detonated in a tumultuous fury. And just as suddenly, I didn't want to do this. I wanted to get dressed and flee; to run away and forget any of this had ever happened. I wanted to go home, back to my normal life as a wife and mother. 

But I couldn't. I couldn't and watched nervously, mesmerized as my son slowly and methodically began stroking his cock, keeping the head aimed directly where I held myself open for him. I slowly turned my gaze upwards to his face. His eyes were closed and his lips formed into a tight circle, his cheeks puffing slightly in and out as he breathed. I started trembling. I was scared. This was a turning point in our relationship. The sex we had been engaging in before was merely physical, but this was wholly different. This was a shift in the paradigm surrounding us. He wasn't going to ejaculate on me, as part of some silly sexual antic. He was going to purposefully direct his semen into me. Whether he realized it or not, his deliberate act had greater meaning behind it. When we had sex and he was inside of me, his ejaculation was simply a consequence of our bodies coming together and being stimulated; something we could only feel, but never actually see. This, however, wasn't an overt sex act, and he was only stimulating himself in order to eject his semen; merely a preliminary procedure as part of a greater ceremonial act. Mark may not have recognized the significance in this, but it wasn't lost upon me.

I closed my eyes tightly, as sweat rolled down my forehead. I felt cold and clammy and my body shivered. "Oh God," I thought. "This is it. This is going to change everything about us forever." 

"Open you eyes," he whispered hoarsely. 

I clenched my teeth and slowly shook my head from side to side, whimpering softly. 

I could hear his breathing, slow and deep, and he said it again. This time I complied, though reluctantly, doing as my lover asked. There was a subtle hint of a smile on his face. 

"Watch," he said, and turned his eyes downward between us. 

Very nervously, I craned my neck forward, looking down. The tip of his cock was less than an inch from where I held myself open. His hand was making long slow strokes along the length of his cock. And on the last stroke, he brought his hand to the base and held it very still. I could see his body trembling, and he was breathing quickly. 

In a very low growl, I heard him grumble.

"… ahhh… Jesus…"

My heart nearly stopped, as I watched a long stream of pure white semen jump from the tip of his penis like an arrow straight into my body. I gasped, not at the physical sensation, though I could feel and hear it, but at what I was seeing, what was happening to us; what we were doing.

Then, just as quickly, the stream stopped. Mark's breathing came quickly, as he tried to catch his breath. I looked up at his face, but he told me to keep watching. I turned my eyes down again and he grunted once more, sending another thick white stream into me. I whimpered, as it entered my body, but did nothing to stop it. I didn't want to. I gave in, surrendering not only to our sexual desires, but our primordial cravings. Mark was making me his own; his property, and I was letting him. I wanted this.

Mark gripped his cock tightly and held his head back, his mouth hanging open and the muscles and veins in his neck straining, as he fought to control his ejaculation. 

"Aw fuck!" he cried out. 

Another powerful stream shot into me, and I pulled my fingers wider apart, stretching the sensitive skin of my vagina almost to the point of pain. 

On the verge of tears, I whimpered again, as he filled me. 

"… oh my God," I whispered softly, as I witnessed my son physically transform our relationship.

Mark slowly lowered his head and opened his eyes, staring down at me. He swayed back and forth, looking as though he were physically and emotionally drained, body and spirit. 

My jaw hung down, as we looked at each other. 

"…oh fuck," I sighed, my voice quivering. "What did you do to me?" 

I could feel his warm semen pooled just inside the mouth of my vagina.

I was trembling from head to toe, and he only gave me an exhausted, almost sleepy, smile in reply. Then he put his hands on my hips and pulled me closer. His cock entered my body and I felt the semen he deposited inside bubble out around it. With my hips lifted off the bed, he held me tightly to his body and began slowly bucking against me. My arms flopped over my head and I gave myself to him completely. Mark pulled on me, lurching his cock deep with each thrust, as I hung limply like a rag doll and let him flail my body. Then I felt his hands leave my hips and slide up to my breasts. I could have ended this all by letting my body fall from his cock, but instead I put my feet firmly on the mattress and held myself up, keeping us locked together. 

I was in full compliance and the ceremony was complete. 

We fucked wildly on the bed, grunting and crying out in pain and pleasure. Mark filled me time and again, never stopping, never withdrawing from my body. This wasn't about sex. It wasn't about any ephemeral and spurious notion of emotional bonding, which I had foolishly deluded myself into believing. It wasn't even about the real reason for why we started doing this in the first place: that we both enjoyed sex, not caring that it came by way of an incestuous relationship. Mark was no longer my son, nor I his mother. All of that was swept away now. We had become, in the strictest sense of the words, soul mates. And it was acknowledged when he called me by name.

I was on my hands and knees; my hair tousled and hanging in sweat-stained strips around my face and neck. Mark laid atop me, as he squat on his feet from behind, his cock deeply assaulting my body, and his arms wrapped tightly around my torso, his head on mine. As I held up the weight of our bodies, my arms trembled. I could feel his body sliding off of mine, as we were both coated in a thick layer of sweat and bodily fluids, and he'd push himself back up with his feet, keeping his body firmly mounted on mine. Mark was squeezing my breasts tightly, and with each thrust of his cock, he'd grunt in my ear and I'd whimper, partly in pain, but mostly in knowing he found pleasure in taking me this way. I belonged to him. 

"Oh, fuck, I'm in love with you, Amanda," he groaned, licking my ear. 

I closed my eyes tightly and winced. My lungs were burning, as I gasped for air, straining to keep myself from collapsing under our combined weight. My throat was dry and my voice cracked. 

"Oh my God," I growled, pushing my ass back to meet his every thrust. "Ahhh… fuck… I love you, too."

And then he held his cock deep inside me and ejaculated; cementing the bond we had created. 

My arms finally gave out and I fell to the bed with Mark on top of me, hugging me closely and professing his love. 

The next thing I remember is hearing Mark say my name.

"Amanda."

I stirred in my sleep.

"Hey… wake up."

I slowly turned my head and opened my eyes. Daylight filled the room and Mark was lying next to me, propping his head upon his elbow and smiling. He reached over and gently ran the back of his hand across my cheek. 

"What time is it?" I groaned, squinting my eyes and shading them with my hand. 

Mark glanced over his shoulder at the clock on the nightstand. 

"Almost ten thirty," he whispered. 

I closed my eyes and groaned, pulling a pillow over my head. 

"God… lemme sleep a while longer."

"You're supposed to go home this morning," he said. 

I groaned again. 

"Call home for me," I moaned. 

"What do I say?"

"… Mmm… anything… I don't care…"

The bed jostled slightly, as he rolled off. 

The next thing I felt was Mark shaking my shoulder. 

"Hey, sleepy," he whispered. 

With my eyes still closed, I slowly regained consciousness and a small grin curled my lips. I rolled onto my back, stretching my arms far above my head, and opened my eyes, squinting up at Mark. He smiled and I closed my eyes and yawned. As he rolled off the mattress to stand, I opened my eyes and watched him walk around to the foot of the bed. He smiled and reached down to poke my foot.

"Get up, lazy," he said.

I stretched my arms and legs, pointing my toes straight out at him, and moaned happily. Then I let my body suddenly relax, like a stretched rubber band, flopping my hands onto my stomach with a huff. 

"I don't wanna," I said with a defiant smile and stuck out my tongue. 

Mark slowly leaned down and grabbed hold of my ankles. I grinned, thinking he was going to rub my legs, but instead he gripped them firmly and pulled me across the bed, letting my feet fall to the floor. I squealed as my hair splayed out behind me, and then Mark bent down to take my hand. He helped me sit up, and then sat on the bed next to me. I draped an arm around his shoulders and laid my head against him with a sigh. 

"I'm tired," I said softly, turning to look up at him. I batted my eyelashes and he leaned down to kiss me. I opened my mouth, accepting his tongue, and closed my lips around it and sucked gently. We sighed and snickered and very soon the kiss broke. 

"You taste good in the morning," I whispered.

Mark chuckled.

"What do I taste like?"

"A cookie."

He laughed again and planted a few tepid kisses on my forehead.

"Help me to the bathroom," I said, resting my hand on his shoulder for support. 

As we hobbled along, I snatched my shower kit off the credenza. 

Inside the bathroom, as I sat on the toilet to relieve myself, Mark turned on the shower for me. He held his hand under the spray, adjusting its warmth, while I watched. When I finished, I asked if it was ready. 

"Yeah," he said. "I think so. See if ya like it."

I stuck my hand in and nodded, and then stepped inside. Mark went over to the toilet and dropped the seat and sat down. I stood under the soothing warm water, holding my head back and running my hands through my hair, soaking it thoroughly. When I opened my eyes, I saw Mark sitting there watching me. 

"You gonna get in?" I asked. 

He shook his head. "Nope. Took one already."

I picked up my bottle of shampoo and squirt a generous glob in my hand. 

"Why?" I exclaimed. "You shoulda waited for me."

"You were asleep," he replied. 

"Still shoulda waited," I said, pushing out my lower lip and pouting. 

After a short time, Mark finally spoke and said, in a matter of fact manner, that I had a nice figure. As I propped my foot on the edge of the tub and ran a washcloth over my leg, I glanced at him and smiled. 

"Seriously," he said. "You really do. I think you have the body of someone…"

I looked at him with a raised eyebrow. 

"Half my age?" I said sternly. 

He chuckled. "Nah," he replied. "Really, though. I think you look more like you're… I dunno… twenty-something?" 

I rose up and gave him a smile satisfactory to his answer, and then turned toward the spray to rinse off. Then I reached down for my razor and shaved my legs. As I neared my vagina, Mark blithely asked me to shave my pubic hair off. I stopped and raised my eyes to him. He was wearing only the slightest impression of a grin. And the way he said it, it was less of a request and more of a desire on his part. I glanced between my legs at the small orange triangular patch I had always kept there for Ryan. He liked it that way; something to tickle his nose, when he went down on me, or play with as we lay in bed and he ran his hands over my body. At some point, his fingers would find their way between my legs, and he'd gently comb them through my pubic hair, occasionally pausing to pluck softly at them. I'd lay there naked on the bed, my arms held over my head, and sigh, enjoying the tender sensations. It was his little way of expressing his love for me. Not necessarily trying to sexually arouse me, but make my body feel good all the same. 

I glanced at Mark and, without hesitation, pointed to my shower kit. 

"See if I have some scissors in there," I said.

He leaned to the bathroom counter and pulled the kit closer, peering inside. Then he reached in and retrieved the small scissors and handed them to me. I moved out from under the shower and closer to Mark, perhaps a subconscious maneuver on my part so my lover could watch as I proved my devotion to him. I carefully pulled out tufts of bright orange hair and began clipping them away, letting them sprinkle down to the bottom of the tub. Soon all that was left was fine stubble. I handed Mark the scissors and he set them on the counter. Then I reached down for the soap and lathered myself, and then used the razor to remove the remaining hair. I placed my foot on the edge of the tub and spread my legs wide so Mark could see my act of submission to his will. When I was finished, I turned to the shower and rinsed myself, holding my waist out under the water, brushing away the residual soap and hair. Then I turned back to my lover, placing my foot once more on the edge of the tub and ran a hand between my legs, smiling at him. 

"How's it look?" I asked. 

He slipped off the toilet to the floor, kneeling in front of me, and picked up my razor. He examined me closely, running his fingers up and down, looking for rough spots to smooth down. He'd pinch the fleshy skin and stretch it far, carefully gliding the razor over it. When he was satisfied, he sat back and smiled. 

"Turn around," he said, twirling his finger. 

I did and looked over my shoulder at him. 

"Bend over and spread your feet."

I complied, putting my hands on my knees and pushing my ass out toward him. He moved closer and placed his hands on either side of my ass, opening it wide. 

"Reach back and spread your ass for me," he said. 

Once more, I did as he requested, and felt him place the razor close to my anus. I took a nervous breath.

"Careful," I whispered. Then I closed my eyes, as he removed the remaining symbolic outward trappings I had for my husband. 

When he was done, Mark smiled up at me, and then leaned in, pushing his tongue flat against me and dragging it up between my legs. I closed my eyes and grinned, cooing softly.

A short time later, I was sitting on the bed putting on my socks. We talked about what we wanted to do that day, but first on the agenda was lunch. We were famished. And, when we were both presentable to the world, we grabbed our jackets and headed for the car, walking hand in hand. 

In the brief few minutes it took us to reach the parking lot, it suddenly dawned on me that, earlier in the morning, when Mark tried to wake me the first time, he called me by my first name. Then I remembered how he had done the same thing that night, as we consummated our new relationship. The only reason it struck me as odd was that it felt so good, and I wondered why he hadn't done it sooner. 

