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This Mother's Solution Ch. 01

By: joelle_m



This Mother's Solution Ch. 1

The fire is ignited, an autobiographical account.

The format of this story is unlike most literotica.com works of fiction because it is autobiographical. It is my description of one facet of the relationship I have with my son, the most pertinent part having taken place in a little over a year's time.

One of the things that I agree with Tom Cruise and his Scientology friends about is their contention that psychiatry is a questionable science. However, there is one aspect of psychiatric practice that I believe has some merit and that involves patients telling their doctors about past occurrences that trouble them or, alternatively, things in their life that they think about compulsively. Usually these things involve something that can't comfortably be discussed with a friend or acquaintance. Some of the experiences I have had with my son fall in that category and for that reason I feel the need to tell someone about them. So, dear reader, to help me do that, for a short while I am asking you to be my substitute psychiatrist. Since people who frequent this web site are expecting what they read to have highly charged sexual content, I have made an effort to include as much of that type of thing as I can remember. 

I'm sure that by now most of you are assuming that during the period I mentioned, my son and I had an incestuous relationship. While according to a clinical definition that may be true, it's probably not true in exactly the way you would expect. What happened between us is different from any of the stories I have read here but then again, since I haven't read them all, it's possible that what I'm about to tell you is not as unique as I think it is. It's possible but not likely.

I should also say something about the quotations I have included. Much of the following dialog I remember almost word for word. Other conversations I can only recall in bits and pieces and for a small percentage, I can't remember the words we used at all. Those parts have been created using my best effort to come up with what we most likely would have talked about. In all of these quotations, the substance is as accurate as I can make it..

For this article, I have decided to call myself Ellen. My son, who I will refer to as David, is my only child. After the youngest part of his childhood, he was raised according to the terms of a joint custody agreement between his father Jim (a fictitious name also) and I who divorced after 11 years of marriage. With variations having to do with weekends and vacations, the basic legal arrangement was that David lived with me during the months of the year when school was in session and he stayed with his father summers. After David reached 18 years of age, he could have lived where ever he wanted but for a while he decided to continue staying with me while he worked and attended a local community college. 

Financially speaking, both mine and my ex-husband's households have always been relatively secure. For many years I have worked as a graphic arts designer for the local branch of a large advertising firm and Jim has been employed as an executive in the banking business. Jim remarried a few months after our divorce but in my case it was many years later. In the interim I dated occasionally but for a long time I didn't have any interest in remarrying.

My son David, who is 20 years old as this is being written, has always been athletically inclined and has a very muscular build. He is 6' 4" tall, has dark brown wavy hair that he keeps fairly short and blue-green eyes. He weighs approximately 215 pounds. He played several sports in high school and won letters in both basketball and baseball. As his mother, obviously my opinions are biased but I've always thought of him as being very handsome. 

As for myself, presently I am 41. It's hard to be objective about yourself but I think most people would say that I'm moderately attractive. I'm 5' 7" tall and my hips are proportionally somewhat smaller than my bust. My measurements are 34-24-32 and I try to keep my weight under 130 pounds. My eyes are the same color as David's. When I was in high school, I was elected to three 'courts' but I wasn't lucky enough to have won any of them. Since then I have kept myself reasonably fit by always belonging to a health club. My best features are probably my face, which fortunately keeps me looking several years younger than I am, and my auburn colored hair, which I've always kept longer than shoulder length. Friends have told me that I somewhat resemble the actress Jill Clayburgh.

As a final note before I begin this, let me say that in order to conform with literotica's submission guidelines, I have changed certain details. However, those alterations don't affect anything that follows in a material way.

This all started one day at work when I took to feeling ill. As it happened, there was nothing much work related to do anyway so I decided to go home at lunch time and take the rest of the day off. When I walked in the door of our house, I could hear music blaring upstairs which told me that David was home too. Thinking that his dad had picked him up and driven them to an out-of-town baseball game that day, I went up to his room to ask him what was going on. When I got to the door of his bedroom, which was half open, what I saw caused me to freeze in place.

David was lying on top of his bed, totally naked, masturbating.

What's more, the circumstances surrounding what he was doing were even more surprising, something that didn't register with me until a short time later when the details of what I was seeing had a chance to sink in. He was lying with his head at the foot of the bed, so his eyes were directed away from where I was standing. The reason that he was in that position is that he was looking at a picture he had propped up on the headboard, just above his feet. The combination of his looking in that direction, plus the loudness of his stereo, meant that he didn't know I was there. As soon as I realized this, I backed away as quickly and as quietly as I could, turned around and tiptoed back downstairs. After thinking about it for no more than a few seconds, I left the house, got back in my car and drove away.

I was in a mental fog and I cruised around aimlessly. Eventually I ended up at the local equivalent of a Starbucks coffee shop. I spent much of the afternoon there, thinking about what I'd seen. Even though I'd never witnessed anything like that before, either with David or anyone else, I knew it was not unusual. Young boys do that kind of thing. That wasn't what was bothering me. The astonishing part was that I recognized the picture he was looking at while he was pleasuring himself. The reason I recognized it was that it was a picture of me!

I was familiar with this particular photograph because it was one of several that my ex-husband Jim had taken of me when we were first married. For as long as I've known Jim, he has been an amateur photographer and back then, aside from whatever other kinds of photography he did, he liked to make nude and semi-nude portraits of me. All of his photographs, many of which he printed in black and white and enlarged to 8" by 10" or bigger, were stored in cardboard boxes in the attic of our house. I assumed that when we divorced he had taken them all with him but apparently he hadn't. Upon reflection, it's logical to assume that he wouldn't have wanted to have nude photos of his first wife lying around for a girlfriend or future wife to stumble across.

Apparently, one day without my knowledge, David snooped around in the attic and found the boxes of photographs in question. It's not hard to guess why he extracted the particular print he brought down to his room. In it I am on my hands and knees with the camera pointed at me from a slightly elevated position. My head is tilted up so that my face is visible and I'm looking directly into the camera. My breasts are hanging down so that they appear to be somewhat larger than they would if I were sitting or standing up. Even though I'm totally nude, because of the lighting the picture doesn't show any visible detail below my waist. Of all of these photos that I remember, this was one of the sexier ones. On the surface, David's attraction to it was not hard to figure out. What was hard to figure out was why David would be sexually stimulated by a nude photograph of his mother. I would have thought he would have regarded it as something of a curiosity and put it back where he found it.

Alternatively, he could have chosen a picture of any sweet, young thing he wanted, with or without her clothes on, made a copy on his printer and put that up on his headboard instead. The internet is full of them and no one has ever restricted the web sites he can access. Instead, he chose a photograph of me. I was dumbfounded. 

I thought about it for quite a while that day but I came to no conclusions. I was so discombobulated by what I had seen that whatever was making me feel under the weather earlier that day completely vanished. After I left the coffee shop, I drove around in my car some more and eventually drove home. I arrived at about the same time I would have, had I left from work. When I saw David, he told me that the trip to the baseball game had been cancelled because his father couldn't go. Supposedly Jim had some last minute emergency at work. I said nothing about what I had seen and outwardly, for the next few weeks, life went on pretty much the same way it always had. Inwardly, of course, nothing was the same.

I started looking at David in a whole different light. There is something about knowing that someone is sexually attracted to you, regardless of your relationship to that person, that changes everything. I couldn't get it out of my mind, going over and over again what I had seen him doing. After several days I began to think about David and I having some sort of sexual relationship. At night, lying in bed before going to sleep, I even started having the same kind of thoughts about him that he had apparently been having about me and I started doing the girl version of what he had been doing when I walked in on him. All sorts of wild sexual escapades between the two of us played through my mind. In the most obvious fantasy, of course, I replayed coming to his room the day I came home from work. This time, instead of turning away, I imagined 'surrendering myself to his desires', as they would say on a soap opera. Somehow, in my fantasy I wasn't wearing any panties so I pictured lifting up my skirt, straddling his body and lowering myself on his erection, all with his eager participation of course. 

Probably my most frequently repeated fantasy involved the two of us going for a long hike in the woods. (The guys reading this probably won't find this one very stimulating but to me, it was always very erotic.) At one point while we are walking, we leave the trail looking for a viewpoint and happen upon an idyllic clearing, a place where no one would likely ever see us. After resting for a while, we decide to take off our clothes and bask in the warm afternoon sunshine. David undresses me slowly and lovingly and I do the same to him. We lie in the tall wild grass kissing and touching each other, getting closer and closer to making love but we never quite get there before these thoughts give me my orgasm. 

In the light of the next day, I realized that this kind of thinking was ridiculous and I knew that I could never allow that kind of thing to happen. Normal mothers just don't do that with their sons. Nevertheless, I even started having daydreams about David while I was at work. I took to going to the women's room once or twice a day and relieving my sexual tensions while sitting in one of the stalls. I was wet all the time. It got so bad that I had to use panty liners to avoid the embarrassing possibility of something showing through.

After a few weeks like this, I realized that this preoccupation of mine just wasn't going to go away. In fact, if anything my erotic preoccupations was getting more frequent, more intense and more consuming. Certainly, we could never have actual sex but maybe there was some other solution to my problem. It can't have been more than a day or two later that I finally figured out what I would do.

One morning at breakfast I did the emotional equivalent of hitting David with a sledge hammer. As casually as if I was talking about the weather, I dropped my little bomb shell.

"Oh, by the way, David sweetheart, there's something I've been meaning to talk to you about."

"Yeah. . . what's that?"

"Remember that day a few weeks ago, when you and your dad were going to that baseball game. . . the one he backed out of?"

"Yeah."

"Well, you probably don't realize it but I came home around lunch time," I informed him.

"Really? You must not have stayed very long because I seem to remember you getting here at the same time you usually do." 

"The reason I didn't stay at noon was that I came up to your room to talk to you and by accident I saw what you were doing."

"What I was doing? What do you mean, what I was doing?"

"You know. . . playing with yourself." Instantly, I saw his face turn red, very red in fact. 

"Awww. . . jeeeze mom," and then he became speechless.

I let him suffer for a while and then I said, "There's nothing wrong with that, honey. It's perfectly normal. But what has me puzzled is that I also saw the picture you were looking at."

"Oh my God," he stammered back to me and buried his face in his hands.

"Is there anything you want to tell me about that?" I asked but he made no reply.

"Well then, let me say something. I know that you're probably thinking I'm pretty mad at you about that. And for a while, I was. Now that I've had a chance to think about it, though, I've changed my mind and actually I'm very complimented."

"You're kidding."

"No, really," I assured him. I waited for a while for him to say something more but he remained silent so I continued. 

"Here's the thing: if you ever get the urge to look at me the next time you're doing that, don't feel like you have to drag out one of your dad's old pictures. All you have to do is ask and I'll be happy to take off my top and let you look at me in person." I was hoping that he would look up and talk to me but he didn't. He was still flushed and embarrassed.

"If you ever feel like talking about this, let me know," I said and I got up from the table and left the room, leaving David to regain his composure as best he could.

I didn't see him again until that evening and, even though nothing more was said about it, there was an obvious tension in the air. Our conversations were clipped and infrequent. I was dying to have him say something but I decided to let him be the one to bring it up, if he ever wanted to. I didn't want to force anything. I was secretly hoping that he would take me up on my offer but I had no idea if he would. 

One day passed and nothing was said. Two days. Three days. I had just about given up and resigned to myself that the issue was dead when late one evening, while we were watching TV, totally out of the blue he said something. 

"So, were you kidding the other morning when you said I could look at your. . .?" he asked, indicating my breasts by holding his cupped hands in front of his chest and moving them up and down slightly.

(In retrospect I remember that he was watching TV with this big decorator pillow on his lap. I noticed this because I didn't remember him ever doing that before. My guess is that he wasn't focused on the program we were watching. Instead he was working up the courage to ask me his question and he was, shall we say, suitably enlarged, something that would have been very humiliating to him had I noticed that and then turned him down.)

After a big pause I looked at him and I could see that he was squirming slightly with his eyes darting around, looking very nervous. I gave him my biggest smile and replied, "No, David, I wasn't kidding. Is that what you want?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

It felt like my heart was rising up in my throat and I had trouble making myself talk. I'm sure my pulse rate must have doubled. 

"OK then. . . when would you like this to happen?" I asked.

"How bout right now?"

"That's fine with me," I said, "Why don't you give me a few minutes and I'll meet you in your room," and I went off to fix myself up.

By the time I got to my bedroom I was extremely agitated. I was breathing rapidly as if I had been running in a race. I kept telling myself that this was what I wanted. I was going to get to watch David do it to himself. I couldn't believe my good fortune. Somehow seeing him do that had become of momentous importance to me. I felt like I'd just won the lottery. I tried to focus on how I should dress but I couldn't seem to focus on anything. My mouth was dry and I couldn't make myself swallow.

I suppose I could have gone to him wearing what I already had on but I thought I should make myself a little more enticing so I started by combing my hair and putting on a touch of eyeliner. I applied a hint of this very pale lipstick that I use once in a while, trying to make it almost unnoticeable. I wanted to be as attractive to David as possible without being obvious. I kept on most of my underclothes but I took off my bra and put on this fluffy, white bathrobe I have. That was the sexiest way to dress for him I could think of.

When I got to his room, I tapped on the door and let myself in. I could see that he had gotten into bed. I couldn't tell if he still had any of his clothes on because the covers were pulled up so that only his head was sticking out. What he had been wearing was nowhere to be seen. His knees were bent up off the bed and the bedding was stretched between there and his chin.

"That looks real cozy," I said, "How come you're under the blankets?"

"I don't know. . . I just feel more comfortable doing it here."

I tried not to show it but I was crushed. More than anything I had counted on him being out in the open and now I was finding out that he didn't want to do it like that. It felt like we hadn't agreed on the same thing. On the chance I could get him to change his mind, I tried to prod him a little.

"You seemed to feel perfectly comfortable without any covers the last time I saw you doing it."

"Yeah, but I didn't know you were there." 

"OK. . . well. . . if you're going to hide under there, I don't think I should open my robe either."

"Oh come on. . . you promised you would. . . that's not fair. I never said how I'd do it, did I?"

"Didn't you? Well . . . now that I think about it, I guess you didn't. . . I just assumed you'd do it the way I saw you."

While I tried to figure out what I should do, I could see that David was looking at me intently. His eyebrows were raised and he had a kind of smirk on his face like he was a little kid hoping that I would buy him a toy. Not wanting to disappoint him, I decided to go ahead and give him what he was hoping for.

"OK, I don't want to go back on my word so. . . are you ready?" 

"Yes" 

"Are you playing with yourself?" I asked and he nodded.

"Are you sure? I can't tell if you're doing anything." The way he was hidden made it impossible to tell what was going on underneath the covers.

