19 comments/ 156743 views/ 10 favorites Jamie's Needs By: HoHumMum Authors note This story is about Brits and written by a Brit. It's written in the first person and I've tried to make it authentic. I fully realise that some of the slang may be foreign to American ears and, in particular, we Brits use 'mum' and 'mummy' where Americans use 'mom' and 'mommy'. I'm not saying either is intrinsically right or wrong, just that my characters are Brits who use the former. Another example is where Claire talks about suspenders – in the UK these hold up stockings, not trousers (or pants!). Finally Jamie, Wayne and Adam are, of course, all eighteen. It's the same old story, your stomach's giving you gyp and you know you have antacid somewhere but, right at the moment, it's not in any of the places it should be. I'd searched high and low and was, as a last resort, stood on tiptoes on a chair checking out the clutter on top of the bathroom cabinet. I'm a bit on the petite side so it was quite a reach for me. As I rummaged through some shaving stuff Jamie had been given for Christmas, I found that one of the boxes was surprisingly heavy. I turned it around to take a closer look and there, tucked away inside, I found, well, it certainly wasn't antacid; it was one of those webcam things you attach to computers. Until I had moved the box the wires that ran out of the back had been well concealed and I could now see that they disappeared through a neat hole in the plasterboard wall presumably to my son's room next door. Before I moved it the webcam had been positioned so that, with the open, 'wet room' design of our bathroom, it had an unrestricted view of the shower area in the corner. It wasn't hard to work out how it had got there, who it was aimed at and, more importantly, whose computer it was attached to. Now I really did feel sick and I would need more than antacids to sort this one out. I got down off the chair and, still in a state of shock, sat down on the edge of the bath. At this point I'd better give you some of the background. My name is Claire Morris and Jamie is my only child. I'm a single mum and have been since Jamie's dad walked out leaving me to bring up our eight year old son. Jamie was devastated both by the divorce and by his father's subsequent rapid disappearance and became very quiet and withdrawn. Now, ten years later, he's doing fine but he's still very shy around girls and happiest in front of his computer. Of course I'm well aware that, like all eighteen year old boys, he's using it to download porn but, well, that's normal and I'd be worried if he wasn't. What I hadn't known until then was that he wasn't just downloading the stuff; he was making his own with me in the shower as the star performer. At first my anger was winning out in the turmoil of emotions roiling within me. I looked up at the webcam and it seemed to stare back at me. I enjoy my showers, they're my way of relaxing, my private time. Hah! Private time! All the while this damn thing had been watching me and I had been unwittingly performing in some sort of sex show. But what was I going to do about it? My first thought was to climb back on the chair, grab the webcam, smash it into tiny pieces and present the broken remains to Jamie before grounding him for life, well, as much as I could ground an eighteen year old. What on earth was he thinking of, what on earth had made him do it? Indeed, the more I fumed over it the more it came down to the question, what on earth had made him do it? I mean, what sort of boy gets off on watching his mother in the shower? It would be understandable, albeit illegal and immoral, had he had rigged up something similar to spy on the cute little blonde who lived three doors down but why me, after all, I'm old enough to be his mum. Dammit, I am his mum. The more I thought on this the more I calmed down and started to work out the reasons why it had come down to this. His shyness around girls meant that I was, effectively, his only female company and, with all the testosterone that plagues the teenage male of the species, he'd focussed on what was available. I might not be much but I was all he had. How sad was that? My initial anger was turning to pity; he might be eighteen but inside he was still the shy and insecure little boy I had comforted through the aftermath of the divorce. That brought out the maternal side of me and the more I thought about it the more I wanted to help him, not punish him; the more I wanted just to cuddle him and tell him that everything was going to be OK just as I had done so all those years ago. Poor thing, reduced to spying on his mother to get his jollies. And then, well, if spying on me was helping him then where's the real harm? It wasn't normal, it certainly wasn't normal, but, after all, no one was really getting hurt. My dignity may have taken a knock or two but I never had that much to start with. I mean, if he had gone after the blonde from three doors down he could have ended up in so much trouble it would ruin his life. At least I wasn't going to call the police. The one thing I wasn't quite prepared to admit, well, not at that point, was that part of me didn't mind at all that he was spying on me. I was, of course, really worried about where these videos were ending up; was he sharing them with his computer nerd friends or, worse still, were they appearing on the web somewhere? However, once you get past that, and the fact that he's my son, it's kind of flattering that he finds me sexy. Indeed, even the 'sharing with friends' bit wasn't that bad. I smiled to myself as I imagined him and those nerdy kids that come round to play on his X-box all gathered round his PC having a good old wank whilst watching me having a shower. It should have been creepy but they're good kids really and, actually, it was rather exciting. I've always had an exhibitionist streak in me; one of my favourite fantasies is about being some sort of femme fatale stripper and whilst I knew the reality tends to be rather sordid and I'd never be a stripper for real, well, this kind of played into that fantasy. But, however much it might make me tingle 'down there', I couldn't ignore the fact that he had been spying on me. There were all sorts of trust issues here as well as the big question of exactly who else had been watching. Was it just him or had he shared videos with his friends or, nightmare time, put them on the web. It was time we had a good hard chat about it all; whatever I felt, anger or pity, prude or exhibitionist, I couldn't just allow this to continue. In my mind I imagined the scene, the anger, the shouting, the tears, the slamming doors, the long silences. Our relationship was certainly going to change; what I must not do was destroy it all together. And that's when I made the plan. I stared up at the unblinking glass eye and it just came to me. OK, so the simple answer would have been just to confront Jamie, to wait until he came home and just have it out with him but something inside me said that, if he could play silly buggers then, so could I. The first thing to do was to carefully replace the webcam back the way it was so that he wouldn't know I'd spotted it. The second was to hide away some props of my own for the next time I had a shower. I chose to hide them in the washing basket; heaven knows it's the last place he would look and it had the added benefit of being out of the line of site of the camera. Then I waited for a suitable opportunity. As it turned out I didn't have that long to wait. At five thirty that very evening he came home with Adam and Wayne, his two closest friends, trailing behind him. If any of his friends were his cohorts in spying then it was these two. "Hi boys," I said brightly. "Hi, Mrs Morris," the boys replied. Jamie just grunted as they all trooped off into his room. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach but this was the perfect opportunity to put my plan into action and I'd be crazy not to take advantage. The first step was to announce my intentions of showering so, five minutes later, I took them in some Cokes and a plate of biscuits. "I'm just going to take a shower so please you could avoid using the loo until I've finished," I said. A chorus of "OK, Mrs Morris," and "OK, mum," was the response and off I went to the bathroom. It was odd knowing, or at least guessing, that I was being watched. I had to tread a fine line; I wanted to put on a show but I didn't want to make it too obvious that I was on to them. Above all, despite the temptation, I must not look at the camera. By now the butterflies in my stomach were doing a rather energetic rumba but I was determined to go through with it. Trying to act as naturally as I could I got undressed and turned on the shower. While I waited for the water to warm up I got out my razor and put it in the soap dish where I would be able to reach it. I retrieved the props from the washing basket and, keeping everything out of range of the camera, put them on the seat of the toilet ready for action. With everything ready I got under the shower. At first I kept my back turned to the camera. The butterflies were settling down but I still had a little shyness to overcome and, anyway, I wanted a slow build up. I lathered my hair using a little more shampoo than normal so as to get plenty of suds which I let run down my body. As I massaged the rich lather into my hair I could feel the way that every time I raised my arms I was lifting my breasts and, still facing the wrong way, I struck a couple of poses; I could almost imagine the frustration in the other room because I had my back to the camera. This, in itself, was getting to me and I took the soapy palms of my hands and lifted up my breasts, feeling my nipples harden as my palms slid over them and, all the while, tilting my head back and letting the shower rinse away the suds from my head. Whilst I could only guess what it was doing for the boys it was doing wonders for me. Then it was time for shower gel, lots and lots of shower gel. As I rubbed it all over my arms, my legs, my torso, my breasts and my groin I was twisting and turning getting teasingly close but never quite giving them the full frontal that I knew they would be praying for. A shower is pretty sensuous at the best of times and, as I massaged the rich creamy gel all over my body, paying special emphasis to my breasts and pussy, so, what had started as a show, was fast becoming the real thing. How much I was doing this for their benefit or for mine was moot, we were both getting off on it; or at least I had to assume they were. But I had one final twist to my performance. The hair on my head wasn't the only hair that was going to get my full attention; I keep my pubes well trimmed anyway but this time I was going to shave myself properly. I reached for the razor and another handful of shower gel. Positioning myself so that the shower was cascading down my back and, more importantly, I was facing directly towards the webcam, I massaged the cream into the stubble of my normal trim. Then I took the razor and started to give myself a Brazilian. It wasn't going to be perfect, standing in the shower isn't the place for that, but it was definitely going to be a show. Stretching the skin tight with my free hand I worked away with the razor leaving me as hairless as a baby's bottom. By now I was so turned on I had to be quite careful; my sex lips were swollen and, with my little clitty all aroused and poking clear, if I wasn't careful I'd shave off rather more than I wanted. At last I could spin it out no longer. I turned off the shower and took a towel off the rack. I made almost as much of a show of drying myself as had of showering and was completely dry when I reached for the first of my props from the toilet seat. This was a piece of card which I held in front of my belly so, when I turned back to the camera, they could clearly read: Hello boys, enjoying the show? My suspicion that all three boys had been watching were confirmed as, even through the walls, I could hear the three gasps of surprise and a certain amount of confusion from next door as they tried to cover their tracks. However I was ready for this and had already planned my next move. I grabbed the second prop and, holding the towel loosely in front of me, opened the door and strode the two paces to my son's bedroom. I flung open the door and looked at the chaos within. "Well, well, well, what have we got here?" I said sweetly, "three mucky little boys playing with their willies by the looks of things." The look on their faces was priceless. The little darlings had been caught, quite literally, with their pants down. Wayne and Adam must have been sat on Jamie's bed while Jamie was sat in the swivel chair in front of his PC. All three of them had their jeans and boxers around their ankles and were all in various contortions as they tried to pull them up. The PC screen was, mysteriously, switched off but so was the TV and it was quite clear that, whatever games they might have been playing, the X-box hadn't been involved. I leant back against one door jamb and put my hand across to the other, effectively blocking the door. "Please, Mrs Morris, I'm so sorry, we were just..." Adam stuttered and Wayne nodded in agreement. Jamie just looked mortified. "Shh... the three of you," I ordered. "I know all about the webcam and I know exactly what you three were doing even if you have switched off the PC. Do you think I don't know three little peeping toms when I see them? So, you get your kicks by watching me naked; is this what you wanted to see?" I let the towel drop which not only exposed my body but also the second prop, my vibrator, which had been concealed under the towel. I struck a pose, letting the boys drink it all in before, switching on the vibrator and, using it point downwards, stroked my pussy lips with the tip. I sighed with pure pleasure as the vibrator did its thing against my waiting sex. "OK, boys, no webcam this time, this is the real thing!" The boys didn't move but just stared at