Mark and Amanda. 

I liked the sound of that. 

Over lunch we chatted and laughed, talking about one thing or another. It was as if everything was back to normal, the way it had once been, when I was still his mother. I didn't feel like that any more, though. Instead, I felt as though I was his girlfriend. And the more thought I put into it, the more I wanted to assume that role; the more I liked the idea and wanted him to be my boyfriend. 

For the remainder of the day, we walked around the mall, did a little shopping, browsed for a long time through a bookstore, enjoying each other's company. We held hands and stole fleeting kisses when we could. With books in our hands, opened and studying them and standing aside one another, we'd occasionally rub shoulders playfully and snicker. I felt full of energy and so very much alive with him, something I hadn't felt in a long time. I hadn't felt like this since I first met his father. And though the thought of Ryan should have returned my senses, instead it only cast a brief shadow over my heart. Not because I felt any sense of remorse or guilt, but rather I wanted my thoughts to be solely of Mark, my lover. 

"What'd you tell 'im, when you called this morning?" I asked, as we sat on a bench inside the mall, sharing a large slushy drink. Mark swirled the straw around and said he told him I wasn't feeling well and would probably stay the night again. "And what'd he say?" I asked, not that I cared, as I had already made up my mind to stay. Mark shrugged and handed me the cup. "Said ok." I brought the straw between my lips and glanced up at him with a soft smile. 

"Him": that's how I now thought of Ryan. Not as my husband, though I knew it was true. And not as Mark's father. But simply as "him", someone I knew; an acquaintance. I didn't have any ill feelings toward Ryan, and I did still love him, but the truth of the matter is, I now loved Mark more. In fact, there were now three things making me feel closer him than I ever had to Ryan: a deepened sense of love, beyond the parental or amorous; a physical lust for one another and fervid desire to entice and tease our bodies into orgasm; and the incestuous relationship we now shared and an equally passionate disregard for it. 




An Accident, The Internet, A Hotel Ch. 02



All of this surfaced and mollified that night. There was something about what he did, having me watch as he ejaculated into body. Mark was only doing as he stated: trying something a bit out of the ordinary and without ulterior motives, though he had no idea how deeply it would cut into me. It was as if we had gone through a rite of passage: a transition from one phase of life to another. I knew all along that we were having sex for no more reason than because it felt good. I knew it was wrong and morally repugnant. Yet we did it because we were curious and aroused and for no other reason. I showed him my body over the Internet because I wanted him to sexually desire me. I had intercourse with him because it felt good. A door had been inadvertently opened and we should have closed it, but we didn't. Mark was a young man and, like most men his age, his brain is constantly urging him to breed. Ryan was the only man I'd ever had sex with, and I enjoyed it, but over the years it had become routine. I missed the excitement and thrill of making love to someone for the very first time. And Mark, with his heightened sense of sexual fervor, willingly provided this. There's so much more to sex than simple physical stimulation. A great deal of it is deeply phrenic; a mental state of being. And not only was Mark someone new for me, a change from what I had ever since I was eighteen, but there was also the exhilaration of breaking the rules; of throwing caution to the wind and daring to make love to someone strictly forbidden and knowing, at least believing, we would never be caught. And after the first time he filled me with his seed, I didn't care if we were. When I took his cock into my mouth, I was simultaneously sickened by my own foul actions, yet highly aroused by the indifference I felt. When Mark gave me his gift of semen, I knew he felt the same about me. I was actually pleased I had been able to help him overcome his most base instinct to reject me, his mother, as a mate. Before last night, he and I had been little more than naïve lovers, sneaking away behind the woodshed to show each other our bodies, snickering and sometimes reaching out to steal a quick touch and elicit a petty sigh. But it was entirely physical and superficial. We tried to fool ourselves into believing it was part of some noble scheme to deepen the bond between mother and child, but that was a blatant lie. That notion now lay in ruin. Then we pushed the lie far enough until it blinded us and we fell into the abyss, where we were carried away by the torrential force of our own selfish, carnal desires, tapping into something more primeval, and brute-forcing our way through the natural barrier separating parent and offspring. When Mark ejaculated into me last night and I watched, that barrier was shattered. Before that act, we had been mother and son, but by intentionally inseminating me, both of us watching him try to fertilize my womb and breed with me, we crossed the line, destroying what Evolution had spent eons creating. And the more time I spent with my new mate, the more my instincts desired him to mount me. 

Though I came to understand all of this, knowing full well that the path Mark and I traversed could become treacherous, I simply didn't care. My lover was all that mattered to me now. 

Toward evening, after stopping to get a bite to eat, Mark and I returned to our room. I went into the bathroom to undress and, just as I had removed my jeans, heard him ask if he could use my cell phone. I said sure and pushed my panties down my legs, tossing them outside the door atop my jeans crumpled on the floor. Then I walked out of the bathroom, while unbuttoning my blouse. 

"Who ya callin'?" I asked, as Mark sat on the bed, leaning back against the headboard. 

He poked at the keys on the phone. "Beth," he replied.

Instantly, I felt a surge of anger course through me. Not at him, but at the sound of her name: the person also vying for the affection of my lover. 

"Hey," he said happily, when she answered. 

My lips quivered, as I slowly walked to the bed. Mark glanced at me and winked. I climbed onto the mattress and straddled his legs, as he continued talking to her. My blouse hung open loosely, as I began fumbling with his belt. Then he chuckled, as they talked. In the back of my mind, I growled angrily, as the bitch stole his affection right in front of me; stole emotions and feelings I felt were rightfully mine and not hers. My hands worked quickly, pulling his belt away and throwing it over my shoulder. Then I fumbled with his zipper and, when I finally had it open, sat up on my knees and jerked his jeans down, yanking them off his legs and hurtling them across the room. Then I wildly pulled my arms from my blouse and threw it away, as well.

"Aw, I miss you, too," he said in a sickeningly pathetic voice. 

I leaned down, grabbing the waistband of his underwear, and shot my eyes to him and glared. But Mark only smiled and winked again. 

"… fucking whore," I mumbled softly, nearly ripping his boxer shorts off. 

But when I saw his cock standing straight up and gently swaying, I knew he was mine. I knew where his true thoughts lie. 

I moved forward until I was poised directly over his shaft. Then I reached down and grabbed it, lowering myself and roughly rubbing him against my bald wet slit. And when we were both lubricated enough for penetration, I thrust my body down onto him. Mark's mouth slowly opened and his eyelids fluttered. An evil grin curled my lips, as I thought to myself, the bitch could talk to him all she liked, but his body, his heart and soul, belonged to me now. 

I rested my hands on his abdomen and began humping against him, grunting and snarling my lips. In short time, my mind was filled with that highly addictive euphoria, and I began breathing harder, as my body undulated. I looked down at my lover and could see the same effect occurring in him. His eyes were half closed and he struggled to continue talking to his whore. Then he slowly raised his free hand, drunkenly reaching out for my chest. I leaned forward so he could touch me. The tips of his fingers slipped under the straps of my bra and pushed them over my shoulders, and then with great effort pulled the cups down, revealing my breasts. As I worked my body on his cock, I could feel them wobble and bounce, as rivulets of sweat raced down my head and neck. And when his fingers began pinching and twisting my sensitive nipples, I grimaced and smiled at the same time, moaning softly. 

Mark's eyes were closed now. "I gotta go," he muttered, straining to keep his voice from revealing the unholy mating ritual he was engaging in with his mother. Then he snapped the phone shut and dropped his arms out to the side, as I continued to ride him. 

For the remainder of the night, we followed this simple theme. We had sex, rested, and had sex again. Late into the night, we finally fell apart, wholly exhausted. While Mark slept on the bed, I dragged my aching body to the bathroom. I flipped on the light and quickly covered my eyes, stepping over to the toilet. A minute later, I stood and flushed and went to the sink. My entire being, body and mind, felt thoroughly depleted. Every movement of my muscles seemed to require Herculean effort. I turned on the faucet and leaned down, splashing water over my face. Then I rested my hands on either side of the bowl and stared down at the swirling water. Everything had changed. Everything I knew was different now. My life, my relationship with my son and husband; it was all being smelted and recast. But still, I managed to smile and closed my eyes, reveling in this new life Mark and I had forged together.

I slowly trudged out to the bed where my lover awaited. Climbing onto the mattress, I carefully took his flaccid penis into my hand, as he slept. It was beautiful; a tool, an entire being; my consummate lover, which I had created and given birth to. Nothing governed the love and passion we felt for one another any more. 

That Sunday morning, while my husband and daughter were attending mass, I kneeled before the bed that served as our altar and took my son's body into mine, worshipping his magnificent cock. 

But the time came when I had to leave, and doing so was almost unbearable, nearly more than I could endure. I sniffed back my tears on the way home; back to what I felt was a drab existence. I had to go back to him, and Mark had to return to her. I knew, at some point during our separation, she would kiss him. She'd take what I felt was rightfully mine and mine alone. She had no idea, of course, but I didn't care; I blamed her all the same. And I worried what Mark would be thinking, when he held her in his arms at night. Would he share a bed with her? Enter her body, as he did mine? Would he fill her with the same exuberance I had felt so many times, whenever he took me? Before I left, I swore to my lover that I wouldn't have sex with my husband. But when I finally arrived home, when I saw my husband outside working in the yard, my heart sank. I still loved him passionately and perhaps more so now. Coming home was like stepping out of a thick fog, and now I could see clearly once again. 

Mark and I were lovers now. I came to accept this. The only I guilt I felt was in not feeling enough of it. Ryan and I still made love, but I could never leave him. Not even for my son and lover. Over time, I slowly accepted that what Mark and I were engaging in wasn't quite what we initially thought it would be, what we attempted to trick ourselves into believing. Both of us wanted this and we had no desire to stop. We would meet now and then to stoke the flames of passion between us, and then we would tacitly return to our other lives. And very slowly, those lives were going back to the way they had once been, before we started our sexual relationship. I'd visit him once a month, we'd go to a movie, to dinner, engage in some otherwise platonic social activity, and then we'd return to my room and have sex. Then we would go to sleep and I'd leave in the morning. The passion had toned down considerably, leaving only the simple act of copulation behind. To us, it became no different, than if we were merely engaging in some otherwise benign activity together.

By the following December, things had finally returned to what I felt to be an even keel. Rachel was now in college, attending the same school as her brother, so when I went to visit, I did so for both of them. And, as a result, Mark and I spent less time alone and being intimate. Eventually, our sexual relationship began to peter out. When they did occur, our encounters were usually brief and sporadic. And by the time the school year came to an end, and Rachel moved back home for the summer, it was almost embarrassing for me to think of what Mark and I had done only a year before; flirting with each other over the phone and via email, not to mention our sexual liaisons.

I did feel closer to him, however. A deeper emotional bond had been created, though only by default, rather than being an actual contrivance on our part. We did once talk about what we had done, and what we continued to do from time to time. It had become one of those things we tried hard not to openly acknowledge. When we had sex, we didn't pause to consider whether or not we should. We simply did and that was the end of it. But that one conversation helped alleviate some lingering tension hanging between us. 

Summer had ended and Rachel moved back to the resident halls and the start of a new school year. In early September, I drove up to visit them. Mark and I hadn't been sexually intimate in nearly five months. The strong desire that had once driven us to excesses of passion was now beginning to strongly wane. 

Mark and I were sitting in a restaurant one Saturday night, while Rachel was out with her boyfriend, which gave us time to be alone. 

"So," he asked, dropping his napkin to the table with a smile. "What'd ya wanna do tonight?"

I sat staring at my cup, poking my straw through the floating ice, and shrugged.

"I dunno," I replied. "Up to you, I guess."

"Wanna rent a movie?"

I shrugged again. "Sure."

After paying the bill, we walked out to my car and drove to a video rental shop. A short time later, we went back to Mark's apartment. 

We walked into the living room and he turned on the lights, while I unzipped my coat and tossed it on a chair. Then I plopped down on the couch with a huff, as Mark started the video. He turned around with a happy smile, but when he saw me just staring at the television, it slowly faded.

"Something wrong?" he asked. 

I glanced up and blinked. 

"Hmm?"

He gestured to me, as he stepped over to the couch. "You," he said, as he sat down. "Something the matter?" I leaned forward to the coffee table in front of me and picked up the remote control, clicking off the television. 

"You alright?" he asked.

"Yeah," I sighed. "I guess."

Mark chuckled, replying, "What's that mean?"

I tossed the remote to the side and turned to face him. Mark grinned and I couldn't help but do so in kind. 

"I take it Beth isn't around?" I asked.

Mark shook his head. "Nah," he said, crossing one leg over the other. "She's home for the weekend. She'll be back tomorrow, though. Sometime in the afternoon."