"Well, I am," he said and as he spoke he lowered his knees. The fluffy comforter on top of his bedding made his motions indistinct but I could see some movement over his middle anyway.

"OK then," I said.

I loosened the tie on my robe and looking down as I did it, carefully opened the top a little ways so I was showing a lot of cleavage.

"I'll bet you like looking down girl's dresses, don't you."


This Mother's Solution Ch. 01



"Uh huh."

"Is this what you like to see?" I asked as I bent over. 

I wasn't hanging out completely but I must have been pretty close to it. I could see that the bedding was moving slightly more than it had been. It suddenly hit me that I was getting ready to expose myself to my son and my head started buzzing. I felt like I was in another world. There have been various times in my life when I've been sexually excited and this was definitely one of those. I was entering into uncharted erotic territory even though I would not get to see much of anything and there was no possibility that anyone was going to so much as touch me. I could talk and understand things but my physical person didn't seem to be taking part.

"What'd ya think, sweetheart. . . should I take this all the way off?" I teased him.

"Yes, definitely."

Without saying anything more, I rose up straight, opened my robe the rest of the way, shrugged it off my shoulders and let the loose part fall down around my waist. The bathrobe still covered me from there on down, held in place by the tie. David didn't say anything and just stared at me. There was nothing covering my breasts anymore. I could see that my nipples were sticking out. Way out. It's like I was looking at someone else's body. I cupped my hands under my breasts and held them up slightly making them protrude a little. I was putting them on display for David. Once in a while I would glide my fingers over the nipples to make sure they remained standing at attention.

I could see the little bumps under the covers happening more frequently now. Suddenly, I felt very uncomfortable because I didn't know what was supposed to happen next. I didn't know if he was going to say or do something or if I was supposed to say or do something. Fortunately my discomfort was short lived because his teeth clamped over his lower lip, his eyes narrowed a bit, he exhaled in a few short breaths and the movement under the covers stopped. 

My guess was he had cum. 

Confirmation came shortly when he looked away from me for the first time since I'd been there. Not wanting to cause him any embarrassment by his having to ask me to leave so that he could clean up in private, I said something like, "I guess that's it then," and pulled my robe back up. Walking towards the door, I said good night to him.

"I hope you enjoyed yourself, honey. Have a good night's sleep."

Anticipating my arrival, I would imagine that David was well on his way to cumming before I even got to his room. That's why, after I got there, things didn't take as long as I thought they would. It's hard to be precise about the time frame because everything I remember about it is sort of a blur. What I do recollect more precisely is what happened immediately afterward. I was so turned on that I went back to my room, got into bed and did to myself exactly what David had just finished doing. No fantasies this time, just replays of what I'd seen, some without the covers in the way. 

In thinking about it afterwards, I had the feeling that I had stumbled my way into some kind of sexual heaven. Even though there was no lovemaking involved, that's the way it felt. It seemed crazy that it should be my son doing this to me but that's the way it was: crazy but wonderful. 

At breakfast the next morning David brought up the obvious subject. 

"Thanks for the show last night, mom. . . that was dynamite."

"Oh, so you liked that did you? Were you a bad boy under the covers? I asked him.

"Jeeeze mom, what a question. . . I guess so. . . yeah, I was."

"Is that better than doing it by yourself?"

"It sure is. . . way better. Can we do it again tonight?"

"Whoa. . . let's not get carried away here. If we ever do that again, you're going to have to come out from under the covers." 

"Awww. . . I knew you'd say that," he said. 

"Are we clear on that? No misunderstandings this time."

"Why is that anyway?" he asked, "what difference does it make to you?"

"It's hard to explain but right now I don't have much of a sex life. As of last night, you're it sweetie-pie. Besides, it's not like I'll be seeing anything I haven't seen already. Remember?"

"I know, but even so. . . it would be so. . . embarrassing. It would take all the fun out of it."

"Oh, I doubt that. I'll bet you'll like it even better." 

"Nooooo way."

"Why don't you try it once and if it really turns you off. . . we'll talk about going back to the way you did it last night," I said.

David didn't give me an answer and our conversation ended with him munching on his bacon and eggs.

The same as before, days passed while David wrestled with the idea of doing such an intimate thing out in the open. This time, however, I had more confidence that horniness would win out and sure enough, eventually it did. Also the same as before, he wanted us to go to his room right after he brought the subject up. My excitement level was even higher because this time I knew I was going to get to watch it all. 

Things started out pretty much the same way except there was a little more conversation beforehand. That's because David was still hoping he could wrangle his way into doing it without coming out from under the covers. So when I got there, once again only his head was showing. This time, though, I knew he was naked because the clothes he had been wearing were piled by the side of his bed. All of them, under shorts and everything. 

As I sat down in his overstuffed chair, I chided him. "Still hiding yourself, I see," and our banter about whether or not he should expose himself began. 

Basically what it came down to was, if he wanted me to open my robe, first he had to take off the covers and after a while, he closed his eyes, tossed them aside and there he was. His erection was lying on his belly and he was partially covering it with one hand. Not being exactly inexperienced in these matters, I thought I was well prepared for what I was looking at but I wasn't. How should I put this tastefully? 

He was huge!

I had only had sex with four men previously, two boyfriends before my husband, and one several months after our marriage ended. David's manhood was dramatically larger than any of theirs. Longer, bigger in diameter, the whole nine yards. He was also larger in overall stature than any of these men, so I guess it's logical that those two things would go together. In any case, this physical characteristic of his made our next bit of conversation considerably easier.

I put my hand over my mouth and exclaimed, "My God, David, you're so big! Come on now, take your hand away. I want to see you better," and hesitantly he did as I asked. 

I probably would have given him this compliment regardless of what size he was, just to boost his ego. Nevertheless, it was a lot easier to be convincing when what I was saying was absolutely true. 

"I had no idea. . . you know, you're quite a bit bigger than your dad." 

Later on I found out that this statement of mine made a huge impression on him. From what I've been told, sons are instinctively in some sort of unconscious sexual competition with their fathers. . . the old Oedipus thing, I suppose.

"Really?. . . Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure. You know, girls like that. You're going to make some young lady very happy some day."

I went on to praise him with as many similar thoughts as I could think of. He didn't seem to be in any hurry to start touching himself but he didn't seem to be getting softer either. Obviously I didn't want that to happen, so without being too explicit, I tried to think of something to encourage him along.

"Listen David, you might find this hard to believe but this is going to be a real education for me. I've never seen a man do it to himself." In point of fact, I wasn't making this up. I never had, not even once. 

"I don't even know how you do it exactly," I went on. This last part was a little bit of a fib because once I had seen a man doing it in a porno flick but he didn't do it to completion. Specifically, I had never seen anyone do it to themselves in person. My husband had never done it in front of me and none of my boyfriends had either. 

"Come on," David said, "that's impossible."

"No, really. When men want to have sex, there's other things they want to do, as I'm sure you well know. Playing with themselves isn't one of them. People do that in private," there was a big pause and then I said, "Why don't you stand it up for me. I want to see how tall it is."

Without any hesitation he did.

"Have you ever measured it, you know, how many inches?" I asked.

"Seven and three quarters," he answered, once again without any hesitation.

"I have no idea what size your dad is but I'm sure it's less than that. How come you know the measurement?"

"One time when me and the guys stayed overnight at Pete's, we got out a ruler and measured 'em. "

"Really. . . so that's the kind of thing you boys do, huh. Were you the biggest?" 

"Yep. . . Brian was close but I was a teeny bit longer."

"How do you make yourselves. . . you know, big like that with all those other boys around?" I asked.

"Peter had a video. . . I think he found it in his dad's stuff. Screwing and. . . you know, that kind of stuff."

"Could I have done that for you boys, do you think?" I asked, playing with the belt on my robe.

"Oooooh yeah. Brian says you're hot. He even said he wouldn't mind having sex with you."

"Oh really. . . he said that did he. Has he ever had sex with anyone?" 

I took this as my cue to begin opening my robe. I made it last as long as possible, first undoing the tie and letting the sides hang slightly apart.

"I don't think so. . . not that I know of." he answered. 

I slid my hand in the opening and moved my palm over one nipple making sure it was erect. David could see the back of my hand moving the robe but he couldn't see any more than that.

"Come on sweetie," I encouraged him, "it's time for you to be a bad boy. . . just like last night

Very hesitantly, almost in slow motion, he put four fingers on the underside of his cock, his thumb on the other and began to move his hand back and forth. Once he got going, he didn't seem to be having any trouble proceeding. I was mesmerized. I hoped he would erupt eventually but I had absolutely no idea what that would look like or when it would happen. 

"You're very sexy, sweetheart. You're turning me on something fierce," I said and I moved my arm so that the robe fell the rest of the way open. I squeezed my nipple between my thumb and forefinger, sending small jolts through my body. 

"I'm getting pretty turned on myself," he replied.

We didn't say anything for quite some time and I sat there watching him stroke his penis. A few times he looked away and increased the speed but he always looked right back.

"Don't hold back, honey. I want to see you make it cum. Can you do that for me?" 

"I think so."

"Do you make a lot of it?" I asked.

"Yep. . . pretty soon," his hand was moving very rapidly now.

"Is it OK for me to watch it happen?"

"Uh huh."

I can't remember exactly what else I said to him but it was more things like that. Then without any warning his eyes widened, he switched from looking at my chest to looking at what he was doing and that was it: 

He was holding himself straight up and down and in one big spurt his cum shot at least 2 feet in the air! Words aren't adequate to describe how seeing that made me feel. I had no idea something that dramatic was even possible. It felt like I'd gotten an electric shock. 

And, of course, that wasn't the end of it. He kept pumping and pumping and more kept coming out. There were at least 3 or 4 more spurts, each one a little smaller than the last with a second or so in between. When he was done, his cum was all over everything, mostly on his hand and his body but some on the bed and even one glob on the carpet. This was way beyond being an education for me. It was a whole new life experience. 

"That was soooo beautiful David. Thank you, thank you, thank you for letting me see it."

Contrary to his earlier reservations, he didn't seem to be at all bothered by my having seen what he had just done. In fact, just as I had predicted to him, he seemed to relish it. I covered myself back up, went to the linen closet in the hall and got him a hand towel to clean up with. When I came back and handed it to him, he had a huge grin on his face. Obviously, he was feeling very masculine. I should have stayed and helped him but I was desperately anxious to get to my room so I could jump in bed and do you-know-what. 

The next morning at breakfast we picked up our conversation right where we'd left off the night before. 

"That was quite a performance you put on last night, David."

"Thanks. I assume that's a compliment."

"It certainly is. I'm sure you're going to want to do it again sometime so let me save you the trouble of asking. I think I liked it almost as much as you did so whenever you want, just say the word."

"How bout tonight?"

"OK, but listen, there's something you've got to explain to me. Considering the, uhhh. . . mess that got all over everything, how come nothing like that happened that first time, when you were under the covers? I mean, you didn't put a bunch of stuff in the wash or anything so where did it all go?"

Before I even finished asking, David was giggling. "You know," he said, "I don't have to have my thing (David's quaint term for his cock and the one he always used when talking to me) pointed up like that when it. . . you know. . . comes out. I can point it down towards my chest and then my stuff stays more in one place. . . like mostly on me."

"Oh, I see. You'll have to show me that sometime. I had no idea you could make it go where you want. Does it always go that high when you send it up in the air?" I asked.

"I guess so. I've never done it that much because, like you said, it makes a mess when you do it that way."

"So, how come you did it that way last night?"

"No reason. Just got carried away I guess. By the way," he continued, "you were right. . . I didn't mind taking the covers off. You know what would be fun too, if you took your bathrobe all the way off."

"Hold on there young man. . . that's not going to happen. What I showed you last night is all you get."

"Awwwww. . . why not? You get to see all of me. Why shouldn't I get to see all of you?"

"There have to be some limits, you know, and that's one of them. I'm your mother not your girlfriend. If you're not happy about that, we can call this off altogether. You could always look on the internet or something cause it's not going to happen with me."

"OK, OK," he said, "don't get steamed. I just thought it wouldn't hurt to ask."

"Just be happy with what you've got."

Just as I expected, we had a repeat performance that night, the next night and for several consecutive nights afterwards. Being the young man that he was, he never wanted to skip a night. 

During our first encounters my nipples would be maximally enlarged long before I got to David's room. The anticipation of what was about to happen always had me aroused. However, after a few of our get-togethers, my nipples started telling me that they required a bit more stimulus before they were willing to put on their little show. All it took to get them to perform was a touch from my fingers, once I had opened my bathrobe, and up they'd stand, looking like miniature fire hydrants. Of course David noticed this and was fascinated.

The third or fourth time he saw me brush them to life he asked me about it.

"That's really neat. Would they stick out like that if I touched them?"

"I'm sure they would."

"So, could I do it sometime?"

"Well, that's a possibility. Let me think about it," I replied. 

I didn't want to have him believe that I was willing to automatically agree to any idea he came up with so I put off giving him an answer. If I let him do this, it would be the first time we had physical contact during one of our sessions. Of course I was inclined to let him do it because it would be kind of like putting frosting on my cake. I knew that letting him touch me there would be very stimulating to me and obviously he would really get a charge out of it himself. If ever there was a heterosexual male who wasn't interested in fiddling with a girl's boobs, I've never met him.



This Mother's Solution Ch. 02



The next time I came to his room, as usual David was lying there waiting for me. Instead of hiding himself the way he had at first, the covers were only up to his waist. I walked over and stood next to his bed.

"Mind if I peek under there?" I asked as I lifted the corner of his sheet and folded everything back to his knees. 

"My, my, what have we here?" I kidded him, referring to his erection, "Why don't you scoot over so I have a place to sit." 

After I sat down I asked, "Would you like to open my robe?" 

His hands were a little shaky and he fumbled around a bit as he did it. I didn't do anything to help him and occupied myself with letting down my hair. When he was done, I took his hand and brought it to me.

"These are for you, tiger."

He started out touching my nipples with the tips of his fingers. They stiffened immediately. He raised his eyebrows.

"See. . . just like I said they would," I told him.

Slowly he got more adventuresome. He cupped them in his hands and squeezed them hesitantly. 

"Oooooh. . . they LIKE that," I encouraged him.

He moved them from side to side with the palm of his hand then held his hand under the bottom of one and lifted it as if judging it's weight. Of course he repeatedly came back to playing with my nipples. Needless to say, no matter what he was doing, it delighted me.

"That's nice, squeeze it a little," I said, referring to the nipple he had between his finger and his thumb, "that feels sooooo good."

I put my hands over his signaling him that I liked what he was doing and wanted him to keep doing it. He was making me more and more aroused.

"I'll bet I know something else you'd like even better," I said.

"What's that?"

"They like to be kissed."

"Wow, really?. . . Can I do that?" he asked, looking incredulous with his eyebrows raised.

"Sure."