me, their eyes the size of saucers. I put my head back and moaned gently as I reversed the vibrator and played with the tip just inside my pussy lips. Normally I like to use the tip directly on my clitty but this was more about giving the show than getting me off and I knew that the boys would feel cheated if they didn't see it go into my pussy. Out of my half closed eyes I watched as Wayne and Adam, still with their pants down, sat back down on Jamie's bed and Jamie, rooted to his PC chair just sat and stared. All three had their hand around their rock hard stiffy and Wayne even had the temerity to stroke his up and down. Gradually, working the vibrator back and forth and making as much of a show as possible, I pushed more and more of it inside me although, to be honest, it was the thought of my audience that was turning me on as much as any mechanical vibrations going on inside me. Using longer and longer strokes I pushed the vibrator deeper and deeper until, with it finally filling me up I could use the knuckles of the hand that was holding it to rub against my clitty and I knew I was near the edge. "Oh, boys," I moaned, "I love it when my vibe's inside my hot juicy cunt. It feels so good and I can imagine it's a big fat prick filling me up." I got the gasp I wanted when I used the 'c' word and talking dirty was just making me hotter and hotter. "Do you see how hot I am? Do you see how wet my cunt is? Do you want to see me come, boys, do you, do you?" I asked between gasps of pleasure. "What about you, Adam, Wayne, do you want to see a hot woman orgasm? Well, do you?" "Yes, please, Mrs Morris," it was Wayne who spoke first, "please, I'd like to see you come." Adam just nodded in agreement. I glanced over at Jamie who was in an obvious turmoil of lust and embarrassment so I didn't expect any answers from him. I looked back at Wayne and Adam and the look of lust and wonder in their eyes was simply too much. I felt like a goddess, I felt worshipped, adored, put on a pedestal, and that was enough to break the dam within me. As my left hand gripped the door jamb my right rubbed urgently against my pussy whilst still holding the vibrator deep within me. "Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh my god!!" I half moaned, half panted. Show or not I wasn't faking one bit of it as I screamed out my climax and only the hand gripping the door jamb kept me upright. With a groan that came from my guts I squeezed the last ounce out of the orgasm and exhausted, let the vibrator slide from within me. I hadn't come like that in ages, hell, I'd never come like that at all and it took quite a while before I could get my breath back. I looked up to see the three lads, their eyes still like saucers, silent in shock and awe, staring at me. Businesslike I stooped down to pick up the towel and wrapped it around me, knotting it together over my tits. Then I switched off the vibrator and stood it up on end on the desk next to Jamie's computer. "You boys can lick that clean if you want," I said before turning and going to my own room making a point of shutting the door behind me. I took a few minutes to calm down and compose myself and then a few minutes with the wet wipes cleaning up between my thighs before I got dressed and went to sit in the lounge. I'd dropped my bombshell; now it was time to behave as normally as possible. I was busy watching one of those cooking shows when I heard Jamie showing Wayne and Adam to the door. After he had seen them off he was heading back to his room when I called out. "Where do you think you're going, young man? It's high time you and I had a little talk." "Sorry, mum, I'm so sorry," Jamie began as he turned and came into the lounge. "Never mind sorry, come over here and sit down," I patted the sofa indicating that he should sit net to me, "now, first things first. Who else has been watching me apart from Wayne and Adam? Do all your friends get a look is it just them and please, please, tell me you haven't posted videos of me on the web." "Mum!" Jamie was horrified at the suggestion. "Don't you 'mum' me," I said sternly. "Look me in the eye and tell me you haven't posted anything on the web." "Mum, I can promise you that no one outside of me, Adam and Wayne have seen any videos of you." Jamie lifted his head and looked me in the eye and I could see that he was sincere. "So, do you record them? Have you got any saved?" "One or two," he admitted. "Right, let's go and have a look." I stood up and, somewhat reluctantly, Jamie followed. "Show me where you keep them," I ordered once we were in his room. He sat down in the swivel chair, fired up his PC and opened a folder called 'mum' where there were far more than one or two video files, each with a date attached. They seemed to go back quite a while. I reached over his shoulder, took the mouse from his hand and double clicked on one at random. A new window popped up on his PC and there I was getting ready for a shower. The picture wasn't that good, there was that fish eye distortion you tend to get with those things but it was certainly clear enough. I watched as I shed my clothes and, totally unaware that I was being watched, started my shower. I had seen enough; I clicked on the little 'x' to close the window and pushed Jamie's swivel chair until he was facing me. "Promise me again that these have never been put on the web," I said slowly. "Go on; look me in the eye and promise." "I promise, mum," he mumbled with his head down. "Not good enough," I reached down, put my fingers under his chin and lifted his head. "Come along, look me in the eye and promise me." "I promise, mum, really, I promise. I don't let anyone see them. I wouldn't even let Wayne have a copy when he wanted one for his iPhone." "Why on earth would he want that?" I asked but, even as I did so I could tell I was being dumb. "He wanted it so that so that he could look at it in bed when he's having a wank, didn't he?" Jamie's Needs "Yes, mum," Jamie admitted. "But why me?" I asked. OK, so again, I knew the answer but I wanted to hear him say it. "Because you're hot, mum; all the guys say you're totally MILF," Jamie insisted. "Me, hot!" I said in disbelief, "and what on earth's MILF." "You are, you're MILF," Jamie replied, his eyes downcast. "OK, but that still doesn't explain what MILF is." "It's one of those web things; it stands for mum I'd like to f..." Jamie pulled himself up short. "What was that?" I asked. "I didn't quite catch the last word." "Mum I'd like to fuck," Jamie repeated, shamefacedly but clearer this time. "Mum I'd like to fuck," I repeated. "Shouldn't that be MILTF? Anyway, would you?" "Would I what?" Jamie said, confused. "Would you like to fuck me? Would you like to fuck your old mum?" "You're not old," Jamie muttered, his head dropped and he couldn't meet my eye but I noticed he didn't say 'no'. "Oh, honey, that's so sweet," I reassured him. I was concerned about what all this was doing to him. I could see him withdrawing, hiding away inside himself the way he had when he was eight. I squatted