I nodded and let my gaze drift across the room. 

"You want me to spend the night?" I asked quietly. 

After a short pause, he said it was up to me. 

I looked back and gave him a hesitant smile. He inched a little closer and I let my eyes fall to the empty space between us, placing my hand on his thigh. Mark's arm was resting on the back of the couch around me, and I moved slightly closer to him. And when we were sitting side by side, our bodies touching, I felt his hand behind my head gently stroking my hair. I rubbed his leg, squeezing it softly, and glanced up at him. He smiled and I turned away with a blush, embarrassed at being this intimate with him. 

From the corner of my vision, I could see him leaning closer. I grinned, taking a nervous breath, and slowly turned to face him. Mark laid his hand against the back of my head and brought me slowly to his lips. I closed my eyes, and when our tongues met, my apprehensions faded. 

We kissed lightly at first, but soon we were rubbing our mouths together, our tongues dancing and our breathing coming with greater effort. When we finally parted, we both sat back. I cleared my throat, holding a hand to my mouth, and smiled, as my face turned red. 

"Wanna skip the movie?" he whispered.

My chest rose high, as I took a deep breath, and jerked my head up and down. Mark took my hand in his, helping me to my feet, and led me to his bedroom. Inside, he locked the door behind us and went over to his stereo. As the soft music played in the dark room, he turned and smiled, and then sat on the bed, removing his shoes. I glanced down at my blouse and slowly began unbuttoning it. In short order, Mark was sitting on the edge of his bed nude and waiting for me. I reached back to unclasp my bra, letting it fall down my arms, and then pushed my panties down my legs. With my clothes on the floor around my feet, I stepped over to him, standing between his legs, and smiled. Mark carefully ran his hands over my chest, and I placed mine on his shoulders, moving a bit closer to him. He leaned in and began kissing my body, his hands on my waist, as he traced his tongue over my skin. I closed my eyes and sighed happily.

After a few minutes, we traded positions, and I sat on the edge of the bed, while Mark kneeled in front of me. He lavished my breasts with kisses, gently nipping at my sensitive nipples, and then carefully laid me back. I held my torso up on my elbows and watched, as he kissed my stomach, slowly working his way down. And when his tongue found my vagina, desperately aching to feel his warm breath, I closed my eyes and let my head fall behind my shoulders, pulling my knees back and spreading myself open for him. 

When I finally felt the first subtle hint of an orgasm approaching, I carefully pushed Mark's mouth from between my legs, where he had been softly nursing on my clit. It was becoming more stimulation than I could take. Breathing heavily and smiling, I crawled back onto the mattress with my legs apart and held my hands out to him, inviting him between them to fill me. 

Mark and I made love for a long time that night, though there was a very subtle difference in the ambience this time. It had been quite a while since we were last intimate like this, and the long sabbatical seemed to give me pause to reconsider the sexual nature of our relationship. I was glad that the passion was gone. It was tearing me apart inside, to not be with Mark as often as I liked, as often as I felt I needed. The romantic inklings I had developed for him long ago were now merely discomfiting shadows wafting in the deep recesses of my memories. And now, as he lay atop my body, thrusting his penis into me, his head buried against my neck, grunting and breathing heavily, I only held my legs out wide and hugged him, occasionally stroking my hand over his head. I long time before, I would have wrapped my arms and legs tightly around him, crying out his name and professing my undying love for my son and lover, contracting my vaginal walls around his cock, milking him and trying to entice a powerful ejaculation. 

Mark's body tensed, and he held himself deep inside me. I closed my eyes and smiled, and then felt his seed enter my body. He grunted and gave a few quick involuntary thrusts. When his body relaxed and the heavy stream of semen ceased, I opened my eyes and sighed, patting his back and lightly kissing his head, as he caught his breath.

"That was nice," I whispered. 

Mark slowly rolled off me and lay to the side, tossing one hand over his head. I turned onto my side, resting my head against my elbow and watched him. When his eyes finally opened, he glanced at me and smiled. I gave him a small grin in reply. 

"Felt nice," I said again, placing my hand on his chest. 

With a groan and some effort, he rolled over to face me, doing as I had and resting his head against his elbow.

"Did you cum?" he asked. 

I slowly shook my head. "No," I whispered with a slight smile. Mark went to speak, ostensibly to apologize, but I patted his chest again. 

"It's ok," I said.

After a few moments of silence, we both went to speak at the same time. 

"Sorry," he said. "Go 'head."

I took a deep breath and looked away, trying to figure out how I was going to tell him this. I glanced at him and he smiled. 

"Mark," I said, taking his hand in mine. "Dad and I… we wanna have a baby."

He had a blank expression on his face, but very quickly a broad grin spread across it. I smiled, too, somewhat relieved that he was taking it well thus far. 

"Really?"

I nodded. 

"Wow," he muttered. "So… when? When you guys, you know… when do you wanna have it?"

"Soon," I whispered. 

Mark slowly nodded. 

I looked down at our hands between us and told him I had to go off the pill. What he didn't know was that I wanted to use this as a means to end what should never have started.

"We won't be able to…"

I glanced at him, and then, after a moment of thinking about it, Mark slowly blinked and nodded. 

"Yeah," he said. "It's ok. Only makes sense." 

And for the second time, I sighed in relief. Telling him was one thing, but how he would react was something else. I was afraid he might suggest we use some form of contraceptive. But he hadn't and that relieved a great burden that had been weighing us both down for so long. Now we could end our sexual relationship somewhat gracefully and with no ill feelings toward one another. 

"When ya going off the pill?" he asked. 




An Accident, The Internet, A Hotel Ch. 02



"Tomorrow," I replied. 

He slowly pulled his hand from mine and brought it to my chest, where he traced his fingers lightly around my breast. I pulled my arm back, gently pushing myself out to him. And when his fingers found my erect nipple, Mark carefully rolled it between his fingers. 

"What time are you leaving in the morning?"

I closed my eyes, enjoying the gentle stimulation. Then I smiled and sighed, replying, "Dunno… I should probably get home early… maybe sometime before noon."

As we lay side by side, I reached under the blanket and found his cock. I slowly stroked him until he was hard once again, and then he rolled on top of me and slowly eased himself into my body. I knew this might be the last time for us, so I wrapped my arms and legs around him tightly. And when our mutual orgasms struck, we kissed wildly, confessing our love for each other. 

In the morning, we showered together, dressed, and had a quick breakfast in his kitchen. As I put on my coat, Mark stood by his door waiting for me. With my overnight bag in hand, I slowly walked over and smiled up at him. 

"Well," I said with a sigh, holding my hands together in front of me. I was at a loss for words and stood there staring at his chest, then let my eyes fall to the floor and the empty space between us. His feet took a step forward, and when I looked up, he leaned down and kissed me. I opened my mouth to accept his tongue, and while we kissed, I felt his hand cup my breast and gently squeeze it. I giggled and pulled back slightly, and then, just to tease him, I reached out with my hand and placed it between his legs. And when I found that he had an erection, I chuckled and pulled my hand back.

"You're bad," I said with a snort, smiling up at him. 

Mark smirked, replying, "So? Not like I can help it, ya know."

I rolled my eyes and looked away. "Whatever," I said. 

Then he reached down and began unbuckling my jeans. I laughed, holding my hands out to the side, and looked down. 

"What're ya doin'?" I chuckled.

When my belt was loose and fly open, Mark carefully pushed my jeans down a bit, then went to work on his. A minute later, he was holding his erect cock in his hand. 

"Hold your panties down," he whispered heavily. 

I quickly glanced behind me, and then leaned back against the wall. Mark took a step forward and, as I hooked my thumbs under the band of my panties, holding it down and exposing my vagina for him, he aimed his cock downward and began stroking himself. After a minute or two, his chest started rising and falling sharply, as he approached orgasm. My own breathing was becoming labored, and I pushed my hips out so the tip of his penis was rubbing against me. Mark groaned and stopped masturbating, and then gently pushed his cock between my legs and began ejaculating across the outer lips of my vagina. 

"Oh, fuck," I sighed, as I watched him flood my panties with semen.

As he pushed his cock back into his boxers and zipped his jeans, I let my panties close and felt his warm sperm soak through my pubic hair. Then I pulled up my own jeans and buckled my belt. I reached down for my bag on the floor and stepped toward the door. Mark came over and opened it for me, and then leaned down to give me a soft kiss on the cheek. 

"See ya later," he said. 

As I walked out into the hallway, I glanced over my shoulder and waved, forcing a smile. Somehow, I felt as though this were another turning point in our new relationship, quite possibly the end. 

A few weeks later, I was pregnant with Ryan's child; a girl as it would turn out. During the next year, not long after I gave birth, Mark called home one day to let us know he had proposed to his girlfriend Beth. He and I hadn't been together in all that time. Ryan and I were both very happy for him, but deep down in my heart, though I knew this time would eventually come, I still felt an obligatory sadness. For a very brief time, not long after we became lovers, I had fantasized about being with Mark; being his lover, his girlfriend, even his wife. I played over in my mind, so many times, what it would be like to live with him and be in a romantic relationship with him. But that would never happen now, and, to be honest, I was glad. Perhaps I did love him more than a mother should, but that's water under the bridge and our actions couldn't be retracted. 

In a sense, the new emotional bond we had created, by sleeping with one another, did bring us closer and allowed us to talk about things that we otherwise couldn't. Marriage isn't always easy and those first few years can be difficult. And so it was with Mark and Beth. They loved each other dearly, but now they were living together and trying to start a family, running into all those initial bumps and jolts any blossoming relationship encounters. So, from time to time, Mark would call and we'd talk. 

A few years later, Rachel graduated from college and married her boyfriend. And, although they moved out of state, Mark and his wife lived only two hours away. Now it was just Ryan, myself, and our four year old daughter Anne left at home. 

When Anne had her sixth birthday, Mark stopped by for her party. He was traveling on business, but wanted to come home and see his little sister. During the party, Mark and I would occasionally glance at each other and smile. But all parties have to come to an end, and very soon this one did. Ryan and another parent, there with their child, had the kids pile into two cars and took them to a movie. When at last everyone was out the door, I closed it and turned to see Mark sitting on the couch. 

I walked around, picking up paper plates and plastic forks and cups, and he sat up to help me. We carried everything into the kitchen, disposing of it in the trashcan. As I stood at the sink washing cups, I felt a pair of hands on my waist. Startled, I jumped slightly.

"Sorry," chuckled Mark. 

My hands began trembling, as I stared down into the sink at the swirling water. Then I felt Mark's hand on my neck, pulling my hair back. And when I felt his warm breath against my skin, I closed my eyes. Then he kissed me. It was the first time in nearly six years. I turned around in his arms and looked up at him. Mark stood upright and stepped back, as I nervously wiped my hands on a dishtowel. He pursed his lips, putting his hands in his back pockets and quietly apologized. I shook my head, laying the towel on the counter beside me. 

"No," I whispered, as I cleared my throat. "It's… it's ok. Just… sorta took me by surprise, is all."

I glanced at the clock on the wall, and then to Mark, giving him a nervous smile. Then I turned back to the sink and shut the water off. I stood there for a moment, my heart racing, and then slowly unsnapped my jeans. I pushed them and my panties down my hips and leaned forward, pushing my ass out toward him. 

I waited, staring down into the sink, and after a few seconds, sensed him move up behind me. That's when I felt him. Mark was rubbing his cock up and down my wet slit. I sighed, closing my eyes and smiling. And when he pushed into me, we both groaned softly. As I pushed back against him, he pulled on my hips, and after a few gentle thrusts, I felt him erupt inside me. When he finished ejaculating, he leaned against my back and kissed my neck, whispering my name.

"God, I've missed you, Amanda."

As he continued to gently stroke his cock in and out of my body, my jaw dropped and I moaned. 

"I've always loved you," I whispered.

Then he slowly withdrew from my body. I reached down and pulled up my panties and jeans, while he zipped himself up. When I turned to face him, it was almost as if nothing had happened. He was standing there with a smile on his face, as he had been just moments before. I grinned, not sure what to say, and cleared my throat, asking when he had to leave. Mark looked at his watch. 

"Oh shit," he said. "Yeah, I should get going."

We walked out to the living room and he picked up his coat, slinging his arms into it. I followed him to the door, and as he went to walk out, he stopped and leaned down, giving me a soft kiss on the cheek. I blushed and folded my arms and asked if he and Beth and their kids would be coming to visit soon. Mark smiled and nodded, saying they would and he'd call to let me know when. And as he stepped out onto the porch, he turned to me, fumbling with his keys, and asked if I was ever free in the afternoons. I smirked, replying I could probably find time for him. 