He repositioned himself, leaned across my lap and started kissing the side of my breast with tentative little pecks, gradually working his way towards the nipple. When he got there he took it between his lips and sucked softly, brushing it with the tip of his tongue and letting it pop in and out of his mouth. I put my hand behind his head to hold him against me. I felt like I'd died and gone to heaven.

"You're my little baby again," I whispered in his ear.

"So, I got to do this when I was a baby, huh?" he asked, somehow managing to keep everything in his mouth as he spoke.

"For over a year actually," I clarified for him.

For a while he forgot about anything else and nursed me for quite some time. I could feel his erection pressed against the side of my leg. Eventually he pulled his head away, resumed touching my breasts with his hand and started stroking himself with the other. Because of the side I was sitting on, he had to do it with his left hand but, even though he's right-handed, it didn't seem to bother him. 

Before too awfully long he said, "I'm going to cum, mom." 

He had begun telling me when it was about to happen, at my request, a few days before. I loved knowing in advance. It made the anticipation all the more delicious. 

"Here it comes," he exclaimed in a breathy whisper and his cum landed on both of us, part on his chest and part on mine.

And then the strangest thing happened: I spontaneously did something that I had never even considered doing beforehand. 

A fair amount of cum was on my forearm and as soon as I saw it there, I raised my arm and licked it off. David's mouth hung open because he was just as surprised as I was. Neither of us said a word. For a few seconds we froze in place, just staring at each other. I couldn't think of anything earth shattering to say so I made a production of licking my lips. 

"Ummm. . . yummy," I murmered.

He gave me a huge smile and then, right after I swallowed it, for the very first time I leaned over and kissed him on the lips. It wasn't a passionate kiss; just a warm, lingering, loving kiss and he kissed me back the same way. We had never kissed like that before. Not ever.

I stayed very close to him and with our lips barely apart I told him, "I love you."

"Can I kiss you again?" he whispered back and as I nodded 'yes' he did, this time much more ardently. Wet and warm our lips glided over each other, back and forth. As I registered that it was my very own son I was doing this with, a tingling sensation went through my whole body. I clearly remember feeling that.

Considering my past experiences, in more ways than one this whole thing was very unusual. I had performed oral sex on my husband a few times but I didn't particularly like doing it. I had always spit out his cum because it seemed like the obvious thing to do. He had never told me that men like it if you swallow it. My best girlfriend told me that years later. I think it implies some kind of acceptance or something. Somehow my son's cum was different. It didn't really have any flavor, kind of the same as egg whites, but taking it into my mouth and swallowing it seemed to be an almost spiritual thing. I know that sounds ridiculous but that's the way I felt.

In the logical sequence of things, I'm sure that the reader can figure out what happened next. With me sitting on his bed every night and my son right next to me, stroking himself to orgasm, it was inevitable. I knew it was going to happen and I anticipated that he would ask. Surprisingly he didn't. Instead of making any kind of request verbally, one time he silently took my hand, placed it on his cock and with raised eyebrows and a half smile on his face, looked at me expectantly. I let my hand lie there and I didn't remove it but I didn't do anything with it either. Of course I knew exactly what he had in mind.

"I don't know if that's such a good idea," I said. "You know what happens. . . one thing leads to another and before you know it, we've gone too far." 

The whole time I'm saying this my hand is where he put it, lying there, motionless. Even though I wasn't doing anything to stimulate him, I felt his cock reacting to my hand's presence. It wasn't getting bigger, because it was already as big as it could get, but periodically it tensed and lifted a fraction of an inch off his abdomen, lifting my hand with it.

"Oh no, I swear on a stack of bibles," he said, "I'll never ask for anything else. Please, PLEASE." 

"I don't know. . . I just don't think I ought to do this," at which point he put his hand over mine, pushed down slightly and tried to move my hand back and forth.

"Oh, come on. . . please. . . I promise I'll be good."

"Well. . . I'm taking you at your word, young man. . . I know I'll regret this but maybe just this one time. . ." 

And with that I slid my fingers underneath and slowly started moving my hand back and forth. 

"Is that right?" I asked. 

"JUUUUST right," he answered and lay back on his pillow grinning from ear to ear. As I proceeded, he clasped his hands behind his head with his elbows sticking out to each side, his eyes focused on what I was doing.

"You've got to tell me what to do," I said, "I've never done anything like this before. Am I holding it firmly enough?"

"That's about right. . . maybe a little bit harder." 

A minute or so went by and the whole time I was enjoying more and more what I was doing. I was stroking him more slowly than what I remembered was his usual pace but I thought that would make things last longer. I was having too much fun to want to cut it short. I knew that at that moment, David was totally under my control. It was an exhilarating feeling.

"How fast?" I inquired, "Let me know when you want me to go faster or slower."

"OK. . . keep doing it like that for a while. That feels soooo good, you can't believe it." 

There was this kind of slippery bump that my fingers felt as they glided over the ridge between the head and the shaft. The head was noticeably more purple colored. After a while, he spoke again.

"Just a little bit faster. . . yeah, yeah. . . faster. . . faster. . . oh, man." 

By now I was moving my hand very rapidly and I was wondering how long I could keep it up. My arm was getting tired so I tried stopping for a few seconds and squeezing him firmly while I rested. I did this a few times and I could see by the expression on his face that he was liking it. Each time I started stroking again, he closed his eyes, pulled back his lips and I could see that he was clenching his teeth together. 

At some point I changed how I was holding him so that my fingers wrapped all the way around the shaft. It was like I was afraid I was going to lose my grip. I did manage to keep stroking him, however, and all of a sudden without my knowing it was coming, the spurts began! The feeling was magical.

I pumped him as fast as I could. 

I could feel each pulse under my fingers. I was so wrapped up in what I was doing that I unconsciously transferred what was happening to him back to me and I made a grunting noise with each eruption. I was feeling a sexual high that was unlike anything I had ever experienced. It's hard to explain what that felt like but I would imagine that it's similar to the way you would feel if, for the first time in your life and with no training at all, you were given the control of an airplane while it was soaring through the air. 

I've totally blanked out on what happened immediately afterwards but by the time I got back to my room, I was shaking. I got in bed gave myself incredible orgasms. I don't believe I had ever been vocal when giving myself pleasure but that night I was. Very vocal with moaning and groaning and whatnot. 

The next morning, what David said surprised me.

"You know mom, I heard you last night, after you went back to your room." 

When he said this I was sitting at the kitchen table with my back to him, looking at the newspaper. I hoped I had misunderstood what he was saying. 

"What do you mean?" I responded, pretending to be distracted by what I was reading. 

This was the first time that it had crystallized in my consciousness that I had been making sounds of ecstasy while I was masturbating. Even had I realized at the time what I was doing, it never would have occurred to me that David could hear me, with two closed bedroom doors and a length of hallway in between us. 

"You know what I mean, ELLEN," he said. 

The way he emphasized my name went off like a gunshot in my ears. He hardly ever called me by name. It was always "mom" or "mother" or "hey, you" or something like that. The way he said it made it sound like he was talking to a girlfriend rather than a parent. 

Even though I kept staring at the paper, my attention was totally focused on what he was saying. Unfortunately, no reply came to mind. There was something about the idea of him knowing that I was masturbating that made me extremely uncomfortable so I just sat there, frozen in silence. In spite of what was happening between us, I was still his mother and it seemed like this subject was a little too personal for us to be discussing. Talk about ironies: it was OK for me to know that he was masturbating and it was even OK for me to help him do it but in my mind, the reverse was out of bounds

After a while he said, "I was blown away last night. That was the best ever. From the sound of it, you must have liked it too, huh?"

I thought for a while and then in quiet, drawn out, measured tones, trying to sound severe and not very pleased that he was asking me that, I said, "Y-e-s D-a-v-i-d, I d-i-d."

"So, does that mean we can do it that way again?"

"I didn't know you were going to like it that much, " I lied, "but. . . it just so happens I liked it too. So if that's what you want, I suppose we will. Like I told you before, you're all the sex life I've got."

There was a break in the conversation and after a while I put the paper in my lap, looked over my shoulder at him and continued. 

"You're probably thinking I'm a pushover. . . letting you talk me into these things. . . one thing's not going to change though, no matter what. We're never going to have regular sex. . . you do know that don't you? That's not going to happen."

"Yeah, I figured as much."

"I'm glad to hear that," the relief in my voice obvious and I turned back to look at the paper. There was a break in the conversation and I assumed David was getting his breakfast together. After a while he spoke to me again.

"You know mom, I wish you hadn't left so soon last night cause I wanted you to do it to me again." 

"Again. . . what do you mean, again? I thought you were done."

"Not really." 

As he was saying that, I felt his hand on the back of my head, pulling my hair to one side and then I felt something soft touch the back of my neck. Startled, I turned around in my chair and what I saw surprised me: while I wasn't looking, he had unbuttoned his jeans, lowered his shorts and there he was, hard as a rock! He had touched the back my neck with the end of his cock. He wasn't even holding it with his hand. It was sticking out like a little flag pole.

"David!" I exclaimed, "What on earth. . ." 

"If you wanted to be nice you could make up for leaving too soon right now."

"Oh, really? Well, aren't I the lucky one. You know I told you that was going to be a one time thing."

"I was kind of hoping you'd change your mind."

"I'll just bet you were. Besides. . . I had no idea it was even possible for you to. . . you know. . . that often. Are you sure you can do that again, so soon?" 

"You bet," and he reached down, took my hand and guided it to him.

"Boy, aren't you the horny one," I said and I started stroking him. "You sure aren't like your dad. It usually took him two or three days to recover."

He was standing right in front of me as I sat there and after a while he rested his hands on top of my head. I could feel his fingers contract and relax as he grasped my hair, keeping time with my motions as my hand went back and forth. I started out looking at what I was doing but after a while I looked up and our eyes met. I opened my mouth slightly and began breathing very deeply, the whole time with us looking at each other. Needless to say, it was a VERY intimate moment between us. 

"This is making me very hot, David, are you getting close?" I asked.

"Uh-huh"

"Cum for me sweetheart. . . I want to see it."

I was all dressed up for work and I recall that I momentarily panicked about the possibility of getting my clothes messed up when the inevitable happened. It crossed my mind to keep that from happening by taking him in my mouth but that was out of the question so just in the nick of time I cupped my other hand in front of him. 

"Uhhhhh. . . uhhhhh. . . oooooh yeah," he moaned. 

Towards the end of his orgasm, his hands were gripping my hair so tightly it hurt a little. Once again, just like the previous night, the feeling of his cock thrusting through my fingers and seeing each spurt of cum from just inches away was mesmerizing. After he was done and he saw the pool of white liquid in the palm of my hand, he wanted me to take it in my mouth. I can't remember how he phrased it but that's what he wanted. 

"Not this time, baby. Maybe some other time," I replied.

Cleaning up afterwards wasn't a big job. David wiped himself off with a paper towel; I washed my hands in the sink and we were both as good as new. 

Needless to say, after that our get-togethers changed completely. From then on it was always me doing the handiwork. Once or twice I watched him do it to himself, just the way we started out, but that was the exception. Also, that was the first time we did this kind of thing outside of David's bedroom. Naturally it wasn't the last. 

Weeks later we went shopping one evening. We both had some things we wanted to buy at various stores so we set out on a trip to the local mall. I was driving. As we drove on a stretch of empty road, David decided to indulge himself. He reached across the car's center console, slipped his hand inside my coat, unbuttoned the top buttons of my blouse and tried to slip his fingers inside my bra. He couldn't quite navigate this maneuver and had to settle for cupping my breast through the fabric. Nevertheless, it was a deliciously erotic thing to do and it stimulated me immensely.

"Careful young man, you're going to get yourself in trouble," I warned him.

When we got to the mall, before we got out of the car, David said, "Hey mom, there seems to be a problem here," nodding down towards his lap. 

I looked over to see what it was he was talking about. He had an erection and it was obvious even though it was inside his trousers. There was no way we were going anywhere with him looking like that. 

"I think you should take care of it for me," he said.

"WHAT? Right here? Are you kidding? Someone might see us. No way I'm doing anything like that."

"Would you rather walk around with me looking like this?"

I thought about it for a while, drumming my fingers on the steering wheel and asked, "Can't we just wait for it to go down?"

"I have the feeling that's not going to happen. You've got me all worked up." 

There was another big pause and then he told me his solution.

"You could park over there where there's no cars," he said, looking towards an empty part of the lot that was farther away from the entrance to the mall. 

"We could see someone coming long before they got there," he added.

"Yeah, but. . ." 

"No buts. Come on, let's do it."

The more I thought about the idea, the more it was tempting me. It was an incredibly stupid thing to do but I decided to go along. 

"OK," I said after a long pause, "but you'd better make it quick. I don't want this to backfire on us."

I started up the car and drove over. David had his pants open before I even parked. Seated the way we were, I would have had to reach over to him with my left hand which I didn't relish doing, plus the console was in the way, so I suggested we switch sides and get in the back seat. He had to zip up again but that's what we did. As soon as he was ready for me, I sat sideways facing him, conjured up as much saliva as I could muster, spit it into my hand and smoothed it over his cock. The image that made, his erection glistening in the light from one of the towers illuminating the parking lot, has stayed with me to this day. I can picture it like a photograph.

I didn't fool around with any build up because I wanted him to cum as quickly as possible, so I stroked him as hard and as fast as I could. The whole time I kept looking back and forth between David and the parking lot to see if anyone was coming but fortunately no one did. My accelerated pace did make it quick but there was a factor that neither one of us had counted on. There was no way for me to get my left hand in position, like I had weeks earlier at the kitchen table, so he spurted all over everything. On his clothes, on parts of the car. . . everything. And to make matters worse, there was nothing handy to clean up with. So the irony was, in spite of what we'd done, we didn't make it to the mall anyway. We had to go back home and erase the signs of our behavior, sinners that we were. Regardless, it was an adventure for the record books.

Right after this, David became noticeably more sexually aggressive. He took to being "fresh" (an old-fashioned term I've always liked) with me. It's like we had a certain kind of sexual familiarity with each other. For my part, I didn't mind at all because I loved the attention. 

Of all the things he liked to do when we weren't in his room, probably his number one favorite was playing with my boobs. Even when there was nothing serious to immediately follow, he liked to slip his hand inside my blouse, cup my breast and feel the nipple grow hard. This might happen at any time: when he'd sneak up behind me while I was doing things in the kitchen, when we were sitting next to each other on the couch watching TV, any time at all. Often he'd kiss my neck or stick his tongue in my ear and nibble on my earlobe at the same time. To accommodate him, I took to running around the house with no bra under whatever I was wearing. Even though we weren't having actual sex, David treated me more like a lover than any of my previous boyfriends ever had, including his father Jim. 




This Mother's Solution Ch. 03



And then there was New Year's Eve.