down next to his chair and gave him a hug. His head rested on my breasts and it just felt right. For a long, long time we just clung together with me stroking his hair, using body language to tell him I still loved him. "It's OK, honey," I said at last. "I don't mind if you find me sexy, really I don't. I like being your hot, sexy mum." I gave him another squeeze. "I really got off on giving that little show for you, in case you hadn't noticed." Jamie's head was still resting on my breasts and I could feel his hot breath in my cleavage. He nuzzled in closer and I couldn't help myself, I reached up between us and undid the buttons of my blouse. Jamie reacted by kissing the twin globes of my breasts just above the top of my bra and I knew what he wanted, what he needed, so I eased my right breast out and offered it up to him. Immediately he clamped on and, just like all those years ago, I was comforting my baby boy the way a mother ought to. What was I thinking? Well, I wasn't, was I? I was just doing what any mother would do, comforting her child at her breast. But, right there alongside the maternal instincts, there were some very different emotions in play. I defy any woman to have a man suckling at her breasts and not be turned on, even if it is her son. I moaned in pleasure and held him tighter to me. Jamie too was strongly affected. I looked down and saw his hand between his thighs rubbing himself through his jeans. Gently I pulled his hand away, unzipped his fly, and tugged at his jeans and boxers until his prick stood free and proud. What better way to tell him that it's OK than to do it for him so I wrapped my fingers around his prick and rubbed it up and down. With increased intensity he clamped himself to my breast as I pumped away at his prick. Moments later he came and great gobbets of spunk squirted from him splashing me, splashing him and splashing quite a bit of the furniture. "I'm... I'm... I'm so sorry mum," Jamie said once he had got his breath back. "I got carried away." "It's OK, honey." I seemed to be saying that rather a lot. "We both got a bit carried away." We both felt a little sheepish as we pulled apart and I stood up again. "It's OK if you find me sexy," I reassured him again. "Matter of fact I think you're pretty sexy too." There was a splash of spunk on my hand so I licked it off, looked him in the eye and gave him a wink. "Now I'm going to get changed and start cooking your tea. You're going to take down that webcam and delete those files from your PC, OK?" "Yes mum, thank you mum." And with that the incident was over. Except, of course, it wasn't. As Jamie and I sat down to our meal together, we tried to behave as if nothing had happened but when I glanced across at him and our eyes met, he smiled and I smiled back. Such a simple thing but it was an acknowledgement that, whatever it was that had happened, we had shared something special. My pussy still tingled at the memory of my performance and I knew that the hand job I had given him had been a bit special too. Whilst there was a whole minefield of complications we both knew that we wanted to do it again and sooner rather than later. It was a couple of days before Wayne and Adam showed their faces and, when they arrived, they were pretty sheepish. Apart from anything else I knew how important Jamie's friends were to him so I didn't want to scare them off. They all disappeared into Jamie's room and I imagined the frustration of knowing that their webcam sessions were never going to happen again, poor souls. Of course, if I were to give them another show... The very thought was getting me all hot and bothered and I just had to do something about it. However I didn't want to just barge in and start playing with myself. There had to be some pretence; that was all part of the show. But first I had to find something suitable to wear, something that fitted the role of hot sexy mum, the role of a MILF. I looked through my wardrobe and there wasn't anything quite right. For all that the boys had found me hot and sexy it had been a while since I, or anyone else for that matter, had felt the same way and most of my wardrobe reflected that. Then, right at the back, I found a flimsy baby-doll nightie from years ago that an admirer had given me in the forlorn hope that I would wear it for him. It was more than a little tacky and pink nylon tulle isn't normally my thing but I knew it would send the boys crazy. I undressed, put it on and stood in front of the mirror. The critic in me was screaming 'mutton dressed as lamb' and 'god, how tacky can you get' but there was no doubting that it was a dead sexy outfit. The top opened at the front and was held together by a tie just under my breasts which were clearly visible through the diaphanous fabric. The G‑string panties were similarly flimsy; so much so that they in no way concealed the fact that I had shaved only the other day. This outfit was going to leave absolutely nothing to the imagination. I did, however, need a pair of shoes. Being on the short side I have a number of pairs of heels but I had nothing in such an awful pink colour. In the end a pair of white court shoes with four inch heels seemed to work and, suitably dolled up I was ready to roll. I went out into the hallway and stood at Jamie's bedroom door. Those butterflies had returned and were busy doing the Macarena but I hadn't gone to all this trouble for nothing. I knocked on the door, waited a moment or two and went on in. "Hi, boys," I said as I entered. "Jamie, sweetie, I think I left my vibrator in here the other day. Do you still have it?" There was a stunned silence. Jamie, Wayne and Adam just sat there gaping. The baby doll was far more effective than I had thought it would be. "Jamie, vibrator," I prompted after a moment or two. "Sorry, mum," Jamie replied as he opened one of his desk draws and fetched it out. "So, boys, do you like my nightie?" I said brightly as if unaware of the shock I had caused. "It's... It's very nice." Adam replied. "I like to get dressed up before I play with myself, it helps put me in the mood," I explained. That wasn't strictly true but it was all part of the show. I took the vibrator from Jamie's outstretched hand and switched it on. "Have you got any spare batteries?" I asked pretending to be disappointed with the strength of the buzzing, "these seem to be a bit run down. There's nothing worse than having flat batteries in your vibrator, wouldn't you agree, boys?" I kept up my bright, cheesy smile for Adam and Wayne whilst Jamie rummaged about looking for batteries. He found some, I smiled and handed over the vibrator which he recharged and handed back. I switched it on and stroked it against my inner thigh. "Ah, that's better. A girl can't get her jollies without a decent set of batteries. Thanks." I turned and went to the door before stopping as if a thought had just occurred to me. "Would you boys like to watch?" I asked over my shoulder. "You can if you want. Yes? Well, come along then." Feeling like the pied piper I led