About six months later, his family moved closer and Mark and I resumed our previous relationship that had been put on hold. We didn't always have sex, in fact it was actually rare, but when we did, it was always wonderful and passionate and merely an expression of our love for one another. 



An Accident, The Internet, A Hotel



"Fuck I came hard!!!" he said in his message. Then he quickly replied to mine, asking what time I would be online the next day. I wrote back saying probably the same time, and he said that would work for him, too. 

"See ya then!" I said, waving to the camera. 

"Bye!"

Then I blew him a kiss and logged out. 

God, I couldn't believe I'd just masturbated with my son. Then I chuckled and shook my head, thinking it wasn't exactly the first time for that. But I also felt a sense of relief. It wasn't so bad, what we did. It wasn't as though we didn't know what we were doing this time. In fact, in a way, it almost made me feel a little closer to him, as though our relationship had expanded. Not so much changed, as it was more modified. I almost felt elated. 

The next morning, I rushed around the bedroom, trying to find something a bit sexier to wear for him. I found a lacey push-up bra and a pair of pink thongs with only a tiny triangular patch of fabric covering my vagina. Over this I wore my usual shorts and t-shirt, and then headed down to my office in the house. 

I had my camera on, while I waited for him, and then he arrived. My heart began racing and my knees wobbled. We chatted briefly, but we both knew why we were there. I asked if he was ready to have fun again, to which he replied with an enthusiastic "Hell yes!!" This time, however, I was more deliberate in removing my clothing. I'd take off my shirt and let the image of my breasts, the nipples just poking up over the edge of the bra, get him excited. Then I had him beg me to remove it, as well as my shorts and panties. To be honest, I was just as eager to get naked as he was for me to do so. And when I was completely nude in my chair, we chatted for a few minutes. 

"Can you lick your nipples?" he asked. 

I chuckled and looked up at the camera atop my monitor, rolling my eyes. He laughed, but then I sat back and scooped up one of my breasts and tried to lean down and lick it. I'm only a decent B cup, so there isn't much leeway for such carnal acrobatics as that, but I managed to get close enough. 

"That's REALLY sexy!!" he exclaimed happily. 

I laughed, replying, "Well, either my tongue isn't long enough or my boobs aren't quite big enough for that!" 

"You have really cute boobs!" he said. 

I smirked, saying, "Oh? They're just 'cute'? Gee, thanks. :P" Then I glanced up at the camera and stuck out my tongue. Mark laughed once again and said he thought they were sexy. "That's better," I typed with a chuckle. 

I let one hand drop between my legs, and then asked if he was getting hard. 

"Been hard for a while!!" he said. 

"Mmm," I replied. "Wish I could see that! ;)"

"Me, too."

Just then, my stomach fluttered. The words simply came out on their own, but now that I thought about it, I really wasn't opposed to the idea. My fingers slipped across my wet clit, sending a gentle spark through my body. I closed my eyes and sighed. When I opened them, Mark had sent me a message.

"Is your pussy wet?"

I looked up at the camera and nodded, smiling dreamily. Then I brought my hand to my mouth and licked my fingers. 

"How's it taste?" he asked. 

"Mmm," I replied. "Delicious!"

"You like tasting yourself?"

Once more, I looked at the camera and grinned, licking my fingers seductively for him.

And as I continued to play with myself, his next message nearly made me erupt into an orgasm.

"I'd love to taste you," he said. 

I slumped back in my chair and groaned loudly, spreading my legs wide. I was getting closer to orgasm and, in my delirium, asked if he would have rather had me suck him off that night, instead of using my hand?

"YESSS!!!!" he exclaimed.

Teetering on the brink of orgasm and barely capable of typing, I hastily replied, "I'd love to feel you cum in my mouth." Then, just before it struck home, I added, "I'd swallow for you."

That's when my orgasm took over. I managed to have a moment of clarity in thought, and quickly reached for my mouse, clicking on the sound, allowing Mark to hear me in the throws of passion, as well as watch me. 

I moaned loudly, humping against both my hands, one fingering myself deeply while the other stimulated my clit. 

"Oh fuck," I cried. "...oh fuck, I'm cumming!" 

I opened my eyes just in time to see Mark say he was cumming, as well. I smiled and threw my head back, holding my legs out wide so he could get the best possible view. 

When my orgasm finally subsided, I sat in the chair with my arms hanging down to the side limp and my legs straight out. 

"Fuck!" came a message from him. "That was HOT!"

I managed a weak grin and tried to raise my hand to wave. Then I sat up and, with much effort, pulled my chair to the desk. Just as I started typing, Mark sent me a message.

"Is your pussy all red and wet?"

I chuckled and glanced up at the camera, giving him a wicked smile.

"Wanna see for yourself?" I asked. 

"YES" he replied eagerly. 

I stood from my chair and took a step back, and then reached for the camera, trying to hold it steady, as I brought it down. I moved my chair to the side and put one leg on the seat, slowly bringing the camera down and angling it up so he could get a good view between my legs. With my free hand, I spread myself open for him. 

"Fuck, that is sexy as hell."

With the camera still down there, I slipped my index finger inside me and held myself open for him. 

"Shit that is smoking hot," he said. 

I carefully raised the camera, setting it atop the monitor, and then looked directly at it and smiled, sticking my index finger in my mouth and swirling my tongue around it. Then, once again without any forethought, I typed, "Bet you wish that was your hot cock inside me, huh?" I hit send, and then remembered to whom I had said that. 

"... oh damn..." I mumbled. 

To my relief, Mark only winked in reply. Still, I felt like perhaps I'd gone a bit too far in saying that in our little online game. After all, to me, that's what this was: nothing more than a silly role-playing excursion. However, in saying that, I added a bit more realism, and perhaps even sincerity, to it. 

We chatted for a few more minutes, though it was rather cute when he asked me not to put my clothes back on so soon afterwards. God, I felt like a high school girl all over again. I bit my finger and giggled and asked him why? 

"Cuz you look sexy like that!" he said. 

"Ya think so?" I asked coyly. 

"Hell yes!"

"Alright," I replied. "Maybe I'll sit here in the buff for ya. How'd that suit ya?" 

"Just great!" he said. 

So we talked for a short time, and once in a while, I'd let one of my hands slide across my breast, pausing for a moment to pull on the nipple, keeping it nice and erect for my audience of one. 

Before our little session of erotic fun ended, he once again complimented me on my looks. I couldn't help but blush and thanked him. 

Later while I was taking a shower, I had an idea. I got out and dried off, and went down to find our digital camera. Every now and then, I'd take a few pictures for my husband and send them to him at work; just a little something to brighten his day. Sometimes I was naked or partially so, and other times they would merely be pictures of me clothed around the house. I decided to send Mark a few. 

I had a closet full of different types of lingerie, so I took pictures of me in several of them, also in various stages of undress. After I had filled up the camera, I took it down to my office and uploaded them to my computer, and then emailed a few to him. A couple hours later, while checking my mail, I got a reply from Mark about my pictures. 

"What a sexy redheaded babe! :D"

I giggled and blushed, and then sent him a few more and said thanks for the nice compliment. 

For about the next two weeks, we'd make it a habit of meeting online at certain times of the day to have fun. And our conversations grew progressively more explicit, until we were finally talking about what we wanted to do with the other person. But it almost always reached its crescendo once we hit orgasm. After that, it petered out quite a bit. That sort of became the unwritten rule of our game: leading up to and during orgasm, you could say whatever you like, but afterwards, we toned it down a lot more; things went back to normal. And it got to the point where, in a way, as odd as it may seem, I really didn't think of it as my son on the other end, but just this really sexy guy I knew. And another strange benefit was that it made me much more sexually aroused by the time my husband got home from work. I already had quite a libido, but doing this with Mark seemed to amplify it. My husband and I had a very active sex life, as it was, but this was like giving it a shot of adrenaline. There were times when I couldn't wait for him to come to bed and fuck me. And there were also times when I didn't wait. Once he stepped inside the house, I'd drag him to the bedroom and throw myself at him. He never complained, either. 

One day, after getting off with Mark, I was putting my bra back on, when he asked if I was coming for a visit soon. I tried to make it a habit of going at least once a month, and it was about that time again. 

"Sure!" I chirped happily. Then I had to think about it. It was one thing to play this game online with someone, but something else entirely to actually meet face-to-face. Not that I ever had or would, but my weekend visits were fairly routine. I enjoyed them, often looking forward to them, and I kept telling myself that I didn't want this game to adversely affect our relationship. If I didn't go, that's what would happen. He and I would both know the reason I wasn't coming to visit. And, eventually, he'd be coming home at some point, whether for a holiday or weekend trip of his own. I'd have to bite the bullet on this one. The ball was in my court and I'd have to act. If I wanted to maintain some semblance of normalcy, then I'd have to force it in that direction, something that at one time, before we started engaging in this behavior, had come naturally. 

The following Saturday afternoon, I drove up to Mark's school. The entire way there, I was a bundle of nerves. How would we react upon seeing each other, given what we had been doing? Though it had bothered me terribly, from the beginning, what I had done with my own son nearly a month ago in his room, I also came to enjoy this new aspect of our relationship that had suddenly blossomed out of it. But it didn't simply come to fruition of its own accord. The seed may have been inadvertently sown, but a great deal of conscious effort on both sides had gone into enriching and propagating it. Although I was scared to see him in person, part of me was also excited about it; excited about the possibilities. But I tried not to think on it. I just knew, the more I dwelled on it, the more likely I'd turn around and go home. So I rationalized going on the basis of maintaining our relationship, but deep down, I also knew I had an ulterior motive. To be on the safe side, however, before driving to his resident hall, I stopped at a hotel I occasionally stayed, and got myself a room for the night, then drove over to see Mark.

I parked on the street across from his building and walked inside. The entire way to his room, I felt light-headed and my stomach was a churning and twisting knot. By the time I knocked on his door, my palms were sweaty. When he opened the door and greeted me with a broad smile, I wanted to vomit. Thankfully, I didn't, though it felt like a very distinct possibility. 

"Hey!" he exclaimed happily, gesturing for me to come in. I smiled and stepped inside, wringing my hands nervously and trying to look normal and happy. When he shut the door behind me, I whirled around. Something about the sound of the door shutting seemed very definitive, like the start of a new chapter in a book. 

Mark went to his tiny dorm room refrigerator and pulled out two sodas, offering me one. I took it and sat on the edge of his bed, while he pulled the chair out from his desk. I took a sip and glanced at him, smiling. He opened his can and grinned in reply. As he held the can to his mouth, my eyes drifted behind him to his desk. His computer sat directly behind him; the same instrument by which we had engaged in numerous taboo acts. I also knew that inside that computer were dozens of pictures of me nude and sexually pleasuring myself; pictures I had taken exclusively for him. Pictures I had hoped would sexually arouse him, my own son. I felt my face turning red and quickly looked away, letting my eyes roam around his room. 

"So, what's the plan?" he asked, breaking the long silence. 

I rotated the can of soda between my fingers, staring down at it, and shrugged. "Dunno," I replied. "Guess it's up to you." I brought the can to my lips and took a sip, glancing at him from the corner of my eye. He smiled, saying he was up for anything. I couldn't bear another uncomfortable silence, so I asked if he wanted to see a movie. It was that, and then we went to dinner afterwards. 

Hours later, as we walked out of the restaurant, the sun was just now setting below the horizon. The evening was still young, and Mark asked if I wanted to do anything else. I stood next to him, with my arms folded on my chest and shrugged. 

"Ok," I stammered softly. 

"Wanna go play some pool?" he asked. 

I shrugged and nodded. I wasn't very good at it, but enjoyed it all the same. And it would keep us busy; keep us moving, avoiding those awkward moments of silence where our minds could dwell more easily on who it was we were with and what kind of relationship we now had with that person; that is to say, a rather intimate one. 

We walked to a nearby bar and went inside, finding a pool table far in the back. Near the front of the place was a dance floor, quite empty given the early nature of the evening. But as time passed and daylight gave way to night, more and more college kids entered and soon the bar was crowded to capacity, loud and smelling of beer, cigarettes, and sexually charged appetites. Mark and I shared a single glass of beer, though I never really cared for the taste of that beverage. Still, it served to loosen me up, and very soon we were both laughing and enjoying each other's company as usual, as though nothing had ever changed. And when the last ball on the table had been sunk, we set our cues up on the rack and made our way to front of the bar.

I tugged on Mark's sleeve and he bent down.

"Wanna dance?" I nearly yelled in his ear, given the intense volume of lively chatter and music going on all around us. He smiled and nodded, so I grabbed him by the hand and pulled him through the crowd to the dance floor. Young men and women were moving wildly about, and very quickly Mark and I joined in. 