Neither David nor I had made any plans with other people so we decided to stay at home and celebrate by ourselves. To liven things up, a few days before, on my way back from work, I stopped at the store and bought us a bottle of Champaign. Since I wasn't much of a drinker, that night it only took a couple of glasses before I was feeling tipsy. I'm sure David was too. We should have rented a movie but instead we tuned in the TV to the traditional Dick Clark countdown from Times Square. Of course, that was just as boring as it always is so our attention drifted to other things.

After a little more of the bubbly stuff, we were sitting on the couch cuddling and petting. The only thing that interrupted us was when we'd stop to have more to drink. Unbelievably (to me anyway) after a couple of hours we finished the whole bottle. To call a spade a spade, by then we were both dead drunk.

I don't remember much of anything after that except that some how, some way I ended up giving David oral sex. And the only reason I remember even that much is one little detail that registered through my alcoholic fog: the temperature of his cum. Considering that I had done oral several times with other men, which means that I should have known about the particulars in advance, it seems a little odd that the only thing that stuck in my mind is that his cum felt like it had been heated in the microwave.

Naturally, on New Year's Day we talked about what we had done the night before. David seemed to remember a lot more about it than I did and he reminded me of some things that I wasn't particularly thrilled to hear.

"I think last night's going to be my all time favorite New Year's party, mom."

"Really. . . let me ask you something. . . I didn't misbehave by any chance, did I?"

"Oh, I don't know. . . depends on how you look at it."

"Uh oh. . . Did I really. . ." and he knew what I was asking without my even saying it.

"Yes you did."

"I was afraid of that. What else did I do?" I asked him.

"Nothing much really. . . let's see, you tried to swallow my thing."

"I WHAT??? What on earth are you talking about?" I asked.

"You know. . . you tried to take it all the way in your mouth. Deep throat I think it's called."

"Oh my God!"

"But you didn't make it. . . you gagged."

"I can't believe this. . ., " I stammered.

"Who cares," David said, "there's always next time." 

"Are you kidding? There isn't going to be a next time. We're not going to do that again. It's too much like regular. . . you know. . . screwing. You know as well as I do, we got carried away. We both had too much to drink."

(As a side note, several years earlier I had managed "deep throat" with a boyfriend. Most likely that was because his penis is quite a bit smaller. He and David aren't even in the same league, size-wise. David's dad is sort of in-between but, even though he likes oral sex, remarkably, he never asked me to do it to him so I never did. I imagine I tried to do it for David simply because I wanted to please him.)

Speaking of oral sex, coincidentally, about a week later my computer crashed and I had to take it to the shop for repair. Not wanting to let my email stack up, I asked David if I could use his PC once in a while to see if I had any messages. One weekend afternoon when I went to his room to do that, I noticed that David had left his web browser running with his "Favorites" list superimposed on one side. I wasn't inclined to snoop but I couldn't help noticing that he had created several folders to categorize the various sites he had bookmarked. One of those folders was titled "Girls". My curiosity got the better of me, so I opened that folder and inside were a half dozen or so web site addresses, all of them, as I discovered when I opened them, porno stuff.

That part didn't surprise me. I knew that boys David's age (or boys of any age for that matter) were interested in that kind of thing. What did surprise me, however, was that they were all oriented to a very specific kind of sex. Some were collections of still photographs and some were videos. Regardless of the format, they were all what the copy on the web sites referred to as "cum shots". David wasn't home so I spent a bit of time going through them. 

After looking for a while, I determined that David was fascinated by this part of oral sex. As long as what we were doing didn't involve him putting his penis in my mouth, I had no problem with that. I wanted to give him as much pleasure as I could so the images I was seeing became a kind of teaching tool for me. 

The next time I came to his room, I wanted to treat him to some of what I had learned. Having had a lot of practice, when I was stroking him I could tell when he was close to cumming.

"Are you getting there, sweetheart?" I asked.

"Uh huh."

"Cum on my face, baby."

"Oh, wow." 

I leaned over and held my head just inches away from the end of his cock. The first spurt landed on my cheek and the rest close by. I must have been quite a sight with his sperm splashed all over my face. 

"Wow. . . that was great! Oh, geeze mom. . . some almost got in your eye," he said and he took his thumb and wiped it away.

"I didn't know you'd go for that," he continued, "I was afraid to ask."

Usually, we took a break of 10 or 15 minutes before David was ready for a repeat performance but this time he was so aroused that he wanted to begin the second round immediately. My hand and his cock were still wet from the first time, so we made a lot of squish, squish, squishing sounds. It was a calendar night for both of us.

Speaking of squishing sounds, at this same time I hit on the idea of occasionally using a lubricant. I didn't have anything appropriate in my toiletries so instead I filled a little glass vial with olive oil. I would pour a stream over his cock as it lay on his abdomen and, just to be sure there was plenty, I would pour some in the palm of my hand. Seeing the oil coating his big, shinny pillar of flesh and watching it ooze between my fingers and run over the back of my hand, gave me a definite thrill.

Starting out each time with this new olive oil thing, over the next several days I treated David to a variety of "cum shots", all of which I borrowed from his bookmarked web sites. Sometimes I would stick out my tongue just before the climactic moment and he would try to deposit his cum there. We usually did this with David standing up. Other times I would position my face maybe half a foot or a foot away. This was a mixed success because a smaller percentage made it to my mouth, which is where he wanted it to go. And then there were times when I positioned myself even farther away and his cum would land who knows where. I know these things were very close to being actual oral sex but since I was making him cum with my hand and not with my mouth, that difference made it acceptable to me. 

Right around this same time, David started focusing on how I was dressed when we were having our little sexcapades. I discovered from our conversations that he was stimulated by having me wear certain kinds of under garments, especially the old-fashioned kind. Instead of my bathrobe, he liked me to come to him wearing regular clothes. Often I would dress the same as I would before going to work. It was all very kinky but we both loved the erotic charge it gave us.

After we had talked for a while, I would invite him to undress me but I only allowed him to go part way. I always kept my lower half covered. When he took off my skirt or dress or pant suit, I usually had on very skimpy and alluring under things. I never wore a thong for him but I did wear lace trimmed, high-cut panties from time to time. He also liked thigh high stockings. For a change of pace, one time I modeled old style nylons for him, held up with a garter belt. He liked those even better. To finish things off, for shoes he loved to have me wear high-heeled pumps. I kept those, my panties and my stockings on even after he had removed the rest of my clothes.

One time when I was dressed this way, I turned around to pick up a book that I had accidentally knocked off his desk. As I was doing that, David shamelessly confessed to me what he was looking at. My legs were straight and I was bent over at the waist with my butt pointed towards him.

"Geeeze mom. . . dad should have taken a picture of you from this angle. You look so. . . sexy. I love the way your panties stretch across. . . between your legs back there." Even though he expressed it imprecisely, obviously he was referring to the fabric covering his favorite opening in my body.

"You'd like to see under there, wouldn't you." I teased him as I looked over my shoulder in his direction.

Our undressing procedure became a kind of sex all by itself, right from the time he unbuttoned the top button on my blouse until he unzipped my skirt and dropped it to the floor. Every once in a while he would get carried away and place his hand on my pussy, holding it through the silk of my panties and pressing one of his middle fingers inward. While he was doing this, he would embrace me with his other arm, holding his body against mine and nuzzling my hair with his nose. As marvelous as this felt to me, it always ended the same way.

"No darling. . . you know that's not a good idea," I would whisper to him. 

Even though it was contrary to what I was saying, I would press my hips against his hand in a couple of little thrusts, giving him the impression that what he was doing was irresistible to me, which in fact it was. Regardless, he knew this was something he was not supposed to be doing so he would stop. Occasionally he was naughty this way but by and large he always respected my wishes. 

It was now maybe 4 or 5 months since the first time I had come to David's room and with a few exceptions, things continued pretty much the same way for the next several months. One night was decidedly out of the ordinary because of something David had been pestering me about repeatedly. Our discussion about it usually went something like this:

"How come you get to see me naked all the time but I never get to see you, except for those?" he would ask, indicating my breasts.

"There's all kinds of reasons, David. For one thing women are more modest. For another, I don't want this to get out of hand. Mothers just don't show themselves to their sons that way, now do they."

After a while, though, I got tired of him needling me about it so I caved in and agreed to give him what he wanted. I made it clear that this was going to happen only once. 

As it happened, I had a CD with some old instrumental music on it. One cut featured the kind of saxophone music you would expect to hear while buxom girls with tassels glued to their nipples paraded across the stage. I thought this would create an appropriate atmosphere while I treated David to my strip-tease so I brought it with me and had him put his player on "Repeat" while I performed. I explained the idea behind what I was doing and he seemed to like it.

Before I got started, I made him promise to stay on his bed while he watched me from across the room. I made sure that I was wearing all of his favorite undergarments and as I undressed, I exaggerated my movements the same way a stripper in a sleazy night club would. The whole time I was doing this, David was getting into the humor of the situation, mock yelling out inappropriate comments to me as if he was a drunk in the audience.

"Let your hair down you sexy thing," and I did what he asked, taking it down from being pinned up.

"Yeah, that's right," he went on.

Then it was, "hey girlie, show me your tits," so I slowly unbuttoned my blouse, shrugged it off my shoulders, twirled it on my finger and tossed it aside.

"Come on baby, take off that bra."

"Oooooh, nice. Look at that. . . your nips are sticking out."

"Shake those boobs for me," and I bent forward and wiggled them with my hands.

"Aaalll right, you've got nice ones, sweetie!"

"Lift up that skirt. . . higher. . . higher. . ."

"Need help with that zipper? No? Well, take the damn thing off."

"No, no. Leave those nylons on," he said as I started to roll down my thigh-highs. 

"Take off those panties instead." 

Before I did it, I turned my back to him, hooked my thumbs in the waistband and pushed them down very, very gradually, an inch at a time. When they got to my knees, I let them drop to the floor.

"That's a good girl, now turn around," he suggested.

I put my hands on top of my head and did as he asked. For the first time ever, I was fully exposed to him. I don't keep my pubic hair cropped in a narrow row, the way a lot of women do these days but I do trim it short. I started doing that when I was married to Jim, at his request, and I've kept it that way ever since. For a few seconds I felt self conscious with David being able to see me this way but I got over it quickly.

"Jeeeeeze mom," he said, slipping out of character, "I can't believe it. . . you are one good lookin lady! You know, you're a whole lot more attractive now than you were when dad took those pictures." 

"Why thank you. It's nice of you to say so."

"No, really. . . hey. . . remember when you picked up my book off the floor the other day?. . . do that again."

"DAVID!. . . that would be embarrassing," I said.

"Come on. . . who cares. I've just about seen it all anyway. . . go on. . . do it." 

"I know what you want to look at, you little devil. That's all you guys think about, isn't it." 

I turned my back to him again, put my feet a ways apart, bent over and wrapped my arms around my legs from the inside, grasping the back of my ankles. My hair was loose and hanging down on the floor. David, much to his pleasure, had a bird's eye view of the most personal part of my anatomy. Looking through my legs, I could see him upside-down. He was masturbating like crazy. 

As I explained at the beginning of this article, David and I met for our trysts regularly for over a year. Then something happened to change that: he lost his virginity. He started having sex with Kristy and our nightly encounters tapered off. They never stopped completely though. I was disappointed but I was very happy for him. Plus, I was relieved to know that what we had been doing hadn't messed up his natural sex life. Eventually David moved out to share an apartment with Kristy and things between us slowed down even more. 

After David stopped living with me, I became reacquainted with a fellow named Ken who had been a good friend in college. Eventually Ken and I got married. David and Kristy eventually split up and after that David met and married a sweet girl named Jessica. I assumed that things between us had come to an end.

Several months later, David stopped by to visit me, one of the many times he had done that since we stopped living together. I was still in our original home because, even though Ken and I were dating, we hadn't yet married. When David got there, we shared a bit of small talk and then he said something I never expected to hear.

"You know mom, this will probably surprise you but I can't get it out of my mind. . . what we used to do in my bedroom. . . ," there was a long pause and then he continued, "I want to do it again." 

Hearing him say that stunned me. 

"Oh my God, honey. Are you sure? I didn't think. . ."

"The truth is, I've never had it like that with anyone else. What we used to do just turns me on more. . . I can't help it. It just does," he stammered, looking at the floor as he talked. I could tell he was feeling very emotional and having a hard time talking.

"I can't believe you're saying this. . . do you know how wrong that would be? You're married to Jessica."

"Yeah, but it was also wrong before Jessica and I got married. That never stopped us, did it."

"No. . . I guess it didn't," I replied, "You know, I don't think she'd be too thrilled if we did that and she found out about it." 

"Well, I won't tell her if you don't," he said.

"Is there something wrong with the sex you have with her?"

"Not really. . . but there's more to it than that. It's because you're my mother. That's what makes it exciting. . . ten times more exciting. Sex with her is OK but what we used to do is something else. It's like two different things. I can't explain it."

"That's OK sweetheart, you don't have to explain it to me. . . I shouldn't tell you this but I know what you're talking about. . . I know EXACTLY what you're talking about because that's the way it is with me too." 

"Listen mom. . . no more foolin around. . . I'm so hot for you I can't stand it. . . you know we're gonna do it." 

I could feel the excitement tightening my chest. I knew he was right. I hadn't felt this way in a long, long time and thought I'd never feel it again.

"I can't believe this," was all I could reply.

"This time we're going to do something different, though."

"Oh God. . . what's that?"

"You're gonna take me in your mouth," he said.

"OH, no. I can't do that and. . ."

"Yes you can, you already have. . . you did it New Year's Eve and you're going to do it now. I've wanted you to do that for so long that. . . you're just gonna. I'm not taking no for an answer."

His eyes locked on mine. The silence and the tension was unbearable. I knew I couldn't talk him out of it so I didn't say anything. We just looked at each other and I felt this strange calm come over me. I felt like I was floating. Sex with David wasn't over after all. I waited to see what would happen next and when he stood up from his chair and moved in front of where I was sitting, I got my answer.

"Unbutton em," he said and I knew he meant the buttons closing the waist and the fly of his jeans. 

Comically, it was difficult to do because he was already erect, making them hard to squeeze through their holes. When I dropped his pants down around his ankles, he pulled down his boxer shorts and there it was, as big and beautiful as ever, sticking out from below hisT-shirt. I raised my arm intending to take hold of his erection but he pushed my hand away before I got there.

He tried to bring me closer by pulling me forward in my chair but it was evident that this wasn't going to work because my knees and the chair seat got in the way so he stepped back and kept moving me towards him. I fell to my knees by his feet. I hoped he couldn't tell but I was starting to shake. 

He put his hands on the sides of my head and guided himself towards my lips. I started by kissing the head several times and licking all around it. I had to keep it in place by holding the shaft with my hand. After a while I surrounded the end with my lips and brushed the tip of my tongue back and forth across the opening. And then he started pushing deeper. 