them back to my room and lay back on my bed. "Adam, sweetie, be a darling and fetch the wet wipes from my dressing table," I asked. There was no way I was letting the vibrator anywhere near me without a thorough wipe down. Meanwhile a wicked thought had come to me; for these boys anal sex was like the Holy Grail, it would be far more of a turn on for them if I were to use the vibrator up my backside, not my pussy. I took the wet wipes from Adam, gave the vibrator a thorough cleaning and then turned to my bedside cabinet where I knew I had some lubricant; OK, so maybe this wasn't the first time a vibrator had been up my backside. I squeezed a suitable amount of lube onto my right hand index finger, reached down with my left hand to pull the flimsy panties to one side, lifted and separated my knees and pushed my finger deep inside me lubing up the tight rosebud of my sphincter. There was a gasp from the lads. "You're looming too much," I said as my busy finger slid in and out. "Why don't you sit on the end of the bed? That way you can watch and not get in the way. If you want to play with yourselves make sure you grab yourself a wet wipe; we don't want any accidents." Still stunned at how forward I was being the boys were speechless as they sat down. However I did notice that each and every one of them reached for a wet wipe. Much as I like fingering my backside it was time to move on so I withdrew my finger and wiped it clean. Then I took my vibrator and, holding it in my right hand, reached down and pushed the tip against my rosebud. I love this bit, the initial resistance, having to push just a little bit harder until it starts to invade and then the glorious feeling of being stretched, filled, as if it's almost too big for me to take. I bit my lower lip as I pushed a little harder and let the first inch or so disappear inside me. Then I eased it back and forth, letting the lube do its stuff, letting the invader find its way inside me, slowly fucking myself deeper and deeper. "Ooh, god, that feels so good," I moaned, "I love the feeling of a big fat vibe up my arse." And I did. There's something deliciously slutty about the feeling and, with my knees up and open, I was giving the lads a full on show of everything I've got. I looked up, all three of them were fixated on what I was doing; each had their prick out and they were tugging away like madmen. There was only one last piece of the puzzle needed to complete the picture; with my free hand I tugged at the bow at the front of the baby doll until it fell open and my tits were out. While the wrist of my right hand against my groin my other hand played with my breasts, rubbing and arousing my nipples. I was losing any semblance of control; I was surrendering myself completely to the gloriously depraved act I was committing. I hadn't had much in the way of modesty anyway but what last shreds I had were fast disappearing as my orgasm approached like an express train. "I...need... a... big... fat... prick... rammed... up... my... arse... so... hard... I... scream" I called out as my senses went into overload and I couldn't take anymore. I rolled sideways, clamping hand between my thighs, squeezing every last ounce of sensation out of the orgasm until I jerked, once, jerked again and, with a massive groan collapsed exhausted. Gradually I came back down to planet earth. I let the vibrator slip from my backside and dropped it on the floor. I'd sort it out later. Sheepishly I looked up but I need not have worried. Three anxious faces looked on with that mixture of awe and admiration I was getting used to. "OK, boys, the show's over. Jamie, pass me my dressing gown, will you?" Whilst Jamie fetched my dressing gown from the back of the door Wayne and Adam stood up and adjusted their jeans, each holding a crumpled wet wipe. It would seem that my little show had left everyone satisfied. Jamie passed me the dressing gown and I shrugged it on as the boys headed for the door. It was Wayne who stopped and turned back. "Thanks, Mrs Morris, that was fantastic," he said before turning away and following the other two. Still shaking I picked up the vibrator with the tips of my fingers and headed for the bathroom. Both it and I would need a thorough wash. When I got there I opened the dressing gown to find that I hadn't actually untied the ribbon of the baby doll but had simply ripped it off and torn the material where it had been attached. The panties too were a sodden mess of lube and love juice. Quite frankly the garment was past all redemption and was only fit for the bin. Still, it had done its job. Maybe I should get another. It was the next day before I could get Jamie on his own. I was a bit concerned that I'd overdone it; after all it's not every mother who gives sex shows for her offspring and his friends. I felt that a little chat was necessary so I knocked on his bedroom door and went on in. He was sat at his PC which had a suspiciously blank screen. Oh, well, boys will be boys. I glanced down at his wastebasket; as well as the wet wipes from yesterday there were a number of scrunched up tissues. I sat down on the bed and Jamie swivelled in his chair to face me. "Did your friends enjoy my show yesterday," I asked. "Mum, you were the best ever. Adam said he'd never come so much in his life." "They do know not to tell, don't they?" "Of course, mum." There was a pause. I could tell that Jamie wanted to ask something but was shy so I just waited. "Mum..." he said at last, "when you came you shouted... you shouted..." I cast my mind back and, yes, I could remember what I'd said. "I shouted out that I wanted a big fat prick in my arse," I said gently. "Is that what you're on about?" "Did you mean it?" he asked. "You don't want to pay too much attention to what a girl screams out when she comes," I said, "but, yes, I quite like a bit of anal." Jamie's eyes sparkled and I could tell what he wanted but I wasn't ready for that, not yet, anyway. "So, you don't mind your mum giving sex shows for your friends?" I asked. "Well, no, but..." "But what?" "It's better when it's just the two of us," he said quietly. "I don't like sharing you." "Oh, Jamie, you know you're the only boy for me, don't you?" "Yes, mum." "Well, come over here and give me a hug." He came and sat beside me on the bed and we hugged each other. Once again his head fell on my breast and, once again, I could feel him nuzzling against me. This time I wasn't wearing a blouse but a tee shirt and there were no buttons to undo. I kissed him on the top of his head and eased him away from me. He looked up wondering why we had stopped but, before he could say anything I reached down, grabbed the hem of my tee shirt and pulled it up and over my head. Seconds later my bra joined it on the floor and I gathered him in to my now naked breasts. There was no hesitation; his mouth clamped over my nipple and I cuddled him close. For a minute or two we sat like that but sitting side by side was a bit awkward so, without breaking the hug, I lent backwards so that I was