The heavy thumping of the music always had a hypnotic effect on me, and I soon found my mind drifting in that direction. Mark and I danced very closely, given that the dance floor was small and quite crowded. Our bodies rubbed against one another and, as the music carried me away, I became less inhibited, slithering my torso against him and letting my hands roam up and down his body. With his hands on my waist, I rotated my body between them, facing away from him, and ground my ass against his groin. To my delight, I thought I could feel him pressing back into me. Then I wiggled downward against him and he kept his hands in the same position, though now moving up my body as I descended. I stopped when he was cupping my breasts and grinned in the dark, putting my hands atop his and giving them a gentle squeeze. And when I arose, he kept his hands there. I once more rotated my body so I was facing him and placed my arms on his shoulders, smiling up at him. Then I put one leg between his and slowly started grinding down against it. In the darkness, I thought I could see him smiling. 

I don't know how long we were out there dancing, but it seemed like quite a while. I'd never danced like that with him before, and it felt exhilarating to do so for the first time. And like those young people hopping around me and dancing to the music, the erotic atmosphere was sexually charging me. 

I reached up for Mark's collar and pulled him down to my face. Merely by accident, our faces were nearly touching, our lips very close. We both smiled and I leaned in toward his ear and asked if he wanted to leave. He leaned back and nodded. I grinned and took him by the hand, making our way out of the crowded bar. 

Outside, in the cool night air, we walked back to my car, our arms around each other. I was feeling good, very good. And very sexually aroused. My mind began racing, thinking of the possibilities that lay before me now. But the clock was ticking. I had to make up my mind what would happen next, by the time we got to the car. I would either take him back to his room, dropping him off, or drive us back to my hotel. Once more, I was beginning to sweat and became a bundle of nerves. 

As we stepped into the car and shut our doors, I started the engine. "Where to now?" he asked. I pulled out onto the street and drove up to the next intersection. The light was red. When it turned green, I had to make a decision: turn right and take him to his room or left and back to my hotel room. My fingers gripped the steering wheel tightly and I glanced at him. Mark smiled and I grinned sheepishly in reply, quickly looking forward again. The light turned green. 

"So?" he asked. "Where ya wanna go next?"

The car behind us honked, bringing me back to my senses. I stepped on the gas and made a left hand turn. 

Neither of us spoke, as I drove to the hotel. He knew I stayed there sometimes and he probably knew why I was driving in that direction. In the back of my mind, I was hoping he wasn't wondering why I was taking him with me. 

My room was on the first floor, the door facing out toward the parking lot. I parked in front of my room and we both exited the car in silence. Standing by the door, I fumbled momentarily with the key and finally managed to open it. As I stepped inside and set my wallet on the credenza, a sudden thought flashed through my mind: would he know to lock the door behind us? Or would he even do so? I didn't want to turn around and look, so I quickly went to my overnight bag and set it upon the bed, opening it. Mark quietly sat down on the edge of the bed next to me, while I fumbled around inside my bag, doing nothing in particular, simply trying to keep my hands otherwise occupied while I tried to think of what to do next. 

Mark leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together, as he watched. 

"Whatcha doin'?" he asked. 

My hands began trembling, but thankfully they were buried inside my bag, so he couldn't see them. 

"Gonna take a quick shower," I mumbled, my voice cracking. 

So now that I knew what I wanted to do next, I forced my hands to search for my bath items. That's when I felt something against my leg. The trembling in my hands had now ascended to my arms. Without making it obvious, I glanced to the side and saw Mark's arm extended. It was him. He was touching me. He slowly ran his hand up and down my leg. 

"This ok?" he whispered very softly. 

My eyes quickly darted back to the bag, and my head jerked up and down. "Mm hm," I squeaked nervously. 

I felt his hand slowly rise up the back of my leg under my short skirt. Higher it went until he was gently cupping the cheek of my ass. And when I felt his fingers squeeze softly, an involuntary sigh slipped past my lips. I quickly fished my bath stuff from the bag and glanced down at him. 

"I'll be right back," I stammered, and made my way to the bathroom. 

Inside, I set my soap and shampoo on the bathroom counter and began undressing. I looked up and saw the door still open. Should I close it? I didn't bother. I was in a hurry to get in the shower and hide. I unzipped my skirt and let it fall to the floor, and then pushed my panties down to join it. As I held my chin against my chest, watching my hands fumble with the buttons of my blouse, I noticed a movement behind me. I looked up and saw Mark's reflection in the mirror. He was standing behind me in the doorway. I quickly grinned sheepishly and looked down at my hands, still working the buttons.




An Accident, The Internet, A Hotel



"Can I come in?" he asked. 

I could only nod. 

I felt him come up behind me and, when my blouse was finally loosened, he helped me take it off, laying it on the counter. 

"Thanks," I mumbled. Then I reached back to unclasp my bra, but felt Mark's hands already there. 

"I'll get it," he said softly. 

I dropped my hands, placing them on the counter in front of me, and tried not to watch his reflection in the mirror, as he removed my bra. He pushed the straps over my shoulders and it fell down my arms. When my breasts came into view, I saw his eyes in the mirror staring at them. I blushed and quickly turned and stepped over to the shower, reaching inside to turn on the water. 

Behind me, I could sense more movement, but was too frightened to look. I knew he was probably undressing. I stood there with my arms folded on my chest, waiting for the water to warm, but I couldn't keep standing there with him behind me, so I pulled back the curtain and stepped inside, closing it quickly. The water was still a bit too cool, so I stood there holding my hands under the spray waiting for it to heat up. I looked at the curtain and could see Mark's dark image. I watched as he bent over, apparently pushing down his jeans. Then I saw him step out of them, pulling them off his legs. His hands went to his waist and pushed his underwear down. A lump formed in my throat and I swallowed hard. His murky gray image was moving again, this time toward the shower. I stepped under the shower and held my head up in the water, nervously running my hands over my face. 

Suddenly, I felt a pair of hands on my waist. I jumped, still hiding my face in the water.

"Sorry," he chuckled. 

"S'ok," I replied. 

His hands began to move around to the front of my body and, in a quivering voice, I asked if he could hand me the soap. He released me and turned back to reach down for it on the edge of the tub. I glanced over my shoulder and saw him behind me, completely naked. And when he rose up, I quickly turned back to the water. Instead of handing the bar to me, Mark reached his hands around in front and rolled it between them under the water, building up a heavy lather. Then he placed his soapy hands on my shoulders and began washing my body. 

He moved across my shoulders to my neck, and I held my chin down, allowing him greater access. I closed my eyes, and felt his warm hands moving around my back, over my shoulder blades, down further to my waist, and finally to cup my ass in his hands. He started gently kneading my cheeks, and I felt myself begin to relax. And when he slipped a hand deep between my legs, pulling his fingers up between my cheeks, I sighed and pushed back against him. I was going to let him do whatever he liked. 

He lathered up his hands again and this time reached around to the front of my body. I lifted my elbows, allowing his hands unimpeded access. I turned my eyes downward and watched as he gently manipulated my breasts, massaging them and carefully teasing the nipples. God, it felt heavenly. After a few moments of that, he let one hand slowly drift down my body. I laid my head back against him, knowing full well his next destination. And when his fingers curled around my vagina, my mouth opened and I sighed loudly. 

"This ok?" he whispered in my ear.

I nodded happily, as his fingers gently slipped through my folds.

"How's it feel?" he asked. 

"...wonderful..." I sighed. 

I brought one of my hands up to his on my breast and placed the other atop his between my legs. Together we manipulated my body in unison. Mark stepped closer and I felt something hard pushing against my ass. My heart fluttered. It was his cock. With his hand still between my legs, I used mine to carefully guide one of his fingers into me. When he knew what I wanted, he took over and slipped the long digit into my body. I groaned, grinding my hips down upon our hands. Then I felt him kissing my neck. I opened my eyes and carefully turned around in his arms. When our eyes met, I smiled and could feel my face turning red from embarrassment. Not only was I showering with my son, but I was also allowing him to touch my body in such a sexually explicit manner, and now he was kissing me. I didn't want that. I didn't want us to be that intimate. I suppose in my mind, kissing was going too far. It would make us lovers and I didn't want to be that way with him. 

I placed my hands on his shoulders and pulled him down to my face. But before he could get the wrong idea, I craned my head around to his ear and whispered.

"No kissing, ok?"

Mark pulled back and smiled. 

"Ok," he replied. 

I wiped the water from my face and patted my hands against his chest. 

"Your turn," I said and stepped to the side, allowing him under the spray. 

As our bodies slipped past each other, his erection grazed my hip. He stood under the water with his back to me, doing as I had, running his hands over his face and head, soaking his dark black hair. I stepped back a bit and looked at his body. God, it was nice. He was really chiseled quite well, not wholly unlike his dad. I loved big beefy men like them. Mark, like his dad, was so much larger than me, and I adored how a body that size could dwarf my own, when making love. 

I placed my hands on his shoulders and began running them over his body. I mimicked his previous movements on my body, letting my hands gently explore his. Over and around his strong back, down to his hips and over his buttocks, and finally up and around to his powerful chest. Mark had a magnificent body. His pecs were hard and his arms large and strong. I stepped up closer behind him and pushed the small patch of pubic hair on my groin against his ass, gently rubbing up and down, making sure he could feel it. His hands dropped from his head and reached down for my waist, pulling me closer. My fingers dug into the muscles of his chest and I was so tempted to kiss and bite his back. Instead, I let my hands leave his chest and slowly make their way down. When they reached his groin, I brought them together and found his amazingly hard cock sticking straight out from his body. We both groaned, as one hand gripped the length of his cock and the other cupped his heavy testicles, cinched up into a tight ball. I worked my hand up and down his full length. In the forefront of my mind, I wanted to feel his powerful tool in my body; in my mouth. I wanted to orally pleasure him, as I did his dad. I loved oral sex and was equally passionate about having such a wonderful cock erupt in my mouth. But then my mind wanted more. It wanted to feel this source of sexual pleasure elsewhere... between my legs. My fingers squeezed the head of his cock, and Mark moaned. That brought me back to my senses, and I realized we couldn't have intercourse. I simply couldn't do that with him. Not with my own son. It was bad enough, what we were doing in my hotel room together, but to allow him to fuck me? No. That would be going too far into the abyss. 

I released his body and he slowly turned to face me. I grinned up at him and he smiled back in reply. Then my hands blindly reached out for his wonderfully erect cock. He closed his eyes and began slowly thrusting it through my fingers. I looked down and had my first look at it. My heart skipped a beat. It was beautiful. Long and hard with pulsing veins and an angry, engorged purple head. I wrapped both hands around him and began tugging. Mark sighed and placed his hands on my breasts. As he squeezed and pulled on them, I did likewise to his cock. 

"God, I'm gonna cum, if you keep doing that," he moaned. 

He opened his eyes and looked down at me, almost pleadingly. I giggled nervously and stopped the movement of my hands. 

"You like that?" I asked. 

His eyebrows rose and he nodded. 

"God, yeah." 

"Better hurry up," I said, releasing him. "Water's gonna get cold."

And very soon it did. 

Outside the shower, we both dried off. I finished before Mark and wrapped my towel around my torso, leaning back against the bathroom counter. I watched as he brought his towel to his head and rubbed his hair vigorously. My eyes drifted down to his cock. It was still long and hard, curving far out from his body. He was standing not two feet in front of me, and I reached out and took him in my hand. He paused briefly from drying his hair, as I stood there stroking him. Then he brought the towel down and dropped it to the floor, stepping closer to me. I kept my eyes on his cock, as he reached for my towel and pulled it from my body. When it was on the floor, his hand went between my legs and I spread my knees. He slipped a finger deep into me and I grit my teeth, clenched my fingers hard around the throbbing cock in my hand. Mark took another step closer. Another finger entered my body and he began twisting them around inside me. I grunted and felt a warm tingling sensation building between my legs. When his breathing came harder, I knew it was time to stop. I stood up and, guiding him by his cock, brought him out to the bed. 

We stood by the side of the bed momentarily and placed our hands on each other's chests, running them all around. My knees began shaking and I could sense the same nervousness in him. I turned and climbed onto the bed. Mark came up behind me, as I began to crawl on all fours to the opposite side, and then I felt his hands on my hips, stopping me and pulling me back to him. I looked over my shoulder and he smiled. Slowly I scooted back and watched as he ran his hand between my legs and over my soaking vagina. I closed my eyes and purred, lowering my head and chest to the mattress, allowing my ass to stick straight up for him. His fingers continued to manipulate me and soon I felt them enter my body. With my eyes still closed, my mouth opened and I sighed. Another finger followed the first, and Mark started swirling them around inside me, taking up a rhythmic in and out motion. I rocked my body onto his hand, fucking it gently, as my mind entered a hazy fog.