Fortunately, he didn't try to force himself in too far before pulling back. As he increased the speed of his thrusts, he moved my head back and forth with his hands. I dropped my hand and kept both of them down at my side so he could dictate the tempo. I looked up at him to be sure I was doing what he wanted. After a while, he pulled himself almost all the way out.

"Suck on it," he said and I did, letting the head pop in and out of my lips. With all the saliva, it made a slurping noise each time it came out. I did this over and over again. 

"Harder," he commanded and I took it in a little farther and started sucking more vigorously. 

I cupped his scrotum in my hand, squeezing his balls very gently.

"It's been more that a week," he breathed huskily, "this is gonna be a big one." 

I grasped the side of his hips and moved my head as fast as I could. 

"Here it comes, mom. . ."

His cum burst into my mouth so strongly it made me choke and sputter. I had to pull back. As I tried to clear my throat, I instinctively closed my eyes and I could feel more cum landing on my forehead and in my hair. 




This Mother's Solution Ch. 04



When I posted Chapter 3 of This Mother's Solution on literotica, I had serious reservations about continuing my sexual involvement with my son David. I was concerned that doing so would cause psychological damage to us both. In the months since then, a number of things have caused me to change my thinking about that, the most important of which is the email correspondence I received from literotica readers who have sent me their comments.

I have established pen-pal type relationships with about a dozen of these respondents. Our communications have been uniformly delightful to me. Most (but not all) are with people who either have been, or currently are, involved in incestuous mother-son relationships. To a person, they all have expressed positive feelings and emotions to me about their experiences. None seem to have been psychologically harmed in any way that I can detect. I had been expecting just the opposite, which is why I terminated what David and I were doing, wanting to cut things off before they got out of hand and progressed further than they already had. Being irresistibly attracted to him, both sexually and emotionally, and with the new knowledge that my readers had given me, I felt that there was no good reason for us to continue the separation I had imposed upon on us.

I knew that David didn't share my initial reservations so, after thinking about it for quite some time, I came up with a plan that would not only restore our intimacy to what it had been previously but take it several steps further. That's what this chapter, and the ones following, are about.

As a note of caution to the reader, I should say something about the sexual activity depicted in my writing. If someone is looking for raw, explicit, detailed descriptions, he/she would probably do better to look elsewhere. I don't write like that. I try to make my writing as erotic as possible, because that's how most of these experiences felt to me, but perhaps eroticism has a slightly different meaning for a woman than it does for a man. 

The vacation mentioned in this chapter's subtitle took place in the northwestern United States, which is also where my son and I live. On the off chance that either of us were seen by someone we know (without our realizing it), with the exception of the City of Seattle, I have purposely refrained from specifically naming any of the places we visited.

When I first started thinking about the best way to bring David and I back together, I was reminded of what I had gone through years before when I had seen David masturbating while looking at my photograph. After that happened, I was casting about for a way to let him satisfy his sexual longing for me without compromising our basic mother-son relationship. The situation now was remarkably similar but with some major differences, the main one being that I no longer had any reservations about us having sex, in the usual sense of the word. Doing that would be an incredibly giant step for us, simply because we had never done it.

This would be one the most important events of my life. For that reason, I wanted to make it as special as I could. Going together to a cheap motel for a few hours was not even a possibility. I wanted us to spend days in each other's arms, not hours. Unfortunately, for a long time I couldn't figure out a way to make that happen without arousing the suspicions of our respective spouses. I was in a quandary about what to do. I didn't bring David in on my dilemma because I knew that he wouldn't be as concerned about the niceties of the situation as I was. To put it crudely, once he knew what my intentions were, he'd be about as subtle as a dog in heat and I wouldn't have the will power to stop him.

Surprisingly enough, the spark of inspiration came from my husband Ken. One day at breakfast he told me that he was thinking of going to a convention related to the work he does and he asked me if I wanted to come with him. This event was being held in Las Vegas. Ken told me that most of the time we were there, I would be on my own while he went to talks and presentations. Wandering around Las Vegas all by myself wasn't an appealing prospect to me, so I declined. Among other potential difficulties, I'm not interested in gambling. It can't have been more than a few minutes after Ken and I finished talking about this that a devious scheme crept into my head.

I knew that several months in the future, David and his wife Jessica were planning a vacation in Hawaii. Several weeks earlier, I recalled overhearing the two of them discussing how long they should stay. David was saying that he wanted to make it for several weeks to justify the expense of flying over there and the day-long travel time each leg of the trip would take. Jessica told him that the maximum vacation allotment she had available where she worked was 2 weeks, so that was how long they ended up planning to go. David had no vacation time restrictions, because his job was done on a piece work basis. He could take time off whenever he wanted. He had to have a job like that to make time for going to classes at the local community college.

David and Jessica come over to our house every week or two to visit and the next time we were all sitting down at the dinner table together, I set my plan in motion.

"Ken tells me that towards the end of June, he's going to a convention in Las Vegas for about a week," I announced to nobody in particular. "I was thinking that since he gets to be away, fooling around with show girls or whatever they do down there, the three of us should get to go on our own little vacation. My treat, of course."

"Sounds good to me," David replied, "what'd you have in mind?"

"Oh, I don't know. . . nothing too spectacular. There's actually some pretty nice spots around here within driving distance. One I was thinking of is this nice place by a lake up on the Olympic peninsula. I was there one time years ago. . . it's very nice." 

I didn't want to embarrass Ken so I neglected to mention that the place I was thinking of was where I went on my honeymoon with David's father. David might have guessed this was where I was talking about, but, if he did, he had the tact not to say anything.

"Sure," said David, "What'd ya think, Jess?"

"You know Davy, with our Hawaii thing, I'm using all my vacation time, so I probably couldn't go."

"Oh, darn, isn't that a shame," I said, trying to make myself sound as disappointed as possible. "Well, that's too bad. . . it was just an idea."

I was just about to suggest that as an alternative, David and I could go by ourselves when remarkably, almost unbelievably, Jessica beat me to it.

"I'll check at work and see if they'll give me some extra time off. . . maybe I can even take some time without pay. . . we could afford that, couldn't we honey?" she asked, reaching across the table and patting David's arm.

"Absolutely," he replied.

"But if they won't," she went on, "why don't the two of you just go by yourselves?"

I was dumbstruck. The Gods had smiled down on me. It was looking like the whole idea of David and I going off together somewhere was Jessica's, not mine. I'm sure my blood pressure had skyrocketed into the red zone but somehow I managed to stammer out a reply, hopefully sounding cool and collected.

"That's a marvelous suggestion Jessie but why don't you check things out at work first and we'll figure out what to do after that."

I looked over at David to see how he was taking all this but he was staring down at his dinner plate, appearing unconcerned about the whole thing. I could see that he was looking a little flushed, however, because his ears had reddened. I can only imagine what he was thinking. A few days later he called me on the phone and I got my answer. After some unrelated conversation, David brought it up.

"Jess is kind of bummed out because they won't give her any more time off but she's still saying we should go by ourselves."

"Really. . . well. . . should we?"

"Come on. . . are you kidding? Of course we should. The question is do YOU think we should."

"Sure, why not?" I said, teasing him a little.

"Listen mom, you know as well as I do that if we're alone together for very long it could lead to. . . you know. . . complications."

"Not if you're a good boy and behave yourself."

"Oh, geeeeze. . . so how long were you thinking of making this?" David asked.

"Well, Ken's gone all the week of the 23rd and he'll be back on Sunday the 29th, so I was thinking that's when we should go too.

"Where are we going, by the way?"

"It's a surprise. I'll tell you after we leave. We'll take my car, though, cause I get better mileage than that damn pickup of yours. All I'll tell you now is we'll be staying by a lake in the woods, so bring things accordingly," and shortly after that we rang off.

This was setting up even more ideally than I had dreamed it would. Maybe it's my perverse nature but I liked the idea of David not knowing what was going to happen right up until the last minute. Of course, I knew exactly what he wanted to happen but he had no way of knowing if it would. Even though we were both married and had reasonably active sex lives with our spouses, I'm sure he was masturbating just as often as I was, picturing the possibilities. I must admit that as our departure time got closer, I got kind of obsessive about that. I was pleasuring myself in the ladies room at work, at home when Ken wasn't around, in the shower when he was. Making love with David seemed to occupy my thoughts about 90% of the time. 

I wanted to come up with a special way to tell David that I would be giving myself to him. What I decided to do involved leaving for our trip with a small amount of gas in my car, so that we would have to stop on the way to get more fuel. The last time I bought gas before we left, I got a small dollar amount, instead of getting the usual fill-up, so I had only about a third of a tank. With that amount, even though my hybrid car gets good gas mileage, it wouldn't be enough to get us the approximately 250 miles we had to go.

At about 9 in the morning, I picked David up at the apartment where he and Jessica live. She was already off to work for the day. We loaded his stuff in the car and off we went. As soon as we got in the car, the emotional tension between David and I was painfully obvious. We both made an effort to keep our conversation frivolous and inconsequential. Because of what I knew was coming, I was becoming more and more sexually aroused. Basically, I could feel that I was making myself wet.

When I finally pulled into a gas station and asked the attendant to fill the tank, I excused myself to David and went to the restroom. Sure enough, when I got in a stall and sat down to do what one does there, I noticed that my panties were completely soaked. I took them off, folded them up into as small and compact a square as I could and stuck them into one of the pockets of my jeans. I wasn't worried about further 'leakage' showing through, because jean material is very heavy. I knew my pants would be soiled and musty but I was sure we could find somewhere to throw them in the wash. I guessed that the resort would have clothes washing facilities. When I got back to the car, I asked David if he would like to drive the rest of the way and he took me up on my offer.

"I assume at some point you're going to tell me where we're going," he said as we pulled out of the gas station, "but until you tell me to turn off, I'll just keep on I-5. This isn't by any chance where you and dad went when you got married is it?"  

"As a matter of fact, it is. Don't worry, I'll tell you where to turn in plenty of time."

"Neat. I always wondered what that place was like. I remember you guys talking about it when I was a kid."

As soon as we got back on the freeway, I reached in my pocket, fished out my little bundle and without saying a word, bumped my hand into David's arm to get his attention and handed it to him! 

He obviously had no idea what it was I had given him and for a while it was comical, watching him driving with one hand and trying to unfold what I had given him with the other. Comical and deadly serious at the same time. My heart was beating so hard I could feel it. Eventually, he had to put both palms on the steering wheel with his hands close together, so he could use the fingers of both hands. When he was about half way there, he realized what he was holding.

"HOLY SHIT," he almost yelled, "are you kidding me?" 

He whipped his head back and forth several times between me and the road and then hit the brakes hard and pulled off sharply onto the shoulder. He continued his exclamations.

"I can't believe this. . . does this mean what I think it means?"

I didn't answer him. Not one word. I just stared at him. The look I was giving him was more than just locking eyes with each other. MUCH more. I wish I could say this was the first time I had done this with a man but truthfully, it's not. There is an almost primeval way we women have of telling a man we've never had sex with that we are agreeing to do so. It's about as intimate as intimate can be. Often times our decision to submit is made in the twinkling of an eye, so this look can happen any time at all. With David, my decision had been made weeks earlier but regardless of that, for a short time, talking is out of the question. David was silent too and for the longest time, stared back at me. The atmosphere was electric. It's likely the fuzzy hair on my arms was standing straight up. Eventually he spoke.

"Oh my God. . . it does." 

He almost whispered the words. I could barely hear him. It's like he was talking to himself. Speaking louder, he continued.

"You're not talking about going back to the way things were, are you?"

After a very long pause, I answered.

"No."

"Because I can't do that any more. . . I want you too much."

"David. . . DAVID. . . do I have to spell it out for you?. . . I'm giving myself to you. . . completely." 

He looked away, leaned over and lightly banged his forehead on the steering wheel. After a while he stopped and then more closely examined what he held in his hands, unfolding it the rest of the way.

"They're all wet. . . you were wearing these, weren't you." 

It was a statement, not a question. I forced out a chuckling laugh, nodding as I did so, trying to ease the tension of the situation.

"What got you to change your mind about us?. . . I didn't think you ever would."

"That's a long story. I'll tell you about it sometime but not right now."

David handed me back my panties and I folded them up and stuck them back in my pocket. We sat there for quite some time with David drumming his fingers on his leg, alternately staring out the front of the car and looking over at me. After a while, he had recovered enough to start driving again, so he looked over his shoulder and, when there was a clear spot, pulled back on the road.

"Listen mom, the next exit we come to with a motel sign, I'm going to pull in there and get us a room. I can't. . ."

"Oh no," I interrupted him, "I'd really rather you wouldn't. Please keep going until we get there."

We playfully argued about this for a while but eventually he agreed to do as I asked. After that, there was silence between us. I'm sure the thought of what was coming was on David's mind as much as it was on mine, which is to say, 100% of the time. I could tell that David was clearly at a loss about what to do. He wanted to do something but he had no idea what. He frequently looked over at me but had to quickly look back at the road while he drove. I remember wondering if I had revealed my intentions too early since there were still several hours until we reached our destination. I had wanted to tease him a little by making him wait but I hadn't intended to make it into torture.

At one point, he reached out his hand and placed it on my breast, holding me through the cloth of my shirt. I placed my hand over his and held him tightly against me.

"This is making me crazy, mom. I don't know if I can hold out until we get there."

"Listen, sweetheart, I've got the same problem you do. . . I've been waiting even longer than you. . . a LOT longer. . . you'll survive."

"Yeah, I know, but it's tough." 

"Oooooh. . . pooooor baby."

As I was saying that, I took his hand, placed it back on the steering wheel and placed mine on his crotch, on top of the obvious erection that his pants were doing little to hide. I was just trying to be a little sexy but doing that was probably a mistake because David seemed to think it meant that I was wanting us to do something more serious. He unzipped his fly and started undoing his belt.

"I don't think that's such a good idea, honey," I said, "that makes me nervous. Somebody might see us."

"Are you kidding? Nobody can look in here. If it bothers you, I'll keep away from other cars. . . Don't worry about it."

He kept on undoing with one hand and driving with the other. After a while, he was able to slip his fingers under the waistband of his boxers, stretch them lower with the back of his hand and there he was! As big and shinny and beautiful as ever! My hand was still on his leg, only inches away. I knew I was compounding my mistake but I couldn't resist. I leaned over and kissed his ear, going around the outside and poking my tongue into the center. Obviously, this was exactly the kind of thing David wanted me to do. He started stroking himself. 

"Darling, please. . . please don't do that. . . not right now."

"Oh come on mom. It won't hurt anything. I'll be fine when we get there. . . Do it for me. . . Give it a kiss. . ."

"NO. . . I said not right now."