lying on the bed with him half beside me, half on top of me. "You're my boy, my bestest boy, my baby boy, you know that don't you?" I comforted him as he suckled at my breast. "You're the only one for me, the only one I love." Now that we were lying side by side he had more freedom to move and his hands started to wander until, eventually, he reached the waistband of my jeans. "You can play with mummy's pussy if you want; is that what you want?" I asked. He just nodded, his lips still locked around my nipple. I reached down between us and undid the button, unzipped the fly and pushed my jeans down to around my hips. I'd have gone further but I couldn't without breaking the embrace and I didn't want to do that. Immediately his hand plunged inside the waistband of my panties and groped clumsily for my pussy. Clumsy or not the simple fact that it was Jamie with his hand inside my knickers was a massive turn on and I wanted to join in with the action. I undid the front of his jeans and pushed them down and out of the way allowing his prick to spring free. As his fingers poked around inside my pussy so my fingers wrapped around his rock hard prick. He started to hump against me as if he were fucking my fist. "Oh, baby, that's so good," I urged, "so good, so good." I could feel him losing control and a sudden urge came to me. "Come for mummy, I want to feel your spunk, squirt your spunk on me baby, I want you to squirt your spunk all over my tits." That was enough to push Jamie over the edge. He broke away our hug and rolled back enough so that, as his prick erupted, although his spunk went pretty much everywhere, it mostly splattered over my belly and tits. I scooped it up with my palm and rubbed it all over me, massaging the thick, creamy spunk over my tits and especially over ever hardening nipples. Jamie, completely spent, collapsed beside me. I cuddled him in and we lay there in silence, mother and son, enjoying the moment. I wish we could have lain there forever but I was covered with his spunk and needed to get cleaned up. "I need a shower and so do you. Come along," I said and, taking him by the hand, I led him to the bathroom. I was already half naked so it only took moments to push my jeans and panties all the way down and step out of them. I then went to Jamie and helped him get undressed, not that he really needed help but, somehow, it seemed to be the right thing to do. When we were both naked I turned on the shower, took him by the hand and led him under the jet. I took a handful of shower gel before handing the bottle to Jamie. As I started to massage the gel over his body he got the hint and started on mine. Maybe he spent a little too long on my tits but I wasn't complaining. I took another handful of gel and, holding him close to me, reached behind him and washed his back and buttocks. I shouldn't have been surprised when, as our soapy bodies slithered together, his prick started to stiffen between us. I took my forefinger and, using plenty of gel as lubricant, poked it inside the rosebud of his anus. He shuddered and his prick stiffened further. "Oooh, it looks like someone's getting all excited again. Let me sort that out for you." Sliding down his body I knelt down in front of him and, taking his prick in my hands, rubbed it between my tits. I looked up and smiled at him before moving his prick from my tits to my mouth. It tasted a little of soap but I was far too excited to care. As the water cascaded over us my head bobbed up and down taking as much of him as I could into my mouth. It had been ages since I'd given a blow job but, like riding a bike, it's a skill you don't forget. It wasn't long before Jamie was thrusting himself at me and, shortly after, I was rewarded with a mouthful of spunk. It wasn't as much as he had shot earlier but it was gratifying that he could come at all. As I swallowed it all down I looked up and smiled at him. "Now, come along or we'll run out of hot water," I said as I stood up and gave him another hug. I tried to keep the rest of the shower as businesslike as possible but we were both still very touchy feely and as we were getting dried afterwards I noticed that he couldn't stop looking at me, nor me at him, for that matter. "I'm going to get dressed and then I'll cook your tea," I said when I was completely dry. "OK, mum, and mum..." "Yes, Jamie?" "I love you mum." "I love you too, sweetie." Half an hour later as I stood over the stove cooking Jamie's tea I thought over what had just happened. There was no doubt we were playing with fire but, for the life of me, I'm not sure I could stop even if I wanted to. It wasn't just the needs in me; it was the needs in Jamie. If we were to stop now it would break his heart and I couldn't bear that. On the other hand if we continued... Jamie's Needs I had seen the look in Jamie's eyes when I had told him that I wasn't averse to anal sex and I had no doubt that Jamie wanted to go well beyond what we had done so far. How I felt about it, well, that was more complicated. Right at the top of my list was a fear of getting pregnant but it wasn't just the practical difficulties; the idea of being fucked by Jamie, whether normally or anally, was a little further outside the mother son relationship than I wanted to go. I wanted his head at my breast more than I wanted his prick in my arse. And then the tea was ready and I called him to table. A couple of days later a package arrived in the post. It was addressed to Jamie so I left it on his bed for him to open when he got home. Obviously I was intrigued as to what he was up to but I draw the line at opening his mail. Anyway it was in one of those packages that you can't open without it being obvious. That evening there was a certain amount of bustle from Jamie's room and, as I was cooking tea, he came into the kitchen to borrow the scissors. I pointedly didn't ask about the parcel; although I was dying to find out what was in it I didn't want to ruin the surprise. When he came to the table he seemed very excited and anxious to get on. "So, are you off out with Adam and Wayne tonight?" I asked once the meal was over. "Not tonight, mum. I thought I'd spend some time with you." "That will be nice. Do you have anything in mind?" I couldn't help having a little tease. "There's some OK stuff on the TV tonight. There's a new comedy series I'd like to watch. But, mum..." "What honey?" "Just... just wait there a moment." Jamie got up from the table and returned with a box, one of those ones in shiny cardboard that you get from the card shops. A pink ribbon held it closed and, by his standards, he'd been to a lot of trouble. "Please, mum, this is for you." He handed it over. "Oh, sweetie, that's so kind of you. Can I open it now?" "Yes, please, mum." We went through to the lounge and I put the box on the coffee table. I pulled at the ribbon and freed it from the box and, when I lifted the lid, there inside, wrapped in tissue paper, was the cheapest, tartiest lingerie set ever made. The whole ensemble was made from scarlet nylon