Cooing softly, I felt him withdraw his fingers. "... more..." I whispered. I felt him moving through my folds, and when he found my clit, a spark shot up my spine. 

"...awww, yeah..." I whimpered softly.

Then I felt him enter me once more and soon I was rocking back against him. 

"...god, that feels so good..." I whispered hoarsely. 

That's when I noticed something very different. Something had changed. I could feel both of his hands on my hips, but something was still inside me moving around, in and out. I quickly lifted my head and looked over my shoulder. Mark was kneeling behind me on the bed, his eyes closed and a wide grin on his face, as his hands gripped my hips. His cock was in me. My entire body began shaking violently. He must have sensed this and began thrusting into me harder, the sound of our heavy breathing and bodies slapping together filling the quiet room. 

I watched in horror, as my son and I had intercourse. 

"Oh shit!" I hissed. 

Mark heard me and held his cock deep inside me, grinding his hips against my ass. Then he tossed his head back and his jaw dropped. He started pounding harder. I quickly turned away, my eyes open wide with shock, and made little more than a half-hearted attempt to crawl across the bed. But Mark's hold on me was strong. I could feel my breasts swinging on my chest. I gasped. "Oh my God," I thought. "He's fucking me! We're actually fucking! It wasn't supposed to go this far!" Just then, Mark's hands went to my shoulders and he groaned loudly, as he pounded against me. 

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum!" he exclaimed. 

A sudden whirlwind of emotions swept over me. While one hand clenched the sheets tightly, the other flew between my legs and began frantically rubbing my clit. I felt like crying, but instead joined in Mark's cries of passion. My body started convulsing, and then I felt it. He suddenly stopped thrusting, holding his cock deep in my body, and I felt a tremor along his length. He cried out, and a hot spurt shot far inside my vagina, followed up quickly by another and another. I gasped, as he ejaculated into my womb. But as much as a part of my mind reeled against this, my body had a will of its own and pushed back onto him, desperately trying to impale itself onto his throbbing cock. Several more strong spurts entered me. We were both crying out loudly now. 

"God!" I gasped. "Fuck me!"

I whipped my head around and looked at my son, clenching his teeth as he filled me with his hot seed. 

"Fuck me!" I cried again. "Cum inside me!"

Mark growled and pulled hard on my hips. I could still feel the tip of his cock pulsing. And then, just as quickly, it stopped. He released me and slumped back, his cock sliding out of me with a wet pop. He was breathing hard, as I dropped my head to the mattress, shaking it from side to side. 

"...oh fuck..." I sighed. 

Mark rolled over and lay on the bed. As I continued to kneel there on my hands and knees, trying to catch my breath, I felt his hand on my arm. I slowly turned my face to him.

"You ok?" he whispered, still breathing hard. 

I closed my eyes and turned away, nodding. He rubbed his fingers up and down my arm, trying to comfort me. 

God, it wasn't supposed to have gone this far. I figured at most, all we'd do is lay in bed and masturbate, maybe helping the other. At the very most, I had toyed with the idea of giving him a blowjob. But now this? This hadn't even been a remote possibility, in my mind. It wasn't what I wanted. But the truth is, as I lay there on a bed in a dark hotel room with my son, my body felt amazingly good. I rose up and crawled over, lying down next to him and staring at the ceiling. We were both silent for a long time, long after our breathing had calmed down. Mark rolled onto his side to face me. He placed his hand on my arm, and I slowly turned my head to look at him.

"You ok?"

"Yeah," I whispered in the dark. 

I could barely make out the smile on his face.

"How was it?" he asked.

I turned my eyes back to the ceiling. "Nice," I replied. 

His hand moved to my chest and I felt him rolling my nipple between his fingers. I closed my eyes and asked if we could go to sleep. 

"Sure," he said, and then sat up, pulling the blankets over us. 

Several hours later, I awoke in the middle of the night. I looked over at Mark, sleeping soundly next to me, and crawled out of bed, walking quietly to the bathroom. I turned on the light and quickly brought a hand up to shade my eyes. I looked around on the floor at our clothes and towels lying in a crumpled heap all over. I gingerly stepped over them and to the toilet and sat down. Then I felt something sliding out from between my legs. I parted my knees and looked down. A white glob dropped down into the water. I spread my legs further, craning my neck to get a better view between them. Using my fingers to spread myself open, I felt another white glob drip onto them. It was Mark's semen. 

"You alright?"

Startled, I slammed my knees together and looked up at the door. Mark was standing there, holding a hand over his eyes. I nodded quickly. 

"Comin' back to bed?" he asked. 

I nodded again. "Yeah," I whispered. 

He backed away from the door, getting out of the bright light of the bathroom, and dropped his hand. We stared at each other for a few seconds, and then I said I'd be there in a moment. Mark turned and walked back to the bed. I parted my knees again and looked down into the water. More of his cum had dripped out and into the water. I stood up and flushed the toilet, and then walked to the door and turned off the light. 

When I came out into the dark room, Mark was sitting on the edge of the bed. As I went to walk to my side, he reached out for my hand and gently brought me to him. Reluctantly, I followed his lead. He parted his knees and brought me to stand between them, running his hands up my arms. We were both completely nude. His hands moved up to my shoulders, and then down to my breasts. I wanted to stop him, but I couldn't bring myself to speak. Instead, I simply let him do as he wished. And when his fingers began massaging my breasts, I watched as his cock slowly rose between his legs. 

I placed my hands on his shoulders and carefully pushed him back. Mark leaned back on the bed on his elbows and looked up at me quizzically. 

"Move back," I whispered. 

Mark complied and scooted his body up the bed. Then I climbed atop him, straddling his legs until my vagina was hovering above his erect cock. I reached down and gripped it, holding it straight up, and lowered myself until the head was rubbing against my clit. Mark moaned and I asked if he wanted to fuck some more. 

"...yeah..." he replied. 

I angled his cock back and gently lowered myself onto him. We both moaned softly, and Mark closed his eyes, as he entered me. While I rocked up and down on him, I kept my eyes on his face, noting the subtle twitching, as the tip of his sensitive cock was stimulated inside my body, the body that gave birth to him. I put my hands on his chest and started grinding my hips down on him hard. 

"...ohhhh God...." he whispered. 

A slight smile crept across my lips. 

"Gonna cum soon?" I whispered.

Mark nodded slowly. 

I reached for his hands and placed them on my breasts. His fingers clenched them hard, every time I contracted my vaginal walls around his cock. 

"Ohhhh, fuck that's good!" he said, arching his back and thrusting his hips upward. 

I placed my hands atop his on my breasts and began rocking back and forth. 

"Cum inside me," I whispered.

"...oh, fuck yeah..."

I closed my eyes, reveling in the intense sensations. "Cum inside me," I whispered. "Do it, baby... fill me again..."

A low moaned emanated from his lips, building to a loud growl. 

"Aw, that's it, sexy boy," I moaned. "Gimme your cum." 

My body began undulating and Mark's hands squeezed my breasts tightly. I cried out, and then felt his cock erupt inside me. I began bouncing up and down quickly, my head held back far and quietly screaming, as we mated. 

"Aw fuck!" he cried out, violently thrusting his cock up into me, driving his semen deeper. 

As our mutual orgasms subsided, I collapsed onto his chest, our faces side-by-side. We were both panting hard. Mark wrapped his arms around me and started licking my ear. I sighed happily and did the same to his. And very soon, we were running our tongues all over each other's face, moaning and giggling, his cock still hard and still buried deep inside me. Our lips met and I briefly parted mine, our tongues gently poking together, as we laughed. 

"You're still hard," I giggled. 

Mark thrust his hips upward and I groaned.

"Want me to suck you off?" I asked, letting my tongue trace around his warm lips.

"Mm hmm..." he replied. 

Just before I sat up, I pushed my tongue into his mouth and locked my lips to his, kissing him deeply. We both moaned into each other's mouth, but before it could continue any further, I pushed away. I sat atop his cock and bounced a few times on it, grinning down at him. He smiled, and then I reluctantly got off him and sat to the side, scooting further down his body until my head was next to his hips. I took his cock in my hand and leaned over, letting my tongue slide up the underside. And when my lips reached the head, I opened my mouth wide and took it inside. Mark placed his hands on either side of my head, bobbing it up and down on him. It took a long time before he rewarded my oral efforts, but that was fine by me. I loved oral sex and the taste of a hot cock in my mouth. 

For the remainder of the night, we fucked and sucked, pleasuring each other in innumerable ways. It was definitely the best sex either of us ever had. We didn't go to sleep until the first rays of morning light began shining through the closed curtains. 




An Accident, The Internet, A Hotel



Several hours later, I awoke and looked at the clock. It was quarter till twelve. I jumped out of bed and quickly shook Mark.

"Get up!" I said excitedly. 

Mark, still quite groggy and exhausted from a night of nearly non-stop sexual intercourse with his mother, mumbled and slowly sat up.

"What's the matter?" he said, wiping a hand over his face.

I quickly pulled a t-shirt over my head, saying it was almost noon and I had to check out then. Mark looked at the clock, and then fell back onto the pillow. "Can't you get it for another day?" he complained. I was sitting on the edge of the bed, putting my socks on, and turned back to look at him. The sheets were only half covering his body. I reached back and slowly pulled them down revealing his naked form. With his eyes still closed, he smirked and said softly, "Enjoying the show?" I stood up and giggled, buckling the belt of my jeans. "I especially enjoyed it last night!" I laughed. "Ha ha," came his short reply, as he pulled the sheets back up. I walked over to the credenza and picked up my keys and wallet. As I opened the door to the room, Mark lifted his head and spoke.

"You gonna stay another day?"

I turned and hesitated. Was I? I thought about it for a moment, and then smiled. "Ok," I said. "I'll get the room for another night and call home." Mark gave me a sleepy smile, and then dropped his head back down on the pillow. 

A short time later, I returned to the room. As Mark slept soundly, I crawled up on the bed and lay down next to him. He stirred, and then slowly opened one eye. I grinned.

"Hi there," I whispered. 

He closed his eye and smiled in reply. 

I moved closer and gently pressed my lips to his.

"...remember..." he whispered. "...no kissing..."

I giggled and pushed my tongue into his mouth. "Stupid rule," I mumbled between kisses, and reached down under the sheets where I found his cock long and hard. 

Did I feel guilty about having sex with him? For a short time, I did. But the more time I spent with Mark, the less I thought about it; the less it bothered me. I'd never had such thoughts of him prior to this. But now something had changed. We already loved each other, though it was a platonic parental love I felt for him. I didn't have the slightest romantic inklings for him. To me, masturbating with him online seemed quite harmless. At least, that's what I kept telling myself. But the fact is, we both admitted to enjoying it. Sure, we said all kinds of things to each other in the heat of the moment at such times, but we also knew it was a game not to be taken seriously. And when we finally had sex, honestly, although I'll be the first to admit there's a difference between playing pool and having intercourse, there didn't seem to be a fundamental difference for us. We were simply enjoying each other's company, albeit on a much more intimate and sexual level. The only thing that truly bothered me about this was that I was doing so behind my husband's back. It didn't feel like I was cheating, since it was with our son. I loved him as much as his father. The only difference now was that I was having sex with both of them. And the truth is, I liked it. In fact, I loved it. I loved knowing that the two most important men in my life loved me as much as I loved them, but also sexually desired me. My husband and I had a wonderful sex life, and now it only seemed to blossom, as a result of my newfound connection with our son. For his part, I can't say for certain why Mark went along with it. Hormones? I'm sure that played a pivotal role in things. As strange as it seems, the more sexually connected we became, the less sex seemed to have anything to do with it. Sex was merely the bridge through which we formed a deeper bond.

Mark and I lay in bed for a long time sleeping, at last awakening around 2pm. We showered together, having quick intercourse under the water, and then dressed and went to get a bite to eat. 

We were sitting at a table across from each other in a fast food restaurant, when Mark nearly made me choke. He took a bite of his sandwich, and then casually asked if his father and I ever had anal sex. I coughed, spitting tiny particles of food across the table. Mark only chuckled, as I quickly grabbed my drink, trying to recover. When I set my cup down, I looked at him sternly and wiped my mouth. 

"God, Mark!" I exclaimed softly. "Don't ask me that. Man, that's just a little too personal, don't ya think?"

He took another bite and shrugged with a stupid smile. 

"I don't see why," he replied. "We fucked almost all night, and then a few times already today."

I clapped my hands on the table and leaned toward him hissing. 

"Mark!" 

"What?" he snorted with a laugh.