It took him a good 4 or 5 minutes of pleading before he managed to persuade me to kiss his monument to manhood. Much to his dismay, however, a few actual kissing type kisses was all he got. I told him that I had something better in mind that I wanted to save him for. Obviously, this was frustrating to him but for some perverse reason, that didn't bother me in the slightest. It must have been my dominate side in the old dominant-submissive dichotomy winning out. When I pulled away, I didn't want to but I spoke to him a little harshly.

"Put your plaything away, David, we've still got a long way to go."

He could tell I was serious so he didn't argue and did as I asked, first sighing loudly, theatrically. 

About an hour later, we were getting closer to where we were going so, I had to concentrate on looking out for turns. When we got to the entrance road, David recognized the name on the wooden sign.

"Oh yeah, I remember that. Have you been back since the time with dad?"

"No."

David parked in front of the main lodge, which has the office sign over the door, and I went in and registered. The guy behind the counter, who I later found out was the manager, bore a striking resemblance to Colonel Sanders of Kentucky Fried Chicken fame, goatee and all. Most of the rooms are in the lodge but there are a few cabins at various secluded locations close to the lake, one of which I had reserved for us.

I was so discombobulated by my anticipation of what was about to happen that I couldn't focus on what the Colonel was asking of me as he filled out the papers, so he kept having to repeat himself when he wanted to see my driver's license and credit card and things like that. He gave me a little mimeographed map and pointed out where our cabin was. I had him mark it with a pencil because my current memory capacity was about zero. 

When I returned to the car, I gave David the map and he drove us right to it. It didn't register with me how beautiful our surroundings were because I was experiencing a kind of mental tunnel vision. I remember that I felt this kind of intense heat in the upper part of my chest and in my throat. I must have looked a little strange because as the car was rolling to a stop, David reached over, took my hand and asked if I was OK.




This Mother's Solution Ch. 05



When we returned to our cabin, having had only a few hours of sleep, we decided to go back to bed. Since the curtains were semi-transparent and letting in a lot of sunlight, we took a couple of extra blankets from a shelf full of linens and hung them over the rods to make the room a little darker. I had forgotten to put on sunscreen when we walked to breakfast, which I usually do when I'm out in the sun for any length of time, so I was fumbling around in my stuff looking for it, when this object popped out and clattered to the floor. My vibrator. Naturally, this caught David's attention.

"Is that what I think it is?"

"I'm afraid it is," I said as I bent over to pick it up.

"I didn't know you had one of those."

"That's probably because I hardly ever use it, so I never mentioned it."

"How come you brought it?"

"No particular reason. . . I just thought it might be fun to play with sometime."

"Oh r-e-a-l-l-y. . ." David said, drawing out the word, "well. . . now's as good a time as any. . . so, can I do it to you or should I watch you do it?"

"Right now?. . . Well. . . OK. . . you can do it, I guess."

"You'll have to show me how it works. I've never fooled with one before."

"Doesn't Jessica have one?"

"I don't think so. If she does, she never told me. . . wouldn't that be kind of insulting. I'm supposed to do all that, aren't I?"

I smiled and nodded. 

All of a sudden, I felt kind of nervous about this. It flashed through my mind that lying there without my clothes on, having David put this thing in me would be very. . . I don't know. . clinical. And definitely not very romantic. So, instead of going ahead with it, I asked him a favor.

"Listen, David. . . why don't you go in the bathroom a few minutes and let me arrange myself. I'm not sure exactly how I want to do this."

"Sure," he replied as he departed.

"I'll give you a call when I'm ready," I said as he was closing the bathroom door behind him.

I pulled back the bed covers and set the vibrator on top of the night stand. As I started undressing, I decided to keep my top on. Under the circumstances, it seemed slightly ridiculous to be doing that to protect my modesty but I did it anyway. I took all the pillows, stacked them on top of one another, so I would be almost sitting up, climbed into bed and pulled the covers up around my waist and called to David. As he came over and sat down on the bed next to me, he said nothing about my looking as if I was still fully dressed. 

I took him by the shoulders, pulled him closer and we kissed.

"Do you know how much I love you?" I asked.

He nodded.

"I hope you appreciate that because I wouldn't do this for anyone else."

I took David's hand, moved it under the sheet and placed in on the hair on top of my pussy.

"First I want you to kiss me there for a while."

Even though I had brought some olive oil along, coating the vibrator wouldn't be necessary once David got my juices flowing. I was probably lubricated enough already but my request was also a way for us to more intimately ease into things. David touched me for a while with his fingers, then took his hand away and pulled the covers down, so that my legs were out in the open. He got on his knees beside me with his elbows on the bed on either side of my head and touched my lips and nose with his tongue.

"I can't believe we're doing this," he whispered to me.

"I can't either," I whispered back.

And then he moved lower, lifting the hem of my shirt a little higher, touching me with his tongue and making soft little kisses all around my belly button. It was obvious where he was going, so I spread my legs to accommodate him, lifting one leg up, draping it over his shoulder and resting it there. 

"Wow. . . I couldn't see last night in the dark but your nubby thing really gets big, doesn't it," he said.

"I suppose so. I don't look at it much but it feels that way when. . . you know." 

"When you play with yourself you mean?"

"Yes." 

He moved his arm and started touching my "nubby thing"' with the tip of his thumb, lightly glancing back and forth across the top. Each touch caused me to make a small, involuntary jerk with my hips. Then he took his hand away and did the same thing with the tip of his tongue. I was starting to get really excited by this. He took his head away and looked up at me. In my sitting-up position, we could see each other clearly.

"I wish it could tell me what it likes best," he said.

"Sorry, but it's not much of a conversationalist. It's talking to me though. Would you like me to tell you what it's saying?"

He nodded.

"It says I should ask you to go around the outside with the tip of your tongue."

I was asking him to approximate what I do with my fingers when I'm pleasuring myself. 

"Yeah, like that but a little farther away. . . not so hard. . . oh yeah. . . oooooh, that's nice. . . don't stop. . . oh David, that feels sooooo good. . . you're sending me to heaven."

"OK," I went on, "now move your, oooooh, tongue over it. Go around again. . . over, OOOOOH God David. . . you're making me cum. . . cumming. . . cumming. . ." 

And I'm sure I made a lot of other groans, gasps and sighs, thrusting my pussy harder and harder into his face. After a while, my orgasm subsided.

"That was sooooo nice David. . . one easy lesson and you're an expert. Oh damn. . . your face is soaked. . . there's a towel over there," I said, pointing towards one hanging over the back of a chair a few feet away.

"Don't worry about it. . . I'll take a bath later." and he moved back higher and kissed me. I could taste myself on his lips, which was strangely, intensely erotic itself. 

"I love it when you're telling me you're cumming," he continued, "I know I'm an idiot about these things. . . I can't always tell. . . and it turns me on something fierce when you say that."

"Oh, David," and I put my arms around his neck, showering every part of his face with tiny kisses between my words.

"You're not. . . (kiss). . . an idiot. . . (kiss). . . you're the best. . . (kiss). . . lover I've. . . (kiss). . . ever had. You're the best lover. . . (kiss). . . ANY woman could ever have."

For a while we just hugged each other and relaxed, lying on the bed together. Eventually it registered in my consciousness that this was all supposed to be a build up to doing something with the vibrator. I reached over David's shoulder, took it off the night stand and handed it to him.

"There's a couple of buttons on the bottom," I said.

"Kind of cute the way it's shaped just like a real dick. . . soft like that too," David remarked, turning it around in his hand as he looked at it. 

"You can see from the symbols what they do. One turns it on and the other selects how it vibrates. . . you know, fast or slow, faster for a while then slower, in pulses, stuff like that."

"How should I set it?" he asked as he tried the buttons, vibrating it in his hand and cycling through the different settings.

"Any way you want. I like them all."

With David holding it, I took his wrist in my hand and guided it to me. It slid in easily. I took my hand away and left everything up to him. Without turning it on, ever so slowly, he moved it in and out a few times.

"How far in should I put it, when I turn it on?" he asked.

"Makes no difference. It's smaller than you are, so as long as you're holding onto it, you can't put it in too far. They make great big ones and I guess those could hurt but this one doesn't."

"Should I be moving it in and out or leave it in one place?"

"Either way is fine. Do whatever you like."

"OK, here goes. . . are you ready?"

"Uh huh," and he turned it on.

I'm very sensitive to these things and since I was keyed up already, it can't have been more than a few seconds before I was right on the edge. David could see from the expression on my face that I was on the verge of cumming. Thankfully he leaned over and put his face right next to mine. For some reason I found that infinitely more comforting and loving than if he had stayed further away, looking at the vibrator and where it was. He didn't seem interested in that part at all and the whole time kept the pulsation right where it was when he turned it on, steady and unchanging. He didn't move it back and forth either, which was fine with me.

In short order, I was coming unglued.

Our eyes were locked, only a few inches apart and I started making these soft groaning sounds in a regular rhythm, almost like a metronome, only louder and louder each time. 

"Uhhhhh. . . uhhhhh. . . uhhhhh. . . uhhhhh. . . uhhhhh. . ." and so on. 

My hips started bucking against his hand so that even though David was doing nothing, I was moving the vibrator slightly in and out of myself. David moved closer and closer until his lips were touching my cheek, not kissing me, just touching. With my mouth wide open and my lips curled back, I was making sounds right next to him. Eventually, my orgasm slowed down and stopped. I probably could have had David fool with the settings and gotten things going again but it had been so sweet and delightful, I was happy to let things end where they did. He cuddled against me and whispered in my ear.

"You are sooooo beautiful when you cum, mom. . . you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." 

Since both of us were still partially clothed, we got up, took turns lazily undressing each other and rolled back into the unmade bed, for the moment just lying there, holding each other and kissing. After a while I felt a certain part of David's anatomy becoming pushy. He wasn't forcing anything, it was just happening without him moving anywhere else. I was lying on my back and he was on his side, beside me, with his arm draped over my shoulders. The leg of mine closest to him was cocked in the air with the crook of my knee resting on his leg. Wrapped together this way, we weren't putting much pressure on each other anywhere. It was all kind of sideways but even in this cockeyed configuration, with almost no effort or adjustment, David's pushy little friend opened the door and ushered himself inside. If David had wanted, I would have accommodated anything, but that's not what happened.

There was no mad, passionate sex and the next thing I knew, it was something like 2 or 3 hours later. We had both fallen asleep without either of us moving a muscle. David was still inside me, in a manner of speaking, but his erection had gone away, even though everything was still in the right place. I didn't want to move and disturb him but after a while, I couldn't resist and started running the tip of my tongue over his neck and shoulders, which were the parts of his body that were closest to my face. He tasted kind of salty and sweet at the same time.

He didn't open his eyes but he must have awakened slightly because I could feel him growing. Growing where it counts. Before long he started moving his hips a little. His eyes were still closed but his mouth had a slight grin. I couldn't restrain myself any more and I rolled my weight against him, pushing him onto his back and in a flash, we were in the old 'woman-on-top' position.

"Good morning, mom, or afternoon or whatever it is," he said, "this is the kind of wake-up I like."

"Hi sweetheart, I hope you didn't need to sleep some more."

"I can sleep anytime. I'd much, much rather be fucking you."

"Oh, you would, huh. That's good because I'd rather have you fucking me than watching you sleep."

And I rode him, ever so gradually increasing my speed. He put his hands on my breasts, moving his thumbs back and forth across my nipples. Looking down, I could see they were puffy and sticking straight out. We were getting to the point, having had so much sex with each other in the past 24 hours or so, that we could talk since we weren't speechless with passion. There was still a little time left to say a few words, if they were important enough.

"You know, David, you were so good to me with the vibrator and everything. . . I think I ought to do something special for you. I know you'd like to. . . you know. . . in my mouth, wouldn't you?"

"Are you kidding?. . . I LOVE that!"

"Yes. . . well. . . I'll bet you'd like it even better if I took you all the way in."

"But you've tried before. . . I must be too big or something. . . I don't want you hurting yourself. I can live without that."

"No, that's not it. Your size makes it a little harder but only a little. The big problem is this gag reflex thing that everybody has. I read about it on the web. It just takes practice to suppress it. After you do it enough times, it goes away."

"No kidding. I'll be damned."

Sometime before this, I had stopped moving my hips. I think we were distracted enough by our conversation that we both forgot we were having sex. I raised myself up off David, swung my legs to the floor and spoke to him over my shoulder as I headed towards the bathroom.

"I'll be right back."

When I returned, I had this small bottle of olive oil I'd packed. Both of us knew what was coming, so neither of us spoke for the next little while. I sat on the edge of the bed, uncapped the bottle and poured some oil in the palm of my hand. David leaned back against the pile of pillows, almost sitting upright, the same as I had been, and clasped his hands behind his head, just like he used to do when we still lived together and I was masturbating him. 

I held his cock horizontally and tilted the bottle over it, the oil flowing and dripping into his hair and onto his belly. I clasped my hand around him and with a few short motions, he was completely covered, his cock glistening in the light. I motioned for him to move his legs apart, got up on my knees and moved between them. I bent forward, putting one hand on the bed to hold my balance and using the other to hold him upright. As soon as the head was between my lips, I took my other hand and put it on the bed, fully supporting myself. I mentally counted to three, closed my eyes and lowered myself. Remarkably, amazingly, astonishingly, for the first time ever, with almost no resistance or difficulty, his cock slid all the way down my throat! It was a couple of seconds or so before I felt the start of a choking sensation but I didn't pull away and in a short period of time the contractions lessened and then stopped altogether. 

As I was registering what I had done, strangely enough, the only thing I could feel was this intense burning sensation in my ears. At the same time I could hear David, sounding like he was way off in the distance somewhere.

"Oh God. . . Oh God. . . Oh God. . .," each repetition a little louder than the last.

My mind went blank when I tried to think what to do, so I just stayed down until I ran out of breath. I felt David's hands on the back of my head, not holding me down but just resting there, his fingers lightly gripping my hair and relaxing in a very slow rhythm. When I raised up and caught my breath, I immediately went back down and this time was conscious of my nose touching his hair. This gave me a triumphant feeling, a feeling of great accomplishment. I heard David make a small gasp and for the first time felt his hips raise ever so slightly against me. We repeated this sequence several times with his bucking motions becoming more frequent. I knew that he was getting ready to cum and as soon as I registered that, a panicky feeling swept over me. Simply because I had never thought it through before, I had this irrational feeling that it wouldn't be a good idea to let him cum while he was down my throat, that it would choke me if that happened. Obviously, I had already done all the choking I was going to do but that didn't occur to me, so I pulled my head away as fast as I could, grabbed him with one hand and pumped as fast as I could.

He started cumming immediately. In my mouth, which I kept open, on my face, all over. It was glorious! I felt this magnificent emotion, like I'd just earned my baccalaureate degree or something equally significant. For the first time since we started, David spoke to me using coherent sentences. 