and, as I took the items, one by one, out of the box and laid them on the table I was able to see exactly what he had bought for me. For starters there were the split crotch panties with a matching peep-hole bra. Then there was a waspie corset with suspenders for the inevitable fishnet stockings. The ensemble was topped off with a sort of bedjacket thing, still in the same flimsy nylon. "Oh, sweetie, they're gorgeous and so sexy," I gushed. "Shall I try them on?" "Yes, please, mum." The poor boy's eyes were bright with excitement. "Well, you clear away the dishes and, by the time you've done I'll be ready for you." I put the stuff back in the box so as to carry it through to my bedroom. When I got there I put the box on my bed and laid the stuff out again. Whatever I thought of the poor boy's taste I couldn't fault his generosity and there was no way I wasn't going through with this. However there was also no way I was sitting in the lounge looking like a cheap whore whilst watching TV. I put on the panties; the waist was heavily elasticated in a one-size-doesn't-quite-fit-all sort of way and, when properly arranged, my pussy and backside were framed in cheap red nylon lace. The bra wasn't too bad a fit; he must have got my measurements from somewhere. The cups were split down the middle and the two halves tied together with a piece of red ribbon. Next on was the waspie. Again he had done well to get the right size but, even so, I was glad I wouldn't be wearing it for long. I slipped the suspender straps under the panties and turned to the stockings. Bloody stockings, I hate them, especially fishnets but, if that is what he wanted, who was I to complain. I put them on and fastened the suspenders. It took a while to get them straight and even but in the end I managed it. Then I slipped the jacket over my shoulders. I went over and looked at myself in the mirror. I adjusted bits here and there but there was no way I was going to look anything other than a cut-price slut. Still, if he could make the effort then so could I. Ten minutes at my dressing table fixed my hair and make up and I was ready for him. I went and draped myself on the bed. "Honey!" I called out. "Yes, mum?" Jamie called back. "Will you come in here a moment?" Seconds later Jamie appeared at my bedroom door. "Oh, wow, mum, you're..." the poor thing was lost for words. "Do I gather you like it, then," I asked but I didn't really need to. Half mesmerised and with his mouth wide open he walked across the room until he was next to the bed. "And how about him?" I reached out and gently stroked the bulge in his jeans. "Does he like what he sees? Let's have a look, shall we?" I undid his jeans and pushed them down and his rock hard prick sprung forth. "Ooh, yes," I continued. "Big and strong and hard, just how I like it. Now, why don't you take off your clothes and lie down next to me." Jamie was still staring at me with his tongue out but, as I continued to push his jeans down he took over, pushed them to the floor and stepped out of them. His tee shirt quickly followed and he stood beside me naked. For all our fooling around this was the first time I'd seen him naked since he was small and I hadn't realised what a sexy body he had. Whilst he was no athlete his body was neat and trim and, as for his prick, I couldn't help but reach out and fondle it. "Come on, lover boy, come and keep your mother warm," I said, my voice all husky. "He lay down on the bed and, whilst his desire was obvious, he was still a little shy so I knew I would have to take the lead. I reached for the ribbons holding the bra cup over my breast together. "I wonder if these ribbons undo," I said playfully. "Do you want to find out?" "Yes, please, mum." "Oh, I'm all fingers and thumbs," I said after I'd fiddled with the bow a while. "Why don't you do it for me?" Jamie didn't hesitate, he almost tore the ribbon off and, pushing the two halves of the bra cup aside, his lips clamped on to my now exposed nipple. Now I didn't need to fake it any more; what Jamie lacked in experience he more than made up for with the intensity of his passion. With his lips clamped on my nipple his hands gripped my body, holding me tight. Urgently he humped himself against me, rubbing his prick against my thigh. And then he pushed my thighs apart with his knees and now his prick was rubbing directly against my pussy. The split crotch of the panties was giving me no protection and I could feel the tip of his prick searching for a way in. Part of me, most of me, just wanted to spread myself wide and welcome him inside, to feel his prick filling me up but the very real fear of pregnancy held me back. "Jamie, Jamie, sweetie, please, honey, we must stop. I haven't got any protection and we mustn't make babies." Jamie unclamped himself from my nipple and, holding me by my shoulders lifted himself up, looking down at me, pinning me to the bed. "I need you, mummy, I need you so bad," he panted. I started to wonder whether I could control this genie I'd just unleashed from his bottle. "I need you too, honey, but we can't risk making babies," I replied. "I need you so bad," he moaned and, all the while, he was wriggling against me, trying to force his way in. I was getting seriously concerned as to whether he could control himself. "Please, baby," I pleaded and then it came to me. "Why don't we do anal. You can fuck my bum hole if you want." Jamie didn't hesitate for a second but rolled me over and, lay on top of me, his hands reached underneath to grab my tits whilst his prick sawed up and down the crease of my bum. All the while he was grunting and groaning like an animal and I knew I had to do something fast. "Wait a second, honey," I called out and, in desperation, I stretched my arm out and found I could just reach the bedside cabinet, I scrabbled around inside the top drawer and found a tube of something, either the lube or, possibly, some cream left over from a yeast infection. Whichever it was it would be better than nothing so I squeezed out a generous portion, reached in between us and smeared it around. My hand gripped his prick and gave it a generous coating before I pushed up with my bum and guided him in. "Please, baby, be gentle, you're hurting mummy!" I cried out as he forced himself in. Not only was he thicker than my vibrator but his prick wasn't as smooth either and it was being driven in by the urgency of his desire, not my needs or wants. I felt he would split me asunder as, time and time again, he drove himself inside me until he was buried to the hilt. With each thrust he would grip my tits harder, using them as handles to pull my body towards him. As his thrusting built to a crescendo I grabbed the pillow and buried my face in it, biting the material, filling my mouth so as not to scream out. And I didn't have to wait long before, with a another wild, animal cry, he climaxed. He seemed to want to force his entire being up my backside as, time and time again, he pumped his spunk deep, deep into my bowels. Did it hurt? I was in