I tilted my head a few times to another table not far away. He glanced over and saw a family sitting there with several small children. Mark picked up his drink. "So?" he muttered. Then he waved me off, adding, "Eh, they're too far away, anyway. Probably didn't hear anything." I closed my eyes and sat back, slowly shaking my head. When I opened my eyes, he was still wearing that stupid smile. "What?" he said with a chuckle. I kicked him under the table. "Ow! Shit!" he exclaimed, though in a lower tone this time. "That's better," I replied with a smirk. 

Just as I was about to take a bite of my sandwich, a young man, probably about Mark's age, walked over to our table. Mark seemed to recognize him and smiled, glancing at me nervously. I replied with a mild glare. 

"Mark! Dude! What's up?!"

But before he could reply, the young man looked at me, smiling from ear to ear. He gestured to me and looked back at Mark, saying, "This one of your sisters, dude?" And once again, before Mark could give him an answer, the fellow turned to me, asking the same question. 

"You one of his sisters?"

Mark laughed, saying, "Uh, no, dude. That's actually my mom." 

His friend reeled back slightly, furling his eyebrows and staring down hard at me in disbelief. 

"Whoa! No shit?"

Then he whipped his head around to Mark, but still pointing at me, and said it again. 

"No shit?"

"No shit, dude," replied Mark, smiling at me. "That's my mom."

His friend turned to me and still had an unconvinced expression on his face. I set my sandwich down and shrugged, placing my hands atop one another in front of me. 

"It's true," I remarked casually. 

"... damn..."

I held out my hand to him and asked his name. 

"... damn..." he mumbled again, then quickly came to his senses. 

"Oh, uh... Dave," he said, taking my hand gently in his. 

"Nice to meet you, Dave. Amanda."

"Amanda?"

I grinned, as he continued to shake my hand, and then turned my eyes down to them. Dave seemed to catch my subliminal message and quickly released me from his grip. 

"How old are you?" he asked. 

I gasped, raising my eyebrows high and pretending to be offended by his question.

"Ok, ok!" he said apologetically. "But seriously... how old are you?"

I picked up a napkin and wiped my mouth, still feigning offense. Then I dropped it to the table, replying, "Thirty-nine, if you must know."

Dave's head jerked quickly and he said, "Damn! Really?"

"Really."

"Shit... I woulda guessed maybe twenty-nine! Maybe even twenty-five... damn... thirty-nine..."

I chuckled and excused myself to stop by the restroom before we left. A few minutes later, when I emerged, I found Dave and Mark standing by the doors, Dave with his back to me. And as I came up from behind, I heard him speaking.

"...she's fuckin' hot, dude! You gotta bring her around more often!"

I stopped in my tracks, when Mark saw me, and took a few careful steps backward. Dave seemed to sense something was amiss, based Mark's expression, and turned around. I quickly resumed walking toward them and smiled. 

"Ready to go?" I asked.

Mark nodded and pushed the door open for me.

"See ya, dude," he called to his friend. 

I turned and smiled at Dave, giving him a friendly wave to which he replied in kind. 

As Mark and I walked back to the car, he asked if I'd heard much of their conversation. 

"Apparently more than I needed to," I said, fishing the keys from my purse.

When we were in the car and sitting at the parking lot exit, I asked Mark where he wanted to go next. He only shrugged, saying it was up to me. I grinned and pulled out into traffic, turning in the direction of the hotel. As we drove along in silence, I glanced over at Mark, who was smiling broadly. 

Half an hour later, we were both sitting on the bed facing each other, our legs intertwined. I was gently stroking his erection, while he softly petted between my legs. I closed my eyes and tilted my head slightly. 

"... feels nice..." I whispered. 

We carefully brought our bodies closer together, closer until our groins were touching. I pulled Mark's cock downward, brushing the swollen head through my pubic hair. He brought his hands up to my breasts, and then leaned down, taking one into his mouth. 

"... oh yeah..." I whispered again, placing a hand on the back of his head and pulling him further into my chest. 

By now, after endless hours of stimulation, my nipples were incredibly rigid and hypersensitive. I could feel every flick of his tongue sending shockwaves through my body. I dropped my head down next to his and began kissing his neck.

"... fuck me, Mark... fuck me again..."

He moaned in protest, as I gently pushed him from my nipple, and then turned his eyes up to mine and I smiled. 

"...fuck me again," I whispered, almost begging him. I sat up slightly and moved forward so his cock could enter me. And when I sank down onto him, we wrapped our arms around each other, rocking back and forth, our bodies embracing tightly. Our lips came together and we kissed passionately for a very long time, sitting on the bed of a darkened hotel room having incestuous intercourse. As Mark kissed my neck, he mumbled softly, "God, you're fucking beautiful." I closed my eyes and tilted my head back, sighing happily. As wrong as I knew this to be, it felt so amazingly right, physically and emotionally. I felt as though I had come to know my own son so much better through our illicit act. I felt as close to him as my husband of twenty-one years. I knew him so much better now. There was nothing we couldn't share between us, nothing we couldn't talk about, and nothing more to hide. We had created a bond that would last a lifetime. 

When our kiss broke, we looked into each other's eyes and smiled, as if reading the other person's thoughts. I gently bobbed up and down on his cock, feeling every vein and pulse of blood through them against my vaginal walls, and put my arms over his shoulders.

"This is beautiful," I whispered, giving him a soft kiss on the nose. "Am I as 'fucking hot' as your buddy, Dave, says?" I asked. Mark smiled. "Yeah," he replied, and then pulled my face to his and kissed me.

About an hour later, I was lying on my stomach with Mark behind me, straddling my legs and massaging my back. His strong hands worked the muscles of my back deeply. With my eyes closed, I sighed happily. Then my cell phone began ringing. I groaned and lifted my head. 

"Let it ring," said Mark.

I wiped a hand over my forehead. "Might be dad," I replied. I sat up and pulled myself across the mattress to the nightstand, as Mark lifted his legs to let me go to my phone. I flipped it open to see who was calling. 

"Yeah, it's dad," I said. Then I rolled onto my side to face Mark. He was sitting back on his heels; one hand on his thigh while the other slowly stroked his cock. I rolled my eyes and shook my head. Mark only laughed. I quickly held a finger to my lips. "Ok," he whispered. 

"Hey there!" I chirped into the phone, holding it to my ear. I turned onto my stomach again, facing away from Mark while we talked. As the conversation went on, I could feel Mark moving around behind me. He was moving up to straddle my legs again. I carefully turned my head back, holding a finger to my lips. 

"Uh huh," I said. "Then what'd she say?"

I laughed, and then felt Mark's hands on my ass. I reached back and tried to swat him away, but he was persistent. 

"Well, I told her she could, as long as it was ok with you."

Mark started massaging my ass cheeks, and I closed my eyes and smiled, trying to stay focused on the conversation I was having with my husband. 

"No way!" I laughed. "Really? That's too funny."

With my eyes still closed, I began pushing my ass up. Just then, I felt Mark dig his thumbs deep into the crevice of my ass and spread it wide apart. His thumbs were on either side of my asshole and I didn't even have to turn around to know how fully exposed I was back there. I quickly lifted my foot up, striking Mark in the back with my heel. 

"Ouch!"

I whirled my head around and glared at him. 

"Nothing," I replied, still glaring at my idiot son. "Just Mark. He came out of the bathroom here and hit his knee on something, I think." 

Mark smirked and rolled off the bed and walked to the bathroom. 

"Yeah," I said. "We stopped by my room so I could change and go to the bathroom. We're about to head out the door now... Ok... Yep, I'll give you a call before I leave in the morning. Ok... Bye... I love you, too."

I snapped the phone shut and tossed it on the nightstand. I dropped my head down, shaking it from side to side. When I looked up, Mark was still in the bathroom. I swung my legs to the floor and walked over to him.

"What the hell were you doing?" I said, standing in the doorway of the bathroom with my hands on my hips. Mark was standing in front of the toilet and, when he heard my voice, jerked his head around.

"Hey!" he cried with a laugh. "Jesus!"

"What was that all about?" I asked sternly.

Mark laughed and turned back to face the toilet. 

"Uh... I'm trying to use the john here. Ya mind?"

"Well, I was trying to talk to my husband. Do you mind?"

And then I stormed back to the bed. 

When he finally emerged from the bathroom, I was sitting up at the head of the bed with the pillows propped behind me and the blankets draped over my body. He walked around to the other side and climbed in, all the while with me glaring at him. He knew I was and tried to avoid eye contact. 

"Wipe that stupid smile off your face," I growled.

Mark looked at me and, when he saw I wasn't joking, his smile slowly ebbed. 

"Sorry," he muttered. 

I pulled my knees up under the blankets and dropped my head to them, wagging it back and forth. I felt him place his hand on my back. 

"Sorry," he whispered. "It won't happen again."

I lifted my head and turned to look at him with an expression of quiet exasperation. 

"It's alright," I sighed. 

Then Mark moved closer, putting his arm around me, and started kissing my shoulder. 

I closed my eyes and chuckled. 

"Why were you doing that?" I whispered. 

He continued kissing me, replying, "'Cuz you have a sexy ass."

I chuckled again. "Ya think so?"

"Mm hmm..."

Then Mark slowly pulled the blanket away from my body, and slipped his hand between my legs. I took a deep breath and laid back against the pillows, spreading my knees for him. He fingered me for a long time, and then I felt a single digit move down to my asshole. My mouth opened slightly and I raised my hips. My hand closest to him fumbled around until it found his wonderful cock. He was fully aroused. And when he pressed the very tip of his finger against my anus, I groaned, squeezing my hand around him tightly. 

"You like that?" he asked softly.

I nodded. "... oh yeah..."

I pulled my knees back, as he pushed more of his thick finger into me, and hissed softly, clenching the sheets and his cock tightly.

"That hurt?" he asked. 

My breathing came rapidly, and I nodded my head. 

"Just a little," I hissed. 

Mark slowly withdrew his finger and, when he was completely out of my body, I dropped me feet to the mattress and exhaled. 

I brushed the hair from my forehead and opened my eyes. He had a sly smile on his face. 

"You really do have a sexy ass," he said. 

I closed my eyes and grinned wide, dropping my hand to his thigh and rubbing him. 

"God," I moaned, a little embarrassed. "Gonna need some KY, if you wanna do that."

"Anal?"

I nodded and forced myself upright. 

"Sorta hurts otherwise," I said, standing from the bed. 

As I walked around, picking up my clothes to get dressed, Mark watched.

"Where ya goin'?" 

I pulled a t-shirt over my head and looked over at him. 

"Well, I didn't bring any, unless you did."

"Any what?"

I laughed, as I zipped my shorts. 

"Lube, silly."

Mark sat up, as if surprised, saying, "Oh? ... ohhhh... Ok."

I bent down to pick up my socks and sat on the edge of the bed. Mark moved around and sat next to me and watched as I put them on. 

"Wanna hand me my shoes?" I said, pointing to them on the floor by his feet. He leaned down and picked them up.

"Thanks." 

"So... should I just stay here then?" he asked. 

I tied my laces, replying, "Oh, I don't think so, mister. If you wanna do this, then you get to come with me to the store." 

And so I sat on the bed and watched, as my son hurriedly dressed, not bothering with putting on his underwear or socks. 

Half an hour later, we walked back into the room and once more removed our clothing. We climbed onto the bed, facing one another, as I held the tube of KY.

"How much do I use?" he asked. 

"Doesn't take much," I replied, removing the cap. 

When I was ready, I looked down between us and sighed. Mark looked down, too, and then back up at me. 

"What?" he asked. 

I smirked, saying it would help if he had an erection. 

"Not gonna make much progress back there without one," I said, shaking a finger at him. 

He thought about it for a moment, and then, tired of waiting and anxious to do this, I squirt a dab of jell onto my fingers.

"Here," I said, reaching for his cock. "I'll do it." 

When the cool jelly on my fingers came in contact with his cock, Mark's chest rose high, as he took a deep breath.

"Feels nice, huh? You like it?"

Mark grinned. "Yeah," he replied, taking another deep breath, as his cock slowly came to life in my hand. 

We moved closer and I used both hands to lubricate both his long cock and tight balls. 

"...It's big..." I whispered. "I like that... nice and big for me..."

Mark's mouth hung open, and he closed his eyes, as I carefully manipulated his genitals.

"Beth ever do this for you?" I asked softly. 

He slowly shook his head no. 

"Mm, lucky me," I said, and leaned down to kiss one of his nipples. 

Mark groaned and said he was going to cum, if I kept doing that. I sat back, keeping my hand on his cock, and asked if he and his girlfriend ever had anal sex. He shook his head no. 

"...she doesn't like it..." he said. 

I grinned. "Maybe you're not doing it right," I said. "I'll show you how. Just do what I tell you, ok?"