"That was unbelievable, mom. . . I had no idea. . . I'm you're slave forever. . ." and he went on and on, spouting similar phrases, most of which I can't remember.

I made no reply and just smiled a huge smile as I straightened up, still on my knees, sitting on the back of my calves. While he was talking, using slightly exaggerated motions, I made a production of licking my lips like I'd just eaten ambrosia. He leaned forward and pulled me against him in a very firm hug, so that my head was held against his chest. Eventually, we broke apart and I sat on the edge of the bed.

"You know what?" I said, "We've been in bed long enough. . . I remember from when your dad and I were here, there's this trail that runs around the lake. We should go for a hike."

"How long is it?"

"3 or 4 miles or something like that."

"Sounds good to me. . . let's do it."

"OK, let me take a bath first. I'm all sweaty and dirty."

"Why don't you wait til we get back? Hiking's going to make you sweaty and dirty again."

"Well. . . I suppose so. . ."

"What's more, I like you like that. . . you smell good that way."

"Oh, come on. . . no I don't. I stink."

"Not to me you don't."

I stood up, David came up behind me, put his arms around me and nuzzled my hair. We got dressed, put on our walking shoes, consulted our resort map to find the location of the trail head and left. Just as I remembered it from many years before, the trail was beautiful. As we walked along holding hands and rubbing up against each other, I remember feeling as happy and content as I had ever felt in my life. I was experiencing a kind of euphoria that was remarkably similar to a prescription pain medication high I'd experienced a few times. Everything was light and bright and full of fun. It was like being on a ride at Disneyland.

The walking was mostly flat, just as you would expect going alongside a lake, with an occasional moderate slope over rocky outcroppings. We bounced along, skipping occasionally, walking on air. Considering his young man's libido, it wasn't entirely unexpected when half way through our journey, David suggested we go off the trail a ways and take a little sex break. Picking our way through dense undergrowth with lots of fallen trees and brush, we didn't have to go very far before we were out of sight of the lake. I can't recall how he phrased it but in his gentlemanly way, David offered me the opportunity to exercise my new found oral abilities. I was more than happy to oblige, so I kneeled down in front of him, unbuttoned his jeans and gave him what he wanted. In my spirited mood, I would have given him anything his little heart desired.

Just like hours before, when David had me pinned against the wall by the bathroom, the passion of the moment was so distracting that I injured myself without realizing it. When I got up and we returned to the trail, I realized that I had bruised one of my knees. I must have been kneeling on a stone or a fallen branch or something, so I was limping. David assisted me as best he could, putting one arm across my back, but after a while, walking loosened it up a bit and I could move along by myself. Ahhh. . . the price one pays for love!

That evening, after dinner in the lodge, we walked down by the lake and sat on the edge of the dock where they keep all of the resort's boats tied up. We took our shoes off and dangled our feet in the water, side by side, leaning our heads together, both of us mesmerized by the atmosphere of our heavenly surroundings. After a while, David told me that he had a surprise for the next day.

"Guess what, mom. Tomorrow we're going to take a trip to Seattle."

"Really? How can we do that?. . . We've got reservations here for the rest of the week."




This Mother's Solution Ch. 06



Chapter 6: The Vacation of a Lifetime, Part 3

The restaurant where David had made our dinner reservations was only a block away. It had been recommended to him by a friend. David told me that it was an Italian restaurant, but not in the usual sense. Spaghetti dishes and lasagna would likely not be on the menu, he said, because the food was regional, mostly from Tuscany. We walked in the front door, still bubbling with excitement from the theater. Perhaps that's what led David to do something incredibly rash as we stood in front of the maitre d'.

"The name is M******* and we have a reservation for dinner." 

As he was saying this, David reached in his shirt pocket, pulled out a Benjamin and handed it to the guy. I was dumbfounded, standing there speechless, watching while David spoke.

"Sir, you have before you two customers who are seriously in love with each other. We would be forever grateful if you could seat us in some extra-special, out-of-the-way location."

The man that David was talking to appeared to be just as perplexed as I was, looking back and forth between the bill he had been handed and David, not knowing what to say. Eventually, an idea seemed to strike him. His face brightened and he held up a finger, pointing in the air.

"If you two would kindly have a seat," he said, indicating some overstuffed chairs by the door, "let me make some inquiries. I'll be back shortly."

We sat there for a few minutes, holding hands, in total silence, David was looking around like he was waiting for a bus and I was trying as hard as I could not to say anything. Considering that neither of us is wealthy, this whole situation was exceedingly odd, but since I was just along for the ride, I did my best not to over-react.

The maitre d' came back, asked us to wait a few more minutes and then guided us to the restaurant's banquet room on the second floor, which was not in use. One wall had 4 or 5 floor-to-ceiling, French-style doors to the outside, one of which had been opened onto a mini-sized balcony that was obviously there for decorative purposes only. In the middle of the opened doorway, there was a very small bistro table, barely big enough to hold the two place settings sitting on top of it. This is where we were seated. A wheeled cart was sitting close by with a pitcher of water, condiments and bottles of various kinds of olive oil and sauces. 

The lights in the room were not turned on but there was dim illumination from other parts of the restaurant spilling in through the banquet room doors. In addition, there was light from the city and from two large candles sitting on the wainscoting on either side of the opening to the outside. As soon as we were alone, I could resist speaking no longer.

"You know, David, I was going to tell you that you'd lost your mind, giving that man all that money, but I have to say, this is the most dreamy setting for dinner I've ever seen. Did you have any idea they were going to do this?"

"No, I didn't. . . pretty nice though, isn't it."

After a little more idle conversation, since our chairs were right next to each other, David put his arm around me and we kissed. Quite passionately, in fact. I felt his hand on my knee, which meant that the hem of my skirt was raised slightly on his wrist but I didn't feel alarmed because he didn't seem to be on the verge of doing anything untoward. Being occupied this way, neither of us were aware that our waiter had come up and was standing nearby.

"Ahem. . . excuse me" he said and held out a couple of menus towards us.

We broke our kiss but David continued holding on to me and spoke to the waiter, not looking at him but gazing into my eyes instead, his head only inches from mine.

"We won't need those. Ask the chef to make us whatever suits his fancy, whatever he thinks he makes best. . . We like anything, so whatever you bring will be just fine."

"Well. . . ordinarily we don't do that. . ." but, since David didn't seem to be paying any attention to him and started kissing me again, "but maybe in this case we can make an exception. . . listen, I'll see what I can do," and he turned and started walking away.

David broke our kiss and called after him.

"OH. . . and bring us a bottle of Chianti, please, whatever brand you recommend."

"Very good, sir."

Needless to say, everything was fabulous and maybe an hour and a half later we left, completely stuffed on things I'd never eaten before and couldn't identify now, because we never saw what they are called on the menu. Not being drinkers, with half a bottle of wine between us, we were also both drunk as skunks. The whole thing was impossibly romantic, the most wonderful meal I've ever eaten. 

Our night in the hotel was loving and cuddly but otherwise uneventful. We made love before going to sleep and again first thing in the morning, before leaving early to catch the ferry. Just as you would expect, I dressed wearing one of the skirts David had bought for me, with the appropriate accompaniment underneath, which is to say, nothing at all. Luckily, on the boat David behaved himself but, while we were walking around the deck, I noticed that I was having trouble getting used to feeling cool breezes in places where I wasn't used to feeling cool breezes.

Speaking of which, it goes without saying that once we got back in the car and started driving back to the resort, David became interested in determining if his skirt scheme was working the way he had hoped. He reached across the center console and fingered me while he drove. In the few short days since I had become his conquest, my attitude about this type of thing had changed dramatically, so I wasn't the slightest nervous. In fact, I relished every minute of it, pushing back with my hips until he made me cum, giving him loud, unmistakable vocal signals that I had, using both sounds AND words. 

That evening, after dinner, David and I sat on the chairs on the front porch of our cabin, watching the sun drop below the surrounding hills, and had a very interesting conversation. We reminisced about things we had lived through together, years before. After a while, our conversation became decidedly confessional. We admitted things to each other that we had never talked about. 

"You know David, there's something I've always wondered. . . when you were looking at my picture that day I saw you playing with yourself. . . how long before that did you start thinking of me that way?"

"Geeeeze, I don't know. . . I'd say at least a year. . . maybe more than that."

"Do you remember why that was? Did I do something sexy that turned you on. . . what?"

"Not exactly. . . you remember Brian?"

"Sure."

"Well, I was crawling around up in the attic with him. . . actually, it was him that found those pictures dad took."

"You're KIDDING. . . you mean BRIAN's seen them?"

"Fraid so. Even before that, he must have told me a million times how hot he thinks you are. He even said he wanted to fuck you. He thought you were the hottest woman he'd ever seen. Of course, that was way before he slept with anybody. Anyway, he got to looking through those pictures and before I knew it, he whipped out his dick and beat off while he was looking at em. The whole thing got me so turned on, I did it too. Of course, I had them all to myself and he didn't so I got to bringing them down to my room. I think we went back up there 2 or 3 more times and did it again."

"God David, that sooooo embarrassing. . . he didn't make off with any of them did he?"

"No. . . he wanted to but I wouldn't let him. I was afraid you or dad would notice they were gone."

"Well, thank heavens for that, anyway. So all this started a year before I walked in on you?"

"Yep." 

We continued in this vein for a while and then I offered to tell David one of my little secrets. I told him about the masturbation fantasies I had about him, before I offered to watch him play with himself, including the one where we were walking through the woods and came to a meadow where we undressed each other and lay in the sun. When I finished describing this, he had an appealing reaction.

"You know, mom, we could do that one for real."

"What do you mean?"

"We could go find a meadow and do whatever it was you dreamed about."

"Well I'll be. . . I guess we could. . . but where ever would we find a meadow? I don't know where there's one and I'll bet you don't either. It'd have to be a place without any people, not like by the side of the road or something."

"Yeah, I know. . . listen, I think I remember passing a Forest Service station just before we got here. They'd know. We could tell them we're looking for a certain kind of butterfly or something."

"Oh David, that sounds wonderful. You're going to have to be careful, young man. If we do what I dreamed about, I could end up taking advantage of you," and we laughed.

"Let me ask you something else," I said, "When you reserved our hotel room. . . you know, where we stayed last night. . . you didn't know we'd be having sex. . . so, if we weren't and we stayed in that room together overnight, would you have behaved yourself?"

"Sure I would. I wouldn't have jumped you or anything, if that's what you mean." 

"So. . . listen, sweetheart. . . is this OK. . . what we're doing?"

"Are you kidding me? I've dreamed about this for as long as I can remember."

We chatted some more and then we got up and went inside. After we puttered around for a bit, I got to wondering about what we would be doing the next day.

"Would you take me out in one of those boats sometime?" I asked.

"Sure. You know it'd be fun to go out tonight, even. . . like after dark."

"I seem to remember from when your dad and I were here, you can't take the boats out after 6 or after it gets dark or something. They keep all the boat stuff locked up in that shed. Your dad wanted to do that too but we couldn't."

"Oh really. . . well, what's that? he asked, pointing in the direction of a chair across the room.

Standing behind it, leaning in the corner, there was what obviously was a canoe paddle. 

"I'll bet the last guest left it here and they never got around to putting it back. Hey, mom. . . this is all we need. We could sneak down in the middle of the night and go for a midnight cruise in one of the canoes. . . what do you say?"

"Oooooh I don't know, David. . . we could get in trouble, couldn't we?"

"Trouble? What'd ya mean, trouble? What're they going to do. . . throw us in jail?"

I was resistant and David was persistent. Guess who won? Not me.

We stayed up reading by lantern light and at about 1:30 or so, David decided it was time to depart on our little adventure because a half moon was coming up, giving us just enough light to see what we were doing. Most of the canoes were in a rack but thankfully, there were a couple tied up to the dock, so we didn't have to bother with lifting one down. David sat in the back and I sat in the front facing him. Being big and muscular like he is, he had no trouble moving us along and we glided in the general direction of the middle of the lake. It's hard to estimate distances on water, especially in the dark, but I would guess that we were over a half mile from shore before David stopped and placed the paddle in the bottom of the boat. Neither of us had said a word since we left and we didn't say much afterward either. The only sound was the lapping of water against the side of the canoe.

David gingerly swung his legs over the support in front of me, took my hands and pulled me towards him, indicating that he wanted me to join him in the bottom of the boat. It was more stable when we were down there. Soon we were kissing leisurely, looking up at the night sky, marveling at how many stars we were seeing in the clear air. We were both dressed the same, wearing a T-shirt and shorts with no underwear. In his usual amorous fashion, David slid his hands under my top and was feeling my breasts and squeezing my nipples between his fingers. After a while, he lifted the bottom of my shirt and I obligingly straightened my arms over my head so he could take it off. I wasn't the least bit nervous about this because it seemed like we were in the middle of nowhere, with only some sleeping fish to keep us company. David took his T-shirt off too. After more kissing and nursing at my breasts, he lifted up his head and stared into my eyes. Even in the very dim moonlight, I could recognize that serious-hungry look of his that I had seen so many times before. He leaned even closer and whispered in my ear.

"I want to taste you."

I made no reply and we immediately started the extremely awkward process of taking off my shorts. It took all kinds of shuffling and arranging but eventually I was lying on my back with my head on a seat cushion that was sitting on top of the forward seat. My knees were resting on the cross-brace below me, with each knee touching one side of the canoe. David was kneeling on a seat cushion in the same section as my calves. By bending over the cross-brace, the object of his tasting efforts was right where he wanted it to be. To be crude, he could kiss my pussy to his heart's delight and, of course, that's exactly what he did. When things started getting really interesting, I moved my legs over his shoulders and rested them on his back. As I recall, I was just starting to feel my very first tinglings, when something odd caught my eye. There seemed to be a tiny highlight on the edge of the boat, right where it transitioned to the blackness of the night sky. For a long time I puzzled over what might be causing that and eventually I tilted my head up as much as I could, so I could see better.

Way off in the distance, there was a very bright light that appeared to be sitting on top of the water.

I hadn't a clue what this might be but just to be safe, I thought David should have a look, so I tapped him on the head. Being that he was looking down, diligently involved in other pursuits, he mistakenly took my tapping as a signal of my wanting him to redouble his efforts and he started licking and sucking on me more vigorously than ever.

"David. . . DAVID. . . there's something wrong."

He stopped, pulled away and looked over his shoulder to where I was pointing.

"What the hell. . ." he said and right about this time we both heard the unmistakable sound of an outboard motor, very faint but growing louder.

"Oh, shit. They've got a searchlight on us. I think we've been busted. . . Jesus Christ, we've got to get your clothes back on."