agony. Did I mind? Not in the least. For all the pain, for all the mauling, for all that he was effectively raping me, it was one of the most exhilarating things I had ever done. I wanted to be taken, plundered, used and abused if that was what my son needed. When he finally collapse and lay on top of me with his prick slowly subsiding inside me I felt an inner peace and I could have lain like that forever. It was Jamie who was the first to speak. "Mummy, are you OK?" he asked gently in my ear. I rolled over underneath him so we were, once more, face to face, "Oh, my precious baby, that was fantastic. Was it good for you as well?" I asked. "Mummy, oh mummy, oh mummy," Jamie began to sob. The strength of the conflicting emotions was overwhelming the poor boy. "I didn't mean to hurt you, really I didn't. I just couldn't stop myself." "Shh, baby boy, shh," I comforted him. "You only hurt me a little bit. The rest was wonderful. Anyway, it will be better next time." "Next time?" "Of course there will be a next time," I reassured him." Not right away, I'm still a little sore but, maybe tomorrow. Would you like that?" "Yes please, mummy," he replied and we cuddled together as mother and son should. That night Jamie moved into my bed. Now that we were lovers it seemed the thing to do. I wasn't quite prepared for how insatiable his appetite was and, at first, my backside was getting rather more abuse than I could really handle. However I went to the family planning to get back on the pill and bought some condoms to be doubly safe so that, after a few days, we could fuck properly as well. Even so, Jamie still preferred to take me from behind and, within reason, I was happy to oblige. Gradually Jamie became more a proficient lover; learning to give as well as to take. He was never going to be exactly gentle but that was all part of it for me. I loved the intensity of his passion, the depth of his desire; these were needs that spoke to the mother within me and it was deeply satisfying to meet them. One thing I hadn't quite bargained on was Jamie's jealousy. When it had just been the mucky videos of me in the shower Jamie had been quite happy to share them with his friends. Now it was all getting real he made it quite clear that, as far as he was concerned, my little sex shows were for him and him alone. One evening when Wayne and Adam were round and the three of them were playing computer games I wore a tiny miniskirt I had picked up at the market for just this sort of occasion. I went into Jamie's room on the pretence of offering the lads coffee and made sure that I bent over so that they could see exactly what panties, or should that be lack of panties, I was wearing. Jamie came storming out after me and we had a big emotional scene and I had to promise not to do it again. And then, one afternoon, Wayne came round to call for Jamie who was out at the time and not due back for quite a while. Maybe I shouldn't have invited him in but, well, I was fond of the lad and was bored. I wasn't exactly flirting but I was wearing a mid thigh housecoat that Jamie rather liked and precious little else underneath. I sat Wayne down on the sofa and went to make us both a cup of coffee. OK, whilst I was in the kitchen I did undo the top button of the housecoat but, well, it's nice to be fancied and, at that point, I really didn't mean to take it any further. I took the coffees through to the lounge and sat opposite Wayne. Whilst we chatted away I crossed my legs and let the housecoat rise up my thighs. At this point I wasn't exactly showing anything but I was hinting at more. Wayne couldn't keep his eyes off my thighs and it wasn't long before the bulge in Wayne's jeans became obvious and the poor lad was in some discomfort. That, of course, woke the tease in me. I 'accidentally' showed more and more thigh whilst chatting gaily about last night's TV. "You seem a little distracted," I said at last. "Are you trying to look at my panties?" Wayne just blushed and shook his head. "Oh, I think you were. Let me put you out of your misery, let me show them to you." Wayne just sat there and I knew I'd already gone too far but I loved the look on his face as I stood up and started to undo the buttons on my housecoat. Then I held it open like some sort of flasher, which I guess I was, and said, "Oops, I seem to have forgotten to wear any!" I love that moment, the one where they realise they're getting an eyeful and don't know what to say or do. The bulge in Wayne's jeans was now enormous so, without fastening my housecoat, I knelt down in front of him and reached for his fly. "You seem a little tense," I said softly. "Why don't I sort it out for you?" "Please, Mrs Morris," Wayne said as I untangled his prick from his undies. "I'm not sure we should... What about Jamie?" "Jamie's not here and, well...." I bobbed my head down and took the tip of his prick in my mouth. Any reservations he might have had were fast disappearing. "Oh, Mrs Morris," he groaned as he put his head back and closed his eyes. I guess we were too tied up in what we were doing to hear the front door as Jamie, who had been suffering from one of his headaches, came home early. When he saw what we were up to he went totally ballistic. He picked up one the crystal ashtray from the coffee table, pushed me to one side, and used it to beat Wayne about the head. Wayne was so taken by surprise that he never got a chance to protect himself and, by the time I had picked myself up off the floor the whole of the left side of Wayne's head was a bloody pulp. The ashtray had smashed but Jamie was still half of it to pummel into Wayne all the while shouting "Leave her alone, she's mine, she's my mum, not yours." I grabbed him by the leg to try and pull him off but when he looked down at me it wasn't my son I saw but some sort of monster. His face was distorted in a grimace of hatred. "Whore!" he spat in my face and then lashed out with his foot. His Doc Martins connected with my skull and it all went dark. It was a neighbour who called the police. Jamie had stormed off and left the front door open and, when Mrs Jenkins from next door looked in to check if all was well she found that it wasn't. She called an ambulance but Wayne had already died from his extensive brain injuries. As for me, I had multiple bruises and fractures. It would appear that the kick that had knocked me out was far from the last Jamie had thrown at me. The police surgeon noted that the bulk of the kicks seemed to have been aimed at my groin area. The police weren't very understanding, nor was Wayne's mum, for that matter, but I hadn't actually done anything wrong so they had to let me go. However, I couldn't go home, not with the neighbours and all, and now that the dust has settled I live in a completely different town near to the high security psychiatric hospital where Jamie now lives. They won't let me visit, the doctors say it wouldn't be helpful, but it's nice to be near him. After all, he is my son. Mind you, there's a young lad who lives across the way...