He nodded quickly, and then I turned around and got on my hands and knees. He moved up behind me, aiming his cock at my asshole, and then began pushing in. 

"Ugh! Wait!" I gasped, almost laughing at his enthusiasm. Mark looked down at me. "Slower," I whispered. "Gotta give me a chance to get use to it, ok?" He nodded and backed off a bit. I laid my head and chest on the mattress and held my ass up high for him. Then I closed my eyes and told him to use his finger to loosen me up. A second later, I felt him gently invade me. I raised my eyebrows and sighed. 

"Keep going," I said. "... deeper... take your time... let me enjoy it..."

Soon Mark figured it out and was a gentle lover. He worked his finger in and out, occasionally wiggling the tip deep inside, eliciting a giggle from me. When I felt like I was ready, he moved up behind me and let the tip of his cock rest against my anus. I lifted my head and looked back at him. 




An Accident, The Internet, A Hotel



"Don't push, ok?"

Mark nodded.

"Just let me push back onto you. It'll be tight, so keep your cock straight and let me do the work."

I could see he was breathing harder now, as was I. His cock wasn't small, something he definitely inherited that from his dad. 

I took a deep breath and, as I exhaled, squeezed my ass out, pushing back onto his cock. I kept up a steady pressure until he began to crown into me. I gripped the sheets tightly and clenched my eyes shut. And when the flared head of his cock popped inside, we both grunted loudly. 

"... aw shit, yeah..." I hissed between my teeth. 

I pushed back more and felt him slip in a little deeper. Mark moaned heavily.

"... fuck, you're tight... oh my God, that's tight..."

I smiled, as the perspiration began beading on my forehead. But soon he was as deep as I dared let him go. We remained motionless for a long time, as my body became adjusted to this new invasion. Mark placed his hands on my hips, and I started to slowly move along the length of his cock. We moaned and sighed, and built to a faster tempo. After a few minutes, he stuttered, saying he was going to cum very soon. I told him to hold still and let me do the work the rest of the way. He kept his hands on my hips, and I gradually pushed myself back further. And when I was as far as I could go, I stopped and tightened myself around his length. 

"Ooo, shit that's nice," he said with a grunt. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum!"

I felt his hands trembling on my hips, and then his cock began to swell very slightly inside my body. I closed my eyes and dropped my head between my shoulders, moaning loudly, and then he released his seed deep inside me. I raised my head, craning my neck out far, and let my jaw fall, as he filled me. 

"... ahhhh... that's it, baby," I cooed. "Ohhh yeah... fill me up..."

Mark carefully thrust his cock in and out of me, ejaculating at the same time. When he finished cumming, we were both breathing very hard. As he withdrew his cock, I winced. Mark fell back onto the bed, trying to catch his breath, while I rolled over on my side to face him. And when he looked at me, I smiled broadly.

"How was it?" I asked. 

He closed his eyes and smiled. 

"Fucking awesome," he whispered.

I forced myself up and crawled over to him. 

"Let's take a shower and go get some food," I said, kissing his cheek. 

By now, after nearly continuous sex for twenty-four hours, Mark and I were becoming physically exhausted. In the shower, all we did was kiss very briefly and clean up. And when we went to get something to eat, we opted for the drive-thru, too tired to trudge inside to eat. 

Back in the room, we set the food on the bed and sat facing each other and ate, though fully clothed. I was feeling euphoric; like a young high school girl on a date with a wonderful and sexy man. 

Mark and I sat facing each other, our legs crossed and knees touching, as we ate. 

"You guys have sex much?" he asked, biting into his burger. 

I picked up my drink and sipped on the straw and shrugged.

"Mmm... yeah, I guess. I mean, not every day, but often enough, I suppose."

"You guys ever get kinky?"

I chuckled. "Well, depends on what you mean by 'kinky'." 

"You know... kinky... anal sex... golden showers..."

I laughed out loud. "Gawd, Mark!" I exclaimed. 

He chuckled, saying, "So tell me. I'm just curious, is all. What kinda kinky things you guys do to spice it up?"

I picked up a single French fry and, as I held it to my mouth, mumbled softly, and took a quick bite. Mark grinned and leaned closer. "What's that?" he asked. I could feel my face turning red, and took a deep breath and looked up at him. 

"He likes to watch me pee, sometimes, ok?"

Mark's jaw dropped and his eyes shot open. Then he fell over laughing. I picked up a handful of fries and threw them at him. 

"Jerk!" I cried. 

When he regained his composure, he sat up, brushing the fries off his shirt, and smiled at me. 

"I dunno," he remarked casually. "That's almost kinda sexy." Then he paused and looked at me, staring at me actually. I was too embarrassed to return his stare, so I picked up another fry and took a small bite. 

"You like doing that?" he asked in a more respectful tone. I raised my eyes, and then quickly glanced away, taking another bite. "Yeah," I replied softly. "Just something special he likes me to do for him. Nothing wrong with it."

"So how often do you guys have sex?" he asked. "Couple times a week?" 

I laughed. "Well, no. We've been married for over twenty years, ya know. After a while, the novelty of seeing the other person nude sorta wears thin."

Mark gave me a puzzled look. "So you guys... what? You're not attracted to each other? Sexually, I mean?"

I bit into a French fry, wagging my head back and forth.

"Doesn't quite work that way, once you've been married for a while," I said with a full mouth. I swallowed, adding, "You know, it's like you and Beth. You meet, you're sexually attracted to each other, you have sex, and then you keep having sex until it's not as exciting any more, ya know? Now you just have sex partly for recreation, maybe procreation, but mostly just to feel closer to the person you love." 

There was a long moment of silence. Mark was picking at his fries and glanced at me. I grinned, taking another sip of my soda.

"And what is it with us?" he whispered. 

I slowly set my drink down and cleared my throat. That was a good question. What was this going to become?

"Well..." I said, mulling it over. "I... I dunno... to feel closer?"

His eyes turned up and I gave him a weak smile. 

"Is that really why we did this?" he asked, poking at his half-eaten burger.

We sat in silence for a short time, and then I reached out, taking his hand in mine. 

"Mark," I whispered. He looked up. "I love you," I said. He tried to smile. "I know," he replied. "I love you, too." I watched as he picked up his drink and held the straw to his lips. I sat back and sighed.

"I'm going to be honest with you," I said. 

He set his cup down and looked over at me. I nervously brushed my hands on my legs and pulled my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them. 

"Never in a million years," I whispered softly. "Would I ever had thought I'd be having sex with you... my own son." I turned my eyes to his. "Never," I whispered. Then my eyes drifted behind him at nothing in particular.

"I dunno," I said. "I dunno why I did it. I know that's not an answer, but it's the only one I can come up with." Then I took a deep breath and sighed loudly. "Ok," I said. "Yeah, I did it for the sex... initially. Dad and I have a good sex life. It's wonderful. I love him with all my heart. But... I dunno... something... something changed between us, ya know? Between you and me. It's like a door was opened. I guess I was curious. And it seemed like you were, too... so... so I stepped through it." Mark was staring at me, his hands resting on his knees and clasped together. He slowly nodded.

"Yeah," he mumbled. "I know what ya mean."

"But we're still the same people," I said plaintively. "I still love you. You're still my son and I'll always be your mom. It's just..."

Mark picked up his cup again and nodded.

"I know," he muttered and took a drink.

I could feel a dour mood slowly overcoming both of us. I reached for his hand and pulled it to me. 

"Look," I said. "Ok, let's make a rule. From now on, we're still the same people. You're still my son and I'm still you're mom and that'll never change, ok? We're not going to let this adversely affect our relationship, agreed?"

Mark chuckled, but nodded. "Ok," he said with a grin. "Agreed."

"Ok, then," I said. "Now, the second thing we have to determine is what to do next."

"Whadya mean?"

I hesitated, looking down at his hand in mine, rubbing my thumb on the top of it. 

"What I mean is..." Then I looked him in the eyes. "Mark... the door is open. Do we step back out and shut it and forget this ever happened... or do we keep it open like this?"

We sat in silence for a very long time.

"I dunno," he whispered. "What do you wanna do?"

Part of me wanted to say, we should shut it and forget any of this ever happened. But that would be pointless. It did happen and its memory would forever be burned into our hearts and minds. 

"Maybe..." But then I paused, trying to choose my words carefully. Mark looked at me and blinked. "I don't wanna shut it," I whispered, slowly wagging my head from side to side. "I like the sex, Mark. I like having sex with you. I know it's sick and twisted, but I do. I like it so much. I like being intimate like this with you; feeling closer, like I can just bare my soul to you like I could never do before. Some people don't have anyone they can share their life with like that. Some people get married so they can, but only have the one person. But now... now I have two people... Two people I can confide in... and love with all my heart, with no barriers between us... I love exploring this new level of our relationship with you, sweetheart. Yes, I admit, I enjoy the sex... but please believe me when I say I'd never cheat on your dad. I love him so much; with all my heart, I do. But I wanna do this with you... because I love you, too. I'd never go out and create a new love with another man, but with you... with you it's different. The love was already there and always will be." 

Mark smiled, and in the dark reached over to my face with his hand, wiping away a tear under my eye. 

"I feel the same way, mom," he mumbled softly. "The exact same way... back when you... you know... that one night in my room?"

I nodded, taking his hands in mine. 

"I couldn't get that out of my mind," he said. "It's... it's like you said... that... that opened a door between us, and... and I was curious, too. But no, I don't regret it. You said exactly how I feel, too... in my heart..."

I smiled and pulled his hands to my lips and kissed them gently. 

"Thank you," I whispered. 

Then Mark smiled and said, "There's just something I want to say to you... just one thing, since we're being honest, ok?"

I opened my eyes, still holding his hands to my face, and nodded. 

"Say anything you want, sweetie... anything at all. No more barriers between us."

He shook his head and took a deep breath. "Ok," he replied. Then he looked me right in the eye.

"Mom... your movies really suck."

A smile slowly grew across his lips.

I sat there staring at him and furled my eyebrows.

"What?" I asked, wholly bewildered. 

"Your movies suck," he said. "Really... they're just horrible."

Mark sat back, and I slowly released his hands from mine, trying to make sense of what he just said and how it fit in with what I'd been confessing to him. My face was scrunched up, as I sat there staring back at him. And then he chuckled and reached over to poke me in the shoulder. 

"What does... what's that got to do with anything?" I stuttered, holding up my hands.

Then he erupted into a fit of laughter, clapping his hands together and falling over. 

I quickly scooped up my fries, burger, and all of his, and in one swift motion threw the entire heap at him. He held up his hands defensively, and then I lunged across the bed, landing squarely on his body. We were both laughing, as I playfully beat my fists against him.

"Jerk!" I cried. He only laughed louder, so I smacked him on the head. "Asshole!" I exclaimed. Just then, Mark grabbed me by the arms and rolled us over, pinning me to the mattress. We tried not to laugh, but it wasn't easy. But soon he slowly released his grip on my arms, and I brought my hand to his face, gently caressing his cheek. 

"I love you so much," I whispered. "I meant every word I said."

"I love you, too," he replied. "And I meant every word I said, too."

We stifled a chuckle, and then he lowered himself onto my chest, his face only inches above mine.

"I don't want this to change our relationship, either," he said softly, brushing the hair from my eyes. 

"Good," I replied and pulled his lips to mine. 

For the next few hours, Mark and I made love. Not sex, but passionate love. And soon thereafter, we fell asleep next to each other, cuddling closely. 

Shortly before sunrise, I awoke and carefully walked to the bathroom. I flipped on the light and quickly shaded my eyes, stepping over to the toilet. I sat on the cool seat, resting my elbows on my knees, my head hanging down. There was a slight noise and I looked up. Mark was standing there in the doorway. Embarrassed, I quickly closed my knees together, covering myself between the legs with my hands. As he stood in the dark outside the bathroom, I thought I could see a gentle smile creep across his face. I grinned and slowly sat up, spreading my legs and keeping my eyes locked on his. From my peripheral vision, I thought I could make out his hand slowly stroking his cock. I tried not to look, concentrating on my own bodily efforts. A few seconds later, I felt a steady trickle emerge, which soon became a strong stream. There was nothing I wouldn't do for my son now. I said it and I meant it. Things had changed between us. 

For the remainder of the morning, we made soft love in bed. So much had happened over the course of the weekend; over the last month. When I left to go home that morning, I felt a sense of sadness sweep over me. He wanted me to stay for a few more hours; just a few more, he pleaded. But I couldn't. It was a long drive home, giving me plenty of time to think over all that had transpired. When I pulled into the driveway, my wonderful husband was in the garage, cleaning it up like he promised me he'd do. And, although I was physically exhausted, even sore from having sex all weekend with my son, that night my husband and I made passionate love with one another.