For the next minute or so, not wanting to raise up because of the light, we thrashed around in the bottom of the canoe while I tried to slip into my shorts. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how you look at it), by the time the boat with the searchlight was pulling alongside, that was as far as we got. In a situation like that, topless is not so good but bottomless is a whole lot worse, especially since we didn't know for a while who was behind the searchlight.

Fortunately, it turned out to be the manager (Colonel Saunders, as we referred to him). Naturally, the Colonel had all sorts of things to say to us. He couldn't let us be out there because their insurance wouldn't cover any accidents we might have and where on earth did we get that paddle, since they are all supposedly locked up, and he just happened to see us silhouetted in the moonlight on the water as he was making his last rounds before going to bed and there's better places to be "making whoopee", as he put it, and so on. After he got tired of yammering and ogling my boobs while I put my T-shirt back on, he asked us to toss him our bow line and he towed us back to the dock. 

When we got to the cabin, the adrenaline rush of the situation kept both of us from feeling sleepy for a while, so before going to bed, I decided to take a shower. As the soapy water ran over me, I felt a sharp stinging sensation on one cheek of my butt. When I had David look at it, after I dried off, he told me that I had a cut there and it was still bleeding. Sure enough, when we looked at my shorts later on, there was a sizable bloodstain on the inside of them. We speculated that there might have been a ragged metal edge in the bottom of the canoe and for some reason I hadn't felt it when I was hurt. This trip was making me look more like a war veteran instead of the scrumptious morsel that David presumed me to be. Scraped back, banged up knee and now this.

Feeling sorry for myself, I took a couple of prescription pain pills that I had brought along to treat this elbow condition I have that flares up now and then. In his wonderfully loving way, David also felt sorry for me and gave me a long, gentle massage until I drifted off to sleep. It was the first time on our trip that we slept together in the literal sense. That is to say, without having sex.

We didn't have sex the next day either. David allowed me the entire day to rest and recuperate. We put off our trip to find a meadow and spent the day hanging around the cabin and stuffing ourselves at the lodge with salmon and salads and great food like that. I was blessed with a couple more delightful massages and we even went for a cruise on the lake. The legitimate way. In a motorized rowboat, with cushions and plastic seats to lounge on.

After breakfast the next morning we got in the car and set off down the road, going back the way we came. Sure enough, just as David had said we would, before long we came to a ranger station and went inside to see what we could find out. The young man behind the counter wasn't very knowledgeable but he consulted an older gentleman in an office in the back who seemed to know just what we were looking for. He didn't ask why, so we didn't have to give him any phony excuses about butterflies. He said getting there would involve driving on a slightly rutted, dirt logging road and then hiking along a trail for a couple of miles to the point where there was a small creek along side. At the place where the trail joined the creek, he suggested we wade across and walk in a vertical direction through the woods. Supposedly there would be several meadow-like areas within a quarter mile of the trail. He sold us the Olympic National Forest and National Park Map, marked the spot he was talking about and traced out the route to get there.

There was a spacious place to park at the trailhead and luckily, since privacy is always a consideration, there were no other cars parked there. The weather couldn't have been better, with broken clouds and mild temperature. As we walked down the trail, something humorous came to my attention.

"Doesn't that make it hard to walk?" I joked, pointing to the obvious bulge in David's pants.

After a half hour or so, the trail sloped downward for a short distance and we came to the creek, just where it showed it would be on the map. It was easy to get across without getting our feet wet, by stepping on stones. The trees on the other side were all deciduous and easy to walk through because they were spaced far apart. It seemed like no time at all before we came to an open space about the size of a football field. A perfect meadow in every respect except one. The ground was soft and marshy. So, we kept walking, only now the land was sloping higher. We came to a plateau and a second meadow about half the size of the first. The ground was not wet at all. I sat on a log and David walked around, looking things over. When he was on the opposite side of the meadow, he stood there looking back at me, not moving for a while. My guess is that he was feeling the same nervous tension I was about what to do next, how to get things started.

When he came back, he took off the day-pack he was wearing, pulled me close and kissed me. Inches from my lips, he asked me a question.




This Mother's Solution Ch. 06



"Are you ready for a little adventure?"

"Yes."

"I think we should go over on the other side where there's more shade."

"OK, that sounds better than getting fried in the sun."

"Except there's this one little problem. . . I've got to piss like a racehorse. . . and as long as you're around," he said, indicating the still prominent lump in his shorts, "I can't pee. Why don't you go over there and get comfortable and I'll be there as soon as I take care of this."

"Sure sweetie," I said as I walked away, "take your time."

By the time I found a nice soft spot in the knee high grass and looked back, David had disappeared into the woods somewhere. I had pictured him undressing me but not wanting to be a stickler for details, I decided to do it myself and lay down in the grass when I was done, naked to the world. A fair amount of time went by and no David. The more I pictured him trying to turn himself off and apparently not having much success, the more it was turning me on. It felt like he was giving me a sort of backhanded compliment. It also meant that there was something fabulous on the horizon although I didn't have the slightest idea what that something might be. After a while, I couldn't take it anymore and I started touching myself. I knew I had to do my best to keep that touching from going to it's natural conclusion but I had to do something. The waiting was driving me crazy.

Just as things were on the verge of getting out of hand and I was arching my back, I was aware of something behind me. I craned my head backwards to see and there was David, standing there watching me! Not only that, he was as naked as I was, fully erect and he was stroking himself. 

"DON'T STOP," he commanded in a very loud voice.

So I didn't.

As I continued, I reminded myself that this was the very first time David had seen me do this, which was more than a little surprising, considering everything else we had done, and what a place it was for this to happen. The surroundings were ethereal: the sky, the trees, the meadow, the birds chirping, the distant sound of the creek rushing over rocks. It was all unreal, compared to what we like to incorrectly call 'real life' in the city. 

I was masturbating here just like I had when I fantasized only this was no fantasy. It was a hundred times better because, even though we weren't touching, David was here with me. My waves of passion grew and grew and eventually swept me away. My orgasm was intense. Very intense, with moaning and groaning, thrusting hips and sweat breaking out on my forehead. And then there was something even more wonderful. Just as I was looking back behind me, to see if my performance had met with David's approval, he came too!

The arc of his spurts was astonishing. What a sight it was, seeing him standing there, looking like a fountain. Some landed across my forearm, most in the grass and part went as far as my knee. The next thing I knew, he was lying beside me, kissing me everywhere and finally just holding me in his arms. We were lying on our backs, staring off into space, time not moving. 

After who knows how long, the spell was broken when I felt David's hand pushing ever so gently on my cheek. He moved my head slightly, just enough so I could see that we had a visitor. A deer. It can't have been standing more than ten feet away.

Periodically it looked around, sometimes in our direction. Not seeming concerned, it would look back down and munch on the grass. I've heard that there are places on the east coast of America where a deer is considered a pest and where something like this would not be that unusual but out here in the west, a deer coming this close is exceedingly rare. We were being blessed by the best of good omens. What a fitting conclusion to our magical wilderness visit this was.

That night back at the cabin was to be the last one of our trip and we both expressed sadness that it was coming to an end. Checkout time was 11 the next morning and we resolved to stay until the last possible minute. Neither of us wanted it to be over. We made love, of course, not spectacularly or gymnastically or unusually, just lovingly and caringly. It felt as though we had become almost like a regular married couple in less than a week, except for one important difference: I had never been this much in love with either of my two legitimate husbands. I don't know how David felt about this, because I never asked him, but my guess is that he felt the same way I did.

During the drive back, we had two important conversations. The first one I started.

"You know, David, there's something we've got to get straight between us before we get back."

"Oh yeah, what's that?"

"Well, it has to do with how we treat each other when we're around Jessica and Ken and for that matter, everyone else we know. We can't be doing any of the lovey-dovey stuff we've been doing."

"Sure. I know that."

"I know you do but I mean, really. . . nothing at all. No footsy under the table, no kisses when we think everybody is in the other room, nothing. We can't even be looking at each other more than we usually do. It's going to be hard to keep from doing that but we absolutely have to. We can't give anybody the slightest reason to suspect anything."

"I'll do my best. I swear I will."

"Thank you sweetheart."

A short while later David brought up another subject, something which, up to that point, I had thought nothing about.

"So, tell me mom, what happens after we get back, if I want to take you out on a date?. . . No, seriously, I mean how are we going to get together?. . . You do want to get together once in a while, don't you?"

"Of course I do. I want to be with you as much as I can. . . gee, I don't know. . . motels, I guess? I can't see me coming over to your place or you coming over to mine. That would be too risky. Even if Jessica is gone or Ken is away on a trip, there's neighbors and things. I don't want to take any chances."

"How about if we get our own place?" David asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Like an apartment or something."

"Well, I guess that's a possibility. Whatever it is, even if it's just a motel, it's going to have to be a long ways away, you know. We can't have anybody seeing us coming and going."

"Yeah, and whatever it is, it's going to cost a little bit, isn't it."

"Listen, don't worry about that, dumpling, I can afford it whatever it is. They're paying me more than I'm worth anyway and besides, Ken makes 2 or 3 times as much as I do. You're going to school and you need to save your money for that."

We talked about this for a while longer but never came to any conclusions. We decided to try going to a motel a few times and see about other alternatives later.

"How are we going to work out setting up a time?" David wanted to know.

"It'd be better if you call me at work. I don't want you calling me at home any more than you usually do."

"How often?"

"That's up to you, darling. Anytime you want me. . . We've got to be careful not to be away too much, though, or someone will get suspicious. Actually, now that I think about it, our work situations are ideal. Up to a point, I can get away pretty much as much as I want, as long as I don't get too far behind. You can too, except you don't get paid, so you've got to be careful that Jessica doesn't see that you're not getting paid as much as you're away."

"That's true but since she's at work mostly. . . at the same time I am, she'd have a hard time figuring that out. She knows I take time off to go to school, so I guess if I'm off more than usual, I could tell her I need the time for studying." 

"You could study with me. I could be your tutor," I said and we laughed. 

On several occasions , David reached over and held my hand as he was driving. One of these times, I clasped his hand tightly in mine, raised it to my lips, kissed it and lowered it to my breast, holding him against me as he squeezed me gently through the cloth. After a while, he lowered his hand into my lap, raising the hem of my skirt and slid his fingers along my thigh until he was touching my pussy. As usual, I wasn't wearing any panties.

This didn't make me leery the way it used to. In fact, I did what I could to accommodate him by taking off my seat belt, scootching my butt forward in the seat a little ways and spreading my legs as much as possible. He fingered me as we drove and I reveled in the feeling, closing my eyes as the waves of stimulation swept over me.

"Oooooh. . . oooooh David. . . you're going to make me cum."

He took this as a sign of encouragement and moved his fingers faster and faster. My hips uncontrollably pushed higher and I was over the top.

"Cumming. . . cumming. . . " and I let out a short little squeaky sounding yelp.

"Oooooh that was sooooo nice, David. . . thank you sweetheart," I said as I felt my orgasm subsiding.

For obvious reasons, David wasn't feeling as satisfied as I was.

"Listen mom, I can't take this. . . I've got to have you one last time before we get home."

I was feeling so blissful that I was inclined to give him absolutely anything he wanted but I wasn't sure exactly what that was. I leaned over and whispered in his ear, as if there was someone else in the car who might overhear me.

"Do you want me to go down on you, baby?"

I was willing to do that right here, right as we drove down the highway.

"No, I've got a better idea. Listen, I'm going to pull into the next rest-stop we come to."

I wasn't sure what that would lead to but I had enough faith in David's reasonableness that I didn't argue. I knew he wouldn't want to do anything that was too outrageous, so I didn't say anything. We drove along in silence and instead of putting my seat-belt back on, I leaned across the center console, kissed his ear a few times and rested my head on his shoulder. I could clearly see the bulge in his pants and I rested my hand on top of it, lightly squeezing now and then as we drove. I didn't want to do anything to over stimulate him. I just wanted to remind him I was there.

Twenty minutes later or so, we pulled into what was probably the last rest area before we got home. Neither of us needed to use the facilities so David drove past them and parked in the very last spot. There had to be at least 40 or 50 spaces between us and the first car that was parked next to the restrooms, plenty of distance for almost complete privacy inside the car, except as people drove past to get back on the freeway.

"Let's get in the back, mom. . . move your seat forward as far as it will go."

As soon as we were back there, David pulled me towards him and I thought we were going to kiss but instead he stopped when our faces were only inches apart and put his hands on the side of my face.

"I'm going to fuck you," he said, "Get on top of me. . . don't worry, no one can see us. You can leave everything on," and we started squirming around, trying to get arranged. 

David rolled on his side so that he was diagonal in the space, with his head where the back seat meets the rear window. He unfastened his belt and the top button on his pants. I lifted my skirt as high as my crotch and swung my leg over his thighs. As he tried to wiggle his pants lower, I was having trouble finding a place for my knee.

"Move your butt over a little," I asked and he did. 

As soon as I was in place, I arranged my skirt so everything was covered up, just in case someone looked in. I was still up in the air as I did this, my head bent over, my neck pressed uncomfortably against the roof. Even with all of this arranging, I never did see the object of my affections but I was certain that, where ever it was, it was fully erect. Sure enough, when David's hand disappeared under my skirt to hold himself in a vertical position, I could immediately feel that it was. Unfortunately, I was feeling this with the inside of my thighs, which meant that it wasn't where we wanted it. After some relocation, when everything felt right, I lowered myself down.

Because of our unusual positioning, I was controlling everything by how fast I wanted to raise and lower my hips. When we started, I was holding myself up with my arms but I couldn't resist bending down and kissing David. I stayed that way for the rest of the time, with our torsos pressed together. After a while, I felt David slide his hands under my skirt on the back of my thighs and raise them higher until he was holding me where each cheek of my butt meets my legs. When I raised my hips, he would spread me apart and when I lowered, he pressed me together. The extra friction was thrilling.

"Oh God honey, that feels so good. . . Oh God. . . fuck me, son. . . fuck me harder. . . harder," my voice almost whiney.

And I came. Multiple times.

"Yeeeees, oh yesssss. . . cumming. . ." 

The timing wasn't perfect but I felt David get there shortly afterwards. His cum shot into me in a spurt I could feel distinctly. I'm sure there were others but those I didn't feel. The strength left my muscles and it felt like I was paralyzed. I have no idea how long it was before we moved.

Eventually, I rolled off of David and, because it was too difficult to get upright, flipped open the door handle and crawled out of the car on my hands and knees, on the side away from the restrooms. As I got my legs under me and straightened up, I saw the funniest thing. A semi-truck and trailer was leaving the rest area, passing behind us just a few feet away. Apparently, the driver suspected that something unusual was going on in our car because, even though technically the truck was moving, it can't have been going more that a couple of miles an hour. As I looked up, I could see a woman in the passenger window. She had an enormous smile on her face and was waving at me. 

I waved back. 

Ellen